#meddling sister

[tachiharastanacc]

Tachihara losing his brother and not understanding what he was feeling or how to deal with it since he was so young (5). And as he gets older, he starts to wonder if he really missed his brother or he missed the idea of having a brother.

He assumes that because he’s grown since then and it feels so distant that he could handle it if it were to happen now. Maybe that’s because he’s killed people of his own. But he never really wants to dwell on it.

Turns out. It’s not. It hurts just as much, but now he blames himself as well. Why wasn’t he there? Why didn’t he stop Fukuchi when he had the chance? If he’d just asked for help, this all could’ve been avoided.

He’s always been a loner to some extent, never good at processing feelings, always wanting to belong but feeling like he was an outsider.

It’s not until they’re all gone that he realizes how much emptier he feels without them.

Shunzen may have been his brother by blood, but as much as he doesn’t wanna face it. Tachihara barely remembers him.

He remembers them. He spent the last 6 years being raised by them. They always encouraged him, supported him, even when the government and fate itself were trying to control them. And yet.

He wasn’t there.

[lightdancer1]

One of the big reasons I think that it's always a bit of a bad thing to forget the Endless really aren't human:

Is because, and I admit here that this is from the POV of someone who does most, if not quite all, of my fanfics from a Death-centric perspective flip both because Gaiman did Dream well and like prequel Anakin there is only so much man pain and mangst I can take before wanting to reach through the screen and strangle the son of a bitch. Disliking Dream as a wangsty jackass who is the architect of almost all of his own problems does not mean being blind to how dysfunctional the Endless as a whole are.

Yet at the end of the day Dream is not your pantsfeels, he's the in-universe true architect of fear and maker of all nightmares, the guy who casually sends a woman to Hell because she told him no. He is inhuman and fickle and dangerous for any mortals that cross his path.......and as a being of story he is also bound by story-logic to pursue the path that makes the better story at the expense of multiple logical and even emotional reactions.

And in terms of this Dream is not really so different to the rest of the family. Even Destruction, when he walks off, very much remains an Endless and is still Destruction. He doesn't become human, he doesn't give up his powers and he goes into a long rambling set of justifications on that and believing simultaneously that the Endless interfere too much in human affairs and turns his group of friends into a minefield to ensure he stays hidden. Destruction, in short, is a flaming hypocrite at best and should not be taken as the reliable one true truth. None of the Seven Endless are that.

So what does all this have to do with Death? Simple. She will outlive the universe and Death of the Endless will be a title and a moment in time. Unlike any of the others she did outright completely quit and walked out and where Dream's captivity and Destruction's hippie moment didn't cause immediate unraveling of reality as opposed to the realm Death did. She is unlike the other six in ways that would and do contribute to why there's so much talking past each other.

The other six, even Destruction, all see their natures as intertwined with their functions, spheres, and all that go with them. Every hundred years for a day Death gives up all that power and becomes fully, truly mortal. She takes the step none of the others can bring themselves to do, and in spite of being the one that outlives the universe, she has died the most of all her kin and the DCU being what it is probably more than a few of those deaths were not pleasant ones. And this is without the equally logical assumption based on Overture that we only see the Earth mortal day, that there were and are such days on all worlds, in all forms of life.

And as I've brought this up before, too, Death's little apartment is not her realm. The realm is only glimpsed partially once, in her second miniseries and it looks every bit as dark as a realm called 'sunless lands' would. With the exception of Destruction all the other realms are seen in detail and not just a partial glimpse. Death has that detachment from that realm, which is as much a part of her as she of it.

In short, unlike the rest of her siblings I think Death is if anything in the comics the least truly focused on duty and much as I consider the 'none of them came for me' to be a good example of Dream's self-serving hypocrisy as he'd hate and scorn and react violently to anyone that actually did and Gaiman is repeatedly on record as noting that, I see the 'our purpose is our function' line as a bit of self-serving hypocrisy in the interest of cheering up her brother. Death couldn't and doesn't take dealing with her function or being an Endless well. She walked out, she keeps trying to turn herself mortal, she will one day continue to exist but no longer be an Endless.

Thus in the end, there is a great irony here. Dream is too rigidly bound by duty to ever truly entertain the idea that he could leave and figure out how to do so short of dying. Death is too frantically eager to discard her Endless status to figure out why anyone would, given the choice, choose to remain one even if it hurts them.

[batcavescolony]

S5 E12 (911 first watch through)

I can't get the idea of a Ghost Whisper/911 crossover where Melinda Gordon is in Boston (idk, finding antiques) at the same time Maddie is there for therapy. A young ghost follows Melinda but isn't doing anything but watching over her. She asks him if he needs help, and he's even more confused because his sister has never seen him before! Eventually he gets that she's not his sister, and as nice as it sounds, Daniel doesn't want to crossover yet. He's got a job to do (looking after his siblings) but he does need some help finding Maddie. Maddie and Melinda ignore the fact that they look exactly alike but talk about their paramedic and firefighter boyfriends. Daniel doesn't want Maddie to worry more, so Melinda doesn't tell her he's there, but she does give Maddie her card in case she's in Grandview or needs some antiques.

[cawareyoudoin]

I'm reading "Wyrd Sisters" again, and I checked the publishing year, and I was like. Huh. Yeah I can see this was written very close to Good Omens. There's so many themes and story beats and stuff that's just... So similar. Like Gaiman's 3rd act kiss. Authors can't help being themselves.

[heich0e]

that little suna thing i posted earlier made me think a lot about his relationship with his younger sister. big brother suna....... uhhhhhhhhhhhh mmmmmmm hmmmmmm

[forthedancingandthethriving]

Guinevere is an up and coming fisher-cat. All of them were important to the trade of Harmonia, as since their seas were particularly blessed by Caspian, they'd never run out. Fish was their specialty, and by the Muses was Guinevere going to live up to everyone's expectations.

Her father was a proud captain in Queen Alina's armada (though he had more time now, considering the Taiga Wars between Desiderio and Monaxiá were over) and her mother was one of the most famous fisher-cats there was, always bringing in large hauls.

So yeah, no pressure or anything.

"Ah!" Guinevere hisses, quickly drawing her paw from the water and shaking it. "Sea's a prickly bastard today. Zenith must've hit ya, eh?"

She sighs and leans against her boat with a loud grumble. The sea further out had been ravaged by a storm the past few days, where all the good fish was. It was far too annoying.

Her keen ears pick up the sound of someone sputtering and coughing. She quickly stands, heart racing.

Oh no, don't tell her someone went out in the storm and got washed up!

She quickly rounds to the other side of her moderately sized boat-

And stops, body going slack.

"What.. are you?" She whispers, ears pinning back.

What lays on the sand, coughing and sputtering, is not a cat. It has a snout and fur like hers, their fur chocolate. But their tail was hairless, long and thin. Small round ears were atop their head, with smaller whiskers. Their snout was more pronounced than a cats, throwing Guinevere off. All that looks vaguely familiar was the fact that.. whatever this being was, they wore something fairly similar to a painter's outfit.

They sputter again, and Guinevere panics. "Ah, Muse-damn it! You're choking!"

She rushes over and kneels down, sand clinging to her wet pants. Now so close, she saw just how small this stranger was compared to her. Almost adorable, if not for the fact they were hacking up water.

She focuses intently and starts to sing softly, feeling the magic flow through her. "Water of ocean, blessed ye be.. follow my voice, please come to me."

Water soon streams from the being's mouth, Guinevere soon had it tossed back to the ocean. Quickly, the stranger sat up, and their head hits her chin.

"Ow!"

"Gah!"

The two cry in pain and quickly separate, with Guinevere rubbing her chin and the stranger rubbing their head.

They're the one to speak first, though they have an accent so thick to Guinevere that she can hardly make out what they say other than a 'sorry! So sorry!' from what sounds like a male voice.

"It's okay!" She opens an eye to look at them. "Uh, are.. you ok?"

The stranger looks are her quizzically and looks her over, and she isn't surprised. She's never seen one of them, and they've probably never seen one of her.

He nods. "What.. you?"

She pauses to think before pointing. "Uh.. Guinevere! I'm.. a Cat."

The stranger looks down, his eyebrows furrowing as he if he was figuring it out. Then he looks back up, speaking tentatively. "Guinevere? Cate?"

"Kha-t." She speaks slowly, making sure to sound it out.

"Cat." He nods, then points to himself. "Monet. Mouse."

Guinevere thinks her brain stops as she tries to figure out what Monet just said. "M.. Mise? Mouise?" Her own accent was not helping.

"Mous." Monet says slowly, and she nods.

"Mouse." She repeats.

"Yes!" Monet nods eagerly and then frowns. "Where.. I?"

"Harmonia." Guinevere answers. She stands up and offers a paw, which Monet takes, and she's taken aback by how he reaches up just to her waist. "Ethil kingdom."

Monet seems to understand and looks around. She then hesitates before speaking.

"Come.. to my home?" She asks carefully. "Help you?"

The Mouse pauses to think before he nods.

○●○

"Thank the Muses for pa being close to that mage in Cilcia." Guinevere sighs in relief, as she clips a bracelet around her wrist, as Monet did the same.

"The Muses?" He raises a brow.

"Mhm, they're the ones we worship! We follow Caspian, Muse of water and creativity." She smiles. "It was probably thanks to him you didn't die in the ocean out there."

He seems skeptical. "Eh.. I doubt that. It was probably our ocean Artistan, Arno."

Guinevere pointedly ignores that. "Right.. well, how did you even end up here?"

"Gah.." Monet groans. "I was part of a crew that was going out to the ocean to get some new painting supplies. The clay is quite good where I'm from." He frowns. "A freak storm hit the boat out of nowhere, and the captain jumped ship."

Guinevere fur bristles. "Cowardly bastard!" She hisses. "He'd be tried and jailed for that here, the Admiral as judge!"

Monet looks surprised. "You seem to take this type of stuff seriously."

"Of course!" The she-cat nods, striding over to the brick stove. She kneels down and grabs some nearby logs stored by the wall, setting them in. She grabs a flint and strikes it several times before it lights. "The sea is Ethil's way of life! I mean, for Muses sake, it's the backbone of our industry."

He thinks, then speaks. "Do you all have magic?"

"We do." She nods as a fire ignites under the brick stove. She then stands. "Do you?"

"We express it in art."

"We express it in music."

The duo looks at each other before Guinevere rubs the back of her neck. "Can I.. get ya anything to eat?"

"Do you have an fruits?" His ears lower a bit. "Just something to tide me over."

She winces a bit and scratches her cheek. "Uhmm.. I don't, unfornately. Cats don't.. we, uh, don't really eat fruits on their own. I might have some apples..? I think?"

"That'll do." Monet nods, though he does look perplexed.

Guinevere sets a kettle of water on the before moving to search around her small, quaint cabin before she manages to get some fruit. She sets it down on a plate in front of him and smiles sheepishly. "Sorry.. it's just.. us Cats, we eat purely meat. Fruits and vegetables are usually added just for flavor."

Menot nods in understanding, and she moves to the stove, where the kettle begins to whistle. She carefully lifts it off the hot stone and pours the water into stone cups, and then she sprinkles tea leaves, which quickly soak in. She sets the kettle down on the stone counter and walks over to the table where Monet sat. The Cat set one cup down in front of him as she sat across from him.

She pointedly doesn't make eye contact. She doesn't like how something primal was telling her leap at him. "So.. how.. does taking ya to see Queen Alina sound? I'm sure she'd be willin' to help you find a way home."

He perks up at that. "Oh! That'd be wonderful!"

She smiles nervously. "Just a fair warning. She can be.. intense, ya know?"

"Ah, it'll be fine." Monet chuckles. "I'm sure I can handle meeting her."

Guinevere sweats a bit. Muses, I hope you can handle meeting my aunt.

[demonsfate]

like really just imagine every time you bring up luke skywalker, some asshole comes along and says "achtually he tried to kill his nephew and he wasn't really that great of a guy at all we shouldn't be praising him like a hero ☝️🤓" just imagine if you're trying to browse luke skywalker on any social media and instead of getting mostly just content from the original movies and the comics, you have to run through content of ppl saying the Character Sucks because he stopped believing in the jedi and he tried to kill his nephew and he just ran away instead of being the hero he "supposedly is". imagine constantly being bombarded with hate and/or joke posts that are based SOLELY on one media that depicted him poorly, that wasn't even written by the original writers

[necrophcge]

"Considering that you're disguising yourself to a degree for the purpose of blending in between humans, I think it's fair to say that you're a spy-der."

@yellowfingcr // those bold or foolish few that dare speak to us.

To anyone else among the dozens milling about Wyrm's Crossing, he would easily be mistaken as yet another disheveled refugee from Elturel in a place already filled to the bursting point with them. Garbed in dirtied clothes with an even dirtier face, with sunken red eyes that avoid even the slightest of glances thrown in his direction and horns so brittle looking a stiff breeze could break them off his forehead, the tiefling looks for all the world a beggar of spare coppers as he sits in the dirt of the road no more than a stone's toss from her.

Only keen-eyed Heysel notices the momentary breaking of this facade, her jibe a thrown pebble breaking the water's surface of his illusion. A flashing of hideous jaws and tap-tapping mandibles, accompanied with the momentary glance of his pitch black eyes and a muted hiss like that of steam escaping a too-hot kettle... before the illusion returns within the blinking of an eye, and the disheveled beggar tiefling is once more sitting beside her, gaze turned back towards the main thoroughfare.

He Who Meddles doesn't twitch per se, but the audible clack of obscured mandibles is no doubt proof that she's gotten enough of a reaction from him to amuse herself with. Not for the first time, he privately ponders the worthiness of attempting to murder her before yet again shelving it for another day, another time when she isn't expecting it, for the same reasons as he always had.

It would displease the Tav greatly to use another scroll of revivification. It would be hard-fought, too pyrrhic for his liking even if victory is assured. She is anticipating an attack, always anticipating it, always aware and awake and bow-strung for the possibility of violence in a way that he finds... almost, almost companionable.

So once again he tucks away the desire to murder and maim into its dedicated little cranny of his mind, and instead He Who Meddles keeps his many eyes fixated pointedly on the crowds and not on her too wide smile. When he does finally reply, it's with a tone one might use to discuss the day's weather or the local town gossip. "Are you aware than within the Abyss, upon descending past the bottommost layers and being subjected to the horrors throughout them, the substances that define your frail-flesh and mind-senses will begin to leak from your eyes and ears? It begins as a trickle, then a stream as every notion and detail of your fragile being is reduced to a slurry of spent existence for the creatures of the murk below to feed upon."

When he does look at her, finally, the illusion of the tiefling's face makes a point of blinking slowly at her. "I have heard it's an excruciating experience for mortals. First hand, as it were. Yet that torment only pales in comparison to the suffering your attempts at humor inflict upon others."

[just-spacetrash]

⭐

[slime-enby]

sometimes you sing a song about your mom and your sister going to a carnival thats a metaphor for committing suicide, but also your mom and your sister are metaphors for two past versions of yourself that you've lost all memory of but still haunt your brain

[goldrushzukka]

something something something azuki where they hate each other but accidentally start to love each other but god they cant *do* anything abt it bc they *hate* each other so they just sit there as one of them leaves to get an uber home but just takes a second too long to stare wondering where it all went wrong and masking it all with even more hate sex. they make me insane too btw <3

bestie this is just the aidays companion fic

[captain-of-the-gwynriel-ship]

Five Minutes to Midnight

An ACOMAF rewrite on AO3

Sneak Peak at Ch3: Sleepwalker

Catch up with the previous chapters here

Let me know if you want to be tagged!

Tag list: @beaumaismortel @s-uppertime @vulpes-fennec @the-lonelybarricade @panicatthenightcourt @coracrowart @starfall-spirit @booknerd87 @vikingmagic33 @headcanonheadcase @hlizr50 @highladysith @valeridarkness @lokisllama

[anyab]

I hate this country and there is no future to be had here but like. Immigration to where? A shit country just with a better reputation and a train maybe?

[mellotronmkll]

Overall top 5 prog records?

ugh this was really hard for me to answer because it depends on your definition of prog and nobody can freaking agree whether anything is prog or not...like I've seen someone list hot rats as one of their favorite prog albums which I was surprised to see that's one of my favorites of all time but I don't really think of zappa as prog per se although of course it makes sense but. If i was gonna count him id include One Size Fits All But. idk and then like on the flip side like people will be like rush isn't prog so. Plus so many artists labelled as prog dont even like the label of prog so i don't know but. SOME of my favorite albums that are like. classic prog (in the sense that theyre mostly bands that came out of the 'underground' music scene in england in the the late 60s/early 70s and/or are bands that often get lavelled as prog) in no particular order:

larks tongues in aspic- king crimson, thick as a brick - jethro tull, animals - pink floyd, foxtrot - genesis (of course), the least we can do is wave to eachother - van der graaf generator, and also I realize now I hit 5 but I will say close to the edge as well. Again I never claimed to not be basic

[hannahhook7744]

"You Always Hurt the One You Love" by Amy Winehouse reminds me so much of Arthur Pendragon.

[martianbugsbunny]

Trans women I love u