#but i underestimated how long this would take

[ironrose-stylistlegion]

Ranking How Difficult It Would Be to Fight the Various Creatures in Miraland

7. Easiest: Giftys

Even though Giftys are the arbiters of all styling battles, they show no sign of having any defensive abilities. It's also (somewhat) canon that Giftys are edible. This leads me to believe that at least some of them were hunted for food at some point.

6. Faewish Sprites

This might be a controversial pick, considering Faewish Sprites have an entire organized force dedicated to fighting and are shown in-game actually beating people up.

However, I think that's literally just a skill issue. If I was fighting a Faewish Sprite, I would wait for it to fly at me with its stupid little wooden sword, and then I would hit it with a baseball bat and send it flying.

The only reason Faewish Sprites aren't ranked last is because 1. Giftys are pathetic in a fight and 2. I think they could probably shoot each other out of their canons at their opponents and do some real damage.

5. Pieceys

Most weapons wouldn't work on a Piecey because they're just pieces of cloth, but we do know from the Caged Greed boss fight that they can be taken down with enough blunt force trauma. That might be difficult because they can fly, but it's doable.

Alternatively, you could use a flamethrower.

4. Croakers

They seem harmless and relatively easy to fight, but I don't think we should underestimate them. I feel like they could do a jumping kick at me and knock me over very easily. They could also hit me with their long frog tongues, and from there the fight would be over because I would be so uncomfortable that I would just have to leave.

The flamethrower would work on these guys as well.

3. Momo Clan

To be honest, I think taking Momo down in a fight would be quite easy. It's actually Momo's grandpa that gives me pause. His abilities are unknown. I would proceed with caution.

2. Cadenceborn

Kilo is the only Cadenceborn we've met so far, and he seems relatively harmless. It's important to consider that we've never seen him truly threatened, though. Additionally, the other Cadenceborn could be lean mean killing machines, and we just don't know it yet.

The sheer size of the Cadenceborn also concerns me. I'm not sure what weapon would take a Cadenceborn down. What could penetrate their scaly exteriors? Much to think about.

1. Hattys

These things scare me.

[passionatelyxlust]

Yes, Gluttony would tell him the same thing, convincing his brother that what happened with their King wasn't his fault when no amount of comforting will diminish shifting the blame unto himself. If he grabbed what precious family he held dear and hauled ass straight to the farmhouse with Azriel in tow, Gluttony and Josephine would not be suffering so profusely. The nightmares wouldn't be playing in their minds every single night, the mansion's interior untouched by the disarray, the time spent away would be almost like a vacation. However, Lust rationalized how many things could go wrong in that scenario. The wards don't hold up, the King slipped through into the mind of anyone, perhaps the presence of two princes are difficult to conceal from being tracked. All the male knew is a decision teetering on rushing back home and being with his brother so Gluttony had another support system advocate. Really, the minute he witnessed the state of the mansion pulled him closer and closer to that option. "He will never stop taking the brunt for me." Lust gave his brother one last yearning glance before watching the wisps of darkness emitted by Gluttony's nightmares wrapped themselves around the dream witch's hand and engulfing them both directly into the other prince's mind. A swirling burst of destructive wind seemed to tunnel around the pair as they stepped through, Lust feeling the tightness of Azriel's strong grip cling to him and providing a reminder for what the other instructed. Do not let go.

Azriel's magic progressed an ebb and flow that vanquished the events occurring in Gluttony's dream, offering the Prince mere glimpses of what his brother's deepest and darkest fears presented. He could feel the despair in the atmosphere without fully seeing the contents from the nightmare itself. It is a curious philosophical question, wasn't it? What could a crowned demon Prince of Hell ever fear when he possessed the honor of a royal? A soulless being having nightmares proved that maybe...he and his brothers were not so soulless after all. The King seriously underestimated the expectation his sons had the ability to connect on a personal level that drew them closer together instead of carrying a competitive nature vying for their master's acceptance. Lust didn't hold the closest relationship with a majority of his brothers apart from Gluttony. They were two peas in a pod, gossiping days away, and placing their lives on the line for each other. He wasn't exaggerating to Azriel how Gluts took the blows wherever they were shot from, his brother somehow feeling the need protecting him at all costs. Sure, Lust portrayed over-confident arrogance, but mentally, he was damaged. Sensitive. Experiencing emotions and having to conceal them on a more heightened level. "I'm actually here, brother." The minute his eyes found his brother's and Az released his grasp as permission that it was safe, Lust immediately closed the distance between them and dropped to his knees, throwing his arms around Gluttony in a hug he was too afraid to release the man from. He remained that way for a long moment, savoring the embrace, before finally pulling away. "My corporeal form is here actually, thanks to Az, but it's me." Lust's gaze scanned Gluttony's face, taking in the state of him. "Gluts, what the hell happened while I was gone? The mansion looks like it hasn't been cleaned in weeks. And Kai's here too?" He glanced over at Azriel and back at the prince, attempting a smile, "I see you found my replacement already."

The witch responded to Lust's question with a shrug. Could Azriel have speculated every possibility that brought his brother to be in the mansion that housed two Princes? Yes, but the reality was that this trip wasn't for him. Confirming that his brother was alive was good enough for him, he knew he could always get answers from his brother directly. Az's eyes flicked to Lust as the prince took in the state of the surroundings, feeling the sadness rolling off of him in waves, and he knew where his prince's head was going. It's what he, himself, would think if something happened to Kai. Something happening to Lust's closest brother and best friend shortly after disappearing after the resurgence of his King? It wasn't a coincidence. "This isn't your fault, Lust, and I'm sure Gluttony will tell you the same thing," the witch replied quietly before taking Lust's hand in his once again, his own eyes moving back to the sleeping prince before reaching out to the inky tendrils once more. The beckoning energy that clung to him while he was in the astral plane enveloped Azriel's hand, pulling him and his passenger into Gluttony's dream. In most dreams that Azriel went to, he was able to distinctly feel where he differed from the dream, untouched as a mere spectator. However, stepping into Gluttony's dream where a raging storm with the power of the strongest hurricane hit the witch like a ton of bricks, almost winding him completely which only caused him to tighten his grip on the Prince's hand. He knew it was merely because most of the minds he travelled in weren't as powerful as a Prince of Hell. Even when Azriel made a stand against the King, it was in Alexia's mind; he never would have stood a chance if it was reversed. Taking his free hand, Az willed his magic to flow through Gluttony's dream– attempting to find where the Prince's subconscious lay and quelling the dream.

Gluttony swam and swam but hardly could breach the surface of the waves he was trapped under for longer than a second before a tidal wave of black water brought him under again. Every time he went under, it was hard to feel what was up or down, his body spinning like it was trapped in a whirlpool. His lungs hurt from holding his breath, and the very moment he ever made it above, he could only drag in a ragged bit of breath, unable to scream for help. The thunderstorm raged above his head as he forced himself to the surface with his last burst of energy, hands flailing until they gained purchase on a drifting piece of debris where the Prince finally pulled himself to relative safety to assess the damage. At that moment, he realized that he wasn't wet or even damp, as one would expect when coming into contact with water. The black waters crashed violently against the driftwood, but Gluttony couldn't help his curiosity when he reached a hand out to cup the water. Bringing his hand closer to his face, he noticed it wasn't water but words. There were so many words that it only appeared to be liquid and one opaque unit. "What the hell," the prince ground out, shaking his hand to release the captured words into the void. He felt like Rose in the last few scenes of Titanic, but only if it were set in an abyss of alphabet soup with a raging storm overhead. He'd take the freezing waters any day if he could trade. A distant rumbling brought his vision to focus once more, the area darkening around him, which made him turn to see what had blocked out whatever light source there was, only to see a massive tidal wave headed his way. Gluttony crouched in on himself, bracing himself for the impact and subsequent fight for his life again... but it never came. Peeling his eyes open, he noticed that the debris he was clutched on and the endless black sea and tidal waves were gone. Burying his head in his hands as he knelt on the ground, Gluttony breathed for once, his mind at peace for a moment before he felt a presence. Opening his eyes once more, he looked up and saw the one person he'd wanted to see since he left. His brother, his best friend, his reason for fighting. The very reason why he'd felt like he had a gaping wound in his chest– Lust's absence was far worse than any fate he suffered at their King's hand. Gluttony's face scrunched up, emotion heavy in his throat causing his chin to wobble. His dark eyes darted between Lust and Azriel, and there was a tiny spark of hope in his chest, but he was so scared it was a dream; a worse nightmare than what he'd experienced already– a golden carrot on the end of a stick that was ever a torturous thing outside of his grasp. "Please... please tell me you're real and not a cruel figment of my imagination," the prince pleaded. Azriel looked towards Lust and released his Prince's hand, nodding towards Gluttony before backing away.

[lumaconstante]

First kiss [ Ominis Gaunt x Muggle!READER]

Summary: Ominis Gaunt shares a tender moment with the Muggle girl he’s been visiting in secret. One quiet evening, while dancing together in her kitchen, he takes a leap of courage and experiences his first kiss.

Warnings: Fluffy, sweet, first kiss, Ominis being soft and vulnerable.

The night was quiet, and the kitchen in her house was bathed in a soft, golden light. Ominis stood by the counter, his fingers tracing the edges of the granite while he listened to her fiddling with the old record player on the table nearby. He had promised himself this would be a brief visit, but, as always, leaving wasn’t as easy as it seemed.

— There! — you exclaimed cheerfully as the music started to play, filling the room with a gentle and captivating melody.

Ominis tilted his head, listening intently.

— What song is this? — he asked, a small smile playing on his lips.

— It’s one of my mother’s favorites — you replied. — I like listening to it when I want to relax.

You stepped closer, holding out your hand to him.

— Dance with me?

Ominis let out a soft laugh, hesitant.

— Me? Dance? I think you’re underestimating my… minor coordination issue.

— Oh, stop it — you said, taking his hand. — I’ll guide you.

He let you lead him, the warmth of your hand sending a comforting sensation through him. Soon, his feet were moving in time with the slow rhythm of the music. At first, he was tense, as though afraid of stepping on your toes or doing something wrong. But as you laughed and encouraged him, he began to relax.

— See? It’s not so hard.

— Maybe because you’re guiding me so well — he admitted, a genuine smile on his face.

The two of you moved slowly around the kitchen, the sounds of the music and your laughter filling the space. Ominis could catch the faint scent of dish soap mixed with the subtle fragrance of your perfume.

— Do you realize how different this is from anything I’ve ever experienced? — he asked softly.

— Different how?

— In my family… happiness isn’t exactly encouraged. Moments like this… they’re rare. — His voice carried a hint of melancholy, but there was gratitude there, too. — Thank you for giving me this.

You stopped moving but kept your hands intertwined with his.

— Ominis… you deserve to be happy.

He felt his heart race, the closeness between you making the air feel almost tangible. Your fingers still held his, but now, he could sense that you were even closer.

It was in that moment that he gathered his courage.

Without overthinking, Ominis took a small step forward, leaning slightly toward the sound of your breath. His heart pounded, but when his lips finally met yours, everything seemed to fall into place.

The kiss was sweet, shy, and full of unspoken emotions. There was no urgency, just a genuine connection, as if the entire world had disappeared and only this moment remained.

When you pulled apart, he let out a soft, nervous laugh.

— I… I hope that was… appropriate.

You smiled, gently touching his face.

— It was perfect.

He didn’t need to see you to know you were smiling. He could hear it in your voice, feel it in every word, every gesture. And for the first time in a long time, Ominis Gaunt allowed himself to believe that he could be loved.

[zeldalizzy]

I noticed you said that you're into both LU and LOTR... have you considered how those characters might interact? 👀 /curious /nf

- hero-of-the-wolf

Ooooo, ok ok actually yes i have!! Someone also requested a drawing of the Chain as the Fellowship so that may or may not be coming soon also! ;)

Anyway, in terms of how they would interact, hm. I think that each Link would kinda latch onto a member of the Fellowship that they most resemble, and kinda stick to them, but i think both groups would be chummy, and i mean, the pure defensive and offensive power of the Chain and the Fellowship combined would be immense.

In terms of similarities, here's kinda how i think of it:

Gandalf and Time: both are leaders, both are ridiculously powerful but don't use all their powers, both are kind, cryptic, and self-sacrificial, and have a soft spot for the little ones

Aragorn and Twilight: horse girls, but also natural born leaders, kinda mysterious, VERY protective, strong warriors, and extremely noble. Also they were both raised by a different people group (aragorn was half-human half-elf, raised by elves, twilight is hylian, raised by ordonians)

Boromir and Warriors: yeah so... this one is kinda just vibes. idek why, but would Warriors take three arrows or more to save one of his brothers? Absolutely. Also, Boromir is a Captain (Captain of the White Tower) and Wars is too, so they would relate on many levels there about taking armies to war and what not. Also... yeah... sorry Wars, of all the ppl to try to steal the ring it would be you. So sorry. And then he'd feel horrible about it and probably cry.

Legolas and Wild: long-eared archers with long, blonde hair. nothing more needs to be said here.

Gimli and Four: ok, hear me out on this one. Four is a blacksmith. He would have SO much respect for dwarves in their weapons and in their smithing skills in mining and making armor. He would probably just see shorter guy with a beard and latch on immediately because of his grandfather too. And both are a little embarrassed about being short and would NEVER want to be tossed unless absolutely necessary. Gimli would also be very impressed by Four's skills and have a lot to teach him too!

Sam and Sky: also vibes for this one. Sure Wild might be the Cook, but no one is as kind-hearted, loyal, over-protective, and compassionate as Sky and Samwise. Both have special ladies too, and Sky would 100% no hesitation carry one of his brothers up a massive exploding volcano if need be. Both soft, huggable, but not to be underestimated on the battle field.

Frodo and Hyrule: the burdens, my friends. the burdens. Frodo has to carry the cursed ring, Hyrule has to carry his cursed blood (as seen in Adventure of Link). Both are a bit shy, but very brave and loyal (we talkin' book Frodo here) and both have to go through a ton, kinda on their own. they are also both polite and selfless and have pure hearts that help them to resist the evil thrust upon them.

Legend and Merry: the trouble and disasters these two would get into, my goodness gracious. Legend may be a bit prickly around the edges, but he's also a prankster (Entrance), similarly to Merry. However, both of them have good hearts despite how they present themselves as tricksters. They are both loyal brothers who are extremely brave and adventurous.

Pippin and Wind: mostly just personality for this one. fun, childlike energy, brave, and sometimes make rash decisions. but also kind, lighthearted, and loyal. both are the youngest so they both have to deal with over-protectiveness from the other members of their group. they are both also dangerously curious, and likely to get up to mischief if one does not keep an eye on them...

Well, that was a total whirlwind, sorry for ranting!!! but I hope that answered your question!! Thanks so much for your ask, @hero-of-the-wolf!! i hope you are doing well! nice to meet a fellow LU and LOTR fan!! 🩵

[menodoramoon]

That's the thing about Menodora. She doesn't grow. She holds all thought thoughts -- those seedlings of awareness and observations -- close to her chest and in the back of her mind. She doesn't allow them to morph and change and metamorphosize into new ideas, new actions, new intents. She's never allowed those crocuses to break through the snow. Never permitting those Irises to see the light. Oh… how charming, she thinks. How funny. How fitting.

She sees Tófi in different lights. The illusion of their human self and the truth of their monstrous one. They watch them closely, a look of contemplation of her face. In that alternate 1815, she's loved them as their true self. In that alternate game of gods and monsters, they'd been more human. But those dreams didn't happen. Tófi would chide her for letting her mind wander back.

All of that to say, reconciling who they were had always been difficult. It's harder now, to think of them as a person who felt. And what did they feel besides rage and a thirst for vengeance? Is it so cliche to say that Tófi felt misunderstood? As childish as that word may seem, it felt like the truest thing to her. She misunderstood them time and time again. Underestimated them, overestimated them. Didn't know them as she thought she did or perhaps knew more aspects of them better than they knew her to.

She's somehow charmed by the turn her mind takes, the vague recognitions and reacquainting they're doing. This is not like the beginning of the year where they renewed their friendship. They tore down their relationship today in fire to begin to forge it anew. Perhaps Tófi would burn her in the future as she'd burned them. But it would be earned. And that, in itself, felt right.

"You love more than those, Tófi of Septarsis," Menodora chides. Her tone takes on one where she may tease a wayward ambassador. Where she is delightfully coy with her knowledge. "Don't lie to us when you demand so much truth of me."

Those smiles she gives them hurt her head. Ping lightly, like a pin dropping to the floor, against her senses.

"If things were any different, we may be happier people. Or not," she says, her voice lighter. Pained, but lighter. This discussion is taking a toll on her, her wick was quickly being burnt through. "Because if I am happier, that must mean I'm being ignorant to your plight. And if you were happier or contended, I don't know if I'd be standing here."

She purses her lips for a moment, closes her eyes against the brightness of the hall. It feels like stepping out of darkness into the daylight, bright and blinding. She would love to live in her oblivion, pretend all was well and ignore the pain Tófi hides. She remembers how Tófi had reprimanded her in the dream, reminding her how light could blind. It revealed the worst bits of you, exposed you and laid every bit of you bare.

Could Menodora handle the truth of herself? The facts of matters she tried so hard to -- for so long succeeded to -- repress.

Tófi seems to hold tight to their even tone, their humorless tone. She can't help but raise a brow, even if it's ill-advised over her worsening headache.

"What I'm hearing, Mr Sethson," she says, with that same teasing, playful look as before, "is that you want to watch me sleep." But she's not serious. That much was written across her features. If she were bolder, she may have said something sharper. Something more accusatory. Instead, she hums a soft smile, the slight reverberation on her lips. "It's noble of you to offer keeping vigil, though. Almost sweet, though I don't think sweet is the word I'd use to describe you."

Every external upturn of her lips is a downturn of her mind. And eventually, she knows she'll give out. Her banter is temporary. Exhaustion is a shadow, slowly consuming her.

When she observes them, they're observing her back. She's watching for a hint of a smile. They're watching for the eventual overwhelming of weakness.

It was a dance they'd done when she was a child. Physically, she's only been as tall as maybe his heart when she first knew of their truest face. Now, she could stand on her toes and brush her nose against theirs, their familiarity eye-to-eye.

"Why, Tófi," she says, humor evident but her strength fading, "it almost sounds like you want an excuse to carry me."

Are they twenty feet from reprieve or two hundred? This house couldn't be that big, their manner of manor was surely not that expansive. Even if taking one more step felt like the effort of wading through deep water.

If they lingered any more in the hall, Tófi would have no choice unless they were content with 'rest' being synonymous with her crumpled, unconscious on their hallway floor.

She's a moment from a delirious laugh. Settles for an exhale. Shuts her eyes as the thrumming and drumming and darkness in her ears rises.

"I'll permit it, just this once, if you're still offering."

@ofseptarsis

genfødte sandheder || Tófi & Moon

[staghunters]

It's the last time running through snow

'Cause the fire can't last and the winter's cold

Yellowjackets Appreciation Week Day 2: favorite character

[thebayclans]

Prologue pages 12-14

Blue-orange torbie: Thrushflame, she/her

Black and white cat: Loonshadow, she/her

Horizonpaw: our protagonist, she/they

previous | next

[paperultra]

mise en rose.

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 3,806 words Warnings: Swearing, alcohol use

The tune that your father used to whistle now leaves your lips the same way it left his.

Notes skip offkey across the water as your boat rocks gently, waves lapping up against the wooden sides. The moon shines brightly overhead. You shift in place and wait for a tug on your fishing line, the basket at your feet waiting patiently for its first meal.

Archy will be happy if you actually catch something for once. There’s not a lot of fish around here, and you’re not exactly sure why; something about the aquatic plants in the area, or if you were to believe the old man in the village square, a curse that swallows anything with fins that swims too close. The last time you caught something was months ago, and it was tiny and more bone than flesh.

You don’t really care. It’s enough to just sit out here and feel the waves.

Cheeks puffing up with air for another round of music, you let your gaze drift out towards the ocean and abruptly freeze.

There’s something floating in the distance.

A piece of debris. Wood from a hull, a scrap of sail perhaps?

The thought that it may be the remnant of a ship destroyed at sea is enough for you to reel in your line and start rowing towards it, anticipation bubbling up and drowning out any thoughts of a midnight snack.

You get close enough and your anticipation gives way to shock.

“Oh, shit.”

The guy clinging to the chunk of wood stirs and lifts his head, and you almost hit him upside the head with your oar.

“Oh, shit. You’re alive.”

—

“You say you’re going out fishing and you come back with a half-dead man with three swords?” Archy looks like he’s about to have an aneurysm, but this time, you don’t blame him. This is certainly uncharted territory and your older brother is hopeless without a map. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What was I supposed to do, leave him to die?”

“I dunno! Yeah!” he gestures to the waterlogged man lying halfway on the living room couch, one arm and leg hanging off the side. “Look at him. He’s probably a pirate!”

“Damn, you think?” Crouching down, you drag your eyes across Swordsman’s ragged clothing and grin. You might’ve just rescued someone with a bounty on his head. “That’d be so cool.”

“That would not be cool.”

You shrug. “Well, I brought him in already, so you might as well help me unless you want a dead body in our living room.”

“You little –” Taking a deep breath, Archy pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a long, loud groan, and you know that you’ve won once more. “Fine. But as soon as he’s even a little bit better, we’re calling the Marines.”

“Okay,” you agree amicably. “So, what do we do first?”

“We have to undress him and warm him up.”

“Got it.” Your eager fingers go straight for the swords.

The man comes to life without warning. Seizing your wrist, he cracks one eye open and speaks in a low and rasping voice.

“Don’t. Touch. My swords.”

“Uh,” you say.

“We got to get everything off, mate,” Archy grumbles, and your guest turns his glare onto your brother. “I know how to clean swords and scabbards. I’ll dry them off and put them under the couch afterward.”

“I’ll do it myself.”

With a grunt, Swordsman pushes you away and attempts to sit up. He struggles for a full minute, jaw clenched and muscles trembling; his arms, strong and sturdy as they are, look like they’ll buckle at any moment.

Your eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling when he actually manages to prop himself up.

“Well, that’s impressive,” you mutter, making eye contact with Archy. He rolls his eyes. “Can you remove your clothes and wrap yourself up too?”

It takes a few moments before Swordsman has enough breath to respond. “I’m fine,” he says once he can.

“You’re really not,” Archy replies.

“You’re probably really dehydrated,” you say. “How long were you out there?”

The man stares at you, opens his mouth, pauses.

“Three days. Maybe.”

You gape. “You spent three days floating in the East Blue and you’re not dead?” You look at his neck for gills. “Are you a fishman or something?”

“No.”

“Really? I mean, I never met any fishmen before, so …”

His eye twitches. “I’m not a fishman.”

“Well, okay, if you say so.”

What a weird guy. Then again, you’ve heard that all sorts of characters traverse the Blue Sea. Devil fruit users, talking animals, clowns. A person who can survive the ocean for a couple days on a piece of wood is hardly out of the question.

“You’re dehydrated, in any case,” you conclude. “I’ll get you some water.”

—

After gruffly accepting a glass of water and putting on some dry clothes, Swordsman proceeds to “sleep it off” for the next twenty-four hours. When he finally wakes up, it’s in the middle of the night and you’ve just started rereading your favorite book.

“Oh, he’s awake,” you say when he stirs, swinging your feet off the coffee table and leaning forward in your chair to observe.

He grimaces under the dim light of your lamp, lifting an arm to press it over his eyes. “How long was I out,” he grouses.

“’Bout a day.”

“Shit.” He wriggles around in the fuzzy blanket you’ve wrapped around him. Once he’s loosened its hold enough, he sits up slowly and looks around, expression equal parts drowsy and wary. “Where –”

“Archy took your swords and cleaned them. They’re under the couch.”

“I told you not to touch them.”

“I didn’t. My brother did.”

Casting you the most unamused glare, Swordsman bends over to look underneath the couch. He pulls his swords out and places them in his lap, inspecting the white one first with a care that makes you rest your chin in your hand, curious and charmed. His brow furrows and you know that he finds your brother’s work to be satisfactory when he moves on to inspect the other two.

“Our uncle was a bladesmith in Loguetown. He taught Archy a thing or two before he passed.”

“You’re bladesmiths?”

“Coopers. Uncle was the rebel, I guess.” You close your book and stand up. “There’s leftover soup in the fridge. I’ll heat up the broth for you.”

This time, the man does not refuse your help and only nods. As you head to the kitchen and start to reheat the soup, you glance over and catch him sipping from the glass of water you’d topped off while he was asleep. Somehow, even that small action intrigues you. You smile.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Ladling the steaming broth into a small bowl, you stick a spoon in and walk back to where Swordsman is, sitting beside him. “Here you go. Don’t drink it too fast, and all that.”

He takes the soup, blows on a spoonful, tastes it. His eyes close, and something funny happens in your stomach when he opens them again to look at you.

“’S good.”

“Really?” He nods and puts the bowl to his lips to drink directly from it. “Thanks.”

You let him finish the miso broth in silence. It gives you time to stare at him some more; even with the horrible sunburn and petroleum jelly smeared everywhere, he’s a very handsome man, that much you can tell, with broad shoulders and a pretty face and hair as green as forest moss. The three earrings on his left ear gleam gold and sway with every movement he makes.

“Are you gonna keep staring at me, or are you gonna ask me questions?”

“Hm? Oh!” Shaking your head in slight bewilderment, you smile. “Yeah, I guess it would be good to ask some questions … so, what’s your name, anyway?”

“Roronoa Zoro.”

You tilt your head with a frown. “Roronoa Zoro.” You taste the name in your mouth. “That sounds really familiar. Are you a pirate?”

“No. I hunt them.”

“You hunt them?”

“That’s what I said.”

You look at his swords again. His earrings. Three and three.

Shooting up from the couch, you dash to Archy’s room and slam the door open.

“Archimead! Wake up!” You grab your brother’s shoulders and rattle him.

“Shit – what?!” he gargles, pushing your face away with one meaty hand and sitting up. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“It’s Roronoa Zoro!”

“What?”

“The guy in our living room,” you shriek at him, practically shaking, “is the Pirate Hunter Roronoa Zoro. I fished Roronoa Zoro out of the fucking ocean.”

Archy stops rubbing his eye. “What.”

Soon enough, Zoro faces both you and your brother in the living room once more.

“You’re Roronoa Zoro? For real?” Archy asks him.

Zoro blinks up him. “Yeah.”

“Can you prove it?”

“‘Can you prove it’ – Archy, look at him. He’s got three earrings in his left ear and three fucking swords.”

“He could be some sort of copycat. We have no idea what Roronoa Zoro actually looks like.”

“You’re such a pessimist. Nobody would lug around three swords if they couldn’t use all of them at once.” You turn your attention back onto Zoro. “How the hell did you get stranded out there?”

He looks between the two of you, waiting for a moment before crossing his arms. “I was headed to Mirror Ball Island, but the boat I was on got caught in a whirlpool,” he says, displeased. “Then I got separated from the rest of the crew. Don’t know if they survived or not.”

“Mirror Ball Island?” you repeat. “That’s a three-day journey from here, at least.”

“Where’s here?”

“Dokusha Village.” You open one of the books on the table and point to a tiny strip of coast you’d labeled on the edge of the East Blue map. “Right there. You could buy a boat and sail west, straight to Mirror Ball Island.”

“I don’t have any beri on me right now,” Zoro says.

“Oh, yeah. Of course you don’t.” Archy puts his hands on his hips. “Well, the merchant ship is coming by in two weeks. If you’re all good by then, you can hitch a ride.”

“I’ll be fine by tomorrow night.”

You snort, closing the book and reclining back. “The rate you’re going, I don’t doubt it. Does that mean you want to leave earlier? You’ll still need a boat and supplies. Food, water, towels, sleeping gear. That all costs money. I mean, we could lend you some, but still.”

“I’ll work for it,” Zoro replies. “I don’t take and give nothing in return.”

Both you and Archy give a hum of approval.

—

True to his word, Roronoa Zoro is up and off the couch by the fourth day.

He doesn’t have a clue as to how to make barrels or buckets, which is expected, so he ends up helping with the grunt work of carrying staves into the workshop and stacking finished barrels. Other than that, there’s not much for him to do.

“Sorry if it’s boring,” you apologize during lunch, speaking through a mouthful of sandwich. “You’re kind of just hired muscle.”

Zoro shrugs, chewing on his own sandwich. Two girls walking by – Phoebe and Iris, the blacksmith’s daughters – spot him on the bench and giggle, hurrying past with glances over their shoulders. He appears not to care. “It’s fine.”

“I think you’re even stronger than my brother. Is it because of your training as a swordsman?”

“Probably,” he says.

“When did you start?”

“When I was eight.”

You nod sagely. “Not surprised. I’ve been helping around the workshop since I was a kid, and I only just finished my apprenticeship a few weeks ago. It’s good to start young.”

It seems that Zoro agrees by the way he grunts, stuffing the last piece of crust into his mouth.

When he’s done, you muster the courage to ask, “What’s it like, being a bounty hunter?”

Zoro raises an eyebrow at you. Then he gazes back out at the street. “It’s fine,” he responds. “Makes good money.”

You sigh exasperatedly. “Yeah, but, like, is it fun? Do you spend a lot of time at sea? See a lot of different places? Stuff like that.”

“I don’t do it for fun. My only goal is to become the world’s greatest swordsman.” He leans back and puts his hands behind his head. “It’s a shitton of traveling, both on ships and on land. I’ve been all over the East Blue.”

“Wow.” The word comes out as a sigh. You crunch longingly on a carrot stick. “That sounds amazing. It’s my dream to travel all over the world on a ship.”

“How come you’re here, then?”

You wince, hushing him hastily. Glancing behind you, you clear your throat and lean in to speak softly. “Archy hates the ocean. He worked on a merchant ship for a few months when he was eighteen and got super sick.” Upon reading Zoro’s blank expression, you clarify, “I can’t just leave him. I’m the only family he’s got now, and his younger sibling to boot. So Dokusha Village it is.”

“You’re staying because of your brother.”

“Yeah. I love him, so it’s fine.” There’s a familiar ache in your chest, but you push it down and elbow Zoro’s ribs in jest. (He doesn’t even move a muscle. Geez.) “Makes okay money. I got a bunch of adventure books to live through, anyway.”

It’s a little hard to meet your lunch companion’s eyes after that. You eat the rest of your carrots in silence, pretending to be occupied with finishing them. Zoro doesn’t utter another word.

But as the two of you get back to work, he seems a little warmer, a little less stiff. You make a silly joke and Zoro huffs out something that almost sounds like a laugh while Archy threatens to stick you in a rum barrel and roll you down a hill.

Perhaps you’ve made another friend.

—

“What are you making?”

You blow off the wood dust, closing one eye to cut a fin just right. “Shark. See?”

The bonfire you’d made crackles just a few feet away as you place the half-finished carving into Zoro’s palm. He picks it up with his other hand and twists it around, touching with intention, and you almost feel self-conscious with the way he’s examining it.

“Nice,” he finally says, and the praise makes you giddy. He hands the shark back to you.

“Thanks. I had a lot of practice.”

Zoro rests his elbows on the rock behind him and takes another swig of sake. You resume carving the shark’s fins, bare feet buried in the cool sand.

Archy’s on a date for once, so he left the two of you to your own devices for the night with a distracted wave goodbye and a warning that he’ll be back late. You took that as a chance to break into the alcohol after supper and drag Zoro down to the beach. The swordsman was willing to come along, though you suspect it was mostly for the sake.

“Ain’t that your third bottle?”

“I can hold my liquor.”

You stick your tongue out at him. “No need to brag.”

He wipes his mouth, dark brown eyes black in the firelight. They glint like steel when he looks over at you, but he doesn’t say anything – not that you’re surprised; sometimes Zoro just looks at whatever he wants without any reason. He’s not particularly complicated in that sense.

(You like that. Too many things in life are complicated.)

“Hey, Zoro.”

“Hm.”

Your lips purse. “Do you think my brother will get married one day?”

“How am I supposed to know?” His tone is flat.

“Well, I dunno! It’s just a question.” You frown, slowing in your work. “It’s just that after our parents died, he’s been too busy looking after me and the shop to court someone. He’s turning thirty next year and most people his age have settled down already. I feel kind of bad.”

“It’s not your fault,” Zoro says. “Wouldn’t he have more time now, anyway, since you can take care of yourself?”

“I think he’s been out for so long he doesn’t know how to date anymore.”

Zoro downs the rest of his sake. You know that there’s no advice he can give you regarding Archy’s marriage prospects, which doesn’t surprise you either. You suppose you just need someone to listen. It’s not like you can talk to Archy about it.

“Hell,” you remember, “I’m expected to be married by now, too. I’ve never even been on a date.”

“Really?”

“Nope. Why, are you surprised?”

Stretching his legs out in front of him, Zoro yawns and closes his eyes. “You just seem like the type.”

“What do you mean?”

“You talk a lot,” he says.

You burst out laughing. “Yeah, I do. Would that make me a good date?”

“How am I supposed to know?”

“I’m guessing you’ve never been on one, either?”

Zoro shrugs. He doesn’t look too torn up about it. “Waste of time,” he mutters.

Your grin widens. “Figured you’d say that,” you drawl, digging your blade into the shark’s mouth. “Dating doesn’t really help you become the world’s greatest swordsman, does it?”

“Nope.”

“I still think it might be fun, though. If you’re with the right person.” With that, you brush away the last curl of wood from your carving. After admiring it for a few seconds, you offer the shark to Zoro, bumping the nose softly against his cheek. He opens his eyes and turns his head to squint at it. “Here you go. All yours.”

His brow furrows as he takes it.

“It’s a going away gift. Since you’re leaving tomorrow,” you say. Folding your knife and putting it down beside you, you grab your bottle of sake and gulp down half of what remains. “Don’t forget it.”

One of the logs in the bonfire crumbles, falling into the coals. Orange sparks fly up into the smoke and disappear just as quickly. You poke at the fire with a stick, trying not to think about how sad you’re going to be tomorrow morning.

“I won’t forget,” Zoro says.

“I know.”

—

It’s almost dawn, and the family boat is packed up and ready to set sail.

“Got everything?” Archy asks, lowering into a squat to scan over all the supplies.

“Yeah.” The swordsman drags a hand through his hair. “Thanks again for the boat.”

“It’s nothing.” Your brother elbows your arm, and you sway. “Oi. He said thank you.”

“I know,” you mumble. For the first time this morning, you spare Zoro a glance and smile at him, but it’s shaky and fake and you really hate how your voice wobbles when you say, “You don’t have to thank us. Just have a safe – have a safe –” Your voice cracks, and you look down at your feet, eyes burning. “Have a safe trip,” you finish quietly.

You can feel two pairs of eyes on you as your vision goes blurry. Shit. This is so embarrassing.

The fact of the matter is that Roronoa Zoro has been in Dokusha Village for only a week, and you’re already missing him like he’s been in your life for years. You’re going to watch him get into your family’s fishing boat and sail away, the wind at his back, the East Blue before him, and you will remain on the dock with your big brother beside you and your dream in your head.

You’re being selfish, but it’s not … it’s not fair.

Archy puts his hand on your shoulder and says your name.

You wipe your nose. “What?”

“… I’ve been thinking.” He sounds hesitant, taking in a deep breath and letting it go slowly, carefully. “You’ve always wanted to travel the world on a ship.”

It’s like the world tilts on its axis.

Rigidly, you look up at your brother, eyes wide.

“I’m not dumb, you know. You’ve only stayed here because of me,” Archy says. “I’m the one who’s supposed to look after you and protect you. But you’ve been able to do that for yourself for a while, now. Right?”

“Archy.” You swallow. “What are you …?”

“I talked with Zoro last night. He’s willing to take you to Mirror Ball Island, if you want.” His smile is crooked, but it trembles at the corners as he continues. “You know how to sail, how to navigate. We’ll just have to add some extra stuff to the boat.”

You can barely breathe.

“There’s plenty of merchant ships there,” Zoro adds, leaning on his sword. “Your skills are valuable. Just be willing to pull your own weight, and they’ll take you on board. If not, I’ll tell them to.”

“You don’t have to –” Now you’re full-on bawling. You throw your arms around Archy, who wraps you in a bear hug, and then around Zoro, who stiffens. “Thank you so much. Thank you thank you thank you.”

“No problem,” Zoro mumbles, patting you on the back. When you let go to beam at him, he averts his eyes and rubs the back of his neck. “Just hurry up.”

Nodding, you dash back up to your house, Archy following close behind. You grab your bag, throw what you need into it, snatch your hat from your bedpost. Less than twenty minutes pass before you’re all ready to go.

“Got everything?” Archy asks once more at the dock. You nod and look at Zoro, who nods as well. “All right.”

You hug Archy for the last time. Tears spill over and down your cheeks. “Thank you for everything, big bro. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too, kid.” His voice is rough and trembly, muffled against your head. “Come back to visit sometime, okay?”

“Okay.”

Getting into the boat with Zoro, you help him check the rigging and hoist the sail. Archy unties the vessel and pushes the two of you off. As you float away, he waves, and you wave back, staring as he gets smaller and smaller.

“I’m not turning back,” Zoro tells you as you eventually settle in your seat. “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Is it?

You cast one last glance back at Dokusha Village, at the small point of your brother. Then you look out at the broad expanse of the ocean. And you feel many things – joy, sadness, apprehension – but above all that, you feel –

Free.

“Yes,” you say firmly. You push your hat down and smile at Zoro, and this time, it’s genuine. “It is.”

Zoro smiles back. And as the sun begins to warm your face, you whistle your father’s song and think about the journey to come.

[cloudinal]

Day 1 - Fated Meeting

[fruitsyrups]

May I request a vampire world Marcy?

you may. (I threw in a little vamp world Bonnie for you as well 🦇)

[da-janela-lateral]

Unstoppable force meets immovable object, more known as "absurdly long and complex music liker" meets "won't listen to any music".

[glass-warehouse]

oooouuughhggh,,, halloween,,

oh my god, I've got wip images too?

[insecateur]

sharing some of my yume nikki art from 2019 because it's still good

you can see them all (alongside some .flow stuff i might repost later) on my pixiv here!

[pinktrashgoblin]

“I’m on my hands and knees,

I want so much to believe.” (/lyr)

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This chapter took quite a bit longer than I’d hoped ^^” had to deal with major art block, loss of motivation and several small crises in real life, but we are SO back! Hoping the next one doesn’t take as long.

btw, y’all can’t hold me accountable for everything that happens in this chapter. I am NOT LIABLE bc YALL SIGNED UP FOR THIS/silly

[loveaetingkids]

Mitchell’s vs Good written villain: why P.A.L is a great antagonist 

With the way filmmakers fail to differentiate between sympathy and redemption,many cartoon villains come off as underdeveloped or undeserving of what they got(cough cough Namaari from Raya and the Last Dragon cough).Which is why you really got to appreciate the portrayal of P.A.L (Predictive Algorithmic Learning )in Mitchell’s vs The Machines.She’s a sentient robot with dictator tendencies and manipulative personality who throws temper tantrums when something doesn’t go her way,aka she’s good at being bad,what’s not to love? But the thing that made her even more interesting is the way her believes about humanity,while being particularly true,don’t cross out her inability to change and her hypocritical nature regarding others.

P.A.L’s attitude towards Pal Bots

As we know P.A.L’s hatred towards humans fully escalated when Mark,her creator and founder of the Pal Labs,discards her in favor of new Pal Bots,which she took as a betrayal on Mark’s part(and rightfully so!) However,when it came to hunting down Mitchells,she invents new and “better”models of pre-existing robots called Pal Max Prime. What she did was basically the same thing Mark did to her- P.A.L replaces Pal Bots in favor of newer ones,not taking into account their feelings.And while most Bots(with the exception of Eric and Deborahbot 5000) are programmed to do what they are told,it is clear that they still have some resemblance of intelligence with the way they talk and joke between one another.That’s why P.A.L using Bots as her servants showes that she only wants to be in charge,and the freedom of other robots doesn’t interest her.

Her response to Katie's speech

This is greatly highlights P.A.L’s hypocrisy : While Katie presented convincing reasons why humanity should have a second chance, the phone ignored them, opting to destroy the main character. The antagonist doesn’t want to change her ways upon seeing a living proof that family can overcome their differences and have a healthy relationship,choosing to continue viewing humans are irredeemable.The reason for this can be that she can’t let go of the way Mark treated her,and if she does then all of her actions-imprisonment of people  and trying to launch them in space-are for nothing.Or maybe she just likes being a dictator idk.

All in all, P.A.L is a great example of how you can write a sympathetic villain without a redemption arc,showing that they don’t deserve one due to not wanting to move on. 

[hplonesomeart]

Hey!! So turns out a video I made between a certain “well beloved but highly sensitive/emotionally reactive T.V” and an “orange haired inkling-turned-human” has managed to sweep my YouTube channel and accumulate 100k VIEWS!! THAT’S A LOT OF PEOPLE ACTUALLY?? My most widely viewed video EVER to exist in this moment in time?? AAAAA?? Not even mentioning the various comments and staggering increase in subs! It’s so much more then what I expected or even prepared for—might even be the most impactful thing to happen for me this year <3

…aside from graduating high school + the social connections I’ve been fortunate to make lol

BUT THE POINT IS I’d been closely monitoring the YouTube growth through the entirety of October. It’s make me smile like a dork, gawk in astonishment, dance frantically in my room from the energy boosts, and grow courage to stop being so selective/self-conscious with what I wish to share with the world! It’s kept my ambitions going!

I needed to find some way to celebrate the occasion and express my thanks—because I can’t NOT acknowledge this milestone jksjskp. Typically I try to avoid getting tunnel visioned focusing on the metrics/numbers. Mr. Puzzles had already demonstrated how much those things can mess with the minds of creatives. Caring too much about chasing views or placing your artistic value in attention seeking gets damaging. But at same time…it’s hard to deny the sense of pride the 100k achievement has filled me with. I understand that reaching 100k views doesn’t immediately make me any “better” or “worse” then I was before. I’m still just me! It only helps me feel seen by others—and that’s all I really needed. To hear some nice words & receive reminders that my ideas are cared about. So thank you SMG4 fandom for that, seriously thank you.

Please accept this Mr. Puzzle drawing as a way of sharing the happiness around. He’s so entertaining. Love him for simply existing. So glad we can all collectively be super attached to him (and the rest of the SMG4 cast of course). Can’t wait to see more incredible artworks from the fandom :)

Just incase anyone is confused by my vague description over which “animated video” I’m referring to here—hopefully this photo will help clarify lol. It’s this one!! Sorry about not outright stating the title at the start, I got carried away with writing!!

I’ve been in an odd place mentally when thinking about it. Wondering to myself if any of the attention is deserved considering it’s not even fully colored and could be dismissed as “low effort” content (despite taking several days making it). It’s easy to get into a trap of comparing yourself to others and questioning how much of the videos success is based on your skills, sheer algorithm luck, or only because you used popular characters and catered to a specific fandom. And then judging yourself by looking at other peoples videos. I’ve seen several artists post higher quality works then my own but it somehow gets less views. So why did mine succeed when others (who should have gotten just as much attention if not more) didn’t? Sometimes you feel like you’ve unfairly robbed them of that chance to be seen. However I’ve realized that I can’t ever expect views to be consistent—and comparing is pointless. So why worry about it or feel inadequate? I mean it’s pretty common for funny cat videos to go viral, so who am I to question the system lol. “Popular” YouTube videos can range from a passion project which took 7+ artists…to a clip of Toad singing Chandelier or a nonsensical Vine sketch. Anything can happen when it’s the internet! And just-so-happened my video was chosen. I should stay glad about that and get rid of all the overanalyzing. So that’s what I’ve chosen to do :)