#their grandfather invented birds

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

did you end up skipping a court of fey and flowers that you are on neverafter already?

i love your thoughts and comments on the d20 seasons and i had been waiting for you to get to acofaf since it's my favorite 😅

I finished Fey and Flowers a couple of days ago I think

I'm in love with the Lords of the Wing

[tgirlgoddammit]

I'm turning the other beak 🦚

[sourscratched]

crumpled pocketful of offbook scraps that are just so wildly clashy and have nothing to do with each other but uhhhh. Enjoy i guess

[dmdunamancer]

COUSIN!

the lord of the wing

[inkskinned]

yesterday while feverish i wrote about how boats can moor next to each other like pigeons, cooing with the gentle rap of water against their hull. you once said that that the way i see things - birds in the water, feathers in marina paint - was "childish and naive." you said i'd been misdiagnosed - "it can't all be adhd. you might be just kind of stupid and lazy."

i still do certain things like how you taught me - turn the pillow case inside out before putting it on. drive defensively. hate myself entirely.

the prompt for this poem is "mahler's fifth." i wish it wasn't, but mahler's fifth was our song. it ended up in my book. every person that knows your name has promised me they'll give you one swift rabbit punch, right to the face. dean read the book and showed up on my front porch, drenched in sweat from running the 8 miles at 4 in the morning. he was shaking. pacifist and gentle - he works with children - i'd never seen him furious. a punch isn't going to do it, he said, and then said i'm sorry. i had to come to see if you were okay.

mahler's fifth was mine first, like my girlhood. i like the way each movement piles onto the next movement, each instrument bleeding into the next. i like the horn version the best. before i met you, i danced to it on grass still-wet from sprinklers.

later you would tell me that the way you heard it was somehow better. you understood something in it that i couldn't quite wrap my fingers into. once, on our anniversary, you asked the classical music radio station to play it for us. we missed hearing it because we were fighting. one of the things people get wrong about abuse is that sometimes victims are, like, brutally aware of the stupidity of our situation. what do you mean that you thought i wasn't good enough for you? you? you're just... nothing.

sometimes people can pull the poetry out of your life. i watched my words become clothesline, and then thin out into kite twine. i watched you chew through every good syllable of me. so many good songs and places and moments were ruined. i am glad you didn't like most of my music - less to tie back to you.

but still mahler's fifth. the music swells, and i am 21 and throwing up in a bathroom on my birthday. a woman i will later refer to as lesbian jesus runs a cool hand down my back, her perfect pantsuit starch-pressed. she told me to leave you. she said - and this is true, and not an invention of rhyme or fantasy - i'm you from the future.

i am 22, and i got home from an award ceremony, and i remember you telling me - you act so proud of yourself when you're actually so fucking embarrassing. i took you to disney world. you took my virginity. i gave up visiting spain for a week with my family - i instead choose you, to spend the time just-cuddling. you called it "our fuck week." the music swells. it probably should have been a red flag that for about 3 years - i just gave up on crying. my grandfather died and you said nothing. my uncle died and you ghosted me for 3 weeks. you said i need to protect myself from your ongoing tragedy.

every so often i come back to the memory of one of our last afternoons in person. i had just told you that i wasn't going to law school, despite the free ride - i was going to join a creative writing program. master's in fine arts. i was going to finally do it - i was going to follow my dreams. this blog was already internet-famous. however reluctantly, i would occasionally refer to myself as a poet. i got into umass amherst's writing program for fiction authors. it is one of the the top 5 programs in the country.

wait are you seriously considering actually attending that? dumbfounded, you turned completely towards me in your seat. for the 3rd time in our relationship, you almost crashed the car. you actually want to be a writer?

the first time i went viral, it was for a poem i wrote about you:

he wants to say i love you but keeps it to goodnight because love will take some falling and she's afraid of heights.

every time i see that, i want to throw up. you weren't in love with me, you were in love with the control you had over me. a little truth though: i am afraid of heights. you caught a rabbitgirl and skinned her alive.

mahler's fifth still makes me sick.

give me that back. give me back music. give me back everything i had before you. give me back fearlessness. give me back bravery. give me back a scarless body.

give me back what you took from me.

[lyculuscaelus]

Meet the characters… (EPIC version)

Odysseus "Nobody" Laërtiades, "#1 Penelope Simp": just a man; loves his wife and son; raining reigning king of Ithaca; shorter than Agamemnon; making his way back home but always seems to get into more trouble; rawrs or hoots depending on his mood; equipped with Schrödinger’s braincells

Eurylochus, "Ctimene’s #1 Husband": Odysseus’s second-in-command; doesn’t have his own instrument; likes bags; doesn’t like witches or torches

Polites, "Teganites": good with open arms; used to have blood on his hands; always survives what he gets into

Perimedes, "The Lord of Comfort Zone": good with babyyeeting; aromantic for everyone else except Polites; good relations with Polites (especially) and Elpenor; depression therapy on the lotus-eaters’ island got canceled by his captain

Elpenor, "The Fallen": loves wine and Perimedes

Pallas "Somebody" Athena, "Badass Señorita": patron of nobody; goddess of wisdom, master of war; tilts her head very often; #1 OdyPen shipper; has a scary shield

Telemachus Odysseïdes, "Little Wolf": born far from war; does battle from afar; not Odysseus’s daughter; the little wolf who bites; has a roommate™ later on

Penelope "Duck" Icarione, "Banana Peel": weep, weave, wait

Hermes "Trickster" Atlantiades, "Breaker of Fourth Walls": invents phones and the text message; always slays in discos; professional root dealer; divine messenger, tour guide in the Underworld, patron of travelers, lord of thieves, good shepherd, trustworthy businessman; world’s greatest great-grandfather

Poseidon "Forkman" Kronides, "The Muffin Man": good with gps; doesn’t get pissed off very often; master of horses, god of tides; actually has more lovers and kids than his brother; #1 Odysseus hater

Zeus Kronides, "The Judgment Call": his Honor, master of the heaven, king of gods, bringer of thunder, collector of cloud, protector of strangers, player of birds; good relations with women and boys; has a scary shield; likes to torment Odysseus’s mental health

[tilseptemberends]

My favorite thing about Dimension 20 is that some days I'm sat thinking about characters like Adaine, a young woman who has experienced not just feeling like she wasn't good enough for her parents but having it actively reinforced and supported through their words and actions. Or Tula, a mother who loses her partner and despite doing her best is just tired and lost and knows her babies are the only thing keeping her from giving up entirely.

And some days I'm scrolling Tumblr laughing to myself about "our grandfather who invented birds and is definitely still alive guys" and a GoT type story set in some person's fridge/kitchen.

They got range, baby <3

[kaelor0409]

Rest in peace, Barry.

No, he's not dead. He's resting! Hopefully peacefully.

Yes, I did point upward when I said it, but that's because he's in space. I can see how that got misunderstood.

So to be clear: not dead. Just resting, and up in space.

Rip Big Barry Syx I know you are not dead but you would have loved Never Stop Blowing Up.

[wellnoe]

her grandfather invented birds

[id in ALT]

[artificialhaunts]

Their grandfather invented birds

[littlepinksapphire]

My grandfather invented birds. We are not the same

[conanssummerchild]

writing a fic abt rick having an ed bcs why would i recover when i can just project all my issues onto fictional old men in cartoons and pretend everythings better now ‼️

tw eating disorder, minor self harm and vomit near the end

Morty stopped in the open doorway of the garage, watching Rick who was sat scribbling down some kind of invention idea, or equation, or whatever it was he did when Morty wasn't around, for all Morty knew he might well be writing fanfiction.

An involuntary smile pulled at his lips at the idea of his almost 70 year old genius grandfather spending his free time writing silly little stories at his work bench. What would he even write? Ball Fondlers fanfic? Maybe he wrote about his stoic bird friend, Rick had always been touchy with him and Rick wasn't touchy with anyone.

When Morty focused back on Rick he wasn't writing anymore, the slightly crumpled piece of paper shoved to the side as he fiddled with what looked like a small metal box with a bunch of brightly coloured wires poking out of the sides. A small spark shot out of one of the wires Rick was holding and he cursed loudly, shaking his hand.

"Fuck, Morty, are you just gonna– gonna stand there, or are you gonna pass me the fucking, uh– the thing."

Rick waved his hand in the general direction of the shelf nearest to Morty, but there were so many assorted trinkets on the shelves, Morty had no idea if Rick wanted a wrench, or a hammer, or one of his laser guns, maybe the box was like a new battery for them?

"W-what thing, Rick?"

"The thing, Morty! The fucking– the uh, destornillador."

"What? Rick, I don't know what that means. W-w-what is that?"

"Jeez, Morty, what are they teaching you at that crap school you love so much?" Rick scowled, tossing the box to the side and getting up to grab the screwdriver himself.

"I havent been to school in like a month, Rick!" Morty exclaimed. "And even then I only got to stay for like an hour before you were dragging me out again!"

"Whatever." Rick said with a burp, "School's dumb, Morty. I'll teach you Spanish myself. B-but, uh, not now."

He turned back to his box, done with the conversation, but Morty stayed hovering in the room, remembering what he had come for in the first place.

"Okay, um, w-w-well lunch is ready."

"I'm busy."

Morty sighed, having expected that answer already. "When's the last time you ate, Rick? Or slept? Or... showered?" Morty said, wrinkling his nose a little.

Rick ignored him, pulling at a blue wire.

"Rick!" Morty frowned.

"What, Morty? J-jesus christ, what the fuck do you want?"

"I want you to have lunch with the family."

"And I said no, so screw off."

"Rick, come on, it would make mom so happy."

Rick glared at him, not bothering with an answer.

"...Wouldn't y-you do it for your original Beth if you could?" Morty tried.

Rick slammed the box on the table, causing the thin metallic shell to crack, sparks flying from it, the sudden noise making Morty jump.

"The fuck did you just say?" Rick snarled.

"S-s-sorry!" Morty squeaked. "I didn't m-mean– mean it in a bad way!"

"Get the fuck out." Rick said icily, eyes blazing.

Morty stumbled out of the room, shutting the door behind him to the sound of something crashing. Probably Rick throwing the damaged box across the room.

Morty winced. In his defense he was worried about Rick, and sometimes, depending on his mood, something like that would've gotten Rick to cave, clearly he wasn't feeling so sentimental today, more annoyed and angry.

"What was that about?"

Morty startled a little and turned to see Summer looking at her phone behind him.

"Just, y'know, Rick being... Rick."

"Mhm, pro tip, don't bring up his dead daughter to try and blackmail him into something he hates." Summer drawled. "You can only do that if he's already half convinced, or if he's feeling especially depressed sometimes.

"Summer! That's– that's messed up!"

She quirked an eyebrow. "Oh, yeah, so only you can manipulate grandpa Rick?" Summer scoffed. "God forbid women do anything." She said sarcastically and turned to walk away.

"Wait!" Morty fidgeted with his hands. "Can you... help me? To get him to have lunch w-with us? Please?"

"Yes, but not now. He's already upset so if we double down on trying to get him to eat he's only gonna clam up."

Morty nodded. "I know that– but how do you? You don't spend as much time with Rick as I do."

"Because he's like mom. Who do you think got her to stop drinking before parent-teacher conferences at school?"

"Wow. That's pretty fucked up that you had to do that, though, y'know, Summer."

"Yeah, well, we're the Smiths, Morty. Is anyone in this house not disordered?"

Morty winced at the blunt statement, Rick really was rubbing off on her. But it was kind of true.

"Guess it runs in the family." He muttered

"Guess it does."

---

Morty hadn't been planning on seeing Rick again until the next day. He knew that when Rick got upset he needed his space. Morty didn't quite get it because when he was upset all he wanted was for someone to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay, but Rick wasn't like him he supposed.

If he was being honest it made him nervous to leave Rick alone in those bad headspaces he got into. Rick was volatile and unpredictable and a borderline danger to himself and often others. He'd walked in on a couple... compromising situations where Rick had had to explain away why he was passed out in his chair or why there was blood on his hands and his lab coat despite being the only person in the room.

Morty pretended to believe him when he said he had been doing a messy dissection experiment or that "This isn't blood, this is Balorkian dust I mixed with red Squanchenite fluid from Planet Squanch, Morty." But truthfully those moments haunted him.

However, he didn't want to invade Rick's space, so he let him be and tried to eat and sleep until Rick emerged like nothing had happened, even though Morty knew what habits of his went on behind those closed doors.

Of course Morty's patience had it's limits, like when two hours after he had left Rick in the garage, angry, there was the sound of something smashing, closely followed by an unmistakable sound that Morty had grown too familiar with since Rick had moved in. The sound of a body thudding to the ground.

He was up from the sofa in a flash, at the garage door before Summer could even put down her phone, flinging it open.

He felt like he couldn't breathe, but the only sight that greeted him was a smashed bottle and rick lying on the floor next to it, not looking any more dead than usual, looking up at Morty blearily, cracking a smile.

"Oh, hi Morty. H-hey buddy." He slurred, clearly drunk out of his mind.

"Jesus fucking christ, Rick." Morty said weakly.

"What happened?" Summer breathed, now standing at his side.

"He's just drunk." Morty muttered, wrinkling his nose at the overpowering smell that he hadn't registered before between his state of panic and shallow breathing.

Summer ventured into the garage, picking up an empty bottle and sniffing it. "God, grandpa Rick, what the hell are you drinking in here, fucking rubbing alcohol?"

"Sum-Sum! 'M just having some– some fun drinks. Fun drinks just a lil' bit. Besides I only ever drank rub-rubbin' alcohol once, n' it was– tasted like shit."

"What? I was being sarcastic, why would you drink that?"

"Because I was sad... was sad 'nd lonely after B-b-blood Ridge, couldn't find anythin' else. But 'm not s-sad now."

"What's Blood Ridge?" Summer frowned, "Actually it doesn't matter right now, you need to sober up."

"Get him some water," Morty interjected. "I'll clean up the glass. I also know where he keeps all his hangover serums and stuff, but he told me not to let you into any of his drug stashes."

"Fair enough." Summer shrugged, leaving to get Rick some much needed water.

While she was gone, Morty felt along the wall until he found the small hidden panel under Rick's desk. He fished out the light blue vial of fluid for hangovers, the red one he'd forced Rick to make that would sober him up and a green one that basically equivalated to getting your stomach pumped if you took it, just in case he'd taken more than just alcohol.

He shut the panel securely and placed the three coloured vials on Rick's work bench, grabbing a purple tube-like gadget from a shelf. He pressed a button on the back of it and typed in "Broken Glass" on a small hologram keyboard that emerged, then pressed that first button again. A blue ray shot out, scanning the garage, and the pieces of smashed bottle disappeared in a matter of seconds.

Morty looked over at Rick, who was still lying on the floor, but now he was tracing his fingers along a crack in the cold ground, his expression so solemn he almost looked sober.

"Rick?" Morty asked hesitantly.

"I miss her." He said flatly. "I miss her s-so much."

His words were still a little slurred but his tone had lost all the previous levity.

"I tried to save her, Morty, I t-t-tried, but I couldn't bring her back. And no one could ever replace her." A rough sob escaped his throat. Morty felt frozen. "I'm a crappy fuckin'– piece of shit father but I didn't want to be. I was gonna fuckin' give– give up everything for them, and I would've been happy. I would've been so happy as long as I had them, but he fuckin' took that from me! I nnever even got a chance."

Rick was crying, he was crying so hard that his tears stained the concrete dark grey and snot ran down his face sideways. He was shaking like a leaf and gasping for air.

Morty crouched down next to him, fists clenching and unclenching, unsure if he should hug Rick, or if that would make it worse. What else could he do?

"Oh– oh shit, Rick, I–"

"My little girl, my baby." Rick continued between sobs. "She meant everything to me. S-so yeah, I would be better f-for her if I could, but she's gone. There's no point."

Rick's sudden fit of violent sobs was calming down, replaced by a look that Morty could only describe as pure hoplessness and defeat washing over his features.

"'S no point in anything."

Shit, this was bad. Rick didn't admit defeat, and he certainly didn't talk so openly about his feelings like this.

"Aw jeez, Rick, come on don't– don't– don't say that. we killed Rick Prime, remember?" Morty said, wringing his hands anxiously.

"Yeah, I remember." Rick said, tone now devoid of emotion. "I remember killin' him with my bare hands, watchin' the life drain out of his eyes as his blood dripped down my fists. And I remember nothing changing. W-w-what d'ya do when you achieve your life long goal and nothin's better? It didn't bring them back, it didn't– didn't give me closure or give me a reason to live. I still can't sleep, petrified he's in the fucking house, comin' for my new family, that he'll kill all of you to teach me that t-that's what happens when I-I care about people."

Rick wiped his face with his lab coat sleeve, rubbing away the snot, drool and dried tears while Morty just kneeled next to him, frozen and unsure what to say.

"Rick..." he started but then Summer stepped through the doorway and Rick's demeanour instantly changed.

"Summerfest!" he called out and Morty watched, a little shocked, as Rick's whole face changed in the blink of an eye, going back to the cheerful, goofy expression he'd been wearing when he and Summer first came in. It didn't look artificial to Morty at all, even now that he knew it was. How could Rick just switch it on and off just like that?

"I brought water and coffee." Was all Summer said, placing two mugs on the workbench. "And a cereal bar."

The second statement sounded a little more unsure and Morty could've sworn he saw Rick's jaw clench for a second.

"Gimmie coffee." Rick said, making grabby hands, still lying on the floor.

"Water first." Summer replied, handing him the larger of the two mugs.

Rick pouted a little but as soon as the mug was in his hands he drank thirstily, finishing the whole thing in one go.

"You want more?" Summer asked, taking the mug, but he just shook his head quietly.

"Okay," Morty cleared his throat when his voice came out a little shaky. "drink this."

He handed Rick the red 'get sober' vial and Rick chugged it obediently, making a face. "Tastes like– like shit." He offered.

While he seemed a little calmer after the water and serum, his eyes were still unfocused and his voice sounded thick, like his tongue didn't fit in his mouth properly, hints of his accent were slipping through too.

"Did you- are you on drugs r-right now?" Morty asked, reaching for the green vial of serum.

"Maybe." Rick mumbled. His eyelids were starting to droop a little and he curled up more comfortably on the floor.

"Hey, Rick, don't go to sleep okay? What did you take?" Summer asked, crouching down next to him, shaking him a little. He groaned. "Come on, we just have to make sure you're not overdosing and then you can sleep. Maybe not on the floor."

"'M not overdosing." Rick grumbled.

"What did you take?"

"I dunno. Just some random alien drugs I found i-in my pocket." He said dismissively with a burp. "Actually one of 'em was probably adderall. Look at me bein' all responsible an-and takin' my meds n' shit."

He of course immediately showed his 'responsibilty' by gagging and then throwing up on the floor.

Morty winced, reaching for the purple device again while Summer tried to coax him into drinking the green liquid, frowning deeply.

Finally Rick gave in, sipping from the small vial, and almost instantly his eyes began to clear up a little bit.

"Why'd I make these work so well?" He groaned. Then, "My head is killing me, I want coffee."

Summer passed him the second mug and he gestured toward the hangover serum, which Morty promptly passed to him and Rick poured it in his coffee.

He gulped down half the coffee and sighed, wiping his mouth with his already rather dirty sleeve. "Fuck, that's better."

He downed the rest of it and placed the mug on the ground, getting to his feet shakily. He swayed and nearly fell, leaning onto the wall to steady himself as the dizzy spell passed, and then stretched, his back cracking loudly.

He took a few wobbly steps towards the door but Summer blocked the way.

"Fuck– fuck off Summer I gotta– I'm gonna go take a nap."

"Could you maybe eat something first?" She asked firmly, holding up the cereal bar.

"No."

Rick tried to sidestep her but she blocked the way again.

"Summer, don't fucking piss me off right now, I'm serious."

She stood her ground. "Just eat the cereal bar, grandpa Rick. Please."

"Summer, for fuck's sake, I said no!"

"Grandpa," She sighed, the arm holding the bar dropping defeatedly back down to her side. "Do you have an eating disorder?"

The garage was deathly quiet for a second.

"Wha-What?! I'm not a teenage girl in a f-f-f– goddamn netflix drama, Summer." Rick snarled. "What the fuck kinda question is that?"

He gestured wildly, taking another step forwards, which quickly seemed to be the wrong option as a sudden wave of dizziness hit him hard, making him almost loose his balance. He blindly tried to grab onto the back of his chair somewhere behind him, but missed and fell on his ass.

"Rick!" Morty and Summer both rushed to his side, Morty's eyes beginning to well up a little from all the stress of the day.

"I'm fine, don't– don't fucking touch me." He said, shaking Summer's hand off his shoulder, which caused another wave of nausea to hit.

"Please eat this." Summer said nervously, voice shaking as she pushed the cereal bar into his left hand, his right one gripping at his hair.

"Summer, I promise you if I eat that shit right now I'm gonna throw the fuck up."

"Please?" Morty pouted, eyes big and teary.

All it took was one look at him, and with only a brief moment of hesitation Rick snatched the cereal bar from Summer, muttering angrily under his breath.

Morty only caught "Me cago en la puta." and "Maldito cabrón." which he more or less understood, more familiar with swear words than any other words in the Spanish language.

Rick peeled away the wrapper slowly with unsteady hands and took a small bite.

Morty and Summer watched in silence, not wanting to discourage him by saying the wrong thing—which with Rick could be anything—as Rick uncomfortably ate the cereal bar.

"There you fucking go." He said weakly, Throwing the now empty wrapper at Summer, but missing as it was too light to travel more than a couple centimetres, landing somewhere by his feet.

"Thank you." Summer almost whispered.

They sat in silence for a while, Morty sniffling and rubbing at his eyes and Summer shuffling a bit closer to him for both of their comfort.

Rick was sitting with his knees losely bent and his head braced in his hands, trying to overcome another hit of nausea.

He wouldn't exactly say he tried super hard to keep the cereal bar down, but it wasn't deliberate when he vomited it down the front of his shirt.

"Oh! Aw jeez..." Morty winced.

"I did warn you."

"In our defense, you had every reason to be lying to us."

"Fuck you, Summer." It sounded weak even to his own ears.

She sighed softly.

"Morty, get his shirt off. Do you have pijamas or do you sleep in jeans and a lab coat?"

"Jeans an-and a lab coat."

"...I was joking, but okay." Summer said, flipping the switch that opened Rick's garage closet and grabbing one of his sets of identical outfits.

Rick squirmed, making noises of complaint as Morty tried to take off his current shirt.

"Rick– stay still, you have vomit on your clothes."

"I'm not fucking two years old, Morty." He scowled. "I can change by myself."

Rick tried to sit up but wobbled and then slumped back against the wall, needing more time to recover. Morty reached for his shirt again and this time Rick let him pull it carefully up over his head without resisting. Morty took the new set of clothes from where Summer had left them on the floor next to him.

Summer wasn't looking but Morty still shielded Rick's body from sight with his own, pointedly not mentioning the raised scars and jagged, angry, red cuts littering his arms which he had already suspected would be there.

Rick shifted uncomfortably, seeming relieved when Morty didn't want to talk about it.

"Okay." Morty said, helping Rick pull on his clean lab coat too.

"I'm going to bed." Rick grumbled, not waiting for him to continue, just getting up slowly.

He felt weak and shaky and his brittle old bones weren't exactly helping out. Despite his thousands of cybernetic implants he was still human, much to his dismay, and he couldn't treat his body as badly as he did when he was 30. Not that that ever seemed to stop him, managing to still maintain the same shitty habits he'd had for years at the ripe age of 67.

He stumbled through the dining room, Morty and Summer trailing after him, not discouraged by the glare he sent their way.

As soon as he reached his room, he slumped onto his bed with a groan.

"R-rick?"

"Fuck off, Morty." He snapped into his pillow, a little muffled by it.

Morty hesitated, exchanging a glance with Summer, who shrugged.

"...Ookay, Rick. Uh, see– see you at dinner, today? maybe?'

"Don't count on it."

Summer frowned, Starting to say something, but Rick interrupted, "I'm gonna apply my room's Lock Protocols in ten seconds, so i-if you're still in here, I'm not letting you out until I'm done sleeping. A-a-and if you're standing in the doorway, you're gonna get fucking squashed in the doors."

"Whatever, Rick, fuck you too." Summer huffed, pulling Morty out of the doorway with her.

"Room, activate Sensory Protocol 2. And t-tell Summer to go fuck herself."

"Sensory Protocol 2 activated." Came the mechanical voice and a heavy metal door snapped shut. "Go fuck yourself, Summer."

Summer scoffed. "Dick." Followed by a sigh. "What are we gonna do?"

"I-I don't know." Morty admitted. "There's not much we can do if Rick won't accept help. And he won't."

"So what? We just give up on him?" Summer asked accusingly, putting her hands on her hips.

"No, Summer, J-jeez. I just– We're gonna have to get creative."

"Fuck."

---

thats it thats the end i didnt know how tf to end this but my goal wasnt to rewrite like the bible idfk it was just to put rick through shit and put completely unfair expectations on summer and mortys shoulders so that they could ALL suffer in this fic !! :3 also this is so mf long i sincerely apologise if u read all that

[wheelsupin-azarathmetrionzinthos]

Can't believe Grandfather from Dimension 20's A Court of Fey and Flowers invented Douglas the First Worst Bird

[baki-tiene-un-simp]

Hey Hey hey! Yujiro, Jack, Baki and Hanayama, BUT. . . They are traditional Onis from the Japanese folklore 👀

En lo profundo de la montaña / Deep in the mountain.

~Palabras / Words~ 1k

It is often whispered that in the high mountains of Japan there are monstrous creatures, mischievous entities that enjoy tormenting people who are unlucky enough to get lost on mountain trails. Demons similar to enormous beasts with fangs like daggers, mountains for muscles and horns majestic like a crown, but terrifying like enormous spears.

It may sound like a legend invented to keep people away from the mountains, to prevent hikers from getting lost or having fatal accidents, but there is simply something that can disturb you about the religiosity with which this legend is maintained; as if it were not a story, if not, a warning.

They warned you a lot, all those kind old people who seemed so concerned when you expressed that your destiny was in the mountains. The worried look on their faces made you endeared, but it was also disturbing how they believed, so fervently, that if you weren't careful you would end up running into those terrifying creatures. However, you couldn't turn back now. Your grandfather, a self-proclaimed hermit in his eighties, lived at the top of the mountain, and it was your responsibility as the eldest grandson/granddaughter to take care of his health now that your father is gone, as well as supplying him with provisions for up to a month.

You belong to a very close-knit and somewhat traditional family, you couldn't even think of turning your back on your grandfather, even if he wants that. Your father went up the mountain every month, cleaned your grandfather's house, showed him respect and came back down, every month without fail. Now it was your turn.

You carried the provisions on your back, duly packed and sealed, setting off towards the mountain when the birds were still waking up and singing in the morning. The paths were lonely, but full of vegetation, an unmistakable sign of the little traffic that there was in that area, the view was simply beautiful; You don't remember the last time you saw a green as bright as the color of the trees that stood and covered the ground.

You kept up the pace of your walk as you reflected, remembering all the warnings and good wishes from the people who lived at the base of the mountain. They talked about the oni and how aggressive they were, that you shouldn't leave the trail for anything and that you shouldn't stop at anything. They mentioned that there were some who walked around these parts more frequently, their names and how you could identify them.

When they told you about Baki they told you to be careful, although he was the calmest among the four oni in the area, the reddish color of his skin still betrayed his greedy nature. Despite his otherworldly and monstrous appearance, it was comforting to look at him, his smooth features a little more striking than his rough fangs and horns that stood out from his short tangle of hair. It would be lucky to run into him when you are lost, he is usually in a good mood, so if you can give him some interest, he will be willing to help you get off the mountain unscathed.

Both Jack and Kaoru can be unpredictable, although they are not very problematic, but they are not completely neutral either.

Jack is a tall oni, you could mistake him for a building if you forgot that you were in the forest, the reddish tone of his skin also denotes a certain greed, but he does not seem to follow these instincts unless he is in the presence of the blue oni. Jack shows very little interest in the travelers, almost ignoring their insignificant presence if he is in a good mood; If he's upset, well, it's easy to imagine what such a large, powerful creature could do to a tiny human who scream and struggles in vain against him.

Kaoru is not very different from Jack, his reddish skin marked by multiple wounds shows that he is a creature to be feared, that he is no stranger to battles and that he is capable of resisting a lot. No one wants to be a prisoner of his enormous hands, gigantic prisons that would end the life of anyone. Not many incidents have been heard involving Kaoru, but everyone who has gone on his hunt never returns. He is more selfless than Jack when it comes to human presence, but his calmness does not guarantee safety.

And finally, the blue oni, Yujiro. He is angry and confrontational in nature, the presence of people is repulsive to him and there is no chance of turning out well if you end up in front of him. Many of the incidents on the mountain are his work. They say that his eyes shine a crimson red in the middle of the darkness of the night, you won't be able to confuse them with anything, because once you notice them it will be too late. There is no way to reason with him, there is only one way to go with him; run away, the problem is that nothing guarantees your survival. No matter how fast you run or how much advantage you think you have, he will catch you.

You didn't quite believe in that, but inside you… Deep inside you, there was a little voice that begged heaven for your path to be safe and away from any problematic entity that would disturb the rhythm of your walk.

The sound of footsteps caught your attention, you would swear they were footsteps. You were sure. The birds moved and took flight, fleeing, small, harmless animals ran a few meters away from you, fleeing, and if it weren't something intangible you would assume that the breeze blowing against your face was also fleeing.

You froze when you noticed a large silhouette among the trees, from your place, you were unable to make out anything other than its large size and unusual height, it was certain that it was not a human. Your mind thought of every possibility; A bear… A oni. Bear or Oni, you couldn't face them, you had to get away before they noticed you, but it was difficult to look away thanks to the fear you felt at the thought of losing them from your field of vision.

You backed away slowly without looking away, which made you not notice the unevenness in the path, you fell with a scream of surprise and when you recovered you could notice that the great shadow was looking at you with luminescent eyes. You froze in place as a clawed hand emerged from the darkness to make its way through the trees that blocked its path, your mind hazy and your throat dry from the long gasps of fear…

… You really would have preferred a bear.

[Open ending to let you choose the ending you prefer, and I don't know, maybe I can write continuations with each character (Baki, Jack, Kaoru or Yujiro)]

Versión es español.

Se suele murmurar que en las altas montañas de Japón existe criaturas monstruosas, traviesas entidades que disfrutan al atormentar a las personas que tienen la mala suerte de perderse en los senderos montañosos. Demonios similares a enormes bestias con colmillos como dagas, montañas por músculos y cuernos majestuosos como una corona, pero atemorizantes como enormes lanzas.

Puede sonar como una leyenda inventada para mantener a las personas lejos de las montañas, para evitar que los senderistas sigan perdiéndose o teniendo accidentes fatales, pero simplemente hay algo que puede perturbarte por la religiosidad con la que se mantiene esta leyenda; como si no fuera un cuento, si no, una advertencia.

Te lo advirtieron mucho, todos esos amables ancianos que se mostraban tan preocupados cuando expresabas que tu destino estaba en las montañas. La mirada preocupada en sus rostros te daba ternura, pero también era inquietante la forma en que creían, tan fervientemente que si no tenías cuidado terminarías topándote con esas aterradoras criaturas. Sin embargo, no podías retroceder ahora. Tu abuelo, un autoproclamado ermitaño de unos ochenta y tantos años, vivía en la cima de la montaña y era tu responsabilidad como hijo mayor el cuidar de su salud ahora que tu padre se ha ido, además de abastecerlo de provisiones hasta el mes siguiente.

Perteneces a una familia muy unida y algo tradicional, ni siquiera podrías pensar en darle la espalda a tu abuelo, aunque él quiera eso. Tu padre subía cada mes a la montaña, limpiaba la casa de tu abuelo, le mostraba respeto y volvía a bajar, cada mes sin falta. Ahora era tu turno.

Cargaste las provisiones a la espalda, debidamente empacadas y selladas, emprendiendo camino hacia la montaña cuando todavía las aves se despertaban y cantaban por la mañana. Los senderos eran solitarios, pero repletos de vegetación, una señal inconfundible del poco tránsito que había en esa zona, la vista era simplemente hermosa; no recuerdas la última vez en que viste un verde tan brillante como lo era el color de los árboles que se alzaban y arropaban el suelo.

Mantuviste el ritmo de tu caminata mientras reflexionabas, recordando todas las advertencias y buenos deseos de las personas que vivían en la base de la montaña. Hablaban sobre los onis y sobre lo agresivos que eran, que no debías salir del sendero por nada y que no te detuvieras ante nada. Mencionaron que había algunos que se paseaban con mayor frecuencia por estos lares, sus nombres y como podrías identificarlos.

Cuando te hablaron de Baki te dijeron que tuvieras cuidado, si bien era el más tranquilo entre los cuatro onis de la zona, el color rojizo de su piel seguía delatando su codiciosa naturaleza. A pesar de su apariencia sobrenatural y monstruosa, era reconfortante mirarlo, sus facciones suaves eran un poco más llamativas que sus toscos colmillos y los cuernos que resaltaban por su corta maraña de pelo. Sería una suerte el toparse con él cuando estás perdido, usualmente está de buen humor, así que, si puedes darle algo de interés, estará dispuesto a ayudarte a salir de la montaña ileso.

Tanto Jack como Kaoru pueden ser impredecibles, si bien, no son muy problemáticos, pero tampoco son completamente neutrales.

Jack es un oni de gran altura, podrías confundirlo con un edificio si olvidaras que te encuentras en el bosque, el tono rojizo de su piel también denota cierta avaricia, pero no parece seguir dichos instintos a menos que se encuentre en presencia del oni azul. Jack muestra muy poco interés en los viajeros, casi ignorando su insignificante presencia si está de buen humor; Si está molesto, bueno, es fácil intuir lo que una criatura tan grande y poderosa podría hacerle a un pequeño humano que grita y lucha en vano contra él.

Kaoru no es muy diferente a Jack, su piel rojiza marcada por múltiples heridas muestran que es una criatura de temer, que no es ajeno a las batallas y que es capaz de resistir mucho. Nadie quiera ser presa de sus enormes manos, gigantescas prisiones que acabarían con la vida de quien sea. No se ha escuchado muchos incidentes que involucren a Kaoru, pero toda persona que ha ido en su casería jamás regresan. Es más desinteresado que Jack cuando se trata de la presencia humana, pero su tranquilidad no garantiza seguridad.

Y por último, el oni de color azul, Yujiro. Es de naturaleza iracunda y conflictiva, la presencia de la gente es repulsiva para él y no hay oportunidad de salir bien si terminas frente a él. Muchos de los incidentes de la montaña son obra suya. Dicen que sus ojos brillan en un rojo carmesí en medio de la oscuridad de la noche, no podrás confundirlos con nada, porque una vez que los notas ya será demasiado tarde. No hay forma de razonar con él, solo hay un camino a seguir con él; huir, el problema radica en que nada te garantiza sobrevivir. Sin importar que tan rápido corras o cuanta ventaja creas tener, él te atrapara.

No terminaste de creer en eso, pero dentro de ti… Muy dentro de ti, había una vocecita que rogaba al cielo porque tu camino sea seguro y alejado de cualquier entidad problemática que perturbe el ritmo de tu andar.

El ruido de pasos llamo tu atención, jurarías que fueron pasos. Estabas seguro. Las aves se movieron y emprendieron vuelo, huyendo, pequeños e inofensivos animales corrían a unos metros lejos de ti, huyendo, y si no se tratase de algo intangible darías por hecho que la brisa que soplaba contra tu rostro también estaba huyendo.

Te congelaste cuando notaste una silueta grande entre los árboles, desde tu lugar eras incapaz de distinguir algo más que su gran tamaño e inusual altura, era seguro que no era un humano. Tu mente pensó en cada posibilidad; un oso… Un oni. Oso u Oni, no podrías hacerle frente, debías alejarte antes de que te notara, pero era difícil apartar la mirada gracias al miedo que sentías al pensar en perderlo de tu campo de visión.

Retrocediste lentamente sin apartar la mirada, lo que hizo que no notaras el desnivel en el sendero, caíste con un grito de sorpresa y cuando te recuperaste pudiste notar que la gran sombre te miraba con ojos luminiscentes. Te congelaste en tu sitio cuando una mano con garras salió de la oscuridad para abrirse camino entre los árboles que bloqueaban su paso, tu mente estaba confusa y tu garganta se secó por los largos jadeos que te provocaba el miedo…

… Realmente hubieras preferido un oso.

[Final abierto para dejar que escojas el final que prefieras, y no sé, quizá pueda escribir continuaciones con cada personaje (Baki, Jack, Kaoru o Yujiro)]

[annoyinglandmagazine]

I’m having some thoughts about the council of Elrond. Because how much detail did he really go into in his recap? Like to explain who Sauron is did he go back to the very beginning? Because they said that the full story was known to none so that implies a pretty decent amount of information?

Did he start talking about the Silmarils? ‘And then my sort of adopted grandfather literally invented murder. He also created these shiny rocks that are a lot more important than you’d think. Apparently important enough for my mother to choose them over her own and her children’s lives so she jumped off a cliff. Don’t worry she’s still alive she turned into a bird and now she’s with my father who turned into a star, that one over there see? So then my brother Elros and I, yes that Elros, were raised by the same mass murderers.’

‘Then the gods show up and destroy the continent, because that’s the most responsible way to solve a problem’

‘Then my cousin fell in love with Sauron after deciding for some reason that creating three more shiny magic objects was a good idea after witnessing the entire thing I just described.’

‘And then everyone died, except my scary mother in law.’

‘Any questions?’ Erestor and Glorfindel are laughing, the elves are all horrified and everyone else is really confused.

‘I mean granted this plan has some flaws, but my great grandmother managed to steal from Sauron’s boss almost entirely unarmed by singing a song, so stupider plans have worked. I mean granted she was part god-

At this point everyone is so disturbed they just decide to go along with it. And they are all very glad they are not part of Elrond’s family. Little do they know they probably are.

[laurelindebear]

Ardeth Bay Headcanons

As well as his native variant of Arabic, he is fluent in a number of other regional dialects, and proficient to fluent in English, French, German, Italian, some Coptic and some Middle and Late Kingdom phrases.

Is an avid reader, especially of poetry. He'll pick up any volume of poems he can, ancient, modern, or anything in between, in any language he knows.

Poetry and storytelling are extremely popular pastimes amongst the Medjai. As well as readings, Ardeth writes some poetry of his own.

When they are invented and he gets a chance to experience them, he loves roller-coasters.

Drinks alcohol sparingly, but has been known to indulge in pomegranate wine if he's feeling laid-back.

Beverage of choice is strong Turkish coffee, which he drinks anytime he has the water to spare.

Has a sweet tooth, and gets sparkle-eyed for strawberry tarts when he first tries them while visiting the Carnahan-O'Connells in England.

Strong coffee + sweet tooth means his favorite treat would be a cafe mocha, full fat milk and whipped cream with cinnamon on top.

Has a younger sister, Nesreen, with whom he is very close (even though she is prone to teasing him, as little sisters do.)

His mother is deaf, so he signs with her using a Medjai variant of Arabic sign language which incorporates some of their signal codes and other gestures.

Has always had a falcon named Horus since he was first old enough to learn. Horus I was presented to him by his father. Subsequent birds all take the name (Horus II, Horus III, etc.) like a little dynasty.

Has cultivated a good rapport with a merchant in Cairo who makes and sells the highest quality soaps and emollients. Ardeth keeps his spare money aside to pick up the best shampoo and hair oil when he's in the city. Those luxuriant locks don't happen by accident.

(He may ignore the question, if asked about it, but Nesreen will happily spill the beans.) If he shares his hair care secrets and products with you, you have made it to his innermost circle.

Surprisingly good with children. When interacting with young kids, he will squat down to talk on their level, face to face. Enjoys giving piggyback rides to young family members, and lifting them up to sit on the saddle in front of him when they are too young to learn to ride yet.

Has a great dry sense of humor he shows only around people he's comfortable with (and when he's not in Serious Medjai Chieftain mode).

He inherited the knife with the elaborate handle (seen on his back in the first film) from his grandfather.

Slow to open up and trust people, but once you've earned it, you have a friend for life.

With thanks to @nnobodoodles, @belphegor1982, @picklebrinedgoblinmind, @nooneleavesforgood, and @tinydooms for letting me share some of these before and sharing some of their own ideas with me for brainstorming! ❤