Idk if I’m thinking about this wrong… but was it even possible for Thalia to be the Hero of the Great Prophecy?
I know that by the end of The Last Olympian, we know that the prophecy could be interpreted differently, but we also know that until the prophecy came to pass, it was taken to be about one child of the Big Three who would die because of the line ‘a single choice shall end his days’. Annabeth, Chiron, and most people generally interpret this as Percy, as the hero, dying.
But obviously the key word there is his. And since Thalia identifies as female, and going based on the presumed interpretation that the prophecy foretold the death of a child of the Big Three - the him whose days will end - then in no world could Thalia have been the hero of the prophecy, and neither could Bianca.
Spoiler:
Throughout the books, it is drilled into our heads that deciphering a prophecy before it is complete is nearly impossible because the lines could mean anything. As you've said, The Great Prophecy centered around a half-blood of the eldest gods with a line saying 'a single choice shall end his days', making it seem like a child of the big three gods is a boy who is destined to die. However, once the books reaches it's end and the prophecy comes to pass, we realize that:
• 'A half-blood of the eldest gods' lacked the mention of a specific gender, but was indeed referring to Percy since Bianca died, Nico was too young, and Thalia opted out last minute.
• 'A single choice shall end his days' was referring to Luke, who made the choice to stab himself in his Achilles Spot, ending his life and thereby stopping Kronos from rising.
In other words, had any of the remaining big three kids been of age and made different choice, it very well could have been any one of them. Everyone was just fixated on Percy because he is a half-blood of the eldest gods and is a boy, so he seemed like the perfect candidate. It's a clever misdirect by Rick, so I don't blame you for being confused lol
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Do you ship...
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OKAY SO…. the one where you run your fingers through their hair? aventurine 🤫 (also forgive me if it’s kinda long…)
why? because it reminds him of how a mother stokes the first few strands of their child. or how a sister brushes hair from their siblings eye when they play. aventurine as a child has this messy tussled hair— something about not being put together is so vulnerable.
anyways, as he lies their on the couch, you reading a book, your hands subconsciously running through his blond locks- he stops.
there is a poem i read by Dilruba Ahmed called ‘Phase One’ and the ending part hits so deep. I suggest you read the rest of the poem yourself!!
I forgive you. For growing
a capacity for love that is great
but matched only, perhaps, by your loneliness. For being unable
to forgive yourself first so you
could forgive others and
at last find a way to become
the love that you want in this world.
He won’t say anything, simply silence. and in those twilight hours, does he unravel and silently say ‘i love you’
13. Playing your fingers through their hair while sitting next to them on the couch. | "I forgive you, for growing a capacity for love that is great but matched only, perhaps, by your loneliness; for being unable to forgive yourself first so you could then forgive others and, at last, find a way to become the love you want in this world." — Phase One, Dilruba Ahmed
For all that he is, and for all that he wants to be (even if he is what he wants to be), Aventurine's pristine appearance buries beneath the child that is unkempt, unpolished, ragged. He wears clothes bearing the names of talented designers in the cosmos; has a watch from some pricey brand you fail to recall; is clad with shoes that touch the ground with a resounding clack, clack, clack because they are made from materials you would not see, as a regular citizen, in their lifetime.
Aventurine is always dressed to the nines, similarly strutting like a peacock with its tail raised: all thousand eyes darted and watching you, an observer, stare back.
Yet, in the arms of a beloved, the untouchable does not remain untouchable, and instead, becomes vulnerable, like shedding armor after a deadly battle. His head lays on your lap, while you idle your time away, nose buried in a book he's gotten you the other day. Time is often a luxury, and what time spent here just staring at you can be spent elsewhere making money, hungry for more, and greedy for everything, but you are here; simply unaware, or just blissfully ignorant that every second sitting here is wasted.
But you don't have that mentality, do you? You've lived life with no urgency to it. Failure falls upon you, and you decide it's okay to stumble. There is no moments where you have to sit and lap at your wounds, because there was nothing for you to get hurt from; nothing to heal from.
Your fingers course through hair normally styled, perfect, and, to you, the simple act is nothing. You've known security from the start, and he's yet to be familiar with it. Perhaps he's slowly doing so, because, when that realization comes to him, it stings.
It stings his eyes, and he turns his head away from you.
(You know more than you do. When Kakavasha turns, hot liquid staining your pajamas, you innocently swipe a thumb over his eyes to wipe away the tears. You let him weep, silently.)
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Ok so i absolutely love all your comics, they’re so funny and I love the art, but I want to specifically shout out how you draw Neuvillette. He’s so squishable. Just a guy. He always looks faintly disturbed in some way and I want to bundle him up in a blanket. 10/10.
anon I genuinely didn't realise that was always the vibes I drew him with but I went back through all of the fontaine art I've done and. yeah. you nailed it. thank you so much this is such a compliment
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HEY. POINTS FINGER… any thoughts on how everyone reacted when the other joined the team? as in how did killer react when dust came, how did he and dust react when horror came, how did they all react when cross came, etc. i love love LOVE your bad sanses thoughts way too much they make me so happy. if i write hurt you write comfort and it’s awesome. also how do you think they slowly started to get closer? just.. bah give me your thoughts on them!!!! any thoughts!!!!!!!!!
You fool!! You’ve given me a chance to ramble about my special little guys and now this post will stretch on forever!! Mwahahahahah >:3c
No but seriously this is probably gonna be wicked long cause I have 1 million thoughts about these guys joining and meeting each other so uh, readmore for everybody’s safety and sanity
(^ I wrote that in the document before I started typing out my actual thoughts and uh
yeah no kidding, this is like a fucking essay so proceed with caution)
OKAY SO
I’ve said before that Nightmare got Dust for two reasons; one being that Dream had just recently started working with Ink (and soon Blue) so he and Killer were no longer able to gang up on Dream. He wanted somebody else to bulk up their numbers and give Killer a little back up. He also was starting to realise that Killer didn’t handle being alone very well, since this was when he most often got worked up and broke things around the castle (and sometimes tipped over into stage 3). Dust would be a perfect fit since he had the same amount of lvl and fighting experience as Killer, and since they were so close in circumstance they would be practically like brothers right?
The irony that he thought this about a guy he was recruiting to help kill his brother was apparently lost on him.
They absolutely hated each other. Like, it was instant. Killer saw him as a replacement, why would boss go out and get another sans - one with almost the same backstory as me - when I’m right here? Does he think I’m not good enough? Am I disposable and this is the backup for when I die in combat? He didn’t take it well. He took it all out on Dust too, not cooperating in battle, trying to start fights in the castle, etc. He couldn’t outright kill him because Nightmare had given him strict orders not to, but Killer loves a loophole. If he roughed Dust up down to 1hp and something else happened to finish him off, technically he’d followed orders.
Dust just straight up didn’t want to be there. Nightmare just showing up and yoinking him had worked fine with Killer, but Dust had wanted to sit in his empty au and die, he had no intention of joining a team or doing work of any kind - good or bad. The only reason he didn’t just lie down and refuse the entire time was that he had to fight back against Killer, as much as he wanted to die he refused to give this ass the satisfaction or lvl. He didn’t intend to be any help out in the field either, but again, Killer was making sure he got fired at so he had to retaliate to stay alive.
Eventually it got bad enough that Nightmare had to pull Killer aside and demand answers. In the year or so of knowing him Killer had never willfully disobeyed orders before, so Nightmare needed to know what had gotten into him. He dispelled the replacement rumour right away, he still wasn’t quite softened up enough to be sappy about it but he made sure Killer understood what a good worker he was and that Nightmare had no intention of losing him. It didn’t help a lot, they still hated each other for other reasons, but it eased a little.
Killer still had pretty frequent dips into stage 3, except now he would go straight for Dust usually. Nightmare had tried to explain what he’d learned about it to Dust, but he didn’t really believe that it wasn’t just Killer deciding to try and kill him for funsies. He only accepted it after a particular episode where he attacked Nightmare instead, which Dust knew Killer wouldn’t try in his right mind.
After he came back to his senses he sought Dust out. The air around Killer was very different after a stage 3, sort of sombre and almost calm, so Dust let them sit together and Killer apologised for giving him such a hard time. They actually talked for the first time in months while Killer was still calm (or tolerable, as Dust describes it), and it didn’t magically fix everything but, things were a little better. They still fought and argued and bothered each other but it wasn’t as sharp, there was a lack of real murderous intent in it all, and sometimes after an episode they would talk a little bit. It was the best Nightmare was going to get for now, so he took it.
They were still completely incompetent about taking care of themselves though. Neither of them would eat unless prompted and Nightmare didn’t have good enough knowledge of mortals to know when that should be to stop them passing out from hunger on the job. Not to mention the stars were now a full team, and with the way Killer and Dust would sometimes rather target each other on the field he could do with more backup.
Horror was the first of the group to get a choice in joining. Nightmare had taken note of how much Dust didn’t want to be part of things, and while it was in his best interests in the long run given his situation, Horror’s au was still mostly intact - though a little in disrepair. Horror was also the first in the group to have a good (and ongoing) relationship with his brother, so Nightmare knew he couldn’t just pop in and steal him, he had to be a bit more diplomatic with this one and offer a deal.
He gave Horror some time to think on his proposal - he would set up regular deliveries of food to Horror’s au in exchange for him joining their team - and was quite surprised when Horror agreed, with some stipulations. Horror was equally surprised when Nightmare agreed so easily to his terms (that he didn’t want his brother to know what he’d be doing, and that he wouldn’t kill). A little down the line the terms were altered to add that he would also be left to visit his au every week or so.
Horror was not impressed meeting the other two. He didn’t need his power as judge anymore to sense the lvl coming off them both, and given who they were working for he was instantly distrustful of them both (the uh, brother situation did not help). He was also in a place that had an abundance of food for the first time in probably years, so he was doing a lot of going hog wild in the kitchen and then getting very sick as a result.
Dust didn’t particularly feel anything for him. This guy hated him, sure, but it wasn’t forward and slashy like with Killer, it was just quiet loathing which was fine. That’s how Dust felt about himself so, y’know, mood. He did kind of feel sorry for him though, not just because of the whole famine and everything, but also because he was watching this guy eat like his life depended on it and then get sick and undo it day after day. He was the one who suggested Horror getting his food in moderation to Nightmare, which did help but was an absolute ordeal to enforce. Y’know how some people get hangry? Imagine that but you haven’t had a proper meal in years and now these people give you tiny amounts of food and don’t let you eat more for hours. The hunger mood swings were a sight to behold, you would never have guessed in those days that Horror specified not wanting to kill.
When his ability to eat had evened out and he was in better shape, Horror made a point of apologising to Dust for being aggressive with him. Over time he’d kind of softened up on him from his initial impression, since he could see plainly how wracked with guilt Dust was over his situation. It was a little easier to imagine that whatever he’d done was truly out of desperation and not just for fun, as Horror had assumed at first sight.
They also both retained that classic sans laziness, so it was easy for them to share a space while saying and doing nothing. It made Horror the first person that Dust willingly spent time around in the castle (and vice versa since Horror was still largely suspicious of Nightmare and Killer - the deal seemed too good to be true and the stage 3 episodes didn’t help). As time went on, Horror kind of became Dust’s emotional support skeleton in a way. Dust had become quite averse to touch in his solitude and Horror very slowly brought him back out with casual gentle touches, until not only did he no longer freeze or stiffen at being grabbed but Dust would seek him out to flop next to on the couch. Horror claimed it was just returning the favour for helping with his eating situation, but really it was nice to have something resembling a friend here.
Killer, for his part, was going through This is My Replacement 2: Electric Boogaloo. Not to the same degree as with Dust, since Horror was quite a bit different, but Killer was still wary of this new addition. He didn’t really instigate anything though since, to be honest, Horror had the intimidation factor. He was like a foot taller than both of them, he had a cracked skull and completely different magic and it seemed like every time Killer saw him he was eating bread like a wolf eats a deer. So while he was going through his food moderating, Killer mostly just stayed quiet and kept his distance.
Horror had not softened on him like he had with Dust, since Killer didn’t openly show remorse. He still watched him with distrust, especially after seeing the way he scrapped with Dust for seemingly no reason other than for violence’s sake. Killer was still mostly targeting Dust in his stage 3s, but Horror had to be careful to stay out of his way since he was still working with much lower hp than the other two. What did start to convince him was seeing how similar Killer and Dust were after a stage 3 episode. Once Killer was slightly more composed (ie stopped crying), he became so tired and quiet and blunt about things he normally joked his way around. It was a little startling, but also started to bring Horror around to the idea that Killer might regret his actions too, just buried under several layers of whatever the hell is also wrong with him at any given time.
Killer and Horror only really started interacting after talking about Dust. Killer was asking how he got Dust to like him since he seems to hate everyone and everything else, Horror told him very pointedly it was because he wasn’t trying to kill Dust. Killer admitted he wasn’t trying to kill Dust, at least not anymore, he just wanted to fight for fun. It opened up a better channel of understanding, knowing that Killer did not actually have murderous intent behind his swings (stage 3 notwithstanding). It made it easier for Horror to occasionally get involved in the roughhousing which Killer delighted in, knowing that the other two knew how to hold back enough to keep him from dusting.
Speaking of stage 3, it was around this time that Killer and Dust made a very important deal. After a particularly rough episode with a little too close of a call, Killer showed up in Dust’s room and begged him shakily to make a promise - that if he ever got too out of control during one of his stages, Dust would kill him. He’d been told over and over by Nightmare that it was impossible for Killer to hurt him since he was immortal, but now there were more people around him where that wasn’t the case, and he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he came out of a stage and found himself alone. Dust promised.
It’s also worth mentioning that, once they were all close enough to be on speaking terms, Horror started bullying the shit out of these two about eating. Now that Horror knew neither of them were going to kill him, he felt safe enough to pick them up by the scruff and set them at the table to say they weren’t leaving until they had at least a snack. He let them pick what they would eat - he wasn’t that cruel about it - but he had to see them eat at least 3 times a day or they would hear about it.
It was by no means perfect or regular, but after about half a year Nightmare finally had henchmen who ate food and worked together (mostly).
Now here’s the problem… I still haven’t really figured out how or why Cross joined the team. Like, obviously there’s some kind of point in the events of underverse where it splits off into an alternate timeline, but I haven’t really figured out where yet so. Leave that one with me just a little longer. Cross joins.
Nightmare really truly didn’t intend to take anyone else in. They were (mostly) getting along, they were pretty well matched to fight the stars, he had no need of more mortals.
…but he was also pretty soft at this point. Every one of them had taken a blow to his I’m immortal I’m an island I don’t get attached to others persona and he’d gotten pretty damn fond of them all. This was why when he felt the sheer weight of loneliness radiating off of Cross, he just couldn’t bring himself to leave him.
So Cross entered the castle.
He did not particularly intend to stay or make friends, he was trying to get his world back and nothing more. He even revealed a little down the line that he outright refused to kill, and was quite surprised to find that Nightmare was fine with that. At the start he was polite but not friendly with the others and mostly kept to himself.
Dust, as is often the case, did not really have an opinion. Another new guy, this one was self sufficient and didn’t bother him so he had no reason to get involved. He was content to be in the same room as Cross but didn’t start up any conversations.
Horror felt the need to speak to Cross, since Dust would happily stay silent for years and Killer was, well, Killer. Horror was somehow the closest thing to normal they had, so he was the one that made small talk. Mostly asking what Cross would like for meals and encouraging him to pick something he liked when he got the answer of “anything is fine”. As Cross settled in a bit more and actually opened up, they bonded over being the only two to enjoy food. Horror made a point of adding chocolate to the stock they kept in the kitchen and making tacos here and there for Cross.
Horror was also the first Cross kind of warmed to, mostly because he was the one devoid of lvl and Nightmare had mentioned he’d also said he wouldn’t kill. Learning a little about his au’s situation only softened Cross to him more, especially seeing that he still cared a lot for his brother and was trying to protect his home (even if Cross found it unthinkable that he lived away from it). It was through Horror that he also got accustomed to Dust, how being quiet and distant was kind of his default and that he also felt deeply haunted by the loss of his world. They weren’t exactly friends, but it was comfortable enough.
So now boss had taken in another new person, someone who takes orders like a soldier and fights with knives and ruthless precision and aims to be his righthand man, and Killer was ecstatic. By now he’d mostly put his fears of being disposable behind him, Nightmare had gotten a bit less subtle in showing how important they all were to him and Killer felt confident he wouldn’t be replaced. Which was a little bit funny, because the only guy he didn’t feel threatened by was the one who absolutely competed for his spot.
Cross needed to prove he was useful, he had to feel like he earned his keep and that all the training and suffering he’d done was for a reason. When Nightmare sent them on missions, Cross aimed to be the fastest and the most efficient and to report to Nightmare without question. Horror and Dust looking on would have expected Killer to see this 100% as a threat to his position as (self proclaimed) Nightmare’s second in command, and to go for this guy’s throat when nobody else was around.
But Killer was fascinated. Cross was completely different from any of them, bar Nightmare whose au is a whole different kettle of fish, so he had a certain element of unpredictability to him. Horror and Dust were both based on classic sans just like him, so to a certain degree he knew how they would feel about most things and what they might say, the only differences being in what they had experienced through their own timelines. Cross was based on a swap sans and his au had taken wild twists and turns away from usual events, so Killer had to learn everything about him by poking and prodding for answers or observing from a distance, much like back when it was just him and Nightmare. Cross was something new to be studied and Killer loved taking notes.
Cross did not see this as friendly. He was competing with Killer for approval, not realising Killer was playing their contest like a game. When he saw Cross training he would jump in to spar for fun, but Cross saw his rival trying to get a jump on him and take him out of the running. When Killer would hang around and pester Cross in their off time with questions, it didn’t seem like someone taking interest, it seemed like someone being nosy and looking for weaknesses to exploit. When Horror mentioned that Killer was being surprisingly contained and friendly, Cross really thought he was fucking with him.
The first time Cross was willing to even consider this was the case was when his locket came loose on the field and Killer ran back to find it, since one of the notes he’d taken was how the locket wasn’t something Cross would play about (the same as Horror with food). It didn’t make sense for someone who was seriously competing to have him kicked out to just hand his necklace back, no ransoms or attempts to crush it to upset him, just some vague remark about “owing him one” and then right back to Nightmare for orders.
Cross had to give him something of a chance after that, Horror helped a lot by telling him “he doesn’t want to hurt you, he just doesn’t know how to be normal”. It was mostly a playful jab at Killer, but reframing their interactions changed it significantly for Cross. Now they were sparring playfully and having friendly competition on jobs. He wasn’t as put off when Killer went into stage 3 because he knew he could match him in combat and the others were always on hand to help restrain or distract him. Cross also took note of how Killer calmed down a lot for physical touch, not unlike how Dust had warmed up to Horror. It went a long way into not only making him a little less combative for attention every day, but it seemed to put longer stretches between his episodes (which Cross had also started tracking so they wouldn’t be caught out by them as much).
For his part, Killer has disobeyed instructions in the past to benefit Cross, usually ignoring the task to help him if he’s hurt. He’s also given Nightmare nudges towards praising him because he’s noted that that’s what Cross needs in the same way he needs touch (not that Nightmare doesn’t praise them normally, but when Cross is going through it and needs something). He also doesn’t particularly like chocolate but has made a point of not admitting this to Horror so he can give his chocolate to Cross.
(It’s also worth noting that Cross is the only one, besides Nightmare, that has been to Horror’s au. He offered to help out during the food delivery and got to meet Horror’s Papyrus (who he is a little intimidated by but ultimately friendly with, even though it’s a little weird since he’s a good bit different from his own Papyrus). Dust and Killer can’t really visit for a few reasons, mostly because everyone will notice their lvl immediately and know what they’ve done. Dust especially doesn’t know how he would react to having a Papyrus in front of him again and doesn’t want to put Horror's family at risk to find out. Whenever he visits, his Papyrus asks about Cross now and sometimes tries to make tacos for him (key word tries, he’s still a Papyrus after all). He may have joked that seeing Cross sometimes is “like having another brother but younger and less lazy” and when Horror told him this Cross may or may not have cried.)
And that’s where we are now!
They’re a very strange group who’ve been through some inexplicable events and have all changed each other in one way or another. And whether or not it can be admitted, they are a family c:
Now onto how Nightmare was made emotionally open by each of them!! In this essay I will no just kidding could you imagine this is already like 7 pages long
If you got to the end of this post please drink some water and get yourself a snack
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For t-shirt Tuesday next week: Syril + Dedra + shirts
KEERO SHIRTS THAT GO HARD!!!!!
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Hi! Congratulations and I love your art style. Can you draw something from Carry On? Maybe a sad scene from wayward son?
hello! Thank you so much I really appreciate it <3 <3
I drew baz with his wand holster that simon mentions in Wayward Son. I'm sorry I didn't draw a sad scene, I honestly couldn't bring myself to crack open the book. Wayward son still makes me too sad to think about and I would have been crying the whole time if i attempted one of the sad scenes in there ;~; (I'm very sensitive lol) I got a few more carry on related prompts so there is definitely more to come!
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Hello! Can I request a number 22 "Do you trust me?" "I don't know." from the angst prompt list if this appeals to you at all?
Best of luck with getting back into the grove, I look forward to reading anything new <3
hi! thank you very very much for this prompt - it's delicious. might even reuse it for another idea I have rolling around. i hope you enjoy how this one turned out; it was a great warm-up piece and i got to play around with second person (very sorry if that's not your thing). and on a personal note - I'm a huge fan of yours, so this was a wild ask to wake up to!
cw: mild gore, self-doubt
length: ~1250 words
~~~
You watch as Imogen steps forward. Once. Twice. Her head tilts, and her eyes narrow. Another step. You back away. Your chest is heaving. Why are you shaking? The cold calculation in Imogen’s gaze is unfamiliar. You have been reduced to an object—a threat to be sized up before you are dispatched by those capable hands. And, in a way, you are, aren’t you? A threat. An object. A strung-out puppet without a home.
She is-was-could-be your home, you think. Maybe. She has been. At least, you want to believe that is the truth of it. But how can you be sure? Home has always been an abstraction to you, a thing kept just out of sight, dangled like a lure bobbing just beneath the surface, tempting you up from the depths. It remains just out of reach, it seems. You feel yourself sinking, sinking back into the places the sun cannot reach. It’s safe there, you have learned. The shadows protect you. They are just as much a part of you as the scars that litter paper-thin skin, reminders of rising a little too close to the warm-bright world above.
Imogen’s stare is piercing, the faint purple glow radiating faintly, only detectable in the darkness. Two pinpricks of violet that bore into you from a safe fifteen paces away.
Jagged rocks loom, emerge from the ceiling, the walls, like fingers crooking accusingly in your direction. The heel of your shoe catches on a massive hooked chain, snaking and coiling and disappearing in and out of the shadows. Mist curls around your ankles. Hands clutch at a corseted chest as if fabric and boning could freeze the magic leaking from taloned fingertips.
“This isn’t me,” you swear, and the words sound hollow, distant, echoing, like the air is swallowing them up before they leave your lips.
“It isn’t,” Imogen replies sardonically, but her hands remain pinched at her hips, a faint crimson flickering at her fingertips. “Did you do this?”
Your brow furrows. Three crackling purple spheres appear overhead, and the mist thins. Shriveled corpses sprawl across the stone floor between you. Their skin is ashy and gray, lips dried and drawn back in wild grins that reveal stained, rotting teeth. Bulging eyes too wide for their sockets, bloodshot and unseeing, stare vacantly at the ceiling. Stiff fingers curl into claws, digging into bodies contorted and frozen in expressions of agony.
“No,” you say, “no, of course not.” You shift back, away, away, and stumble over a red-robed thigh. “I wouldn’t,” you insist.
“No?”
You repeat, “I wouldn’t. I–”
“How would you know?” Imogen’s tone is cool, “If you did.” She steps over one mangled body, tutting, thunderously calm. A spark flashes in her fist.
“I–”
“You wouldn’t know, would you? If it was you.” She pauses, stares. Her words are biting. “You told me yourself. Maybe it was Delilah.” You shrink back, away, away, until your back hits the jagged wall, and you relish in the pain because it means that something is solid. The fog in your head is thick, clouding, as Imogen stalks toward you. “Is there a difference anymore?”
A chill runs through you, and the beautiful new corset you wear seems to constrict around your chest, squeezing, strangling. Imogen doesn’t believe you. She doesn’t believe you, and if she doesn’t believe in you, can you believe yourself? She was your home, once, (right?) but the foundation is cracked, leaking ichor and electricity that fries your toes. You need to know. Suddenly, it is the most important thing in the world. Imogen’s confidence in your goodness. That something in you is worth saving. Worth something. (There must be something.)
“Do you trust me?” Your voice is thick, rattling, when you whisper through dusty cords.
Imogen is five paces away, now, and moving closer as you press all you can into the wall. Perhaps you could become a fossil for the next generation of adventurers to find. Compressed and hardened between shale and mineral and away, away from piercing violet. Imogen studies you, unmoving, untouching.
“I don’t know,” she says at last. She brings a hand up to grasp your chin, and you flinch. You have never flinched from her before. (You haven’t.) Her grip is firm. “Should I?”
“Yes,” you say, desperate. “Yes. Please.” Because you need her to understand so badly you could tear your heart from your chest and lay it at her feet if only so she would know it’s there.
“You hurt us. You hurt your friends, Laudna. Look at them.” She releases your chin and spreads her arms.
Bathed in dim purple light, the corpses wear the clothes of your companions. (Have they always looked like this?) Fearne in FCG’s tattered coat, seafoam hair limp and stringy. Bor’dor, his green shawl stained dark with ichor. Chetney, his throat torn out. Orym, bruised, with Seedling and the Summit Blade fallen at his side. Ashton, arm in pieces.
“I didn’t.” You sound uncertain even to yourself.
Imogen scoffs. “Running away again?” (Again?)
Always running. You always run. It has always been easier to run. It would be easier to run. (Why can’t you run?) You want to run away. You cannot go far from Imogen. (Can’t you?) The wall is moving. (The wall shouldn’t be moving. Walls can’t move. Why is the wall moving? Are you moving? Are you? A r e y o u)
“This is your fault.”
Your tongue refuses to move. It sits limp in your mouth like rotting meat. Sour. Disgusting. Useless, useless. Imogen doesn’t believe you. Doesn’t believe in you. Did you do this? This is your fault. Your fault. Your fault. Your fault your fault your fault your fault your fault
You shudder and gasp, and suddenly, Imogen is holding you, but that cannot be right because she doesn’t trust you and why should she because who are you if you are not yourself and maybe you are just Delilah but how can you be sure and and and
“Hey, woah,” Imogen croons near your ear. “Hey, you’re all right; you’re okay. I’ve got you.”
Stale cavern air that tastes of death and decay floods your lungs, and you heave. Your hands and knees scrape against the floor. You need to get away, away. Away from her. You need to run. Before you hurt anyone. Before you hurt her.
“Okay, hey, you’re okay, honey. Dominox got you good, huh?”
Your vision darkens, and your ears ring, and your teeth lengthen.
“What’d you see?” Chetney crows.
Imogen’s arms tighten around you, and you stiffen.
“Give her a minute.”
You shake your head against Imogen’s chest. Bits of debris lodge in your palm, and you savor the sting. Dark hair hangs in a curtain where it has been torn loose.
“Take your time,” Imogen murmurs. Her eyes are not glowing; her hands do not spark. They trace small circles along your back where you can still feel the imprint of sharp stone, and you shiver at the dissonance. “It wasn’t real, Laudna. Whatever it was, it was the demon messin’ with your head.”
A shaky exhale escapes your lips. “Do you trust me?”
“What?” Imogen pulls away slightly to meet your wide eyes. She hesitates. Her mind presses against yours. You can feel her skimming, paging through your surface thoughts like a stone over water before she settles, bobbing, tempting.
“Is it her?” Orym asks warily.
“I think so,” Imogen says, but she remains intently focused, searching.
You repeat yourself through the weight that has settled low in your stomach. “Do you trust me?”
“I… Why are you askin’ me that?”
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hihi I love your art :}
can you draw aroace yinyang 🙏
(/nf of course!!)
happy pride month day 12! my ass keeps almost forgetting to post these
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Do you ship...
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hi! an event called the MCYTblr Recursive Exchange just opened for signups and I was wondering if I could get your permission for derivative or recursive works based on/inspired by your works/aus? in order to put up someone's work for the exchange, they need to have a publicly posted statement of some sort of go-ahead, whether it's blanket "you can make fic/art inspired by my work" or has some sort of stipulations (posting with Inspired by/links back to you or with limits on rating/content, basically whatever you prefer), and I was hoping to submit your dbhc au to the event.
Hi! This isn't actually the first ask i've gotten about this, but i totally forgot to respond since work has been insane lately!
I don't know much about it, and i dont really have too much time to look deeply into the event/what it will be like, but it sounds like a very neat project! And i've always been supportive of dbhc fanworks, so I would say you're more than welcome to make fanworks for dbhc, as long as somewhere included is credit (preferably a link or @) to me/my blog!
If i look more into it and change my mind i'll be sure to say so, but this seems like a really cool fandom event, and i'm honored there are people who would want to support/submit dbhc!! <3
If there needs to be an official title or name to the au, I would first call it "Dbhc," and if there needs to be specification, you can put Detroit become hermitcraft, or "Shep's dbh hermitcraft au" or something. But since I post everything under "dbhc" I would prefer that to be the primary title, if possible! Again, i'm not entirely sure how the event works, so I dont know if that's necessary info, but if anything else is needed from me, feel free to let me know!
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Hi! I have this tiny tempest figure
I always wondered where she's from
Ahh, Tempest Shadow (or Fizzlepop Berrytwist)!!
This one is interesting because she almost looks like a blindbag figure- but Tempest was only released with one pose in the blindbags (seen below) and makes tracking down her toys a lot easier.
(blindbag tempest, shown for comparison)
Your Tempest Shadow is actually from another "My Busy Books" release, specifically the "My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic: The Movie, Busy Book" that also included 12 figures, a playmat, and a short story. (the story being the movie's plot)
It was released approximately 2017/early 2018
Aaaand just like the previous Busy Book (link) I've talked about, the figures included are adorably wonky.
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Hey, Alex, do you ever get lonely?
Clyde: *talking with Winfrey*
Clyde: *more talking*
Alex: ...
Alex: .. .
Alex: . . . Yeah...
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HELLO HI GOOD EVENING.would any of the tiny sillies like to be entered into the oc/au fight bracket (you can pick, any is good!)
also pick a weapon for them, but be aware im probably gonna make it scaled as normal so itd be much bigger than them because i think it'd be funny
(-@kg-fightingring)
After asks of abusing, tormenting, and bullying him.. I think Felix has had enough.
it is now his time.
TO FIGHT!!!!
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sentimental ask game <3
What’s the last recipe you tried?
What music did you grow up on? Describe your parent’s music taste using four songs.
What’s your dream job, if money or convenience wasn’t a factor?
What’s something a friend recommended to you recently?
Most precious item you own.
What are the names of all your pets throughout the years?
What do you call your grandparents?
What’s a hobby you want to pick up?
What’s something that moved you recently or made you feel hopeful?
What did your childhood bedroom look like?
Are there any recurring themes in your dreams?
Any good memories from this time of year?
What do you like about yourself?
What’s your favorite food from what you grew up eating at home?
How do you show affection?
What have you been listening to? Name one song from each of your 5 recently played albums.
Do you like the name your parents gave you? Are you named after anyone? Do you have any nicknames?
What does your dream home look like?
What’s the name of your first crush or first friend?
A piece of media you’re still thinking about long after first consuming it. What about it stuck with you?
What songs were you obsessed with last year?
What was the first album you purchased?
What are some of your favorite pieces of media in your native language?
Is there any sort of folklore or mythological creature you were told about as a kid?
What were you obsessed with when you were younger?
Have you had relationships/friendships you thought would last forever but didn’t?
Quote something from your notes app.
As a kid, what did you play pretend as?
What are your comfort movies/shows?
Tell me about the place where you grew up. Is it known for anything? Do you like it there?
A lyric that feels like it was written specifically for you/about you.
Is there a scent, color, song, etc. that takes you back to a specific year?
An artwork that makes you feel things.
What’s your favorite kind of weather?
Describe an old photograph of yourself/your parents/family that you love.
What were your favorite books as a kid?
Have you ever memorized a poem?
When was the last time you cried?
Are you staying curious? What’s something you’ve learned recently? What do you want to learn more about?
YouTube videos you genuinely enjoy watching.
What was your dream job as a kid?
What was the first time you remember feeling seen (by another person, a story, a fictional character, etc.)?
What do you love about your best friend?
Who or what are you missing right now?
Tell me about a time someone was gentle with you.
A simple pleasure from this week.
What are you looking forward to right now?
What’s different now from last year?
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