#yeah i'm putting this in main tags

[princescar]

I am a professional artist

[analtbeast]

For reference this is what I'm talking about: X

Wow Birdsong continues to get worse and worse huh? I got the feeling that Talk was an aggressive asshole from the original callout so I'm not surprised that they wouldn't give a shit about racism. (Being "ignorant" and not experiencing much racism yourself doesn't mean it's ok to ignore racism ffs. Especially antisemitism like wtf???)

But Birdsong continues to lie out of their ass. Oh you were feeling disgusted with yourself for drawing rape and incest and other illegal art? GOOD. But I don't think that's true. You literally were joking about an adult uncle raping his minor nephew days before getting rid of Toffee. I don't know what's worse, you "pretending" to be into it while being too much of a coward to stand up for what's right, or you being into it and now lying to everyone now about being better. At least Toffee has the decency to be open about their illegal ships.

Toffee may be a proshipper but even I feel bad for them here. Imagine being lied to about your friend being open and honest to you just to find out that they were lying this whole time because "boo hoo i was scared you might commit suicide". Excuse me??? I've had friends who were off and on again suicidal but I'd never just hide shit from them because of it, much less blame them for me hiding shit?? That's on you Birdsong for being a slimy, pathological liar.

And it's nice to have solid proof of this group being antisemitic. Like they were obviously stalkers. Deplatform proshippers all you want but going after a minor and every single friend they have? That's fucked. If you go around attacking the same person for years you have a problem. Birdsong should have known that. But now we even have screens from Talk themselves that these people were bigots. And Birdsong knew about this?? And it took TWO times of them being bigots to leave the nazis? Wtf is wrong with you?

Keep Birdsong away from minors, keep them away from any POC especially Jewish people and keep them away from autistic people too considering the shit their sister said and how they see autism as an "excuse" rather than something they dismissed and demonized someone for.

Birdsong lured a vulnerable, mentally unstable person in with kindness and then stabbed them in the back by working with their abusers. They used someone almost 10 years younger than them for their weird fetishes and as free labor and then tossed them aside. And then falsely accused them of horrible things and called them out on them for things they both drew, pretending to be a good person and a victim. Anyone who is their friend is at risk of being another victim. Anyone who gets close to them is likely to be lied to and cast aside for their own goals or for their partner. Honestly I even think Talk should get away from them since they clearly lied about their art and about Toffee. Talk seems genuinely remorseful now that they know the truth, and the fact that they don't care that Birdsong hid the full story from them is alarming. The weird attachment these two have where they excuse each other's horrible actions but also are okay with hiding so many things from each other is disturbing.

Of course, they were never going to come clean about this if their victim didn't speak up. Sure they're all "I'm so sorry I'm just the worst" now that they've been caught. You ruined someone's life and you didn't care until it affected you? How horrible can you get? And even after being so so sorry, they didn't say anything on their blog about it. Only remorseful enough to talk in private so you can silence your victim while never having to take a blow to your reputation? You snake. They were too nice to you and yet they feel bad for being "blunt". They were just telling the truth and you couldn't take the heat. How does it feel to be accused of awful things Birdsong? Except they have proof and your own admission to support them, you had nothing but lies to support you.

I'm disgusted that they still get over 100 notes on their comic pages. That's over a 100 people that are supporting a liar, freak, and a bigot apologist. How many people support them financially? How many close friends do they have? How can anyone look at their blatant lies and betrayal and think "hmmm I want to continue supporting this person"? I really hope that people just don't know. Because this is just another thing making me lose faith in people among many MANY other things.

[northstarscowboyhat]

Haven't been uploading art as much because I'm kind of going through an art style crisis again LOL. Not very happy with my art at the moment, so I've been trying to experiment and practice!

So I've started a new project to help work out the details of my art style. Working on my take of a Deltarune Yellow setting, so have some experimental Clovers!

[periwinklecosma]

no but fr i really enjoy dev's character arc and peri's straight up my new favorite character (<- basic) but people should care about hazel more. she's literally the main character and it's a supremely bad look to only care about her for her relationship with the rich white mean kid

[strawberryamanita]

Do Wilford and Dark kiss on-screen?

Have Wilford and Dark kissed on-screen?

WILL Wilford and Dark kiss on-screen?

When. Will Wilford. And Dark. Kiss. On-screen.

[thesylverlining]

Oh boy, I'm excited/nervous to share this - I wrote a song. About Tech Bad Batch.

I just had... so many feelings about him, and how his life/'death' (as an amazing, actually freaking groundbreaking autistic character, done quite dirty by the narrative's conclusion) was handled, the story choices and the fan reaction to them. Feelings of anger, betrayal, loss, utter confusion due to frankly bizarre story structure and simply falling into fog (where we can't see him) -

Anyway. It's been a lot. For a lot of us. 💚

So this is me processing... All That. And coming to the conclusion that even if aspects of it hurt me, ultimately, stories and the people in them belong to all of us, and our feelings about them are ours and real, even if the characters aren't. Much love to this show and fandom, always. And yes, I feel better now. This was therapy.

(Obligatory: this isn't an invitation for debate or discourse. It's an expression of art, and arguments/drags will be futile. Nice words, however are very welcome. 💜 Also, this song is on Bandcamp, and probably elsewhere soon!)

Lyrics under the cut!

Never thought I'd catch a glimpse of someone like you

Sees the universe and life the way that I do

And best of all, they let you shine

Galaxies illuminate in your rare mind

And you think like me

I knew that you feel like me

When I ran the numbers they all told me you'd stay

Logical conclusions pointing only one way

I never could take much on faith

Always needed evidence no one could shake

But I believed in you

I let myself believe in you

But now you're gone

The story's all wrong

I feel like such a fool!

They told me you would come back

Always supposed to come home

Even waiting for you seemed like a game

Waiting just to see your face

I'd see your shadow every day

But fate gets twisted

And I can't see you.

Playing back the memories time after time

Every place they told me I misread the signs

And every time they'd hint and tease

I laughed along, but the joke's on me

If you had to go,

Why am I the last to know?

But we lace our boots and pick ourselves off the ground

Standing side by side in the joy we've found

Who cares if stories break my trust

When they belong to all of us?

Can you see us all,

Standing by to break your fall?

We've all been told

How the story unfolds

But rebels live on hope!

Hoping that you'll come back

Waiting till you come home

But even if you never return

I don't regret a thing

You would be so proud to see

How we remember

And we still see you.

[justewil]

uhhhh draw a dog

to be honest i don't know how to draw dogs so i drew tom from pb ^_^

i like this part of his wiki page something about it is funny to me

[zhongli-lover-69]

imagine if faulkner had tiktok brainrot. just imagine

ver w no music below the cut

[cherry-bomb1985]

I keep thinking about Hell's words: "This is the only way it should have ended."

Should. Not could. *Should*.

Like V1 should have been mass produced, obliterated all the Earth Movers, and then the next machine should have come along to counter it in turn and continue the war. Like all that fighting and the cycle of violence should have been perpetuated.

Like Mankind should never have finally gotten their act together, and tried to continue on even in the absence of divinity and in the face of total climate collapse.

There's a notable difference between 'could' and 'should', and the fact that those words are spoken by the only one who would've been *extremely disappointed* by this outcome has me raising eyebrows.

[1tbls]

i have spent. a goddamn year of lunch breaks. in this cat breeding game. to create. the perfect kimharry cats. and here they are.

harry is a black classic tabby. kim's coat is black tortie smoke with mittens, rex texture, and also the bobtail is very important.

[spotaus]

New Age AU (The Camp)

Hello and welcome back to another New Age drabble! As always, fuck it we ball, no editing or rereading! This one is fresh off the press!

And!! Hello to @ancha-aus @papiliovolens and @mutzelputz ! Hope y'all enjoy!

Things had been looking up.

   Now, the bar for what was 'better' was set pretty low, but this time, right now, managed to reach it.

   Shortly after the collapse of his former kingdom, Cross had known there was no way he could ever show his face there again. His closest friends were dead, his brother was trying to rebuild things from the ground up, and his presence would only hinder them. If he, the king's loyal dog, stayed? It'd cause he'll to break loose.

   So he left. Alone. In the night. Nowhere to go but anywhere better than there.

   He walked.

   And walked, and walked, and walked, until he came across a town where he could find a place to sleep, a spot to eat, and to find out what the hell he'd do next.

   He had almost hoped that no one would recognize him in the neighboring kingdom. That he'd get off scot-free, but they knew. He was too focused, too quick to draw his blade, too alert.

   He unsettled the patrons at the inn, he was too efficient for the dock work, and the shops wouldn't have him keeping his sword on his hip. He refused to be without it.

   And so within a few months he'd exhausted his resources and had to move on.

   But. Just before he boarded the ship that would set sail for some new dock, he had been rushed into by a wirey, tiny skeleton. Knocked clean off his feet and almost directly into the lapping sea below the docks.

   Cross was not easily placed off-balance. The skeleton was stronger than he looked.

   And he looked... really nice.

   Cross, as he stood his ground, found that the skeleton paused to stare at him. Big, colorful eyelight filled crescent sockets which squinted in delight. A big smile reached the corners of his eyes, and a huge smudge of some darkness patterned his cheek, breaking up the pure while bone of his skull.

   Cross hadn't seen another skeleton monster in ages, aside from his brother. Especially not one with as much expression as this one. Dressed head to toe in colorful fabric sashes and pouches and bags, every one with a new vibrant color. It must've been expensive to-

   And then he'd spotted that this ethereal skeleton had a familiar pouch in-hand. A pouch with a hand-embroidered "X" on it. His coin purse.

   The moment he'd seen it, it seemed the skeleton had noticed, because he practically rocketed off the dock. Cross had followed without a thought. That was his pouch! One if the few things that were ever his. He needed that back, boat be damned.

  

   And so Cross had chased this mysterious skeleton all about town, not losing his track for long when the other managed to slip away.

   It felt like the worst game of cat and mouse he'd ever been a part of. But, it was somewhere outside if town that the skeleton led him to. He wasn't even out of breath when he came to the clearing just off the path. The skeleton had been out of his sight for twenty minutes, but his transportation magic was pungent. Cross knew exactly where he'd gone.

   And he'd found him.

   Grabbed him by one of his scarves abd snatched his pouch back. It was empty, but that was fine. Most of his gold was inside his armor anyhow.

   But before he left, the skeleton had laughed. Had said he was impressed he'd been followed. Wondered what he was doing setting sail on that dingey of a ship before. Cross hadn't intended to sit down, he hadn't wanted to. After all, this guy had stolen from him.

   Yet, the skeleton mentioned he might have work for a soldier like Cross. Paying work. Work that would have him moving about. Away from whatever he was running from.

   And Cross had sat. And asked about the work. And Ink had introduced himself.

   Ink was an assassin for hire, something which had made Cross grimace and almost leave once more, but Ink swore Cross wouldn't be expected to kill anyone. Just... make sure no one killed Ink while he was moving from job to job. A bodyguard of sorts, just until his name was off the radar again.

   He promised gold, and food, and respect. People knew him everywhere he went, a sort of folk hero (though that wasn't what he'd said) and so Cross wouldn't be as judged for his past.

   It had been an easy sell. Scam or not.

   Cross had some things to get used to. The first being that Ink had no soul. He hadn't noticed it because the other was draped in magical items, but Ink was entirely soulless. Along with that, he had an awful memory.

   To work around it, Cross had taken one of Ink's scarves to replace his bandana that was destroyed in a fight. The familiar item seemed to keep Ink from getting spooked by Cross. It was almost familiar to Cross, how to Ink he was no different than one if Ink's other cloth-wrapped belongings.

   And it was two years, traveling with Ink. Helping him keep on track for his kills, keeping folks from trying to ambush him. Fighting local city guards attempting to arrest them.

   It was a life on the run, but it was better than being dogged in his own hometown, missing his friends and family. Some shadow of a fallen king.

   But, now, things were looking up.

   Ink had said he was going to be going dark for a bit. To help an old friend. One who Cross might like.

   One who was setting up a rebellion against the evil tyrant who'd taken over his home kingdom in order to defend his peoples. A righteous warrior.

   Cross had to admit, the closer they drew towards the encampment, the more excited he became. He wasn't able to help in the last coup he lived through. Maybe he could be of help during this one.

.

.

   The chattering and happy voices weren't what Cross had expected upon finally reaching the end of the game trail. Ink had insisted there was no main road to the encampment, and that they had to use the secret entrance, which consisted of a thin trail that wove between all sorts of flora and snagged at his fraying uniform.

   When they'd emerged, Cross had certainly not expected to find himself standing before a beautiful flower garden.

   It was a landscaped space reminiscent of the gardens back at the palace. It was smaller, obviously, with less variety, but the first step onto the rocky path which led towards the back of a meager cottage made his heart skip a beat.

   The colors were to plentiful, and a butterfly flitted past him in a way that completely had him enamored. It was thanks to muscle memory that he didn't freeze up completely to admire the flawless plants in more detail.

   Instead, he soon found himself up a set of wooden steps, just behind Ink, hand on his swords hilt in preparation.

   Ink knocked on the door.

   It sounded thin, and Cross wondered just how old this building was. Colorful curtains drawn over the windows gave an impression of a fresh life to a building which clearly was on its last leg. The ground creaked under the slightest shift of weight.

   The door swung open.

   His focus was entirely absorbed by the person on the other side of the door. Another skeleton.

   Of course, Ink was shorter than Cross, but this new skeleton was shorter than Ink. He had bright blue eyelights and was wearing what Cross could only recognize as training armor. Old iron scraped up in battle and worn more casually when a soldier was among allies. It was adorned in shades of blue and yellow heavy fabric, and Cross was a little amazed that the little guy wasn't dying in the summer heat right about now.

   "Oh, Ink!" The skeleton inside greeted. "You're... actually right on schedule! That's unheard of for you." He seemed to look over his shoulder a moment.

   Cross followed his gaze, catching a slight view into the inner portion of the cottage. It seemed warm, and decorated, and homey. Too messy for his tastes just at a glance, but he had to imagine it was cozy for those who lived inside.

   "You can thank Cross for that one. He's been keeping me on-schedule for..." Ink trailed off at that, reaching a hand back to knock his knuckles against Cross's padded tunic, just over the center of his ribs.

   "Just barely two years now." Cross supplied meekly, focusing on Blue, "It's a pleasure to meet you."

   Blue seemed to perk up at Cross' words, and nodded a bit.

   "Right! Yes, forgive me, I am Blue." The skeleton, Blue, supplied with a grin. "It's a pleasure to meet you as well, Cross."

   Then, after a moment, he peaked it head back inside to look at something beyond the door, then looked back out to the pair. He was clearly guarding the threshold.

   "If you wouldn't mind waiting out on the front veranda? Dream and I will coke to meet you and guide you to the planning tent." Blue requested, and gestured to the left.

   Cross could only imagine the porch wrapped around to the front, and he nodded in agreement as Ink shot off in that direction without a warning.

  

   Blue shut the door, and Cross took his time walking around the side of the old cottage.

   Dream.

   That was the name of the person leading this revolution. Cross was eager to hear more, solely because Ink didn't always have his facts straight. His memory made it more likely that he was making things up to fill the gaps than anything else.

   He'd made this Dream guy sound like a saint, and frankly Cross didn't believe it. Kingdoms can be bad, but the things Ink was saying sounded cartoonish. Blood sacrifice and godlike power? No way was any of that right. He needed to meet this guy and hear what sort of real threats this tyrant posed, and hear how Dream planned on going about claiming power.

   Cross had seen a plan like this go poorly before. He didn't plan to let another one happen on his watch.

  

   As he turned the corner, he was greeted with a shocking sight.

   Not far past the front fence of the cottage, was a large clearing with a river running through it. Dotted around the edges of the grassy clearing were all sorts of large canvas tents. Ones that reminded him a bit too much of a battle encampment.

   Only, the tents were strung up with colorful flags atop, banners of what had to be the Royal insignia of the kingdom in gold and purple, and, most strikingly, that was where those sounds of joy had been coming from.

   People were talking, there was a dirt patch in the center of the place where it seemed there were people training, others cheering them on. The scent of warm food wafted past him and made his mouth water. Just from a distance, it seemed like a little sanctuary. Hidden away on the outskirts of a kingdom.

   When he finally reached Ink's side, the other had hoisted himself to sit on a low-bearing railing that circled the porch. It barely seemed to hold his weight, but he coukd care less. He seemed content to kick his feet and watch the people out in the main area.

   Cross remained vigilant (then again, when didn't he?) and was quick to turn when the front door behind them eventually swung open with a heavy creaking noise.

   There, trailing Blue out of the front door, was a radiant skeleton.

   His magic alone felt like a warm breeze had passed a summer path and let flower petals gently drift by to make a scenic masterpiece. It was unlike anything Cross had ever felt, and he tried not to look dumbfounded when the skeleton's eyelights skimmed up and over the scene before him.

   "Dream!" It was Ink who practically stunt-fell backwards from his perch and rushed over to the skeleton's side without so much as a stumble.

   Cross didn't need to see his eyelights to know they were probably both a bright, striking color. His excitement was evident.

   "Ink, it's good to see you again!" Dream greeted, and to Cross' utter surprise, he reached out and pulled Ink into a quick hug. "I heard from Blue that you brought a reliable friend?" He pulled away just as quickly as he'd tugged Ink in, but he seemed to watch Ink closely with caring eyelights. A soft yellow.

   Ink seemed to take a moment to process, before he gave a single nod and whipped around. In just a moment he bounced off of Cross's side and nudged him for emphasis.

   "Right, this is Cross! He's been helping me, but I thought he'd help a lot with that job you needed done!" Ink introduced, and Cross gave a half-bow. He just hardly kept hinself from saluting in his old fashion.

   Dream finally took a moment to look at Cross as the door to the cottage finally clicked shut on its own behind him.

   It took a moment, before Dream smiled gently at him.

   "Cross, it's a pleasure to meet you, truly." He greeted, reaching out a hand. Cross took it without thinking, shaking it firmly. "I am Prince Dream, and this is my knight, Blue." He added on.

   Suddenly, Cross wished he hadn't accepted that handshake. A prince? Ink hadn't mentioned anything about Dream being royalty?? Surely he'd have been on better behavior if he'd known!

   Dream released his hand, but gave him little time to devolve into panic, and he raised both hands placatingly.

   "Please, don't fret." He asked, "I can see you are not from this kingdom and you don't know the plight we face."

   It was a nice tone. An understanding one, which gave Cross a moment to breathe and think better of dropping to his knees for forgiveness.

   Dream continued, "Undoubtedly you are a brave soul, and a strong one as well. If you truly are interested in assisting us in this fight, I can explain more to you in a moment," He paused, "Though, you have a burden on your shoulders, even so young. Where do you come from?"

   Something about the question was so gentle. So... genuine.

   Cross faltered a bit, "I-" A breath. "I come from the fallen kingdom of Ritten. A high guard, disgraced once the castle fell." He admitted, trying to will his throat to not grow tight in shame.

   "And, may I ask, what brought you to this place?" Dream prodded gentle.

   "My family suffered because I was not strong enough to fight against the oppressive might of my king. I ran away, and now cannot help them." He'd thought hard and long about this. Where he'd gone wrong. Every night for the past two years. "I thought that, perhaps, I might save someone else from the pain of an unhonest rule. At least, based on the picture Ink painted for me of your cause."

   There was a moment of quiet.

   "Mm, I don't remember painting anything of Dream yet though, Cross." Ink chimed in.

   The tension felt broken and Dream's tense, serene aura burst into one of fondness and he turned to giggle at Ink. Blue, behind him, sighed.

   "Figure of speech, my friend." Dream clarified to Ink, before returning focus to, a frankly startled, Cross. "It seems you're passionate. I cannot promise that helping my people will fill that gap on your soul, but I can swear that you will be doing good for them." Dream assured, and Cross couldn't help but agree.

.

   From there, Dream, Cross, Blue, and Ink crossed the lawn. Dream was greeted excitedly by every person they passed, abd Blue helpfully held open a flap to a particularly small canvas tent. One whose walls seemed to block out all the noise from outside, and which most likely prevented any eavesdropping from outside in.

   The four of them settled around a table, Cross sat across from Dream, Ink and Blue facing eachother.

   The table was strewn with a single map, and that map was covered in all sorts of pins and charcoal scratches. Clearly a planning guide.

   Along routes, there were several red X's.

   "Cross, how familiar are you with this kingdom?" Dream asked him as he examined the spread before him.

   "...Admittedly, I don't know anything at all aside from what Ink has told me. We just arrived two days ago." He said.

   Dream nodded as Blue chimed in that Ink was 'unreliable at best'.

   "Then I shall start from what I know." Dream said softly.

   "I am the crown prince of this place. I was raised alongside my twin in the Wooded Castle." He began, and Cross was already a bit surprised. Twins? For monsters, having twins was practically impossible. It was unsafe, and deadly... "We were inseparable. I was to one day claim the throne, and he was to be my closest confidant. My advisor. We had always been thrilled by our coming futures. I was to be crowned and gifted our familial magic on our 13th birthday."

   There was a deep, deep sorrow that suddenly seemed to overtake Dream's face. Blue slumped a bit in his own seat as they both seemed to have their eyelights glued to Dream.

   "Just months before our celebration, Nightmare became paranoid and distant. He told me that if I went through with the ceremony that something bad would happen. I'm not sure who placed this idea in his head, as I had been trained from a young age to withstand and control the power. A birthright handed on from my mother's father to my mother, and from my mother to me." He explained, "He did not listen to me, did not trust me."

   A miniscule flinch of Dream's shoulders. "During the ceremony, as I was presented with my birthright. An apple, meant to pass on my mother's life energy as well as untold power. My brother rushed up and snatched it from my hands. Consumed the fruit, and was changed by its overwhelming force. He did not inheret the full power, nor was he the same after it washed him in a dark and potent magic." Cross was uncertain. Anxious. What kind of kingdom was this? "Shortly after he took the crown, he... he cast me out. Banished me to a neighboring kingdom."

   Dream seemed to take a deep breath. "Since that day, my people have been suffering. Someone or something is in my poor brother's head, whispering horrible lies to him. I was unable to help him when we were young, and it has led to the horrible state of our kingdom. He is using the power granted by our ancestors to flood the people's crops and to destroy their sources of income. The people cannot survive this way much longer. I need to liberate my twin from those who are twisting his mind. So I may reason with him and help guide him back towards the truth."

   Cross was taken aback.

   Dream literally had an evil twin, and was meant to take the throne.

   "There have been many attempts to gain information on the king's whereabouts, but anyone the smaller rebel groups have sent have never made it back." Blue took over the story. "Dream has been searching for a person strong enough to infiltrate the castle to bring us back direct information. We are blind aside from the word of the people."

   And the dots fell into place. Cross would be this spy, if he agreed on taking this job.

   The others seemed to sense his hesitancy.

   "You can back out this moment if you like, no hard feelings." Dream had added hurriedly, "I am aware that our circumstances are looming for an outsider, and it is a lot to ask of a stranger."

   It was sincere, but Cross knew himself too well. He was in too deep the moment Ink had told him of Dream's plight. There was no way he would turn down this fight.

   "I... want to help you. What else do I need to know?" He replied simply.

   The room seemed to fill with a sort of relief at his admission.

   It seemed to take Dream a moment to collect his thoughts, before he gestured to Blue. The Knight was already out of his seat and rushing out of the tent. Cross figured this meant they were getting serious.

   "My first rule," Dream stated, "Please, for your own safety, avoid facing my twin at all costs." That was... a strange one. "I would fear for his death at your hands, as I truly don't wish to see him dead. Only, he is too powerful for even an army of men to face, let alone one skilled warrior. It would be your death, and I do not wish to send you to the gallows."

   Then Dream sighed, "I have had Ink searching for a worthy candidate for this mission. I would send him, but I fear he would forget his goal and attempt to assassinate my twin. And be killed in the process."

   Cross gave a nod.

   "The second thing to know, is to avoid the Knights. They always wear masks, visages of big cats from across the realm. As far as we are aware, there are three of them. A tiger, a lion, and a black panther." He informed, brow furrowed, "You are not from this area, but I can tell you that the masks are a tradition of our heritage. They are only given to those whom royal blood deem as their most trusted. The masked monsters cannot be trusted, and when together, cannot be faced alone."

  

   Cross hardly had a moment to place the information into his mind before Dream seemed to jolt, "The panther is the strongest of them magically. The lion the strongest. If you come across them on your own, please, just flee with what you've found. All of these people are criminals and vagrants, the lowest of the low. Hostile and dangerous." He reiterated, until he gained another nod from Cross.

   That was when Blue entered the tent once again, his arms filled with maps and scrolls and... was that armor?

   "We have reason to believe that the power in the castle does not keep a close eye on their guard. The plan would be for you to slip in among a grouping of new recruits and investigate further once you are dismissed from your first round of duties." Dream explained.

   Cross figured that could work. He was already a soldier, always had been one, so he wouldn't have to employ his terrible acting skills.

   There was only one thing eating at him.

   "And... what will I be searching for while I'm there?" He asked boldly.

   That was when, almost like a cue, Blue set a scroll before him. It seemed to be a list of locations, people, and imports and exports.

   "That is a list of all the things in which Nightmare has destroyed in the past year. All the locations and people affected by his wayward deeds." Dream explained, "I ask of you to listen, and find word of where his next area of disaster is planned to be. That way Blue, myself, Ink, and the others might intercept his Knights before they cause more harm to my people."

   Okay. Just information.

   Cross almost wondered if it was fate which brought him here, to sit before the radiant prince and his loyal followers.

   He'd eavesdropped on his father and spoken with his siblings enough to understand exactly what Dream was hoping he'd find. Plans, schemes, people even thinking of slandering this king who he could crush under his boot.

   This list was full of names and towns, written in a gentle cursive script, no doubt written by hand by Dream. Like there was a mourning etched into every stroke of the quill.

   "Alright. I'll do it." Cross confirmed, though mostly to himself. Then, "When do I set off?"

[basicallyjaywalker]

misako truly is the baddest bitch of all time bc she pulled not only one son of god but both of them and neither was ever mad at her for it she was just serving that hard

[iersei]

AT THE START OF THIS ROUND WE WERE BATTLING AGAINST A SIGNIFICANT DIFFERENCE. A WHOLE 20% BEHIND ONCE AGAIN.

AND NOW WE'RE HERE.

NEVER DOUBT THE POWER OF COMMUNITY OR GLENN'S SEX APPEAL IN FRONT OF ME EVER AGAIN .

[discount-elysium]

so I feel like 'Vacholieres absolutely have a derogatory term for RCM based on the reflective patches, but I am just not clever enough to come up with it

like, you can't tell me that all cops have a single universal identifier on their clothing and there isn't some sort of "pigs" or like "jackboots" equivalent for it

[babacontainsmultitudes]

So do we think Rebecca's parents are also centrists or are they two people on opposite sides of the political spectrum and Rebecca had the mediator role thrust upon her just like Sparrow did? Hmmm???? Important questions, important questions.

[morelikesin]

🐶 Don't worry, little buddy. I won't let anything bad or overly deadly happen to you.

🐰 I promise to take you with me when I merge with the godhead.

Enjoying the ride, Sam?

-

Also known as some season 3 quotes that I read much too deeply into.