#and the parents of all these kids except one

[veturiusofserra]

when you know, you know | s. r.

𑁤 synopsis: in an interview she opens up about how easy it is to be loved by Spencer, sharing the story of how they met and how his love inspired her music.

𑁤 pairing: spencer reid x singer!reader

𑁤 words: 1.090

𑁤 disclaimer: This was 100% inspired by something my bf said a while ago, and I love the song. I hope you will enjoy it too <3

“As we reach the close of our conversation, one thing’s bugging me. In your song “Margaret,” there’s this line ‘when you know, you know.’ Like, how do you just know someone’s the one? I’ve been through my share of relationships, yet I haven’t experienced that kind of thing you sing about. In your song, it’s all so clear-cut, like you can predict the future. It reminds me of a kid believing in the tooth fairy – sweet idea, maybe not quite real. But that’s probably what makes the song so good. It talks about this perfect love where everything just clicks, and all your worries disappear. Maybe that’s what I’m still looking for, or maybe it’s just for some lucky people. Either way, your song paints such a strong picture of love that it makes me wonder if I’ll ever have a ‘Margaret’ of my own.”

“It’s funny, right? The answer everyone gives is so simple: “you’ll just know.” Like love hits you like a lightning bolt, destiny calls, happily ever after guaranteed. But maybe that’s the problem. We get this picture-perfect idea of love from movies and books, and then we miss the real thing when it’s right under our noses. We set these high expectations, these checklists of what “the one” should be like. And if someone doesn’t tick every box, we write them off. It’s like searching for a flawless diamond, forgetting that even the most beautiful gems have tiny imperfections. Because guess what? We all mess up. You make mistakes, I make mistakes, everyone does. Maybe that’s what makes a real connection so special – accepting someone, flaws and all. Speaking of which, there’s this story I wanted to share with you.”

“We're all ears!”, the interviewer and the crew smile with waiting faces.  

“For the longest time, I believed I was destined to give love, but never receive it.  Maybe because... well, let’s be honest, I can be a bit self-absorbed, lost in my own head and neglecting others. But even with the no love life mantra, there was always this yearning for a family, a deep desire for children I could call my own. The ‘what ifs’ terrified me, though. Would I be a good parent? Would they be happy? Could I provide for them? Eventually, I resigned myself to a life of music, making people happy through my art, having a few friends, maybe a tragically young death – you know, the artist’s curse. 

Then, I found him. We both know Penny, but run in different circles. He’s in law, I’m an artist – about as different as you get, except for maybe a shared love of fancy vocabulary. We met at Penny’s birthday party, and while he claims it was love at first sight for him, I just thought he was the most handsome man I’d ever seen. But that was it. He was too shy to introduce himself, and I was sworn off men at the time. Funny how fate works, right?  We never crossed paths before, but after that night, it seemed like everywhere I turned, there he was. That’s when I decided to take a chance, and boy, I was so scared!

All those stories about soulmates and butterflies? They weren’t for me. Anxiety had been my constant companion for as long as I could remember. Butterflies just meant another battle brewing in my head. What I craved was peace, a steady hand to anchor me until I was ready to set sail. So, I built a friendship with him. We shared secrets, dreams, and vulnerabilities. He turned out to be a brilliant mind, a walking encyclopedia with an IQ of 187. Yet, he never made me feel inferior. He found humor in my quirks, and we seemed to complement each other perfectly. The more time we spent together, the more his words resonated: “We were designed for one another.”

And then, it hit me. Love. Deep, unexpected, and all-encompassing. It felt effortless, a perfect fit. But fear gnawed at me. It was all so new, so unfamiliar. Just as I was drowning in uncertainty, Penny, our mutual friend, reached out. She had something to show me – “Margaret.”

“She wrote it?” she asked, intrigued.

“Well, she started it,” I clarify. “Inspired by him, she penned the first lines that night after the birthday party. She couldn't shake the image of his longing gaze, a sight she’d never witnessed before. It felt sacred, a raw glimpse into his heart. The initial draft, rough around the edges, went something like this: ‘just writing for a friend. My shirt's inside out, and penmanship is messy. He met her on the rooftop, and she wore white. He said, ‘I think I’m in trouble.’ He saw flashes of the future.” A gentle smile graces your lips. 

“Seriously, that’s adorable.”

I nod, a blush creeping up my cheeks. “Right? Her words sparked inspiration within me. I wrote the rest, my mind consumed by-”

“By him.” she prompted, leaning in.

“He made love feel simple. Loving me was effortless for him, a stark contrast to the struggle I’d always imagined. It was like breathing, a natural and easy rhythm. He helped me discover the light that had been hiding within me all along.”

“There’s a saying,” the interviewer began, “to be loved is to be changed.”

I smiled. “I prefer a different one: to be loved is to be known. Because maybe, just maybe, he saw the affection within me all along, the part I couldn’t quite see myself.”

“You are indeed full of affection,” she said warmly. “Thank you for sharing this story with us.”

“Thank you for listening. I know it's a cliché, but there truly is someone out there for everyone. You never know what tomorrow holds, but deep down, a tiny spark ignites within us, guiding us towards that love. Trust it.”

“That wraps it up for our interview with the lovely Y/n! But before we say goodbye, there's one more message for her. Can we play it, Jonah?” A nod later, the studio fills with the sound of a familiar voice.

“Hey there, love. Just wanted to say congratulations on the album! You poured your heart and soul into it, and I’m incredibly proud. But hey, can you come home soon? Two days feels like an eternity without you. Miss my other half. Love you tons, sweetheart. And everyone listening, stream Ocean Boulevard! Dex says hi to mom, too.” A meow erupts in the background, eliciting a laugh from you and the studio crew.

thoughts? or prayers idk

#spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer read imagines #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader insert #spencer reid x singer!reader #spencer reid singer #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fic #criminal minds #veturiusofserra writings

[cantheykillmacbeth]

im honestly kinda surprised this hasnt been brought up before, but could darth vader kill macbeth, from a certain point of view?

No, Darth Vader from Star Wars could not kill Macbeth.

We know for a fact that he does not apply for Gender or Birth Parent, as he is male and his mother is female. I also cannot find any information to suggest he wasn’t born conventionally.

There are a few weird little blips on my radar, the first being his immaculate conception by...methods I don't have the willpower to explain. But, as we’ve stated before, conception doesn’t matter (see: Jesus Christ) No matter how the kid got in there, what matters is how they come out. And I can find nothing to suggest that this part of his origin is in any way noteworthy.

Another is his apparent dodging of prophecy, being the Chosen One, foretold to bring balance to the force and all that. But he did. That’s the important part. He did, in fact, bring about the downfall of the Sith and bring balance to the Force. That’s a pretty big part of his character is that he Did Do The Thing™.

There’s also a comment about him being “more machine than man” at one point. It…seems the conclusion was machine, though this also doesn’t particularly flag me as anything to do with Macbeth. Vader is capable of independent thought and identifies as a man. And if one comment about you being “not a real man” is enough, then any man who has ever been misgendered counts. And I refuse to let the transphobes win.

It could be argued that him being revived is a sort of birth, and that could be considered unconventional. But, if that were the case, anyone who had died and come back to life would qualify (see: Jesus Christ) Rebirth isn’t on the same level as an actual birth for the purposes of the Macbeth prophecy. 

In the end, Darth Vader is a person capable of conscious thought who identifies as male, born to a woman, allegedly through conventional means. With no unique exceptions, I’m going to have to give this one a no.

Thanks for your submission!

-Mod Pepper

#asks #star wars #mod pepper #im going to be honest im probably missing something #and im sure i'll get corrected on it #but i'd rather deal with that than open wookiepedia again

[deramin2]

Essek constantly gushing about his partner but pointedly not giving his name hits me so hard in the feels.

Two formative childhood experiences for me:

ONE

I was severely, mercilessly bullied as a child at every school I went to even if they're was no overlap of kids, and authority figures either ignored me or directly told me it was my fault. I was socially toxic. Any other kid who publicly associated with me was also targeted for harassment. I was best friends with a girl around the corner but because I was a couple years younger (in itself an invitation for bullying) and a parish, we could never let anyone know we were friends.

I've been told I should be upset at her for this, but it wasn't her fault. It was the other children who made it a fact that she would be harmed by publicly being my friend. She didn't make those rules, we were both just honest that it existed and there was nothing we could do to change that. The best we could do to survive was at least protect her. And that benefited me by actually having a friend.

So if we talked about each other it was"my friend." No names. No acknowledging we knew each other in public. No introductions to other friends. Keeping that divide up was necessary to survival. I had a couple friends on the same freak level as we and we were in fact targeted with additional harassment to get to the other person. It was a legitimate threat to live with. At some point I just stopped thinking it was ever necessary to reveal who my friends or family are unless it's both explicitly relevant and necessary.

TWO

I learned to use the internet in the late 1990s when anonymity was considered a best practice. Don't give out your age, sex, location, or other identifying information. You don't know who is on the other side of that screen or what they will do to you if they know. Sperate your online and offline worlds to protect yourself.

This helped reinforce experience one because clearly adults also acted like those kids and this just normal human behavior no one will ever put a stop to that you need to be on guard for at all times. Build in air gaps so if one of you is compromised it's harder for the perpetrator to get to other people you care about. Defending them through anonymity is a way of showing you love them.

Also since some family are searchable through have state government jobs that right-wing nut jobs chips target them for, I wanted to make sure they couldn't be connected to me as a queer trans disabled person active online. In case something I said led to them being targeted.

(This is correct advice, even though it flies in the face of modern online conventions. There are tons of malicious people on three internet who will target you and anyone you love if they decide to hurt you.)

RESULT

By default, I refer to people by their relationship to me, not their name. My friend, my partner, my parent, my family, someone I know, etc. Often I avoid gendering them to make it even harder to identify them. I have to consciously consider if the person I'm talking to has any reason to know my associate's name. Blacklist everyone, then whitelist exceptions.

I do this even if both people know each other because the specific association feels dangerous. Better to be viewed as acquaintances than a meaningful relationship that changes how either of us could be viewed. It's not even really a judgement on thinking the person is untrustworthy, I just don't want to spend any extra energy thinking about it. It doesn't even feel relevant because my relationship to this person fellas like it conveys more information that actually matters.

ESSEK

Essek knows both he and Caleb are being targeted by powerful people who have shown they will target loved ones to get to them. Additionally, tensions between the Empire and Dynasty are still high and it could very easily compromise how their own sides view them if it's known that they're romantically entangled with someone from the other side. It could also blow each other's cover and make their meeting places more vulnerable to attack. Especially if their enemies know they could hit both of them at once.

It's genuinely dangerous for their connection to be known, so they don't name names. It's not even a matter of whether Bell's Hells would intentionally misuse that information, but what they also could just let slip to the wrong person. It's not really worth the risk when "my partner" is all the information they actually need to understand him.

My guess is that Essek said "Bren" is hiss partner because they already know a Bren sent them to Astrid. And since Caleb no longer uses the name Bren it would be much harder to connect them. It would have caused more questions, more prying, and more risk to give no name for his partner when directly pressed. So he gives a truthful but less dangerous answer. The anonymity is an act of love.

#critical role #critical role meta #critical role campaign 3 #Mighty Nein #Bell's Hells #Shadowgast #Essek Thelyss #Caleb Widogast #Bullying #Childhood Trauma

[aster-oid]

To the stranger I knew too well

Summary: When your recurrent dreams about a puppet become out of hand, a reality check feels like the only way to get back to normalcy. Fate proves you wrong.

Pairing: Wanderer & gn!reader (post Irminsul), the relationship is heavily implied to be platonic

Content warnings: Reader is gender neutral, mentions of blood and murders but I don't go into details, slight angst, Wanderer is bad with feelings, platonic content

Word count: 7.2k | Soulmate AU

Comments: A special thank to my beta @ladyfocalors for always brainrotting with me about Genshin characters. We'll platonify the Genshin soulmate AU one work at the time /lh

It took you years to understand that your frequent lucid dreams about an Inazuman electricity-wielder leader were actually the memories of your soulmate.

To your parents' defense, every normal individual would have dismissed the idea. While your soulmate wearing an extravagant hat wasn’t impossible, your tales about a place shrouded in darkness and an Electro-user without a Vision sounded like a child's fantasy. There was no such thing in Teyvat.

You quickly got the reputation of an imaginative kid. Adults liked to ask you about your dreams.

"What a smart child you are!", they cooed once you finished recalling your visions. "You could write a storybook!"

Your younger self would shoot them the dirtiest glare they could muster. Unfortunately, adding that the protagonist was a puppet made hundreds of years ago was not the convincing argument you thought it was. To the layperson, your visions were nonsensical dreams.

But you knew what you saw. It felt real. Terribly, shockingly real. Most often that not, you woke up from these flashes with the taste of iron in your mouth, static filling your sight, your muscles locked into place. You were trapped in your own unresponsive body. Even your breath was stuck in your throat. But the worst part of your awakenings was the sticky feeling on your hands. No matter how many times you scrubbed, it lingered on your skin. You didn't know what it was at that time, just that it made you feel gross and that it would sometimes reappear if you washed your hands hard enough.

You learnt what blood was before you knew how to spell the color red. 

When one is repeatedly told that they're wrong, they will come to believe it. You were no exception. As the years passed by, you pushed those fantasies in the back of your mind. The adults in your life must have been right. You were just a strange kid with gruesome dreams, that was all.

Despite knowing that they were figments of your vivid imagination, the sights of snow-covered plains and bloody massacres haunted you well into adulthood. They had grown more complex. Details you didn’t notice as a child seemed obvious now that you had more experience. You could also recall conversations better. That’s how you learnt the name of the body you inhabited. Well, it was more correct to say you learnt multiple names for them. Kabukimono, Kunikuzushi, Scaramouche, the Balladeer... It was like you could never make up your mind.

The puppet you temporarily inhabited was as elusive as the wind: no fixed name to call them and no face to match. They fled mirrors when they saw one, preventing you from seeing their appearance. The only thing you knew about them was their title: number Sixth of the Fatui Harbinger. A seat that was left vacant for centuries according to every Fatuus you asked.

Your constant daydreaming was annoying but manageable until you started having visions about Kunikuzushi taking over Sumeru. You saw them getting experimented on to become one with a robot, wincing in pain at the hands of a masked doctor, rambling about their birth-given right to access godhood, taunting a blonde traveler; a chain of events that could only make sense in a dream. The problem was that your reverie was affecting your daily life. You couldn’t go through a day without getting assailed by memories that weren’t yours. You had to stop halfway through any task, discussing became hard and sleep rarely came to you.

There was little you could do as you didn’t know what had worsened your visions. You were hoping it would go away by itself.

That was until a particularly haunting dream. As usual, you were but a spectator seeing through the Balladeer’s eyes. You saw a hand -their hand- reach for a chess piece, leaning forward as much as they could. Your blood went cold. They were about to fall over the edge of the platform! Your gaze darted everywhere. There was nothing on the distant ground that would break their fall. For the first time in your life, you realized that they could die. Scaramouche, the one you had observed for decades, could die.

You were the only one to realize how far they were leaning. They only had eyes for the violet pawn in front of them, begging and begging with a shaky voice. It had never sounded so frail, so raw with hurt and panic.

"Please, anything but the Gnosis!" 

It’s not worth it! you tried to scream. Stop! You didn't know why this Gnosis was so important to them but it was nothing dying for. Alas, no matter how hard you tried to move your mouth, the body refused to answer to you. You were nothing but a witness of a tragic scene, a powerless ghost with a bleeding heart. Your throat was thick with emotions you were not allowed to express.

Your dream ended in a snap, quite literally. A tearing sound erupted from behind you before you were sent falling down, pain flaring in your back. You bit down a scream as the world turned to blurry shades of blue and fluttering black bangs. The increasing speed made your eyes water and your body burn. You clenched your teeth. The fall was inevitable. Maybe it made you a coward but you couldn't bear to see it. You didn’t want to see Kunikuzushi die. Muttering an apology to the stranger in your dreams, you squeezed your teary eyes shut. 

The last thing you heard was a wet crushing sound, a mix between eggshells broken under the palm of your hand and a fruit being squashed. Your body jolted in your bed and you gagged, fighting the urge to throw up. You had never felt this sick. Not even when you dreamt of unfair massacres.

You sank to the floor, furiously wiping away the tears beading in the corner of your eyes. You couldn't do it anymore. You had to confront your dreaming problem. There was only one solution: if your brain was so adamant on obsessing over an imaginary character, you had to show it the harsh reality, to remind yourself that Kabukimono never existed.

Your trip to Sumeru was the most spontaneous project you ever planned. You were strolling through the busy streets of Sumeru city the very next day with barely enough money to get back to your nation. You had packed the bare minimum in your suitcase to carry it easily, meaning you wouldn’t be able to stay for more than just a few days.

That was, if you found a room for the night. You had no time to check what the usual prices were in the capital before leaving. Now that you were scouring the streets with your meager funds, unable to find a hotel within your budget, you were bitterly regretting your lack of foresight. You sighed. You supposed that the saying was right. Slow and steady wins the race.

As if it had felt your determination dwindling, the crushing sound echoed in your mind in response. You bit your lip, bile rising in your throat. You hadn't been able to forget about your last dream. It looped in your head like a broken record. Even if impulsively leaving your country was one of your worst ideas ever, the quicker you settled your daydream problem the sooner you'd be back to your normal life. 

Your weary steps lead you to an indoor bazaar. The smell of fried food filled your nostrils, making your stomach growl. You winced. The small homemade sandwich you had earlier couldn't compete with the appeal of street food. Unfortunately you needed to save your funds for a room. You let your gaze wander in the crowded marketplace, trying to distract yourself from the appetizing smell. Colorful stalls were full of fresh fruits, potted flowers and intricate trinkets. If you stood on your toes, you could even see a small theater representation in the farthest part of the bazaar. It was a lively place that perfectly encapsulated Sumeru’s charm.

You were about to turn back when your eyes stopped on a blue silhouette near a candy stand. You didn't know how you missed them earlier. In the brown and green crowd, their traditional clothing and their ornamented Inazuman hat stuck out like a sore thumb. They were in deep discussion with the merchant. Turquoise fabric trailed behind them, floating in the wind.

Without a second thought, you cut through the crowd, never leaving the stranger from your sight. Your heart leaped in your chest when they left the small stall. 

"Hey, you with the hat! Stop!" you yelled. To your dismay, the Inazuman did not even slow down. They must have been too far to hear you. Breaking into a sprint, you called again. "Hat guy!" 

You breached the distance in a few seconds. Just as you were about to grab their shoulder, they turned around. A cold hand snatched your wrist, making you wince. When you looked at its owner, you were greeted with a deep scowl and narrowed indigo eyes. 

"Don't." The man’s low voice warned you, his tone full of unspoken threats. You swallowed uncomfortably as your confidence melted away. He managed to be intimidating in spite petite stature and youthful appearance.

As he glared daggers at you, you were hit by a feeling you couldn’t quite place. You pressed your lips together, studying his messy black mullet and his glowing Anemo Vision. The word popped up in your head. Familiar. The stranger felt familiar.

Wiping the feeling of déjà-vu from your mind, you retreated your hand. "Sorry, I was just trying to get your attention." 

"Well, now you have it," he huffed. Annoyance was written on his face. He crossed his arms. "What do you want?" 

A good question, but not one you had an answer to. Running after the man was a spur of the moment decision.

Self-awareness striked you like a thunderbolt. Why were you even doing this? Your goal was to cure your daydreaming, not to throw yourself headfirst into the rabbit hole nor to annoy a stranger with the tales of an imaginary character.

He clicked his tongue. "Hurry. I don't have all day." 

You huffed. It was true that you were taking too much time to gather your thoughts but he didn’t have to be rude about it. 

"I'm looking for someone,” you said tentatively. It was the closest you could get from the truth without annoying him. Considering his foul mood, the stranger would have walked away if you told him you were looking for the lack of existence of Kunikuzushi, the Sixth Harbinger, the person who tried to become an Archon, someone that only existed in your mind.

The man didn't answer, encouraging you to continue with a movement on the head. His black bangs flew in the light breeze. Now that you had a clearer view of his face, the man seemed more bored than irritated. He wanted the conversation to be over with but he still had the patience to hear you out. This realization gave you the courage you needed to talk again. 

"Their clothes are quite similar to yours, but they're red and black. They also have a hat. A huge one." You opened your arms in emphasis.

He scrunched his brows together, looking at you like you were an idiot. "Right. Because the length of their hat is the most important detail you could give me," he deadpanned. 

You fight the urge to sigh. "I wasn't done. I don't know much about them, but they're linked to the Fatui." The stranger's eyes narrowed in suspicion. He was back to glaring at you, his face closed. Unsettled by this sudden tension, you quickly added. "Probably. I'm still not sure about that." There was no Sixth Fatui Harbinger, after all. Your brain had made it up. 

"Of course." His voice was drier than earlier. What little interest he had in your discussion had melted at the mention of the Fatui. You scrunched your brows. You swore you could read another emotion than ire in his eyes, even if you didn’t know what. "Anything else I should know about that... Friend of yours?"

You racked your brain for more details. There was a lot to say about the person in your dream. Their lack of heart, their coup attempt in Sumeru, their bloody killings, the experimentations they underwent... Nothing you could talk about in public without looking crazy, in sum. The only thing you could still mention was... 

"Their name is Scaramouche."

The man went rigid. "What did you say?" he gawked, his eyes wide with shock.

"Scaramouche. I think that's their name?" Truthfully, they were given so many names that it probably wasn't their real one. But it was the one that came up most in your dreams. 

As if it caught onto the tense atmosphere, the wind abruptly stopped blowing. You barely noticed it, focused on the horror shining in the man's eyes. He couldn't believe what you had just said. His piercing eyes analyzed every inch of you with a newfound distrust. 

“Nobody should be able to-” He interrupted himself with a gasp. Recognition flashed across his face. "Wait. You...!"

His face went from surprise to disgust in the blink of an eye. You had barely the time to react before he pulled his hat down over his head, his scowl peeking from behind the rim.

"Of course fate would string something like this..." He let out a bitter laugh. "Has it ever made anything easy for me?"

You watched as crossed his arms, lifting his head to glare at you as if you had purposely wronged him. You tried to appease him by apologizing. "Sorry, did I say something wrong?"

Despite your question, you knew you had done nothing worth this cold attitude. You didn’t know why he was overreacting, why he was looking at you like dirt under his soles.  It’s as if he was personally offended by your description of the Balladeer. You blinked as pieces fell into place. An Inazuman with a strange hat and dark hair, just like the one you were looking for. Could it be…?

"Is that you? Are you Scaram—" 

The man turned around before you could finish your sentence, the blue fabric tied to his hat smacking you in the face. You yelped in pain.

"Don’t use this name." You couldn't see what kind of expression he was making but his flat tone told you enough.

You were standing in front of the protagonist of your dreams.

Reality shattered around you. There were only two reasons for your dreams to be visions of the past. You either were a seer —which was unlikely considering you had no elemental affinity— or you were using your soulmate link. Realization sank in. You had a soulmate. Everything finally clicked together: why you had Scaramouche's memories, why he recognized you, why you never stopped having those dreams… It was because the universe had deemed you a perfect fit.

Your eyes burned with unshed tears. You were not an anomaly without a soulmate, like you were led to believe. You just didn't pay attention to the signs.

"Wait a minute," you gasped. No matter how happy you were about your discovery, it came a lot of terrible implications. "Does it mean that everything is real? The Fatui, the taking over Sumeru part, everything ?" 

Kunikuzushi immediately clammed up. Not even bothering to look at you, he said without a trace of emotion. "This conversation is over."

Strong wind currents flared all around you with him acting as the epicenter of the small storm he invoked. You stared at him with wide eyes. He was getting away! 

"Please!"

You grabbed his sleeve and tugged hard, adrenaline pumping through your veins. The man gave you the dirtiest glare from above his shoulder as the miniature hurricane intensified. But you didn't let him go. You sank your nails deeper into his arm.

"Listen to me!” you said through gritted teeth. “I'm not gonna pretend I know everything about you because that's not true. I only know glimpses of you. Parts of your past that don't make any sense." 

You closed your eyes as the memories flooded your mind. The Gnosis, the laboratory, the crushing sound as he fell down... You didn't understand what those events meant to him. What kind of story they told. It was like you were in front of an incomplete puzzle where all edge pieces went missing. It was impossible to get the big picture no matter how many combinations you tried.

That didn’t mean the little bits of memories you had taught you nothing about him.

"You were hurt. That much is certain."

Your words only rekindled the fire of his ire. He bared his teeth at you. “Huh?! Who do you think you are, talking to me like that?” He stabbed your chest with his finger, forcing you to take a step back. “Seeing glimpses of my past doesn’t give you the right to assume things about me, you worm.”

"But it’s not an assumption. You lived a very long and lonely life. A bloody one too.” You briefly wondered if contrary to you, he had grown accustomed to seeing his hands covered in crimson. You let out a shaky exhale. “But you cannot talk about your life to anyone. No one would believe you if you talked about the Sixth Harbinger of the Fatui or what you were doing centuries ago."

You had the experience to back yourself up. You still weren't sure what the Fatui thing was all about but if you could barely believe it after seeing his memories firsthand, no one else could.

"See, you’re just assuming things again out of pity," Scaramouche snapped. He tore himself from your grasp, sneering. "Guess what? I don't need you to feel sorry about me."

You shook your head. "I wasn't about to."

You were never going to forget the feeling of blood on your hands, the crackling of electricity as you saw someone charred alive, the coolness of a cadaver against your skin. You couldn't bring yourself to feel sorry for this man. It wasn't what someone like him sought. 

Pity was for those forced to live under the ruling of unfairness, not able to object to its cruel laws. Forgiveness was for those that were mothered by this tyrant and dedicated their life to preach its teachings. For now, the Balladeer deserved none of them.

When you opened your eyes, Scaramouche had tipped his hat down, obscuring his expression. His grip on his crossed arms was so tight you thought he was going to break his fingers. 

"You don't understand. You can't understand."

His voice was lower than earlier, almost like a growl. 

It wasn't enough to scare you.

"You're right," you admitted. "I cannot understand you. But I really want to." 

Maybe it was because you knew him on a deeper level than a stranger, but something had changed. You were starting to notice it. The hurt he masked behind a veil of fury. Until his words, you thought he was just an eternally angry man, bitter at the world and at his fate. Now, you wondered if he was just someone who lived through too much. Someone who was ready to beg and kill himself for a glimpse of a better future.

He snorted, disbelief written across his face. “A human like you, understanding someone like me? Don’t make me laugh.” He leaned towards you. You fought the urge to take a step back, withholding his stare with all of the courage you could summon. His mouth contorted into a twisted smile. “You’ve seen what I am capable of. Not only are you fundamentally unable to relate to a fraction of my existence, you’re also unable to withstand it. Understanding me will only bring you trouble.”

“You already do.” Scaramouche didn't utter a word, turning his back to you. You didn't let it get to you, instead squeezing your hand against your chest. "I spent my life stuck with visions I couldn't control. Seeing your memories at random moments robbed me from precious moments with the people I love. From enjoying a normal life, one where I don’t have to fear falling asleep."

Your hands were shaking. Whether from anger or sorrow, you didn’t know. Scaramouche was the one assuming things. You may only be a human, one similar to thousands that have come before you, but you knew how it felt to be misunderstood. How it felt not to belong. Nobody had believed you for decades, nor understood why you were so uncomfortable when it came to sleeping. Even your friends couldn’t wrap their heads about your constant worry of getting lost in the daydreaming. You might as well have been from a different species.

You took a deep exhale. Your anger faded away as quickly as it came. "I feel close to you, no matter how strange it sounds. You've always been a small part of me.” Determination seeped through your tone. “So I won't be able to move on as long as I don't know what's going on with my soulmate."

Soulmate. The word rolled strangely on your tongue. It was the first time you were saying it out loud.

Scaramouche gagged at your word choice. "I'm not looking for a lover." Disgust laced his voice. Seems like you were not the only one who felt weird about the whole situation. 

You shook his concern with a wave of the hand. "Me neither. I'm looking for an explanation. A timeline in a chronological order, if possible." 

Your attempt at a joke fell flat as silence fell between the two of us. Your face shifted into a frown. Had you been too insistent? 

"It's alright if you find the situation strange," you said, trying to save the conversation. "I'm not sure how I feel about the fact that you saw glimpses of my life. This is quite embarrassing...."

You didn't have the most exciting life but there were private moments you wanted nobody to see. Especially not your soulmate. 

He shot you an uninterested look, examining the dirt beneath his nails. "I could not care less about your mundane life."

You blinked. You didn't expect him to get interested in your life as much as you were in his, but was that supposed to be comforting? Unsure how to respond, your face contorted into a polite smile.

None of you said a word after that. You didn't dare move either. Weariness taking over you, you watched as the back of his hair fluttered in the breeze, joining the hypnotizing dance of the blue ribbons. The sound of animated conversations and the ringing of distant bells filled the otherwise tense silence.

You were about to leave when Scaramouche let out the heaviest sigh known to mankind. He finally turned to you, uttering a single word. 

"Wanderer."

Whatever you were expecting him to say, it wasn't that. "Come again?" 

He rolled his eyes but repeated it anyway. "Wanderer. That’s my name. Not Scaramouche or whatever name you heard in my memories." 

You felt your entire face lit up. You could recognize an olive branch when you saw one. "I won't call you anything else, I promise!"

He sighed at your sudden excitement, shaking his head. You were starting to recognize when he was truly irritated and when he was acting annoyed by habit. This time, the look in his eyes didn't match his bored pout. It was not soft by any means, but he did not glare daggers at you anymore.

"I still don’t think someone like you can handle the tale of centuries of existence.” He clicked his tongue. “That being said, I suppose it would be entertaining to see you try. Come to the entrance of Sumeru city in two hours."

Your eyes widened. You thought that you wouldn’t get more than his name, and now he gave you the opportunity to explain his life ? You had half the mind to pinch yourself awake.

"Don't be late Wanderer!" 

He scoffed, readjusting the position of his ginormous hat. “If I were, you'd scream my name in the streets of Sumeru until you get ahold of me. No thanks."

"I wouldn't do that!"

"Oh, really?" A smug smirk took place on his lips. He cleared his throat before taking a high-pitched voice. " 'Hey, you with the hat, stop right there ! I really want to talk to you! Stop, I say !' "

You gasped in shock. "So you actually heard me! Do you not stop when someone calls you?"

"I do. I just don't typically talk to pipsqueaks."

His grin deepened at seeing your offended expression. He even let out a short laugh. You playfully punched the cheeky bastard on the shoulder, not putting much force in the blow. 

Wanderer didn't budge. He instead grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from him. His eyebrows were pinched together in irritation. "Don’t think you can punch me and get out unscathed, kid."

Despite his words, his grasp on you was light, as if he was careful not to hurt you. It was easy to slip from his hold. He was entertaining you, you realized. Considering how harsh he had been when you first had tried to touch him, a light scold was nothing. 

Mimicking a fighting stance, you started shifting your weight from left to right.

"You're the one who's gonna bite the dust! I can knock out someone with a single blow!" You punched the air to demonstrate, a smile blooming on your face. "I can take anyone in a fight!" 

Wanderer pinched the bridge of his nose, exasperated by your playful attitude. "Celestia above, not another Childe..."

You pouted at his words. "Are you calling me a child again? I'll let you know that I'm a fully-fledged adult!" You may not be as old as the immortal puppet but you were no kid by human standards. You were only teasing Wanderer because you needed something light after your heavy talk. He couldn’t base his whole perception of you on a speech stemming from your sleep-deprived self…

He clicked his tongue in his mouth before looking at you directly in the eyes. "You talk big for someone I've seen fall in the stairs several times."

Horror washed over you. Every little embarrassing moment you lived flooded your mind. The fact that Wanderer had seen some of them sent warmth pooling in your cheeks. 

"You said you didn't care about my life!" you said, absolutely mortified. 

"It doesn't mean watching you was not mildly entertaining. Why would I focus on boring Fatui politics talk when I could be the witness to the mess of your teenage years?” Your expression was decomposing by the second, to his delight. "I especially liked it when—"

You cut him off with a nervous laugh. "Alright, alright, I get it. Aren't you busy?" 

His gaze fell into a small pouch at his sides. "I do, actually. Buer must be looking for me."

"Buer? Who's that?" You didn't remember hearing this name in his memories.

"The Dendro Archon," he said like it was the most obvious thing on Teyvat. 

"...Right. Of course.”

Maybe you were a bit too optimistic about his ability to open up to you.

Wanderer couldn't believe himself. Three betrayals should have been enough to teach him that closeness only brought pain. Whether because of misunderstandings, lies or the unpredictable and unescapable scythe of Death, the ending was always the same: he was fated to end up hurt. Alone. Cursing himself for loving too much.

He snorted. He knew all of that and yet here he was, wrapping his job up before his meeting with you. How pathetic.

Part of him was not surprised about this new twist of events. Fate liked to throw him in the most ironic situations. He was currently going on errands for Buer, the same Archon he had tried to supplant her months ago and who took him prisoner. Randomly meeting his soulmate in the middle of the streets was not the most unexpected thing to have happened to him. Far from it. At that point, he was surprised it hadn’t happened earlier.

When Wanderer entered the sanctuary of Surasthana, the Archon was sitting on her swing, humming to herself. The melancholic tune didn’t sound familiar but the lyrics in old Sumerian sang the tale of a love long gone. If he rolled his eyes at the song choice, he was polite enough to wait until the end of the song before clearing his throat.

Buer perked up, finally noticing him. She jumped from the swing and greeted him with a small wave.

"Hat guy!" He cocked an eyebrow at the oh so creative sobriquet, making her giggle. "I’m glad to see you. I was starting to think that you had forgotten about me."

"As if my memory would get faulty. I was held up by someone." Holding his hat to pin it into place, he sat on the lush grass. Reunions with Buer always took a while. He might as well make himself comfortable. 

Familiar curious green eyes landed on him. "Was it a friend from the Akademiya?"

He rolled his eyes. "I had never seen them before."

He had expected this flow of questions. Buer was very invested in his relationships with other people– well, rather his lack of. She had made him participate in social events like the Interdarshan championship to socialize. She even enrolled him in the Akademiya. Her argument was that it would help him understand humanity better, as well as himself. 

The results were arguably mixed. Wanderer admittedly tolerated people a bit better than before. They were predictable creatures but they could be entertaining. Sometimes. On the other hand, he had not grown close to anyone since he started attending classes. Sure, some students followed him around, gushing about the mysterious “hat guy” and throwing a birthday party for him, but he would not call them friends. They were classmates at most. It was for the best: it didn’t matter if Buer claimed he was progressing regarding socialization, talking to him was an experience he wished on no one.

She didn’t seem to agree with him. Excitement and pride shone in her eyes. "Every stranger is a friend in potentiality. That is what makes new meetings so exciting: you might be talking to your new favorite person in Teyvat," she beamed, taking place near him. 

"If you say so." 

Friendship was a human concept. Something he could neither fully understand or get. Melodramatic speeches and lengthy explanations meant nothing to him. That is why Wanderer didn’t try to counter her argument. There was no point in talking about something he knew nothing about.

What he did know was that Buer was wrong. You were no stranger to him.

His gaze fell to his hands. The first time he had seen your memories, Scaramouche had thought he was defective. He had never been able to dream until then. His creator didn’t see the interest in allowing him to do so. The only reason he knew what dreams were was because Niwa liked to recount his when they worked together in the forge. 

One second he was lying down in the laboratory of the Fatui, the other he was in a small bed. Piles of toys were scattered around him, decorating what seemed to be a child’s bedroom. Why on Teyvat was he here? Scaramouche tried to move his arm but it did not move an inch. He cursed under his breath. For some reason, his body refused to listen to him. If it was Il Dottore’s scheme, the man was dead.

Without a warning, his head turned. He was greeted by the reflection of a small child in the mirror of the wardrobe. You.

His mind had been pure madness when he had come back to his senses. He had the time to zap five machines before the Doctor arrived, complaining that his research was being destroyed. The Tsaritsa, the stars, fate itself... He had cursed everything he could think of for giving him a soulmate. There was no other reason behind his sudden ability to “dream”. Fate had decided to intertwine your destinies together. The thought only made him more angry.

He couldn't be mad at the child you were, though. You were barely five. No matter how much of an unfeeling person he was, Scaramouche was not about to hold the situation against someone as young as you. A small part of him, one he had tried to bury for centuries, had even ached to hold your chubby hands in his when he had seen you reach for your reflection.

With the impossibility of breaking a soulmate bond, the Fatui Harbinger had been forced to watch you as you grew. He learnt about your favorite color, the school subject you liked best, the names of your childhood friends, the color of your bedroom, all the details of your ordinary life. He was a spectator to mundane moments, to victories and horrific failures alike.

You had transformed from a kid with shining eyes to a determined adult before his eyes.

If Buer was right and that all friends started as strangers, it meant that you would never be able to grow close to him. You already knew him.

Wanderer plucked a few strands of grass, watching how they fell to the ground. No, hoping for you two to be friends was wishful thinking. You had seen the atrocities he had done as a Fatui Harbinger. Once he filled the gap in your knowledge, you would not want anything to do with him. His erasure from existence didn’t excuse the actions of his past life.

He would not blame you. He deserved your hate. At the end of the day you were another name on the endless list of his victims. Because of your soulmate link, you had lived your entire life plagued by visions you didn't understand, othered because of things out of your control. You were the proof that Wanderer brought suffering just by existing. That he wasn't a fundamentally good person, like the one Buer and Traveler insisted he was. You had every right to loathe him.

That was why he accepted your offer. If he explained everything to you, if he confirmed that every "dream" of yours was true, you would move on. You would forgive Fate for giving you such an unloving person as a soulmate. Maybe you would even want to settle down with someone else... At the end of the day, you'd be free from the chain of destiny. So would he.

The world would let him do a good thing, for a change. 

"While it's true that talking it out will appease both of your minds, you shouldn't only see them as a way to atone for the sins of your past life," Buer intervened. 

Wanderer gave her an unimpressed look, throwing away the rest of the grass strands. "One day, you will have to answer for all of those breaches of privacy before the General Mahamatra."

"Talking about your thoughts with someone else can help you sort them out and gain new insight. I felt like you could benefit from it."

Her growing smile told him that she didn't feel sorry for reading his mind without his consent. He huffed. She was lucky he had grown accustomed to this habit of hers.

She hummed as she stepped in front of him. "Agreeing to a meeting to ease your guilty conscience is not a bad thing in itself. The problem is that you’re assuming that they can only hate you."

“What other reaction could they have?” The answer appeared in his mind before he finished his sentence. “Pity?” Pronouncing the word made his insides hurl. Wanderer would rather feel your wrath than your pity. The former didn’t feel as disgusting as the other;

Buer shook her head. “That’s not it either. It’s alright if you don’t yet understand Wanderer, you will see in due time.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. He preferred it when she used complex metaphors. At least he had the opportunity to understand what was going on in her mind, contrary to when she used vague words of wisdom like a drowsy prophet.

"If I can give you one more piece of advice, you should give this relationship a chance." Seeing his scowl of disgust, she explained herself. "I'm not telling you to pursue a romance with them. Just don't assume that tonight is the only time you meet. Keep your mind and your heart open."

Despite her smile, she had a serious look in her eyes. It was the face of wisdom in all of its assured glory. Wanderer closed his eyes. It was easy for him to forget she was not a young child, like the one he took care of all those centuries ago. 

"There is a reason why they're your soulmate," Buer said. "Don't you want to discover why?" 

"Someone like them has nothing in common with me." 

Your memories told the tale of a simple life. In an ideal world, a normal person like you wouldn't have been paired up with him. How it happened in this one was a mystery. If he was inclined to pity others, Wanderer would feel bad for you. Being his soulmate only brought you experiences that you couldn’t talk about to anyone.

“You cannot talk about your life to anyone. No one would believe you if you talked about the Sixth Harbinger of the Fatui or what you were doing centuries ago.” Their hands shook as they lifted their head to meet his gaze. He stilled. He had expected to read loneliness and fire in their eyes. He only found the glow of loneliness. It was the same he had seen in your reflection all those years ago.

Wanderer hid his face behind his hand. He supposed he was wrong. He could see a few ressemblances between you and him. That didn’t necessarily mean you would become friends.

"Don't expect too much from this meeting. I only plan on retelling my story, not on learning more about them."

Gentle hands covered his, pulling them away from his face before lightly squeezing them.

“You don’t need to. You already know them better than anyone else.” Buer's voice was as soft as her expression.

He opened his mouth but no snarky counter-argument came to his mind. From what little insight Wanderer had gained on friendship over the course of his life, sharing experiences with a potential friend wasn’t enough. You also had to learn about the other person's personality, their taste, the little things they did… Such a process was too much work for a relationship that would eventually decay. But the man already knew you, more intimately than any person ever would.

If to be friends was to learn about someone, he had become yours a long time ago.

Wanderer fought the urge to shield his face behind his hat. It would be as good as admitting to Buer her words had struck a chord. No way he would embarrass himself like that.

“You're not going to give up, are you?" he sighed.

“While I do hope you will form a bond with them, I will not hold it against you if it doesn’t happen.” She took some time to think, trying to come up with a convincing imagery. “Fate is a tricky concept. It steers you in a specific direction but it cannot force you to follow it. No matter what, you can always make your own way.”

He let the words sink in as he laid down on the cool grass. From the Sanctuary, he could hear the entire city’s hustle and bustle. The sound of the streets mixed with the chirping of the birds and the rustle of the wind through the branches.

He felt Buer sitting next to him. Her voice interrupted his quiet reverie, sounding cheekier than usual.

"Don't I deserve something in return for my good advice?"

Her eyes were focused on the small pouch hanging at his side.  He had forgotten about it, their conversation had distracted him. Wanderer shook his head in defeat. The Archon didn’t need to use her mind-reading powers to know about the actions of her subjects. 

“If you want to be paid for giving lectures, you should think about becoming a teacher at the Akademiya.”

“I would deprive someone from the joy of educating young minds.”

His lips curled into a grin. “Right. Poor them.”

Feeling her gaze on him, he relented. He unclipped the package from his belt and gave it to her, not bothering to sit back up. Buer tried to open it carefully. It was so full that in spite of her efforts, morsels of candied Ajilenakh nuts spilled on the ground.

Wanderer frowned at the sight of the mess. Something churned inside him. If he had known it would be wasted, he wouldn’t have bought so much food.

“Be more careful,” he chastised her. “It’s expensive.”

Buer shot him a perplexed look. He scoffed in response, averting his gaze. 

"I didn't buy them. The merchant gave free samples to bystanders and he couldn't take no for an answer."

Another white lie from him. He had noticed that Buer didn't have much candy left and since he had to go to the Bazaar anyway, he had decided to buy some. He watched as she inspected a piece of candy, rolling it between her fingers. He didn't get why she was head over heels for those disgustingly sweet nuts but he had to keep her in good spirits. Otherwise, she might decide to lock him back in his cell. That and seeing her smile so much sent warmth running in his chest. 

Her eyes crinkled, amused. "A free sample? How nice," she said, popping one of the delicacies in her mouth. He supposed there was no fooling the Archon of Knowledge. She pointed at him. "Your friend hasn't had the opportunity to try food from Sumeru, have they? You could bring them to Lambad’s and keep some of the Ajilenakh nuts to snack on."

“We have other things to do than distract ourselves with culinary tourism.”

“It’s not a distraction! See it as a bonding experience that will allow you to grow closer.”

He arched a brow, unimpressed. “As if I needed something like this to become their friend.”

He stopped after his own sentence. He blinked, not believing what he had just said.

Wanderer didn't know how he ended up in this situation. Truly. He was never one to let Fate decide for him. He defied it at each opportunity, fighting with all he had. This shouldn't have been any different. He was a traveler, an outcast, an outsider. He had no use for a soulmate– a lover. Especially not a human one, one that would be gone in a blink of his immortal life. 

He had no use for a lover, but he supposed that if he had to befriend a single person in the world, it may as well be you.

If you liked this work, please reblog and leave a comment or an ask!

#scaramouche x reader #platonic genshin x reader #scaramouche x you #wanderer x reader #wanderer x you #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #gender neutral reader #scaramouche #Wanderer #genshin fanfic #Platonic genshin impact #Platonic genshin

[gizmocreates]

i know I’m the Dante guy but y’all ever think about how Ryoshu keeps having identities/EGOs that revolve around her being a caretaker/parent/etc

Like I know. Source material. But still, considering Spider Bud is my favorite abnormality, I especially think about her having not just a, but the only spider bud EGO of the group. And not just that—- she has Two of them

Spider Bud is a maternal figure. She’s constantly searching for prey, not to feed herself- but to feed her children. Her methods are brutal, and some would even call them cruel- but that’s not due to her being a cruel spider. That’s just the way spiders are.

And with Spider Bud, one of the most important parts of managing her is making sure your employees have enough wits to Not attempt to kill the babies- because Spider Bud loves her kids, and if you kill them, she *will* retaliate.

then you have fourth match flame, which is based off the Scorched Girl. And. I don’t really have much to say about this one except. Coughs at her source material

she also was the one to get the Nelly ID, which is funny for a lot of reasons, but god the uptie story lives in my head rent free. She’s fucking. Distraught. By Heathcliff’s return. Not because she hated him, but because she hates having to fight the man she raised. There’s a begrudging respect between them, and even as Ryoshu readies her blade and kills her hesitation in order to protect those still under her care, she’s still not happy about what she has to do.

i don’t have some sort of fancy ‘what does it all mean’ analysis for all of this, I just. I think about Ryoshu being a mother a lot. That quashed maternity that still continues to haunt her, that affects how she interacts with Sinclair and even the abnormalities that resonate with her— hrng. I Like Her

#gizmochats #limbus company #random thoughts #ryoshu lcb #canto vi spoilers

[anxiousnerdwritings]

Bellatrix Lestrange having a daughter around Tonks/Charlie’s age who is like a younger, more unhinged but still somewhat replicated version of her this is very, very inspired by Jenifer Check, I love her sm so when you think of Lestrange!Daught it’s pretty much Chrck lmao which she thought she’d absolutely love except her kid won’t do anything she asks for her and absolutely will not serve the Dark Lord cause she worships the ground the Reader walks on, whatever they want and whenever they want it, she’ll do anything for them

Narcissa can’t help cause she doesn’t have a daughter for plots sake we’ll say Cygnus raised her alone meaning the kid had mad freedom, old man just wanted to chill after losing 2 of 3 daughters over politics so Bellatrix goes to Andromeda

and for a solid five minutes all Andromeda can do is laugh because her older sister is coming to her for vague parenting advise

inevitably Andromeda connects the dots and then starts laughing again pointing out the hilarious parallel about Bellatrix being obsessed with Voldemort and now her daughter being obsessed with her own morally questionable criminal or better yet the Reader isn’t a criminal but gets up to sketchy shit sometimes and doesn’t understand why this pretty, violent girl is following them around but goes with it anyways

worst part is that after Rodolphus and Rabastan died which I assume they did in Azkaban then Lestrange!Daughter would’ve inherited the vault, cutting off the death eaters funding and access to the Hufflepuff’s Cup hidden inside, because she’s not gonna betray her darling for some nose-less fuck

Are we talking like an OC?? Cause I actually really love that idea. Especially, regarding Harry’s twin!Reader or something like that, just the parallels between the two only Belatrix’s daughter is on the literal complete opposite side. But in the circumstances it would be Harry and twin!Reader with this older girl staliking following them around, especially outside of Hogwarts. Like, she just hangs out outside of 4 Privet Drive just watching, even breaking in and just wanting to be close to the Reader. You can bet Bellatrix’s daughter would give the Dursley’s a piece of her mind. Or maybe even just take Harry and the Reader to live with her.

I just imagine the Reader waking up in a completely new place all by themself with this older girl hovering over them. And the Reader being kind of okay with it since they’re away from the Dursley’s but they ask their captor/“savior” to go back and get their brother too.

The Lestrange house/manor/estate would probably become the new Order of the Phoenix headqaurters, mainly because Bellatrix’s daughter won’t part with the Reader so they can’t go with Harry to live with Sirius so Sirius moves in to keep an eye on everything. And his reaction to his batshit crazy cousin’s batshit child being obsessed with one of his godchildren would really be something. Like, FUCK NO!?!?!

Like, I could imagine Bellatrix’s daughter having been obsessed with the Potter twins since it came out that they were able to survive and best Voldemort even when being just mere babes. And just her like revolving her world around getting to meet them or something. Maybe when Bellatrix’s daughter was younger but still older than Harry and the Reader she ended up wandering to 4 Privet Drive or having her house elf take her to meet them or something and she did, even if it was for a few minutes.

When it comes to the idea of Bellatrix’s daughter being obsessed with a criminal or a bad witch/wizard, I could just imagine Potter!Twin!Reader having nicked something small or lied about something insignificant and from then on Bellatrix’s daughter was like “That’s the one for me”.

Also, just the idea of Bellatrix’s daughter having stalked Harry and his Twin!Reader for most of their life. Like, I could see them getting Cygnus or their house elf to take them to 4 Privet Drive and she would just watch the whole place like a hawk. Never taking her eyes off of it and getting excited at the smallest bit of movement or liveliness at the home. Or even having the house elf sneak her into Harry and the Reader’s school to pass herself off as one of the students and getting to befriend the Reader even just for a brief time. But afterwards, Bellatrix’s daughter would use that as her excuse to interact with the Dursley’s. She’d happily knock on their door asking the Reader to play with her, that she was their friend from school as to not draw any suspicion. Hell, Bellatrix’s daughter would go as far as getting one of the houses on Privet Drive just to stay close and ending up living there the rest of the time the twins are across the street/down the road.

#anxious answers #yandere oc #yandere harry potter oc #yandere lestrange!daughter!oc #yandere harry potter concept #yandere concept

[writingquestionsanswered]

I have a small question where I would like to hear your opinion on. My MC died in her original world and was reborn into a new one. So she died at 27 and started back again at 2 years old from the body she took over. She is mentally at the original age. So my hiccup is that the story take place when she is 25 in the new world and I'm having a bit of a hard time figuring out how to have her carry herself. Theoretically, she is mentally in her 50's but 25 physically. How should I go on to write her personality? I don't want to say I want her to "act old", but what are some things that might be different between a 25 year old and a 50 year old and how could I best make her more mature? Should I make her more immature in the beginning (pre-death) So that change could be put in place?

Character is Mentally Older Due to Reincarnation

Here's the problem... there are two things needed in order for someone to mature: physical development and emotional development through experience. If your character died at 27, not only is that about the time that brains stop physically developing anyway, she also does not go through any further emotional development through experience.

Even if she is "mentally 27" when she is transported to the body of the two-year old, and even if we say her mental age somehow overrides the physical capabilities of a two-year-old brain, the kinds of experiences she's having over the 23 years in her second body aren't the kinds of experiences that are going to add significantly to her emotional experience. These are all things she has already experienced and learned in her first life. As a 2 to 25-year-old, she's not gaining a lot of experience in things like career, marriage, parenting, layoffs, career changes, divorce, single parenting, dating after divorce, caring for aging parents, etc. Instead, she's experiencing some of the things (again) that are natural for 2 to 25-year-olds to experience, like going to school, making friends, trying to get good grades, social drama, first kiss, first love, learning to drive, first job, graduation, going to college, first-time independence, getting to vote, serious relationships and serious break-ups, perhaps even getting married and having a kid or two, though not getting very far into that.

So, my point is, your character has to live the life of a 25 to 50-year-old in order to gain the experience and maturity of a 25 to 50-year-old brain.

BUT... having said that, I am speaking to you as a person who has lived the life of a 25 to 50-year-old, and I don't feel mentally different from who I was when I was 25. Maybe a little, but not significantly. I have certainly experienced a lot of things during those 25 years, but I still like a lot of the same things, still do a lot of the same things, still think and feel a lot of the same things. I still wear clothes (sweaters, jackets, and coats, mostly) I wore when I was 25. I still watch a lot of the same TV shows and movies, and like a lot of the same music. But also... I'm sitting over here singing to songs that are popular on the radio, watching TV shows that are popular with the 15 to 30 crowd, and comfortably conversing with family members who are in their teens and 20s.

So, a part of it, too, is that once you get past a certain age (mid-20s, really, when the brain stops developing), there's not always this catastrophic difference between who a person is at 25 and who they are at 50 or 70. I mean, there can be... there are definitely those adults who turn into weird adulty robots who feel like they can only drink wine, eat salmon, play golf, and throw wine and cheese parties, but not everyone is like that. Most people aren't. You'll get into your fifties and laugh that you thought you'd be so significantly different from 25-year-old you. :)

Another issue to consider is this: if your character is a 27-year-old trapped in a 2-year-old's body, does that make her like Stewie Griffin, except that's the way she actually sounds to everyone around her. Do you have a two-year-old sitting in the baby seat in the shopping cart at Target, looking at her "new" mother and literally saying out loud, "Oh, Diane... please tell me you're not thinking about buying that. You know how gluten wrecks your stomach. Put it back and get the gluten free one, would you?" Or, do you have a 27-year-old woman who has to pretend to be a two-year-old, and has to sit there making baby talk and saying things like, "Ma-ma... can get cookie? Pwweeeease?" It's really awkward, to be honest, and I can't imagine how mentally taxing, frustrating, and demeaning it would be for your character.

So... what to do? There are two options that I can see, but keep an eye on the reblogs in case anyone else has a suggestion:

1 - Compartmentalize her adult consciousness from her two-year-old consciousness until she's maybe ten or twelve. So, almost like she's a prisoner inside the body of a child, but she doesn't know what it's thinking and can't control what it says or does. Like they're two independent beings and she's just along for the ride, silently commentating and even trying to get through to the kid to little or no avail. Maybe sometimes, if she mentally screams loud enough, she pops into the child's consciousness as a subconscious thought. Then, for whatever reason, as the child ages, her voice gets through more and more, and she gains control of what the child says and does little by little, until finally she has fully become the child when it's maybe 12 or 15 or whatever age you think makes sense. So, that might look something like this:

Childhood: I'm dressed in my--rather, Bella's--favorite Bluey shirt and a pair of shorts. The birthday party is at an indoor play area called Bounce, and I can almost feel Bella's excitement as she drops her gift off at the table and runs to join the other kids on a giant trampoline. They didn't really have places like this when I was a kid--the first time, I mean. My next door neighbors--the Andersons--they had a trampoline in their backyard, the kind with the net cage around it, but my parents wouldn't let me jump on it except during neighborhood parties when there were lots of parents watching. At least I... Bella... will sleep well tonight.

Teens: "Hey, Bella!" Maxine said as I joined her at the lockers. "Are you going to Brant's party tomorrow night?" Ugh, Brant's party. I had forgotten about that. What an absolute turd. He reminds me too much of this guy Jared I dated briefly in college, in my first life. I'm obviously not going to tell Maxine that. "Nah," I say at last. "I don't like that guy enough to go to his party." "Why don't you like him? I think he's cool!" "Oh, he just reminds me of someone I used to know. Wanna head to lunch?"

2 - Give the adult consciousness a bit of amnesia and have her start to remember things over time. In this sense, there would still be some compartmentalization early on as far as being a separate consciousness from the child's, but in this sense she would be less like an adult imprisoned in a child's body, along for the ride and commenting from the peanut gallery, and more like a faint awareness that is more distant, but becomes more aware and close as time goes on. That might look something like this:

Child: Bella is wears her favorite Bluey shirt to the birthday party. She is such a happy, friendly child. The other kids welcome her with smiles and open arms as she joins them on the trampoline. I wonder if I went to parties like this in my first life?

Teen: Bella's friend--my friend--Maxine greets me as I join her by the lockers. "Are you going to Brant's party tonight?" My stomach sours at the thought of that guy, though I don't know why. Perhaps I knew someone like him in my past life. The name Jared suddenly pops into my head, and I briefly wonder what this guy did to past life me that I carried dislike for him into my second life. Not wanting to get into all that, I make an excuse about having to help my mom wallpaper the guest room. "See you on Sunday, though, so we can study for the test?" "Yeah, see you then," Maxine says, closing her locker. She smiles, but I can tell she's a little salty. She knows social gatherings exhaust me, though. Sometimes I wish I could tell her why--that I've been through all of this before, not even that long ago. But she wouldn't understand.

So, in either case, you're not really worrying too much about the nuances of maturity, but rather a general "adult" perspective as it relates to this child whose body it's inhabiting.

Anyway, I hope that helps!

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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[lovezbrownies]

Mad Science (Yandere!Mad Scientist x GN!Reader.)

Masterlist

Synopsis: You and Julie's love story is beautiful until it isn't. Until she treated you badly until she brainwashed you to forget what happened.

Mad scientist Julie McCanister x GN!Reader.

Warnings: Manipulation, drugging, forced parenthood, Julie's bad with feelings, arguing, entrapment.

Your childhood best friend never was popular. Everyone hated her because she acted ‘strange’ but you knew better. She didn’t act strange to be edgy, she acted that way to shoo away everyone she hated. Which happens to be… everyone! Well, except for you, the person who relentlessly followed her around as a kid just so you could befriend her. And it somehow worked!

Julie McCanister never intended to make friends, hated her siblings for being annoying, and mildly tolerated her parents. Everyone knew she was a gifted genius from birth, she completed all of her milestones very early on and then stuck her nose in books from age 7. Thankfully her dull parents saw the signs and transferred her to a more prestigious school at age 10, where she finally met you. Some aristocrat’s favored child, while you weren't smart enough for her Julie decided to accept you nonetheless.

Over the years you had made sure your friendship stayed strong, even as you became popular you spoke with her more than anyone else, sat with her at lunch, and always defended Julie whenever someone spoke badly of her. Julie doesn’t know why you act the way you do but she can’t say she hates it. It took her a while to finally understand why she feels weird when you do something endearing for her.

When Julie decided to do something about you she was in her early twenties. She kept pulling and pushing you around in her lab, mumbling about hypotheses and telling you to say certain phrases, she had wires connected to your heart and brain as well as her own. While this behavior is new and weird you just put up with it. You want her to be as happy as she could be and if that meant being one of her scientific projects then so be it.

As of that moment you had graduated and looking for a job, while Julie is still in college, pursuing a double major master’s in BioChemistry and Astrophysics. She was the university’s star student, though Julie couldn’t care less for the attention, as long as people take her and her research seriously she couldn’t give a darn about the fame she garnered. Julie has received a lot of gifts from the university, like the massive lab you two are sat in within that day.

Julie told you to sit down on one of the dissection tables and just… continually stare at her. Weird but maybe some research about an individual’s natural reaction to being stared down. After a few seconds, the machine connected to Julie’s heart began beeping rapidly and her face was red. Concerned you were quick to ask.

“Are you okay?”

And then the machine began beeping louder and faster. It was so loud it hurt your ears physically, yelling out in surprise you covered your ears with your hands. You saw Julie hurry over to turn off all the machines, including the one connected to you. She looked to be so deep in thought, walking back in forth and yet again mumbling to herself.

You watched on for a second, not wanting to disturb her but you also wanted to go get food and go back home. You hesitate as you speak, slightly fearful of the consequences of cutting off her train of thought, “Uh… What was all of that about, Julie?” Julie abruptly stopped, head slowly turning your way, as if she finally noticed you were still there with her. She just stared at you, eyes blown wide and her hands holding onto each other behind her back.

Oh this felt horribly awkward, Julie kept staring her eyes shifting from one part of your body to the other, then finally meeting your own eyes. “You. You are an issue, my dear,” Problem? You? What? Head tilted and eyebrows furrowed you insanely confused by everything she’s said and done today. Julie knows you’re confused so she continues, ready to explain her hypothesis to you in its entirety. 

“I theorized that you might be the cause of certain issues I’ve been having since the age of 19. I can see your confusion, please stay with me as I explain this.” Julie then forced you to sit through her scientifically explaining that she’s madly in love with you and that all of these experiments were to test how she reacts to you. It took her 4 hours to finally finish her explanation, why didn’t you cut her off? She wouldn’t allow you, she would shush you then scold you for not paying enough attention, that since you're not paying attention she'll have to explain it all over again.

“So… you like me?” 

“Yes, I am romantically interested in you. Confessions out of the way we are now in a romantic relationship. Congratulations, let's go on a date now.” And she did in fact take you on a very romantic date. May be hard to swallow all of that information, but at least she doesn't break promises right?

And you accepted her confession, you can’t lie to yourself and say that her abrasive personality isn’t attractive, cause it most definitely is. And so is she, short bob-length blond hair that has layers and gives into her mad scientist look, pale skin from the lack of sun, always wore a necklace you gave her in the 10th grade, and a constantly hunched-over back. Julie had bright blue eyes, long lashes and thick eyebrows, big full lips, and a hooked nose to boot. She was the epitome of gorgeous even if she didn’t know it.

It was a wonderful relationship, you two stuck by each other, loved each other unconditionally, and when needed Julie loved to kidnap those who hurt you and use them as horrible illegal experiments. She always came back to you in a better mood, explaining the day’s experiments minus all the torture and illegal activity. You and Julie now both 32, life was good, you both had a house, though not very big as Julia had explained. “Save energy from cleaning and we do not need all that space.” Though you two still aren’t married, Julie saw no need since you and her will love each other no matter if you have a ring on your finger or not. 

You sat alone on the couch, book in hand you tried to stave off the boredom as you waited for your girlfriend to finally come back home. Julie had begged you for ages to just quit your job and wait for her at home, she’ll spoil you, she will give you full access to her bank, anything! As long as you stay home and wait for your scientist to come back! Plus it’s safer for you overall, no more people trying to steal you away when she’s not there.

Finally, finally, the door clicks open, and your girlfriend walks in with a… baby basket? What the fuck, what. You immediately jumped up from the couch, hoping to god she didn’t do what you think she did. “Julie… Honey, what are you holding..?” Julie smiled kindly at you, walking off to the kitchen with you chasing after her, she placed the now clearly baby-filled baby basket on the kitchen counter. Why… Why does it look like a mixture of you and Julie.

Julie leaned against the counter, next to the… the baby. “Do you recall my Asexual Reproduction of Sentient Beings through Magic research? Well it works, I used a combination of your DNA and my DNA to create it. And now we have to study the effects of this here baby for the rest of its- I mean hers, it’s a girl- study the rest of her life and parent her. Concluding my explanation, knowing we now have a child we must marry soon to not cause any complexes as she grows into a smart lady.” 

You stared at her in silence, horrified by the explanation you stood frozen. You couldn’t even comprehend it… One random Tuesday afternoon your girlfriend of 9 years just… suddenly brought a baby back home and expect you to go along with it that easily? Hell no! Was it so hard for her to take your feelings into consideration? What the fuck.

You stutter out a response, “W-What??? Julie, what the hell are you saying? Is this a joke? What? I-I’m so fucking confused, are you being serious?”  You couldn’t understand this at all, why would she do something this illogical when she prides herself in how smart she is?? Julie sighs, for some reason looking disappointed for you questioning her randomly bringing a baby back home for you to care for.

“I don’t understand why you’re so confused. I am being completely serious. You don’t have a job for a reason. To care for our baby.” Julie explained as if it’s the most painfully obvious fact in the world, as if this is a completely normal situation. That throwing a baby in your arms out of nowhere and think you’d just casually accept it with no questions. 

Your mouth hung open in disbelief, eyes wide, “N-No! I-I- What is wrong with you? No way. No fucking way, I am not taking care of a baby I never consented to have! You-You can’t just spring this out on me and expect me to be cheerful! I am not some robot who-who will bend to your every whim!!” You huffed and puffed in anger while Julie looked bored, as if you were just throwing a bratty tantrum and that you’d be over it soon. But no. You were sick of it all, she’s been so strange and off-putting lately and you’re not liking it. Julie’s been so uncaring of your feelings since she started this stupid asexual reproduction project of hers. And you wanted out.

You grabbed your head, stepping backward a few steps. You look at her straight into her, she’s always been shorter than you thankfully so it was easier to take back charge of the conversation, without of course actually intimidating her. “You haven’t been acting yourself recently, and I’ve wanted to talk to you about it but honestly it looks like you won’t ever take me seriously. I am your little pet after all. But this… this just opened my eyes and…” You took a deep breath turning around, back now facing Julie.

You let out a heavy sigh, “I don’t think we’re going to work out if you’re going to treat my feelings like this… You- Nevermind. It’s over. We are over. I-I’m sorry I-.” Another sigh left you, tears falling down your cheeks as you began to walk away. “You’re such an idiot dear. But no matter. I’ll fix you up.” You ignored her words, you don’t care if you’re stupid, you don’t care that what she said seemed very threatening, and you can’t find it in yourself to care.

Hm. Had she been too harsh? Was what she said too much? Should she have asked if you wanted a kid first? Well, it isn’t really your choice now is it. Julie needs to complete her research and that must include two loving parents of a child. Nevertheless, Julie wasn’t too worried, as she had baby-proofed the entire house. Including a new home security system, one simple word, and every door and window is bolted shut.

“Mooncalf. Don’t run too far now.” And there went the magic word, Julie can hear your grunts of struggle as you attempt to open the main door, but of course to no avail. Looking back at the somehow still silent baby Julie saw that the baby was dead asleep, smiling softly Julie opened some drawers and grabbed the chloroform she hid from you, and a small towel. Walking over to where you currently are– which is at the house’s front entrance– Julie shoved the chloroform-covered rag to your mouth, the stress from what had happened earlier had weakened you significantly. Something Julie is most definitely grateful for. 

The chloroform won’t last long. Julie has to act quick. First, she must get you to the lab and put you into a medically induced coma, find a nanny to care for the baby while Julie is busy with you, and then use her inventions to the best of her abilities and completely rewire your brain, make you forget the fight, make you want a baby as much as she wanted one, and live a happy, married life with you.

#gn reader #yandere oc x reader #yandere x darling #yandere x reader #oc x reader #yandere oc #tw yandere #x reader #yandere #gender neutral #female yandere #female x reader #Yandere x reader

[frostythefrostedfox]

Don't you worry, you'll be to told exactly what to do I give my people the lives they need The righteous will succeed

You know what I don't like about rebel stories like Hunger Games and Divergent? That we never get the opposite, how about a compliance story?

Something that always bothered me about certain videogames is how they never ever, not even for one second, entertain the thought that you might not agree with them, they all follow the same formula

MC is respected member of [SOCIETY] > MC has encounter with bad side of [SOCIETY] > MC is told not to question things > MC questions things > MC turns sides > MC opposes and wins against [SOCIETY]

But what if I don't wanna? Why do we never get a videogame like that?

I want a game where the MC discovers the truth about the place they live in, and even with that knowledge they stand up and say "Ok and?" and carry on with their life; and that's how this fella was created

My young impressionable mind was exposed to Syndicate (2012) in 2013, the cover looked so cool and all the promo material online was great, it even had the theme song done by Skrillex, Nero, Flux Pavillion and Digitalism (for the people that likes real music and is reading this, that used to mean a lot, they were huge and everywhere for us noise-enjoyers), but the late part of the game and the ending never really... caught my attention, I always found the introduction of the game a loooot more enjoyable, before Kilo becomes a rebel and fights Eurocorp.

And that is why I created this fella. You can even call it a semi faceclaim.

Just like Kilo, born to a syndicate to serve the syndicate, except that i wasn't Eurocorp, it was Cayman Global, following their in-universe explanation that DART-6 has not been reverse engineered by any company and is propietary software of Eurocorp, Cayman decided to try their hand at it with what knowledge they have on it, and that is how they came up with the idea of Speciality Chips, or S.C, they work similarly to DART-6, with its own schizophrenia inducing voice interface and all, except that they don't enhance every single part of a 'soldier', instead they are using to make people 'better' at their jobs, depending on the role and occupation chosen for them at birth.

Fake memories of a fake family and a fake childhood, an AI prompt fed into his brain by the SC as a child to mould his personality to what Cayman needed it to be, with fake hardships to strenghten his character and fake triumphs to make him proud and happy. And every single thing he remembers doing as a child was a stage play to nurture and test his abilities, a continious selection program where only the best move on to the next phase while never aware that they are competing; every single one of those kids he beat at Spelling Bee as a child were just like him, and their failure meant their removal from the program, another job at Cayman Global will be found for them that fits their skillset, same thing for karting tournaments, academic score, everything.

His parents are just company employees told to act a certain way to incite certain reactions, records of who he was born to are probably kept somewhere, but who cares anyways, for as long as he believes those are his parents, they will do.

The only thing that makes him a somewhat rare candidate is that he is not a single child, he has a sister, also put throught the same program as him, just for another role, using a different version of the chip for a completely different purpose.

After years of serving Cayman Global and earning his Black Stripe clearance, one of his missions has his evacuation transport crash and drop him into the sea, after his chip entered power saving mode due to not consuming enough food or water, it was the first time he ever experienced fully thinking for himself, not having his thoughts molded, suggested or coerced by any company directive, and he found those thoughts to be quite similar to the ones he had before, questioning the methods of execution of Cayman Global, but not their ideals or beliefs. Why was he floating in the sea for so long? Shouldn't they pick him up as soon as his signal dissapeared? If the SC is an AI, do they all have different personalities and voices? Is his specially made for him?

Upon arriving Someplace, Somewhere in [COUNTRY], his chip came back into service, except that now they had a different set of information and ideas, his head filled with questions that the SC couldn't answer, but none of these doubts ever put his allegiance into question, so none of them got reported back, which would have ironically gotten him rescued faster.

Eventually he came across some locals, his uniform and armor damaged, no longer sporting any visible mark of his employer, they took him in, unaware of who he was; they certainly wouldn't have if they knew he was working for the exact same company responsible for making their life so miserable.

Time passed, he learned things from the locals and the locals learnt from him, all of his training was very real, and it showed, a trained agent like him could do things these guerrilla fighters only dreamed of, eventually being a prominent voice in this little tribe that nursed him back to health, he got a taste of what being in power was like, and he liked it, and his SC was taking records of it.

This sudden change in approach to a more professional and organized course of action peaked the interest of the tribe's enemies too, they couldn't have learned these things overnight, someone was helping them, their first thought was a rival syndicate, and so they dispatched a whole bunch of agents to deal with the new threat, ironically one of these agents being his sister.

The two were fated to encounter, and that is exactly what happened, just not the way they expected it, and certainly not the way they wanted it, and totally against the syndicate's wishes. Their SCs mark each other as [RELATIVE], but they don't know this other animal in front of them, how could these two different animals could have come out of the same mother, they are not the same species, she's a bird, he's a fox, he has a marksman tag, she has a bruiser tag, they look nothing alike, they are nothing alike.

Cayman Global originally thought of this as an inconvenience that should be dealt with immediately, but latter settled on exploring the possible opportunities of letting their bond be known to each other, and more importantly, the opportunity to gain an insider with access to the locals. And they had a lot to know about each other, their customs, their way of doing things, their likes and dislikes.

This only led to more question appearing on his head, why was everything at Cayman so peaceful, why can he just solve problems with his sister so easily, while the locals have all of these problems, tribes not settling in on one thing, having to constantly ask for things, changing their minds, disagreeing, fights; maybe they had so much problems with the syndicates because of their ways, if they could understand each other, things could probably be solved quicker.

But the tribes didn't wanted that, and rightfully so, they did not wanted to surrender their freedom, their land and everything they own to a company to manage and do as it pleases with, it was theirs.

You can't teach an old dog new tricks, he and his sister were raised by the Syndicate, to them these ideas the locals speak of were nonsense, all of this chaos and problems that could be easily fixed, why wouldnt you want to fix it?

And that's when his SC, for the first time in forever, came up with its own idea, not something fed by the mainframe. Betray the tribes.

And betray the tribes they indeed do, Cayman agents agreed to the plan after a lot of favours being called and some heavy bargaining in the form of his sister's fists. An easy pick for the tribes, a Helibird crashed into the desert after a sandstorm, few survivours and a delayed rescue team due to the poor visibility, the perfect chance to pick up resources; but the only thing they picked up was a fight they couldn't win.

And so he triumphantly returned to his home, Cayman Global headquarters, but his new... Ideas... were not popular with all of his superiors, but those that agreed with him were not afraid of showing his support.

That's how he met Moon, someone that has been sitting near the top for way too long, and no longer thinks the head should be doing the thinking, and she was ready to make a play for it, playing with some strings here and there to have the siblings end up under her supervision, she could train and explore where these ideas of theirs really led to, what did they meant.

He gave a new name to his SC's voice, Lightning, and she liked it, it was nice to be her own thing, not just another chip, and in return, he let her take control over bits and pieces of his brain that none of the chips should have access to.

Little by little, Moon slowly revealled what the syndicates were up to, a second syndicate war was brooding up, and it was going to be way worse than the one they had in 2049, and she remembers that one pretty well, she was still an active agent back then. She allowed him to take a peek behind the curtain, how his memories were manipulated and changed in order to fit a narrative created by the syndicate, how his upbringing was all fake, how he was monitored and sought after like a guinea pig.

And he had absolutely no problem with any of that, his mind was so deeply consumed by the company's mindset that he couldn't even begin to understand how could any of those things were bad, he never questioned his position or his role in Cayman Global, instead he just wanted more, his last adventure made him hungry for things he should have never tasted, the company's propaganda kept him docile and happy, but also kept him compliant and safe, and he wanted none of the latter, having power is great, being in charge is amazing and telling other people what to do feels good; and Lightning agreed with it, why should she be a simple voice on his head, when she could control all the other voices on everyone's head.

That is where their real 'adventure' begins, not to destroy a corrupt syndicate, not to make the world a better place, not to make it fairer, is to put themselves on top, be the one that cuts the cake instead of being the one receiving a slice.

Thank you for coming to my OC rant

#oc #oc art #comission #rant post #fox #fursona #furry art #furry #furry oc #furry fandom #anthro #anthro art #syndicate

[onceuponapuffin]

Fanatic Intervention Part 17!!!

Okay, it's been a bit so quick recap: We just spent the evening at a dive bar singing karaoke and learning that 1) Jesus is a 13-year-old rich white kid with rich parents living in L.A. and 2) Muriel is missing. The Angel of Sardis gave us a lovely fishbowl (alcoholic drink since no one in this world has bothered to ask Reader's age because I have more room to play that way) as a reward for singing Taylor Swift (Shake it Off). We pick up our story The Morning After.

Also, since the poll about Sardis tied, I'm taking it to mean that everyone needs/wants more time with him to figure him out. Fortunately people also voted to bring him along, so we get to have LOTS OF THAT!! :D

Brandenburg Concerto No. 3 in G Major for anyone who's curious.

What music do you think Anathema likes??

Let's do this!!

Beginning || Previous || Next

**********************************

The next morning you sit at the table in the dining room of the massive Ritz hotel suite, staring into your coffee. You have a headache, and no one else seems to be faring too much better. If only it was just a hangover. A miracle from either Aziraphale or Crowley could fix a hangover, but there was no way that a miracle of any size could make your situation any less bleak.

Aziraphale, angel that he literally is, had thought to order in breakfast from the kitchens. You look from your coffee to the waiting plate of pancakes, eggs, and bacon, heaving a sigh. Jesus, if and when you find him, is an entitled teen. Muriel, friend and precious, is missing. Things are...well, it’s hard to feel happy or optimistic right now. Your companions aren’t faring much better as far as you can tell. Crowley is staring at his phone with a frown, the sound effects of Candy Crush drifting across the otherwise silent table. He’s playing at non-chalance, but you know Distraction As A Coping Mechanism when you see it. Aziraphale has barely touched his food, focusing more on alternating between stirring his tea, and sipping it only to add more sugar. The drink must be nearly syrup by now. Anathema keeps dangling her pendulum, pausing, then setting it down to re-cast her rune stones. You’ve noticed that they keep landing up the same way. Well, you need fuel in your system if you’re going to deal with all of this, so you reluctantly cut a slice of pancake with your fork and bring it to your mouth.

The silence stretches. Well, except for the ambiance; Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, pancake slice. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, pancake slice. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast, bacon – mixing it up a little. Candy Crush, spoon stir, runes cast

BAM!!!!

The door of the suite slams open, and there stands Sardis with his foot in the air.

He kicked the door down. What...on….earth…

“I FOUND HIM!” Sardis stomps into the suite toward the table, waving his phone in the air, “I FOUND HIM! I knew I’d seen his face somewhere, and I found him!!”

Crowley sits up straight for once in his life. “Who THE FUCK gave him a key?!”

You avert your gaze. The fishbowl was delicious, and he patted your head afterward and told you everything would be okay! Not your fault….entirely.

There isn’t much time for you to contemplate your guilt because Sardis has turned up the volume on his phone, and pressed play on a Tik Tok video. He turns his phone so that you all can see the screen. A boy with dirty-blonde hair is smiling out of it. His hair is longer in the middle and pouffed up with what is probably a standard-teenager’s worth of hair gel, and the sides are very short with...dollar signs shaved into them. It’s just a Tik Tok video, but you can smell the Axe body spray from here.

“Hey guys!” The smiling teen calls, waving at the camera. “It’s me, ya boy Jeremy. I’m bringing back my most popular series. That’s right! You asked, and I’m answering your prayers! Time to bring back Let’s See What I Can Get Away With Because I’m RICH.”

Your face twists in disgust, and you hear Anathema groan.

“I think we’ve seen quite enough,” Aziraphale says, speaking for you all.

“Are...are you sure that’s Jesus?” You ask. Honestly you’re hoping it’s a joke. You’re hoping beyond hope that this...this...caricature of a person is not the same person who you need to convince to help you save the world.

“Oh yeah,” Sardis replies, “That’s him. Right name and everything.”

“Wot? Jeremy?” asks Crowley with an edge of salty sarcasm.

“No,” Sardis says, “His true name. I know everyone’s, remember? It’s the right kid, you have my word on that.”

Truth be told, you’re still not exactly sure what his word is worth, but for now it’s a lead. You glance at Anathema, who shrugs.

“Fits the bill,” she admits, “All my readings have been...unsettlingly clear about the kind of kid we’re looking for, and I mean...” She gestures helplessly at the phone and the video that Sardis has, thankfully, paused. You blink, dumbstruck. Aziraphale said something last night about Heaven cutting corners. Apparently they had cut the corners so thoroughly they’d made a circle.

Great.

******************

Breakfast suddenly became easier after that. Maybe it was because Sardis was the only one who wasn’t completely despairing over everything, and maybe it was because he was suddenly helping himself to the plates of excess pancakes, bacon, and eggs. Suddenly, you noticed Aziraphale wave a finger and the food was hot again – trying to impress company, or be a good host, or both no doubt. You found that your appetite had suddenly returned, along with your need for caffeine. Even Crowley had grabbed some bacon now that, perhaps, there seemed a less likely chance of him having the choice if he waited any longer. Sardis did most of the talking, explaining that the shortest driving route would take 28 hours. Best to get started asap then.

“I am not listening to anymore of your….Us songs!” Crowley growls at you as soon as you get in the car.

“Not all of them are love songs!” You protest.

“No! No breakup songs either!”

“Fine, fair, but what about -”

“And especially no End-of-the-World songs!” He snarls. You’re pretty sure he’s halfway to hissing at you now. “We have enough of that to deal with assss is!” Ah, there it is.

Ever-so-gently, Aziraphale takes the phone out of your hand.

“Perhaps it’s about time someone else had a turn,” he says. Ah, so he’s finally gotten tired of humouring you and your taste in music. Well, it had to happen eventually.

Unfortunately, this means that you all end up listening to Brandenburg Concerto No 3 in G Major. Well, it could be worse, you figure. At least this song has movement to it, even if it does feel endless based on your musical standards. Crowley is driving and silent, Aziraphale is waving your phone around in the passenger’s seat like a conductor’s baton. The backseat is as follows – You, Sardis, and Anathema.

Yes, Sardis is there. Considering the way he found Jesus – or, Jeremy – so quickly, and the way he seems to be single-handedly keeping everyone’s morale afloat, it seemed a waste to leave him behind. Besides, both Crowley and Aziraphale had tried to make him leave, but he just….stayed. In the end, you pouted, they gave up, and now he’s sitting in the middle of the backseat, because you and Anathema have seniority.

Speaking of Anathema, you notice her very pointedly staring out the window. She looks...stiff. Maybe classical music isn’t her thing? Your suspicions are confirmed approximately nine minutes later when she practically jumps up from her seat and grabs the phone out of Aziraphale’s hand and presses stop. The music comes to a halt and silence fills the SUV. Aziraphale looks shocked and appalled.

“Anathema!” The angel exclaims after a moment. You can practically hear him clutching at his non-existent pearls. You can see him resisting the urge to clutch at his bowtie. “We weren’t even finished the Allegro!”

Anathema takes a deep breath. You’re able to count out a solid beat of ten before she speaks.

“I...am not...listening to classical concertos for 28 hours. I don’t care what key it’s in or how many allegros it’s got!”

Crowley snickers and snorts. “Concertos don’t work like that.” He says. You see Aziraphale gently pat the demon’s knee as if to say ‘that’s my man.’

“Well what would you rather?” Is what Aziraphale actually says, “More bebop?”

“Try me, and I’ll play death metal, I swear I will.”

“Um,” Sardis ventures cautiously, “Can I see that for a minute-- thank you.” He plucks the phone out of Anathema’s hand. After a minute or two of swiping, he taps the screen, and the car fills with songs from well-known musicals. Now, although this isn’t exactly to everyone’s taste, no one can find a good reason to outright hate it. No one can manage to find a good reason not to put up with it, and so by the time Music of the Night has melted into Seasons of Love, everyone has settled down and accepted that things aren’t actually all that bad.

“Impressive,” You mutter, basking in the semi-content vibe. Everyone is still a little on edge, but it feels less intense now.

Sardis smirks. “Six siblings,” he says to you with a small nudge.

“What happened to the others?” Anathema asks, tuning in to the conversation.

“Well,” Sardis sighs, “Of the seven of us - myself, Smyrna, Pergamum, Ephesus, Philadelphia, Thyatira, and Laodicea - Smyrna and Philly were the only ones who didn’t get hate mail. Smyrna was always super into the doctrine. She drank the kool-aid, as the humans here would say, and felt it her calling to ‘return home,’ as she put it. Bullshit, honestly. We weren’t born angels, we were made alongside the churches of Christ. ‘S one of the reasons why they don’t actually give a shit about us.”

“And why you worried that your miracles might get taken away,” You add, putting some of the pieces together. Sardis nods. “Wait, a minute,” You say, “You were made??”

Sardis laughs. “Alright Little Moth, you need to pick a lane here. Do you want to hear about my siblings or how I was born human?”

“You were BORN HUMAN?!” You are practically bouncing right now. What...how… “But you said that you can’t change your species!”

“I said your Miracle Enabler can’t change your species,” He replies with a twinkle in his eyes, “Not that it can’t be done. The seven of us were all born human. We made the first seven churches, so we were made guardians, lower angels. Like...lower than whatever the lowest type of angel you know of is. But we weren’t created as angels like your friends in the front seat.” Movement catches your peripheral vision, and you notice Crowley shifting a little in his seat. No doubt that’s a touchy subject that only Aziraphale is allowed to go anywhere near, but he says nothing. “So they all pretend we don’t exist, and look down on us whenever they need to deal with us. Sort of like we’re --”

“Oh, don’t worry,” You interject, “I read enough fantasy to understand the way magical societies view human-born magic users.” You can imagine that being An Angel of God would probably get old real fast if everyone who was supposed to welcome you actually hated you and made sure you knew it. Goodness knows it got to Aziraphale eventually, makes sense that a human-born angel (a huboan? You’ll work on it) would get sick of it a lot sooner.

“And that’s why I like you Little Moth,” Sardis says with a chuckle and a wink. “Anyway, so I know Smyrna went to Heaven. Philly stayed here. The two of us have always been really close, she stuck with me and we messaged and called and visited all the time until recently. I got some messages from her when the world went nuts during the first apocalypse, but I haven’t heard from her since. She stopped replying to my messages.”

Now it’s your turn to shift uncomfortably in your seat. Your eyes drop to your feet and start to fill with tears, so you change your view to the one outside your window.

“I can relate,” You say after a moment, holding back a sniffle and a sob. Deep breath. “Well, I’m glad you’re sticking with us.” You plaster a smile on your face and turn back to him. “Maybe we can find her.”

He smiles. “That’s what I’m hoping.” For a while, everyone is silent. After a few minutes, Anathema offers to put together a playlist with everyone’s favourite songs. The mood shifts considerably as the five of you spend the next few hours excitedly making musical suggestions.

It’s the best collection of music you’ve ever heard.

❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ 🖤

Beginning || Previous || Next

#good omens #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #aziracrow lasts forever #aziraphale x crowley #good omens fanart #good omens fandom #ineffable fandom #anathema #anathema device #sardis #the angel of sardis #good omens 3 #good omens season 3 #good omens fanfiction #anthony j crowley #good omens fanfic #good omens fic #good omens fanfic rec #shameless plug #fanatic intervention #part 17 #jesus #jeremy #it was the most rich-kid sounding name I could think of without googling and ending up with endless baby-having ads #algorithms #amirite

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Why do ZKs think Aang is a toddler?

Several reasons, plenty of them overlaping depending on the person:

1 - Aang is a goofy and happy, and some people that being miserable and serious is the only way to be mature, therefore Aang is a toddler and Zuko is an adult. God forbid you find joy despite life being a fucking nightmare sometimes.

2 - Aang is the protagonist and embodies the "this is a wacky adventure" side of the story, and for some goddamn reason a large portion of the Avatar fandom is REALLY salty that, despite being a good show that anyone of any age can watch, Avatar's target audience IS children, not Game of Thrones fans *side-eyes Netflix for good measure*, so they pretend he is "out of place in this bedtime story for Grown Ups that are Serious, Respectable Adults"

3 - Aang is not Zuko, therefore something MUST be problematic about his dynamic with Katara so Zutarians shippers have an excuse to go on a crusade against people for "shipping pedophilia" - even though they ship Katara with someone that was once supporting genocide against her people, therefore even if that were true they'd be massive hypocrites.

4 - For all their talk about being the "feminists of the fandom", plenty of Zutarians are VERY sexist, and sexism usually says the GUY is the one that is supposed to be older, not the GIRL (except in the "cougar" situations) mainly on the toxic versions of "Boys will be boys" and "Girls just mature faster." It's why you see guys in their 30s being total babies and teenage girls being expected to parent their siblings. So they see Katara, who had to step up as mom and became miserable because of it, and despite SAYING they get it was traumatizing for her, they don't think anything was wrong because "Women are moms before anything" so when they see her treating a kid that WASN'T adultified as her EQUAL not someone she has to parent, they FREAK THE FUCK OUT.

5 - Plenty of zutarians are very racist, and the idea that "ethinic" people mature faster is unfortunately a thing - only in this case they're not going for the "The boys are inherently violent criminals that will kill all the men and rape all the women, and the girls are all whores who are dying to fuck even if they don't even know what sex is." Instead they are going for the, and I cannot use enough quotation marks here, ''''''''''''''benevolent'''''''''''' assumption that Katara, as a non-white girl, is basically an adult despite being just 14. And if you're wondering why Aang doesn't get the same treatment, remember: a shockingly large portion of the fandom doesn't get that Aang is not white. (Zuko sometimes gets the same treatment, and some fans don't get that Katara and Sokka are Inuit, not black)

6 - Some of them are personally only into guys that are their age or older, which is fine, but they simply do not fucking get that their experience is not universal.

#anti zutara #pro kataang

[kharmii]

(Getting this one out of the way before we find out definitively whether or not Dabi is still alive. The last manga chapter #425 hinted about it, then went on hiatus)

(A long ago memory where young Touya Todoroki is eager to have his father Enji #2 Endeavor see what he can do)

Touya: No! Don't leave! I'm stuck to you!!

Enji: No way. I've got something to do...an association meeting.

Touya: I also thought of a strategy!!

Leave it to me to exterminate the villains.

Dad please watch!

Enji: Really.

Enji: Then while I'm gone you protect mother and Fuyumi.

*Walks away but says upon leaving* I left it to you.

Enji (to unknown person): Keep an eye on them.

(Person): Yes.

Touya: See you then! Well then!!!!

Touya: Who am I? Dad's hero!?!

Enji: ...... ......Ahh.

Touya: Yay!! Take care!

※Notice

From now on, this is a dream-like, fabricated, creative manga about Dabi's dreaming of interactions with his child while he lies on his death bed. A happy ending centered around the parent-child relationship between Touya and his parents.

What Dabi had done could no longer be reconciled, and he wondered if it would be possible to start over as a parent and child without being able to return to his original family, and what if Dabi were to be in the same position as his father... Also a wish....a dream.

Children also talk. The child in this story is a genetically engineered baby made from the Team Violet co-commander's hair (Dabi and Geten) that the doctor made for fun in a manga I drew earlier and adjusted the plot to look like Dabi would hate it (that's the setting/creation).

There is a conflict of interest with Geten. I feel like I have a lot of compassion for what he's been through. The second half is a conversation between Geten and the child, and the story changes from Geten to Dabi.

Dabi: ...Terrible, I don't feel it.

Geten: (Speaking to Dabi who is presumably burnt to ash...deceased or nearly so lying in a bed covered in a white sheet.)

What did you say? It's "cold".

Geten: That kid is excellent. Is it natural since both genetic contributors are first class?

Your concerns were unfounded.

In another ten years, it will be out of my control...

Geten: Come. Looks like he's going out. We'll meet again someday.

(He's talking about Dabi's fire going out, an analogy for his soul leaving his body).

Child: Can you see it?

(I can't see anymore)

Child: I can hear it?

(I can't hear it anymore)

Geten: -Because I'm the kind of guy who doesn't watch or listen.

No big deal.

Geten: (Bottom panels) The feeling of touching. A hand.

I can tell because it seems to be understood. -So as not to break.

(The child is touching Dabi's hand, and suddenly they are allowed to communicate).

(Same memory from earlier, except played out between Dabi and his child)

Touya: No! Don't leave! I'm stuck to you!!

Enji: No way.

Child: I also thought of a strategy!! Leave it to me to defeat the heroes.

Dad please watch!

Enji: Really.

(Dabi says something cryptic only the child can understand)

Geten: *laughs heartily*

Child: See you then! Well then! Flip side!?!?

Touya: Who am I? Dad's hero!?!

Dabi: I'm going to get sludge..... (the last thing he said was garbled)

Child: Ha~~~~~!?!? I don't know! I won't make your father's dreams come true!!!! -AND- Geten! Translate it!

Geten: Haha, that's probably correct.

Child: Take care!

That?

Touya: Mother! Will today be a hot day?

Rei Todoroki: Ah, it's summer.

Touya: Mom, is that the way you talk? Well, that's fine.

Rei Todoroki: What's wrong?

Touya: Hmm? If you stay in the sun all the time. It stings and I don't like it. Looks like it's okay today.

...There are suns like this too.

It's fluffy and tight... ...Somehow it's really...

(While the child reaches out to the sunlight, caption says "Nostalgic". Viewer realizes the scene with Touya speaking with his mother Rei was a dream Dabi was having as he was dying, as were all the other memories of his father and such.)

Geten: ...Finally. You idiot. It was great. Did you notice I can do it...See? Already. It's neither hot nor cold, right?

Dabi: ……Yeah.

(Reference to how Geten was able to provide comfort and make him comfortable as he was burning away.)

Warmth.

Geten: (Thinking) This is all I have left... (of Dabi's ashes)

Geten: (Out loud) I'm troubled. Apparently more than I expected. It seems like there was a feeling.

Geten: I miss your blue flames.

Child: Geten. Geten. What I've discovered....please watch.

*foom*

Child: Like ice, I could change the temperature of the flames. It would be cooler if you could take it out of your hands like father did. Geten?

(My guess is that the child's quirk resembles Geten's ability. He can't make fire/ice from his own body, but he can manipulate both elements and control their temperatures. Judging by Geten's questioning, if the child did have a fire quirk coming out his hands, he'd have to suppress it to avoid Dabi's fate, as he's a genetic chimera made up of a patchwork of both Dabi and Geten's clones).

Geten: White hair is increasing (like Touya's did when he got a little older). Isn't it hot?

Child: If it's really hot, it'll fly far away.

Geten: What about this? Is it hot?

Child: Not at all.

Geten: It's okay to be cold.

Geten: He and I too were moved by it. It was life.

Child: ...Geten.

Geten: You can call me 'Dad' too.

Child: You said you wouldn't allow anything other than Geten.

Captions: Rejoice Dabi. In the past. Ahead of us. Don't walk away.

Art credit: hrak (yaoi), Apocrypha, Dabi / Twitterログ12【外荼】 - pixiv

#dabi #geten #endeavor #dabiten #unamed child #coping with loss #butterfly #touya todoroki #the feelz #fire and ice #year of the dragon #rei todoroki

[deadlifts-and-deadlines]

Something cool about my neighborhood is that it is full of kids, roughly age 6-10. Ender, who is four, plays with a lot of those kids, mostly nicely, and the kids all usually gather in my in-laws yard to play, because it’s a huge kid paradise. They always gather when school gets out - so roughly when I’m needing to get dinner ready and things done at home, etc. However, it can be frustrating for me because I can’t always go there to supervise, so sometimes I have to just close the blinds and set Ender up with a movie or activity. It makes me feel like a shit mom and like I am actively keeping Ender from his friends. He is and always will be an only child, so I feel that it is important for him to have access to his cousins, who are our neighbors, and the other neighborhood kids. Especially since he’s been acting out lately bc of the puppy.

So - I’m thinking about buying a set of walkie talkies. I want to set the boundary to be my in-laws yard (it is huge) but also include my SIL’s yard (Ender is BFFs with her kids) and then sidewalk to the bike trail, since all the neighborhood kids like tor use the sidewalk and it’s next to the schools so people know to look for kids. I can mostly see all of these areas from my house, but I just feel like a way to contact/check in quickly with the kids would be good and no fucking way am I getting my four year old a phone.

Does anyone have any walkie talkie suggestions? And would you allow your four year old to play semi-unsupervised with cousins and neighborhood kids?

I don’t know if I would normally, but we literally live across the street from my in laws and my SIL’s are my neighbors so I feel like I have a lot of family eyes on him. Usually my in laws are home and in the house when the kids are playing in the yard, but I don’t want to put the sole responsibility to watch him on them every day, although I know that they love having such easy access to all the grandkids - which is why I’m considering the walkie talkie idea. Rules would be you don’t go past the range and if a parent or grandparent calls on the walkie talkie you must answer or you will need to come home. I think in a year it would be a non issue, just want to find a way to get him more kid time while I’m doing boring shit.

#I’ve met all these kids #and the parents of all these kids except one #and the one that I haven’t met I don’t like the kid but I also know she comes from a bad situation at home #so I think that’s why she acts out

[dudethatsmyundeaduncle]

Danny’s parents want to kill him and he’s like “f in the chat y’all dinner boutta be so awkward tonight smh”

Ok so I know everyone loves the angsty headcannons where Danny is terrified of his parents cuz they wanna kill him but we’ve had that hot take since 2005 I’m here for a source material revival, the much more entertaining “Danny’s parents want to kill him and he actively doesn’t give a fuck”

CUZ UH, IM REWATCHING THE FIRST SEASON AND I FORGOT HOW GENUINELY BLASÉ HE IS ABOUT MADDIE AND JACK TRYING TO GET HIS ASS ITS SO FUNNY.

Like mom holding a literal ghost gun to his head: eh kinda unphased he even has time to quip, his parents say they wanna tear em to pieces: meh see u guys at dinner, LIKE OUR GUY IS SO UNPHASED HE THINKS THIS SHIT IS FUNNY! (s1 ep. 14 public enemy)

And he’s unphased despite knowing his parents tech works and knowing that his mother is actually a good shot. So like I love angst Danny and y’all should keep up the good work but where is my s1 Danny ‘COULDN’T give less of a fuck about his parents’ Fenton representation?

Cuz think of this, for your DPXDC AU consideration, Danny would fit in so well with the bat gang if only because they could try to stab, shoot, capture, brainwash, and stalk him and he’d be like “oh cool villain of the week shit? Nice, what’re we having for lunch.” He. Wouldn’t. Flinch.

#I’m not saying y’all are writing Danny as pusillanimous #except that I am #give my son his groove back this kid is litterally more afraid of a box ghost then his parents #he’s not a scaredy cat and I feel like rn everyone writes him as one #save the wet cat treatment for Tim y’all let Danny be a funny lil guy again #like he grew up in doofenshmirtz lab he isn’t crying over death threats babes #THIS ISN’T A HOT TAKE SO DON’T TRY TO COME FOR ME #THIS IS ME READING FROM THE DP BIBLE VERBATIM #S1 PRIVELAGES REINSTATED #GET GHOSTED #anyway #like I said I’m rewatching s1 #and I forgot how freaking fun it was #not all modern DP is angsty mind you and I’m also not here to say it’s wrong or bad #I’m here to say let’s get that biodiversity back baby #Danny Phantom #dp x dc #a cold take just the coldest

[mrsrookhunt]

TO ADD TO THIS POST!!

Rook has two older siblings, and three younger, right? That conveniently goes along with the point system in Chess.

So we can actually guess which sibling is which.

Either King or Queen is the oldest (assuming King)

Rook

Knight

Bishop

Pawn

So anyways enjoy that knowledge.

@neige-leblanche you inspired part two to this. I knew about it earlier but I was keeping it short and sweet lol.

#rook hunt #twisted wonderland headcannon #twisted wonderland x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #epel felmier #vil schoenheit #disney #rook hunt headcanons #twst rook #i know ur secrets rook #bishop hunt goes so hard as a name oh my god #Queen Hunt too. godDAMN #actually all of them go pretty hard with the exception of Pawn Hunt #i just feel bad for poor Pawn #makes me wonder what their parents are named #or what motivated them to name their kids that #i saw one a long time ago that theorized the hunt family being spys and like #yeah?? that has some merit for sure #anyways the theory was that theyre code names. would be funny if rook's actual name was like #steve

[what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque]

Ok I know I'm heavily biased here but like I kinda love that Astarion's romance is one of the few in this type of video game where you basically end up canonically unmarried and childfree in his "good" ending? Just travelling the world??

Like it's honestly the millennial dream lmfaoo cannot believe i chose what would undoubtedly be my favorite option, first try

#also love that he's basically atheist like ok thanks you made the man exactly coded to be my type #and the humor and beautiful curly hair is very much something my IRL partner has too so like... how can i resist #anyways not sure a lot of people relate cause i think a lot of people want that fairytale romance #even tho wyll is right there yall #but i love me an unconventional or nontraditional one!! #i'm TIRED of being married with children as the endgame pls let's not do it #also a lot of people seem into him being a dad and im like... how? why? where in canon did he ever lmfao #more power to ya if you dig it but i just dont see it being in character #like in DAI i loved cullen and my inquisitor getting married and having a dog #and they seem the type to wants kids one day. but Tav & Astarion? lol no #i just think it's neat #is this a hot take? i have no idea but i don't see it mentioned a lot as a new fan tbh #pls do not come at me you can enjoy whatever you like #i haven't seen the ascended stuff so idk if being his 'consort' is like being his bride #but i feel like overall it's not and the vibe isn't all that different in this sense #except that you're hosting evil parties instead of travelling :/ #Astarion #bg3 spoilers #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 spoilers #bg3 #also YEA he's nice to Arabella but you can tolerate certain kids without wanting one or being 'good parent' material #case in point: me lmfao #OKAY update i saw the AA stuff and yeah you're kind of implied vamp married and he does mention spawn as children 😫 #but he also says in banter he won't make any other spawn??? so what is it dude #anyway that's also clearly the “bad” route and he doesn't seem as happy as unascended #who feels “truly free” #and if you're durge I'm pretty sure its even worse to consider having kids?? lol #but i digress