#sorry if my answer is a bit long ! ^^

[veinsfullofstars]

💝🧠 for metadede?

You got it, anon! Let's see...

6. 💝 What is each person’s love language (words of affirmation, acts of service, giving gifts, quality time, and physical touch)?

23. 🧠 What is one headcanon that you have about your ship/one headcanon that’s related to your ship in any way? What would they say is their partner’s best and worst quality/qualities (a physical feature, something they do, something they stand for, etc.)?

How about we ask them?

Dedede: "Oh Nova, where do I even begin with that one? Stubborn little so-and-so… thinks he’s so smart, knows everythin’ about anythin’, like he can solve all his problems by swingin’ a sword at ‘em or bein’ all mysterious about it. Peh! And he says I’m the one with the ego problem. Oh, and don’t get me started on tryna convince him he’s wrong about somethin’! He’ll go from cold shoulder to volcanic fury in a heartbeat, and won’t even apologize for it! I tell you, the grudges that man can hold are legendary, and that is not a compliment…

… He’s got drive, though, I’ll give ‘im that. When he stands for somethin', he stands for it, no matter what. Not even a storm could move him from what he believes is right. Heck, he is the storm, haha! And, man, seein’ him when he’s like that… so strong and brave, oh, so brave. Ain’t nothin’ that scares him, and if there was, well shoot, he’d just about fight it anyway. ‘Specially if it’s to protect the folks he cares about…

Plus, he’s got the cutest darn baby face under that mask, simply adorable, and it is a crime-and-a-half that he hides it from everyone, ha ha ha!"

Meta Knight: *sigh* "He’s… a lot of things, that man. Impulsive, selfish, lazy, not to mention far too quick to forgive those who have wronged him - honestly, how anyone saw fit to put a crown on his head is beyond me. Hmph. Probably why he put it there himself in the end. Just one of his many whims, didn’t even bother to think it through before barreling right in, leaving everyone else to pick up the pieces in his wake, like always…

… That isn’t to say he doesn’t care, though. Quite the contrary. He cares so much about his kingdom - his home - as well as the people within it. Lazy or not, he will fight for them, protect them with his life if need be. Even the Fountain knows this. He’s strong, a truly impressive fighter in his own right, one I am honored to stand beside. More than that, though… he’s kind, passionate, smarter than most give him credit for, and, yes… a capable leader when he puts his mind to it.

He also, er… ahem. He also gives, uh, really good hugs, so."

Sketch started 03/22/25, finished 03/28/25. | Kirby Ship Ask Game (made by @/sweetandglovelyart) and alternate questions | Childhood Friends AU Masterpost

[incorrectfmaquotes]

Alex Louis Armstrong is a Chad

do you remember sending this ask? i remember getting it. i was in japan visiting family before i set off to college that fall when i opened my inbox and saw this ask. and i thought it was funny. and true. Alex Louis Armstrong IS a Chad. and i wanted to come up with a funny reply to match. but being quick-witted cant really ever be considered one of my strong suits, and i had even less wield of that skill when still adjusting to a 17 hour time difference. so i told myself not to worry about it, keep spending this time with family members i rarely get to see, and surely when i get home in a few weeks, i could come up with an appropriately fun reply.

that was over 5 years ago. i had gotten back home since then. i had stayed home. virtually everyone was staying home for a good amount of time, a global pandemic happened. other global events happened. Personal Life Stuff happened. i had just graduated high school when i got this ask, and in a universe where maybe some things happened differently, i would have graduated college by now. my keeping of this blog fell more and more to the wayside until life got too busy that it was hard to manage even putting older quotes in the queue and i eventually stopped doing that.

yet a bit more than occasionally over these years, i have thought about this ask and what i could reply to it. still, a fun response has eluded me. but what could i even say as more time passes? that would make the wait worth it? this ask got buried deeper and deeper in my inbox and harder to reach as more asks and submissions were sent. it's entirely possible the blog that has sent it has since deactivated, as many blogs who have sent more recent asks have. the meme became more and more outdated. are chad/virgin jokes still being made? i dont know. even in my teen years i havent been on the rising tide of what slang and memes are currently popular. the gap of knowledge has only widened with age. recently a cousin who is around the same age i was when this ask came to my inbox had quizzed me on tiktok dances and was surprised that i didnt know any, dropping his jaw and exclaiming in all seriousness, "Wow! The generational gap is crazy." the social media i still use the most is tumblr, but more sporadic than it used to be, mainly just a tab i keep open on my desktop to, i dont know, feed some nostalgia? make it seem like im not completely rotting under the weight of adulthood by still keeping some of the rot of my teenage years?

over 5 years have since passed. i am back in japan right now, visiting the same family again, the first time since 2019 when this ask was sent. in the next year, if all things go according to plan, i will be back in college. it's funny, how life goes about in circles. but sometimes, maybe most of the time, those circles dont complete, and many things in life never get closure. or maybe closure does happen, and those circles do complete, but messily, unsatisfactorily, more resembling misshapen imperfect lumps than anything resembling a circle.

all of this to say:

the Chad Alex Louis Armstrong vs. the Virgin Roy Mustang. Discuss.

[dragqueenstarscream]

Personally, I'd kill for a Starop fic/ onshot where Starscream finally manages to cut ties with Megatron and it's just fluff of Optimus comforting him and assuring him it was the right thing to do, that everything will be ok for the both of them

-💌 anon

i wanna scream at the top of my lungs

tfp starscream x optimus prime

i've been waiting for an excuse to write something like this! i already have a fic like this planned for my monsterformers continuity, but let's do one for tfp because i just really want starscream to stick it to this particular megatron.

title comes from "lost in the ocean" by glass animals.

contains: established relationship, starscream leaving megatron, implied abuse, angst, fluff, optimus being a supportive partner

the night sky stretched on endlessly over jasper, nevada as the town slept below. apart from a few busy establishments, the people had turned in for the night. the same couldn't be said for the autobots, who were living it up in the omega base, passing around high grade and celebrating a hard fought victory.

away from them, though, sitting on a cliffside, sat one bot in deep contemplation.

starscream looked a mess. though ratchet had patched up his injuries, he still had filth packed into his seams and a smear of energon along his jaw. his thick brows were furrowed in concentration, as if pondering some impossible question.

but one thing stood out above all else.

starscream was alive.

he couldn't believe it himself, the more he thought about it. sure, the evidence for him being alive was right there; he could see the sky above him, feel the ground beneath his pedes, hear the night breeze swirling around his wings. but he felt as if it shouldn't be real. this existence, this reality was obviously nothing more than the dreams of a dying bot, and they would fade any minute now as he joined with the allspark.

but they never faded, and he never died.

the planet turned. the stars above passed by. the night grew shorter. the world moved on.

but starscream still felt stuck in place. mentally, whenever he lost focus of his environment, he found himself back outside the nemesis, daring to look megatron in the eye while his leader held his fusion cannon to his head. he couldn't bring himself out of that standstill. how could he? he was about to die. how could he move on when he was staring death in the face?

the stars drifted by overhead like ships on a glassy black ocean. a lone car drove by on the highway far below. the world moved on.

the sound of heavy thumps tugged starscream out of his thought spiral. for a moment, he thought that megatron had come to finish the job, but he knew the sound of his leader's steps from anywhere.

former leader. he had to keep reminding himself that.

"starscream?" a familiar rumble of a voice said from behind him. of course. it was optimus, doing his team leader duty, as usual.

"what do you want?" starscream grumbled, pulling his knees closer to his chest.

"ratchet told me i'd find you up here," optimus said. he came up on starscream's right and took his seat at the cliffside. the two bots stayed quiet for a few moments until optimus broke the silence. "how are you feeling?"

"how do you think i'm feeling?" starscream snorted derisively. "i'm now public enemy number one of the entire decepticon legion."

optimus only nodded, and his silence allowed starscream some more time to vent. "i can't believe i did that. i can't believe i actually did that. what kind of glitchhead says something like that?"

"what do you mean?" optimus asked, turning to look at starscream.

"what are you- i told megatron to go frag himself!" starscream exclaimed. "no one does that unless they have a death wish!"

"starscream," optimus started to say, but starscream wasn't done rambling.

"i should be offline," he said bluntly, getting up and starting to pace back and forth. "i shouldn't even be here. i told him off, and now, the entire decepticon legion will come for me."

"starscream," optimus spoke up, but starscream had more to say.

"why am i still here?" starscream asked, shaking his head, optics turned skyward. "i don't even know how i'm still online! primus, optimus, he had his cannon to my head! i can still feel it! and yet i told him to his face to stick it up his aft! how am i still here? how am i still online?!"

"starscream."

the stern tone of optimus' voice made starscream jump. he fell silent as he looked over to his partner, whose face was now fixed in a hard countenance. after a minute's quiet, optimus' face softened, and he began to speak again.

"you're scaring yourself with things that never happened," he said. "there's no need to be saying that you should be dead, because you aren't. you survived."

"but why?" starscream asked. "i still can't process it."

"because you were right," optimus said, "and megatron knew it. you may have been his second in command, but you were also his tool."

"what do you mean by that?" starscream asked.

"he used you to instill fear in the others," optimus explained. "you were an example he would set to the other decepticons. he needed you to exert his authority over them. now, with you gone, he doesn't have that weapon anymore."

"how do you know any of this? you weren't even there to witness it," starscream huffed.

"because i know that side of megatron very well," optimus sighed. "i know how ruthless he can be. you are not the only one he has hurt."

starscream didn't say anything. he knew the history that optimus and megatron had once shared. of course optimus knew what megatron was like. arguably, optimus knew him better than anyone else.

"i suppose you're right," starscream mumbled after an awkward silence as he sat back down, knees curled to his chest. it was the closest thing to an apology that he could muster at the moment.

"this was a long time coming," optimus said.

"too long," starscream grumbled, resting his forehead against his knees.

"either way," optimus said, "you did the right thing."

"by what? running?" starscream barked out a laugh. "i just did what i've always done."

"starscream, i was there with you," optimus said. "i saw what really happened. i saw you stand before megatron and choose to live for yourself, rather than him."

"optimus, i could've offlined where i stood," starscream snarled. "he had his cannon to my head!"

"and yet you stood your ground," optimus continued. "you made him back down. that takes incredible courage."

starscream huffed and turned his head away. "the only reason he left was because you were there to kick his aft if he tried anything," he sneered. in a quiet tone, he added, "that's the only reason i could stand up to him at all."

"starscream, no one else could've done what you did back there," optimus insisted. "and there is no shame in having someone to support you. i couldn't have made it as far as i have in this war without the autobots by my side. none of us have gone through this war alone, and no one is expecting you to do so." he reached out and wrapped his arm around starscream's waist, an invitation for a hug. "though we all have our own battles to fight, it doesn't mean we have to fight alone."

starscream sighed and moved closer to optimus, leaning into his touch. optimus gently squeezed his waist and turned to kiss him on his temple.

"do you remember what you told him?" optimus asked. "right at the end?"

"of course i do," starscream snipped. he took a deep invent, then said, in a calmer tone, "i told him, 'you need me, but i will never need you again.'"

"you said the right thing," optimus reassured him. "you won't ever have to go back to him again."

"you know he'll come looking for me," starscream huffed. "he doesn't like it when his prey gets away."

"if he ever comes back," optimus began, but starscream interrupted him.

"when he comes back," starscream corrected him.

"if he ever comes back," optimus insisted, "we're here for you." he squeezed starscream's side and said, "i'm here for you."

starscream chuckled and laid his head on optimus's side. "i know you are."

optimus smiled and kissed starscream again. "i'm proud of you, sweetspark. i love you."

"the feeling's mutual, you overgrown sap," starscream smirked, which made optimus chuckle warmly.

"the others are inside awaiting your presence, if you'd like to see them," optimus informed starscream. "i have to say, they're rather impressed with your bravery."

"as they should be," starscream joked. "not many people have told megatron to shove his cannon up his aft and survived."

optimus shook his head and laughed as he rose to his pedes. he reached one servo out to starscream, who gladly accepted and pulled himself up. together, the two autobots made their way back into the base, ready to return to the party bulkhead had set up for them.

the stars turned as the night passed on. wispy clouds drifted by. insects flitted back and forth along the wind. the world moved on.

and starscream knew, deep in his spark, that he would, too.

[slasherflicks999]

erm what is slashers relationship with the other creepypastas :3c

before we begin im so sorry this took me legitimately SOOOO disgustingly long to answer holy SHART 💔💔💔 i needed to solidify some of his relationships ngl and i didn’t wanna give a half baked answer :,33 but now that it’s finally hereee…..

slasher room reveal GASP yes he’s sitting at his little computer answering this for u personally :3 i wanted to make it more fun hehe plus background practice…… thank u the sims 4…,,.,,

but anyway THE LITTLE CHIBI THINGS OF THEM WERE SO FUN TO DRAW and also nina with glasses canon i don’t make the rules sorry she’s just too cute with them :,,o

i haven’t been active much at all lately unfortunately BUTTTT more slasher content is soon to come..,.😈😈 TRUSTTTT i shan’t abandon thee tumblr my beloved :333🫶🏻

[broareweabouttoviberightnow]

Hello, your neighborhood Darry Curtis angst truther here. I would love to see what kind of Darry angst your magical brain can cook up, but I am partial to a sickfic. I can’t wait to read what you come up with!

oh I LOVE this!! Sick darry rots in my brain NON stop LOVE LOVE this ask!! fic under the cut!! TYSM FOR THE ASK!!

cw!! vomiting (nothing graphic!!)

Darry didn't get sick. He just didn't. He would defy the laws of nature and manage to avoid it in the middle of January takin' care of both Pony 'n Soda who'd managed to get strep and flu respectfully. He'd dodge it when Two took up a permanent residence in his bed with the stomach bug for a week. He'd come out without a scratch when both Dallas 'n Steve had the common cold 'n acted like they were goin' to have to be put down come dawn.

Pony 'n Soda claimed that Darry managed to stay healthy as a horse all year long on pure stubbornness. Darry had told them that if that was the case, Pony would never have caught so much as a cough.

Yes, Darry Curtis had a track record to uphold. A record he was currently watchin' slip straight through his fingers.

"G'mornin' Dar," Soda's already in the kitchen when Darry walks in, a bad sign. Darry can't remember the last time Soda had gotten ready before anyone. The second he claps his eyes on Darry his brows knit in concern. "You ok?"

"'Mornin', honey. I'm fine." He has to be. He ruffles Soda's hair 'n tries to walk past him, he can hear the sound of an egg burnin' on the pan 'n he's really not in the mood to have to scrape it off. The smell makes his stomach do a sudden, violent lurch. Soda easily blocks him, noddin' for Dallas, who leans over 'n takes the pan off from where he's sittin' in the window sill. "C'mon, kid."

"Somethin's wrong." Soda reaches up to put his palm on Darry's forehead 'n Darry easily bats him away.

"I just slept bad, I'm fine." To be fair, that was the truth. Or at least partly. Dallas had rolled in past three in the mornin' from a shift with the ponys at Buck's 'n climbed straight into Darry's bed, wreakin' like a stable 'n twice as cold. When he had tried to kick the kid out he had fought, literally, tooth 'n nail. Somethin' about Soda not bein' warm 'n Pony not sharin' the blanket. Never you mind it was the spittin' middle of summer. Darry had conceded, if only for the chance to go back to bed. The culprit glanced over his shoulder 'n grinned 'n Darry narrowed his eyes at him.

"Well... alright." Soda reluctantly moves out of the way 'n Darry squeezes his shoulder, grabbin' a piece of dry toast from the counter 'n movin' to put his shoes on. "Are you 'n Steve walkin' to the DX or d'you need a ride?" Steve 'n Soda's love child of a beater had recently done the only thing it did well, stop workin'. Again. Steve swore this time it was just the muffler. Easy fix. Last time he'd said that their car had sat on Darry's lawn for a week.

"We'll walk- wait you gotta have some breakfast." Soda stubbornly moves to cut him off again 'n Darry chuckles fondly, easily manhandlin' him out of the way.

"I'm gonna be late kiddo." He holds the toast in his mouth 'n steps into his work boots. "Hey, one of you make sure Pony gets up before you leave or else I swear he'll sleep all day." Darry shoves aside the feelin' in his gut, half premonition, half sickness.

"I'll get him up later." Dallas climbs off the counter 'n both him 'n Soda share a look. "You sure you're good, man?"

"Glory, you two really know how to make a man feel better." Darry rolls his eyes but gives them both a grin. "I'll be fine. Now, I'll be 'round to pick up you 'n Steve after work, 'n Dally, you're on dishes." Dallas scowled but didn't complain which wasn't much of a comfort. Darry must look bad if Dallas wouldn't kick up a fuss.

He was fine. He'd be fine.

God knows what they would do it he wasn't.

...

Darry was home by noon. Apparently, they don't take kindly to you vomitin' up breakfast at the construction site. He'd begged to be able to stay but his boss had stood firm on it. He was a real good man, had worked with his father, 'n had offered him the afternoon paid time off.

He'd barely gotten home. It was like all at once his body had just decided to quit workin'. His legs fell like jelly as he climbs out of the truck, white knucklin' the railin' to get up the steps.

"Pone?" He calls when the door swings open 'n is greeted with nothin' but the vague smell of burnt eggs. He instantly ducks into the kitchen 'n brings up bile. Well. Shit.

He reaches over 'n slides the window open, hopin' to circulate some air into the house. Only the sticky, tempid dry heat of Tusla summers trails through the screen. Darry sinks down to the basin, restin' his hot forehead against the cold metal.

Alright. Up. The house is, mercifully, empty 'n Darry makes quick work of shruggin' off his shoes, shirt, 'n work belt. He trudges down the hall 'n ducks into the relative darkness of his room. He's asleep before he realizes it, passed out on the bed with his Levi's still on.

...

"Darry?" Darry wakes up with a migraine, head swimmin'. Soda's voice calls from somewhere in the house 'n it's got a shrill high note of panic in it. Darry glances to the end table 'n has to shake his head three times before he processes the time. Six in the afternoon. Shit.

Darry sits up too fast 'n the world spins around him. No. No no no. He couldn't do this. The door to his bedroom bangs open 'n Soda appears in the doorway, face flushed, hair stickin' in every direction. Steve hovers behind him lookin' just as stricken.

"Oh, fuck. Dar you don't look good." Soda sits down on the bed 'n pushes Darry's hair off his sweaty forehead in a way oddly reminiscent of how Darry often did to him. He tries to grin, sits up a little taller, shakes Soda off 'n doesn't even grimace when just that makes his head damn near split. Soda doesn't fall for it one bit. "Darry you lay back down. Steve go get some soup from the cabinet, I know you haven't eaten anythin'." Soda shoots him a determined look 'n nods to himself when Darry doesn't protest. Steve spares him one more worried frown 'n disappears back down the hall.

"I'm fine Soda." Which is just about the biggest lie he's ever told.

"No, you're not." Soda leans over 'n presses on Darry's shoulder to make him lie down. He pretends it doesn't scare him how little force it takes. "You would never have forgotten to pick up me 'n Steve if somethin' wasn't wrong. 'N you definitely wouldn't be home early. Now, hush." Darry glances at him guiltily but now that he's layin' back down he can barely hold his eyes open.

"'M sorry, kiddo." Soda squeezes his shoulder 'n drops a kiss to his hot forehead.

"It's alright, Dar. Let me take care of you for once." And he thinks he says somethin' but, truthfully, he's asleep before he can be sure.

...

The next time he wakes up the sun is low outside his window, the shadows stretchin' long across the floor. He feels worse. Somehow. His body aches like he's been hit by a truck. His throat is sore 'n raw 'n he can feel the barely stagnant nausea in his stomach. When he turns his head the migraine flares to life along the edges of his vision.

"Darry?" Darry squeezes his eyes shut, the low voice soundin' like a gunshot in the silence. He blinks blearily, lifts his head 'n searches for the voice's owner.

"Pone?" The armchair from the living room has been drug into the corner of his bedroom 'n Pony is curled up in it. Darry can hear the sounds of Soda, Steve, 'n Dallas all in the kitchen down the hall 'n he grimaces.

"Yeah, Darry it's me." Shit. Pony shouldn't be in here. He can't afford the kid gettin' sick. Or seein' him like this. He's not supposed to be fallible. Glory, he doesn't have it in him to look strong right now. So he's gotta get the kid out.

"Your brother know you're in here?" Pony worries his lip between his teeth.

"No, he didn't want me to bug you but... I didn't want you to be alone." Glory, the kid could be a thorn in his side sometimes. But then he'd turn around 'n say somethin' like that 'n Darry really didn't know what he'd done in his life to end up with such good kid brothers.

"C'mere, Ponybaby." Darry shifts over, bites back on his wince, 'n Pony immediately curls up in the crook of his arm. Darry strokes his hair gently 'n Pony clutches Darry's side like if he can't hold on to him he'll vanish. The heat of Pony's body is nearly unbearable against Darry's fever-ridden sickness but Darry'll be damned if he's not gonna give his kid brother whatever comfort he can right now.

Darry's just startin' to drift again when the door eases open, the light from the hall nearly makin' him wretch. Soda slips in 'n eases the door shut behind him, a bowl of soup steamin' in his hands. The smell makes Darry's stomach churn.

"Ponyboy Curtis, didn't I tell you to let Darry sleep?" But he doesn't sound mad at all.

"C'mon Soda," Pony tucks himself tighter into the crook of Darry's elbow 'n Darry squeezes Pony reassuringly.

"Pony, mind your brother. I'll be fine." He gives Pony a gentle shove 'n Pony slides reluctantly off the bed 'n to Soda's side. Soda drops a kiss to his head 'n Pony slips out into the hall with a single worried glance back.

"How ya feelin', Dar?" Soda plops down on the bed, settin' the soup down on the end table 'n handin' Darry a glass of water.

"I'm-"

"If you say fine I'm gonna call you a liar." Soda wags a finger 'n Darry scoffs, flinches.

"I've had better days." Darry takes a small sip of the water, it feels like acid down his dry throat.

"You don't say?" Soda chuckles under his breath 'n takes the glass back, swappin' it with the soup 'n fixin' him with a look when he grimaces. "You gotta try to eat somethin', Dar."

Darry holds the bowl in his lap 'n takes a long steadin' breath. He doesn't want to. Honest. But he's spent too many mornin', noon, 'n nights fightin' with sick kids to know better than to refuse. He wasn't gonna make this any more stressful on Soda than it already was. "You know, Pepsi, you're pretty damn good at this older brother thing."

Soda folds his legs up crisis-cross under him 'n smiles ruefully. "I'll be happier when I can hand the position back over."

Darry chuckles 'n reaches out ruffles his hair. "Sorry, kiddo."

"For what? If you're apologizin' for gettin' sick I'm gonna make you eat the casserole I made for dinner instead of Steve's Campbell." Soda shoots him a stern glare he can't quite hold.

"Apologizin'? Who's apologizin'? I was feelin' sorry for myself." Soda howls his laugh 'n Darry has missed hearin' it so bad he manages to completely ignore the way his migraine fuzzes around his temples.

"Alright, mister, no more stallin'. Eat." Darry manages two bites in ten minutes. Then he vomits both it 'n the water back up.

"Dar..." Soda rubs his back 'n Darry bites his lip hard. He wants to bawl. He won't do that to Soda. "I think we're gonna hafta call a doc."

"Look, give me another day. I'm not gonna drain our entire fund for some stupid cold, ok? I'll be alright. Give me another day." He somehow finds it in him to sound more assured then he feels.

"Oook." Soda doesn't look confident at all as he takes the bowl off the end of the bed, most of the can still remainin'. "But, Dar?" He pauses until Darry looks back up at him.

"What is it, Pepsi?"

"We'd make it happen. It ain't a drain if it means we can fix you up."

"Alright, kiddo." 'N they both know he doesn't believe it. "Now get your ass outta here before you get sick too."

Soda offers only a wobbly version of his usual grin as he pulls the door back open. "Hey now, I ain't ready to hand over that in charge title yet, young man."

...

"Darry? Darry, c'mon man." Darry wakes to rough hands shakin' him 'n immediately knows it's not Pony or Soda.

"Dar, you're scarin' me, c'mon." The second Darry opens his eyes the hands drop him. Dallas sits back, eyes wild, hair fallin' in his face, hands clenchin' 'n unclenchin' on his knees.

Darry blinks hard, realizes three things at the same time. His heart is beatin' so hard he can hear the blood as it rushes in his ears. There's a name on his lips. Somethin' startin' with an M he knows before he has to ask. His throat is sore, 'n not from all the hackin' he's been doin'. The kind you get from screamin'.

He opens his mouth to answer 'n immediately brings up the contents of his stomach into the bucket Soda had left when he brought dinner. Dallas flies to his side, bony hand restin' on Darry's back. "Shit, Darry."

Darry squeezes his eyes shut, groans. The second he stops feelin' like heavin' around nothin' he sits back 'n refocuses on Dallas. "Shit, kid. I'm sorry. Are you ok?"

"Am I? Dar, I was worried about you, man. I'm fine." But he's still got a flash in his eyes Darry knows, the restless way his spins his ring around his finger. He opens one arm 'n Dallas hesitates before slidin' over 'n droppin' his head down to Darry's shoulder.

"Was I havin'... a nightmare?" He doesn't need to ask. He knows. They run in the family. Darry was just better at keepin' 'em locked down.

"Yeah, man. You were, uh, callin' for Mrs. C." He had figured. He lets out a long breath 'n rests his head down on Dallas', their temples together.

"You sure you're alright, kid?" Dallas presses his elbow against Darry's ribs 'n Darry does them both a favor 'n pulls him flush against his side.

"Yeah, man, I'm sure." They're quiet for a few moments. They don't need to say anythin'. "I'm glad Soda's asleep. Pony wanted to sleep in here but I told him no way, man, that kid's annoyin' when he's not sick."

Darry chuckles 'n lays back down. Dallas flips around a few times before settlin'. He's got the minimum amount of contact with space to have none. Darry lets out a huff of a laugh. He gets the touch thing from Pony, no contest.

"Thanks for wakin' me up, kid."

"Yeah, well, don't mention it. You were thrashin' around 'n takin' up my whole side of the bed 'n shit so I kinda had to." Darry laughs again 'n doesn't mention Dallas' doin' what he does best: pretendin' everythin' is ok. His migraine flares so bad he feels like his skull might just crack in half to remind him that's not the case.

"Dal, I don't want you catchin' this. Why don't you go elbow over Soda tonight?" When he twists to look at Darry he's got that look in his ice-chip eyes that tell Darry arguin' is pointless. He may not have gotten his stubbornness from the Curtis' but he damn well fit right in.

"Don't mention it."

...

Darry has his feet on the floor before he can fully process anythin'. He blinks his eyes, rubs at them blearily. Lets out a sigh when his stomach turns over. He's gettin' real sick of the wakin' up 'n driftin' off thing. Mostly 'cause every time he was up he expects to feel better 'n that is never the case.

He glances at the clock at his bedside. A little before six. Like clockwork. Darry never needed to set alarms. He just woke up when he was meant to. Pony had complained about that for years. 'N Darry, in turn, had complained about his obnoxious alarm clocks.

It takes a moment for him to realize he's suddenly ravenous. He's so goddamn relieved he could cry.

Dallas is gone but that's to be expected. Dallas was an oddly early riser. He would go to sleep at two 'n still wake up before Darry. Darry creeps into the kitchen 'n finds Dallas where he always is, curled up in the window sill. He also finds Soda, awake again.

"Hey lil' buddy, what are you doin' awake?" Soda whips around, still half asleep. He looks so soothed for a moment, the stress fallin' out of his shoulders. Then he gets a good look at Darry.

"What are you doin' out of bed?" Soda shrugs his DX shirt around on his shoulders, takes the coffee Dallas offers him.

"I've gotta go to work, kiddo. I'm feelin' better." Darry grins, holds his head stiffly 'n walks around the side of the table. Dallas jumps off the counter 'n, between the two of them, manage corner him.

"Nuh uh, no siree. I let you go to work yesterday 'n look where that got you." Darry sighs, lets Soda manhandle him down into a chair like just standin' too much could make him keel over 'n die. Darry won't admit he might be right.

"Soda, I love you. We can't afford this." Soda shoots Dallas a look Darry can't read. And that unsettles him.

"Don't worry, Dar. We got it covered. Plus, Soda already called you in sick so it's too late now." Dallas turns around 'n slides an egg that is somehow both over 'n underdone across the table. So Soda cooked. Darry snakes a hand out 'n snatches both of their wrists. Dallas jumps a lil' but neither look particularly surprised.

"This 'Got it covered' shit legal?" He fixes them both with the sternest look he can manage. His appetite is slippin' away from him again 'n he hates to admit it but Soda's probably right. Another look between the two of them 'n Darry gives them a shake.

"Look, Dar. Don't worry about it." Darry lets out an exasperated sigh 'n Dallas rolls his eyes. "Yes, it's legal. Soda 'n I are just pickin' up extra shifts, ok? Glory, you wouldn't let God have his second comin' without callin' you first."

Darry lets out a sigh of relief 'n chuckles. "Since when did you get religious, Dallas Winston?"

"Since the Devil thought it'd be funny to dump me in the middle of Tusla, Oklahoma with you bunch." Dallas scuffs his foot on the tile 'n Darry's laughs become a hackin' cough. Soda 'n Dallas glance at each other again.

"Look, you two, I appreciate it. But I'm not gonna make you work extra to pick up my slack. I'll just call back. I can go in." Soda sighs 'n sinks down into the chair across from his brother.

"Darry, just let us do this, alright?" He fiddles with his shirt, the mug, a curl of his bangs. "You do enough, Dar. Let us just do this."

No, he thinks, I never do enough.

Darry looks his kid brothers over again. Feels that familiar kick that he will never deserve this. "Fine." He swallows bile as it rises up his throat. "Fine. I'll stay home."

"And you won't do any housework- or anythin' Pony wants." Soda bounces back instantly waggin' his finger 'n grinnin', but that's how Soda's always been. "I better come back to this house a disaster!"

"Yessir." Darry throws his hands up, hesitantly tries for the eggs again.

"Steve's comin' in after school so if you need anythin' call Two, OK?" Darry nods again 'n Soda grins 'n pours him a glass of water.

"I'm gonna let Pony know we're headed out." Dallas disappears down the hall 'n Darry can hear him pokin' at the kid 'n when that doesn't work, drag the kid out of bed. In the literal fashion.

"OW!"

"Are the eggs ok? I cooked 'em." Darry goes for the least runny bite he can get.

"Great, kiddo. Thank you." He snaps Soda up 'n drops a kiss to his messy hair.

"-'n if I hear about you bein' a brat I swear to God-"

"Pony'll be stayin' here. I tried to get him to go but..." Soda trails off 'n they both hear the distinctive sound of two bodies hittin' the floor.

"I don't want him here on my account. He's not skippin' school if he ain't sick." Darry swallows his bite 'n bile crawls up his throat immediately. Soda watches him carefully.

"Well, if you wanna fight with the kid I won't get in you're way. But, uh, well you know how Pony is." He did. His migraine burns along the back of his head. Please Pony, he feels a little guilty but it doesn't stop him from thinkin', don't be yourself.

Dallas 'n Pony appear in the kitchen again, both tousel-headed 'n scowlin'. The second Pony lays eyes on Darry, however, he lets out a soft little noise of relief 'n throws himself into Darry's arms.

"Hey, kid." Darry runs a hand through his hair 'n pulls him into his lap.

"Dar, you're ok." He tucks his head under Darry's chin 'n Darry smiles. Maybe he should get sick more often.

"Well, don't be too happy. I'm gonna tell you somethin' you're not gonna like 'n I'm not fightin' on it." Pont leans back, furrows his brows.

"Ok?"

"You're goin' to school today. I'm not gonna have you skippin' for my sake. I'll be fine alone, Pone." Pony's face scrunches up into a scowl again.

"But-" Dallas clears his throat 'n Pony snaps his mouth shut. "Fine." He clambers away from Darry 'n back out into the hall, not quite managin' to avoid the whack to the back of the head Dallas sends him with a smirk.

"Glory, you 'n Soda run a tight ship, huh?" Dallas grins, shrugs on his jacket.

"Well, can't have the kid turnin' into a knucklehead 'cause you have to call out of havin' a stick up your ass for one day." Pony 'n Darry let out twin noises of indignation, Pony's comin' from somewhere around the corner. Soda 'n Dallas both howl.

"Watch it, you two. Once I get better I'm gonna have to beat your fool heads in." Darry rests his head on his hand, proppin' his elbow on the table. Glory, why did bein' sick make him so damn tired?

"Have to catch us first!" Soda splits into a toothy smile 'n slips out the screen door, snappin' the keys off the counter. "Don't you dare do nothin'- remember!"

"C'mon Pony! Leave now or walk!" Dallas shouts into the hall 'n Pony comes flyin' back out with his bag. He only stops long enough for Darry to press a kiss to his temple. Dallas kicks him in the ass 'n Pony turns back around to sock him in the ribs.

"Get better, Dar!"

"Yeah, 'n call Buck's if you need me." Darry rolls his eyes 'n follows them to the door, shuttin' it behind them.

"Somehow I'll manage. Glory, y'all have become frettin' hens!" Soda cracks up, squawks 'n flaps his hands. Pony shakes his head but can't hide his grin. "Love y'all."

"Love ya, Dar!"

"Yeah, man."

"Get better, Darry!"

The truck pulls out of the drive too fast 'n zips down the street. The second it vanishes around the corner exhaustion hits Darry again. He ducks back inside 'n is in bed before the sound of Soda gunnin' the engine is too far to hear.

...

The smell of dinner wakes Darry up. When his stomach flips it has nothin' to do with sickness. God, it smells good.

He kicks the blanket off 'n almost cries when he isn't swelterin' or shiverin'. When he gets to his feet his head doesn't swim. Glory, it doesn't even hurt. Heavensake, he'd forgotten how good it felt to not have a headache.

He eases the door open 'n the sound of an Elvis record they've nearly burned through skips on the player. It scratches 'n Darry can hear Steve 'n Dallas goin' back 'n forth over the new Hollies single or the Yard Birds. Dallas wins out 'n The Hollies drifts down the hall.

Darry pokes his head into the kitchen 'n Soda stops jabbin' at Two who was fixin' somethin' at the stove. He takes Darry in from head to toe 'n then grins wide. He looks exhausted but also younger than he has since the moment he came home to Darry 'n his bug.

Pony glances up from where he's workin' at his math homework 'n splits into a big smile.

"Dar!" He shoots out of his chair so fast he nearly knocks it over. Dallas 'n Steve duck into the kitchen from the living room both lookin' suddenly, jarringly relieved. Pony throws his arms around Darry 'n Darry pulls Soda into the hug.

"You feelin' better, Superman?" The smell of gasoline clings to both Steve 'n Soda. Horses to Dallas'. Pony's homework it half done. No one coercin' him. The meal Two's pullin' out of the oven had taken at least an hour of prep work. Darry knows from experience. 'N they're all lookin' at him.

"Yeah, you know? I am."

[syluses]

Hey, so i want to ask about the ending of robot caleb x reader (big girls dont cry). First of all, it's an amazing story, a bit disturbing with its dark tones and yn's inner moral conflict (it's disturbing in a good way like the movie "Companion"). Through yn's pov, you managed to deliver that unsettling feeling, like this is wrong, fckd up even, but she keeps indulging herself in it. Like ok pop off literature queen.

Anyways, i wanna know what's your interpretation of the ending is?

Thats all, thank you for writing this fic, u ate 💅

Nonnie i am so so sorry for the late reply… 🥲 i was hesitating at first to answer cuz i wasnt sure whether or not i wanted to ‘undo’ the ambiguous ending if u will,.. but then i just kept on forgetting afterward lol 🥲 I still wanna maintain the ambivalence of the ending just bc i think its fun for yall to imagine how it goes in ur own ways— the opportunities are infinite. but i’ll tell u a VERY general rundown of how i picture bgdc carries on after the last scene:

Mc is unable to leave; not-Caleb keeps her tied down to him in her home- where she’s safe (at least for the moment)- while the real caleb slowly works to reintroduce himself into her life. Not-Caleb, while more morally “safe”, lets say, than his counterpart, becomes growingly worse with mc— more protective, possessive, and flat out frightening— as he realizes his time with y/n could possibly be drawing to a close- what with that psychopath hot on their tail. He does what he can to cut out the cameras and location-tracking devices in him- attempting to shut real-Caleb out as best as he possibly can without damaging his infrastructure. I even can see robo-caleb, after ‘cleaning’ his system, making the effort to relocate with mc to someplace safer before real-caleb comes, someplace hidden, someplace that doesnt exist, but that’s really not a clever or feasible idea all things considered— it’s a poor, last ditch effort made in sheer desperation to protect mc and keep her to himself.

In the end, what i see is ultimately the two calebs beefing it out in a physical confrontation. Not-caleb will do all he can to shield mc (while actively also trying to replace his original 👀), while real-caleb will do all he can to take mc. However that may look. However ugly.

They are mirrors of each other after all C:

Anyways thats my somewhat vague canon description of what happens after :] but again i encourage yall to come up with ur own ideas too hehe the possibilities for the maniacs are endless 👀

[tohruies]

HIII HELLO AGAIN! and a very happy timezone to my little superstars hehe (๑>◡<๑) 🌟 i’m so so sorry for disappearing without warning ahh but i have finally emerged victorious from the war (a week’s long of overnight expts)!!! mutuals, perhaps you wouldn’t mind if i came and took a rest in your arms! 🥹💝💝 i missed you all very much but i trust your f/os have been taking good care of you? 🥺 yaaaayy!! i hope your day is / was filled with little joys and gentle moments away from the chaos! rooting for you always. mwaaaaa. i love youuuu!! 🍀✨

[alien-bluez]

if you draw ships then how about swiftli?

he fell asleep watching the garfield movie of all things-

[whetstonefires]

#4 please !

Now see this could be tricky, because generally if I don't get some key elements written down very quickly the idea flows away again and the 'yet' disappears, even if I remember generally what it was about, but I have one this time! I am still just enough plagued by this vision that it's not out of the question I'll go for the capture, but so far nada.

Idea was basically a Jiang family character study by way of modern au. (So tw canonical abuse.) I started from the reflection, in a modern au very high chance the Jiangs are divorced, because being a divorcee wouldn't necessarily ruin Yu Ziyuan in the modern world, as long as she was allowed to control the narrative enough that she didn’t look at fault, so it might be on the table.

Especially because modern views on child abuse are such that while she'd hold back more than she already does in terms of physical chastisement, Jiang Fengmian would also be under less societal pressure to not interfere in her disciplinary system too much, and both these factors mean he’s more likely to put his foot down.

So, concept: Jiang Fengmian, when his son is eight and his daughter thirteen, forces the issue of taking in his best friends' abused orphan child whom he’s just managed to track down in a nightmarish group home, probably leveraging the fact that wherever their money comes from it's mostly his, something he usually doesn't do, but she has always known he could, and been fucked up about it (reasonable) and hated him a little (less so) and hates him so much more now (understandable but still fucked up).

They were obviously still both pressured into this marriage by their families, because I literally cannot imagine them choosing one another of their own free will, and if they did that would be an au in an even more dramatic way than being modern, and no longer work as a character or relationship study as far as I'm concerned. I mean or it’s a cql-based au, but that’s not the version of this toxic marriage I find compelling.

Situation subsequently deteriorates to the point that when the boys are around twelve some outside party observes and is repulsed or otherwise upset by Yu Ziyuan's treatment of Wei Wuxian specifically--she's emotionally abusive to everyone in the family, canonically, and it harms Jiang Cheng significantly more than Wei Wuxian, which I think is also pretty explicit on the page, but she's more openly antagonistic about going after wwx because he's basically a proxy for her husband, whom she doesn't consider to be someone she's capable of harming.

And ofc in a modern family scenario, being abusive to your foster kid is more plainly personal misconduct than being unfair in how you discipline one of your husband's many students, even if it is his favorite. Which means she's very unlikely to chase him around with a whip, but whatever she does do will sting that much more emotionally.

Anyway the outside judgement provokes a more explicit confrontation than the last four years of maneuver and attempting to balance all the competing needs according to two very different standards. And the upshot is that by the time wwx is 13, the Jiangs are divorced. To avoid making a humiliating spectacle of themselves they present a weirdly united front in court and have a very smooth uncontested proceding, although the closed meetings with their respective lawyers involved a lot of vitriol.

Yu Ziyuan, despite having a smallish trust fund and probably a job of some kind, though one that's more prestigious than profitable like uh. Olympic fencing coach. Idk what they make but it's probably not enormous. She and Cangse Sanren probably competed in the same events back in the day.

Anyway she gets a solid chunk of alimony, the house, and primary custody of both her children, although Jiang Yanli is almost 18 at this point so mostly she just gets Jiang Cheng. Everyone thinks Jiang Cheng wants it that way, including sort of Jiang Cheng; he has this idea that if he has his mom to himself they'll finally have a good relationship, even though he's also terrified of being left all alone with her. He's complicated. Families are complicated.

Also she would never have forgiven him if he hadn't concurred that he wanted to stay with his mother because she was the only one On His Side.

Jiang Yanli ofc does not move out right away when she comes of age, in part because her brother needs her, but she probably does go to college, so she's only around part-time.

Jiang Fengmian, meanwhile, keeps most of his financial assets and Wei Wuxian, and gets his kids on the weekends.

So that's all setup for how you have this situation where Wei Wuxian and Jiang Cheng are entering high school--probably the same school, together, but no longer sharing the commute except maybe Monday mornings--and Wei Wuxian's primary residence is Jiang Cheng's dad's apartment.

It’s really chill. They get a cleaning service in once a week and eat a lot of delivery food, but they do cook at least once a week. The canonical thing where they largely agree about what’s funny and what’s right-or-wrong, and so forth, on the one hand really pops when there’s mostly no external conflict disrupting it, but also probably gains more complexity now that it’s not a thread of positivity fighting for its life against a background of drama. They get to know each other better than they ever had a chance to in canon.

Some of that isn't all that positive, because now they have the space to discover the places where they do actually have the capacity for friction, but both of them are very good at dispersing tension (I do tend to suspect jfm's dad was abusive he sure acts like it), and on the whole it's a good thing.

Jiang Cheng is going to have such a mental health crisis, and Jiang Fengmian is going to handle it so badly. Because of course when his son starts replicating his ex-wife's toxic attitudes and behaviors more now that she has primary custody, he’s going to feel guilty and like it’s His Fault, but he’s going to feel like it’s his fault that Jiang Cheng is growing up to be a shitty abusive person.

And even if he’d never say that the subtext would come through, in the assumptions he made when framing communications and so forth, as in canon, so the thing where Jiang Cheng’s father loves Wei Wuxian more than him, or at any rate likes him better and thinks he’s a better person and prefers his company, would wind up feeding into a self-reinforcing loop.

(Jin Zixuan's nasty public remark about Jiang Fengmian treating Wei Wuxian better than his own children hits Jiang Cheng significantly harder in this scenario, where he's being Tormented by the feeling that all his peers know his dad walked out on him for another son. Wei Wuxian's punch is therefore even more clearly primarily for Jiang Cheng's sake, although Jiang Cheng is probably more inclined to see it as being for his dad's. Jin Zixuan is about halfway between the Jiang kids' ages here, so he's a senior saying this shit to a sophomore.)

So that cycle builds to the point where Jiang Cheng would eventually have one of those rare moments where he resorts to actual violence, because his poisoned feelings are choking him so bad his rationality deserts him.

He’s not going to be nearly as close to actually murdering Wei Wuxian as he was in canon the night the Jiang Sect was massacred, because it’s a less extreme situation, but he still goes for the neck. So Jiang Fengmian is in his home office one Saturday about a year and a half into this new normal, and realizes the boys are fighting. He hears through the wall the accusation you stole my dad. He says to himself, well that’s terrible but interjecting myself into this situation would definitely make it worse.

Then he hears sounds of violence, and then an ominous abrupt silence, and updates that analysis.

And when he opens the door to the boys’ room, Wei Wuxian is being strangled. He’s not really resisting, which is because he’s made the call that that’s way more likely to get Jiang Cheng to snap out of it, and thinks it might make Jiang Cheng feel better to get it out of his system (because he does sort of feel like what Jiang Cheng is going through is all his fault, or at any rate is much worse as a result of decisions made for his sake) and is severely underestimating the dangers of choking, but looks to a third party like he’s already passed out and Jiang Cheng is still at it. Which is to say, it looks like a serious murder attempt on the brink of success.

So that sure made that situation worse!

So yeah that's my idea that I probably won't write but it sure has its teeth in me.

[c-0f-chaos]

I’m the blog runner of only one of 3 daily OFF blogs (well now four since Enoch is here, albeit weekly).

Thanks for your comments on your reblogs. I look forward to seeing them everyday, and it makes me happy to know that this whole daily universe is making people’s day brighter. Sometimes it’s hard to tell with just likes (not that I blame nor force anyone to comment).

You can't imagine the joy this brings me, I look forward to everyone's daily post, they brighten my day and I look forward to seeing the silly stuff everyone does, and knowing that one of you is looking forward to my silly comments makes me incredibly happy! Thank you so much for the daily joy and for telling me this!!!!

[canisalbus]

It's canon. The way I see it, the events taking place in the fic and after it aren't canon but a lot of them significantly mirror and overlap with what I've had in mind, so the line is blurry in places. Character details like the one you mentioned are accurate, or at least I can't think of any that aren't.

[shkika]

The Bushken would like to give Clover their berries

Clover is strictly a carnivore, but I'm sure it can appreciate the gesture!

If it's bigger and deadlier than us- we fear it. If it is smaller- we eat it.

Old birds are loud and obnoxious and terrifying. Tulip snakes are oddly eager to be eaten, but you do not see it complaining. It appreciates their stupidity!

Hmm as for Butlers I suppose they'd be frustrating. The meat is way too rotten and guarded to be useful. It'd merely avoid them.

[lilderitter]

Hi Lil! First of all, thank you for coming onto tumblr and sharing all that you have with us. I really appreciate it!

I just wanted to ask if you had anything extra to share about Nia’s storylines in books 2 and 3, since she’s my favorite character in all of the Blades of Light and Shadow series.

Her storyline in book 2 was my favorite in the series, especially with the aspect of coming to accept the “darker” or “shadow” parts of yourself, so to speak. I believe that you said you focused on more of Tyril and Mal as characters, but I would still love to hear whatever you want to share on this, even just your own thoughts or interpretations. Thanks again!

Hello! Thank you so much for asking and usual caveat that I'm no longer at Pixelberry so this isn't official current canon, just what I remember slash where my head was at.

Shadow!Nia is so important to Book 2's themes and the series' themes in general, so I'm so glad that it resonated with you! I adore Nia, and I did do some of the building out on her relationship with the Temple and the Light (particularly the Mother of Grey being her Patron Light and the concept of Patron Lights in general. I grew up around a lot of Jesuits because my dad is a professor at a Jesuit college even though he is a militant atheist, and I'm Italian American, so I've always found the concept of Catholic saints really fascinating). I handled some of the initial stuff on Nia and Raine's conversation before and after Ventra's funeral in Book 2 because we wanted her to be able to participate and talk about her journey in the book without imposing her belief system on Ventra since Orcs aren't Light worshippers, which is why Imtura invites her to participate rather than her just doing it. (Also Imtura asking her to participate is also a bit of foreshadowing for Book 3, where Imtura is trying to decide how she feels about the afterlife now that she's been running around with people who have different beliefs from her.)

Since we were dismantling the Elven Pantheon and the Temple even further than Book 1 did, it did feel important to show that Nia's faith doesn't have to be defined by the corruption the party discovers at the heart of the Elven Pantheon, because everyone's relationship to the divine (or just the concept of the divine) is personal. As the Blades equivalent of a cleric (in the D&D sense), Nia's felt the very real warmth and power the Light can give her, and she's used it to heal, protect, and take care of people, which is what's most important to her. The Temple doesn't get to police that, not ever, just like they don't get to police her negative emotions or moments where she lacks decorum or control.

At its heart, Shadow magic is about giving in to impulse and instinct. There is nothing inherently good or bad about that. It's all about what those impulses are. Nia's been suppressing her negative emotions and beating herself up for so long that when she gives herself even a sliver of permission to let go, all her suppressed emotions come with it, which is how we get her (super badass) Shadow appearance.

Part of what we wanted to explore in Book 2 is the idea that imposing a good/evil dichotomy onto appearance (especially when the "evil" appearance visibly deepens the skintone of a character like Aerin) is a problematic construction, which is party of why Isador and Nyra are there. Isador might veer toward concepts of evil because she prioritizes herself (and to a lesser extent Nyra) over others, but Nyra's "corruption" is in many ways more about her initial guilt for trying to "climb above her station."

Shadow!Nia isn't mean or dismissive because Shadow magic "took over." It's a manifestation of what happens when you punish yourself for your negative and uncharitable thoughts instead of acknowledging that everyone has them to some degree and what matters is how you impact others as a result. Shame can be a necessary and useful tool for when people hurt others, but punishing yourself often ends up just being a way of making a situation where you hurt someone else about how /you/ feel instead of how you can make amends. I honestly can't imagine Nia has intentionally harmed anybody outside of battle before her transformation, but any time she's had the impulse to do so, or to even just say something mean or selfish (or even just assert her own boundaries), she's spiraled about how bad a person she is because that's how she was raised. When she gives herself permission to let go, she assumes it's evil and therefore "looks" evil (once again, within the framework of how she was raised.)

Other Nia thoughts in no particular order:

The awesome little team I worked on at Pixelberry (who also did the Cursed Heart series and had just finished up Wake the Dead when I joined, truly one of my favorite VNs) had some very clear beliefs about genre that tend to go against the mold, especially for fantasy: no chosen ones and no "good" empires. While corrupt officials and deposing a king or religious leader are tried and true tropes, often the solution that's offered at the end is for the MC to take on that position of authority because they are inherently a good person and will do better of course. (Ask the characters in Dune how that turned out, ey?) The thing I adore about Nia is that she is actually that good a person, so she ends up in an almost Joan of Arc position where she's having to speak truth to power while grappling with her own feelings of guilt about not being the "perfect" Light worshipper.

Bear with me, but if you haven't seen Conclave, it is a great place to get a LOT of Nia feels. I won't spoil things, but there is a character Nia would adore, and I think one of the things that Nia has always struggled with is finding the confidence to interpret the texts that she loves so much in her own eyes and through her own sense of right and wrong. That's not something that the Temple really supports, but I know pretty much all the Old God aside from Nifara are so proud of her.

I know some people felt that Nia was underserved in Book 3 in terms of screentime, but if you look over the course of the whole series, she's had a lot of progress and growth in 1 & 2, much like Tyril, so at least for me personally, it felt more fair to give some of that potential screentime to someone like Imtura, who still needed room to process the loss of her mother and what it means about her relationship to her own culture because there wasn't time to do that at the end of Book 2.

Also I know it's controversial but confident and even domme Nia is my fave Nia. I love it when cinnamon rolls come into their power. Long live our true Patron Light, reluctant [Morella equivalent of] Pope Nia Ellarious.

[dol-dogboy]

What was one event that changed your PC? Not just their appearance but their perspective on the world, or the way the town works?

Damon and Celes are a tad. Complicated to explain as well as being more focused on their backstories rather than in game stuff sooooo I’ll just go with Percy and Bowie :3

For Percy it would have to be when he finally blackmailed Leighton. At that point he had a theory already in mind, and this event was what proved that he was right— you gain power not by doing good deeds, but by lying, cheating, stealing, and throwing all morality out the window. Is Leighton horrible? Yes. Is what he’s being blackmailed with also horrible? Absolutely. But Percy doesn’t blackmail him out of some sort of want for justice. It’s because it means that he’s above consequence at school now. He can talk back to teachers, terrorize classmates, and do whatever he wants without any fear of punishment— because now Leighton fears him. (At least, in Percy’s own fantasized version of the whole ordeal he does)

Percy’s overall end goal is being at the top of this towns food chain, to be feared in a way where they can do whatever the hell they want with no consequence. To be untouchable. To always be the one in control. They refuse to be a hapless victim.

And as far as Percy is concerned, if you do good things then you’re naive. Being a virtuous and kind person isn’t rewarded in this town— even in that stupid bible thumping temple there’s pieces of shit everywhere! This belief also gets further emphasized with them blackmailing Leighton— if blackmail is so effective, then all those goody two shoes really must be struggling out there… well, sucks to suck!

And for Bowie it’s, of course, the underground farm. Yes, it changed his physical appearance drastically and made him have really bad body image issues, but it also made his anxiety about 10x worse. For years he’s been terrified of disappearing— of ending up on one of those missing posters he would catch a glimpse of during his childhood (always hoping he saw them wrong, and then being mortified to realize that they really were there when he finally left the youth ward). He always tried his best to stay safe, to not become just another Bailey orphan lost to time, to join a mass grave of people he never fully knew. But alas, he’s only eighteen, and never had his own wallet to manage before, so he ends up being a very impulsive spender… in the youth ward all the orphans had similar rooms, rooms they never got to decorate themselves, with clothes usually handed down from past wards (unless an orphan was graciously dropped off with a bag of their own clothes. Clothes that would inevitably just join the cycle of hand me downs). Bowie never had a chance to buy the furniture he wanted, or the clothes he wanted… so he was very stupid with his money. Thusly, he ended up in the underground farm.

He escaped eventually, but for a while he was genuinely terrified that he was going to be there forever— sometimes he thinks back on certain times there with a fondness, and then feels guilty that he did. Every day he puts that cowbell back on when he could just abandon it is another day he curses at himself. Just another thing that he can resent, further showing his weakness.

[verocitea]

Long time no see! I’m so sorry for vanishing for so long, I didn’t even realize that it had been over two months already!

[aro-in-danyl]

Alastor as a "Gift from God" AU part 2

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

PART 1 here.

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On the day of the first extermination cleanse.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And it was working.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"A human soul."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"They could free you."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"We have a deal."