#so apologies for it just being images!!
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thoriffix · 2 years ago
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hey!! I had a question about your fic, current hunger! I wanted to know if you could draw what the evil bug looks like? You don't have to haha, I just wanted to see if you had a specific design for it. Your art's so good (and current hunger is literally my favorite thing at thr moment im absorbing every update like a mentally ill vacuum).
ahh first of all tysm!!! :DD im so glad ppl are enjoying it its my baby <3 here is a jay just for you
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as for the bug i cant draw it unfortunately </3 i have tried but creatures are not a strong suit of mine esp not insects BUT i do have an idea of what it looks like, bc its fairly similar to a real centipede! if ur curious ill stick some images under the readmore (cuz. theyre freaky lookin. tw for bug photos!!)
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essentially it is a bigger, bluer, slightly more segmented house centipede!! the whole thing is a deep blue + its got zigzag stripes down its back in a slightly darker blue - size-wise, when it snuck into jays ear it was probably not much longer than a finger? (but proportionally its longer than these photos) and the segments are more pronounced and slightly more bulbous than this
but ultimately, its a house centipede i mentally slapped a coat of paint onto ahfjdjhf (and it eats electricity. and loves to cause shit)
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palskippah · 1 month ago
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Hi! Nimona told him to do a thumbs up (also I hope you get the reference image because I couldn't find it ajkdsad)
There's some mpreg headcanons and drawings under the cut! :D
By the way the limit of images is 30 so I had to make some longer images with comics to save space and put more drawings 😭
-Also, small continuation from the previous drawing:
(I wrote baby album but maybe it should be those albums that people keep of the pregnancy process ajskd)
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-When Ballister first started showing, he was a bit insecure about it, but Ambrosius helped with that, in the romantic sense of worshipping and whatever, but also like this:
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Translation (did my best to see how to translate it sorry sdjksd it works better in spanish)
1 Ballister: I think it's too soon to be getting fat- Ambrosius: You know what else is getting fat? 2 Ambrosius: Who said that
-Ballister goes through the denial of needing new clothes, so imagine him still wearing the stuff he usually wears and Nimona coming from behind and picking at the clothes by his shoulder and going in a high-pitched voice, as if the shirt was talking - I'm tired, boss while Ballister swats her away and say, leave me alone, it still fits me >:(
(it doesn't)
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>Also Ballister absolutely refusing to wear maternity clothes, the only one he got he was like, wearing it and looking very unimpressed, and Ambrosius' like, you don't like it? :( and Ballister says, No. It's ugly as fuck >:(
>So, he just gets bigger shirts and stretch-ier pants and that's it. Also he gets an oversized hoodie and he says that's gonna be his best friend the rest of the pregnancy, and both Nimona and Ambrosius gasp offendedly at that.
So-
Ambrosius (turning to look at Nimona): What the- hey, I am his best friend. Nimona: Course not! You lost that privilege with what happened that one time (she means the movie events, more than five years ago) Ballister: Ambrosius' my best friend, Nimona. Ambrosius: HAH >:D Nimona: Aw :( Ballister: Because you're my sidekick :) Nimona: :D Ambrosius: Hey, what now- that sounds better than best friend :(
-Ballister during most of the pregnancy is like, woo baby :) but at the very last months he's at least half of the time pissed off, tired and done with being pregnant.
(my incredible math skills in the next point)
>70% of that time he's mad at Ambrosius (who made him pregnant), 20% mad at Nimona (who consciously (and sometimes unconsciously) gets on his nerves) and the remaining 10 he's pissed off at Baby (and he gets sad about that one, because he's just a baby, so he redirects it at Ambrosius instead 😔)
>Ambrosius does his best to be of help but usually there's nothing he can do aside from being there (and sometimes getting out of Ballister's sight, if he's really angry- in the sense of 'I don't even want to see you now')
>Most of the time Ballister just cools off.
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-Also Ambrosius giving him massages, sometimes randomly on his shoulders or his feet, and sometimes something more elaborated, like Ballister laying down and him using body oil, setting the ambient and all to massage his back (and Ballister almost always falls asleep in those).
>Sometimes tho he just does a 'chop chop chop' at his shoulders (it doesn't do anything besides amusing Ballister and keeping him company)
>Also Nimona said that of course he'd just randomly start chopping Ballister while Ballister does nothing about it, so Ambrosius starts chopping her instead
(made these two drawings with like three weeks of difference ajdkad)
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(N/SFW thingies on the next four points and the next four images)
-Also with that previous point imagine Ballister waking up all angry, and Ambrosius just not knowing what he can do for him to stop being mad, but it turns out that Ballister had just woken up horny and pent-up.
>And once he realizes, he's like Ambrosius... (with intentions of getting some), and Ambrosius is like 🧍? because a second ago Ballister wasn't even looking at him.
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-Also with this, Ballister is just very much hornier now (after the first trimester which was the worst) and Ambrosius doesn't mind at all - except when his jaw gets sore or he's running late for work because they lost track of time and also other situations ajsdks but usually he's delighted.
>(In the drawing Ballister just crossed one leg over the other once he heard Ambrosius coming in, because he can't maintain the position too long without getting uncomfortable sdjksj)
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-Whenever Ballister is like >:c and looking in Ambrosius' direction, he immediately assumes that his husband is angry at him.
>Y'know when you look intensely at someone so they feel your gaze and look at you back? Ballister here is trying to apply that, but it doesn't work bc of the previous point askdad
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-I had written sometime (I think) about them blaming Baby on literally anything that has more or less to do with him. If Ballister's crying, if he forgets stuff, if Nimona coddles Ballister too much and pisses him off, if Ambrosius wastes all the cleaning product in two weeks because he had been cleaning too much (he's nesting and realizes that sometime later), if Nimona and Ballister eat the weirdest stuff that at least he wouldn't eat in normal circumstances- and a long etc.
-During Ballister's pregnancy, Nimona works the most she had ever worked in her existence (in the biscuit factory):
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-Both Nimona and Ambrosius are the most supportive c: yippie. Supportive husband/best friend and supportive sidekick/friend/sibling/etc
>An example would be of Ballister being tired, and if the time allows, the other two will immediately suggest a nap.
>Their collective naps usually last hours and they wake up disoriented, sweaty, with drool and the sheets marked on their faces.
>Also they wake up almost always stacked, Nimona always under the other two.
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Translation
Nimona and Ballister: (snoring) Ambrosius: Fuck- what year is it? (tries to lift himself up)
-Also Nimona is the self-assigned pregnancy pillow, and at first Ballister had refused to let her do that, but as a sidekick she took it upon herself to make sure that her boss was comfy and could sleep well - and Ballister reminded her that that's not what sidekicks are for. She said, fuck off I'll do it anyways >:c
>Anyways he sleeps great with her help and earns himself a huge told you so from Nimona.
>I had written a thingy where just when she woke up she was like good morning boss :D while Ballister also said good morning and she hugged him while pushing Ambrosius away, even out of bed. I can't remember where I left it but once I find it, I'll see if it's good for posting pipipi Also Ballister and Ambrosius are corny husbands
>Also here I drew my vague idea of a bear bc I was too lazy to look for Nimona bear references sowwy
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-Nimona sometimes shapeshifts into Ballister to make fun of him.
(This one joke gets lost in translation which is a shame but I'm gonna share the comic anyways sdjs)
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>(She's messing around about names, doing a play in words using Gloreth's name while Ballister is already warning her to stop)
>Nimona urges them to get a name soon because Baby is almost born, and they're like yeah chill we're on it - and they're both sitting on the sofa, with Ballister's legs over Ambrosius' lap, while Ballister goes through their list on his tablet and Ambrosius focuses on giving him a massage on his feet.
They're like-
Ballister: So, Cyril? Ambrosius: No, my horse at the Institute was called that. Ballister: Right, then not that one... What about Casper? Ambrosius: Hmm... no. Ballister: Why not? Ambrosius: I don't know, I just don't really like it. Do you? Ballister: Eh, it's alright, I guess. I don't think Baby looks like a Casper, though Nimona: You don't even know how he looks yet! Ballister: You shut up, kid >:v Ballister: So, what about…
And they're making nearly to none progress but yeah sjdsd
>Also imagine Nimona (as Ballister) imitating what he does now that he's pregnant but x10 times more.
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Translations
1 AUGHH- MY BACK 2 FUCKING AMBROSIUS! 3 Ambrosito? Can you get me a sweet treat? 🥺 4 I'M HUGE WAAA
>And while Ballister is like wtf I don't act like that, he turns to Ambrosius like, do I act like that? 😥 And Ambrosius, who was laughing to himself, goes, well... not so intensely, which is good enough for Ballister.
>But Nimona points out to what Ballister is eating with a mocking smile (and it is weird to be mocked by a version of himself that has a pink strand on his hair, but whatever), and he's like ? what? and realizes that he did ask for a sweet treat almost like Nimona depicted he does, because he did pull the big sparkly eyes and he did call Ambrosius Ambrosito while at it.
>Then he's wondering if he really complains about his back like that (he does, but as Ambrosius said, he isn't so intense about it, usually just holding his lower back and throwing his head back as he winces. Normal)
>(the yelling insults at Ambrosius is definitely not true. But he does throw daggers at him with his eyes when he's angry, he has to admit to himself)
>Now, about crying because he feels huge- yes. Very much true, but he doesn't wail. Just sobs and cries a river like the sensible, serious adult he is.
-Also that thing of knights don't cry and whatever. This one knight does cry, and he cries a lot (at least while he's pregnant).
>He cried once because he dreamt that Nimona was a little spider and even though he warned Ambrosius to be careful, he accidentally crushed her and he woke up not only incredibly sad but also upset with Ambrosius, even though he was aware that it was silly to get mad with him over a dream.
>Nimona was like boss :( while hugging him, and Ambrosius had to scoot a bit away because Ballister didn't even want to look at him as he wept. Ambrosius said a lot of reassuring words of I'm sorry, I think I didn't see her :( while Ballister was like, but I warned you so many times :'[
>Then he was like, I promise you, I'd never hurt Nimona. And Nimona herself said, yeah boss, I'd crush him first, don't you worry about it :) and Ballister said, but I couldn't protect you :''[ while hugging her harder.
>And both Nimona and Ambrosius are (internally) like, ohh, so that's what it's about.
>Anyways, just a bunch of hugging and comforting gets him to feel a little less sad and also Nimona saying, but you're great at protecting me now :D so, there's all that sdjksd
-Sometimes Ballister just breaks down over seemingly the most trivial stuff too (which is usually just the last straw over a bunch of other stuff going on)
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Translation
1 Ambrosius: Balli? What happened? D: Ballister (with one eyeline going up and the other going down): Ambrosito, my eyeline's crooked* *the straw that broke the camel's back (his hair isn't cooperating) (his back hurts) (done) (clothes feel uncomfortable) (the baby won't stay still) 2 Ambrosius (doing Ballister's eyeline): Stay very still, love (focused) 3 (they're in front of the mirror) Ballister (laughing his ass off): BUT HOW DID YOU MAKE IT EVEN MORE CROOKED?! Ambrosius (embarrassed): Aw Ballister (holding his belly): Ow, Baby, don't kick me, sorry, sorry! I'll stay still now-
>(Y'know when a pregnant person laughs the baby inside gets all shaken skdsd I find it funny, so imagine Baby being like ??!! because Ballister keeps laughing too hard and shaking him all around and his kicks are like him going, stay the fuck still D:<) (Ballister's still weepy but now he's crying with laughter, which is better than him crying from being overwhelmed)
-Also Ballister's very scared of giving birth but he's very good at pretending that Baby will simply materialize in his arms rather than him having to push him out.
(Drawings based over this)
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Translation
1 Ballister happy because his baby is almost born 2 (Remembers that he has to give birth to him)
-The day that he was in labor and all, imagine the water just breaking and stuff and Nimona being like 'okay everyone DON'T PANIC' while panicking and also Ballister's panicking too (Ambrosius' at work and when he's told he also panics and arrives at the hospital in record time still wearing his armor. The power of first-time father panic)
(But someone gotta be not panicking in the situation, so Ambrosius calms the fuck down and becomes the calming presence that Ballister can rely on c: also Nimona calms down too and goes back to being herself and is very good at distracting Ballister while he goes through contractions and the hours before pushing.)
>Also y'know how in TV sometimes someone else imitates the pregnant person's breathing exercises by going huff huff huff quickly ajsdkjd
>Also Ballister going Nimona what about the bags and also don't carry me there?! and her going shit right and ignoring the second half, then returning for the bags and grabbing them, all while holding Ballister like a doll (a doll with a little doll inside SJDS pregnant barbie)
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En español pensaba que fuera = AYÚDENLO, SE LE SALE LA WAWA - NIMONA DEJA DE HACER SHOW
-Wrote a lil something about Baby's birth and Ballister going through kinda a rollercoaster of emotions because at the very beginning of the pushing stage he almost had a panic attack, but then everyone in the room helped him calm down, and when he thought everything was going great, the doctor offered Ambrosius to receive their baby, and of course his husband was very excited about it and said yes, getting dressed up in the medical gown, the facemask, the gloves and all that.
(Initially everything after that was supposed to go swiftly, but I thought, no, what if Ambrosius faints like some dads do? and after watching a TikTok of a woman whose partner did faint and they had to pause her birth to hold him up because he was like over 6 feet tall, I was like hell yeah that's it)
>When Ambrosius finally got between Ballister's legs to look, his blood pressure went the fuck down. And since he's pretty tall and the nurse that tried to catch him was pretty short, the other one had to join in and then the doctor too to avoid him slamming on the ground. The thing was that Ambrosius was clearly fighting very hard against unconsciousness, giving the three people holding him false hope about him finally holding his own weight, making them almost drop him multiple times.
>Sensibly, the situation was kinda scary, because the three people assisting his baby's birth were busy trying to hold his husband from fainting. Said husband was clearly fighting with everything he got to keep himself conscious, and Ballister could very much feel his baby crowning.
>But seeing three short people trying to hold Ambrosius up and yelping when they almost dropped him several times, and remembering that Ambrosius had been so excited about it but hadn't been able to even stand the view, and feeling pretty nervous because his main emotional support couldn't even keep himself awake-, made him crack up.
>So, he's laughing out loud and going every once in a while, owfuck- because it still hurts like a bitch, while the other three keep going, YOU'LL DROP HIM. BE CAREFUL, SIR?? SIR, CAN YOU HEAR ME? and Ambrosius' like, yea- (faints again)
>(they're well aware that they gotta deliver the baby, so they're doing their best to hurry Ambrosius to get out of the way)
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>The whole thing had made Ballister's body feel weak from the laughter, and he had to try and calm down to have strength again and push the baby out.
>As you'd guess, Ambrosius didn't receive their baby, and had to sit down and eat something sweet to not faint again, but he managed to stay on his feet well enough to cut the umbilical cord yippie.
>So anyways, Baby out, wrapped and all that, Ballister kept laughing more quietly about it and saying that they should mark the date in the calendar to celebrate Ambrosius fainting over almost delivering their baby. And Ambrosius' like hmm, I don't know Balli, maybe we could use this date for our son's birthday, don't you think? and Ballister's like OH RIGHT and now started laughing at himself.
I keep thinking of new stuff that contradicts what I already have posted, sowwy
>Imagine Ambrosius practically begging Ballister to not tell Nimona, while the other says she'd love to know but also is aware that she'd never let Ambrosius live it down, so he agrees on not telling her. Both eventually tell both Nimona and Baby when the latter is older and inquired about his birth, and indeed, Nimona loved the anecdote, and never let Ambrosius live it down, since then.
-Ideas about Nimona infiltrating the room in the form of a nurse after Baby is born and blowing up her cover when she commented on the baby's nose being just like Gol- Mr. Goldenheart's. And also, his hair being black like Bo- Mr. Goldenheart's.
>At the beginning when they had been admiring their baby, Ambrosius had said, he got your hair D': pipipi (he cried the second Baby got placed in his arms, got a drawing of that but I don't like how it came out wah, Ambrosius' wearing a facemask and being all tear-eyed pipipi) and Ballister had said, he got your nose :D but Ambrosius had said no? that's just a baby's nose, how can you even tell. But after Nimona commented on it, Ballister's saying told you so, it's your nose, while Ambrosius' like, Mr. Goldenheart could be either of us (both smiling amusedly because Nimona's too silly and they clearly know it's her, but she's all idk who's Nimona?)
-Also, I don't know how to make that work with the idea that when she got kicked out to the hall for the pushing bit, she went to steal some flowers and balloons with 'it's a boy!' on them for Ballister. But anyways, I'll write that bit too.
-Also this is Goldenheart with their baby, and I drew it a while back but realized that I don't like it anymore, so I'll do a redrawing someday sdjksd
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>Imagine that Ambrosius was in the hospital bed with Baby while Ballister was getting ready so they could leave to their home, and Nimona said pictures timeee and then took that pic, with Ballister pointing at Baby and being all :D Also, Ambrosius looked pretty good and all, and Ballister was all unshaven face, kinda messy hair, the hospital band with his name still wrapped on his wrist as he pointed at Baby, and yet there were some people online that were like ??! Ambrosius Goldenloin Goldenheart was pregnant??
>And the people that knew even if a little bit about the Goldenheart's life, and also because they still went out and whatever, were like ? no? didn't you see Ballister like, a week ago? (Where he was very obviously pregnant and Ambrosius clearly wasn't sdjkdj)
>Every once in a while, Nimona would remember about this and repost it again, even after Baby is much older.
And that's it! If you read till here, bless you ajsdkadj
I've got more stuff about mpreg, both written and drawn, so I hope to make another post like this sometime, they're very fun to make :D
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potatobugz · 10 months ago
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bleeh bleh bleh
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sc0lippi · 7 months ago
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(sighs) i miss my wife, dale. i miss her a lot.
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zxal · 7 months ago
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Dennis McField Apology Tour
Bonus:
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nattousan · 9 months ago
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when
whe you, when You were just trying to put i n some extra effort to try adn improve yoursel f and it got misinterpreted as malicious n u get yell ed at
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spotaus · 1 month ago
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New Age AU (Bad Dreams)
Woah!! Bet you guys weren't expecting this one!!! (<- no but fr Idk if this one was even a drabble I mentioned wanting to do to anyone besides Ancha lmao-)
Regardless, here's a drabble that takes place a few months after Dream's exile!
(Hello @ancha-aus @papiliovolens and @mutzelputz !!!)
It was quiet.
So dreadfully quiet.
The stone walls felt suffocating, and the darkness was too overwhelming. Even the light of his own magic wasn't enough to ward off the sickly feeling crawling up his spine and over his shoulders.
Roaving like clammy hands, clinging to his bones and threatening to drag him away.
He couldn't take this anymore.
It took effort, one hand over the other, eyes on the rest of the room he'd been placed in for now. One bed instead of two. His legs felt like jelly as he tugged them over the edge.
His feet landed in his sandals not a moment later, and he shoved away from the soft mattress which felt nothing like his own.
Hid eyelights lingered on the bottom of the frame. The shadow there, not reached by the little orb of emotion which hovered beside him, providing light to the barren room.
Perhaps, he feared something would crawl out of those shadows. Tendrils. Pointed and waving. Grasping. Creeping along the floor.
He took a shaking breath.
Another.
He had to at least be able to breathe.
Dream's legs carried him unceremoniously to one of the chairs located in the room where he'd abandoned his cloak.
It was too big on him, the gold and yellow meant for the form the prophecy would have provided him with. He'd taken it with him anyways.
He tugged it over his shoulders, abd the heavy weight smothered him. In a way, it warded off that chill. Just enough to give him the courage to hurry to the door and slip outside.
The hall felt colder than the room.
And almost quieter.
It was nothing like home. With servants and guards bustling about at all hours. With the gentle hum of his mother's magic pulsing through the walls. With his brother's-
No.
He couldn't think about that now.
He padded along through the empty halls. He still shook, but the longer he was in motion the more momentum he gained.
Dream moved swiftly through these unfamiliar and unfriendly halls, until he arrived at a familiar door.
A servant entrance, which he had only noticed because he'd heard horses somewhere beyond as it briefly opened during his first tour. He hated to use it, but he knew guards would be at the main exits.
So, carefully, he entered the space which held it.
A kitchen, of sorts. Piled high with the dishes yet to be cleaned, and with food stores which would last an army a century, tucked away into every shelf.
A part of him wondered what they even did with so much hidden away, but to be honest, he didn't care enough.
He pushed through the door with little effort, and felt a sense of relief rush over him as his sandals landed in damp, earthy grass.
A glance down revealed it had been stamped over hundreds of times by weary servants, so it was flat and lame, but he didn't let that bother him much. He was outside again.
Dream had been feeling suffocated in that stupid building. Out here it felt like that horrid shadow, haunting him, knew not to tread too closely in his wake.
The wind tugged at his overly-large cloak as he stood there a moment. The door swung shut behind him.
The sky, the stars, he felt like he was saying hello to an old friend met in a distant place.
Only a moment later he shook his skull free of his momentary relief. He had to keep moving. Had to do this now.
His eyelights skimmed the dark, and he extinguished his orb. The moon was more than bright enough to illuminate the place he was searching for.
The stables.
As he traversed the open lawn, he noticed. It too was different from the one he knew so well. It was smaller, and had closed outer walls. The doors were huge, and seemed to swing out like any other door. It would not slide like his own used to.
As he reached the entrance, he gently tugged it open. It gave way easily, and he slipped in, expecting to be plunged into the darkness of yet another enclosed building.
Yet... inside it seemed only a bit more shadowed.
The stalls were largely swathed in darkness, but a thin strip of light illuminated the alley between each part of the stalls. There was a skylight above, open air, that was letting the moonlight filter down.
The way it fell, it might's been just past midnight.
Dream moved forward, carefully and quietly. He didn't want to startle the horses. Most of them seemed to be resting just like the rest of the castle. Last thing he needed was to startle one of them.
While he needed to find one awake to keep going, maybe it was better that he not find one. Maybe...
Nope.
Fate must adore him.
There, a few stalls ahead, a movement. Through the space, a horse's head suspended from its thick neck extended majestically into the moonlight nearing its stall.
It seemed to shift, to get a look at him, before settling.
Dream was gentle in his approach, but fast. His hands were shaking now as he approached the horse.
A beautiful, clean white. Little freckles of blond dotting its muzzle and forehead. It was gorgeous.
It stayed still as Dream came close and reached out his hands. They trembled, and he wished he'd worn his gloved. He hated to see his bare bones in the moonlight.
The horse softly nuzzle its nose into his hand.
And sneezed.
Dream squeaked in surprise, recoiling away a bit. He tried to stay calm, if only to keep the horse from panicking, but it just snorted as it stared at him.
Of course he'd get horse-snot on his bare hands, and-
"Excuse you, miss." Came a playful, full voice.
Dream, this time, was less calm.
Why was there a voice? Who was down here?
His emotions must've broadcasted. As he stepped backwards into the moonbeam, the mare whinnied and realed back nervously, and there was a hum of surprise from within the stall.
Frozen in place, he watched as a faint movement, aside from the large shadow of the horse, rose from inside the stall.
Glowing.
Eyes turned to him. Eyelights, like his, a wide and curious sky blue.
And then they drew closer, and where the mare once extended her neck to him, now stood a monster he starkly recognized.
"Oh, Prince Dream?" It was Blue, the squire of the knight who'd been assigned to watch over Dream, "What a surprise! I wasn't expecting to find anyone else up so late, is there anything I can do to assist you?"
Blue was smiling. Dream could taste it. His confusion, which was quickly overtaken by a general joy.
The skeleton wasn't dressed down at all, despite presumably having been knelt in a horse's pen for some reason. His squires armor, largely padded and cloth, hung well on his frame, and part of Dream wished he could see more that just the Knight's arms and shoulders peeking over the stall door along with his skull.
"I- I wasn't expecting anyone to be up tonight either." He replied, dumbly, "I was- was just taking a stroll. Couldn't sleep."
It was a weak excuse. An excuse literally anyone could see through-
"Ah, I see!" Blue's voice cut off his thoughts before they could run away, "You know, you should really try the tea that my master drinks before bed. It always knocks him out, cold turkey!"
Dream was... bewildered.
Blue turned away from him for a moment, disappearing into the shadows of the stall, but his voice did not hesitate.
"I'm sure he wouldn't mind sparing a bit for you, Prince Dream! After all, it's our job as knights and knights-to-be to care for our benefactors!"
Dream could hear a bit of movement behind his words, and a few moments later Blue returned to the front of the stall. He used one arm to support himself as he hopped over the small gate, the mare trailing in his wake to watch once again.
He seemed entirely unphased, carrying tools in his other hand, moving to a hanging leather bag hung on a nail in one of the support beams and dumping the items inside.
"If you like, I could escort you back inside and make you a cup?"
Blue was still speaking, with little hesitation.
Dream felt like the squires voice was rattling around in his skull. An overwhelming amount of sound for the quiet he'd just arrived from, and quite different from the sounds he'd been searching for.
Like the chirping of bugs, the sounds of rustling leaves, the pounding of a horse's hooves heavy on the ground as he made his daring escape from this place he did not know.
"Ah, Prince! It seems Marigold managed to get you a bit dirty, I apologize on her behalf!" Blue was a lot closer. "Please, allow me!"
A lot closer.
Dream flinched as he felt soft, worn gloves cup his palms from underneath.
His focus had been far off, elsewhere, but now he watched as the skeleton a bit shorter than him gently used a clean rag he must've grabbed to towel away the remnants of the horse's gunk left on his hands.
Blue was entirely focused on his task, and Dream felt entranced by the action. It felt like his non-existant gut was attempting to mimic a writhing snake.
When Blue finally seemed content, he hummed and grinned to himself.
Even through is thick gloves, Dream had been close enough. To taste it. There was not a single hint of malice lingering in this squires soul. He was so sweet. Unbearably so. He'd barely met any souls with such a pure slate of emotions laid bare.
"P-prince Dream?! Are you alright? I'm- I'm so sorry, did I grab your hands too hard?" Blue's voice once again dragged him back to reality.
A tinge of fear in the air, and the cold rapidly claiming his hands once again.
He looked away from his hands, now abandoned by the squire who'd been keeping them warm. He had backed up by a few paces, and had his head bowed, but Dream could still see his skull was tilted. An eyelight observing him.
Guilt.
Why...
Dream all at once pulled his hands up to his cheekbones. His freezing fingertips gently rimmed the bottom edge of his sockets, and all at once he understood.
He'd started crying. Like a weakling.
He knew this feeling all too well. The tears which used to come to him when Nightmare would be sent back to his own bed by their mother. When she found Night comforting him after a night terror. His aura was always so calming.
He hadn't had Night at all, lately. Maybe that was why he hadn't shed tears yet. Until tonight, of course.
"No- no. It's nothing you did." Dream hurried to say, though he hated his voice for warbling.
He tucked his hands tightly into his cloak, and took a single shaking breath.
And then stepped to the side, and sunk down against the stall gate of the mare named Marigold.
She didn't startle as the wood shifted under Dream's weight, and settled again against the tick hay coating the bottom of the stall.
In this moment, Dream didn't care how bad it smelled, or how dirty he was getting his perfect coronation cloak, or anything. He didn't care that his perfect white bones were digging into old, splintered wood, or that his cheekbones pressed to damp planks.
He didn't care about the squire who saw.
Dream knew he couldn't risk going back to the castle, sockets full of tears. Not like this. So he'd have to fry it out here and risk the squires rumor mill in the morning.
He sniffled as he let the cold sink into the thin silk cloth which covered his legs, closing his sockets miserably in the darkness.
He heard boot-steps, and sunk a bit lower into himself as they drew softly nearer.
Though, they stopped a short distance away, and the weight of the gate shifted again, as sonething denser leaned against it.
Marigold snorted in what Dream imagined was annoyance, and he heard her hooves disappear somewhere deeper into shadow.
.
It was silent as Dream let his tears flow. Shoulder dug into his cheek, folded in on himself like a sort of ragdoll. Sniffles were the only thing which broke that awkward quiet.
But this silence too, was deeply uncomfortable. It was as though his moments of peace were little more than ploys to administer more distress into his mind.
The moment he could no longer stand his self-imposed quiet, he shifted.
And squinted in the darkness.
And found that, just before him, was the side of that squire.
There, back pressed to the stall door, sat Blue. He wasn't looking at Dream. The prince noticed that in one hand he held hid signature weapon, that comically large Warhammer. His eyes seemed focused, skimming the stalls. Watching over Dream's form to the doors far from where he'd turned his back.
Was... was the squire watching over him?
Normally when he threw a tantrum like this, his sorrow would seep into the air around him. He was able to drive off all the servants and soldiers. Very few would linger. Struck by an intense misery.
"Squire Blue?" Dream's voice felt hoarse and wet, remnants of the emotion that had built up inside him.
The young man's eyelights darted to the side, to look at Dream as he was called.
This time he remained silent, his expression still focused.
Dream knew this was stupid, he- "Why did you stick around?" He asked. "It's your master's duty to babysit me, not yours."
It was true. Only the Knight had orders to watch over him. And Dream knew he didn't much like the job.
For that man, there was no honor in trailing a young monster like Dream. Even if he was the son of Nim, Dream was no longer a crown prince. He was exiled. An outcast.
The question seemed to linger in the air a moment, before Blue's browser furrowed.
"Well, I believe you are sad, and it must be a type of sadness which is very hard to fight away, as you are very strong." He spoke, though the chipper tone was something softer now. Encouraging? "So as you fought your battle, I wished to stay by your side and dissuade any enemies from the outside. I could not abandon you."
He said it as though Dream was really fighting something. Inside himself.
That wasn't it at all. He'd been running away from that thing biting at him. Clawing at his heels and clogging his throat. That made him want to run away and never come back.
"I-" Was he really going to do this? "I had a bad dream, Squire Blue."
He felt like a child, confessing to his nanny that he had broken a vase in the hall.
"My brother used to comfort me, from these terrors. But- but I cannot see him anymore. He-" He choked up again, "People are saying he was jealous of me, when he took the crown, but he wasn't. He was afraid. And he cast me out and exiled me to this place!"
If he weren't so focused on trying to contain his voice, he would've been impressed at how unmoving Blue's face remained, amongst the swarm of emotions breaking through Dream's thinly-kept barrier.
"He was afraid, and I am alone, and this I'd not how it should be! Someone, something, scared him into acting out and sending me away and- and here I am. Crying in a stable like a child due to a bad dream, hundreds of miles away from my twin!"
He threatened to curl in on himself again, but he stopped himself when he saw the way that Blue looked at him. Knowingly.
"You know, it is not nearly the same, but I too am separated from my brother." Blue spoke up. Though, he was smiling?
Dream hummed in confusion, tired from his confession.
"He's younger than me, stayed in our home village as part of the city guard. He's the coolest..." He sounded almost wistful, "When I chose to start my apprenticeship I was told I would have to move away, and live here." He lamented.
Dream hated to taste the bittersweet tang of melancholy wafting softly away from Blue.
"Don't... don't you miss him?" Dream muttered, "Don't you want to run away and be with him again?" That was what Dream would do.
Blue laughed gently, a charming little 'Mweh!' That warmed Dream's soul.
"Of course!" He admitted, "But, my brother was my biggest supporter, and if I don't become a knight, then my time away will have been for nothing."
A brother giving unwavering support. Like Nighty.
"It sounds like you treasure your brother, Prince Dream," Blue said, then, "Might I ask about what you think of him?"
Oh.
That's right.
Since he left, he'd only been piling negative atop negative about his brother, making an impossibly long list in his head.
"My brother..." Dream breathed, almost a whisper. "He was-" He stopped, "is the most devoted, kindest, gentlest soul I've ever known."
He couldn't help but think of when they were children. When they had first gotten their masks, and Nightmare had recieved the smooth, rounded owl face. He'd looked so adorable and kind, lavender eyelights wide with joy.
Dream remembered seeing the grin on his twin's face when he'd let Dream press the cold wood to his own face. No doubt it had been cuter on Nightmare.
"He's so smart... he loves reading, and his studies, and always knew how to help me when I'd make trouble in the castle."
The days when Dream was seven or eight, tripping around the halls at night, wet paint on his new shirt because he'd tripped and nudged a new mural his mother had commissioned. It had been wet.
Nightmare had found him and dragged him back to their room, where he'd pulled the shirt off of Dream and immediately set about cleaning it.
He said he'd watched their babysitter do it a hundred times and he'd learned. Dream had claimed the work was beneath them, but Nighty had shot back, asking if he'd rather be caught with stained clothes by the adults. That was the last thing he'd wanted, so he'd sat and watched Night scrub away at the stain in the tub with a few bottles of who knows what and water until it was practically brand-new. By morning it was dry, as though nothing had ever happened.
"And- and he always knew when I was sad. He'd come sit with me, and we'd hug and- and nothing came between us."
Until that day, of course.
That day when Dream was practicing his speech and Nightmare had rushed into the lounge to stand before him. Nightmare's skull had been sweaty, his eyelights pinpricks. He had a scroll clutched to his chest, and a hunch to his shoulders. He'd been afraid. Dream had tasted it like a sour lemon on his tongue, and had gone on high alert.
Only for Nightmare to start babbling to him. Stammering about the prophecy and a curse and some sort of discovery. A warning.
All that Dream had caught after asking him to slow down, was that Nightmare was begging him not to go through with his coronation ceremony. That he'd found a dire omen in the library about some sort of bloodshed. Some horrible price to pay.
Dream had tried to reassure him. That it was just a mean prank, that he and everyone else would be fine. Perfectly safe.
Nightmare had left the room dejected, practically in tears, and had rushed off. If Dream had known better, he would've gone and hammered it into his twin's skull that the prophecy was safe. That he didn't have to taint his own body to protect Dream from some make-believe threat.
Dream sighed a bit, and raised one hand to his face. He rubbed his palm along his sockets, swiping away magical residue from his tears.
He wasn't any less sad, but it felt less explosive.
"Your twin sounds very nice, Prince Dream. I do understand why you would like to see him again." Blue spoke softly.
His smile was boisterous again, and Dream couldn't help himself from allowing a gentle smile to worm onto his own expression.
"I cannot let you leave, that would not allow me to protect you, but if you wish to talk again, I am often an open ear!" He suggested, "You seem less sad after talking."
Hmm.
This might have been the first time in the history of his life, he realized, that he had someone his age really speak with him.
Blue was different from the noble children and the new guards and servants back home. It was something kind. Perhaps it was that he didn't truly understand just who Dream was. Who he was meant to be.
Maybe- maybe he'd like to keep it that way a bit longer.
"Trying to flee on horseback was a silly idea anyhow." He mused, "Would you be bothered if I still took your offer? For tea, that is?"
The joy that flooded through Blue was almost contagious, and he quickly popped up from where he'd been seated, letting his hammer shimmer away into the air beside him.
Then he turned to dream, and extended a gloved hand to him.
Dream took it after a moment, and he was swiftly tugged to his feet too, shaky as a newborn foal. Cold and damp and smelly.
But Blue didn't seem to notice, nor was he bothered. Not by the dirt that coated Dream's cloak or the smear of mud which had gotten onto his skull.
Blue escorted him back out to the grounds, and Dream saw my the moon that he'd hardly spent an hour in that stable. It was still plenty dark.
As the squire began to move towards the main path, Dream tugged his armor and guided him instead to the little servant door, and Drean was rewarded for his sneaky tactics with another 'Mweh!' of excitement.
Blue held the door, and Dream hurried into the kitchen. Then from there, Blue led them through servant corridors that Dream had never known existed. Blue was careful to check over his shoulder every few steps. Maybe he was worried about losing Dream in the twists and turns?
And then, as though hitting a brick wall, they found themselves in the private barracks of the knights of this realm. For a moment, Dream worried Blue might have to enter his master's room to snatched the tea, but...
There was a little alcove outside of one of the doors, carved into the wall.
'Personal effects' Blue had explained quietly, kept in the hall so servants might have easy access to each Knight's favorite drink or treat.
Dream watched curiously as the knight moved towards the space, and carefully extracted a few leaves from a little jar left outside.
"Will that be enough for two?" Dream muttered, perplexed. It seemed hardly enough for a mouse!
Blue glanced back to Dream in confusion, and the Prince realized he'd jumped the gun. Blue hadn't planned to have any tea, only brew it for Dream.
That... felt odd.
"Mm. Have you ever tried his tea, squire Blue?" He asked quietly instead.
Blue shook his head a bit, "No, I've never had the chance." He didn't seem bothered.
Dream only nodded, and the two hurried away. Out of the knight's wing, back through the servant halls, and into the kitchen where Dream had snuck out through the little door.
There, Blue closed the door to the hall, and after a moment, seemed content to begin moving all sorts of pots and pans to find a kettle.
Dream hadn't ever lingered in a kitchen very long. His babysitter only brought them inside once or twice, always upon Nightmare's request. The kitchen here was much smaller than his own, and was infinitely more cluttered. The organization, or lack there-of, made his hands itch.
It only took a few moments before he lifted himself up to sit atop one if the counters, away from where Blue seemed to be preparing the tea.
He moved with practice around this spot, it'd taken hardly any time at all for him to dig out the worn kettle, and it'd been tucked behind little bottles and containers of who knows what.
He seemed to work the stove just fine as well, the little flames dancing along with the little light their magic provoded to them.
Only when the kettle was set did Blue seem to glance around and spot Dream once again.
He moved a bit closer, leaning against the counter a bit.
"Prince Dream, may I ask a question?" He voiced.
Dream nodded curiously.
"Do you ever do sparring?" Blue asked, then.
That was... not what Dream had expected to be asked of him. He'd had people ask him many things, but never of that.
"I... used to." He said softly.
It was ever so slight, a raise in Blue's shoulders, some sort of little happiness sparking through him.
"I've seen you, stopping by when the knights train! What weapons do you use?" Blue asked then.
Dream suddenly had to find himself smothering the flush which threatened to flood his cheekbones. Yes, he did miss sparring, but often when he was frustrated he would pass by. To get a glimpse at the Knights in their armor, so swift and powerful.
"A bow." He said, maybe a bit too hastily. "I mean... I was formally trained in swordplay, staffs, and spears, but Archery has always come easiest to me."
He was so absorbed in his thought that he almost missed the way Blue's eyelights grew bigger. Almost.
Dream allowed a smirk to cross his face, and he held his hands out before him.
His little, pearly white, hands trembled. The joints glowed a soft golden color, and it all drew out, to his fingertips. After a moment, the glow condensed, and swirled, and tightly wove into a longbow.
The bow itself was a pale white, but much like his castle, it appeared to be made of old, twisting vines and branches.
"Where is the string?" Blue's curious tone asked, and Dream was only a bit startled to find the squire so close to him now, examining the weapon.
"It's only tangible in use with my magic." Dream explained softly.
Running a hand along the space, his finger caught, and a ripple of yellow glow moved down a thick, invisible string.
Impulsively, Dream imagined, Blue stuck his gloved hand right into the space beneath where Dream had just touched. There was nothing for him to grasp.
"Wowie... that's an impressive weapon, Prince Dream! You are very skilled, that must've taken ages to craft!" Blue said, pulling his hand back as though nothing had happened.
Dream stared at it a moment, but caught himself before claiming it was an easy feat.
He'd made the bow itself no problem, but the string... they could never withhold the power of his magic. They would snap and send him reeling.
Once, a broken string had swung back and cracked against his chin. He'd bled, and all of the guard had panicked about his wellbeing. He'd been young still, and had been so startled he thought they were yelling at him. Not about him.
After that, mother had insisted he learn to channel his magic precisely. Learn to use it with an easy perfection.
"Yes, it took me some time to perfect." Dream agreed solemnly.
It seemed Blue was going to say something else, but there was a loud whistle from the stove, and the squire jolted and hurried back to tend to it.
Dream watched from afar, letting his bow disappear once more, as Blue seemed to ready a singular teacup.
Once it was finished, he carried both it, and the saucer, very carefully over to Dream's countertop perch. He offered it up to the prince, with a gentle warning of, 'hot'.
Dream took it carefully, and held it under his face. The warmth rising from it was comforting, and the smell was nice. Unfamiliar. And for once he enjoyed it.
Dream blew on the surface of the tea, making it ripple like some dark ocean, before he impatiently brought it to hid mouth.
It was hot, as Blue had warned, but not scalding. He held it in his jaw for a moment, lingering on the taste, before swallowing it down.
He took another sip. Then hummed.
"Squire Blue, will you take a sip of this? Tell me what you think?" He then offered the cup to Blue.
The squire seemed startled, but only for a moment before nodding in determination. He gently took the teacup from Dream, and tipped it so he too could take a sip.
Dream watched his face, and aa the heat subsided, Blue's expression scrunched. He seemed like he was trying to decide whether to spit it out or drink it.
The prince couldn't contain his laughter as it seemed Blue resigned himself to swallowing it. He held the cup back out to Dream in some sort of defeat.
"It's gross, isn't it?" Dream asked through his little fit of giggles. He cupped the tea back into his own hand, and watched as Blue seemed to try and outlast the awful taste surely lingering in his mouth.
"Y-yes, it is! I have never tasted something like that before, I apologize, Prince Dream." He said almost despairing.
Dream just shook his head, "No fault of yours! This appears to be some sort of black tea. Magical, probably." Dream explained, almost fond of the horrible cup of tea.
This was probably the first time he'd found such a thing funny.
If anything, his obvious joy at the situation seemed to let Blue relax a bit again.
Both of them had now experienced the horribly bitter taste of a Knight's favorite coffee, and now they were both complicit in deciding that it was nasty.
Dream let himself giggle again, and brought the cup back up to his mouth.
Almost like a shot, Dream downed the remainder of the liquid. Though it made him shudder a bit under its bitter flavor, the warmth did well to bring a heat to his ribs he hadn't had all night.
When he set the cup and saucer beside himself, he found Blue staring at him, as though he had something on his face.
(He did, it was mud, but Blue was not looking at it.)
"Prince, if it tastes bad, why would you finish it?" Blue asked in confusion.
Dream just shrugged a bit, "I think of the tea as a gift. Even if I do not enjoy it, it means something special to someone else, so it would be rude to waste it." He said simply.
Blue seemed to linger on that for a moment, before seeming to double-down on his concentrated expression. Then, all at once, he grinned.
"I know that you are a Prince, but I think that you would also make a very noble knight!" Blue asserted, before he scooped up the cup and set it aside on the counter.
He seemed to debate the sink, before noticing the piles of other dishes and simply sighed softly.
Dream popped away from the counter, landing on his feet with a tired yawn. His hand raised to cover the action, but Blue caught sight of it and burst into action, moving to Dream's side at an alarming efficiency.
"Prince Dream, if you are tired, then allow me to escort you back to your room!" He insisted.
Dream couldn't help but agree.
As they walked, a part of him wished that he could beg Blue to talk with him until the sunrise, and then stay up all over again the next night. He hadn't felt so comfortable in ages.
But, they had their places.
When the sun rose, Dream would have to be a proper prince again. Take a bath, send his robes to be cleaned, speak with the nobles here, try drafting another letter back home, and rot in the foreign place.
And Blue would have to go back to toting around that knight's swords and armor polish and make him that sickeningly bitter tea on command.
Dream wondered if Blue was even getting any real training, or if he was a glorified servant. He wasn't sure he'd ever seen the young man use his war hammer during training.
Though, all of these thoughts would have to wait.
The bland door to his room arrived, and Blue bowed and bid him farewell.
Dream entered the dark space for the second time that night, slipped off his sandals, and collapsed cloak and all onto his bed. Too exhausted to be afraid of dancing shadows.
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shizuart · 8 months ago
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ok i sincerely apologise if this is going to get weird i just have to get this off my chest
OH MY FUCKING GOD your ratiorine under the rain art. i think it singlehandedly altered my brain chemistry Forever
the fucking SMILE on aventurine's face?? and the brand on his neck and the way he's holding his jacket to prevent rain from soaking him???? and he's slightly beaten up and has these cuts and bruises but he's still smiling with his FUCKING pretty eyes?????????
we can't even see ratio's expression clearly but like?????????? UGHHH??? THE way he's looking at aventurine??? like he's almost surprised???
you fucking KILLED it with this art. oh my god. I'll Never recover
aahh thank you very much! it was initially just a practice piece but i am very happy to know it touched you so! i appreciate the kind words :'D
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pokimoko · 11 months ago
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Listening to instrumentals from the silly doo-wee-ooo show is actually something that can be so painful.
#doctor who#doctor who music#murray gold#segun akinola#musings about music#this is specifically about 10's theme in vale decem. the long song in 11's regen piece. and clara's theme in face the raven / clara's diner#i get psychic damage everytime i simply hear the use of the motifs elsewhere because of the tragic associations those sadder renditions hav#obviously these songs aren't the only examples in doctor who but they are by far the most emotionally devastating ones for me personally#and obviously it isn't just leitmotifs either. basically hearing any piece that played during a sad scene gets to me.#how are you supposed to explain to your coworkers that you're tearing up because of instrumental sound association?#'yeah sorry these violins and humming sounds summoned vivid images of my favourite character dying/leaving and it made me sad'#love that composers can just straight up pavlov bell your emotions by getting you to associate a melody with a sad scene#an addition to this is doctor who instrumentals that make me nostalgic because I associate them with my own past#like 'this is gallifrey: our childhood. our home'. that song was one of my alarms for a good long while back when i was 15ish#so it kinda transports me back to that time in my life whenever i hear it. music really is its own little kind of time travel#i am very much looking forward to the continuing psychological damage murray gold will inflict upon me in the new season#and to have previously uplifting character leitmotifs used against me and forever be contaminated with sad feelings. love to see it#(also: not a instrumental but damn 'the stowaway' has no right being as good as it is. who knew a christmas sea shanty could sound so great#apologies for this probably niche-ish post (is it niche to know ost title's by heart? asking for friend). just feeling things about music
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missholoska · 2 years ago
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remembered this ask from last year and felt like doodling flowey and his weird fluffy skeleton sister 🌻✨
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astraystayyh · 1 year ago
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it's been nearly three months since we went through an earthquake and each night when i go to bed i still feel the bed shaking underneath and i have to stand up and stare at my lamp to see if im just imagining things. i didn't even realize that the earthquake, which lasted for a mere minute, affected me this much until this started happening. so i can't even imagine the psychological repercussions that people in Palestine now face
to wake up to the sound of bombs everyday, to know that nowhere is safe, that there is nowhere to hide, to go to sleep not knowing if you'll still be alive tmrw, to write your name on your arm so that ppl would be able to identify you. all of this will leave such horrible horrible mental scars on all Palestinians i can't imagine the fear and the dread and the anxiety they must feel rn. my heart breaks for all of them it's horrible all of this is
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good-to-drive · 6 months ago
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The thing is that none of the beatles could be trusted to water your house plant for a week. They'd all accidentally kill it, the difference among them lies in whether they would a) admit what they did and apologize, b) replace it with a near-identical plant and try to gaslight you into thinking it's the same one, c) try to convince you the plant died of natural causes and it wasn't their fault, or d) skip town and start a new life in a new country and never speak to you or anyone else from their old life ever again.
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felikatze · 2 years ago
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Grima: One Guy In Two Trenchcoats
Let‘s establish: Is Robin possessed or not? Well, I argue…. no.
There‘s a huge difference between one character being controlled by another with no agency in their actions, and someone struggling against their own conflicting nature. Personally, the latter allows for much more depth on Grima‘s part, instead of „ohhh poor Robin :(„
On that question, Robin certainly believes they‘re the same being. Future Past Robin, that is.
Welcome, to Grima apologism hours, in which i do not repent, and overanalyze how my favorite maggot is Complex, actually.
Fire Emblem Awakening‘s Future Past DLC allows a glimpse into an alternate future destroyed by Grima, one extremely similar but ever so slightly different than the one Lucina hails from.
In the „bad end“ of the DLC, achieved if any of the future children (excluding Lucina) die before defeating Grima in Future Past 3, Grima and Lucina hold an extended conversation that gives us a lot of perspective on Grima.
Wherein before Grima shrouded his vessel in shadow, those shadows have lifted and Lucina comes to slowly recognize Robin. She asks if Robin can be saved somehow if Grima is defeated, and very much believes them to be distinct beings. At this moment of Grima‘s weakness, Robin can „shine through“ and speak their own desires without Grima‘s influence, or so it seems.
Robin disagrees.
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Lucina: You‘re human, aren‘t you- a person, like us? Grima is using you to-
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Grima: ...I am Grima! There is nothing human about me!
Lucina: …..
Grima: ...I have always been the fell dragon… since the day I was born…
There we have it, right from the horse‘s mouth.
Lucina is convinced she is talking to Robin, and I‘d agree. Compared to Grima‘s usual behaviour, Robin is much calmer, and speaks more rationally. In addition, their text is formatted different. Grima‘s speech is peppered with bold and bright red text to highlight his wrath, whereas Robin‘s speech features many ellipses, likely to punctuate their fading strength.
And yet, the speech associated with Robin „taking back control“ has them directly admit to being the fell dragon. Previously in this scene, Robin also blames themself for the harm brought to the world.
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Grima: „… I snuffed out the very Voice of the divine dragon… and I just finished killing the friends you sent for the Gemstones…“
[...]
„Don‘t you hate me? I‘m the cause for all of this.“
Robin takes responsibility in the first person. If they were truly possessed in this instance, they‘d shift the blame to Grima, but they do not.
Even Naga acknowledges that it was the fell dragon that teleported Chrom and Robin from the main game to safety, an action we‘d associate with Robin thwarting Grima‘s control to keep their friends safe.
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Go King get that Dissonance!
Naga: „Hm? The fell dragon returned you here… Is everything all right?“
What do I mean by „dissonance“? Well, I‘ve said that Robin admits they and Grima are one being. There are many points where Grima doesn‘t, however. And that‘s like, weird, right. I mean, Future Past Grima does this too, when I‘ve been using Future Past Robin as proof.
I think we all remember the famous “the man who owned this body” line.
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But let‘s point out when Grima does this. To taunt others. In Future Past, Grima brings up Robin‘s love for Chrom to enrage Lucina, and in the maingame, it precedes the final battle, too, though more indirectly, as Grima asks Robin to “join them.” It solidifies Grima‘s appearance as the big bad who must be killed, all typical FE antagonist trash talk, really. Gets you rearing to kill this guy!
Which might be the point.
It‘s an oddity that Grima wants Robin to be remembered fondly. And it‘s a recurring one. Remember how Grima will differentiate between themself and Robin, but Robin won‘t?
On the final map, Grima offers Robin the chance to give themself up in exchange for the Shepherd‘s lives. No matter what you choose, battle commences regardless.
But….
If Robin refuses Grima:
Robin: Do you think me a fool? You'll kill them anyway!
Grima: ...Well, of COURSE I would. I only thought you might want to leave your comrades with a heroic, selfless image. ...But so be it. Leave them with the final memory that you were their undoing!
And if Robin accepts Grima:
Robin: First, let my friends go... You promised to spare them.
Grima: Oh come now, we both knew that was never going to happen... But I am not altogether cruel... I did spare you the pain of damning them openly.
Robin: You…
Grima: In truth, I simply don't understand why you care so deeply for the creatures... No matter. Your soul is mine now; you cannot escape. Your mind will descend into the shadow of my own!
„I only thought you might want to leave your comrades with a heroic, selfless image.“ Grima is offering for Robin to martyr themself, and for Grima to be the undisputed villain of this story. It‘s the same thing that happened with Morgan. Morgan doesn‘t remember Grima, only the kind and caring Robin.
This leads me to believe that Grima‘s theatrics, the whole „I am the breath of ruin and the wings of despair“-spiel, is a mask.
In Future Past, Grima knows they need to die. Future Past Grima basically admits to being suicidal. Just look at the bad ending!
Grima: ...Don't you hate me? ...I'm the cause of all of this... ...If it weren't for me, you would never have had to take up the sword... ...You and your loved ones would be living in peace... ...I am to blame for everything... ...You must destroy me, Lucina…
And furthermore… in the Future Past 3 good ending, before Lucina strikes the final blow, Grima turns into a green unit.
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For just a second. And then they‘re dead.
Grima: ...At last...I can rest... ...No one else...will suffer... ...because of me... ...Thank...you... ...I hope your lives are...filled... ...with...joy... ...... ...... ...Morgan...please forgive me... ...I put you through...so...much... ...... ......
Grima, Robin, desperately wishes they weren‘t Grima. That Robin is all there was. They wish so badly that they could just stay with the Shepherds, with the people they love. And they love so much. They still love Chrom, they still love Morgan, but Grima needs to die for the world to be saved.
But if Grima makes themself into a big bad villain with no redeeming qualities, if Grima taunts and riles up, then maybe everyone will forget that they‘re Robin, too. And everyone can remember Robin fondly. Robin is the human part of Grima, and who they wish to be.
What does it mean for Grima to follow Lucina back in time? It's as Naga said; only Grima's own power can end him for good. If Robin never awakened, Grima's power would remain in the world, sealed inside the Dragon's Table for eternity, or perhaps, until another reincarnation of Grima came along. Instead, Grima takes that power onto himself (so Robin does not, cannot),with just enough left to end it all. Grima knows that he must die.
There are some very notable moments when Grima does call himself and Robin one. However, these moments have something in common; Grima is talking to Robin.
In Invisble Ties, this is most evident. 
???: I told you. I'm Robin. The Robin that murdered you and became the fell dragon, Grima. When this "Marth" of yours decided to come back in time...I came with her.
Grima is Robin, burdened by fate, weighed down by grief and madness and a lifetime of horrible choices.
Robin has become his own murderer. To be dead is better than to be Grima.
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emulation-0 · 2 years ago
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it seems people are already upset that tsumiki is not nice anymore, sorry you dont know her like i do
#cmon. cmon. she has every right to be violent#idk if i trust gege to allow her to be angry (which she also has every right to be?? her life has constantly been people pushing her away#and forgetting about her and her constantly being nice) but if she was nice even now it would literally make zero sense#thats not character development. its not even giving her character. its just megumi's perspective being right that shes some kind of saint#which is sooooooo boring like why would she be nice. i think she should be tired of being nice. i think she should go apeshit. as a treat#and there was so much build up about the curse put on her. making it just some thing like oh shes a sorcerer but shes not gonna do anything#about it because shes so good IS SO BORING#and really it would be unrealistic if she didnt harbor at least some negative feelings i mean megumi was always kind of an asshole right up#until she got cursed and im assuming gojo didnt pay much attention to her as he did megumi. and her mom left her for some shitty dude#why would she not be mad?? just getting stuck being a little angel after all that just makes my skin crawl#and if megumi only really considered apologizing after she got cursed i doubt he really did a lot for her when she wasnt.#so i absolutely think she should be allowed to kill people it would be a disservice if she wasnt and was just again boiled down to the#saintly girl older sister image megumi seems to have of her. so boring#or maybe its just me being an angry sister who has to be nice. but i dont really think it is#tsumiki fushiguro#jjk 211#jjk leaks#jjk spoilers#jjk#oh and before anyone misinterprets i know megumi had some psychology going on as a kid. doesnt mean tsumiki didnt either#or that she has to be so understanding all the time and not consider her own feelings. so boring. so shitty#it mightve sounded like a joking tone when i said she should go apeshit. but i was 100% serious#anyway yeah thats it#hanancouldyounot#hanancouldyoupost
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breadhalfburnt · 1 year ago
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FINALLY GOT THE THING THAT’S BEEN SITTING IN THE DUST FOR LIKE, TWO MONTHS FINISHED!!
the one and only @not-the-organ ‘s Hearts! (or well. most of them)
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click on the image(s) to see it better please, i’m sure it looks terribly crunchy
[cropped-ish images below the cut + slight rambling]
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so i know that this is. Terribly. outdated (and late) but just think of it as a blast to the past of sorts!
(i also just didn’t trust myself to have the energy to add 2 more fellas and update everything. sorry. i would’ve done it if i could)
and before anyone asks, Heart-Chan’s headband is under the hood. i just really really liked how it looked with the hood up
okay thankk you bye-
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clownsnake · 18 days ago
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just finished chapter three of the damsel route .
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