#i get the feeling this didn't post right

[devastatedloyallute]

Chapter 8 of Bigger Than The Whole Sky -A Guitarspear fic

Chapter Sum: Lute and Abel return home after visiting Adam at the Hazbin Hotel. Abel has many questions.

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Lute and Abel had followed Emily back through the portal to Heaven she had created. When they returned home, they waved Emily off as she ran to hopefully not get into trouble with her sister. Heading inside and closing the door, Lute looked down at Abel.

 “Are you going to explain to me how it is that you convinced Emily to make you into a stowaway?” Lute asked, her hand on her hip. 

Abel covered his hands and looked at the floor ashamed, “I had asked her before she left yesterday to come to the daycare to pick me up…and she told the nanny that she was setting up a surprise, and because she’s one of the seraphim no one questioned her.” He rubbed his arm as a way to comfort himself before he looked up at her with pleading eyes, “I’m sorry, mama.”

Lute calmly sighed and knelt in front of him, “You could have gotten hurt. I thought you were safe up here, but you weren’t.” She brushed his hair from his cheeks, “Everything turned out okay, but what if it hadn’t? I don’t know what I’d do with myself if something had happened to you.”

“I’m sorry for making you worry. I just wanted to see dad,” Abel said quietly before he wrapped his arms around her and buried his face against her.

Lute pulled him in before standing and ruffling his hair, “Okay, now how about we make something to eat and then it’s bedtime.”

“Bedtime? But it’s still light out!” Abel whined.

“Yes, but you need some form of punishment for that stunt you pulled, young man,” Lute said sternly. Abel gave her a small pout but nodded.

While they sat at the kitchen table eating their chicken nuggets, Abel had to bring up a few of his itching questions, “Hey mama? I’ve been thinking…If Hell is where bad people go, why did dad end up down there? What did he do that was so bad?”

Lute felt goosebumps begin to cover her body.

“Also what’s an exorcist? Why did Charlie have to rebuild her hotel? What happened to the other one?”

Lute could feel her skin growing paler, and her breathing froze. ‘Shit. I don’t think I can lie my way out of this one…’ 

“Mama? Are you okay?”

Lute swallowed hard, “I- Abel, you aren’t ready to learn about those things. They’re grown up matters. How do you even know about these things in the first place?”

“But I’m not going to be a grown up…Why can’t you just tell me? Dad’s gonna make it home, so just please tell me why he’s down there!” Abel pleaded. “I overheard you talking about it when I was hiding! It’ll be okay. I can handle it, mama.”

Lute’s words got caught in her throat. ‘I can’t tell him. But I can’t keep avoiding these questions…What do I do?’  She took a sip from her drink, her mouth feeling very dry. 

“Finish your dinner, then we can talk about it,” she said coldly, devolving to her stoic nature as a mental defense mechanism.

Abel quickly devoured his nuggets and put his plate into the sink. He patiently waited for Lute to finish hers, swinging his legs from the chair happily.

Lute finished her food and also put her dish away. She hesitantly motioned to the couch and Abel went there quickly. Lute took in a deep breath and sat beside him. 

“Okay…Let’s start with the easiest question and work our way up to the harder ones,” Lute began. Abel watched her intently. “What happened to the old hotel and why did they have to rebuild it. Simple, the old one got destroyed.”

“But how did it get destroyed?”

Lute hesitated only for a moment, “They got attacked. Moving on.”

Abel reacted shocked, as if he were watching a movie, waiting for what was next.

“An exorcist is…” Lute drew in a shaky breath, trying to find the best way to explain, “Exorcists are the people who go down to Hell and eradicate the bad souls down there.”

Abel covered his mouth in surprise, “But I thought dad said that there was a curse that did that once a year?”

“You can think of them as that, they play the same role. They’re an important part of Hell, in a way. They keep the population under control, or it can get crowded quickly.”

“Are they actual people?”

“They are,” Lute replied.

“If they kill people, doesn’t that make them bad?”

“I suppose it could. But it’s their job.”

Abel scrunched his face in disgust, “That’s a mean job.”

“Maybe so, but they have to do it. If Hell is too overcrowded, then it just breeds more chaos and destruction. So it has to be done.”

“But then how come more people aren’t trying to get into Miss Charlie’s hotel? So that they can work on getting out of Hell?”

“Many of them probably don’t want to come here. They would rather stay down there to continue to do the things that got them sent there in the first place. Not everyone wants to better themselves.”

Abel paused for a long time. “Okay, that makes sense…They wouldn’t be able to do those bad things here.”

“Exactly, so why would they want to be here?” Lute remarked rhetorically.

Abel looked at her sadly, “So then…The questions about dad are the hardest to answer?”

Lute felt a strong chill run through her entire body,  “Abel…I really don’t think you’re ready. We should wait until he’s back with us.” She was in too deep to back out now, whatever happened next was going to, but it would be best if he were here before testing the extent of this poor child’s optimism.

Abel shook his head, “Just tell me already, mama!”

She felt as though her back was against the wall. She inhaled sharply and spoke slowly, “Your dad…Your dad and I…We are exorcists. The commanders. We lead the others into Hell to control the population there.” Lute braced herself for argument, but nothing came. No outburst of yelling or crying. She just saw Abel’s face silently begin to swell with tears as he processed what she had told him. His bottom lip began trembling.

Lute wanted to console him, but when she reached out to touch him he flinched away from her. He could barely see through his tears, “How could you do that? You say it’s just a job, but dad’s down there. And he’s there because he killed people? Are you going to keep going down there and hurting people? What if dad gets hurt before he can come back?”

“No! No, we aren't going to continue the exterminations…At least not until he’s back here and safe.”

“So when he’s back, you’ll keep doing them? And does that mean you are the ones who attacked Miss Charlie’s hotel?!” Abel cried in disbelief.

“I- I don’t know, okay? It’s complicated,” She raked her nails through her hair. “We’re just the ones who do the dirty work, someone else was telling us to,” Lute confessed, her resolve and composure collapsing.

Abel jumped off the couch defiantly, no longer listening to her. His face burned gold from anger, “And that’s why you got so mad at me when I would talk about forgiving the mistakes people made…you didn’t really think those people are worthy of forgiveness, or that they can change.” Abel waved his arms out, “But now that dad is down there, you suddenly change your mind?”

Lute rose to her feet but was speechless. She opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to find something to say. 

Abel glared at her through his tears. “You know what? Maybe you should be down there with him!” He screamed to her as he ran past her and down the hallway to his room.

Lute collapsed to the floor and could feel her heart shatter as his door slammed shut. Left in her guilt, she reflected on his words. She felt no anger, only a pestering emptiness. ‘We didn’t believe it to be possible. Just more of their silly excuses to avoid being killed...We didn’t know.’

 She sat on the floor lost for words. The sweetest kid she had ever met quite literally told her to go to Hell. He had rightfully called her beliefs into question, and she didn’t have a defense. She wasn’t sure what she believed in anymore.

Abel ran over to his window and opened it. He formed his hands into fists and began to flap his wings as hard as he could. As he pulled himself onto the window sill and leapt down from it, he achieved his first flight. He only hovered a couple feet above the ground, but he wasn’t looking to celebrate. He flew off quickly in the direction of the promenade, looking for the farthest place he could think of to go.

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When Lute had regained her strength, she went to Abel’s room. She knocked on his door but got no answer. 

She frowned and pleaded softly, “Please, let me in, Abel.”  She opened the door quietly, thinking that he had maybe cried himself to sleep. Upon realizing the window was open and he was nowhere in the room, she froze. 

Running outside she took off into the sky, hoping to see more of the area and find him quickly. 

‘He can’t have gone too far. It’s Heaven, so he’s safe. But still...’ 

She checked the daycare first, hoping it would be the first and last place she’d have to check. Elle did an extensive head count but he wasn’t there. 

She went to Emily, thinking that maybe he went to her. He wasn’t with her either. 

Emily reassured her that she was positive Abel was okay, it is Heaven after all. Lute tried her best to coherently tell her what had happened before he left. Emily frowned, “Well, it’s understandable why he’s so upset…I think it might be best to let him cool off.” 

Lute searched all over the promenade, on the verge of a panic attack. The ice cream shop, the zoo, the many shops along the street. But Abel wasn’t anywhere.

‘Where could he be?! Wait-‘ She pulled out her phone and quickly tried to contact Adam. ‘Please. Please let this work.’

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A few hours after Lute, Emily, and Abel had made their departure from the hotel, Adam and Angel sat talking to each other while Husk tended the bar, as usual.

“So, your kid. He's real young to be in Heaven…Do I wanna know how that happened?” Angel asked as he nursed from his martini glass.

Adam frowned before taking a sip of his drink, “Well to make an old story short, his brother killed him.”

Angel’s eyes went wide, “Oh right, this was like early early history. Was it like, outta jealousy or anger?”

“Nah, just…unsupervised kids. Playing a game that went too far,” Adam mindlessly swirled around the liquid in the glass. “It was my fault, I wasn’t paying enough attention.”

Husk rolled his eyes and scoffed, “What? You feel bad ‘cause your kid died? Oh, boo hoo.”

Adam gave him a scowl and went back to his drink, “Of fucking course I do. It was an accident that should have been avoided…But I couldn’t do anything about it. I used to push the blame onto my ex, but she was right. I should have been watching them.”

“Heh, good. Have a taste of your own medicine,” Husk remarked.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean, Feathers?” 

“It means, you should know how it makes others feel when their own kids die in front of them,” Husk snarled at him.

Angel’s eyes flicked between the two of them and slowly stood, beginning to back away. “Imma just stay outta this one. Maybe I’ll go get Charlie,” he mumbled under his breath.

Adam stared back at Husk blankly. His eyes widened after a moment, “Oh shit. I don’t think I realized that was a possibility. I mean, makes sense but fuck…Wait, is that why you hate me so much?”

“Among other reasons,” Husk narrowed his eyes. He cleaned up Angel’s empty glass and ran a rag over the condensation puddle left on the counter. Husk sighed as he looked back at Adam, “I won’t forgive you, you know. Charlie may believe you can have a change of heart, and maybe you can, maybe you did. But you won’t get my forgiveness. Not after what you’ve done.”

Adam downed what remained of his drink, setting the glass down in front of Husk. He watched as a bead of water ran down the glass, “Yeah, I get it. I wouldn’t either.” After some painful seconds of silence that dragged on he solemnly asked, “Did I kill one of your kids in the past?” 

“You yourself? No. The exorcists, who were under your leadership? Yeah,” Husk answered sharply.

Adam lowered his eyes to the floor, “Shit, my bad…I mean- I’m sorry. How long ago was this?”

“I watched my own daughter get slaughtered in front of me. Will be coming on 10 years this upcoming extermination. I couldn’t do anything but helplessly watch as she cried out for me to help her,” Husk said as he absentmindedly took care of Adam’s glass and wiped the bar again. “And the boss just made me stand there and watch,” he snarled to himself

Adam turned to look at him, “Boss? You mean Freakshow? So all that time you spent holding a grudge at me, for something that guy did?”

“He ain’t the one who causes the exterminations, jackass. Not like back then we knew we could fight them anyway,” Husk replied.

Adam was hesitant for a moment. While it’s true he led the exterminations each year, but they weren’t originally his idea. “What if she’s in Heaven now and just no one knew about it?”

Husk gave him a disapproving, skeptical eyebrow raise. 

Adam shrugged, “Hey, ya never know? Could be? That snake guy is there now, so guess anything’s possible. Who knows, he might not have actually been the first, maybe they’ve just been keeping ‘em secret. Like they might have an entire district restricted to just people from here.”

Husk blinked at him, “…You believe in that now? Whatever happened to that “redemption is nonsense” spiel?”

“Hey man, look. I want to get home just as much as you don’t want me here,” Adam waved his hand up with a smirk. Husk rolled his eyes in response.

Charlie came speed walking into the area, “Okay you two, this needs to stop. You need to get along or so help me.”

“Nothing’s happenin’, Princess,” Husk replied calmly.

“It’s- It’s not? Angel said a fight was about to break out,” Charlie asked confusedly.

Angel shrugged, also confused, “Well it seemed like it was gonna get there.”

“We’re alright. I’ve voiced my complaints, and now it’s over with and off my chest,” Husk said plainly.

Adam glanced between Husk and Charlie, “Uh, yeah. Yeah, we're good.”

Suddenly Adam’s phone began to ring, startling everyone. He pulled his phone from his pocket, “It’s Lute…” 

He looked at the others before raising a finger to excuse himself, stepping away to answer. “Hey what’s up, babe. You miss me already?” He said with a playful tone.

“I can’t find Abel.” She sounded scared. He’d never heard her full on scared before, aside from those last few moments when he was dying. 

“What?”

“Abel, he was asking so many questions and I didn’t know what to do I-”

“Woah hold on, breathe. Back the fuck up, what about Abel?”

He heard her take a deep breath to steady herself. “Abel started asking about exorcists and asking what got you sent to Hell. One thing led to another and now he knows we’re the ones who kill sinners and attacked the hotel. He ran away and now I can’t find him anywhere.”

Adam gritted his teeth, “Oh. Oh that’ll do it…Shattered his worldview. Welp…Guess we couldn’t keep it from him forever…A-Anyway- Did you check the daycare?”

“Of fucking course I checked the fucking daycare! That was the first fucking place I looked. Emily hasn’t seen him either. I have looked everywhere I can think of -and it’s getting late and I am freaking the fuck out.”

“Hey it’ll be alright, it’s Heaven-”

“Yes, I get it, it’s Heaven he’ll be fine. I know. But where is he? Where could he have fucking gone?!” She said while grinding her teeth. ‘Why is everyone reminding me that?!’

Adam held the phone away from his head as she yelled. “Yeesh, sorry. Um, what about the park? The one that’s like a garden. He always liked nature and stuff, maybe there?”

“Thank you. What if he isn’t there, what then?” Lute’s voice strained.

“Relax, babe. He’ll turn up.”

“How are you being so calm?!”

“It’s not like I can do anything from down here? It’ll be alright, trust me, he’s probably there.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Uh, I’m his dad? That’s how,” Adam said with a snort. He heard her aggravated sigh and spoke softly, “Let me know when you find him though.”

“I will.” Lute’s tone had calmed slightly. 

As the call ended, Adam sat back down at the bar, “Ugh, could ya pour me a shot? Somethin’ strong would be great.”

Husk gave him a raised brow, “Whiskey?”

“Sure, whatever works,” Adam rubbed his forehead. Husk poured him his shot and handed it over.

“What was that about?” Angel asked.

Adam shot back his drink, making a face as he swallowed, “Eeugh- that was fucking gross.” He shook off the taste and turned to answer Angel, “Guess Abel found out about the exterminations and our role in ‘em. He got real upset and ran off. Lute’s out lookin’ for him.”

“He didn’t know??” Both Charlie and Angel gasped.

Adam scratched at his hairline, “Yeahh…That kids too smart for his own good…We had tried to beat around tellin’ him but guess that could only go so far…”

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Abel had found his way to the garden in the park. He had been there before during a supervised trip with other kids from the daycare. It had started to get dark and the garden was being illuminated by the lanterns from a walkway. 

He sat at the edge of the pond and started angrily throwing pebbles into the water one at a time. He sniffled and wiped his tears on his shoulder, “Stupid, stupid…”

He heard the rustling of grass behind him. He tucked his knees to his chest making himself appear smaller.

“Hello there…Little boy? Are you alright?” The voice asked nervously. Abel peeked over his shoulder. That wasn’t the voice he had expected to hear. “May I sssit with you?”

Abel gave the man a small nod and turned back to continue tossing pebbles into the water.

“Why are you crying? What’ss wrong?”

“I’m mad. And…sad,” Abel choked out.

“Oh, how come you’re alone?”

“Because. I ran away from home. My parents lied to me about something really important and I don’t think I can trust them anymore…” Abel wiped his running nose, “And now I don’t know what to do.”

Sir Pentious looked down at him sadly, “Oh my. I bet they’re very worried about you.”

“I don’t think so…Who are you anyway?”

“My name’s Sir Pentious, and you are?” He asked with a smile.

“I’m Abel,” he pulled up chunks of grass and threw them into the water, now out of rocks. “How come you’re out here all alone?”

“Oh well, the eldest ssseraphim only permitted me to go out after everyone had gone back to their homes…She doesn’t really want people to sssee me, I guess.”

Abel looked up at him, “Why not? That doesn’t seem very fair.”

Pentious shrugged unknowingly. They sit quietly watching the water ripples in the pond.

Abel buried his face in his knees, “I miss my dad…and I miss mama…But they’re bad. Really bad.”

“Why do you think they’re ssso bad? They’re here in Heaven, are they not?”

Abel shook his head, “Nu-uh, my dad’s down in Hell. He used to be up here, but he’s not anymore. He killed people.”

“Oh. Well, you know. When I was alive, I’m sssure I must have killed a number of people with the great machines I created,” Pentious awkwardly mentioned.

Abel looked at him shocked, “Then, how come you’re in Heaven? Killing people is really bad.”

“I was in Hell until only months ago, then I ssshowed up here.”

Abel looked at him confused, “You were? So how come you’re up here now?” 

Pentious shrugged, “I’m not really sssure, but I believe it may have to do with my time at this lovely hotel I had been ssstaying in.” He began to tear up, “Oh, how I miss the friends I made there.” 

Abel blinked at him a few times, “Wait! Do you mean Miss Charlie’s hotel??” 

“Why yes! How do you know about that?” 

Abel looked away, “That’s where my dad is right now…”

“Oh…” After a pause, Pentious set a hand on his shoulder, “Well then, I’m positive he’ll make it back some day.”

“How can you be sure?”

Pentious smiled at him, “A little sssorry can go a long way. If he can accept his faults and ssstrives to be better, all it takes to ssstart is sssorry.”

Abel looked at his feet tearfully, “Maybe…Maybe I should go home, tell mama I’m sorry for leaving…and for the mean things I said to her…But I’m scared.”

“She’s your mother, I’m sssure she’ll forgive you.”

Abel rested his cheek on his knee, facing Sir Pentious, “Could we maybe stay and hang out just a bit longer? I don’t think I’m ready yet…”

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Lute arrived at the park entrance, she scanned over the area tirelessly, “Abel? Abel are you out here?” Her voice was more afraid than angry, though it was present.

She shuffled her way through the park until she came to a clearing.  There at the edge of the pond sat Abel and his newest friend. They were laughing quietly to each other, but Lute couldn’t hear over what. As she stepped closer with her hand over her heavy beating chest, she whispered, “Abel…”

Sir Pentious turned to the sound of her voice, “Oh, hello there.”

Abel turned to look as well, his eyes welling with tears upon seeing Lute. He scrambled to his feet and began running to her, “Mama!” 

He clung himself to her legs tightly, as if someone were trying to pull him away from her. He wailed and sobbed into her repeating, “I’m sorry, mama. I’m sorry.”

Lute looked down at him and rested her hand on his head, at a loss for words, just relieved to have found him. She squinted at Sir Pentious, “Have we met before? You seem vaguely familiar…”

Pentious looked side to side anxiously, “Uh…I don’t believe ssso?”

“Hmm, alright.” She pat Abel’s head lightly, “Okay buddy, say bye to your friend. It is most certainly past your bedtime.”

Abel waved back to him, not letting go of Lute’s leg. “Bye mister Pentious. I hope we can hang out again, maybe when the seraphim stops being so mean to you,” he said softly. Lute gave him a questioning head tilt but brushed it off. Abel took her hand and stared up at her, “Home?”

“Yeah, buddy, home,” she said quietly as they walked out of the park. 

Pentious wiped away the tears forming in the corner of his eyes as he watched the two leave, “Aww, he’s a sssweet kid.”

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 Back home, Lute was tucking Abel into bed. She kissed his forehead lightly, but as she pulled away his voice cracked, “Please don’t leave, mama.”

She ran her fingers over his forehead and cheek, “I’m not going to, Abel. I’m here.”

“I’m really sorry for what I said, I didn’t mean it…I was just mad. And sad…S’mad,” he explained with sad eyes as he sat up. “I really do think everyone needs second chances…No matter what they’ve done.”

She gave a knowing nod, “I know, buddy. And I’m sorry for keeping things from you. Me and your dad. I’m sure he’s not feeling great about what happened either. Hey- why don’t we give him a call?”

“Okay! And I can tell him about the new friend I made! He used to be a part of Miss Charlie’s hotel!”

Lute’s expression fell for a second. ‘Oh. Now that makes sense.’ She pulled her phone from her pocket and called Adam’s number and put him on speaker when he answered.

“Hey! You find him yet?”

“Hi dad!”

“Does that answer your question?” Lute chuckled.

“Yeah, hey wait-” Adam hit a button on his phone and turned his camera on, “Hey can ya see me??” He was lying across his bed.

Lute held the phone up, “Yup.” She turned her camera on and handed it to Abel. Abel giggled happily upon seeing his dad through the phone.

“So, I heard you were giving your mama trouble?” Adam poked playfully.

Abel gave a sad pout, “I did…But I told her I was sorry!”

Adam gave him a smile, “That’s a start. I gotta say that too. It wasn’t right to lie to ya, but maybe you can see how it was kinda messy to explain?”

“Yeah…But it’ll be okay. I made a new friend today! He said he had also killed a lot of people, but he’s in Heaven now after staying in Miss Charlie’s hotel, so that means you can too!”

“Oh shit, really? Musta been that snake guy I keep hearing about. That’s cool.”

Lute brought a finger to her lips in thought. ‘Yup, I remember him now. You killed that guy, Adam. Maybe don’t bring that up.’

“Yeah pretty sure I’m the reason he made it up there,” Adam let out a half awkward  laugh.

Lute smashed her hand into her face and frustratingly brushed her hair back, ‘Oh, you fool.’

“Well, at least he’s up here now! He said the seraphim are being kinda mean to him though, not letting him see people…” Abel mentions sadly.

“Ah yeah, that bitch Sera probably. She’s got control issues, and sinners getting redeemed into Heaven isn’t gonna be something she has control over. She’ll get over it. Especially once I’m back. She can’t do shit to stop me, either.”

Abel laughed which then turned into a yawn, “I love you, dad. I’m gonna go to bed now, goodnight.”

“Alright, kiddo get some sleep. Love ya too,” Adam said as Abel passed the phone back to Lute. Lute gave Abel another kiss on the forehead before exiting the room, leaving his door ajar.

Lute propped the phone up against the lamp on her nightstand facing the bed. She changed into a nightgown before laying down facing the phone, “You know, it’s gonna be really strange falling asleep without you here.”

“Pssh, you were doing it before, weren’tcha?”

“Yeah, when you were dead and I didn’t have a choice,” she replied snarkily. 

“You got my hoodie, right? Snuggle with that,”

Lute shifted around and grabbed his hoodie from the other side of the bed, “I do in fact have it. And I was planning to.” She tucked it under her chin and had her arm around it. She took a deep whiff of his hoodie and nuzzled into it. 

Adam watched her blissfully, wishing he could be there, “Wanna stay on until we fall asleep?”

“What, like those couples in long distance relationships?”

“I mean, that is pretty much our situation right now, so…”

Lute peaked at him from behind the fabric of his hoodie, “Sure, we can do that. Makes it feel like you’re right here with me.”

“Yeah,”  he said softly.

Adam watched as her eyes grew heavy and eventually closed. Her breathing slowed and there was the faintest sound of a snore. He looked at her longingly, wishing he could reach out and touch her.

“Somehow I’ll make it home. I promise.”

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Thank you for reading 💕 😇

[bixels]

Learning that fans hated Applejack and called her "boring" is crazyyy to me because I genuinely, unironically believe AJ's the most complex character in the main six.

Backstory-wise, she was born into a family of famers/blue collar workers who helped found the town she lives in. She grew up a habitual liar until she had the bad habit traumatized outta her. She lost both her parents and was orphaned at a young age, having to step up as her baby sister's mother figure. She's the only person in the main gang who's experienced this level of loss and grief (A Royal Problem reveals that AJ dreams about memories of being held by her parents as a baby). She moved to Manhattan to live with her wealthy family members, only to realize she'll never fit in or be accepted, even amongst her own family. The earlier seasons imply she and her family had money problems too (In The Ticket Master, AJ wants to go to the gala to earn money to buy new farm equipment and afford hip surgery for her grandma).

Personality-wise, she's a total people-pleaser/steamroller (with an occasional savior complex) who places her self worth on her independence and usefulness for other people, causing her to become a complete workaholic. In Applebuck Season, AJ stops taking care of herself because of her obsessive responsibilities for others and becomes completely dysfunctional. In Apple Family Reunion, AJ has a tearful breakdown because in she thinks she dishonored her family and tarnished her reputation as a potential leader –– an expectation and anxiety that's directly tied to her deceased parents, as shown in the episode's ending scene. In The Last Roundup, AJ abandons her family and friends out of shame because believes she failed them by not earning 1st place in a rodeo competition. She completely spirals emotionally when she isn't able to fulfill her duties toward others. Her need to be the best manifests in intense pride and competitiveness when others challenge her. And when her pride's broken, she cowers and physically hides herself.

Moreover, it's strongly implied that AJ has a deep-seated anger. The comics explore her ranting outbursts more. EQG also obviously has AJ yelling at and insulting Rarity in a jealous fit just to hurt her feelings (with a line that I could write a whole dissection on). And I'm certain I read in a post somewhere that in a Gameloft event, AJ's negative traits are listed as anger.

Subtextually, a lot of these flaws and anxieties can be (retroactively) linked to her parents' death, forcing her to grow up too quickly to become the adult/caregiver of the family (especially after her big brother becomes semiverbal). Notice how throughout the series, she's constantly acting as the "mom friend" of the group (despite everything, she manages to be the most emotionally mature of the bunch). Notice how AJ'll switch to a quieter, calmer tone when her friends are panicking and use soothing prompts and questions to talk them through their emotions/problems; something she'd definitely pick up while raising a child. Same with her stoicism and reluctance at crying or releasing emotions (something Pinkie explicitly points out). She also had a childhood relationship with Rara (which, if you were to give a queer reading, could easy be interpreted as her first 'aha' crush), who eventually left her life. (Interestingly enough, AJ also has an angry outburst with Rara for the same exact reasons as with EQG Rarity; jealous, upset that someone else is using and changing her). It's not hard to imagine an AJ with separation anxiety stemming from her mother and childhood friend/crush leaving. I'm also not above reading into AJ's relationship with her little sister (Y'all ever think about how AB never got to know her parents, even though she shares her father's colors and her mother's curly hair?).

AJ's stubbornness is a symptom of growing up too quickly as well. Who else to play with your baby sister when your brother goes nonverbal (not to discount Big Mac's role in raising AB)? Who else to wake up in the middle of the night to care for your crying baby sister when your grandma needs her rest? When you need to be 100% all the time for your family, you tend to become hard-stuck with a sense of moral superiority. You know what's best because you have to be your best because if you're aren't your best, then everything'll inevitably fall apart and it'll be your fault. And if you don't know what's best –– if you've been wrong the whole time –– that means you haven't been your best, which means you've failed the people who rely on you, which means you can't fulfill your role in the family/society, which makes you worthless . We've seen time and time again how this compulsive need to be right for the sake of others becomes self-destructive (Apple Family Reunion, Sound of Silence, all competitions against RD). We've seen in The Last Roundup how, when no longer at her best, AJ would rather remove herself from her community than confront them because she no longer feels of use to them.

But I guess it is kinda weird that AJ has "masculine" traits and isn't interested in men at all. It's totally justified that an aggressively straight, misogynistic male fandom would characterize her as a "boring background character." /s

At the time of writing this, it's 4:46AM.

[artkaninchenbau]

People keep on asking for more Baby Robin and Papadile so here is more Baby Robin and Papadile. Now never ask anything from me ever again

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Trapped in a vicious cycle of pining? Try gay sex! (More things to learn over at Tiger Tiger!)

[confessedlyfannish]

Writing Prompt #12

Bruce is reading the paper when the pour of Tim's coffee goes abruptly quiet. It would be hard to pinpoint why this is disturbing if it wasn't for the way the soft, tinny sound the vent system in the manor makes cuts out for the first time since being updated in the 90s. The pour, Bruce realizes, has not slowed to a trickle before stopping. It has simply stopped. And there is no overeager clack of a the mug against the marble counter or the uncouth first slurp (nor muttered apology at Alfred's scolding look) immediately following the end of the pour.

Bruce fights the instinct to use all of his senses to investigate, and instead keeps his eyes on the byline of the article detailing the latest set of microearthquakes to hit the midwest in the last week. Microearthquakes aren't an unusual occurrence and aren't noticeable by human standards, which is why this article is regulated to page seven, but from several hundred a day worldwide to several hundred a day solely in the East North Central States, seismologists are baffled.

Bruce had been considering sending Superman to investigate under the guise of a Daily Planet article requested by Bruce Wayne (Wayne Industries does have an offshoot factory in the area) when everything had stopped twenty seconds ago. That is what he assumes has happened (having not moved a muscle to confirm) in the amount of time he assumes has passed. His million dollar Rolex does not quite audibly tick but in the absolute silence it should be heard, which confirms the silence to be exactly that—absolute.

While Bruce can hold his breath with the best of the Olympian swimmers, he has never accounted for a need to remain without blinking without being able to move one's eyes. Rotating the eyeballs will maintain lubrication such that one could go without blinking for up to ten minutes. But staring at the byline fixedly, he estimates another twenty seconds before tears start to form.

These are the thoughts Bruce distracts himself with, because he doesn't dare consider how Tim and Alfred haven't made a (living) sound in the past forty-five seconds. About Damian, packing his bag upstairs for school after a morning walk with Titus that was "just pushing it, Master Damian".

There is a knife to his right, if memory serves (it does). In the next five seconds—

"Your wards and guardian are fine, Mr. Wayne," the deepest voice Bruce has ever heard intones. For a dizzying moment, it is hard to pinpoint the location of the voice, for it comes from everywhere—like the chiming of a clocktower whilst inside the tower, so overpowering he is cocooned in its volume.

But it is not spoken loudly, just calmly, and when he puts the paper down, folds it, and looks to his right, a blue man sits in Dick's chair.

He wears a three piece suit made entirely of hues of violet, tie included. He has a black brooch in the shape of a cogwheel pinned to his chest pocket, a simple chain clipped to his lapel. Black leather gloves delicately thumb Bruce's watch (no longer on his wrist, somewhere between second 45 and 46 it has stopped being on his wrist), admiring it.

"You'll forgive me," the man says with surety. "Clocks are rather my thing, and this is an impressive piece." He turns it over and reveals the 'M. Brando' roughly scratched into the silver back. He frowns.

"What a shame," he says, placing it face side up on the table.

"Most would consider that the watch's most valuable characteristic." Bruce says, voice steady, hands neatly folded before him. Two inches from the knife. To his left, there is an open doorway to the kitchen. If he turns his head, he might be able to get a glance of Tim or Alfred.

He doesn't look away from the man.

"It is the arrogance of man," the man says, raising red eyes (sclera and all) to Bruce, "to think they can make their mark on time."

"...Is that supposed to be considered so literally?" Bruce asks, with a light smile he does not mean.

The man smiles lightly back, eyes crinkling at the corners. He looks to be in his mid thirties, clean-shaven. His skin is a dull blue, his hair a shock of white, and a jagged scar runs through one eye and curving down the side of his cheek, an even darker, rawer shade of blue-purple.

The man turns the watch back over and taps at the engraving. "Let me ask you this," he says. "When we deface a work of art, does it become part of the art? Does it add to its intrinsic meaning?"

Bruce forces his shoulders to shrug. "It's arbitrary," he says. "A teenager inscribes his name on the wall of an Ancient Egyptian temple and his parents are forced to publicly apologize. But runic inscriptions are found on the Hagia Sophia that equate to an errant Viking guard having inscribed 'Halfdan was here' and we consider it an artifact of a time in which the Byzantine Empire had established an alliance with the Norse and converted vikings to Christianity."

"The vikings were as errant as the teenager," the man says, "in my experience." He leans back in his chair. "I suppose you could say the difference is time. When time passes, we start to think of things as artistic, or historical. We find the beauty in even the rubble, or at least we find necessity in the destruction..."

He offers Bruce the watch. After a moment, Bruce takes it.

"The problem, Mr. Wayne, is that time does not pass for me. I see it all as it was, as it is, as it ever will be, at all times. There is no refuge from the horror or comfort in that one day..." he closes his hand, the leather squeaking. And then his face smooths out, the brief severity gone. He regards Bruce calmly.

"You can look left, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks left. Framed by the doorway, Tim looks like a photograph caught in time. A stream of coffee escapes the spout of the stainless steel pot he prefers over the Breville in the name of expediency, frozen as it makes its way to the thermos proclaiming BITCH I MIGHTWING. Tim regards his task with a face of mindless concentration, mouth slack, lashes in dark relief against his pale skin as he looks down at the mug. Behind him, Bruce can see Alfred's hand outstretched towards the refrigerator handle, equally and terrifyingly still.

"My name is Clockwork," the man says. "I have other names, ones you undoubtedly know, but this one will be bestowed upon me from the mouth of a child I cherish, and so I favor it above all else. I am the Keeper of Time."

"What do you want from me?" Bruce asks, shedding Wayne for Batman in the time it takes to meet Clockwork's eyes. The man acknowledges the change with a greeting nod.

"In a few days time, you will send Superman to the Midwest to investigate the unusual seismic activity. By then, it will be too late, the activity will be gone. They will have already muzzled him."

"Him."

"There is a boy with the power to rule the realm I come from. Your government has been watching him. The day he turned 18, they took him from his family and hid him away. I want you to retrieve him. I want you to do it today."

"Why me?"

"His parents do not have the resources you do, both as Batman and Bruce Wayne. You will dismantle the organization that is keen on keeping him imprisoned, and you will offer him a scholarship to the local University. You and yours will keep him safe within Gotham until he is able to take his place as my King."

This is a lot of information to take in, even for Bruce. The idea that there could be a boy powerful enough to rule over this (god, his mind whispers) entity and that somehow, he has slipped under all of their radars is as frustrating as it is overwhelming. But although Clockwork has seemed willing to converse, he doesn't know how many more questions he will get.

"You have the power to stop time," he decides on, "why don't you rescue him? Would he not be better suited with you and your people?"

"Within every monarchy, there is a court," Clockwork. "Mine will be unhappy with the choice I have made," he looks at Bruce's watch, head cocked. "In different worlds, they call you the Dark Knight. This will be your chance to serve before a True King."

Bruce bristles. "I bow to no one."

"You'll all serve him, one day," Clockwork says, patiently. "He is the ruler of realms where all souls go, new and old. When you finally take refuge, he will be your sanctuary." He frowns. "But your government rejects the idea of gods. All they know is he is other. Not human. Not meta. A weapon."

"A weapon you want me to bring to my city."

"I believe you call one of your weapons 'Clark', do you not?" Clockwork asks idly. "But you misunderstand me. They seek to weaponize him. He is not restrained for your safety, but for their gain."

"And if I don't take him?" Bruce asks, because a) Clockwork has implied he will be at the very least impeded, at worst destroyed over this, and b) he never did quite learn not to poke the bear. "You won't be around if I decide he's better off with the government."

"You will," Clockwork says, with the same certainty he's wielded this entire conversation. "Not because he is a child, though he is, nor because you are good, though you are, nor even because it is better power be close at hand than afar.

"I have told you my court will be unhappy with me. In truth, there are others who also defend the King. Together we will destroy the access to our world not long after this conversation. The court will be unable to touch him, but neither will we as we face the repercussions for our actions. I am telling you this, because in a timeline where I do not, you think I will be there to protect him. And so when he is in danger, even subconsciously, you choose to save him last, or not at all. And that is the wrong choice.

"So cement it in your head, Bruce Wayne," the man says, "You will go to him because I tell you to. And you will keep him safe until he is ready to return to us. He will find no safety net in me. So you will make the right choice, no matter the cost."

"Or, when our worlds connect again, and they will," his voice now echoes in triplicate with the voices of the many, the young, the old, Tim, Bruce's mother, Barry Allen, Bruce's own voice, "I will not be the only one who comes for you."

"Now," he says, producing a Wayne Industries branded BIC pen. "I will tell you the location the boy is being kept, and then I would like my medallion back, please. In that order."

Bruce glances down and sees a golden talisman, attached to a black ribbon that is draped haphazardly around the neck of his bathrobe, so light (too light, he still should have—) he has not felt its weight until this moment.

Bruce flips the paper over, takes the pen, and jots down the coordinates the being rattles off over the face of a senator. By his calculation, they do correspond with a location in the midwest.

"You will find him on B6. Take a left down the hallway and he will be in the third room down, the one with a reinforced steel door. Take Mr. Kent and Mr. Grayson with you, and when you leave take the staircase at the end of the hallway, not the elevator."

The man gets up, dusts off his impeccably clean pants, and offers him a hand to shake.

"We will not meet again for some time, Mr. Wayne."

Bruce looks at the creature, stands, and shakes his hand. It feels like nothing. The Keeper of Time sighs, although nothing has been said.

"Ask your question, Mr. Wayne."

"I have more than one."

"You do," Clockwork says. "But I have heard them all, and so they are one. Please ask, or I will not be inclined to answer it."

"What does this boy mean for the future, that you are willing to sacrifice yourself for him?"

There is a pause.

"So that is the one," Clockwork says, after a time. "Yes. I see. I should resolve this, I suppose."

"Resolve what?"

"It is not his future I mean to protect," the man says. "It is his present."

"You want to keep him safe now..." Bruce says, but he's not sure what the being is trying to say.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork repeats, stops. His expression turns solemn, red eyes widening. In their reflection, Bruce can see something. A rush of movement too quick to make heads or tails of, like playing fast forward on a videotape. "Superman reports no signs of unusual seismic activity. With nothing further to look into, you let it go in favor of other investigative pursuits. You do not find him, as you are not meant to. He stays there. His family, his friends, they cannot find him. His captors tell him they have moved on. He does not believe them, until he does. He stays there. He stays there until he is strong enough to save himself."

Clockwork speaks stiffly, rattling off the chain of events as if reading a Justice League debrief. "He is King. He will always be King. He is strong, and good, and compassionate, and he is great for my people because yours have betrayed his trust beyond repair. He throws himself into being the best to ever Be, because there is nothing Left for him otherwise. We love him. We love him. We love him. My King. Forevermore."

The red film in his eyes stall out, and Bruce is forced to look away from how bright the image is, barely making out a silhouette before they dull back to their regular red.

"I am not inclined," Clockwork says slowly, "To this future."

"Because of what it means in the present," Bruce finishes for him. "They're not just imprisoning him, are they."

"They will have already muzzled him."

Clockworks is right in front of him faster than he can process, fist gripping the medallion at his neck so tight he now feels the ribbon digging into his skin.

"Unlike you, Mr. Wayne," and for the first time, the god is angry, and the image of it will haunt Bruce for the rest of his life, "I do not believe in building a better future on the back of a broken child."

"Find him," the deity orders, and yanks the necklace so hard the ribbon rips—

Clack!

"sluuuuurp!"

"Master Timothy, honestly!"

"Sorry Alfred!"

[amphibianaday]

day 1765

[lazylittledragon]

ok so i'm like. overwhelmed

i'm having one of the shittiest weeks of my life and i was really worried my store was going to be a complete flop (honestly i expected my friends to order some stuff and maybe a few other people and that was it)

and then half the things sold out in 2 hours so i'm!!!!! in shock

also the best part: the fundraiser stickers sold out completely!!

[silverwhittlingknife]

So you're a go to source for all things Dick&Tim bros and you tend to write primarily from Dick's POV. So, odd question, but if you were to summarize their relationship from his POV in FIVE panels which panels would you pick? Keeping in mind that one specific aspect of their relationship that you love needs to be clearly represented by each panel (loyalty, trust etc). I hope this is a fun challenge and not an annoying question so if you don't want to answer that's cool! Have a wonderful day!

No more talk. The same thoughts run through two minds... (SotB 29) / You're my equal. My closest ally. (RR 1) / I can't stop thinking how much I rely on him. (GoG 3)

25 Feelings Dick Has About Tim

This was such a kind ask & a cool challenge which I totally failed; here are TWENTY-five panels of Dick's POV on Tim sdfdsfds Look, I got carried away! Marcia and Cindy! The boys!!

OKAY SO BEFORE I GET TO THE PANELS A FEW NOTES:

WARNING THAT THERE ARE SOME NEGATIVE EMOTIONS IN HERE because I love conflict but but but you gotta remember those are not the final word!! They are complicated people and sometimes they get mad at each other BUT ultimately their relationship is so hugely important in both their lives & they love each other and rely on each other so much -!!! <3

Also I have CONCLUDING THOUGHTS at the end about what Dick's POV leaves out (mostly: a lot of Dick defending & protecting & supporting Tim, which Dick does instinctively but isn't very self-aware about most of the time)

I have loosely organized my list into 5^5 format (5 categories with 5 examples each!), so if you want to skip to a relevant one, here are the categories!!

Below the cut:

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1-5)

On second thought, he's endearing & fun (#6-10)

Grief is complicated & he's all tangled up in mine (#11-15)

I love him & think highly of him (#16-20)

I rely on him & though it's hard for me, I trust him (#21-25)

I hate him and find him infuriating (#1 - 5)

1) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze me and Bruce, but he doesn’t know me at all, he should get lost (New Titans 61)

2) He thinks he’s so smart and can psychoanalyze Bruce but he doesn’t know Bruce at all, he should get lost (Gotham Knights 26)

3) He is so nosy about stuff that is MY business (Robin 0)

4) He sounds like an insincere suck-up half the time... but okay, fine, if you push him he's got a sense of humor about it (New Titans 65)

5) I'm sure he's a better vigilante than me. It's my fault for being a failure, but I resent him anyway. (Nightwing 9 - Dick's having a nightmare)

On second thought, he's kinda endearing (#6-10)

6) He worries too much and gets anxious so easily, but it makes him fun to tease (Robin 67)

7) I'm not that competitive - okay, so maybe I'm a little competitive, I gotta make sure he doesn't get a swelled head (Prodigal)

8) I'm supposed to be his favorite! It is not cool for him to be fanboying over my not-girlfriend's not-boyfriend!! (Birds of Prey 19)

9) We have fun together. I can kick back and relax when it's just the two of us. Plus I get to boss him around a bit. (Prodigal)

10) He’s always trying to reassure me, and I guess it's a little comforting, but also he doesn’t really get it. Or me. He makes excuses that he shouldn't, because he doesn't understand that I suck. (Nightwing 64)

Grief is complicated and he's all tangled up in mine (#11 - 15)

11) He reminds me of everything I try not to think about. Sometimes the memories are so strong it hurts to look at him. (Batman 441)

12) WHY IS HE BEING IMPOSSIBLE ALL OF A SUDDEN??? THIS IS SO FRUSTRATING (Nightwing 139)

13) We're the same. He says all the things I don't let myself think about. It's like arguing with myself. (Nightwing 139)

14) He thinks he gets to tell me what to do but he doesn’t, fuck him (Battle for the Cowl)

15) Life sucks, so what. I sucked it up so he should too (RR 1)

I love him and think highly of him (#16 - 20)

16) He’s the closest thing to a brother I’ll ever have.  If someone hurts him I will hurt them harder. (Nightwing 6)

17) I can't handle the idea of losing him. (Nightwing 97)

17) He’s so good and I’m not. I'm afraid I’m bad for him. (Nightwing 110)

18) He’s better than me, and it’s kind of a relief because I know no matter what he’ll be okay. (Gates of Gotham 3)

19) In my head he’s the responsible one.  (Gotham Knights 10)

I rely on him, and though it's hard for me, I trust him (#20-25)

20) I know I have to trust him but I'm afraid he'll make the wrong choices and get hurt (Nightwing 139)

21) I'm sure I know what he should do because I see myself in him - not that I can take my own advice, but he should (Blackest Night 3)

22) I trust him.  When I’m losing my grip on things, he pulls me back. (Gotham Knights 10)

23) I want him to trust me (Red Robin 12)

24) He can tell when I'm lying. Sometimes he sees my weaknesses better than I wish he did. (Detective Comics 874)

25) He’s always there when I need him. (Teen Titans / Outsiders Secret Files)

Final rambling thoughts:

TIM: Uhh, okay, so I'm just skimming this list - do you really trust me? you're not just saying that? - but anyway, I'm confused because you left some stuff out? Like some stuff that's kinda important? DICK: No? I think I got everything? TIM (starts counting on his fingers): The time I was having a bad day but then I called you. The time I got captured by Two-Face but then you saved me. The time I fell off a train but then you saved me. The time I fell off a building but then you saved me. The time I fell off a different building - DICK: I feel like you're trying to make some kind of point but I'm not sure what it could be.

SO THE THING IS, I put 25 panels in here and not a single one has Dick catching Tim when he’s falling!!! But I think that's a central motif of their relationship from Tim’s POV, not Dick’s. I love Dick, but in some ways I think he is spectacularly un-self-aware.

And I think he especially has a lot of blind spots about Tim. He kinda intermittently gets that Tim admires him, and he enjoys it in a playful I-get-to-boss-you-around way. But Dick tends to consistently underestimate all of his own good qualities & skills, and he meets Tim at a point in his life when he's especially down on himself & his abilities. And so he's unable to see his own influence on Tim, & therefore unable to fully understand a lot of Tim's priorities and loyalties and motivations, because you can't actually understand Tim without understanding Dick's impact on him. There's a fascinating moment in Bruce Wayne: Murderer when Dick's completely blindsided & upset to discover that Tim doesn't entirely trust Bruce, even though this has been a definitive fact of Tim's whole thing ever since he showed up with his Batman needs Robin theory, and Barbara has to actively remind Dick of the obvious-to-everyone-except-Dick fact that a lot of Tim's loyalty is to Dick, and Tim loves Bruce but feels free to be more wary of him. (And to give Bruce credit: this is not something he ever begrudges.) But anyway Babs points this out, and Dick manages to sorta process it for about five seconds, but he cannot actually accept it into his worldview so instead he discards it at the speed of light and goes off and has an argument with Tim instead sdfsfdsf

All of Dick's virtues - Dick's kindness at the circus and Dick's determination to fight through grief and Dick's rigid sense of morals and Dick's vigilante skills and every time Dick has ever backed Tim up or listened to him or protected him or saved him from something or just been casually kind to a stranger in Tim's presence etc etc etc - all these things loom really large in Tim's mental story of Who Dick Is, and What Dick And Tim's Relationship Is. Tim meets Dick before he meets Bruce, trusts Dick more than Bruce, aspires to be Robin instead of Batman. And so in Tim's default version of the story, Dick is the super-special and admirable hero and Tim is... nobody in particular, a tagalong outsider who's barely managing to be a hero, not part of Dick and Bruce's family and not part of their story, who, if he's VERY LUCKY and tries REALLY HARD, might be able to fight his way to proving himself and offering something to Dick that Dick will value, if Dick doesn't get fed up with him first.

But that's not Dick's version of the story!!!

Dick's version of the story is almost the exact opposite, a story where Dick's an outcast failure black sheep who's screwing up everything he tries, and meanwhile Tim is The Sudden New Perfect Robin Who's Better Than Me And Probably Bruce Loves Him More And Probably They Gossip About What A Loser I Am, mixed with a complicated edge of Tim Thinks He's So Smart But He Doesn't Know Me/Us At All. Dick gets much more attached to Tim over time, and Tim gets unnervingly better at the know-it-all psychoanalysis so then Dick gets to have complicated feelings about him being right instead of just annoyance at him for being wrong, plus Dick's relationship with Bruce improves a lot, so Tim stops feeling so threatening. But Dick never fundamentally changes his basic theory of their relationship in which Tim is highly impressive and capable, and Dick is not so much.

And so asking Dick about Tim is kinda like if you asked George Bailey to tell you about Harry Bailey in It's A Wonderful Life; like, you'll be there for five hours while he tells you how great Harry is, and how accomplished Harry is, and how he doesn't really get how or why Harry does the things he does, and maybe George does feel a little resentful or jealous sometimes, but that pales in comparison to all his admiration and trust for Harry who he loves so much, who's better than him in so many ways, and he's not gonna openly gripe but secretly he can't help but feel sometimes like he's such a failure in comparison to Harry, a perfect person who emerged fully formed from Zeus's head with all the virtues and also all the accomplishments, etc. etc. etc. --

-- and he will not actually remember the part where he changed and saved Harry's whole entire life unless you literally send him to an alternate timeline in order to force him to remember it. <3

[coffeebanana]

having thoughts about the marinette and nathalie hug because like.

my god.

marinette's just had her world turned inside out

she's just a kid and how's she supposed to carry all this alone and what is she supposed to do and what does she tell adrien?

and then, suddenly, there's someone there to share the burden. an adult. someone who has a reputation for getting things done

so maybe, just this once, everything doesn't have to balance on marinette's shoulders alone

but it's nathalie--who, sure, adrien obviously cares about. but not someone marinette's at all close to. certainly not someone she probably thinks of as warm or parental or even very trustworthy. maybe marinette's even started to put the pieces together--if gabriel was monarch, then mayura must have been...??

those doubts seem insignificant when she actually sees nathalie

the last time marinette saw her, she was dying. and now marinette knows what gabriel wished for--at least some of it. she knows he did one good thing in the end. that he finally, to some degree, put adrien first

then another horrible truth dawns on marinette: nathalie doesn't know--of course she was aware gabriel was dying, but she still doesn't know he's dead

marinette's probably already thought up a hundred different ways she might break the news to adrien--even if she discarded them all just as quickly. she hasn't thought at all about breaking the news to nathalie

what's she supposed to say? however complicated things were in the end, gabriel was obviously someone nathalie cared about

marinette struggles to find the words, but nathalie just knows. she already suspected, because how would she be here if gabriel was as well? and now the truth's written all over marinette's face

it's not just marinette who needs that hug--though nathalie would probably never admit it, which is why it's marinette who's running to her

how many weeks has adrien been gushing to nathalie about marinette? about how she's so creative and strong and compassionate and full of love

and in that moment, nathalie understands

[cometshift]

predisasters

[kaitobromota]

[Blows the dust off this blog] Long time no see...

Back in the Danganronpa pits... have some silly doodles for an...AU? or like, slight canon divergence/missing scene? I got to chapter 5 in my THH replay and was thinking about the part where these four are alone in the gym dismantling Monokuma all night.

I know realistically it's supposed to be because they were paranoid and extra careful about taking it slow so nothing went wrong... but like... their alibi is from 10pm to 7am? In my heart of hearts it actually took the whole night because they kept getting distracted and chit-chatting and got into a bunch of shenanigans once the actual dismantling part was done. Like Byakuya says they went to the bathroom in pairs?? Not to mention you'd totally expect him to make a comment about how insufferable it was being stuck together for like nine hours. And Hina says they played rock paper scissors to decide who brought back breakfast???

You can't tell me they didn't bond at least a little bit. A friend pointed out it'd have the vibes of a 4am discord call and that's exactly it. Emotional confessions about personal fears and insecurities to dumb physiological debates that become inside jokes forever. Etc.

[moongothic]

Madoka is the promise you won't turn from a child, full of hopes and dreams and the wish to save the world, into a bitter adult who just wants to hurt others and ruin people's lives

Madoka promised to be there for you to remind you of the person you wanted to be and to stop you from becoming what you sought to destroy

Madoka made that promise and became the very embodiment of it

[bixels]

I'm not getting into The Giving Tree discourse...

[jontaro-kun]

God I love women I wish they were real

[messiahzzz]

the IGN article has already been addressed by several users, but imo the points of critique raised by others were still often misinterpreted, or ignored entirely.

— so i’d like to talk about it.

beforehand, it is important to mention that it remains everyone’s respective responsibility to curate their own online experience. you shouldn’t purposefully expose yourself to topics that cause you distress or trigger you. however, general discussion should always be valid and welcomed. you have every right to voice your opinion on the matter and to be upset about this. please don’t feel guilty about venting and expressing your emotional response.

we also need to differentiate this specific interview from the fandom’s overall treatment and interpretation of gale. several of the posts i’ve seen on the subject tend to derail into the latter, without addressing the valid points many have raised or glossing over them entirely. this isn’t about the usual “haha gale eats shoes” joke or whatever new meme fandom comes up with. this is solely about the developer’s treatment of gale, the character, and about a specific, internal bias that has been prevalent throughout the entirety of the game, as well as their social media. this particular interview merely adding to the amalgamation of points mentioned.

yes, it is certainly unrealistic to expect larian to address every single companion in detail and to touch on every nuance possible, in an interview that broadly focuses on the game’s narrative and gameplay. there are, however, specific character sections. each companion received a headline that was reflective of their overall character archetype or provided quick insight into their development.

Karlach: 'The Labrador of the Party'

Lae'zel: 'She's So Young'

Halsin: 'A Creative Risk'

Shadowheart: 'The Jason Bourne'

Wyll: 'We Lost a Little Bit of Narrative Room'

Astarion: 'Much of What He Does Is Out of Fear'

Minthara: 'It's Not a Redemption Arc...But She's Got a Lot of Love'

and last but not least:

Gale: 'The Guy Who Starts Off Annoying Everyone'

what followed was a brief discussion about their respective storylines, each being addressed with a certain level of respect, empathy, and consideration. except for gale. all that was mentioned in regard to his character was the narrative impact of gale’s suicide. talking about the overall logistics of this ending, the visuals of the cutscene, and how, to them, his sacrifice felt like the right ending and how in many ways, it is.

Chrystal Ding, Lead Writer: On a very human level, you have the guy who starts off annoying everyone, he's constantly asking you to give him your most treasured possessions to eat, otherwise he's in trouble, and at the end, he gives himself for the world. Sven Vincke, Founder: And he had the choice already once before where he wasn't ready for it. So it's a very powerful ending, and it comes in different permutations.

gale is the character who is initially annoying companions and players alike. he is verbose, enthusiastic and has a tendency to break out in long-winded rants. he repeatedly asks for your assistance, to help him manage his condition. to spare himself and his surroundings from an untimely, explosive death, he must consume items that you’ve carefully collected. gale is, essentially, a liability. a ticking time bomb. he already had the option to have his life be a meaningful sacrifice, but he wasn’t ready to die yet. now, that the party has reached the end, he has another chance to give himself up for the world.

short after, gale’s section of the interview quickly diverts into a more general discussion about the difficulties of playing as a wizard and other classes.

larian claiming that there is a universal “right ending” in a game with many branching paths and choices very much contradicts the definition of a role-playing game. where it is solely in the player’s hands to decide what direction to take and what outcome they deem to be the right one. moreover, it is important to remember that the interviewees weren’t just any developers, but consisted of two lead writers and larian’s founder himself. some of them industry veterans who are, to an extent, pr-trained. we all know that fandom often sees statements from developers synonymous with word of god. as such, the implications and impact are truly unfortunate.

if larian was referring the SA survivor and stated that “the right ending” for him was to return him to enslavement or to hand him over to the gur. that for all the death and misery he (involuntarily) assisted, his sacrifice would at least grand them a slither of justice.

astarion caused death, perpetuated racism, and now that you have handed him over to the gur hunter, he is offered a chance to give himself back to the world.

it is then deemed the right choice for him because it is the most narratively satisfying/impactful/powerful outcome in the context of the overall story. the majority of us would agree that such would be a rather tactless statement, no? not specifically for mentioning it in relation to astarion as a character or his influence on the narrative — he is fictional, after all, but because of the real-life implications and the very real stigma the affected face. we can't deny that it would be hurtful to irl victims. maybe we would even fault the writing altogether for such biases. after all, why should astarion be the only character whose redemption and healing are considered to be significantly less important in the grand scheme of things?

fiction functions as an abstraction and simulation of our social experience. we are supposed to get invested, to explore the meaning, examine the parallels, or maybe just to enjoy stories for the sole purpose of indulging in the occasional escapism. perhaps a way to temporarily forget about one’s limitations and the prejudices we face. in many ways, chronic pain/impairment, suicidal ideation, and autistic traits appear to be disorders & symptoms that are perhaps less relatable to some, and that they are maybe not as sympathetic to.

it truly would’ve been nice to see larian approach this interview with more professionalism. opting for a simple, diplomatic “actually, there is no right ending. the sheer variation in choices makes such a distinction impossible” would’ve more than sufficed.

this isn’t asking for larian to touch on every nuance possible, in an interview that largely resembled the flow of a regular conversation. it’s about asking for the same level of consideration and care that was granted to the rest of the companions. it’s about addressing gale’s particular brand of trauma with the same level of basic human decency. maybe we even could’ve received some new bits and pieces of insight on gale’s development, rather than the regurgitation of every shallow reddit/tiktok take we’ve seen up to this point. alas..

[lazylittledragon]

right now i'm very torn between "taking critique is important as an artist and it's not an attack on me personally" and "people commenting about my same face syndrome under my posts upsets me an unreasonable amount and i wish they would stop doing it"