#water flea comic

[adarkrainbow]

The Tale of Tales movie analysis (4)

Finally, we reach the last (well, actually the first) of the three fairytales. It is an adaptation of Basile's "The Enchanted Doe" - but I always hesitate to call this segment by this name because the titular enchanted doe was completely cut out. In fact, of the three fairytale adaptations, this one is the one that changes the most the original material.

This story is the "Mother" segment, and fittingly the obsession it depicts is the obsession of a mother for her child - and to reflect the "bad father" figure of "The Flea", here we have to deal with the "antagonistic mother", turned into the "monstrous mother"

And this monstrous nature is heavily insisted upon by the very first changes the movie performs to Basile's story. In the Pentamerone, the king, by advice of the "wise and knowledgeable old man", slays the sea-dragon (well, his servants do) and brings back the heart, and it is all surrounded by comical sequences (such as the king shooting everybody that comes near his castle because he is tired of charlatans, or the heart's cooking-vapors making the FURNITURE pregnant). Of course, all the joke elements were removed but a further change was made - the king dies when slaying the dragon. In fact, this whole segment is fascinating in that it already sets from the get-go the entire story. The king, entirely devoted to his wife, goes to slay a dragon so that she can have her dream of being pregnant - but in the process he dies, killed by the dragon, literaly destroying himself for the happiness of his wife. But the queen? She clearly does not care that her husband died. When she arrives on the grounds, while she goes briefly take care of him, all her focus and attention is on the dragon's heart - and she does not shed a tear. We see here how this woman is so obsessed with having a child she is willing to get rid of her own husband ; even worse is that this obsession is not just destructive as in, it led the king to his death, but it is also shown as causing unecessary actions of cruelty. The sea-dragon is here... not at all a monstrous and frightening being. It is just a big, old, sleepy water-animal, living in a very beautiful area, that apparently didn't cause any trouble or damage to anybody, and ultimately looks more like a big axolotl or newt than a real dragon. All for one's woman obsession with pregnancy, a peaceful animal is cruelly killed out of nowhere, and a king is led to his death.

But as the necromancer said, "A life for a life" - there is always a price to pay for life-giving magic, and this price is death. Let us take a brief look at this character - explicitely referred to as "the necromancer" in the credits, another departure from Basile's tale where the character is just a wise, knowledgeable old man that happens to pass by. Here, it is a necromancer that purposefully arrives in the dead of the night to the king's palace, magically bypass the guards, and specifically comes to solve the king's problem before disappearing again... And then, when the queen is in great distress, he appears again out of the palace's shadow to offer his help unprompted. The necromancer was clearly designed to be a parallel to the "witch" of The Flea segment, and both belong to the same type of supernatural characters: both are gaunt and skinny, older-looking supernatural humanoids, who appear out of nowhere to bring magical help (but a help that always has a catch to it), and both are even dressed in similar black and hooded outfits. However, what does the choice of the title of "necromancer" tells us here? Necromancer is someone who invokes and speaks with the dead, which is not truly what this sorcerer does here... But necromancer in general has been expanded to any magical user who deals with death, in one way or another - and in this angle, this is precisely what the necromancer does. He offers magical solutions that always require the sacrifice of a life, he makes it clears magic needs death as a payment - his very appearance as a tall and skinny old man in a dark hood evokes the Grim Reaper - and if it wasn't enough, the two people he directly speaks to and offers his advice, the king and queen, both end up dying by enacting his plans... The necromancer is here clearly a figure of death. And by extension, his function as a male counterpart to the Witch of The Flea can also be read when you recall that in medieval and Renaissance literature, "necromancer" was synonym with "warlock" or "witch", because "necromancer" was mis-written/misunderstood very often as "negromancer" or "nigromancer" - aka a practicioner of dark arts, a master of black magic.

And so while Basile's story opened with farcical situations of an angry king shooting everyone from his tower and chairs giving birth to baby-chairs, the movie opens with a woman's anguish at her sterility, the senseless death of an animal and a king, shadowy advices from a Grim Reaper-like figure, and finally a grandiose funeral... where nobody really mourns the king. The queen's obsession is driven here again during the funeral scene - while she is in the funeral procession, the queen only has eyes for the baby she holds in her arms... And already before, the scene of the queen eating the dragon's heart established her nature and future revelation as a monstrous and bestial character: she doesn't eat it like a human being, with forks and knives... She devours it with her bare hands and with her mouth plunged in the blood. Her obsession to have a baby turns her into a monster.

The monster parallel is even more insisted upon when we see her first interaction with her son the prince: both are playing a game of hide-and-seek. But this is all a perverse game. The queen is dressed in a blood-red outift, and she chases her son through a maze... A labyrinth. She is clearly meant to be reminiscent of the minotaur hunting down its prey. Meanwhile the prince is fleeing from her, doing his best to avoid her - but he clearly is not happy, and truly looks exhausted. He only can escape when his... let's say "heart twin" saves him by allowing him to climb over the wall and escape the labyrinth, leaving the queen all alone in the maze while the two boys ride away on a horse. Everything is established in this very scene, everything is said and announced.

The queen is a monster. Not only was she ready to sacrifice all the lives she could to obtain her child, but now she is shown to become obsessively possessive and controlling towards her son. This was already very clearly present in Basile's original tale, where the queen's hatred came from an intense jealousy because her son loved more his "false twin" than her. But the movie pushes this even further by depicting the queen's obsession under a frightening light, borderline incestuous - she recognizes that the false-twin is not her son because of his smell, and she is shown to have a secret passageway allowing her to spy... on her son's bedroom. This all makes her desire to kill the false twin even more disturbing than it already was - and prepares what we will see by the end, her transformation into a pure monster.

Speaking of the false-twins, the movie adds a fascinating dimension to the characters - an aspect that highlights why they are so close and loving to each other, and why there is such a gap between the prince and his mother. The movie decided to truly and entirely make them the sons of the sea-dragon, more than the sons of their human parents. The twins are depicted as albino, with white hair and red eyes - the same colors the sea-dragon was. They enjoy escaping the castle ground and spend their time swimming under-water and hidden in the river where the dragon was slain, entirely naked - and with hints that they can hold their breath unnaturaly long. Finally, of the two magical items meant to indicate their good health, the myrtle is removed so that only stays the water stream... Their life is tied to a water they can magically summon. Everything shows and indicates that they are truly belonging to the supernatural world, to the world of the sea-dragon, and thus dooms from the start the queen's relationship with her boy, as they clearly do not belong to the same world and will never be able to fully understand each other.

The third act of the story is where things are completely changed and take a full twist.

In Basile's story the son of the servant girl ends up marrying a princess and living in a castle, making him the equal of his "false-twin". Here, not at all - the son of the servant does find love and a wife, but is among poor folks and common people. Not only is it a purposeful avoidance of the traditional fairytale cliches (you don't have to be royalty to be happy - especially in this movie where all royalty is fucked up in one way or another), but it also serves for another one of the changes of the movie: in the end, the two "dragon-heart-brothers" do not reunite and do not live happily together. They stay divided and split up until the very end. Yes, the prince saves his best friend, but in the end he has to leave and return to his own world. There is a mix here of the reminding of strong class divide of medieval and Renaissance times (no matter how hard, a peasant cannot become a king - in fact, hat pushes the queen over the edge is when the son of the servant pretends to be the prince), and a rational look at the logical consequences of the two boys growing apart and one of them finding his own love and his own new, caring family. No happy ending for the two boys, but a bittersweet one - they know each one is alive and well, and the prince saved his brother in distress, but ultimately they will stay apart and belong to different worlds. This is a complete change from the beginning of the story, when the two boys formed their own little bubble split apart from the rest of the people around them - and maybe we can read this as a comment on twin relationships. The two boys grew so close to each other and so split apart from everybody else they started to fuse and confuse their identities, replacing one another - but they had to pay for this, and a lot of suffering led them to realize they should each have their own life, their own family, and develop their own identities. The monster rises up its ugly head when the boys start planning on switching their identities, becoming one and the same - but the defeat of the monster results in the two of them splitting away and accepting that they each have their individual life.

But we can also read this lack of conclusive reunion and happy ending as another hint of what the movie is really about: women. This movie has its female characters as the main ones, while the male characters are merely secondary ones - and so, while it looks like this story is the tale of the two boys, in truth it is the tale of the mother-queen.

The other obvious change is the one I evoked above - the removal of the titular "enchanted doe", aka the removal of the ogre. In Basile's story, the "dragon-brothers" fall prey to a shapeshifting ogre that turns into animals to lure humans in his grotto, then traps them there to fatten them up and eat them. Here, the ogre is half-gone half-replaced. The movie, as we saw before, takes a "realistic" approach to its magic and supernatural - many magical elements are moved, the supernatural relies within strange human and tertiary characters, the ogre of The Flea becomes more of a wild man... A shapeshifting ogre would have been too much, it would have broken this diminished and realistic aesthetic for the supernatural. So instead, the son of the servant simply fell down a system of underground passageways and broke his legs - the supernatural danger becomes a natural one, he simply suffered a typical hiking accident. Yet, the story demands for the prince to slay a monster and save his "false-brother" - and so this monster appears, but as a wild beast. A sort of gigantic, monstrous bat-like creature clearly meant to evoke a more fantastical wildlife, but still a caricature and exaggeration of actual animals. The same way the dragon didn't look like a dragon but a gigantic version of actual river-animals, the monster here simply could be a prehistoric or deformed bat, fitting the boys' entrapment within a system of caverns and grottoes.

And yet this monster isn't just anybody because, as we learn by the end - this monster is none other than the queen herself, that agreed to become a monster to kill the servant-boy and have sole ownership of her boy's heart.

We find here the return of all the typical but also deepest fairytale motifs - and we also find back one of the oldest motifs of the ogre-myth. The ogre is the monstrous parent, the destructive father, the abusive mother, and as a result it is very fitting to have the obsessive and possessive mother becoming a monster replacing the traditional "ogre". At another level, beyond revealing who the real monster of the story is, it is also a literal illustration of the true struggle and the true battle of this tale. In French we have an expression, "tuer le père", "kill the father - here it is kill the mother. Literaly. The prince can only be happy and be free and save his loved ones by slaying his own mother when she becomes a monster ; and in return the mother is punished for being so controlling, so jealous, so unsatisfied and allowing her dark side to take over - she is punished by being killed by the one she wanted to love so much.

And thus the movie illustrates perfectly the original moral of Basile's tale: "Unhappy the one that punishes himself". The queen literaly brought the destruction of her own happiness. She killed her husband to have a child, she gave her son a desire to escape her by trapping him, she drove her child away by trying to kill the one he loved, and ultimately she destroyed herself by trying to have her son return to her. In a way, the queen here forms a parallel or mirror of the older sister in The Flea, who for her own happiness sacrifices her sister, and yet dooms herself because once the witch-gift fades away she will be lonelier than ever.

#tale of tales #tale of tales movie analysis #pentamerone #movie analysis #dark fairytale

[gavinsdeviant]

Love and War

I’ve been trying not mind so much about proofreading and editing. I want to have more fun with writing fics, and I hope you guys enjoy!!

As always, thanks to darling dearest, @thesunandmoons-blog for helping with this idea. Like really fucking getting this fic going. I love you sm, bestie! Thank you for putting up with my questions. This one is for you and for all the people having a rough time rn <3 love you guys

tw/cw- just fluff

word count- 661

fandom- RedactedAudio

pairing- David/Angel

@daveysangelsposts @sherlo-ck-holmes

“Oh, Daveyyyyy... I have a surprise for you.” They smile that lopsided grin of theirs, peeking their head around the doorway.

”Hey. How was work?” He frowns, as if realizing what they just said. He huffs. “You didn’t have to get me anything. You know that.”

They beam at him from across the room and walk closer to plop into his lap, bag in hand. They try not to get too comfortable if they need to make a run for it, which, judging by their plan and the look on his face, would be a good idea right about now.  

“You know when we first met you asked me if I liked dogs?” His face darkens, almost comically. They snicker. 

“I just kinda laughed and gave a vague answer, you remember?” He looks at them, a line appears between his eyebrows.  "Of course I remember." 

“This is my answer, two years later.” They hold it out, blinking up at him innocently. 

His eyes narrow as he digs a hand through the contents of the bag, looking at them as if something were about to pop out.  “It’s fine,” they giggle. He doesn’t seem convinced but pulls out what’s inside anyway. 

And before he can fully comprehend what it is, they dart out of his lap and down the hallway, howling with laughter as they run upstairs. 

“You fucking brat,” he growls as he stares down at the bottle in his large palm. Flea shampoo. Fucking flea shampoo- for dogs, no less.  He pouts and pushes up from the couch, walking to where he can clearly hear their laughter. 

“You’ve,” he grumbles as he pushes into their bedroom,” got hell to pay, Angel.”

The room is empty, though he can still hear the snorts that are uniquely theirs coming from somewhere nearby.

The door creaks and before his angel can slip away, he stops a hand on the wall. He gives them the once-over, smiling that grin that makes their knees weak.  “Careful. You might just be barking up the wrong tree, baby.” They nearly choke and seem to find an interesting spot on the ceiling to stare at, humming under their breath. 

“Who’s flustered now?” his whispers, tracing the veins on the inside of their wrist.

They try to duck underneath his arm but but don’t get far as he lifts them up into his arms. 

“David, put me down,” they shriek and grab for his bicep. “I don’t know, it looks like you’re pretty comfortable.”

“No,” they reply, glaring,” I’m not.”

“Agree to disagree.” 

They feel him move them down to sit on the bed, positioning them in his lap once more. 

“You know, I never really thought of using dog shampoo,” he says, contemplating.  “Really?” They study his face- the hard lines and the strong bone structure they knew and loved with everything they had in them. 

But that love withered as he said 8 words that sent them scrambling.

“Maybe I should try it on you first.”

They push against him but there’s no use. They could never move him, not with their weak grip on his strong chest. An unmoveable fucking mountain, unfortunately. 

“I’m not a dog, Davey,” they whine as he holds them close.  “You’re as much of a dog as I am, right now.”

And just like that, he’s up and moving, walking to the bathroom as they protest. 

“David-”

“Two can play that game, sweetheart.” They were somewhat grateful for him holding them up, otherwise their legs might have buckled. 

Then the water is on and he’s holding a hand underneath to test it. He grins down at them as they cling to him like a cat. 

And then he shoves them underneath the steady stream of water and they gasp. The water is mercifully warm. 

“Fuck,” they mutter around a mouthful of water. 

“All is fair in love and war,” he says, leaning down to press his mouth to theirs. 

#my darling🖤 #this was so fun to write! #lots of petnames in this one #which is interesting #got a little suggestive there lol #redactedverse #redacted asmr fluff #redacted angel #redacted david

[mabelsguidetolife]

I’ve been really busy taking care of a skin problem my dog has but we weren’t able to bring her to the vet until yesterday and it turns out it’s FLEAS and i feel like an idiot because our house is dimly lit but the room at the office was really bright and THAT’S when we finally noticed, RIGHT before the vet came in — on the plus side, the immediate diagnosis expedited the visit and may have even lowered the price for consultation

anyway we’re going for a three-pronged approach (plus a corticosteroid for the inflammation) and cleaning our things but basically i got woken up early today to immediately help bathe her and i got two leg cramps at the same time….. she’s cooperative but she mdvery strong and doesn’t love baths until she’s already done and dry so unless i hold her securely by the body she’ll start to walk away with her muscular little legs which is why i had to squat in a very non-ergonomic fashion, the balls of my feet the only point of ground contact because she kept moving away, which triggered the tension in my legs

then i showered thoroughly myself (even if she didn’t have fleas i would’ve had to do it anyway; she shook her head while my dad was rinsing her ears and tossed a comical amount of water on my face, like a full splash….. like a tiny log flume had just come directly towards my face, absolutely dripping wet) and played breath of the wild for awhile but now i’m so very sleepy so it’s time for me to snuggle up in bed until i’m more caught up

#haleylyfe #we also have to get some of that squeeze stuff for the cats just in case #fleas aren’t native here and none of our pets have ever had them #in my entire life #which is why my parents didn’t even consider that could be the problem #I had suspicions but my dad was like ‘oh that dead bug in her shampoo???? just a gnat’ and i was like ‘hmmmm’ #I wish my mom would help care for her a little more but she makes everything feel like a deadly ordeal so it’s hard to work with her #besides she’s more of a caretaker for our old one-eyed cat kenny because he has a really ambiguous skin condition #as a result of his war getting slashed open and infected in the street when he was younger #if my mom hadn’t drained the big pustule before going to the vet he would’ve lost the whole ear #but the vets did such a good job you can’t even see the mark #it would’ve necrotized if left alone though which is awful

[viralhoax]

brain rot

comparison is the thief of joy. they teach us this platitude to keep us some semblance of sane. there are, however, other joy bandits. what about the other thieves and the regalia they wear? people and places and things i have never thought to compare myself to, but trying to prove my worth to those who already see me as unworthy have robbed my joy and i am on a warpath to get it back.

what happens when the truth of the matter lies between ribbing and snark? we’ve all learned to hide our worst selves behind a chuckle and grin. we’re speaking truths in jests to soften the blow of how we truly feel about one another. we are desensitized.

somewhere between june then and november now, the line was crossed. it was done so long ago. but we set the goalpost further back. it will take us years to reach the finish line of who can hurt each other more. decades. on a global scale, centuries.

searching for humanity like a needle amongst syringes, hoping that the pain will be slight and sharp as opposed to lodged beneath our skin. somewhere between the “you’re too sensitive” and the “you’re out of line”, between the “why are you so quiet?” to the “you need to calm down”, between sentences written and no apologies given.

and yet i am here again.

yes, just me in this regard, but it can apply to so many others who are wading above water while sharks circle at their feet. i can’t swim so i float with the sharks, and then the shock when i am ripped limb to limb is almost comical. lay with dogs and wake up with fleas. float with sharks and end up dead.

but we aren’t talking about sharks at all, are we? all the life preserver metaphors in the world won’t make me feel like i got out alive. and i did, and i have, and the cycle continues, but just because i am intact does not mean that part of me has not died.

that sunk cost fallacy keeps us going, doesn’t it? that “well it’s been this long” or “it’s bound to get better” because we live in cycles. it’s been better before. but then it gets bad again. and then it finally gets to the worst point.

never trust someone who looks in your face while you’re talking and then spouts back what they were thinking the whole time, regardless of whether it matches the subject. you, much like the words in your mouth, are easily glossed over by apathy. save them for yourself or a person who looks in your eyes when you talk.

and when you start over again, and you know you will, and you know you have to because there is no choice, every flag looks red. but you will learn to trust again. all the colors of your life will be leveled out. and you will be wiser, with reverence to the now drained lake that got us here, but never returning to visit again.

[primordialgod]

adventures in the byzantine empire

A list of things she did while in the 6th century in the Byzantine Empire (and other places in the world) in an alternate universe. On that version of Earth, the supernatural is not hidden and so it’s considered normal and natural. This is the very first time she ends up in an alternate universe. She is 16 when this happens. List will be updated as I think of more things.

Moodboard link here.

Stopped the volcanic winter, plague, and famine in the year 536. In that universe, it had started in early 535. All three events were far worse and on a far greater scale on that version of Earth than on our own. She healed all the sick people and killed all the fleas/lice/ticks/mosquitos/flies/parasites in the world. She went a step further and entirely got rid of all the disease-causing germs.

Saved a young girl named Zoe from dying; she had been attacked by wild dogs. Everyone else in her village had died already from various different causes. Alyona buried everyone in the village herself. She got on a horse and took Zoe to a neighboring town where her relatives lived.

That town was being attacked by a horde of rabid corpses and vampires when she arrived. They were being controlled by the sorcerer Anastasius. She incinerated the corpses and vampires, healed the injured people, and led the survivors to a city. Zoe’s relatives had in fact survived the attack.

She tracked down Anastasius. He was in a large town and was about to sacrifice all its citizens in a massive blood ritual. She fought him and killed him but unintentionally  destroyed a large part of the town in the battle. She healed everyone who got injured and helped them rebuild the town. No one died. The townspeople were extremely grateful and declared her not just a hero but a living saint.

Rescuing a dragon and other mythical or ’exotic’ creatures from a man who ran a traveling circus; the dragon ate the man and she flew off into the night on the dragon’s back after relocating the other creatures (as in, tearing open dimensional rifts to send them back to their homes).

Saving a herd of unicorns, winged horses, alicorns, and golden-antlered stags from a group of hunters.

Breaking into a castle to rescue the souls an old sorcerer had stolen; he had been planning on using their life energy to make himself immortal.

Stopping a war between two cities; they were fighting over a holy healing spring located between their cities so she made two more healing springs so they’d both have their own.

Gods don’t die in the same way mortals do so different laws apply to them; this is what allowed her to bring many “dead” gods back to life by converting her own energy into pure life energy and giving it to them; they were so old that they had existed long before even the homo sapiens.

Stopping a war between four clans; they were fighting over an orb of energy that was held in a mountain shrine. She separated it into four equal parts to end the war. They used the energy to help their lands and people. Heal the sick, purify the waters, make crops grow faster, etc.

Freeing people who were trapped in a pocket dimension that was inside a painting; she went inside the painting and then tore open a dimensional rift for them to escape through (imagine Charmed’s The Painted World episode or W.I.T.C.H.’s The Last Tear comic).

Saving what are now the Slavic countries from a strange mystic blight that was responsible for many horrible things; the blight had corrupted the forests and animals, cursed both the land and people, made people’s dreams and nightmares literally bleed into reality, caused literal darkness to enshroud the area (imagine the Shadow Fold from the Grisha Trilogy), etc.

Calming and healing a sea dragon that was causing a massive storm; she sang to the dragon and her voice calmed it down since her voice has a hypnotic quality.

Killing an ancient prehistoric death god (from a long-forgotten pantheon) who was abducting many mortals to his underworld in order to feed on their blood and life force because he was growing weak from lack of worshipers and he needed to find a new way to sustain himself and maintain his strength (he would not have died from lack of worshipers, just gotten severely weak); she rescued all the mortals and souls from that specific underworld and they later moved on to a different afterlife. Despite being killed, the death god still exists because energy cannot be created or destroyed but only converted.

When she noticed people thinking about children being eaten and people going missing, she decided to investigate. She discovered that a drakaina was living in a cave near a small coastal fishing village with a population of 500 people. The village had already lost several people to the monster; they had tried to kill it but failed. She killed the drakaina with her hellforged blade but not before sustaining several bites. The people helped her the best they could by using leeches to try to remove the venom --- and it helped, if only a little. She stayed in the cave which overlooked the village; she refused to stay in the village because she wanted to avoid accidentally hurting or killing anyone (the venom was making her both hallucinate and unintentionally start fires). One night, while the venom was overwhelming her with pain, a group of 50 raiders attacked the village. They pillaged and raided the village, burning and slaughtering all its inhabitants. She tried to reach the village to save them but the venom was too much for her body to handle and she fainted from pain. When she woke up hours later, it was too late. Everyone was dead. She buried all the bodies herself in one large grave. She tracked down and killed the raiders --- killing them by impaling them with ice or freezing their blood. To this day, she feels immense guilt and grief over what happened and blames herself for failing to save the village.

Sailed the seas with a group of immortals for several years. They weren’t pirates or marauders. They were only explorers and adventurers. She kept the seas and skies calm and used her control over the wind and water to make the ship move faster. They found many phantom islands, discovered treasures, fought off pirates, etc. 

She soothed and calmed the Flaming Dragon of Lake Baikal thereby preventing him from flooding the world. She sang to the dragon and telepathically spoke to him.  She also met the other dragon of Lake Baikal. The Black Dragon (黑龍 Hēilóng), also called "Dark Dragon" or "Mysterious Dragon" (玄龍 Xuánlóng), is the Dragon God of the north and the essence of winter. His proper names are Ao Shun (敖順) or Ao Ming (敖明). The two ancient dragons live in peace with each other and get along wonderfully. 

 ((Here’s some background info: A legend says that one day at sunset, a fiery dragon came. A smash of his tail cracked the earth, and his breath melted snow and ice on mountaintops; the water filled the crack that became Lake Baikal. Flowers and trees sprouted everywhere, birds sang and animal roamed around the lake, and the dragon went to sleep at its bottom. Every 120 years the dragon would come out of the lake, and people would greet him with festivities. But there was a year when people forgot about the Fiery Dragon, and in his wrath, he flooded everything with water. Nobody has heard about the dragon ever since; only Lake Baikal remained.))

Somewhere in the north in the area of the Saxons and Germanic kingdoms, she came across a village. She healed the sick people there and got to know the people. She became a mentor of sorts to a group of younger kids and taught them some things. After a few weeks, she left to go wandering again. A few days after she left, a group of soldiers came through and took the children. They were taken to a training camp in order to be taught to fight and kill the monsters that roamed the forest. Many children from nearby villages and towns had been taken over the last few years. Why? Because most of the adults had gone off to fight the monsters but there still wasn’t enough so the local army’s leader decided to start using the younger people too. She only heard of this because she returned to the village after realizing she lost her prayer ring (she found it there). She promised to free the children and stop the soldiers. She found their training camp --- a fort several miles away from the village. She killed the soldiers, freed all 500 children and took them home, then decided to get rid of the monsters roaming the forests. There were many monsters roaming the forests, she couldn’t hunt them down and kill them individually. So she killed them all at once through reality warping.

Over the years she stole things from royalty, nobles, and other rich people from all over the world. Clothes, jewelry, scrolls, weapons, magical artifacts, anything that caught her interest.

She stopped an army of monsters from another plane from invading the human world. They weren’t demons. She didn’t know what they were back then and still doesn’t know now. They were sentient and intelligent but weren’t interested in having a conversation so she had to stop them. Their leader was the Mother of Monsters, named Kalisinra.

She saved 100 people who had been kidnapped by a group of sorcerers and were being experimented on. The sorcerers had turned them into blood-drinking creatures similar to vampires but far stronger and more feral and bloodthirsty. She turned them back human and healed them. She killed the sorcerers.

She slayed a barghest, vukojarac, manticore, nachtkrapp, and several jötnar in the northern forests. 

She later met a lot of elves (the Svartálfar, Dökkálfar, and Ljósálfar). She got along well with a lot of them and disliked only a few of them. She enjoyed sword-fighting with them. 

She killed a lich-king and stopped his army of draugar from destroying several towns and villages. 

She traveled throughout the world for many years. She slayed many different monsters and saved a lot of villages, towns, and cities from destruction.  

She stopped a network of poachers who were capturing and selling various rare animals such as dragons, gryphons, chimaeras, hippocampi, unicorns, alicorns, phoenixes, firebirds, etc. 

She found that universe’s version of Ignatios at some point. She told him about her universe’s Ignatios and showed him his alternate self’s life. The two of them got along and traveled together for a few years. She later came across Smaragdus and several other people she knew on her version of Earth.

#;;drabble #meta drabble #☲ headcanon #☲ an endless adventure

[moltolavoro]

@pistolslinger : "it's possible i've made a gargantuan mistake," the lack of exposition is, jesper thinks, par the course for them. there is simply too much time missing between them for jesper to waste more of it by stopping to explain every little shenanigan. it would be faster to just show his twin instead. without further hesitation: jesper pulls two little kittens directly out of his pocket. both are small and wobbly, flea-bitten, and mewling pathetically. the look jesper turns on casper is one of urgency.

"can you, like, alkemi up some flea shampoo for them? please? i can handle everything else, just not the fleas. saints, i'm gonna have to wash this jacket, too. ugh."

❛ jesper -- ❜ casper’s voice is so laden with exasperation it’s almost comical. he doesn’t know why he’s even halfway surprised anymore, given the circumstances, but he can’t help the way his expression softens at the appearance of the kittens themselves. he reaches over without thinking, and takes one, turning to hold it up, look into its eyes. ❛ i’m saying yes, but only for their sake and not because you’re asked me. honestly, you’re hopeless, ❜ he turns back, scoops the other kitten out of jesper’s hand too. ❛ go and find some water, would you? poor things look half dead. ❜

#pistolslinger #c ;; casper #ADOPTED

[prof-peach]

:0 I've never seen the other Pokemon on your team, what are they like?

My perma-team is a vulpix, Valka, a 20+ year old heavy hitter, despite her small stature. She was my very first pokemon, through gritted teeth we bonded, and now I fondly refer to her as my shadow. I go no where without her. She puts everyone who resides on the island in their place with unnerving strength. like literally any comic she's somewhere in the background, if not underfoot. Not hard to find more art of her, she is quite menacing.

Then we have Booker, Teddiursa, silly old grumpy bear. He had a hard time with poachers when he was real young, and imprinted on me during my ranger days many years ago now. He doesn't want to evolve, wears an everstone bead on his tail. He's partially blind on one side but we hiked to a colony of Machop and trained with them in the mountains for months to help him regain balance and confidence! He seems grouchy but is actually sweet.

Then we got Minerva, a shiny lopunny i nabbed at an airport when i was quite young, from a bad breeder. she was a scabby weedy flea infested runt when we first met, hardly the pink colour you'd usually expect from her type. She is fierce and fearless, will jump head first into anything with confidence and style. Loves to dress up, steals a lot of my nicer clothes. Will smash you into bits if you cross her, a total diva and i'd change nothing.

you've no doubt recently noticed the posts about Boadicea, a CharizardXGarchomp hybrid who's the baby of the group. Needy, clingy, total idiot, lap pokemon despite her ridiculous size. Very fast mount for flying.

For ground travel i use a dear Stantler called Donut, he's rather docile if you're not a problem to his "herd", with a neck so thick and strong you can hold onto his antlers and be lifted with ease. He's very chill.

We got a delivery Noctowl whos been around the block with me a few times too, lil guys really friendly, no real name for him, we all just call him 'Fancy pants' or 'dude'. hes got fancy eyebrows.

Of course not forgetting Quintin, a Scizor, my first egg hatch ever, been with me since i was a real youngster, a gentle soft sweet boy with a heart of gold, and collectively about 4 braincells. We all adore him.

then theres the house pokemon, each of these has blurb in the blog somewhere, they're all rather naughty... except Bob and Rosco. They're a delight.

uhhh lets see, this rat is always under my feet.

And then theres the pokemon who are out and about. the team mates who do jobs around the island, usually maintaining the peace.

Theres also 3 Bronzong that hang about the island,

Some notable partners from my various travels and adventures would iniclude

Dutch - Porygon-Z (helps around the lab, very loving, bit mad)

Typhlosion - Propane (odd markings, a spicy meatball)

Grimm - Steelix (real docile, very into scratches)

Riot - Lycanroc/midnight (Fiery, naughty, likes to thrash)

Suneater - Golisopod (shy, kind and very smart, loves to be alone)

Jewel - Ribombee (mean tempered! fussy)

Wotsit - Vikavolt (real clingy and super curious, to a fault)

Hemlock - Heracross - (a total babe, really protective and jolly)

Potato - -Bulbasaur (strict but fair, very old)

Murdoc - Crobat (timid in the light, proud of his speed)

Sugar - Tyranitar (Soft baby lady, total gentle giant)

Summer - Meganium (variant lady, gentle, calming aura, healer)

Tobi - Dreadnaw (rare water type for me, he's always sleeping)

Moss - Stonjourner (covered in moss, aptitude for grass attacks)

Zeplin - Aerodactyl (old battle maiden, now retired to the mountains)

Madam - Eldegoss - (will try to poison you, shiny, total nuisance)

I must admit, i often am one to release pokemon back to the wild, but the ones mentioned here are pokemon who have had the option to leave, and have chosen to stick around (apart from Madam who is a liability if left to go free), at least for now. We've been on many adventures together, and now work side by side managing the island. I have yet to draw them all but theres at least some visuals here for you. This also doesn't include pokemon who are residents at the lab and its facilities, who like our company but are not technically registered to myself or any of the staff. We breed all kinds of grass types, and they're all pretty friendly give or take, so if we have a certain job that needs more hands, we can call upon the residents who suit the work. Many of them have been through treatment or rehab with us, and we've built up a relationship with them, enough to work well together.

#long post #prof.peach #pokemon #peach talks #the island bunch

[fernisworm]

Lycan!Karl Heisenberg x Reader Headcanons (Pt1)

[an;

no but for real JKLWEGEF i love this headcannon so fucking much like does karl or does karl not look like a werewolf anyway 

this kind of strayed from a headcanon list but idc i had a blast writing it lmao

-

🎕 You can find Pt 2 here! (& Pt 3 here!)

❀ Characters: Lycan!Karl Heisenberg x (Gender Neutral!) Reader

❀ Warnings: Cursing, mention of blood

✿ You can find all my stories here!

✿ My requests guide is here! (And you can place a request here!)

-

🌟 Was very hesitant to tell you at first

🌟 Very afraid that you would become scared of him and he really didn’t want to lose you

🌟 Ofc you didn’t really care

🌟 I mean tbh you probably could have guessed because he has very canine-like tenancies the more you thought about it

🌟 Like really who gnaws on small bones like toothpicks 

🌟 And you now realise he was lying to you about not having fleas

🌟 Like seriously you were just joking when you asked him and he got really defensive about it for no reason but now you realise it’s because he has fleas

🌟 Overall you thought him being a werewolf was really cool 

🌟 You asked him a bunch of questions, really really interested in this side of him 

🌟 This made the experience all the better for him tbh

🌟 As you can imagine, Mother Miranda thought this was a very disturbing outcome from the Cadou and overall just hated that it happened

🌟 She told him she never wanted him to use his lycan form because it was a corruption of her precious gift

🌟 Overall Mother Miranda hated Heisenberg being half lycan and the level of her distaste for it rivalled her distaste for Moreau 

🌟 Heisenberg doesn’t give a fuck about what MM says but it stills weighs on him sometimes

🌟 Alcina likes to remind Heisenberg of this constantly

🌟 “Oh you think she likes you more than me? Listen buddy at least I’m not a flea-ridden mutt lmfao 🤭”

🌟 “Yikes don’t bite me I might catch rabies or sumn 🤢🤢“

🌟 The other lords don’t mention him being a werewolf much bc they’re too scared of Karl tbh

🌟 The fact that you were so kind and excited about it was actually really refreshing for him

🌟 He finally has someone who isn’t disgusted by his lycan side besides the other lycans

🌟 You actively accommodate his lycan side into your daily life

🌟 On full moons n shit you’ll ask if he wants to sit on top of the factory and look at the moon n stuff

🌟 You are very understanding of times where he just needs to be alone so he can let loose and run around in his lycan form 

🌟 Sometimes he’s gone for hours, sometimes days but you know he’s fine and he’ll come back when he’s ready

🌟 One time you had to go into town on a full moon and Karl decided to stay home but when you returned you found out he literally tore up his room

🌟 Like literally pillows were gutted and drapes were shredded, he literally tore a corner of his mattress off and literally everything was strewn about the room

🌟 To top it all off it was quite literally one of those posts where owners take photos of their dogs after they’ve misbehaved

🌟 It was almost comical the way Heisenberg was sitting in the middle of the room when you opened the door with him being all like “Uh, hey.... you’re home early 👀💧“

🌟 You also found out that the lycans listen to Heisenberg because he is literally the pack leader, big pack leader energy

🌟 Even Urias listens to him like fr Heisenberg is the pack leader

🌟 To tie back to my earlier point, Heisenberg does have fleas and they are very real

🌟 Sometimes he will sit and scratch for hours and you wonder how the hell he got them in the first place

🌟 One time you actually tried to treat him for fleas and god it went horribly

🌟 That man repels water like the plague, especially when you have flea-treatment in hand

🌟There’s nothing very noticeable about Heisenberg when he’s not in his lycan form, other than the fact his ears are a little bit pointed at the tips and his teeth (especially his canines) are bigger and sharper than what would be considered normal

🌟 He has an enhanced sense of hearing and smell, and to an extent his sight is even affected

🌟 You began to notice that, particularly around full moons, Karl would seem to become more sensitive to everything, reacting to loud sounds and strong smells and even bright lights

🌟 Around these times you’ll usually notice him spending less time in the factory itself, usually in his room or outside

🌟 Honestly the factory is probably the worst place for him to be around a full moon with the intense stink of motor oil and burning metal, not to mention the constant whirring and clashing of machinery

🌟 You opted to buy him ear plugs and incense sticks/candles to help him as best you could 

🌟 He appreciates it, especially because he’s so used to having to deal with all this on his own 

🌟 (that doesn’t mean he likes to show his appreciation very much lmao, but deep down you know he really does appreciate everything you do)

🌟 He’s pretty moody too tbh and more irritable than usual around a full moon

🌟 Despite your keen interest and understanding of Heisenberg being a werewolf, he doesn’t particularly like you catching him in his lycan form

🌟 As I said, despite you being very loving and understanding about it he’s still worried that after seeing his actual lycan form you’ll change your mind

🌟 But also he can be a bit unpredictable in his lycan form, especially during supermoons and shit

🌟 You know he’d never hurt you but he insists that it’s safer if he stays away from you

🌟 However, that doesn’t mean you haven’t seen his lycan form for yourself

🌟 One time your curiosity got the better of you and you followed him out of the factory

🌟 You distanced yourself so he wouldn’t see you but it was really dark anyway so you only caught a few good glimpses of him in lycan form before he disappeared into the night, and that was the first time you ‘saw’ his lycan form

🌟 The only time you ever really feared for your own safety was the other occasion you’d seen his lycan form

🌟 You had walked into his workshop following Karl getting off the phone with Lady Dimitrescu, and you realised she’d been winding him up (which she so often did)

🌟 🌟 🌟 

After slamming the phone back into place Heisenberg rested his hands on the workbench in front of him, you watching on silently from the doorway.

A few moments of heavy breathing passed before he suddenly pulled everything from the table, slamming it onto the floor in a fit of anger.

“Stupid fucking bitch,” He growled, starting to pace the room. “Who gave her the fucking right?” 

Heisenberg moved towards another workbench, pulling everything from the surface as he had done with the first workbench. This time a more animalistic growl left his mouth, alarming you slightly. You decided that you needed to step in before things escalated any further.

“Heisenberg? What’s wrong?” You called, stepping into the room. At first it seemed as though he hadn’t even heard you, continuing to mutter to himself angrily. 

You continued to approach him slowly, noticing the way Heisenberg began to twitch and snarl quietly. 

“Karl, are you okay-?” You reached out to touch his shoulder, and almost immediately he slammed you into the nearest wall. 

He began to growl again, and you noticed that his teeth looked sharper and pointier than usual. That was when you realised he was beginning to turn.

And it was now that you became aware of the sharp, stinging sensation in both your arms, glancing over to see that Heisenberg’s hands had already begun to physically change, his claws digging into your arms as he held you firmly in place. 

It took a moment for him to process things, it seemed, and then he realised what was going on.

“(Y/n)?” his head twitched for a moment, and he seemed to wince before quickly  returning his attention back to you. “What the fuck are you doing in here?”

A wave of fear washed over you; his voice was unlike anything you had ever heard. It was distorted into a gross growl, as if he was barely holding back the beast that was inside. 

You had no words for him, only staring back, frozen with fear.

Heisenberg glanced down to where he was holding you, noticing your bloodied arms. He released his grip almost immediately, looking back to you with a panicked look in his eyes. 

You realised what had upset him, trying to wipe the small amount of blood from your arms. “K-Karl, I’m fine, i-it’s nothing, really!”

You took a step forward, trying to comfort him, but Heisenberg only jumped back further. He looked around wildly for a moment before haphazardly using his powers to drag a workbench between the two of you. 

Almost immediately after the action he doubled over in what seemed to be pain, staggering backwards and leaning against another workbench. 

“Karl, calm down- please, we need to-” You barely had a chance to speak before Heisenberg stood up again, snarling at you with his fangs bared. You now realised it was too late to stop him from transforming.

He hunched over again, slowly beginning to grow in size as his clothes started to pull tight and eventually tear, revealing the mass of fur underneath. In a matter of mere moments the man standing before you was replaced with a ginormous lycan-creature.

It was odd, you thought, how somehow Heisenberg had turned out to be more of an actual werewolf than a lycan. 

Your curiosity was once again replaced with fear when suddenly he lunged forward, perching on the workbench he had moved earlier as he towered above you.

Instinctively you backed up to the wall again, but the lycan still loomed menacingly above you, fangs bared and eyes glowing in a way that seemed almost sinister. 

“Karl, I know you won’t hurt me,” You managed to choke out, trying your hardest to keep your voice steady. “I know you, Karl. You would never hurt me, and deep down you know that too.”

The lycan only snarled loudly again, but this time you didn’t waver. Instead you took a confident step forward and a deep breath in, a feeble attempt to keep yourself composed, as you slowly began to raise your arm from your side. He noticed this, and only snarled louder as if in warning. 

“You won’t hurt me,” You said again, fulling extending your arm to the beast. “You’re half lycan, but you’re no monster.”

The lycan looked at your hand and went completely still, and for a moment you thought it even held its breath. 

Just as quickly as it had calmed, the lycan quite literally roared to life again, shaking it’s head wildly before jumping back from the workbench. It then turned to one of the walls, bolting towards it and tearing a hole into it with it’s claws.

The lycan turned back, sharing your gaze for only a moment longer before turning and jumping through the opening it had made.

You stood still for a second more before staggered back to the wall, collapsing against it. The interaction had completely drained you all of your energy, but you cared more about hoping Heisenberg would be okay. 

🌟 🌟 🌟

🌟 It took Karl far longer than usual to return home, but when he did he wouldn’t stop apologising to you for what had happened

🌟 He honestly felt terrible and completely ashamed of himself, despite never really hurting you

🌟 Just the fact that he had lost control in front of you in the first place was enough to bring him down several pegs 

🌟 You later found out that Lady Dimitrescu had been bad-mouthing you over the phone

🌟  (Not seriously, as you two actually got along quite well. She had only done it because she knew it would get under Heisenberg’s skin and she wanted to see what would happen)

🌟 Rest-assured you gave her a good talking to, and surprisingly she seemed remorseful for her actions

🌟 Thankfully the cuts on your arms (where Heisenberg’s lycan-claws had pierced your skin skin) healed rather well for how deep they were. 

🌟 There was minimal scarring, and with the apologetic (and incessant) help from Karl the two of you made sure the wounds didn’t become infected

🌟 Heisenberg always tells you about how much he feared for you life that night, when he was unable to control himself due to his own unbridled anger

🌟 He often uses it as an example of why he insists on staying away from you in lycan form

🌟 But every time he does, you take no hesitation in assuring him that you were always certain he wouldn’t harm you

🌟  And that no matter how much you might have feared for yourself on that night, you knew that the man inside was far stronger than the beast that plagued him

-

[an;

THIS WAS SO LONG I’M SO SORRY HFKJSJKGWRLDJ I LITERALLY JUST COULDN’T HELP MYSELF

#resident evil 8 #re8 #resident evil 8: village #resident evil village #karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg #resident evil heisenberg #resident evil karl heisenberg #lycan!karl heisenberg #lycan!karl #resident evil 8 lycan! karl #resident evil 8 karl x reader #lycan!karl heisenberg x reader #karl heisenberg x gn!reader #gender neutral reader #karl heisenberg x you #karl heisenberg x y/n #resident evil 8 lycan! karl heisenberg #karl heisenberg headcanons #resident evil 8 headcanons #resident evil village headcanons #re8 karl headcanons #re8 heisenberg headcanons #my writing

[mmelonheadd]

FOR WHEN YOU CAN’T BE BATMAN

Because not everyone can afford a $12,000 batsuit (Looking at you, Bucks County Batman) and because not everyone who wants to be a superhero is able-bodied. Some of us are in wheelchairs. Some of us have anxiety so bad we can’t leave our houses. Most of us are dead broke.

My philosophy: life could be a comic book if we all just tried.

Can’t leave the house? If you’re reading this post, you have at least limited access to the Internet and you have a blog - so be a light for others. Be a kind word. Spread your wisdom. Speak your truth. Report the news because the revolution may be televised, but the revolution is also a victim of political spin and propaganda. Don’t have the spoons? Hit that reblog button. Share that article. And remember that taking care of yourself is important, too. Sometimes that’s all you can do, and that’s okay.

If you’re able to leave home and make a go around your neighborhood, pick up litter. All you need is a big trash bag and a sandwich bag/gloves for your hands. If you use a wheelchair, a trash picker will be an invaluable asset.

If you live in an area with a homeless population, make care packages. Toothbrush. Toothpaste. Comb. Deodorant. Sanitary products are an absolute MUST. A list of phone numbers for local homeless shelters, domestic violence shelters, soup kitchens and other resources is also a great idea.

Volunteer work doesn’t always mean cleaning dog kennels at the local shelter (and as someone with sensory issues... thank goodness for that), and not every volunteering activity requires an able-bodied individual. There are even virtual opportunities out there.

When it comes to protests, not everyone can grab a megaphone and lead the crowd - and not everyone should. I know I’m not that person... but I can absolutely pass out water bottles and Clif bars. I can keep a first-aid kit on hand. I can carry a bottle of milk for mace victims.

Can’t make it to the protest? If you’re financially able, you can bail out protesters or donate supplies to Amnesty International ... but if you’re like me and living on disability, you can sign petitions online or through text messages. Call or email your local representatives.

If you’re able to - shop at black-owned businesses. Shop at Native-owned businesses. Go to restaurants owned and operated by people of color. Support your local pit bull rescue. Support outsider artists at the flea market.

NEXT UP: Looking The Part (Whatever the Hell That Means)

- Melonhead

#activism #superheroes #rlsh #real life superheroes #volunteer work #disability #spoonie #low spoons #social justice #black lives matter #journal #journalism #blogger #blogging #diary #writer #melonhead

[fuckit-hero-of-trains]

Sit by the fire until... Chapter 2

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25870150/chapters/81650737

Here’s the thing they don’t tell you when you get magically transformed into a bunny rabbit against your will by the corrupted darkness of the Sacred Realm: somethings, unfortunately, tend to stick.  

Now, Legend isn’t saying that he’s hiding a cotton tail under his tunic or that his soul secretly aches to frolic in meadows or spend his time sleeping in holes or whatever else it is that rabbits do when they're not busy being very confused and scared twelve year old Hylians.

No.

But that doesn't mean he was left unscathed by having his entire anatomy re-written in less than an instant.

Because of course he wouldn’t. Goddess forbid he ever catch a break for once in his life.

He was still pretty young when it happened, so Legend can’t remember if his teeth had been quite so bucked before the incident. Regardless if they were or not, they sure as Hylia are prominent now. Then there's also the fact that he never really grew into his ears, the damn things always just a shade longer than they should be for a regular Hylian.

Before he joined this wild cucco chase masquerading as an adventure, Legend would sometimes catch himself looking at Ravio wondering, Is that how I would have looked? Besides the hair and eyes, the merchant was supposed to be his mirror image after all. Zelda and Hilda were, so it stood to reason that he and Ravio should be the same.

In which case, the bucktooth thing was going to be a problem regardless.

The ears, on the other hand, are a completely different story. From the quick glances Legend has managed to steal of Ravio’s side profile, the merchant has relatively short ears himself, which just make the Veteran’s own look comically long when the two stand side by side.

And ugh, and that wasn't even touching on his… less physical changes.

 Namely, his cravings.

Noshing on some leafy greens while home alone doing some chores? A-Okay.

Getting caught by Warriors and Twilight absentmindedly chewing on the hay he was supposed to be feeding the horses? Ehhh, not so much.  

Goddesses, his ego still hasn’t recovered from the amount of jokes the Pretty Boy had made at his expense. And that’s not even mentioning the veritable mountain of carrots he found in his bedroll, no doubt courtesy of that flea bitten farmhand.

Regardless of the less than natural way he got these… attributes, Legend couldn’t say they were all bad. ‘Cuz sure, his ears were a bit longer than average, but he could also hear better than most of his companions, able to catch the sound of crunching leaves above even their loud bickering. Like wise, his eyes were sharper than others in the low light of dawn and dusk, allowing him to see things others would miss.

Frankly, both skills had helped keep him alive during his quests. He was thankful for them in a weird huh, guess that works kinda way, but thankful all the same.

But sometimes Legend wanted to wring the goddesses necks because really? Being turned into a rabbit couldn’t have fixed this particular problem?

This particular problem being his absolutely horrible pollen allergies.

“ A-A-A!”

Each rapid, involuntary inhale feels like a simultaneous punch to the gut and a gasp for breath, the air yanked into his body and then stoppered up. It leaves the veteran in a state of limbo as a paralyzing calm falls over him; lungs full of air, shoulders hiked up, muscles tensed.

For a second, everything feels lodged in place, frozen, like the Champion had used his stasis rune on him.

And–

Legend clamps his mouth shut and tucks his face into his elbow just as tension snaps and–

“- acheew! ”

Nothing but a soft, cut off sneeze slips past his lips, yet, the force of holding it back  still sends Legend bowing over. He stays there, hunched over for a breath as his body recovers, before he straightens back up, sniffing irritably as he tries to ignore the itch prickling at his eyes and the congested pressure throbbing behind his sinuses.

A chortling huff sounds next to him and when Legend glances down he can see Wolfie– or should he say, Twilight– peering up at him, mouth open and tongue lolling in a doggy grin, but icy blue eyes too pointed, too teasing, to be anything but human.

Legend's nose twitches tellingly as it begins to tickle again and the wolf gives another stuttering huff. A laugh. Legend can practically hear Twilight’s twangy, Awww. You sneeze like a bunny.

The bastard.

“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, dog boy,” Legend grumbles, wiping harshly at his face in an attempt to stave off another sneezing fit. “Don't you have trees to piss on or something?”

That earns him peeled back lips and a growl, but Legend just sends the other a responding sneer as strides past the grumpy wolf and out into the rolling field of tulips that stands in front of them.

Another huff, this one more annoyed than amused, sounds behind the veteran before the wolf streaks past him, loping through the flowers with his nose down and tail high.

Legend rolls his eyes.

Twilight loves to show his teeth, but the farmhand is quite literally all bark and no bite.

And besides, they both have better things to do than needle one another. If Legend is going to be miserable, he may as well take steps to make that misery as short as possible.

Afterall, they aren't out here swanning through a meadow of flowers for pleasure.

The last Dark Portal they had all walked through had, once again, separated them. Legend and Twilight were lucky enough to find one another quickly, though, now that Legend thinks about it, it probably had less to do with luck and more to do with Twilight’s nose.

After regrouping, they had tried to search for the others more that day, but a storm had them holed up in a cave overnight to wait out the deluge. They had gotten up early to start their search again today, but so far they had no such luck in finding any of the others in the forest.

Which just left the inexplicable meadow of tulips surrounding the wood.

Legend had been hoping that the rain would keep some of the pollen at bay, but nooo that would be too merciful, wouldn’t it?

If anything, the rain just made this whole experience more aggravating. Now, along with stinging eyes, a running nose, and a throbbing head, Legend also had the delightful honor of feeling the tulip stalks and leaves and petals sliding wetly across his skin, the annoying slap of his tunic smacking his thighs as it got more sodden by the second, and the disgusting squish of water between his toes with every step he took through this Wind Fish damned field.

And sure, maybe it was worth it to reunite with the other heroes, but really, would it kill the goddesses to make his life just a little bit easier.

A bark pulls Legend from his miserable musings. Twilight's dark tail stands out among the ocean of pastel pinks and yellows and oranges, wagging frantically twenty meters away. It disappears after a second, replaced by a muzzle and expectant eyes.

Twilight barks at him again.

He must have found something.

Finally, Legend thinks as he begins to make his way over toward the other, hopefully a reason to get out of this floral hell hole.

“What is it, boy?” Legend asks, voice going high and mocking as he takes delicate care stepping on as many flowers as possible, “Little Time-y fall down the well again?”

Instead of a growl for his effort, Legend gets a flurry of black flecks falling upward, like pieces of reverse snow, in his peripheral vision.

“You know,” Twilight says as he straightens to his full height, eyes half-lidded. Unamused, “You’re really not as funny as you seem to think you are.”

And before Legend can interrupt that– No, actually, you just have a dog shit sense of humor. Literally– Twilight continues, “I can smell the smithy all over this thing.” He nods down at a small tree stump breaking through the tide of flowers. “The scent is a bit old, probably from sometime before last evening, but still traceable. I should be able to find him from here.”

Legend eyes the stump for a moment, peering into the cracked hole in the top of the wood. Inside, he can see the round, red caps of several toadstools sprouting.

He can also sense magic. Close to that of the fairies– natural and glittering and smelling of moss– but not quite the same.

The Smithy’s doing?

Or a natural occurrence?

Regardless…

“Welp,” Legend says, straightening up, “Let's go find him. Couldn’t have gotten far on those little legs of his.”

“Again,” Twilight huffs, the black fractals already consuming him once more as he transforms, “You’re not as funny as you think...”

His voice distorts and fades into nothing as the magic swallows him whole, leaving Legend once again having a conversation with a very unimpressed looking wolf.

“I like you better when you can’t talk,” Legend tells Twilight as the other sets off, snuffling at the ground.

The other pauses to give Legend a look that would be more at home on a disapproving mother’s face, before continuing his tracking.

He also whaps Legend in the leg with his tail.

Hard.

The prick.

They continue on their trek together like that for a while, Twilight occasionally pausing to shove his nose into the dirt some more as he decides which direction to follow as Legend trails behind, keeping his eyes peeled for a quadripartite tunic and a head of straight, gold hair.

It isn't long before the farmhand turned canine breaks off into a light trot and then a jog, and then a full on sprint.

And stops just as suddenly.

Legend is out of breath by the time he slides to a stop behind the farmhand, but from a cursory glance around, there doesn’t seem to be a short, mouthy smithy anywhere in the vicinity.

“What happened?” Legend asks, still searching, turning circles as he cranes his neck, “Did you lose the trail?”

Twilight gives a light whine, grabbing Legend’s attention.

Then he does two full spins and sits primly, looking up at Legend.

“The hell is that supposed to mean?” Legend crinkles his nose at the canine. “Use your words.”

Wolfie rolls his eyes in a way that Legend didn’t think was possible for dogs and then stands.

The canine stares at him intently, as though making sure Legend’s eyes are locked with his own. And then he flicks his eyes over the yellow tulip he is sitting next to meaningfully. Then back to Legend. Back and forth back and forth, his eyes go for a full minute before he stops and stares at Legend once more.

Legend feels as his face wrinkles in confusion.

It's just a regular tulip, just like the thousands currently around them. Pretty enough, he supposes. The bulb seems to be a little wilted, like it's been weighed down by rain water perhaps, but other than that, nothing to sneeze at.

Or everything to sneeze at, if you’re Legend.

Legend gives the flower one more skeptical glance before turning to look at Twilight once more, brow raised.

“Pretty,” he assures the other. “Not sure how it helps us find Four.”

Twilight heaves another too human sigh.

And then he reaches up,  takes the sleeve of Legend’s tunic between his teeth, and yanks.

“Hey!” Legend yelps as he’s dragged down into the dirt, “Watch the teeth! The embroidery on this thing took forever to do and even longer to enchant!”

Twilight pays him no mind, pulling him down and forward, closer to his chosen tulip.

Legend tries his best to keep his face away from the damn thing.

“I swear on The Three, if your slobber stains–”

Legend’s words crumple up and die in his throat.

There’s something in the tulip.

At first glance, Legend would identify it as the Smithy's earring. The small feathered one that he takes special care of. The one that Four refuses to tell Legend the origin of, besides his cryptic, “From a friend.”

Legend would say that it was just the earring, but… but it isn’t.

Rather than being completely red with a white tip, Legend can see that this little feather is only mostly red. Right before the tip, a darker red plumage takes over, followed by purple and blue and green.

Also, rather than being attached to the small, golden chain and stud Four uses to fasten the jewelry to his earlobe, it’s attached to a body.

A very, very small body.

By now, Twilight has let go of his sleeve, but Legend both doesn’t notice and doesnt care, all of his attention fixed on the little creature before his eyes.

From what he can tell, the little creature is asleep, curled up in the bulb of the flower, his feather tail tucked up near his nose for warmth. Looking past the plumage, Legend can see that the little guy has a very rat-like face, complete with a small, twitching pink nose, long whiskers and–because the creature is shivering– long, chattering rodent incisors. Oval shaped ears stick out from the creature's head, a mix between mouse-like and Hylian.

And framing those ears is shoulder length, soaking wet blonde hair.

Blonde hair held out of the little guy's face by a green headband.

And…

And he’s wearing the smithy’s tunic?

“... Four?” Legend whispers in amazement.

And just saying the other’s name out loud is like a spell because suddenly Legend can see all signs. The little guy has Four’s bag over his shoulder and the Four Sword at his hip. That same magic that was by the stump– the not-fairy, fairy magic– completely surrounds him, dusting him in the same way he is currently dusted in yellow pollen.

“Is that you, Smithy?” Legend asks a little louder.

But rather than startle awake, the small creature– Four, Legend reminds himself– simply hunkers down more fully into the flower, curling up more fully as his shivers increase.

“He must have transformed in order to speak with the Minish around here.”

Twilight’s voice, even though it is a whisper, gives Legend a start. He hadn’t realized the other had transformed, nor had he seen the farmhand crouch down by his side.

The other isn’t looking at him as he speaks, cool blue eyes instead locked on the fitfully sleeping smithy, face concerned.

“He once told me that the Minish are insatiable gossips. He must have transformed to try and find us.”

The concern on the farhand’s face darkens the longer he stares.

“He must have been caught out in the storm,” Twilight says grimly.

Legend tries to imagine what that would be like. To be the size of a mouse and out in a storm. Tries to imagine what it would feel like for gale force winds to pull at drag at him, crushing him into the dirt one moment and yanking off his feet the next. Tries to imagine dodging back and forth between tulips, avoiding the head sized, stone cold rain drops pelting down from the sky

It's not a pretty pictograph, he’ll admit.

And ugh, Legend really isn't a fan of what it's making him consider.

He spares another glance at Four.

And fuck, the little guy shivers and shivers and shivers until the fower he is sleeping in is shaking with it.

And then, he sneezes, the sound coming out tiny and squeaky and weak.

Son of a bitch.

With a sigh that is as weary and reluctant and annoyed as he can possibly force it to be even though the vetran is feeling none of those things, Legend takes hold of the flower near its stem. As gently as possible, he digs his nails into the soft green there, cutting the flower from the ground while keeping it intact.

He hands it to Twilight, who takes it from him with gentle, if slightly confused hands.

With one hand, Legend flips open his shoulder bag. With the other, he rips his hat from his head with a motion probably a tad more violent than is really called for. He arranges the hat inside the bag, making sure to cover his items with the soft fabric while also shaping a soft bed.

Without looking up from his work, Legend extends a hand out to Twilight.

Makes a grabbing motion when what he wants isn't immediately in his hand.

After a second, Twilight slowly places the stem of the flower back in Legend’s hand and the Veteran gently lowers it in the small nest he had created, making sure the bulb sits in a place both shielded from the sun and extra comfortable thanks to the extra fabric padding beneath it.

In one smooth motion, Legend takes a hold of the strap of his bag, pulls it carefully off of his shoulder, and places it on the other side of Twilight’s neck.

And then, he reaches down and touches the dark stone hanging from the necklace around the farmhand’s throat, letting the darkness flock around and consume him.  

When Legend blinks open his eyes, Twilight is looking down at him smugly.

He is looking down farther than usual.

Also looking smugger than usual.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, shaking out his fur before hopping on all fours to get closer to the bag.

“I didn’t say anything,” Twilight replies, not bothing to wipe the smug look off his stupid face even as he lowers the bag to the ground for easier access.

“Yeah you did,” Legend hisses quietly as he clambers carefully into the satchel, settling down the nest of leather and items and hat.

He pulls the flower closer to his side where it is warm.

Inside, he can feel as Four’s shivers begin to lessen.

"Cute," Twilight laughs from above them.

"Fuck you," Legend whisper spits, though he makes no move to push Four's flower away. If anything, he pulls it closer when he hears the smaller hero start to make small, chittering snores, surprised the smithy could sleep through such a racket.

Twilight, thankfully, doesn't comment, instead pulling the top of the bag loosely closed to give them some shade. Then, Legend feels as he gently lifts the satchel back up, slings it slowly over his shoulder as to not disturb the contents inside, and begins walking, hopefully back in the direction of the forest.

Legend can still hear the farmhand laughing to himself from within the bag, but without the others' eyes on him, he finds he doesn't care.

The pollen still itches at his eyes and nose and Legend can still feel the pound of his sinuses even now.  But something about the shade and warmth and soft rocking of the bag makes it hard for him to mind.

Four gives a harty twitch, kicking a petal directly into Legend’s face.

And even that doesn't dissuade the veteran from his task.

Instead, Legend sighs and pulls Four even closer, relaxing despite the discomfort.

He’s got dirt on both Twilight and now Four, the two heroes with sticks most firmly inserted into their asses. He can get out of whatever chores and lectures they try to pin him with.

Yep, he thinks , distantly. That's why he did this.

For the blackmail.

And no other reason.

#yes this is the live write that started the whole sneet thing #I write fluff and thats the thanks I get for it /j #lu legend #lu twilight #lu four #reluctantly soft legend is such a mood #I adore it #also #the image of minish four curled up asleep in a tulip made me go feral #so I had to share it with others #train writes #linked universe #linkeduniverse

[thankskenpenders]

The DiC characters or the adventures of sonic characters are not coming back, ever. 90's nostalgia is super huge right now, tons of companies are doing nostalgia bait and callbacks to especially 90's stuff. If SEGA were to ever use those characters, it would be now. The fact that theyre not, says enough. And they sure as heck wont use them 10 years from now when kids dont even know sonic had those cartoons.

Think about it like this, obscure characters from the Sonic Manga of all things have gotten referenced. That the FF's dont get that or Sonic X characters is for a reason. I'm sure the comic writers would love to do some easter eggs or just goof about the old cartoons, but SEGA must be keepin a tight grip on certain characters not even getting alluded to.

I'm not sure why you felt the need to send this? First of all this isn't even something I've talked about in the last few days. Second... yeah, no shit there are reasons why the DiC characters like the Freedom Fighters or Scratch and Grounder or whoever haven't come back? I've written about all those reasons extensively. The legal drama of the Archie comics, the mixed reputation of the series, the clear desire to differentiate the IDW series from the Archie run, their relative obscurity compared to the Sega cast, the fact that they clash with the modern vision for Sonic without retooling, and of course the fact that Sega has just never really cared about any of them. If getting those characters back was easy then the IDW series would've just been about the Freedom Fighters from the start. I've said repeatedly that folks shouldn't hold their breath

But I also don't think it's completely impossible, even if it's not something I'm counting on. And that's because Sonic is a franchise defined by weird, unexpected decisions. Did anyone expect to get a decades late live action Sonic movie, or for it to be the highest grossing video game movie ever? Did anyone expect Sega to sanction a new classic-style 16-bit Sonic game from a team of indie devs? Or a game where you get to make your own Sonic OC and have them be besties with Sonic? Or a (bad) Sonic RPG from BioWare? Or for them to devote that much screentime to Elise at the big Sonic Symphony? Or for Tangle and Whisper to get their own comic miniseries, a bunch of official merch, and even playable appearances in two mobile games? Or an officially licensed Mephiles the Dark Tech Deck? I could go on and on. Again: I'm not saying it's gonna happen any day now. But weirder things have happened

I also don't think "kids don't know who characters like the Freedom Fighters are" is an argument that holds any water. I mean, yeah, obviously they're not NEARLY as popular as the game cast. But like... older media doesn't just disappear when a new generation of kids rolls around? Especially not when it's attached to a perpetually popular franchise

Like, when I was a kid, I became obsessed with a lot of shit that was from before my time! Classic Mega Man, the G1 Transformers cartoon, EarthBound. And as I've explained before, Sonic too. I got into Sonic in 2002, but it was through catching AoStH on Toon Disney and randomly stumbling upon Archie Sonic #13 at a flea market. It didn't matter that those were outdated pieces of Sonic media because they were still new to me. And I know there are kids out there who are the same way. Months before the movie came out, my little niece and nephew became obsessed with Sonic X (with no involvement from me) because it was on Netflix, and now they love Sonic. It didn't matter to them that that show was nearly 17 years old at the time. While they're definitely in the minority, I'm sure there are kids out there finding SatAM on YouTube (or on Netflix, when it was on there), or finding fanart of Sally online and looking into where she came from. No, they aren't as widely marketable as someone like Shadow, but that doesn't mean NOBODY knows who they are aside from old farts, or that kids who like Sonic turn their noses up at characters they don't already recognize

#anon #ask #tkp asks #this got longer than i intended it to

[pixelwisp-archive]

Itadakimasu!! | Part 11: I'm Sorry (Written Chapter)

word count: 3.1k

The Mixtape: Thinking of you | CA, 1979

The music that pooled out of Onigiri Miya was anything but what you expected.  A small smile crept up onto your face - despite your best efforts - and with a featherlight touch, you crept into the restaurant, silently thanking the soft jazz for drowning out the creaks as you pushed the door open in search of a certain chef.

Osamu stood at the sink, hands working some leftover dishes from the work day. He hummed softly along to the music, and it surprised you just how nice  he sounded - how his deep hum complemented the honey voice that dripped through the speakers; rich, thick, and soft like velvet. You padded into the kitchen, clutching the wine and apron closer to your frame so as not to bump it on anything that could give you away, and allowed yourself a few minutes to listen and appreciate before ultimately ruining the moment.

“I didn’t know you could sing, Miya.” You brought a hand up to suppress a giggle as he stiffened and dropped the plate he had been washing with a loud clatter. Osamu bowed his head and cleared his throat, loud enough to drown out the music for a brief moment before it ultimately pervaded the kitchen once more. He grabbed the nearest towel to dry his hands before reaching for the remote, the music ceasing with a quick click. Once he turned around, your eyes immediately fell on the dusted pink that settled onto his cheeks, and you did your best to ignore the warmth that ignited in your chest at the sight.

"So, Etta James, huh?" Osamu coughed awkwardly, turning his attention back toward the sink to finish up the last few dishes that lingered in the basin.

"Ya know Etta James?" An affirming hum left your lips as you placed the bottle of wine and your apron on the island, eyes flitting over the rustic kitchen in search of wine glasses.

The kitchen was a decent size, the bright wooden counters and cabinets a stark contrast to the dark iron of the appliances, but it complemented each other and suited the space well. The soft ivory paint on the walls kept the overall area from being too loud compared to the rest of the restaurant, and you wondered if Kita was behind the greenery that added a lush, vibrant addition to the otherwise plain shop. Your eyes landed on a modest pile of cookbooks stored neatly in the corner, and you let out a huff of victory as you made your way over to the wine glasses that sat in a windowed cabinet above them.

"My parents were big fans, they've always had a funny fascination with America," you explained, and from the corner of your eye you saw him nod. The two of you relished in the, for once, comfortable beats of silence that followed, and you were surprised when he - for a second time since you had met him - decided to be the one break it.

"My Ma used to have this busted up, old, mix tape that she would play every night when she made dinner. Got it at a flea market when she spent a semester abroad in California. She always talked about how she wished she could visit again." The fondness in his voice made your heart squeeze. You busied yourself, listening intently as you placed two wine glasses onto the counter and filled them generously. "Eventually the cassette broke from years of abuse, but I managed to find the songs and make her a playlist. She still listens to it, every night, and I guess I got so used to it that it feels almost...wrong, to cook without hearin' it in the background, even though I'm not home anymore." You slid one glass over to him and he raised a brow at it, a soft smile pointed your way.

"I think ya skimped me a bit," he joked, and you chuckled sheepishly, a hand coming to scratch the back of your neck.

"What can I say, I like my wine." He chuckles as you reach for the small remote. 

"You didn't have to stop it, you know. I love me some Etta," you said, and his smile widened ever so slightly as you pressed play, the smooth voice fluttering through the speakers once more, softer this time as you adjusted the volume. You lifted the wine glass to your lips, taking a tentative first sip. The second the bittersweet liquid hit your tongue, you closed your eyes and sighed into the familiarity. It flashed you back to Tokyo; the seemingly endless nights on the balcony with Tendou and Semi, your drunken laughter rivaling the music in volume as Semi sang along with fervor - but, really, does anyone sound good when they're nearly a bottle deep?

Reality slammed into you like a meteor, and you were instantly struck back into the present moment, meeting Osamu's eyes as he watched you curiously. You felt the warmth crawl up your neck from the embarrassment, and you cleared your throat in the hopes that you could divert his attention to literally anything else.

"So,  are you gonna teach me how to properly make some Onigiri tonight?" His eyes fell on the apron you brought, the one he gifted to you, and his eyebrows shot up in surprise as his lips settled into a playful smirk.

"Who said anythin' about 'teach'? I said I'd show ya how I make it; I didn' say nothin' about teachin' ya."

"And miss out on learning how to make Onigiri Miya's signature dish? No way." Osamu scoffed as you grabbed your apron and began tying it around your waist. His arms folded in front of him, his lips a thin line. You couldn't tell if he was thinking or already disapproving.

"This was meant to be an apology, you know," he started, but you cut him off.

"I know! And what better apology than by helping me perfect my shaping?" The resigned sigh that followed meant a victory for you, the grin proof enough for both of you that you had won. "So, what are we making today?"

"I figured I'd keep it simple tonight. Ya like fatty tuna?" Of course you do.  Who doesn’t? "Great, let's get started then."

To be honest, you weren't expecting Osamu to be as patient with you as he was. Even though you were decently acquainted with the 'art form' that was Onigiri (as so eloquently and dramatically described by Osamu), you decided to entertain him and pretend to struggle with every step - over shredding the tuna, spilling the spices, adding too much mayo - in the minor hope that you could catch him stressed and maybe a bit frustrated - but to your somewhat disappointment, mostly pleasant surprise, every effort to get at least a furrowed brow or a groan was met with a warm smile, sometimes a breathy chuckle, and a strong pair of arms gently guiding you through the correct steps.

It was as equally frustrating as it was endearing.

"Now ya wanna dip yer hands into the dish of water I left on the side for ya, yeah, great, that's it - now grab a pinch of salt - not too much, just a pinch, and ya wanna rub it into yer hands to prep for the rice."

"What if I have a cut somewhere?"

"Do ya have a cut?"

"Well, not that I know of, but what if there's a cut I don't know about?"

"Well then I guess we'll find out soon, won' we?"

You huffed, but nonetheless pinched the tiny mountain of salt and collected a modest amount before tentatively rubbing it into your hands. Your shoulders were stiff the entire time, prepared for the sudden sting on the off chance the salt decided to acquaint itself with an unknown wound on your hand. You heard Osamu stifle a laugh, and your eyes met his as he smirked at your cautious form.

"Stop staring at me, focus on your own stupid rice ball." He laughed - loudly, beautifully - and you felt your hands tremble the slightest bit as you tried to put all of your focus on making a stupid, dumb triangle out of some stupid, dumb rice.

"Need some help?" You merely grumbled in response as the little bundle of rice and filling crumbled in your hands, despite your feeble attempts at shaping it. He set his own, perfectly shaped, onigiri aside and scooched over to you, his arms reaching around your form, chest pressed lightly against your back. "Yer pressing in too softly, so the rice isn't holding. Cup yer hands like this-" he cupped your hands within his own "-just like that. Now press a little firmer, like this." You were trying your best to pay attention to what he was showing you, you really were - but you couldn't help but marvel at how soft his hands were. You expected them to be rough; calloused from years of cooking, volleyball, and the handyman side hobby, but clearly that wasn’t the case. What kind of lotion did he use to make them feel so smooth? Probably some fancy homemade Aloe Vera lotion Kita made for him, you thought with a scoff.

This new revelation had also made you hyper aware that your hands were not, in fact, soft - countless burns, cuts, and other various acts of carelessness in the kitchen have given your hands a battle worn texture that no amount of hoity toity, all natural Aloe Vera would be able to soften up. He must have been cringing inside just having to touch the absolute burlap that is your haggard looking, stupid hands, oh god-

"Nice job, yer doin' great." The gentleness in his voice plucked you from your inner turmoil, effectively grounding you back to the task at hand. What was once a crumbling mess of rice and tuna now stood a beautifully crafted onigiri, the plump triangle nestled snuggly in between your hands. A gasp left you as you beamed at the finished product, and you whipped your head toward him, twisting slightly within his grip so you could face him properly.

It was then that you realized just how close he was to you.

Whatever words you had planned to say to him died in your throat as your brain tried to comprehend why the hell his face was so close to yours. Osamu seemed to be in a similar state of shock, eyes wide and mouth emulating a fish, opening and shutting when the words weren't coming to him. From the way your own mouth gaped, you imagined you shared a similar expression.

Simultaneously, almost comically, you separated yourselves and severed eye contact, Osamu finding something above you particularly interesting. What exactly, you weren't sure - you were too busy eyeing every minute detail of the remarkably plain tile flooring.

Like an awkward embrace from an old friend you never truly vibed with, the uncomfortable silence settled between you two once again.

It would have almost felt nostalgic, if you didn't hate it with a seething passion.

'And my arms need someone, someone to enfold'

The playful jazz number cut through the silence, and you mentally cursed Etta for clearly not reading the room - your arms were certainly not looking to enfold anybody at the moment, and you imagined it was likely that Osamu felt the same.

You spun back around toward your work station, a quick roll of your shoulders the only indication that you were gonna keep working, because you sure as shit didn't trust whatever would have come out of your mouth had you chosen to open it. Lucky for you, he seemed to get the hint and moved back toward his own work station, making quick work of shaping what he had left, while you continued to struggle, albeit far less than before.

Not a word had been uttered in the moments that followed, the music filling the awkward rift that split between you.

To be honest, you felt guilty that nearly every interaction between you two inevitably dissolved into a dense, unbearable tension; the once lighthearted mood suddenly cracked open like a fault line, the quiet settling between you like dust, and it always felt so thick that trying to bring the moment back its old, enlightened state seemed to take such an immense amount of effort - effort that neither one of you appeared to want to put forth.

You wondered if Osamu shared a similar sentiment.

While you finished up the last of your onigiri, you allowed your attention to flicker to Osamu as he eyed the leftover tuna filling with seemingly great interest, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a thin line. You watched as he scooped the mess onto his finger, putting obvious effort into keeping it balanced as he brought the teetering pile to his lips. Right as he went to close his lips around his finger, the tiny mountain fell, smearing onto his chin and landing on the counter with the saddest little ‘splat’ you'd ever heard. The disappointment he exuded at his misfortune is what ultimately broke you, and you laughed - a bright, gleeful sound that dispelled the suffocating air in an instant, and made you feel like you could finally breathe again (which was ironic, considering how out of breath you were from the incessant giggles that sprung free with absolutely no regard for your lung capacity).

Your hand flew to your mouth in an (admittedly failed) attempt to stifle yourself, as well as possibly save the last shred of rapidly waning dignity Osamu was probably holding onto for dear life. You folded in on yourself, laughter bouncing off the restaurant floor and - again, probably - stabbing directly into Osamu's crumbling pride.

Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, Osamu's loud, beautiful laugh cut through your own, and at the sight of his uncharacteristically bright smile, accompanied with the little smear of mayo on his chin, you realized that, maybe, probably, he was actually doing just fine; and that this - laughing with him - was something you'd never been given the chance to do before, and you'd be lying if you said it wasn't something you wished you could do more often.

You hoped that, maybe, Osamu wanted that, too.

"So, I take it they didn't teach you how to make onigiri at your fancy schmancy culinary school?" He smiled as you bit back a groan. It was embarrassing, how ugly your onigiri looked next to his. Sure, you were joking about your incompetence in the beginning in the hopes to rile him up a little; but when it came to actually forming the balls, well - there's a reason the spite onigiri you made were small and round.

"You win this time, rice man." He boldly plucked one of your creations and plopped it onto his plate, while you opted for one of his. You knew yours were gonna have too much mayo and way too much seasoning, and you weren't about to subject yourself to that.

You took a bite out of the rice ball and audibly moaned - how is something so simple so delicious? He chuckled, lazy smile draped across his features as he watched you eat. The little sparkle in his eyes didn't go unnoticed by you, and you felt a tiny tug on your heart at how excited he was that you were enjoying his food, even if he wasn't being outwardly showy about it like you tended to be.

"'This time'? Does that mean we're doing this again?" You reached for another one of his as you hummed to yourself.

"Hmm, maybe. Maybe I'll force you to bake me some macarons." You were kidding, of course - you wouldn't wish that upon even your worst enemies - but the way his eyes brightened and he agreed with a small but noticeable lilt to his voice had you wondering if maybe making macarons wouldn't be all that bad if you made them with him.

He bit into your onigiri, taking a far more generous bite than you would have, and you snickered at the obvious attempt to conceal the grimace he had involuntarily made upon swallowing. The way he tiptoed around his critique of your failure was incredibly endearing ("It's not bad, just...mayo-y." "You don't have to eat it, you know." "No no, you worked hard, I'm gonna eat it."), and you felt the first little crack form in the walls you had begun to keep up around him ever since the curry incident.

The longer you enjoyed the food, wine, and - surprisingly - company, the harder it became to ignore the guilt that had settled onto your heart earlier in the evening. What started off as a mere twinge had become a sizeable weight in your chest, growing each moment you spent with him that didn't make you want to launch him off the summit of Mount Fuji.

"I'm sorry," you said, quiet and out of the blue. He shot you a confused smile.

"Pretty sure that's my job right now," he pointed out, and you offered a meek chuckle in response.

"I shouldn't have sold the dessert onigiri. Seeing just how passionate you are makes me realize the gravity of what I did. My ego was a little bruised and instead of being an adult about it, I openly insulted you and Kita by making a mockery of your business. I took it too far, and I'm really sorry about that. I'm sure it goes without saying, but I'm gonna stop making them so you don't have to worry anymore." He was quiet, staring at you in a way he hadn't before, and it made you feel far too exposed, playing with the rice crumbled on your plate as you waited for a reaction.

"I'm sorry, too. I only said those things because the idea of you expanding yer menu terrified me. Yer an amazin' chef, and I honestly think ya could run me out of business one day." His voice was soft, too; and you felt the crack grow considerably wider, your vulnerability peeking through pinched brows and hands that you couldn't seem to keep still. "I've always wanted to open up a location in Tokyo, and expand the menu. Onigiri made sense because it's always been a source of comfort, but as much as I love makin' em, there're others things I wanna make, too."

The air between you was...light. The weight that usually settled itself into your shoulder blades seemed to have dissipated, and you couldn't tell if it was the wine, the time, or Osamu. Maybe it was all three.

"I...I like it better when we don't hate each other," you said.

"I never hated you," he said.

"I never hated you either," you admitted.

"Does that mean we can stop pretending we do?" He looked you, and you saw hope.

You smiled.

"Yeah," you said. "We can."

Prev | Masterlist | Next

Fun facts -

Osamu listening to old 60′s love songs just did something to me ok, especially my girl Etta

Kita is 100% responsible for the plants 

Osamu’s mom kept the tape, even after it finally broke beyond repair. It reminds her of Osamu’s father, who she met that summer in Cali

he was another exchange student from Japan. They had a summer fling and inevitably said their goodbyes when the summer was over and he had to fly back home.

They ended up bumping into each other a year after she moved back - and fate has been a big theme for the Miya’s ever since. 

Osamu has always felt a little funny about it - it feels too convenient, and he doesn’t like the idea of not being in control of his own path.

He thought your ugly rice balls were disgusting, obviously, and he was sure to eat his own after the first one lmao

A/n - when you haven’t updated in so long you have to look at past chapters to remember how you formatted 😭. BUT ITS FINALLY DONEEEE, this chapter KICKED my ass oh my god but it feels so good to be finished and we’re finally moving into new territory~ I’m very excited for the next few chapters!! I hope you guys enjoy this latest chapter, please don’t be afraid to shoot me messages if you have questions!! I have a LOT of behind the scenes content that doesn’t make it into the fic sometimes and I’m always eager to share 🤩✨💛

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[thenightling]

The Morning-Starbucks

The Morning-Starbucks

Disclaimer:  This is my attempt at Coffee shop AU.  Characters from The Sandman were created by Neil Gaiman for DC Comics.  I do not own them.  The concept for this fan fiction was inspired by a conversation with “Destruction’s Beard fleas” on The Sandman Discord server. Some of the drink ideas also came from them.  

Further note:  I do not believe Morpheus went to Hell after his death in The Sandman: The Kindly Ones.  In fact I’m fairly certain he’s spending his afterlife in Hob Gadling’s dream, now free from the burden of having to be Dream of the Endless.   This AU is a “What if” Morpheus went to Hell and was condemned to work in a Starbucks until he came to terms with his own past and self-loathing. _______________

                                  The Morning-Starbucks

“A Barista?” Morpheus asked with a blank expression on his gaunt, pale, face. His black eyes were like pools of dark water with a star floating in the middle of each as the reasonable facsimile of pupils. The pink-skinned demon in front of him smiled viciously. The smile reminded him of Lucifer Morningstar. And in fact, had he not been so thoroughly aware that Lucifer had quit his position as King of Hell, he would swear that this was Lucifer in disguise. “That’s right.” The demon said, sounding a little too gleeful about the situation. “You will be serving coffee, aiding mortals to wake up from sleep and shake away the trappings of dreams. Isn’t that a delightful fate for the Sandman?” Morpheus, the former lord of the realm of dreams, frowned at this prospect. “You believe this would torment me?” He asked. “Oh, I know it will. ‘Ex-Dreamlord.’”

The demon faded and Morpheus looked around at his new private Hell.

Morpheus stood behind the counter. He wore his elegant, black, robes and his hair was still wild and dark. He wore the green apron with some indignation. An annoyed looking woman walked up to Morpheus with her cup in hand. “Excuse me. I ordered a cappuccino. This is… Chamomile tea?” She was not entirely sure. Her voice was joined by another. The other voice was a man who stood behind her. “Are you sure this isn’t decaff? I could swear this is decaff!” The truth was Morpheus only served decaffeinated beverages. He had no interest in helping mortals wake up. An annoyed looking girl with blue hair and cat-eye spectacles crinkled her nose. “This tastes like Celestial Seasonings’ Sleepy Time Tea. I asked for espresso!” The woman with the chamomile tea was looking at the name scribbled on the cup. “I said my name is Janet Smith.” “You did.” Morpheus said simply. “Then why did you put the name “Janet Scheinhaus?” “Because that is your true name. Or do you fear that your bill collectors will somehow learn you spent eleven dollars on a ridiculously expensive beverage?” The woman looked angered. The blue haired girl’s eyes widened with righteous horror on behalf of the other woman who had apparently also mistakenly received some sort of decaff tea instead of her desired beverage. “Would you do this to a trans person with their name?!” “Certainly not.” “Why not?” “Because trans people usually discover their true name later in life. A true name is not necessarily a birth name. It is the name you most heavily associate with yourself. A deadname is not a true name, however Janet Scheinhaus, personally, does consider herself to be Janet Scheinhaus, so that is her true name. She merely is afraid those she owes money to will learn that she likes over-priced coffee.”  Morpheus explained. The blue haired girl was taken aback. Janet looked annoyed. She slammed the exact amount of cash down on the counter for the drink even though she never got the chamomile tea switched to a proper cappuccino. And she stormed out.

At noon, rather than attend to the people waiting in the queue, Morpheus slowly plucked the little sugary candies off of the decorative and over-priced biscuits (cookies) and other confections available in the glass display case. He was replacing them with melatonin chewable gummies.

Some time that evening people were starting to notice their lattes were just warmed milk. A teenage girl, who was hoping to force herself to stay awake to study for a test, went to front counter. She was polite. “Sir? Um, excuse me. You forgot the shots in my latte.”

Morpheus looked at her and said simply.* “No, I didn’t.” before turning his back to the girl and heading into a back room as if he had something important to do there. He truly didn’t.

At midnight a figure walked into the semi-deserted Starbucks. This was someone that Morpheus recognized. A figure that resembled himself but his hair was white, as were his robes. It was the current lord of The Dreaming. Daniel looked around with eyes that were like pools of black water, with stars floating in the middle. He stepped toward Morpheus. “There you are. Have you had your fun?” “Fun?” “Yes. It’s hard not to notice nearly an entire collage town falling into a deep slumber when most of them only slept four to five hours out of every two days. Come on. You’ve proven whatever point you were trying to make here.” Daniel offered him a pale hand. “Once The Sandman, always the Sandman.” Morpheus considered. “I do not wish to be Dream of The Endless anymore. That is why I...” Daniel raised his hand as he interrupted him. “But you would rather be a barista?” “Not really. No.” “You are no longer Dream of The Endless but you are still you. It’s time to go home. Hob will dream of you, you can remain there. Won’t you be happy in Hob’s dream?” Daniel was grateful that a certain Nordic God who loved mischief had caught wind of the unfortunate former dreamlord and how he was coping with his current situation. He would have to thank Loki later for having told him about Morpheus's situation. “Perhaps… But there is one last thing I must do here first.”

The blue haired girl with the cat-like spectacles had eagerly taken the position behind the counter. She knew her way around coffee and was very eager to earn her first pay cheque. All was going well until a very shaky looking young man, clutching a cup walked to the counter. He looked like he had just consumed caffeine for the very first time and perhaps he had. “I don’t understand. Why doesn’t this taste like the Venti blonde roast filter coffee I ordered yesterday when that Robert Smith looking dude was working here? Yesterday it tasted like warm half-and-half (Half cream / half milk) and was white and...”

The girl sighed. This was going to be a long day…

The End

#The Sandman #Sandman #Morpheus #Dream of The Endless #Fan fiction #The Morning-Starbucks