#i know this is never happening i just think about how we could hypothetically follow up on aa4 a lot. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

missmeinyourbones · 2 years

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haikyuu boys as icks

because my favorite thing is humbling men and fictional men are no exception | aot version & jjk version

atsumu:

does that thing where he "forgets to know your name" so he doesn't look obsessed with you, but in reality he just looks like a douchebag LOL he's comes up to you all nonchalant like "y/n, right?" as if he doesn't follow you on ig and like all of ur pics....and he thinks it makes him look so cool and popular and mysterious and then u look him dead in the eye and ur like "yeah, you're osamu, right?" he's humbled very quickly

osamu:

when he’s really tired or clingy, he talks in a baby voice :/ sometimes even refers to himself in the third person :/ just typing this rn is making me frown with disappointment. like yeah atsumu may be the more dramatic twin, but thats only bc he’s shameless in public. behind closed doors, osamu is right there w/ him. you find him pouting on the couch after a long day like “osamu wants cuddles >:(” or “can we make dinner together i’m hungwy >:(” big offender of the “sowwy” and “pwease” agenda. arrest him

suna:

is the embodiment of that one trend where you tell guys they look like they can’t swim and they get so unnecessarily defensive about it LOL. you say he “gives off a vibe that he can’t swim that well” and hes DISTRAUGHT...immediately whipping out all of his cards to prove you wrong like “obviously i can swim, wtf let’s go find a public pool rn and i’ll show you how good i can swim” also gets you back in such a ruthless way like “okay, but i can. and you look like you don’t know how to read.” feelings end up hurt on both ends :/

hinata:

whenever you guys go to the store, he holds up the line because he’s like “oh, i have a coupon for that!!! :)” but it's never convenient at all. it could be for the most minuscule or absurd products too, like toilet paper or ballpoint pens, and he’s digging through his wallet once you guys reach the register. like baby AREN’T YOU A PRO ATHLETE???? i think you can afford the extra $1.42 for granola bars. you bring up the idea of him having the coupon ready before he gets in line and he’s like “idk i don't wanna hold it for that long 🥱”

kageyama:

LEAVES HIS BEARD HAIR IN THE SINK AFTER SHAVING. oh my god, i am making myself angry rn. you rinse it out every single time and when you ask him if he knows what happens to all of his little trimmings, he’s just like “idk....i guess they just evaporate or slide down over time” when you literally clean up after him like a maid :I he makes me sick (inspired by that one tiktok of the oblivious husband and knowing wife)

bokuto:

doesnt understand politics so he just labels himself as “non-political” which comes across as him just being douchey :/ it makes him look so ignorant when he first tells you :/ like a man who thinks he’s too good to be socially and politically aware bc it doesn't affect him / when in reality, politics just really isn't his forte academically and he’s never learned the basics of it :/ because he is really smart ok i stand by this!!!! he’s a scholar and a college grad...he just only focuses on his areas of interest. take a gov course baby expand ur horizons

akaashi:

if you ask him those silly hypothetical relationship questions (the ones where you just want him to say something sweet, something that proves he loves you) he is not having it in the slightest. you ask him “would you still love me if i was a worm?” and he’s deadly serious like “no? one, that's not even possible. two, if i’m ever attracted to a worm then i need to be constrained and arrested. three, i think that’s really wrong for you to expect me to seamlessly deal with that big of a transition in our relationship--” and you have to be like OH MY GODDD OKAYYYYY IT WAS A TEST!!! AND YOU FAILED!!!

kuroo:

millennial core LOLLLLLLL im sorry. he posts a pic of him after he gets his hair cut and captions it “just did a thing! :P” EWWWW my toes are curling rn. he takes his selfies from the highest mom facebook angle and does the signature middle aged white man smirk. if he ever films a video of himself it’s so cringy bc he does the millennial zoom in and talks as if he’s a movie protagonist. attends a single work meeting and claims he’s “adulting 😂” at the ripe age of 27

oikawa:

when he really likes you, he does that thing where he's like "you're just not like other girls/people!!!! you're so different!!!!!!" you do basic human things like don't constantly wear makeup or eat whatever you please and he's like "i love how you can be so real around me, you're so quirky <3" you shave your legs or do your hair and he’s like “baby you don’t have to do all of this for me!!!!” he’s never touched a woman in his life. self unaware king

iwaizumi:

swears that period cramps are not that bad and that people who get periods over-exaggerate to make men (or people who don’t get periods in general) feel guilty about not dealing with them. believes with his entire chest that “getting kicked in the balls” is equivalent to the pain of childbirth. one day you jokingly buy one of those period cramp simulator machines and hook him up to it. he's all “i’m gonna be fine babe” and “it probably just feels like a stomach ache”.... he doesnt get past the 3rd setting and is holding back tears when you finally turn it off

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dotster001 · 1 year

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Leviathan, the Accidental Yandere

Summary:Levi x gn!reader. Levi forgets there are differences between humans and demons when he attempts to court you.

CW:Levi seems like a Yan! But it's just a misunderstanding. Read at your own risk.

A/N: I love me a good spooky Yan fic, but I was thinking about the funny side of some of them, where it might just be a cultural thing. Also, my tag list is still packed, so hopefully you guys see this.

"Question?" Levi said, looking a little flustered.

Satan looked up from his book, and Asmo looked up from doing Belphie's nails.

"Yeah?" Asmo asked.

"Um.. so you three know humans the best, so how long is it supposed to take before they stop screaming when you begin courting them?" He startled a moment, before adding, "Hypothetically, of course."

Satan and Asmo shared a confused look, but Belphie seemed to understand exactly. He groaned, and slouched back in his chair.

"Levi, if we go in your room, right now, are we going to find Y/N in a cage, or chained to something?"

"Yes."

"Father give me strength," Belphie groaned. "You know humans are a completely different species right? Which means they have different courtship rituals? Please tell me you read one of the millions of books by succubi and incubi who researched how to mix the courting rituals, right?"

Levi's face turned a shade of bright pink.

"I, uh, didn't think about it…"

"Levi!" Asmo exclaimed.

"So, I did bad?"

"Just a little," Satan said with a laugh. "Or a lot."

"Humans only have free will and freedom going for them. So chaining them down is seen as an act of aggression,"Belphie groaned tiredly.

"Wow, if you had read a book about how to care for and keep humans as pets, it would have gone better. Even if those books are outdated," Satan laughed even harder.

"It's not funny," Levi pouted.

"It's a little funny," Asmo said with a giggle.

"Well, we better let Y/N out, and explain what happened," Satan said, the trio standing up, and following Levi to his room.

When Satan opened the door, he was immediately greeted by a Ruri Chan body pillow being thrown at his head.

"Y/N! Please don't hit me, I just did my hair!" Asmo cried.

"Fuck, shit, I thought you were…Levi!" You saw Levi standing behind the trio, and made to grab something else to throw.

"Let me the fuck out!"

"Y/N, it's okay! We're here to unlock you, but we need to tell you something first, then Levi is gonna apologize," Asmo said.

"I don't want to hear it."

"Trust me, you do," Satan smirked.

You sat down with a huff, the chain around your ankle jingling angrily.

Belphie sat down next to you, before laying his head on your lap.

"So I know it's easy to forget, cause we're so loveable, but we are two different species. And demonic courtship rituals are a little different. For example, it is common for a higher caliber demon to lock up their potential lower level mate, and then to bring presents and spoils of their hunts to prove that they can protect them."

"The fuck-"

"Levi being one of the 10 most powerful demons in the Devildom, is always going to be the one who is supposed to prove himself. So, he put the chain on your ankle, and was going to bring you gifts and food to prove himself a worthy mate of defending you."

He paused to let you take in the information. Your face went through a roller coaster of emotions, before you simply said,

"Huh."

"Now, if Levi was smarter, he would have researched humans before hand, and would have informed you about demonic culture, and maybe you could have come to a middle ground, where both of your cultures were respected, but also you felt safe," Satan said pointedly.

"Huh."

Asmo nudged Levi.

"I, um, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you or make you think I was gonna hurt you," Levi's eyes started tearing up, "I'd never hurt my Henry, I'm so sorry, I bet you just hate me now."

Levi threw the key to the chain at your feet, then started sobbing into Satan's shoulder.

You groaned before unlocking the chain and wrapping your arms around him.

"I don't hate you Levi. And we can definitely talk about ways to make us both comfortable, but, dear God, please make sure I know thoroughly about something demonic before throwing me to the wolves next time? I thought you were gonna kill me or something."

"You don't hate me?" He sniffled, and looked at you, his violet eyes filling with hope.

"No Levi, I literally told you yesterday how much I love you! You just shook me up a little bit!" You nuzzled your nose against his.

"Okay, I'll get rid of the chains, the cage, and the handcuffs…"

Satan quickly covered Asmo's mouth.

"...And we'll talk about how you'd be comfortable."

"Literally, Levi, how about we just watch a movie? That sounds really nice right now," you hummed.

"Okay, Henry, that sounds amazing," he said with a smile.

You both left the room holding hands, and Satan uncovered Asmo's mouth.

"Keep the handcuffs!" He blurted.

"Aw, Asmo," Belphie purred, "they're already gone."

Satan and Belphie laughed, and Asmo pouted.

#obey me brothers #obey me x reader #leviathan x reader #om! levi #om! leviathan #levi x reader #om! asmo #asmodeus #obey me satan #om! satan

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liketwoswansinbalance · 4 months

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The Stymphs' Symbolism and the Storian's Interference

All right, here's our equivalence:

The Stymphs = Fate

Ok, so, with the girls in book one:

Agatha and Sophie are carried off by a Stymph, and they are thrown into their respective schools. No choice. No say in the matter. They've lost their agency, completely.

They are mastered by a Stymph, by fate. Conquered.

Then, the shift happens. They become the masters of their own fate, in riding the Stymph, in steering on top of the Stymph, into the School Master's Tower.

By TLEA, again, their relationship to the Stymphs changes. They're a little beholden to them and fate, in becoming who they are. Fate and the particular Stymph's original actions, its involvement in their kidnapping, I mean, shaped them both, ultimately. The girls are also beholden to the Stymphs for helping them, by not obeying "Rafal" when they help the archer students and Merlin during the second Great War.

⸻

Then, for the prequels:

Who is master of the Stymphs? Rafal, of course.

Yet, Rhian is the "author of own misfortune," or fate.

Rafal is the original master of the Stymphs. In a way, Rafal was destined to become Fate, to become the Balance, had he managed to live long enough to be the One.

Because, he was about to be named the One True School Master, and through the Schools, he would have been master of the Woods' fate, been able to willfully control (or indirectly influence, through the curriculum, the students' educations, and how prepared they would have been, should their fairy tales begin) the fate of all the Woods, all its possible futurities, in theory, to an extent.

But, really, it's the Pen that is Fate, not Rafal himself, when it really comes down to the truth.

However, Rhian disrupted "fate," or the Storian's plans, by being the cause of his brother's death.

And, when he was left with the Stymphs he "inherited," he probably couldn't quite automatically rein them in. I think he had to tame them, or find a literal spell to mollify them with, to get them under his control. Probably symbolically because he was never meant to be Fate or the One in the first place.

And so, of course, Fate's attendants (the Stymphs) wouldn't have followed him willingly, at least, not right away because the ending simply wasn't meant to be, but just so happened to happen nonetheless. (I know the Stymphs' behavior actually must originate from the fact that Stymphs supposedly only like Evers, but I'm looking at this from an angle that's outside of the narrative, and I don't need to rely on the in-universe reasoning at the moment.)

Was there a line after the climax of Fall about this at all? About the Stymphs being disobedient toward Rhian or outright loud and unmanageable, or am I misremembering?

Anyway, Rhian became master of Fate, of the Woods, in becoming the sole School Master. But that only happened when there was no one else left to assume the role. He was the only option, sort of a second-choice. Or, possibly even third, when we consider Pan as the hypothetical third candidate to be the One. Rhian was the default, sadly enough, the lone, surviving one. He wasn't even meant to be School Master, the rightful One, yet he had to be chosen. The Storian was compelled to because there was no one else.

Thus, the "ownership" of the Stymphs and of Fate was transferred over to Rhian.

And remember, once, Rhian was Fate's personal punching bag. He suffered a lot, for his naivete, and from some external causes, like Hook and Vulcan, sort of, even if he was wrongly influenced by the end of it all. And yes, while many events were partly his fault, they also may not have been. The plot could have been the result of very poor happenstance and intersections of the times the brothers lived in, as, we can observe all the turbulence in Rise, during that one particular school year.

⸻

Oh! And I wonder if the Stymphs forevermore missed Rafal, their original master? Did they show any signs of missing him? I'm not sure.

But, I am sure that they knew Rhian replaced Rafal because they can read souls, tell them apart, they way they seemed to instinctually read Agatha's, Sophie's, and Aladdin's souls, to know which Schools they belonged to.

I don't think there's any direct evidence of the Stymphs' mourning though. Did they ever screech, or cry out, as if in pain, like deprived animals? I suppose I could imagine that plausibly happening, with how they were left behind...

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void-ink-studios · 6 months

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Myth of the Wishmasters - Part 2

Alright, here we go Part 2 babyyyyyyy!

And thus, we've reached the ending of Wrath of the Wishmaster, at least for now. 50,000 words, 164 pages, and 20 chapters. Damn.

I hope this is an ending y'all can be pleased with. Your kind words, comments, and reblogs have honestly meant the world to me,

Thanks for getting me to accidentally participating in NaNoWriMo, ya hecks.

If you started following me for this fic, I hope you stick around. I do some other pretty neat stuff, writing included.

So, without further ado, here we go. Enjoy, y'all.

*psssst*

Hey!

There's also art under the cut!

Word Count: 3,300

Scarab carefully watched Prismo's face flip through... several colorful emotions.

Confusion, shock, befuddlement, all within a beat of very loud silence.

"...Wh-What...?"

Scarab tried to stand up a little straighter. He could do this. He had to do this.

"I asked... What would you wish for?"

"...Like, hypothetically?"

Scarab huffed, gracefully resisting the urge to facepalm. Glob, his love was a bit dense sometimes, wasn't he? "Prismo... I want to grant you a wish."

That just seemed to further baffle the Wishmaster, looking at Scarab like he'd grown a second head.

"But... what? Scarab, you know you can't grant my wish, right?"

Now it was Scarab's turn to look confused. He tilted his head at Prismo. "And why not?"

"Well... Wishmasters don't get wishes? Like, I can't just grant my own wish, I thought that was kind of obvious."

Scarab chirped, considering. "Well, sure, you cannot grant your own wishes. But... well, I'm not you, am I? There has never been two Wishmasters before."

Prismo blinked dumbly at him, like Scarab might as well be talking gibberish.

"Scrabby, Lovebug, I get what you're trying to do but... I don't think that's how this works...? I don't get to... y'know want things? I grant wishes for others!"

He laughed nervously, looking at almost anything in the Time Room other than Scarab. Until the beetle took his hand into his talons, giving his hand a tender squeeze.

"Prismo... You know you're allowed to want things, yes? I though you were finally... realizing that." Scarab gestured around the Time Room.

Prismo made an uncomfortable noise, looking at the floor.

"Not really...? Well, I mean, it's different. It's... It's one thing to, like, decorate the Time Room. It's simple. It doesn't... I dunno, rewrite reality. Me wishing for something could... could...."

"Could what?"

"I don't know Scarab! Break the multiverse?!"

"Prismo. You exist outside of time. Outside of most of reality itself. It's true, we don't know what might happen if you wish for something... But..."

Scarab made his way up Prismo's arm, onto his shoulder, to nuzzle his face sweetly.

"...You have done... so much for me, Prismo. You've done everything. My life, my eternity, is infinitely better with you in it. So... I'd be honored to do this for you. Let me have the honor of being the one to grant you your wish."

Prismo sputtered for a second, Scarab could see his brain stalling for a moment.

"I-I dunno, Scarab... It could just... not work. I wouldn't want your first granted wish to be a dud. And... what if this wish... takes us away from each other...?"

"If it does, then..." Scarab hesitated. "Then... I'm am thankful for being at least a part of your eternity. I would be happy, knowing I gave you something no one else could."

Prismo sniffled, shaking his head. He let his head fall into Scarab's side as he thought.

"...I..."

Prismo started and stopped a few times, trying to find the words. Scarab lets his talons run through the Wishmaster's curly hair.

"...Can I... think about it?"

"Of course, love. Take all the time you need."

Prismo gave his side a kiss, Scarab relishing in the close contact. He knew his Wishmaster had... quite a bit to think about. And that was okay.

It was a big shift for Prismo, him wanting things.

The two returned to a comfortable routine, thankfully in an unusual doldrum of Wish Makers. Prismo spent a lot of time staring at a blank lap top screen, thinking quite loudly.

Scarab made no attempt to ask again. He knew Prismo. He'd come forward when he was ready. If he was ever ready.

"...Scarab...?"

Prismo broke the silence one day, hesitant and unsure.

"Yes love?"

"...I think... I think there's one thing I could wish for..."

"Oh?"

Scarab put the book he was reading down, giving the Wishmaster his full attention.

"It's just... I like my life. A lot. I don't want what pretty much everyone who comes here would wish you. More responsibility would give me headache. I don't want money or wealth. I have you, and the life we built here, and that's perfect for me. But..."

"But...?"

"I've just been thinking... What happens when your... tenure here is over? We don't know when or if the Organizer might pull you back as an Auditor, and... well... I... I don't think I could stand it if I couldn't... If I couldn't be with you. But, I'm here, on the wall, except for extremely specific circumstances. It's never... bothered me before. But... Well, I wouldn't be able to hug you. Or kiss you. Or even just touch you."

Scarab listened, intensely.

He'd admit it, he didn't consider what would happen if he was ever called back. If he was ever made Auditor again, even if it was only part of the time, what would happen to his contact with Prismo...?

"So... I think I've got my wish, Scarab."

Scarab nodded, standing up, ready to listen. "Go ahead, love."

Prismo closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, steadying himself. Scarab could only imagine how strange it must've been to be on this side of the transaction for the Wishmaster.

Prismo mouthed something to himself, possibly double checking his wording. Now or never.

"I wish... I wish for those who hold the title of Wishmaster, as granted by the Dreamer... to have the ability to choose the form they take while in the Time Room."

Scarab felt the magic wash over him. It felt like it his body was emptied and refilled with something wild, chaotic. His thoughts raced, trying to fill in the gaps, just like how Prismo said. He looked at his partner, bracing himself, taking a breath.

"...Wish granted."

At first, nothing happened. A few beats passed, and nothing happened.

At least the multiverse didn't instantly delete itself!

Prismo blinked, looking at his hands, hesitant.

And then he reached forward.

The two sat in stunned silence as... a hand emerged from the wall.

Neither breathed for a long moment.

Prismo experimentally flexed... his hand. That was his hand. The fingers twitched as he turned it in all directions. It looked almost like it was made of gas, something fluid and constantly moving. It shimmered a deep, rosy pink, flecks of sparkling stars scattered across the knuckles.

The Wishmaster pushed further. A hand, then an arm, then a shoulder. A gradient from rose to his signature light pin, the flecks of stars traveling up the arm like freckles.

"S-Scarab...?"

"It's okay, love. Come on out."

Prismo took a deep breath, closing his eyes tight before stepping out.

Scarab felt his breath hitch. Oh dear Glob... Prismo was beautiful. So, so beautiful. His skin swirled and shimmered like a pool of water, looking far more ethereal than the beetle was expecting. Sitting in his chest was a glowing star, it's gravity holding the body together. Two shooting stars orbited around his chest, one a bright gold, the other a deep blackish-purple.

He was still mostly human shaped but... there was still something surreal about him. Alien. Otherworldly.

Prismo shook his head, seemingly getting used to the sensations of his own body.

"S... Scarab...?"

"Oh, my love... How do you manage to look more gorgeous every form you take?"

Prismo gave him a shaky smile, standing on shaky, uncertain legs. He looked at himself, really looked at himself, in wonder.

And then let out an undignified squeak at the realization that he was nude. He dove into the blanket pile, emerging with a pout as Scarab had himself a hearty laugh.

"Oh ha-ha, yeah, laugh it up." The pout wasn't serious, Prismo seemed far too enthralled with the prospect of his new dimension.

"Scarab! Scarab, come join me!"

"Me?"

"Yeah! I did say "anyone with the title of Wishmaster" didn't I? That's you too!"

Scarab seemed to only just register that that now applied to him. He made an excited chittering sound, hesitantly emerging from the wall. He felt odd, like he was on the verge of floating away, yet distinctly there. He was the same pale blue as his projection, but otherwise resembled his physical body pretty closely, just with the same swirling cloud appearance to his shell.

Scarab eagerly dove in to join the blanket pile, holding Prismo close, nuzzling and kissing him sweetly, lovingly.

"This is wild, man... Like... I'm sitting. Sitting in the Time Room."

"Right... quick point about that..."

Prismo cocked his head as Scarab climbed up to the entrance to the Time Roon and tried to stick his arm out. The gas that seemed to compose their bodies dissipated and faded up until his elbow.

"These forms extend only within the confines of the Time Room."

Prismo thought for a moment, but nodded. That was fine. He could requisition a body if he ever needed to leave the Time Room.

"Lovebug. Thank you... Thank you so much."

Scarab smiled, quick to rejoin his beautiful Wishmaster.

The two fell into a new routine soon after. Prismo found out pretty quickly he could dive in and out of the wall as he wished, change sizes, and float around the Time Room. He took a delightful amount of glee in dressing himself, finding himself a collection of loose robes, ones that hung off his shoulders lazily. Scarab was honestly a little surprised at the how conservative Prismo decided to approach jewelry. Unlike his usual routine of making himself sparkle like a treasure chest, he opted instead for simple earrings, a necklace, and arm bands.

He looked like something truly divine. Something awe inspiring.

And Scarab, of course, took to making some new additions to the Time Room. Specifically, a designated seating area, a luxurious spread of couches with pillows and blankets.

And boy were the looks they got from Cos and Death something else.

The Organizer seemed to pause for the first time in the eons Scarab knew her.

"...Hey Scarab?"

The beetle chirped, cracking an eye open to look at the Wishmaster. They were piled onto the couch, Scarab lounging on Prismo's chest, content.

"Yes, love?"

Prismo adjusted the hold he had on Scarab, nuzzling his neck. "I was wondering something."

"That's often worrying."

"Hey" Prismo scolded, unserious.

"Fine, fine. Carry on."

"...What would you wish for?"

Scarab froze for a second, thinking. It's not like he hadn't thought about it before. He's thought about it for centuries. Obsessed over it, even.

But that was before he would ever go to Prismo for help.

And... when he did finally understand that Prismo was someone he could trust... he shoved that wish down into his gut. He would never want Prismo to think he only got close for a wish...

"...I've thought about it before..."

"Really? How come you never made a wish then?"

Scarab made an uncomfortable chirping sound. He head swirled. He... he felt pathetic for feeling this way, but... he didn't feel he deserved it.

Not after this long...

"...It's... complicated."

Prismo hummed, rubbing Scarab's back softly. "...Would you want to make a wish?"

"...I don't know. I..."

Scarab sat up, sighing softly. Prismo followed him up, cupping his cheek reassuringly.

"...For... for the longest time, I had... convinced myself I didn't deserve it..."

"...Deserve what, Lovebug?"

Scarab nuzzled into Prismo's hand as he sighed.

"...My wings and antenna."

Prismo nodded in solum understanding.

"I... I spent so long convincing myself that I deserved what happened to me. That... I broke the rules, so it was the natural and deserved outcome. I used... so much reasoning to try and make it stick. That... that it was better that that had happened, since no one liked bugs. So, the less I looked like a bug, the better... I told myself if I couldn't remember the homeland, who was I to demand my heritage back. I told myself it made me stronger..."

Scarab blinked a few times, willing away the tears.

"But... Glob, Prismo, you've been tearing it all down. You made me realize how... terrible what happened to me was. You like my... less conventional features. You made me remember my home more in the past year than in the last hundred thousand. But..."

"But?"

"But... I don't want to... erase what happened. As much as I hate it, it shaped me into the person I am now. And that's the person who loves you, who has this life. If I knew this was waiting for me at the end, I'd do it all over again."

Prismo nodded, pulling Scarab into a soft hug. "...Regardless of the decision you make... If you want to make a wish, I would be honored to grant it for you."

Prismo kissed his neck, making Scarab chirp happily. He purred for a long time, taking the moment to think. To process.

"Prismo."

Scarab sat up, looking the Wishmaster in the eye.

"I wish... without altering my history, and without depriving anyone else of their body or body parts... to restore my wings and antenna in a way I can control, dismiss, and alter."

Prismo seemed to take a moment to think. Then he smiled.

"Wish granted."

Scarab felt his back tingle. His head itch. The torn ends of his wings felt... ticklish almost. The beetle took a moment to examine the feeling, taking a few steps back from Prismo to kneel.

"Go for it, Scarab. You can do it."

Scarab still hesitated. He'd never felt more scared to open his elytra, not ever since his wings were taken from him.

"You deserve it, Lovebug."

Scarab took a deep breath and let his shell open.

He felt something whoosh across his back. He kept his eyes frozen to the ground. There was something... strange on his back, a strange... heavy weightlessness? He didn't even know if that made sense, but that was the best way the could describe it.

"Lovebug... Look."

Prismo sounded in awe. That probably a good sign, yes?

He turned his head, slowly.

And he felt breathless.

He could see where his real wings ended and these new ones began. They were detached almost, floating an inch or two off the tattered ends. He gave them an experimental flap, chittering in delight as the motion flowed nearly seamlessly.

They looked gorgeous. They weren't his wings, but that was okay with him. They reminded him a bit of the false wings he made for the Gala, with the hand and eye patterns, now with the addition of star motifs.

He took a moment to experiment. He could summon and dismiss them. His fingers could trace the edges, but phase through the membranes.

He took a long look at Prismo before bursting into happy sobs. The Wishmaster was quick to scoop him up and hold him close, running a gentle hand between the base of his wings.

"P-Prismo..."

"I know Lovebug. I know. They're so gorgeous. You're so gorgeous. I'm... sorry they're not attached, or that they don't look like yours but... I dunno, think of them like prosthetics."

"They're perfect, Prismo. You're perfect. Wait, hold on, I need to try something..."

Scarab followed the tingling itch on his head, feeling a ghostly pair of antenna uncurling over his head. Again, they didn't quite feel right, that same heavy weightlessness, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the smack in the face the smells of the Time Room hit him with. The perfume of the flowers, the vinegar of pickle brine, and...

Oh.

That was Prismo's smell. Scarab dove his face right into Prismo's cheek, nuzzling, antenna finally able to card through his hair and touch his skin. And he could smell him, he could smell Prismo, a combination of spice and ozone, and he could smell himself all over the Wishmaster's skin.

There was something intoxicating about that, something that made Scarab not pick his head up again for quite a while. Prismo held him all the way through it, humming and rubbing.

"Prismo...?"

"Yeah, Lovebug?"

"...Thank you. For everything."

Prismo hugged him tightly.

"You can thank me" he started, kissing his neck and jaw sweetly, "by being mine. For the next eternity."

Scarab's face flushed blue, but he nodded eagerly.

"Yes. Yes, I am yours. You are mine. For the next eternity, my love."

Prismo nodded back. "For the next eternity."

-------------------------

They speak in legends, in tomes, in myths, of the Wishmasters.

At the beginning of it all, in the Age After Nothing, there emerged the one called the Wishmaster.

In the center of everything, in the center of nothing, there is the Time Room, domain of the Wishmasters.

In a place at the center of time, in a place where time cannot touch, there is the one called the Wishmaster.

It is a god of no equal. It is a god of many names, in many forms. But it is always the one called the Wishmaster.

And in this era, the one called Wishmaster is of two beings.

How one meets the Wishmasters may very. It takes something powerful, something capable of building a bridge into the void. But all require a piece of the Eternal Dream, for it is the Dream that is the threads of the Void. Objects with fragments of the Dream are the most reliable vector to crossing into the Void.

It is two beings one might be greeted with.

The Living Dream known as Prismo, and his protector The Star Auditor known as Scarab.

Prismo is always there. He is aloof, but a comfortable being. He is a creature of comfort, lounging in a self made sanctuary of pillows and blankets, surrounded by perfumes of the Dream Lilies hanging from above. Leaving him gifts of crystals and jewelry may earn you his favor, although even then, that is not given liberally.

The Time Room is his Domain. He can freely move between and from the walls, for the walls are at his command.

Scarab is a feature only on occasion. One should rejoice if they commune with the two Great Wishmasters. He is orderly, precise. One might think this sparks conflict between the two, but instead it brings harmony. He is a god of intimidating disposition, but reasonable if approached without fear. He is even less liberal with favor than the Almighty Prismo, but offerings of fruits and rare teas may give you a chance.

The Scarab and Prismo are protective of each other. When approaching, do not offend either. Do not disparage the other. They are a pair, equal in all things.

The Almighty Prismo and Scarab, the ones called Wishmasters, offer the same bargain to any who find his domain, his domain of the Time Room.

One wish, anything your heart desires, you may ask of him. And he will make it so.

But do beware, wish makers.

Realities may warp or split or merge, people and objects may shuffle through time and space, memories, lifetimes, erased or rewritten forever. But they will make it so.

For the Almighty Prismo is not cruel, he is a tricky one. For the Almighty Scarab is not deceptive, he is percise.

Any wish lacking detail, they will fill the gaps. And lapse in thinking, and forgotten factor, and unforeseen consequence, they shall consider. To those they favor, they may advise. To those they don't?

Well, you will receive what you wish for.

Whether or not you can live with that is not a trouble for the Almighty Prismo and Scarab.

They are the crossroads, the boundary, the space between it all.

If one is lucky, they might hear the song of the Wishmasters. One might bare witness to the great wings of the Almighty Scarab, as they two circle each other in a cosmic dance. Do not disturb them if you find this majesty. Consider yourself blessed, and listen to the strange song of the divine.

For this is the nature of the Wishmasters.

Mismatched, yet incomplete without each other.

Together for eternity.

Thus is the myth of the Wishmasters.

#prohibitedwish #scarab x prismo #scarab the god auditor #prismo the wishmaster #prohibitedwish fanfic #Wrath of the Wishmaster #my art #digital art #prohibitedwish fanart

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fortheloveofwonderland · 1 year

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Another one? Yes, another one!!!!

I wish that we could save today, but I know we can’t stay the same. And I keep pushing you away, don’t wait for me - Home is Such a Lonely Place by Blink 182

With Spencer! Thanks and congrats again!!!!

Hello again! This one was cute, set post s15.

Home is Such a Lonely Place

Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader

Summary - you and Spencer’s whirlwind romance comes to an abrupt end when you both get job offers in different countries. But home is just too lonely for him to bear without you.

CW - angst, break ups, tears, sad goodbyes, meet cutes.

WC - 2.2k

As far as days went, today was just about perfect in Spencer Reid’s world. Before long it would become some distant memory, forgotten seconds by your side.

It would become just another day in the story book of his life but he tried to catalogue every single inconsequential touch, every sidelong glance. He had to preserve these moments because after tomorrow there would be no more moments to have.

Spencer had loved you since the moment he laid eyes on you eight months ago in line for coffee at his favourite cafe. You’d both reached for the same sugar packet but when you’d smiled at him, the simple gesture was sweet enough and he’d allowed you to take it.

What had followed had been a whirlwind romance.

Spencer had left the BAU a few months prior to meeting you to teach full time, which gave him evenings and weekends free to spend with you. And the two of you did spend every possible second together. More seconds he hoped wouldn’t become forgotten.

You’d fallen head over heels for each other. You never officially moved in with him, you still had your own apartment, but you honestly couldn’t remember the last time you’d been back there.

It had been the most incredible tornado of emotions, the likes of which neither of you had ever experienced before. He’d told you early on he had every intention of marrying you one day, and you couldn’t think of anything you wanted to do more in the world.

But fate had other ideas.

In the space of just one week, two things happened that altered the trajectory of your relationship. Firstly you got offered a job of a lifetime, one in which you’d worked your whole life towards.

You’d screamed and jumped up and down, throwing yourself giddily into Spencer’s arms the second you hung up the phone but the euphoria was tragically short lived.

Your dream job, the one you’d worked so hard for, was in London.

Spencer hadn’t skipped a beat before telling you he’d come with you. He loved you and wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, he wasn’t letting you go.

You’d started to cry when he cupped your face and smiled at you as he whispered, “let’s move to London, my love.”

For three days the two of you had excitedly started to plan your future across the pond, where you’d live, where Spencer would work. Where your future hypothetical children could go to school.

But then on the third day, Spencer received a call.

He’d been tapped by the bureau for a special assignment, for which he wasn’t at liberty to tell you much about. His initial reaction had been to decline, nothing was more important to him than your life in London.

But you’d seen the way he winced ever so slightly every time he talked about turning it down. You saw the way his previous elation over your move dampened day by day.

You realised for the first time just how much Spencer missed the FBI. So as much as it killed you to think of your life without him in it, you convinced him to stay.

You both had your own dreams and sadly, they didn’t overlap.

You had a few months until your move and so even if it hurt more in the long run, you and Spencer spent every moment together you could, creating the last few memories you’d ever have together.

He held you tighter in that time, but never enough to hold you back.

Today was your last day together. Tomorrow you would board a flight to London and who knows when you’d be back, if you ever were.

Spencer created the perfect last day, spent hours planning all the places he wanted to take you but you never ended up even leaving his apartment.

You spent the majority of the day in each other's arms, commiting to your minds exactly how the other felt, how they smelt. It was all so bittersweet but you wouldn’t change a second of it.

He loved the lightning, the crashes of electricity he felt when you were close by. But the rain that was rolling in, the rain that followed when you left; he hated that.

Tomorrow was frightening. But not today.

He wanted to slow down time, enjoy every minute of this. But never enough that it would slow you down.

When he suddenly got up, letting go of his grip on you and pacing his living room, you watched him curiously. You took in his frame, every dip and curve of him even though it was shielded by his wrinkled shirt and slacks.

You etched in your heart the way his curls fell down his neck, around his face. You captured his slightly furrowed brow, sharp jawline and cracked lips, filed it all away in the Spencer Reid photo album that lived deep in your soul.

He stopped pacing and looked at you, the weight of it all clear on his features.

“I think that…” he trailed off with a shaky sigh. “I think that maybe you should go.”

You frowned at him, pushing yourself up to your feet.

“I thought the plan was for me to stay and you were going to take me to the airport in the morning?”

“Yeah well, plans change, don’t they?” He snapped much harsher than he’d meant to.

You pouted at his tone, wrapping your arms around your waist and shying away from him.

“Wow,” you choked. “Ok then.”

You turned your back on him towards the bedroom where your bags were and started towards it.

Spencer shook his head at his own stupidity and quickly hurried after you.

“Y/N, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.” His long, nimble fingers encased your wrist and he gently tugged you back to him. “I just…I wish that we could save today. But I know we can’t stay the same. And pushing you away…it seemed like it would hurt less.”

His eyes were misted over with tears and he kept his hold on you, terrified to let you go.

“Maybe I should go.” You shrugged.

“No, please don’t.” He shook his head frantically.

“I think it’s best. It’s never going to hurt any less Spencer but prolonging the pain is making it worse.” A tear escaped your eye as you saw the understanding wash over him.

He wanted to fight it. He wanted to spend every single second you had left together but he knew you were right. He let go of you and raised his arms up to aggressively rub his eyes.

“I knew this would be hard but I didn’t realise just how much it would hurt.” He swallowed. “I feel like someone’s carved out my heart.”

You whimpered a little at his words, taking a step closer to him and cupping his cheeks in your hands. You brushed your fingers over the contours of his face, hoping the feeling of him would help you remember.

“Me too, Spence.” You agreed. “I need you to promise me something.”

“Anything.” He nodded.

“Promise me you won’t wait for me.”

His own tears broke free and suddenly started cascading from his eyes and you wiped them away with your thumbs.

“I don’t know if I can promise you that.” He whined.

“You have to.” You sniffed. “Don’t wait for me, Spence.”

Before he could argue with you, you pressed your lips gently against his, tasting his tears as you kissed him. It was fleeting, it had to be. You’d come to learn all the best things were.

You let go of his face and stepped backwards and he didn’t try to stop you when you went to walk to the bedroom.

He also didn’t try to stop you when you headed back out with your bags. As you passed him, you placed a lingering kiss on his cheek before continuing to the front door.

And again he didn’t stop you when you opened it.

As you stepped into the corridor you turned back to him and smiled at him through your tears.

“I’ll always love you, Spencer Reid.”

“I’ll always love you too.” He replied, his voice cracking with each word.

He watched you leave, his heart feeling as though it was physically shattering inside his chest even though he knew that wasn’t possible.

Looking around his apartment he suddenly hated this place. The place he’d called home for so many years no longer felt like his safe haven.

It felt like the moon was spinning off into outer space without you. The universe an empty place without you. This room was such a lonely place now you’d gone.

And he wasn’t sure he’d ever bounce back from a loss so great.

***

If you didn’t take into account your broken heart, London was everything you’d dreamed of and more.

Work kept you busy enough that during the days you were able to cast all thoughts of your lost love from your mind. But it was at night that all of those memories came flooding back to the surface.

You tried to keep focused on your job, on figuring out a new routine and creating a new normal for yourself; one that didn’t include Spencer Reid.

You engrossed yourself in the little, trivial things. The fastest route to your office, the nicest parks to read in on the weekend and most importantly, where you could find the best coffee on your morning commute.

You explored a new coffee shop every single day but so far nothing compared to that little cafe in DC where you’d reached for a sugar packet one morning and your whole world had changed. Perhaps you never would find one that lived up to those expectations.

Nearly three weeks after your relocation you left early one morning to check out a cafe a little out of your normal route. According to Google it was one of the most highly rated coffee shops in the area.

You allowed yourself to feel something akin to excitement as you pushed open the door of the bustling little artisan shop. If you could find the perfect cafe for your morning pick me up, maybe it would go some way to help repair your broken heart.

You ordered your usual vanilla latte and as soon it was handed to you made your way over to the stand in the corner for some sugar.

And as you reached for the little packet you were awash with deja vu as your fingers brushed against those of another.

When you looked up and your eyes met his deep hazel orbs, your whole world stopped turning on its axis.

He was offering you the most beautiful smile you’d ever seen, and in that moment you felt your heart start to piece itself back together.

“I read online that this was one of the best coffee shops in all of London.” He spoke, a hint of whimsy in his tone. “But, uh, I have also tried another five highly rated coffee places in as many days and they didn’t stack up. This one though…this one has potential.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, eyes clouding over with tears, feeling as though you must be hallucinating because surely this wasn’t real.

“You’ve been here for five days?” Your voice trembled.

“A week actually.” Spencer grinned at you, fingers still brushing against your own.

“Why didn’t you just call?”

“This is far more romantic, don’t you think?” His eyes danced playfully and he dared to slip his hand in yours.

“I…I don’t understand what’s happening.” You felt like all the air had left your lungs. Everything else going on around you faded away.

“I called the bureau, the day you left actually. I turned down the special assignment, told them I left the FBI for a reason and I wasn’t prepared to come back. Then I spoke to the university and some strings were pulled but they managed to secure me a job. In London. I would have been here sooner but between zoom interviews and selling my apartment…but I’m here now.” He squeezed your hand, trying to prove to you he was actually here.

“You… you’re here? For real?” A tear rolled from your eye and Spencer was quick to cup your face and wipe it away.

“I’m here for real. And for good. Or at least as long as you're here.”

“I…I don’t even know what to say.” A few more tears fell but Spencer brushed away every one.

“Say you’ve got room in your apartment for a guy who gave up everything to be with you? And his books, the books need a home too.”

“You’re insane.” You chuckled through your tears and Spencer laughed too.

“Maybe so,” he edged closer to you until you could feel his breath fan across your face. “But I couldn’t make it a few hours in my apartment with you gone. Home is such a lonely place without you, so let’s make a new one here?”

You didn’t have the words to express quite what all of this meant to you and you knew you didn’t need them. Instead of speaking, you closed the gap between you and pressed your lips to his.

Spencer immediately held you tightly, kissing you back with yearning and knowing for a fact that he would never spend another day away from you as long he lived.

Home was such a lonely place without you, but he didn’t plan on finding that out again.

#milestone celebration #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction

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anamericangirl · 3 months

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I’m not sure if you know or care who Th3Birdman is, but he’s a former Christian movie YTer, just saying to preface this. I stumbled across this statement he said about God and human suffering in his Suicide Squad video, I’ll need to put it in quotes to get the entire context, so excuse the formatting:

Movie: “If God existed, wouldn’t this be proof that he wasn’t good at all?”

CS: “Well no actually, God’s goodness, at least biblically speaking from a New Testament perspective, is not something that prevents all human suffering but rather something that offers grace and redemption to all those who have suffered.”

Th3Birdman: “But that skirts the fact that this hypothetical god created everything, including the concept of suffering, and that he knew the people he created would suffer, thereby making him the direct cause of suffering. That’s the problem with primitive fairy tales — they fail at logic and can’t keep up with societal morality. Imagine believing an all-powerful deity needs to send an avatar of himself to Earth with the intention of dying to forgive sins instead of… just forgiving the sins… that he knew was going to happen anyway…”

In another video, he’s also agrees with CS saying that parents force religion onto their children when they’re young since they can’t object, and that Christianity’s “real name” is Christian Mythology. I wanted to know your thoughts on these perspectives since I think it sounds a bit off and you know more about Christianity than I do.

I'm not familiar with him but he sounds like someone who is very hostile against Christianity and God and also doesn't understand the nature of God.

His premise is that suffering is bad and since God is the creator and allows suffering and "created the concept" of suffering then that means God can't be good. But first he has to explain why suffering is bad. Sure, we don't like to suffer but why is the reality of suffering evidence of God not being good?

It sounds like he's saying if God were really good, then he, Birdman, would just be able to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted, he could reject God and disobey him and if God were really good, He would just allow it and Birdman would never have to experience any consequences for anything and never worry about repentance because if God were good he would just forgive him and never let anything bad happen to him while Birdman just does whatever he wants.

For God to be "good" according to his misguided opinion, God would have to eliminate choice out of the equation. And God giving us choice and freedom was a good thing. God didn't create suffering, we created it. And if God took away the concept of suffering then that would demand he take our choice away with it.

We can't have the choice to follow God if the choice to not follow him is not also there. And whether Birdman likes it or not, the evil and suffering in the world is what life is like when we don't follow God. God is not a do-gooder, he is goodness itself and if you choose not to follow goodness then you are left without goodness. We are living in a world that we brought evil and suffering into by choosing to reject the goodness of God. And you can be like Birdman and think well if God was really good he wouldn't have made it so not following him is bad. As C.S. Lewis wrote "God cannot give us a happiness and peace apart from Himself, because it is not there." But that's what Birdman wants. He wants peace and happiness apart from God, where it cannot exist.

He is criticizing God for allowing evil and suffering but he's also criticizing him for stopping it because he's not stopping it how the pseudo-intellectual Birdman is thinks it should be stopped. Whatever Birdman thinks God "could have done" is irrelevant to what reality is.

The reality is sin is real. The reality is consequences are real. The reality is sin is separation from God and it has a price and Birdman better be glad God sent the "avatar" of himself to die and take the punishment that Birdman deserves.

And the thing is God did create a sinless world. We were created in a perfect state with no evil and no suffering and then we broke it. We created it. Blaming God because it’s possible to break perfection is like blaming a chef if you drop a cake they made on the floor and saying, “well, if they were a good chef, they would have made their cake in such a way where throwing it on the floor wouldn’t have destroyed it. And I’m not going to clean up my mess but if they clean it themselves it just proves they aren’t a good chef because they could have made a cake that wouldn’t make a mess.”

Also, he calls it a fairy tale because it doesn't "keep up" with societal morals. And, uh, that's the point. Christianity is not supposed to keep up with societal morals. We keep up with God's morals. Society should be keeping up with God, not the other way around. Societal morals are crap and ever changing and he's a fool if he considers them something God should be "keeping up with."

Does Birdman think he is a good person? If he is a good person and knows how to correctly do forgiveness, which means no one needs to be punished we can "just forgive," is that what he practices and is that how he wants our justice system to work? Should we not prosecute rapists and murderers and just "forgive them" because that's what goodness is like? Is it bad for people to experience consequences for their choices or not? And unless Birdman is without sin he cannot claim to be an authority or even a credible source as to what goodness really is.

Another C.S. Lewis quote because I think it's relevant to Birdman's claims.

“My argument against God was that the universe seemed so cruel and unjust. But how had I got this idea of just and unjust? A man does not call a line crooked unless he has some idea of a straight line. What was I comparing this universe with when I called it unjust? If the whole show was bad and senseless from A to Z, so to speak, why did I, who was supposed to be part of the show, find myself in such a violent reaction against it?... Of course I could have given up my idea of justice by saying it was nothing but a private idea of my own. But if i did that, then my argument against God collapsed too--for the argument depended on saying the world was really unjust, not simply that it did not happen to please my fancies. Thus, in the very act of trying to prove that God did not exist - in other words, that the whole of reality was senseless - I found I was forced to assume that one part of reality - namely my idea of justice - was full of sense. If the whole universe has no meaning, we should never have found out that it has no meaning: just as, if there were no light in the universe and therefore no creatures with eyes, we should never have known it was dark. Dark would be without meaning.”

I hope that answered you and made sense. Sorry it's a little all over the place. Sometimes it really irritates me when atheists try to pass themselves off as intellectuals just by the very nature of being atheist when their arguments against Christianity boil down to "if God were good then evil wouldn't exist" which just shows they don't even have a basic understanding of the religion they're trying to criticize. They like to throw out phrases like christianity is a "fairy tale" and then pretend they are wells of logic and intelligence when that's one of the dumbest statements you can make. You don't have to believe the Bible or Christianity but if you think it's a fairy-tale that's an objectively ignorant and shows you really have no idea what you're talking about.

And he can pretend religion is "forced" onto children when they're young by their parents but I could say the same about atheism. Parents are going to raise their children in accordance with the values and beliefs they subscribe to. Religion is no more forced onto children by religious parents then atheism is forced onto children by atheist parents.

#anon #answered

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therealvinelle · 9 months

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This has been picking my squishy little thought organ.

Submitted to several others for a wide range of potential awnsers

If Jalice had a kid, what are some hypothetical gifts it could have?

I could see it having the gift of giving hallucinations.

(that previous ANON got me thinking, clearly)

Because of his emotional ability--> making them believable. [Fool the emotions all else will follow.] Her visions are quite sporadic at times. ---> crafting the mental space devoted to that.

Environmental Factors---> Bella & her daughter can project, and I think environmental factors will give the gift a push to be able to be casted. INSTEAD of actually just ending up with hyperaphantasia.

"People with hyperphantasia can imagine scenes, sounds, smells, tastes, and sensations with great clarity and detail. They may also have enhanced abilities in creativity, memory, and empathy."

Alice & Bella are besties, so they'll spend a considerable amount of time together interacting. So, I think the block Renesme has on the visions will be a giant factor too.

Despite Bella and Alice just not being close it will happen anyway. Cause there's nowhere realistically for her to go.

She's stuck and Alice probably isn't going to get a vision going oh, now is the right time to leave.

Even if you could argue oh, they'll never fight. Most likely right unless we wanna go even more Au... {Which I am 100% ok with}

But I think Alice's slight harboring of resentment for Renesme for blocking her visions will be the key in the lock for this to all work out right.

She isn't going to stop blocking them. Alice already has had time to get over her gift dependency so much but like she won't do that.

Jasper's gift can't be blocked by a shield, but I imagine he's a little immune to Renesme's gift. (Realistically not...? But it's a silly little Tumblr post I don't want to think about the power scale too hard and implode.)

I was hoping you could pick up where I left off about how things realistically work in Twilight.

Besides the whole vampires have a kid despite one being infertile.

But I think this would be a hell-on-wheels problem. Cause while Jasper I'd argue! Has a more moral conscious (at least in the ways we see it.) than Alice. But they're both pretty grey.

Which means they're both pretty ruthless. Like Bella and Edward are for their child.

All i know is this offspring would have to be so lucky to not be snatched by the Volturi.

I think this kid would fare better than Renesme in the short and long term. Even if they were both hybrids. This kid would have parents that would in my opinion actually teach it more.

I think Bella and Edward don't teach Renesme. much.

I think Jasper would make sure his kid had the skills should they be needed to be used. And Alice would support this or just let it happen. I think he's a more active parent than her but that's 100% different bullshit Au type of discussion and I just needed to drop this meta off to blogs for their thoughts.

I am driving myself crazy. I would like to sleep.

Well, I'm not entirely sure how this child would come to be in the first place as Jasper and Alice can't have one.

Assuming, though, that God bestowed one upon them, I subscribe to @smallcatwoman's fellow who has the gift of seeing emotional outcomes, the child would be as delightfully alien as Alice only in a very different way (optimal future-oriented Alice versus happiest outcome-seeker Greige).

As for how the child is raised, I imagine it would have much the same upbringing as Renesmee. If Jasper and Alice are interested in teaching a child, Renesmee is right there and is, by all accounts, The Cullen Child™. They are all devoting every resource to her, raising her communnaly for all that she is officially Bella and Edward's.

A second child with a different set of parents would, if possible, be even more Cullen Communal Property than Renesmee: Bella, at least, had an interest in her child, Alice screams childfree. Oh, she'll be the cool aunt and take the kid shopping, no problem, but parenting? Motherhood?

Esme and Rosalie can do the hard parts, and Jasper and Carlisle too if they want. Alice will be pointing out that God making the child genetically hers was simply a matter of good taste, doesn't mean she should be raising the damn thing.

And the child gets to live in the shadow of Renesmee, who was wanted by her mother, the first and miraculous baby everybody and their cousin were willing to die for, and has a guy imprinted on her. Renesmee, by all accounts, would be the golden child and the other one would be... the other one.

Wasn't supposed to exist, his mother foisted him off and prefers to dress up Renesmee anyway, and his gift is only able to tell him that he can't be happy around his family, so he ignores it.

Perhaps Greige will love Renesmee, but I prefer the timeline where he resents her too much to recognise his cousin for just as unhappy as he is, and Renesmee has no idea why but only knows that she can't meaningfully connect to him.

Drama is had.

#twilight #twilight renaissance #twilight headcanons #greige #renesmee cullen #twilight meta

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outrunningthedark · 3 months

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okay question! Where did all the Tommy/Buck speculation come from? How did it start? Why were we speculating Tommy was coming back in the first place? I think I missed how it all started. I mean I enjoy it, I just want to know how it started before the basketball of it all.

The timeline (long, but you get the full picture):

-> Ryan followed him on IG. Myself and some others said that he wouldn’t be following a past cast member he never had to interact with if Lou wasn’t coming back in some capacity (True!)

-> Fandom made up a scenario where the Buckley-Diaz fam was going to be on a basketball court and someone (they originally wanted Chris) got injured because JLH accidentally posted a portion of a scene where you could see Buck and Maddie are gonna talk about it

-> I was asked if I thought Eddie was the more likely option. I said that if it wasn’t Eddie, I was curious if it would be Tommy because of the IG follow (because I wasn’t making deadlines on how long he’d be around)

-> Another person sent in a joke about Buck not liking Tommy because he gets friendly with Eddie and Buck feels “left out”.

I said that I could see that exact scenario playing out because it’s Tim calling the shots and he likes to write Buddie scenes that aren’t explicitly Buddie.

Buck gets defensive thanks to the “new guy” -> feels like he has something to prove -> Tommy figures out what’s up, maybe because of Eddie -> tells Buck he wasn’t trying to “intrude” -> conflict resolved, start of a possible friendship if Tommy were to stick around this season

I called it Buddie 2.0 because that is, ofc, what happened in 2x01.

You can guess how people reacted 😛

-> Before we knew about basketball scene, I had said that I think Buck or Eddie coming out was a possibility in the first ABC season if the goal is to tell the audience what show they’re watching and give them the option to check out early. (See: Michael and Tarlos)

Someone asked me if I thought Tommy could be an intro of sorts to Buck realizing his attraction to men.

I said that I wouldn’t rule it out because Buck is likely to be single vs. Eddie in a relationship still and I don’t feel comfortable saying no when this fandom has a tendency of “predicting” the complete opposite of canon when it comes to LIs.

Apparently, I have a lot of stalkers because now I’m “that blog” pushing a theory when really all I’m doing is having a conversation about hypotheticals with other people that doesn’t upset me. Because I accept that Buddie ain’t happening right now.

…and that’s what you missed on Glee! 🤪

#anonymous #tina speaks

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starcourtsteves · 2 years

Text

as the world caves in ~ steve harrington

summary: you and steve are stuck in the upside down and find a moment to plan for a future that you aren’t sure will even happen

warnings: SEASON 4 SPOILERS, established relationship, lots of angst, protective!steve, injuries/blood, fluff, food mention, kids mention, a proposal of sorts, two lovers against the world 💔

yes, based off this song. give it a listen before/during/after, it’ll hurt so good

Running. It’s been so much running. Running and ducking and dodging and hurling rocks at those godforsaken bats.

You stay a step ahead, trying your best not to let your feet snag on any tentacle-branches. Steve hisses now and again from behind you, gripping the bloody bandages on his abdomen and staying alert to make sure nothing — or no one — else is following you.

A tug on your beltloop is startling but Steve whispers, “hey, this way,” and you follow him backward into a thick, tangled mass of underbrush against a tree. The middle is hollowed out with just enough room for the two of you to sit huddled side by side. The bats quickly lose your scent and fly off.

Finally, some peace and quiet. As much as you can find in a horrible, dangerous underworld like the Upside Down.

“Dustin made me watch The Birds last year,” Steve grumbles. “Seemed stupid at the time. Now I never wanna see anything with wings again.”

But you don’t answer — not even a laugh or tease about how much he actually enjoys hanging with Dustin. The terror keeps you quiet.

And Steve can’t have that.

“Hey. Except you, angel, right?” He nudges your side, lifting his arm for you to lean against him. “You’ll sprout wings one day if you get any prettier.”

You finally crack a smile, looking over at Steve and gingerly wiping at another smear of blood on his cheek. “You first.”

He scoffs. “Right. I’m wearing Eddie freaking Munson’s vest right now, in case you haven’t noticed. Not my best look.”

Your eyes flick down and up his bare chest under the cut of denim. “I think it works.” Knowing what was coming, you lean back against his muscled arm and look up into the trees.

“Wow, not even mortal danger can get you to keep it in your pants?”

“It’s a welcome distraction, that’s all.”

Steve chuckles, giving your ribs a quick squeeze and relishing in how you sink further into him. He presses a kiss to your hair before resting his head on yours, sighing deeply.

Thunder cracks in the distance, sending red lightning shooting across the sky. A flock of demon-bats screeches overhead and you and Steve cower closer together. When they pass, he keeps his voice low.

“Sorry I couldn’t get you out.”

“Steve, no—”

“No, I should’ve gone faster.” He drags his free hand dejectedly over his face to tangle in his hair. “Should’ve hurried Eddie and Robin and Nance and gotten you up that goddamn sheet-rope thing before it all went wrong.”

You could cry at the pain in his voice. “It’s not your fault. Vecna sensed us.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s just...here.” He fiddles with one of his bracelets, a simple string of leather, and pulls it off his wrist. “I’ve been meaning to give this to you anyway. Take it, yaknow, for just in case I don’t make it out.”

“In case we don’t make it out.”

Steve laughs dryly. “No, you’re getting out. I’ll make sure of that.”

You slip it on your own wrist, admiring it sadly. Then you furrow your brows at Steve. “I’ll be giving this back to you because you will make it out.”

“Okay, okay, roger that.”

To quell the tension — the “we’d probably have an argument about this if our lives weren’t in danger” tension — Steve speaks up again.

“What’s the first thing you’re gonna eat when we get out? I feel like we haven’t had food in days.”

You hum thoughtfully, happy to play along. Steve and his hypotheticals were how you first started dating, and it’s his favorite conversation starter to keep the spark alive.

“Gotta be fries. A whole plate of ‘em from that diner next to the video shop.”

“Good answer, I’ll take it,” he croons, sneaking a kiss to your shoulder. “Personally, I’ll be arriving unannounced at Casa Henderson. Dustin’s mom makes a mean lasagna and with a little Harrington charm, she’ll make it any time I want.”

You nudge his chest, careful to avoid the bandaged bite wounds and earning a small grunt from Steve. “Not even mortal danger can get in the way of your ego.”

“Or my lasagna.”

The two of you share a giggle and then quiet down again, listening to the dulcet sounds of otherworldly monsters roaring in the distance. A nervous wring of your hands brings your gaze back down to where Steve’s bracelet sits on your left wrist, and you stare longingly at it again.

Steve reaches for your hand, lifting it in front of you both and ghosting his touch over your ring finger. It stirs something in you and you both try to speak.

“So would you—”

“You know, I—”

Steve chuckles and you bicker briefly on who should talk first. You finally mime locking your lips and throwing away the key, leaving Steve to bashfully make his point.

“I was just thinking. You know, long-term planning because we’ll definitely get out of here.” He shrugs, gesturing, shaking his head, and finally convinces himself to spit it out. “Marriage. Like, we could get married. Eventually, of course, if you wanted. You’ve never specified if you’re into the whole marriage and kids and white picket fence thing, but—”

“But I am,” you cut him off, chest flooding with warmth. You tangle your fingers with his and squeeze, melting at the happy relief in Steve’s eyes. It’s fanciful and ridiculous to consider in your current circumstance but the spark of hope is what you need. “And I accept your proposal. For some day.”

“Eventually.”

“When we’re ready.” After a beat, you add with a sly smile, “The marriage and kids thing?”

He bites back a grin. “Well with the natural progression of how these things work, yaknow, I think it’s on the table.”

“I think it’s on the table, too,” you hum contentedly. “What about Max?”

“What about her?” Tendrils of his hair flounce as he snaps his head to you in bewilderment. “Please don’t tell me she and Lucas have made up and are planning to get married, like, now.”

You clap a hand over your mouth to stifle a laugh. “No! No, god no, a million miles from that. I think they’ve made up but no. I meant, what about naming our maybe-someday-kid Max? Since it works for a boy or girl.”

He’s already shaking his head. “Nah, we can’t name our kid after any of those little shits we know. Even though Max is the least little shit of ‘em all.”

“Steve Jr.?”

You’re only met with a gagging noise, and you smack Steve’s knee. “Okay! Okay. Fine then, what do you want for a name?”

He leans his head back to think, drumming his fingers against your leg for emphasis. “Something classic. No grandpa names, nothing flowery. Something like George. Or George...ina.”

“Georgina? Georgina Harrington, that’s somehow better?”

“I don’t know, maybe!” Steve sputters, tongue peeking through his teeth as he laughs. You dissolve into equal laughter and it’s the most lighthearted you’ve felt in days.

But the feeling is fleeting and a heaviness sets in your chest again. Steve’s smile fades, too, and he pulls you closer with a sad sigh. The wishful thinking is just that — wishful, and your reality in the Upside Down is much worse. This hiding pause feels like a temporary salve, one that could disappear in an instant and leave the world to crash down around you.

The quiet picket-fence life is a dangerous daydream.

The demon-bats cry out again, but the sound is the farthest it’s been. The rest of the monstrous woods are also relatively quiet and you feel Steve brace against the ground.

“Probably should get on the move again,” he murmurs, “find a new place to hide.”

You nod solemnly and stand with him, carefully clawing out of your tangled hiding space. He seems to have gathered a little strength and puts himself in front, clasping your hand to his side to keep you close.

“Ready?”

“Ready.”

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #god I hurt my own feelings with this one #but i'm posting this from a bar rn so there

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blackstarchanx3new · 8 months

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yes, surprisingly I’m putting another one because I’m annoying

so-

out of these LOVELY carbon based life forms

(Yes I am aware my art sucks, but ibis paint and shattered iPhone do NOT MIX)

would win in a fight (-triforce stuffs because that would give unfair advantages I think)

I swear, people always wanna power scale characters I write and my response will ALWAYS be:

"Well that depends"

Because I don't write characters based on "Is he over 9,000!?" dragonball logic lmfao.

Dark Link HYPOTHETICALLY could slap the ever loving shit out of all 4 Links if he used his powers right RIGHT NOW in the comic. Comic could be over within 2 seconds if that was the case. (Shadow is disqualified because the triforce of power is)

Because the dude, can literally break your mind in a second and then stab the fuck out of you if he REALLY felt like it.

But...He WOULDN'T. Because in his own words that's "Boring".

Dark Link doesn't play the typical "WHEN YOU'RE OUT OF MY WAY I'LL RULE THE WORLD" because that's literally the last thing on this dude's mind.

Dark's motivations keep him from doing anything that'd end the comic.

Dark's motivations of wanting to be given affection completely cancel out the idea he WOULD hurt the Link's physically long term because he wants them alive.

So the idea "Dark could slap everyone in a second flat" is null and void imo because of characterization reasons. He'd. Never. Do. That.

HE COULD. But he WOULDN'T.

I find hypotheticals that completely disregard the characterization super boring as well "Who is the strongest" Is such a silly question.

Because it tosses out the question "Well would they really do that?"

How do you define power?

Especially when placing arbitrary restrictions like "No Triforce" because, well.. you know the answer then?

Shadow Link is the strongest because he has the triforce of Power. He trumps Dark in that department but also has control over Dark because Dark is a demon. But then, Link hypothetically can slap the shit out of Shadow if he really needed too...Because Link canonically has the power to slap Gannon silly.

But "Why the fuck would they do that" is the prevailing question?

They are written this way for a reason.

I make strong as hell characters (Dark included) but the "power scaling" is mostly defined by their personalities/what they'd actually do.

Because then we get into the question "What is strength actually?" emotional strength? Physical? Magical?

I have a writing rule:

OP Character? Make their restrictions based on their personality.

Cause this isn't two characters fighting in a void...this is a comic with a story flow and specific characterization built the way it is to get to a point.

"That's not what the story is about" is the blunt answer I have.

Dark doodle for my writing rant troubles.

I guess what bugs the hell out of me by the question "Who's the strongest" is

"What the fuck led to this hypothetical death match to begin with?"

and I just cannot fathom a reason why this would be happening because my characters are not written for these weird hypotheticals.

The fights that are in my stories are there, because it furthers the plot. Not to show off power?

They're written for the story they're contained in, in which there are very specific rules they must follow because my brain said so.

"Character x will win this fight, because that's how the story goes, if it were to go the other way, the story would end."

The question itself is antithetical to the idea of the stories I tell.

#four swords returns #four swords returns au

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redemptionbaby · 2 years

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WAIT HANG ON HOW WOULD THE GANG REACT TO THE GOOD OL' "would u still love me if I was a worm🥺" QUESTION LMAO

GOOD QUESTION. Here are the select results.

Charles would not only still love you, he would make you an ornate terrarium out of a large glass jug and fill it with only the healthiest forest ferns, the most polite pillbugs and woodlice, the most nutrient rich soil, and the most tasty of fruit and vegetable compost scraps for you. Every day he writes a tiny love note message on a piece of eggshell for you (baby worm needs calcium)

Sean, John, and Javier get too tied down by the realistic aspects of this scenario. Why did you become a worm? Did a witch curse you? Because then I’d just kill the witch and break the curse. Would you still be able to talk as a worm? Could we still do…. Like…. Intimate things….?

Mary Beth is trying sooooooo hard to be nice and say “Yes, of course,” but in truth she thinks worms are gross. She could never live being married to a worm. But if it makes you feel better, I as the writer think that if it really happened, that she would learn to adjust because she wouldn’t have the heart to abandon you.

“Yes, of course!” Reply Kieran, Bill, and Karen, a little too loudly and a little too immediately.

Dutch would spout some poetic nonsense as his way of avoiding the question so you don’t get mad at him. “Are all men not worms themselves, at the end of the day?”

Arthur would say yes, but he does so with hesitation, not because he doesn’t like worms, but because he doesn’t know how to look after a worm. What if you got stepped on or something? He doesn’t know how to bandage a worm. Asking this question is more stressful to him than you could ever have predicted.

Micah: “Honestly, I would probably step on ya before I even realized it was you, sugar.”

Hosea and Sadie think that if you became a worm you should return to the earth, not because they couldn’t love you, but because they don’t think you could ever be happy as a worm if you had to live alongside humans

Abigail says “yes” automatically and without even hearing you because this is the exact brand of dumb question John comes up with when it’s just the two of them on a long trip or something.

Little Jack would say yes but it’s followed by about 1000000 questions about worms (because he’s trying to be educated so he’s be able to keep you alive in this hypothetical scenario)

Molly immediately grimaces, but she at least does you the curtesy of hesitating before she says no.

BONUS Albert Mason: almost disturbingly enthusiastic about the idea. Promises he would start a calendar series about you. A magazine. Make postcards of you. That’s how beautiful you would still be to him even if you were a worm. He’d have a travel sized terrarium he guarded with his life so he could take you to see all the natural wonders of North America and let you taste all of the soils.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #writing #rdr2 x reader #red dead redemption 2 x reader #gang reactions #Albert Mason #tagging him because he has so little content I know us Mason lovers sometimes be hunting for scraps…

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fuckmeyer · 9 months