#but i don't know for how long i can stay

[mynameisbillandimaheadcase]

.

[critter-wizard]

ep 43 had me tearing up in a fucking shopping centre ‼️‼️

b+w alt version that I truly couldn't decide if I liked it more . Also I included a lot of thoughts in the tags but they're somewhat incoherent<3

[introspectivememories]

god i know i said i was tired of making eveerything sad but just imagine timber those first few months of reconnecting and they're both drunk on tim's boat, laying on the deck staring up at the stars and bear turns over to look at tim, his eyes are sad and wet, and he reaches out to touch tim's face as if to make sure tim is really there and not an illusion and tim whispers, "bear?" and bernard smiles a little brokenly and goes, "so how long do i have you for this time?"

[fineapplequeen]

Brrrainrot

[randomnameless]

Why do we still have in 2024 stupid takes like Rhea created and enforces the crest system?

Bcs Rhea BaD anon.

More seriously,

FE Fodlan is one of one of the most divorced FE verses from its fantasy elements (see : Nabateans being as important as Ignatz's leather shoes) : Tellius has the Laguz existing, Archanea/Ylisse has manaketes hanging around and being a core point in FE Archanea, Elibe has its entire history involving dragons and the best ending finally be about acceptance between the two races, Magvel has zombies, Valentia has terrors and in SoV we have dragons and magic dragon blood, Fates has dragons (and laguz-like!) and even Jugdral have people with magic dragon blood.

(i ranted and ranted and ranted under the cut, so it's a bit long)

Unlike Fodlan, Jugdral's "people with magic dragon blood" are a key element to the story told at large, and it bleeds through the mechanics used to tell that story. FE4 wise, toddler!Seliph has a S rank in swords when Beowulf, even if he trains his entire life, will never achieve A rank in swords. Base!Julia with her holy weapon can smack Loptyr, when max!invested (at least lore wise) Forseti!Ced will never be able to kill him.

It's unfair for Beo and Ced, but that is how the verse works because, in that verse, some people are mc guffins or "the only ones" who are able to do something, or even, straight out, stronger/have more talent than others.

In traditional fantasy settings we have the "same" sort of rules, you have elves who do X and Y, humans won't can't, dwarves who can't either but they can do W, orc who can do J, etc etc.

Even for all of the "deconstruction of the genre!" gimmick ASOIAF has, according to some people, Dany is fire-proof and Jon most likely survives after being assassinated because he is a Stark and can use his doggo as a back up save, both things Edmure Tully will never be able to achieve.

Tolkien has Numenoreans being straight up blessed by the Valar/stronger/longer lived/etc etc than middle-earth humans, on top of also having elves, dwarves and ents.

Ergo : power inbalance is baked in the fantasy genre.

And yet, the writers often manage to tell some version of "the ones who have less power are no less important", like with Tolkien, it's a bunch of hobbits who manage to take down the greatest "evil" of their era, or some message like "having more power/being more important means you are bound to help the ones who have none" thingie.

In Fodlan, the "beings who have more power" than humans are the Nabateans (+ Sothis herself!). Sothis can create life, her daughter - through unknown means - can create artifical beings, one her children can control weather (the one who was turned in a milkshake for Charon!), one of them has monstruous strength (the one turned in a milkshake for Blaiddyd), one of them could communicate with animals (Timotheos iirc - if we assume he was a Nabatean or got his powers from his crest), her granddaughter can set up an AOE to heal what would otherwise be fatal wounds (it's heavily implied this is what Flayn did when she overused her power and went comatose) etc etc.

This is the original power inbalance in Fodlan.

Then some humans "stole" this power from Nabateans, and got a share of it themselves, which is what is later called "crest" : aka, some humans got a part of the super/magic powers that Nabateans originally had and thus, because, for all intents and purposes, "super-humans".

Now, Fodlan discourse started with FE16 being released in 2019, not that long after GoT's ending - which was trash - and in an era where fandom turned from "harmless fun" to "something that looks like activism and earns you point if you manage to use it to express your real life opinions".

In 2019, after Dumb and Dumber tanked GoT and removed most of ASOIAF fantasy parts to deliver "sex that sells" with a moldy plot, some part of the fandom started to conflate and harass people over what they like, and how it, apparently, reflected on their real life opinions ("if you hate this female character it means you hate women!"/"if you think X becoming king is a good ending, you don't value democracy!").

So, we have this fantasy setting with its inherent power inbalance... that quickly became something that is/was unacceptable, because IRL, power inbalance is based on bullshit and something everyone decries - so if your beloved media reflects on what you like IRL, you can't like a setting with an objective power inbalance, even if is justified by magic which doesn't exist irl like shooting eyebeams or some people being more "special than others" who can live up to 1500 years old.

Fodlan's power inbalance, for some parts of the fandom 2019, cannot be justified by traditional fantasy settings so, those settings/fantasy elements are straight out ignored.

Thus the "crests"' magic effects/powers are ignored, and dumbed down to, roughly, what a middle school student would think "nobility" is/was in the Middle Ages/Renaissance.

Jean-François Marie Pierre de Bourbon isn't inherently better at smashing things with a sword than Bob, or at healing than Roger, any "advantage" Jean-François Marie Pierre de Bourbon has over them is, maybe, that he started training earlier.

In Fodlan?

If Jean-François Marie Pierre de Charon has a major Charon crest, he can dance and clap in his hands to summon rain. Bob and Roger, no matter how hard they train, will never be able to do that. Jean-François Marie Pierre de Charon will thus be seen as having higher "value" or being straight up "better" than Bob or Roger, because as long as he is here, your crops will never suffer from drought.

But... we can't have that, because if you confuse fandom and real life opinions and aspirations, you cannot admit that some people in Fodlan are inherently "better" at something, only because of their blood, otherwise, what would it translate to IRL?

This is why, imo, part of the fandom (and the game sure doesn't help! Fodlan is no Jugdral and its gameplay lacks coherence regarding the in-game lore! Remember how Raphael can use a relic and only loses 10HP, when Miklan, plot wise, was turned in a demonic beast?) that loves this take, arguably, reduces crests to a title and family name.

Why should the Bourbon family rule over us, when they're no better than Roger or Bob? Isn't it unfair the Bourbons are still valued nowadays when the only thing to their fame is their name, and not what they are actually doing?

The game plays coy about crests - we know each of them has a specific power - but it never reveals what are those powers (lore wise!) save for 2 of them. So are crests superpowers, or just a family name with a particle, or both? Is the "system" (a friend made a post debunking any idea of "systemic" application of this notion in the three countries) based on bullshit, or on, objective superpowers?

Dimitri tries to tackle the issue, but only around relic usage : the Gautiers are valued if they have a crest because they can use their superweapon to protect the border. But what about valuing House Charon's ability to bring rain and guarantee good harvests? What is the other superpower tied to the crest of Gautier that isn't "use a femur and wreck havoc with it"?

If Marianne's ability to talk to animals is tied to her crest, why isn't it more developed? Instead of having useless shit like talking and befriending horses like a Disney princess, we could have Maurice-blooded people be masters of counter-intelligence, imagine if they can talk to birds/rodents and ask them to scout various areas or spy/ask them what they saw ! Hell, we could have had a situation where in a fog of war map, where Marianne, if, idk, through Billy fed enough animals in the monastery, would have a better field of vision than anyone else, with some blurb/one-line about her relying on the animals around to know and see what is going on! Alas, it wasn't meant to be.

FE16 eludes the question, because the character who "questions" a world centered around "crests" is the marketable asset of the game, and cannot be challenged in any meaningful capacity v- she feels it's unfair that her crest seemingly dictate her life, and only in the gacha game with ery serious writing like the Heavy Plate Corps or Sniddies, does she get a modicum of self-reflection - or at least someone challenging her - where she is told that she could use the superpowers she has to help people instead of blaming the world for getting one.

In a traditional FE setting, where some Lords question why they were born with power/or are in powerful positions, the answer is always that no matter what they were born with (or without in Leif's case!) what is more important is what they decide to do with that power. Elincia never wanted to become Queen? She will still fight and protect Crimea and its people. Marth is the last hope of Altea, even if it means leaving Elice behind. Seliph doesn't want to fight in Thracia anymore or feels like he's a fraud? He can turn tail and return home, while the world around him falls apart. Leif also feels like a fraud because he doesn't have superpowers like his cousin? Does that mean he should turn his thumbs and watch as his people are being caught/enslaved/sacrificed?

In Fodlan you have no reflection like this : Linhardt is, imo, the best example.

Dude hates blood and has a crest (aka magic powers) geared towards healing, you could make a case that for someone who has hematophobia, being a healer is difficult and this would be the reason why he refuses to heal/use his powers to help people around him... but no. Lin's laziness is played for laughs, and his refusal to do anything not related to his topic of interest is never questioned/analysed under the angle of, say, a head nurse who has no crest and laments that she couldn't save everyone who was hurt during an assault, who snaps at him for having the "gift" he has and not using it for the sake of people around him.

"What Lin decides to do with his power?" : Well, nothing.

Instead we have a reflection on his bright mind going to waste if he lazes all day long, culminating in his Supreme support where an Imperial facility is created specifically to cater to his tastes, that will enable him to research crests as much as he wants...

But still, nothing about his innate "healing" power!

In the end, it's no surprise that part of the fandom latched on that "crest = nobility title" because the Fodlan verse refuses to develop anything about its fantasy elements (hell, iirc Nopes swaps "crests" for "blood" and "titles" in its Supreme route ?).

"Sure, but where does Rhea fit in this nonsense?"

Rhea is, in this vision, the ultimate target !

For all of the "I ignore fantasy elements", Rhea is always (in FE16 at least!) turning into a dragon : no matter how hard you want to ignore fantasy, she's here to remind you tht, in this verse, dragons exist.

But most importantly, as Fodlan must be analysed through an IRL lens otherwise modern fandom cannot engage with it, Rhea, by virtue of being the lady in charge of a religious organisation called "Church", is also seen through a lens : Rhea BaD bcs Religion BaD and Catholic Church BaD.

FWIW, thanks to the five years of discourse we had, I learnt more about cultural values and differences existings between, here and the rest of the world - especially a place that is overepresented on fandom spaces - on organised religions especially the catholic church. Of course this bled on fandom takes and analysis, which projected some users' irl bias against the Catholic Church on the fandom organisation and entity that is the Church of Seiros. Combine this with secularism being now weaponised and used to ridicule people in spaces like r/atheism and you have a perfect recipe for "Religion BaD = Catholic Church BaD = fictional organised religion with a catholic flair BaD".

Granted, given how a certain loLcalisation team also originates from this place, it's no surprise that some "creative liberties" they took tried to hammer even more, let it be in the script or the fucking "what is this game about?" page on their website, how this fictional organisation is basically a squenix trope of "evil cult manipulating everything in the shadows and sekritly controlling the world".

Besides, the main heroine of the game (even if that comes with a twist!) opposes this faction (CoS and especially its leader!) and, by the way those games are built, as seen earlier, they cannot disavow her too much, else the entire gut-punch the devs were gunning for (you are betrayed by your beloved character! But unlike what happens in Baten Kaitos, you only are attached to her because she is your avatar's simp) will fall apart. So she must be, somehow, right and not motivated by more personal and heinous reasons, like not accepting "non-humans" to have powers over humans, or thinking the world is not a place for them (this was carefully scrubbed out in Nopes, btw!).

If Supreme Leader, who we are supposed to root for and whom the game ultimately rewards because "reforms" happen in the endings, says that the CoS is the reason why humans value superpowers, she must be right, or at least, not completely wrong???

Which raises the final point on this topic : FE16 came in 2019, which was election year in the US, and we all know that election time in the US means the rest of the world is also affected, even if the rest of the world, well, isn't the US. As I mentionned, the US is over-represented in fandom spaces, and fandom is far from being a safehaven from all the mayhem and passion that always boil during election time and its immediate following.

Coupled with the "my fandom faves define my real life opinions" thingie I already wrote about, and we had an explosive cocktail for bad takes, needless aggressivity, ridiculing people with dissident opinions because they are seen as "wrong", etc etc. And let it be something trendy or not, especially when (young?) people are arguing about "politics" in online spaces, but it always boils down to gross simplification of various complex issues and/or using catchphrases or "shock-value" words to win over whoever is reading/listening.

(et je ne dis pas ça parce que certains de nos politiques font des "immigrés clandestins ou pas" la source de tous les maux, ou le fait que nos députés font la même chose en ce moment, Jonluk et Marine main dans la main, pour paralyser l'Etat afin de pousser Manu à la démission et éviter la case prison pour Marine)

I always thought the "CEO of racism" was a meme, but through Fodlan discourse, I started to wonder if it was something started seriously by someone who really thought that "racism" is caused by one person.

And we finally get to the point : somehow, somewhat, Rhea is supposed to be responsible for people/humans valuing superpowers.

Forget that the same "quest to obtain those superpowers" led to the extermination of her kin, or how the devs themselves explained that people - at least in their setting - always want more power :

As a result, what would happen to humans who gained power... they would want even more power, and find a dragon much stronger to beat in order to collect materials forcefully, in order to make even more powerful weapons... and so that was the cycle that was born. And that was the birth of Fodlan's Ten Elites

Wait, kill that, those superpowers don't exist since the game and the characters (bar Catherine, but I agree with @9thwither here, Cat is one of the most overlooked characters in this fandom!) never talk about them, so they don't exist...

Rhea is thus the reason why people value bloodlines - especially since those bloodlines don't come out with superpowers.

It sounds better and closer to what you could "hear" irl, from someone who's discoursing on the internet to explain "why" some people are more valued than other, it's because of religion and the Pope! It cannot be because of, well, human greed or just the need to have more power (for good or wrong reasons), no.

"But random, the Church most likely promotes a "divine right to rule" doctrine and let the 10 Elites' families rule over their clans in Faerghus thus gain nobility!"

Sure, but everything is moot if you consider this : to make this take viable, we ignore the game and consider that crests are just bloodlines, and not, objective sources of superpowers.

So why are we, discussing about this hypothesis/theory, even arguing about what the game says and/or does?

Bob Blaiddyd can kill a giant lion/wolf with his fists at base level, is it because of a supposed doctrine that people rally and want to be in Bob's graces, or because Bob has the power to protect them all? Karen Charon can summon rain, are people siding with her because Rhea told them to, or because Karen can make crops grow?

In conclusion : why people are still, in 2024, sprouting those takes?

1- Because they refuse to engage with the game and realise that it is a fantasy game belonging to a very specific genre

2- Because fandom opinions reflect on your real life opinions and likes : so they must find a reason to oppose what their perceive as an unacceptable power inbalance otherwise it means that they support the various inequalities that exist IRL

3- Because Religion BaD and bar the "projected takes from transposing feelings about an IRL church on a fantasy one" more and more people tend to prefer an "easy to proceed" solution than think about multi-causal issues and find solutions that might not.

Of course, I can already guess that some people might argue that they don't "refuse to engage with the game" since this take is more a less a condensed version of the Supreme spiel, and as developed above, the game does - willingly - a shit job at demonstrating that her spiel is nonsense (they had to add the "greed" part in an interview released after the game and its only and final DLC!), just like her sockpuppet who supposedly learns how misguided he was in certain routes... only to end with the same ice cream, albeit with a different topping.

However, Dimitri and Sylvain mention how crestless children are disowned in Faerghus... when Dimitri's own uncle is ruling over a domain himself, Ingrid's brothers exist in the background and Gustave is still Baron Dominic's brother, on top of having been the royal master at arms for at least, depending on the route, 3 generations of Faerghan kings.

In a game where Dorothea can blame the Goddess for fighting in a war her bestie started - without anyone pointing this out - it's obvious this verse has unreliable narrators, but after 5 years and having played all routes in both games + a DLC + a dev interview explaining how and why some humans acquired crests...

Tl;Dr :

Reason 1- is most likely the most prevalent why this take exists anon, "because some people refuse to engage with the game" with the added topping of "save for what Supreme Leader and her sockpuppet say that I can use to demonise the characters I don't like".

[ancha-aus]

RealAgeAU Drabble - Artist Woes

Hello everyone! I am back with my BS as always and more baby nightmare shenenigans! @spotaus Hope you ready :D

First Drabble Prev Drabble Next Drabble

Ink is a very interesting Pov to write! It was fun! And as always. No beta or anything :D We here to have fun!

*---------------------*

Ink hums a happy song as he slowly sketches out the shape of a very familiar skull. He had beent rying to stay distracted after everything he learned.

He thinks he is doing an okay-ish job! Even if Error calls him an idiot for trying to escape his own new feelings.

Ink just... thinks! He should first get used to his kinda there feelings... and then on his god position! Before he... thinks about some specific feelings.

Ink groans as he grabs his phone and searches the past text messages.

Finding the right conversation quickly.

Hey Ink! Want to hang out with Dream and me? Let me know!

And then the line that Ink blocked his contact.

Ink groans as he just lays on the floor. He is a mess. Why is this so hard? It was never hard to hang out wiht Blue before. It was just nice and easy and it was fun! Now it just feels... different. it feels more important.

Not to forget his stupid feelings now actually work so he realises just how terrified he feels about being an idiot in front of Blue.

Again.

Fuck Blue has seen him do so much stupid shit. How does he deal with that?!

His phone buzzes and he picks it up with a smile before his smile falls. It is a message from Dream.

Of course it isn't a message from Blue. Blue can't send him messages because Ink blocked him!

Which... Blue knows... Ink is sure that Blue hates him or is sad or hurt because of Ink's stupid behaviour and-

HIs phone starts to ring.

Ink almost drops it before picking up "Hey Dream! I was jsut about to answer your text!"

Dream hfufs "Right." he does not sound convinced "Look. I need your help with a situation. Can you come meet us?"

Ink feels his being start to shake slighty. Us. Dream says us. Which means Blue is there!

He hadn't seen Blue since the Gyftmas party. Ink had gotten callen away for more god lessons and he hadn't even had the chance to see if Blue liked the bandana he got him.

And now Ink doens't feel sure enough to ask if Blue likes it. Waht if Blue likes it? What if he doesn't!? What if he likes the bandana but if he hears Ink got it for him he won't like it anymore!?

"Ink?" Dream sounds impatient.

Ink jumps up and rushes to grab his broom "Yeah! Sure! On my way! You send the location?" he has his broom and is already ready to cast the right magic to teleport to another location before remembering he still needs the location.

Dream is silent for a moment before answerign "You feeling okay? We can delay this a few days if you need time to rest-"

"No no no!! I am okay!" Ink rushes to stop Dream. No he needs this! He cna finally hang out wiht Blue again and because Dream is there it will be normal and not at all weird and Ink can maybe try to get an idea of how Blue feels about him and! He needs this! "You send me the location and stuff?"

Dream is quiet for a moment and Ink hears him talk with someone else before Dream answers "I send you it in a text. see you in a bit." and he hangs up.

Ink smiles as he jumps in place as he finds the location. Okay. Okay! He can do this! He can be totally normal! He will have anice hang out and then Blue will think he is cool and maybe Ink can brush off the blocking as an accident thing and everything will be fine!

He uses his broom and melts into a puddle of ink.

It feels like swimming to use his teleporting and he quickly gets to the right location. He jumps out and smiles.

Dream shoots him a grin before shooting the skeleton next to him a smug look. Blue rolls his eye lights at Dream before girnning at Ink himself "Hey Ink."

Ink is frozen. he is wearing the bandana. it looks so good on him but can he just say that? would it be weird for Ink to notice? Ink knows his memory isnt the best. would it seem obsessive if Ink noticed a difference?

Blue's grin falls as he looks worried and to the side. Oh shit he is quiet for too long isn't he?!

Ink rushes over "Hey Blue! Hey dream. It has been a while! I got busy and stuff. God stuff is weird! Hah! I mean Dream knows as well so i don't doubt you know it as well! I mena you two always hang out and stuff so of course you know. Not that that is wrong! I mean you two are best friends! It is normal!"

Oh please shut up shut up why is he still talking?!

Dream and Blue share a look. Blue frowns "Ink? Are you sure you are okay? You are acting weird..."

A snort "Seems normal to me."

Ink looks over and sees Error. Error just looks highly amused from where he is leaning agaisnt the tree. knowing look in his eye sockets.

Oh no. No no no no! Error knows about how Ink feels about Blue!! Well. Kinda feels. His whole soulless situation and feeling through paint together with ascending to godhood got weird and Ink doesn't even fully understand how it works but that is beside the point! Error was just there when Ink figured out he liked Blue a whole lot more than is normal and that is why Error knows! And Ink does not trust him with that knowledge to not make a fool out of Ink to Blue!

Well. Not that Error needs to do anything to make a fool out of Ink. Ink manages that just fine himself apparently.

Blue is frowning at Error "Error that isn't nice. He could be sick."

Error snorts nad mutters "love sick alright." and Ink prays no one heard him.

Blue doesn't react to what error said so maybe ink is lucky! And oh shit Blue is close and checking his temperature! What does he DO?!

Blue frowns "I think he is fine... You sure you feel up for this Ink?"

Ink nods "Yes! of course! Always ready to help you... two!" Ink looks between Blue and Dream before he laughs softly as he rubs his neck "What are we doing?"

Dream sighs "you seriously didn't read my texts?"

Ink slowly takes his phone out and notices that Dream send a long explanation about something to him. something about ink having to meet someone and having to help them with letting this mystery person meet the other gods.

Ink looks up and Dream sighs before nodding "okay fine. I found my brother."

Ink blinks. Something about nightmare? There hadn't been issues wiht nightmare right? Ink can't remember anything being off about him at least...

Dream looks very disapointed and hurt "Did you seriously forget my brother went missing?!"

Ink flinches. right. that. he rubs his arm "sorry..." he is a terrible friend. he had been so busy with god things... right... blue and drema ahd been working on searching for Nightmare and... and ink was too busy to help and after a while he jsut forgot aparently!

Dream sighs and Blue joins his side to support him. It stings a little.

Blue smiles "but everything is fine! We found nightmare and we are working on introducing him to many people to make sure Fate and Balance don't mess with his domain!"

Ink gives a slow nod. he knows he should know more about those two and why it is important but he can't remember at the moment. Ink hopes he will eventually remember "so... we want a truce?" maybe that is it? a truce between Ink and Nightmare?

Not the hnag out Ink wanted but he will take it at this point. He just wishes he never blocked Blue. How is he even suposed to fix that?! He doens't know!

Dream laughs and rubs his neck "I guess you can call ti a truce. Not that it matters with both Nighty and I having switched domains so we aren't even against each other in any way!" He smiles brightly.

Ink feels even worse. Fuck. He forgot. Dream switched domains! That was a whole thing. Also a thing he hadn't helped with. come on. He knows this. He knows which domain it is. something... soemthing about moving on? healing through moving on?

Dream's smile slwoly falls and Ink can hear Blue sigh. Ink holds up his hands "No! No wait! I know this!" he knwos this! come on. He knows this he knows this he knows this! "it... it... it is about... like.. moving on? healing? kinda like determination and keep going?" right? He looks at Dream desperately.

Dream blinks but laughs and nods "honestly? Very close! it is Progression but those things got to do with it."

Blue grins proudly at him "You are remembering things!"

Ink gives aslow nod "kinda..." ish. Not that much. Though he does keep remembering how pretty Blue looks with his new bandana. The neutral grey but silver and blue highlights are so pretty on him.

Error groans "Are we done yet? We got a schedule to keep here." he huffs and crosses his arms.

Dream focusses too "We are. Ink?"

Ink nods and grins "Lets make a truce!"

A voice "Finally! This was getting boring" and Killer jumps down from the tree branches.

Ink has his broom ready but Blue rushes to his side and pushes his arms down "No! No fighting! we cool!" Ink froze but not because Blue stopped him or what he said. but because Blue is holding his hand! wlel more like just pushing his hands down but it counts! Ink is totally counting it as them holding hands!

Killer grins at them "Anyway. Meet. Boss! Or well... tiny boss" and he grins. As he waves to the side and Cross jsut appears out of thin air with a child in his arms.

Ink frowns and stares before looking at Killer "I know my memory is bad.. but wasn't nightmare like... adult and gooped?" he looks at Blue to double check.

Blue smiles at him and nudges their shoulders togther "true! But Nightmare got deaged when he finished his job as god connected to balance. He went back to how he was before getting that job." and he nods over to Cross who is holding the tiny skeleton.

Ink blinks and stares at Nightmare.Nightmare just looks back at him.

Ink is hit with a dejavu and snorts "Oh yeah i can see it now. got the exact same 'you are an idiot' look as his older version." and he leans against broomie.

Blue laughs from beside him and Ink puffs his chest up a tiny bit. He got this. he got this!

Nightmare huffs and pouts as he leans clsoer to cross "Well he is an idiot."

Cross purrs as he nuzzles the skull "You are 100% right."

Ink looks ar Dream and Blue "So... what now?"

Dream smiles "We need to meet the other gods. but the more gods on our side the better." Dream sighs "Especially meeting the other gods..."

Ink frowns as he tilts his skull "Why?"

Reaper is floating nearby as he speaks and hey when did Reaper get here? "Because of Fate and Balance. We don't think they will like Nightmare not falling into either of their domains anymore."

Ink frowns and he finally remembers! "Right! They were real mad when you picked your domain right Dream?"

Dream grins "Yup! They tried to make me switch but they couldn't because everyone knew my job by then. We are trying to get Nightmare the same setup."

Ink rubs his broom as he speaks "what... euh... is the domain anyway?" they hadn't mentioned that right? he checks with blue but blue just smiles at him. So they probably didn't tell yet!

Blue looks at the gang and it is Killer who answers "Nightmare is a god of Restoration!" he nuzzles Nightmare and nightmare just looks grumpy but doens't turn away from the attention.

Ink frowns as he thinks "So... we are going to meet the other gods now?"

Blue nods as he smiles at him "That is the plan! Can you come with as extra support?"

Ink nods "sure!" He would follow Blue anywhere.

Blue smiles back.

Maybe this isn't a complete mess up just yet.

*---------------------*

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[mel-loly]

-POV: You had to change your bio and put only the pronoun “he/him” because you don’t like people calling you “she/her” all the time.

No, but being very honest now, I honestly don't like people always taking me to the "feminine" side, like, I know I look very feminine but that doesn't mean people have to always refer to myself with the pronoun "she/her".. I can draw myself with breasts, eyelashes and whatever you consider "feminine", but it doesn't mean anything that I like you always referring to me with that pronoun! And people also often get Mel Creator's pronoun wrong, like, in my situation I understand, but in his... The description itself says that he only refers to himself with the pronoun "he/him", so.. It's kinda difficult, you know..?

-Melissa, designer.

[secret-hero-1010]

If you get an ask from Tumblr user @06679799 saying they need financial support to help their family escape Gaza,

DO NOT CLICK THE LINK

It's a scam.

The blog claims to be Yousef Hussein and says they need financial help to get their family out of Gaza, however, the real Yousef is a humanitarian who lives in Illinois and is trying to help people in Gaza.

The link they provide in their blog's description does not go to the GoFundMe page, it's not even a correctly formatted link. The link they provide is gofund.me -- this is fake. This is a scam link.

They're sending this ask to anyone and everyone.

DO NOT CLICK THE LINK.

If you want to help the family and help evacuate young Kareem & Carmen from Gaza, the real page is https://www.gofundme.com/f/YousefHussein?qid=4940ab33f07c65ad6f42e6748aabb646

Or you can look up the fundraiser through GoFundMe.

[its-a-beautful-day]

Wednesday - Antonio the Anteater

Hmmm these ants are suspiciouly cranberry flavored 🤔🐜

[brick-van-dyke]

So, I've been doing some thinking. This could either be a meaningless little ramble that no one will care about, or something seen as really dangerous and putting a target on my back.

So, what if we, those most weary of the far right created an international group of activists in light of the US election? See, the thing is that Donald Trump and Elon Musk are very dangerous, but they are also very incompetent and could lead the government down a path that weakens it. It could create a very unique opportunity to address the far right problem and the US Imperialist system itself in one go. Or maybe I'm being overly ambitious.

This group I have in mind would have several purposes, such as keeping communities safe and protecting people from the harm the far right would do in the name of winning the election. Or, most importantly of all, connecting activists from all over the world and allowing us to dismantle the system as a concrete and united movement. Maybe it's just me being naive and hopeful, but maybe it's also something we've all wanted deep down but been too afraid to initialise? If so, maybe this is a sign to really stand up and start trying to make those connections.

[butwhatifidothis]

You know, I find it so interesting that you say that Raxy. Not just because the post you pulled this from was in fact talking about people saying this about Flayn, but specifically because of the date of your tweets here.

July 12? You mean a day after I posted more of Shandale's disgusting shit they've said?

Which includes this

And further digging shows these aren't the only times they've said this either!

Did you mean to say that you aren't talking about Flayn, Raxy boy? Because trust me, this mod of the biggest Edelgard discord certainly is, and has made that a very clear thing for quite a while now. Something you would have to know, given that you would've had to scroll past this post in order to get to the one your screencapping.

Wonder why you left that out, in your tweety tweet tweet tweeter post? Is it because you recognize that trying to make Flayn out to be this evil boogeyman would get you either laughed out or tossed out the room and make you look stupid and/or insane? And so you just conveniently look over your buddy doing that thing you say never happens?

You know Raxy boy, the effort it takes for you to go around my block of you and lie about me and what's been going on in your circle of the fandom would be far better spent trying to talk to this shit stain stinking up the discord you're in into cleaning their act up some so this wouldn't keep happening. After all, you did that for ol' Dolphin! You were super willing to cut her out cuz of what she'd been doing! Why won't you do the same here? That's mighty strange, wouldn't ya say?

[aro-in-danyl]

Alastor as a "Gift from God" AU part 2

I'll have you know it is very difficult to write from the POV of God so you get Roo instead. I had to look up bible verses for this.

PART 1 here.

-------------------

On the day of the first extermination cleanse.

When the first sinner was slain, Roo felt the soul attempt to rise. A fruitless endeavor, for their sinful deeds in life and in death ensured her roots bound the severed pieces of the soul to her.

Foolish angels, in culling the herd and stifling even the thought of rebellion, they only made her stronger. Roo tightened her vines around the soul and attempted to drag it down, down through the 7 rings, and to her.

Attempted, because before she even got past the Pride Ring, a stronger force yanked the soul upwards. Enraged and in disbelief she tightened her hold around the other souls being slaughtered by the dozens, but each and every time they were ripped from her grasp.

At the end of the day, when the exorcists were flying up and away from the slaughter, the portal to Heaven opened and Roo latched onto the connection and demanded an explanation.

"Have you gone back on your word?" her tone was taunting but her desperation and anger festered, "These souls are mine. Their punishment is meant to be eternal!"

Roo did not expect a response, God had not spoken to her since The Beginning, and God had no foothold in hell - usually. Today, apparently, was an exception.

God spoke to her, "My creations all return unto me in The End regardless. You know I cannot bare to be separated forever."

Roo did not buy this, "What ever happened to 'Depart from me, you who are cursed' was that not written?"

"Said by a King, not I." God refuted.

"But within your holy text." Roo sniped, "You reward their sin, their rejection of you, by accepting them back with open arms?"

"If you think that is what will happen to those who reject me twice, you know me not at all." And perversely, Roo felt relieved at this admission. "The righteous will have eternal life, the sinful - upon second death - nothing."

"And keeping them from me was merely a happy coincidence?" Roo felt emboldened, God must see her as a bigger threat than she thought, "To twist the meaning of your eternal punishment to exclude me, why I'd almost call that a quality worthy of a demon."

The portal, which had only been open seconds, pulsed with the force of God's anger.

Roo laughed. "You fear me enough to risk your angels falling into my grasp once again. Do you think this latest stunt of yours will keep me weak forever?"

"My angels have learned to evade you since then."

"Careful there." Roo feigned concern, "Anymore hubris and I'll have to save you a seat in Pride. I could put you next to your favorite child, wouldn't that be nice?"

God ignored the taunt, "I know your roots grow stronger on Earth. More fall to you everyday. Faster than even my best angels can catch them."

Roo smiled at the admission. To have her work acknowledged by the being who created everything, everything that would someday be corrupted and belong wholly to her.

God continued, "It is a testament to your strength that The End may be sooner than I thought."

Roo stopped cold. Her strength came from corrupting the creations of God, but if there was nothing to corrupt...

Ah. She thought. Nothing truly is an eternal punishment.

"Unless," God hedged. "We come to an arrangement?"

Suddenly the reason for God's desire to converse with her made sense. Here she was, weakened from the loss of over a hundred damned souls, from an event that would become a yearly occurrence. Here God was, with the threat of The End poised upon their fingertips, attempting to force her compliance.

And it was working.

But God had shown their hand too early, "How utterly demonic of you! You want to compromise with me? To reason with me?" She used her roots to trip a flailing exorcist trying to remove its spear from a corpse just because, "What can you offer me?"

"I will not hasten The End before its time." God stated, as if the threat of nothing was enough now that she knew God wanted something from her that they could not get themselves.

"You do not want to destroy everything you've created; you want it even less than I do. What is it you desire?"

The last few exorcists were getting ready to return via the portal, their clothes splatted in shade of red and an abundance of gore. They had yet to develop a tolerance to the violence they were perpetuating. Roo knew, just as God did, that many of the angels after slaughtering their first few sinners, had ripped their helmet off and vomited in disgust and despair.

Roo could feel their shock, their inner turmoil, their sense of righteousness, their loyalty to heaven. With time, and more exterminations cleanses, they would learn to enjoy the bloodshed. Or they would break. Such was the way of war.

"I wish to create a gift for Lucifer," God began, "A gift that will challenge him, embolden him, and remain by his side."

Lucifer! Why did it always come back to him? Around them, the corpses of the damned littered her domain never to rise again, God's angels grappled with the weight of their heavenly duty, and her influence weakened for the first time in decades. And yet it was Lucifer that made God lower themselves to speak with her!

Roo reigned in her rage, "And what does that have to do with me?"

"I am creating something unlike anything I've ever created before." God directed her attention back to the weak angel who'd finally pulled their spear from a corpse, "Immune to angelic destruction. Stronger than a thousand sinners, with the potential to stand against my Archangels, capable of vengeance and retribution."

Roo salivated. "And you're sending it here." Roo let the last of the shattered souls in her grasp go, not even paying attention as it shot upwards and away. "You'd create such a thing and put in my hands the instrument of your demise?"

"Which is why I appear before you. You know sin more intimately than I. So I implore you to cast off a piece of yourself for this gift and I shall do the same."

"And what is this gift?" The exorcist was attempting to clean the gore from the spear and failing. "And why should I give you anymore of myself when you've already taken so much?"

"A human soul."

"You intend to create a soul destined to hell before its first sin and gift it to the being who prizes free will above all else. Do you imagine he will thank you?" Roo didn't care about Lucifer's feelings regarding this gift, she couldn't wait to see the fallout actually, but she couldn't help but point out the obvious.

"No," God said, "he will not. As for you, this soul will bring a new age upon your realm. They will be The Avenger of the worthy. And a nightmare to everyone else."

"Do not repay anyone evil for evil," Roo quoted. "Is that why you need me? You want to avoid going against your own words, so you seek to blame me instead."

She did not give God time to respond, "But you still haven't told me what I gain. What do I care for this promised 'new age' or so-called Avenger when I am still trapped?"

"And that is my bargain," God attempted to comfort one of the angels weeping over a small sinner's corpse but their touch fell short. Seems they did not have power over anything in her realm but exorcised souls, she mused.

"With a piece of us both, this soul will have a direct link to us in a way no fully mortal being has before."

Roo would've gasped if she was capable of breathing, "Speak plainly!"

"They could free you."

"What's the catch? Why would you give them this power?" She could hardly believe it. It was too good to be true.

"You have the chance to be free. But you must convince this soul to do so of their own free will, knowing fully the consequences of your freedom." Roo dismissed this, she was The Root of Sin for a reason, and this soul was destined for her realm anyway.

"You are forbidden from interfering with their life before hell. And you must find this soul yourself once they fall."

A minor setback, but the call of freedom was strong. Still, she was not so blinded by this opportunity that she wouldn't ask, "And what, do you, The Almighty God, gain from this bargain?"

"A hellborn will become your greatest adversary, they will attempt to redeem sinners and remove them from your grasp." The portal to Heaven began to close.

"And should they succeed, your chance to convince The Avenger will begin to close. And you will never know freedom."

"A time limit!" She should've known they wouldn't play fair, "How long?"

They turned her attention to the newly built Tower in the center of the Pentagram. The timer below flipped through the numbers at record speed until it hit 365. "Seven full moons after the clock strikes zero for the last time. Do we have an agreement?"

God's voice was strong as ever, but the portal was now only the size of a quarter. Roo knew manipulation and this reeked of it, how clever of God to wait until the last moment to share all the details when she had so little time to think of it.

"When in hell, you use the proper term." Roo pretended to scold them. She reached out to the fading tendrils of God and sunk her thorns in as deep into the connection as she could.

"We have a deal."

[juniperleafdelivery]

[yourgamemasterthewhiterabbit]

Both my parents actually suffer from HORRID emotional dysregulation and are prone to snapping and going into rages. My sister is the same way tbh. I am now realizing this is why they are constantly baffled by the question of whether or not I am mad at them.

I don't have external meltdowns.

I could. I don't let it happen.

I keep my rage on the inside and stay pretty quiet about it. It's just as strong as theirs [physically shaking nose bleed from high blood pressure kind of bad], but like as a kid I saw how terrifying it was to be around [dad breaking dishes, mom putting our lawn chairs into walls] and I just internalized that I wasn't going to wear that anger on the outside.

So my mother genuinely cannot tell if I am just being quiet or if I am silently hearing the dial-up noises of pure rage. This has lead her to both making strong and confident statements like "You are a pacifist who would never hurt a fly U.U" but also acting like I am secretly dangerous maybe... It's because she has never seen me snap.

She knows what her temper is like [throwing chairs through walls], she knows what my father's temper is like [pick up child and toss out door], and she can tell I am being tested, but she doesn't know what happens when I snap or where that breaking point is.

Her -perhaps unhinged- solution to this, my whole life, has been to do things that should obviously enrage me or shut me down completely, like ignoring important boundaries, repeatedly, punishing me for expressing emotions or needs at all, etc... And then to constantly ask me if I am angry with her when I get too quiet [right after near directly telling me to shut up].

It has occurred to me now, they have never once seen me lose my temper, so they literally just can't tell if I am angry at them. My sister is easy, my mother fights and screams with my sister constantly, my mother understands this. My mother doesn't have any grasp of feelings or boundaries that are not screamed at her [apparently, and I fear my sister is the same way]. Her and my sister are close despite constant fucking fighting because they understand each other.

They are trying to get me to engage the same way and it is not working. I realize now that this has been hard for them.

I was so successfully taught to suppress my emotions, by being punished for any outburst, that rage quiet looks the same as any other kind of quiet from the outside. To them anyway.

I did tell her. For the record. I used my words. I did tell her very calmly that my response to rage, in order to avoid doing the things that terrified me as a child, was to simply leave [the autistic urge to GTFO]. When a situation or person causes too much of the dial-up rage noise, I simply extract myself from that situation, up to and including never speaking to a person again. I explained this calmly. I explained it calmly 100 times and I explained that I explain myself calmly as my rage response 1-5 [also pretty much every other negative emotion tbh], and I told her that what came next was me simply opting out and fucking off. I told her this. I couldn't understand why she never took me seriously, or why she never fucking understood.

I couldn't understand what made her like this.

But it's the same problem I have with everyone else multiplied by a factor of 10.

If I am explaining myself calmly, they can't understand that it's actually serious or that I am actually upset. ESPECIALLY because they read me as "female" and women "aren't that rational" so if I am not screaming and crying about something, which I never do, people assume I can't be upset and it isn't serious.

And then after having my boundaries ignored too many times despite having calmly explained how and why it's a problem [shaking inside or not]... I leave. I leave and everyone gets upset like this is unexpected behaviour, even though I told them 50 times that is how I would respond if they kept doing *the thing.*

And for neurotypical people especially, they are expecting there to be a disconnect between what someone says they need or feel and what their actually boundaries and feelings are, and they expect the latter to be demonstrated with emotions. Telling them bluntly you do not function that way somehow never helps?

My mother isn't just looking for normal yelling or a few tears to know I am serious, whether or not I do those either [I don't], she's looking for an explosion to know there's a problem at all.

Fucked if I know how she proceeds through life this way in general or if this is just her expectation of her own kids???

And I couldn't get why my mother couldn't read my emotions and didn't seem to think I have any. It's because she's testing for the rage limit to see where my 'actual' limit is instead of taking my word for it. Never the fuck mind that she could simply *not* test at my boundaries instead of letting me have them. Separate issue.

I couldn't figure out what made her *like this*

She's expecting me to throw a giant meltdown violent tantrum at people when I have 'actually' had enough. Maybe she got away with those being like 5'4" in another time, but I am the size of the average man, I do not get to have giant screaming rages, whether or not people perceive me consciously as a woman, and least of all because a lot of people -at least unconsciously- read me as 'masculine' or at least always "they guy" of the situation compared to all other women and some men [bigger stronger and more rational, more able to just absorb the damage and let it go so the less rational screaming/crying one doesn't have to be dealt with]. Even if it was in me to be willing to terrify people [usually never], there are such limited instances where it wouldn't just blow back on me. Potentially very dangerously.

I am going to be the quiet calm one. You are going to have to let me use my words, bitch.

So she kept ignoring my boundaries until I had to cut her out of my life, and she probably doesn't understand and probably thinks it feels sudden -after 36 long years of bullshit- abrupt and unfair.

But I told her hundreds of times.

I probably should have just screamed at her.

[misericorsalvator]

An Epitaph

Henry didn't know where he was. It was cold, freezing, but that was all he could tell, from the sharp chill that tore through his damp clothes, to the frigid air that felt like icicles in his lungs when he breathed. Even if he was someplace familiar, it would have been impossible to tell through the veil of rime in the air, the thick hoar that coated the ground. But wherever he was, he had to find shelter. soon, before his limbs grew any number that they already were and he lost the three fingers he had left on his right hand to frostbite. It took a good deal of walking, trudging through the snow, before he found something resembling sanctuary. A rocky hovel dug deep into a mountainside he hadn't even noticed was there. The crooked mountaintop loomed far overhead like a wind-swept pine tree, towering over the barren expanse and shielding the small patch of land near the cave's entrance from the worst of the snowfall. It was a narrow fit, the opening more narrow than a coffin, but it opened up into a wide chamber beyond, dark, lit only by the little light reflecting on the snow outside.

Panic stabbed at him suddenly. That chamber felt familiar, though he couldn't recall from where. The rockface of the walls was smooth, man-made, and the stalactites hanging from the domed ceiling above were unnatural, all the same length, jagged and sharpened to fine points. But he had no time to waste on the unnerving interior. The weather outside was getting worse, the wind howling like wolves on a hunt, and soon his shelter would be just as cold and dangerous as the outside. He had to think, find a way to keep the warmth in. Henry returned to the entrance. He twisted around in the narrow space as best he could and began piling up snow with his numb hands, stacking it, pressing it into shape, mouthing breathless curses to himself, until he had built a solid wall halfway up to his neck. It should last. He didn't know for how long, but at least for now, until he could catch his breath. It had to last.

Henry slumped against the wall of the cave. The barrier he had built offered some protection, but he could still feel the cold creeping in, seeping through the gaps and cracks in the snow. A damp chill gnawed at his bones, freezing the air in his lungs. He knew he had to keep moving, to do something, anything, to stay warm and awake. He couldn’t afford to fall asleep. Not here. Not now. But his limbs were leaden and his body creaked in protest with every movement. His teeth chattered as he tried to think, tried to remember where he was and how he had gotten there. The harder he tried, however, the more his thoughts seemed to slip away, like sand through his fingers. Panic clawed at his chest once more as he looked around the cavern. The walls seemed to close in, the smooth stone shimmering with a thin layer of rime frost. The ceiling above with the unnaturally sharp stalactites, loomed over him like a mouth full of fangs. He had to get out.

Henry pushed himself off the wall, his legs shaking beneath him. The snow was piling up faster now, further in through the entrance than the wall he had built, and he frantically began to shovel it away with his hands, trying to clear a path through the narrow gap. He shovelled harder, floundered, grappled til his fingers were too numb to move, but for every tiny hopeful opening he made, more snow took its place, as if the storm outside was determined to bury him alive. The cold was unbearable now, seeping into his very soul. Outside, the wind roared, a feral sound that echoed through the cavern and made the air thick with cold. Each breath now was a knife to the chest, each inhale burning his lungs. The snow crawled closer, blocking the entrance fully, and began to cover the cave floor inch by painful inch, forcing the hunter back step by painful step.

Henry's mind was reeling. He stumbled further into the cave, away from the encroaching cold, the bones of his legs creaking in protest. The deeper he went, the more the walls seemed to close in on him, the smooth rock pressing down, suffocating. The quiet there was unnerving, an oppressive stillness that made him painfully aware of his own laboured breathing and the pounding of his heart. The silence of the grave. For what felt like an hour, he pushed himself forward against the stone walls, cowering under the stalactites which were now low enough to graze the top of his head. No matter how far he went, the snow followed close behind, blocking the way back. Henry's movements grew slower, more sluggish, until he could no longer outrun it, and that white frost began piling up around his boots. He felt the fight leave him, his breathing weakened, his heartbeat slowed.

Then, from the corner of his eye, he saw it—a single snowflake, delicate and perfect, drifting down from the ceiling above. His breath caught in his throat as he watched it fall, impossibly slow, through solid rock. It glowed faintly in the dim light and Henry’s eyes followed its descent, almost hypnotized, until it landed softly on the ground. On something dark, something that wasn’t stone. He crouched down, his stiff knees cracking in protest, and wiped away the snow, his fingers brushing against a cold, unyielding surface.

A hand.

His hand.

His breath caught in his throat. He was looking at himself, at his own lifeless body, crumpled and broken, half-buried in the snow. The wounds were horrific—deep gashes and punctures that were draining the life out of him-- and the realization hit him like a sledgehammer.

This wasn't real.

The snow, the cold, it was all in his head, growing blurry as his brain ran out of oxygen. And the cavern wasn’t just familiar—it was the place he was dying, right now, in the real world. The place where his body was lying, bleeding out into the cold ground, his blood darkening the stone ground.

For a third time, panic surged through him, but it was laced with a deep, bone-weary exhaustion. The wind howled louder, and now Henry could make out voices, battle cries, screeching and yowling in twisted satisfaction. The snow now poured into the cave through the solid ceiling above, burying everything in its path. He wanted to claw his way out, to escape this nightmare, but his limbs wouldn’t respond. The snow was too thick, too heavy, pressing down on him from all sides. As his vision began to blur, the walls of the cave pulsed, breathing with a life of their own, in tandem with his own slowed breaths. The snow continued to fall, endlessly, burying him, until all he could see was white. And then, from the heart of the storm, he saw a figure—a tall, imposing silhouette that moved with unnatural grace, cutting through the blizzard as if it were nothing. Henry tried to focus, but his mind was slipping, the edges of his consciousness fraying like old cloth.

His final thoughts drifted to Bran. A deep guilt welled up inside him. He wouldn’t make it home for Christmas this year. He wouldn’t see his boy’s face light up when he opened his presents, wouldn’t hear his laughter echoing through the house. Regret gnawed at him, leaving a bitter taste in his mouth. In his last moments, as the darkness closed in, Henry barely registered the sharp pain in his chest—a bite, cold and searing, as if winter itself had latched onto his heart, and his eyes froze over with unshed tears until the world faded and he breathed his last.

In a long-forgotten catacomb in Wales, as the last drop of Henry's blood soaked into the humid ground, something ancient stirred. Beneath the layers of earth and stone, within the crypt that had long been forgotten, a pair of eyes snapped open. After centuries of entombment, something awoke. The blood of the dying hunter seeped into its consciousness, filling it with the remnants of Henry's life, his memories, his regrets. And once the blood had ran dry, the ancient knight rose from his tomb, his eyes burning with a cold, unholy fire.

He tore through the killers, the blood-thirsty beasts who had chased their prey to the ancient tomb, splattering the walls with their undead blood that burnt to ash, until none were left. Then, he looked down at the broken body of the hunter who had unwittingly become his saviour. With a grim sense of purpose, the knight knelt beside Henry’s lifeless form. He whispered words in a dialect long dead, a prayer, perhaps, or a vow. Then, with a reverence reserved for fallen comrades, the knight lifted the hunter’s body and carried him deeper into the crypt, where heroes were once laid to rest, where the knight's own tomb stood, broken apart from within. The hunter was gone, his spirit entwined with the ancient knight’s own, but his legacy would live on, honoured by one of the very creatures he had once sought to destroy.

The knight sealed the tomb with a final, solemn gesture, then left the catacombs behind and stepped out into the warm summer night, into a world which had long outlived him.

[captainkirkk]

If Tim goes dark and turns into a villain, Kon might try and talk him out of it, but he knows he'd go with him. And he knows he'd end up having to defend Tim from the people who came after him including Batman, and that's NOT a fight Kon is winning.

So in Kon's mind, Tim turning into a villain = Kon getting his ass beat by Batman