#this was just some random idea tbh

[ymechi]

The hidden creator

I had a plot bunny idea

TW: usual cult stuff, hints of yandere

-gn reader (I tried making it gender-neutral if there is a comment that is off please tell me and I will fix it)

EDIT: 14/11/2023 (changed some wording and other stuff nothing major)

Creator Reader Pov:

-You were just a regular person who one day woke up in Teyvat out of all places

-You realized you still had all your game features and figured it was one of the perks of being isekaied like in other isekai stories

-The whole thing is weird and why you were here, you had no idea

-After the novelty wears off you take some time mourning the loss of your previous life and the people you knew

-After that you try to get a semblance of a normal life like getting a job and trying to be independent

-Despite having a game system you do not want to be an adventurer or learn how to fight it's not for you

-You were previously an average civilian and raised as one it would be hard to become a fighter now

-Instead you gravitated towards creating things, you found an apprentice position in a clockwork shop in Fontaine

-It is fun and you get to tinker with gears and clocks, learning how various machines work and how to create your own items

-overall you are content

-Except weird people occasionally come by the shop you work at including the Iudex of Fontaine which had both you and the shopkeeper sweating the first few times

-Yet the man who insisted you call him by his name Neuvilette is really polite and nice to talk to, soon you warmed up to him

-You could not help the feeling as if you knew him from before, as if you forgot something, you were unusually fond of him.

-Your other "clients" if you could call them that were more intimidating, you had no idea what they were doing in this shop and it scared you

-The Fatui Harbringers occasionally stopped by the shop to buy a trinket or two before leaving, it honestly scared you and the thaught of running away to another nation had crossed your mind once or twice yet you liked your job and your boss and you made some good friends here so it was hard to leave

-Overall you were doing okay

-Except it seems the people here almost in a cult-like manner worship a creator that was never in the game lore

-It is said they resided in Celestia and not many people actually got to see them, not that it mattered for a nobody like you

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

Tsaritsa Pov:

-The Tsaritsa knew their so called creator was fake

-She knew she had to get rid of the fake creator as they and Celestia had caused irreparable damage

-Even if she had to stain her hands

-One day it happened something shifted in the earth, air, water- no the whole of Teyvat

-It happened so softly like a small snowflake landing on the ground

-She was hypnotized as if a siren was beckoning her she found you.

-You were their true creator

-You were wearing apprenticeship clothes tinkering with something in your hands and deeply concentrated

-She wondered if that is how you created the universe with careful and steady hands guiding and shaping it to your will.

-She wanted to take you away from this. . . small shop, yet she knew begrudgingly you were safe here, if anyone were to find out a sliver of your existence. . .

-You were safer hidden among mortals

-It left a bitter taste in her mouth

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

Neuvilette Pov

-It just happened one day, out of the blue, he could feel it in the shift of the waters

-The way Furina shifted and turned her head unable to sit still confirmed he was not the only one feeling this

-Something happened and he had no idea what exactly happened

-There was this familiar presence this comforting feeling, ancient old instincts waking up

-He followed it without thought until he came upon an in inconspicuous clockwork shop

-He was confused but did not hesitate to step inside

-Then he saw you and everything clicked

-It was you his creator his universe his everything

-You were back

-It seems in this incarnation you were just a human

-That was fine he was oaky with that as long as you were here

-His heart ached seeing you

-He wanted to hug and ask you to never leave again to always stay by his side, for you to comfort him after what had happened and console him

-He should take you way somewhere safer somewhere better not here-

-But weren't you safer hiding among mortals, a part of his mind whispered, no one would suspect you being here even the fake (he cursed them) would not think of finding you here, if he brought you back with him it would create more attention on you

-Attention that would cause you trouble

-He left with defeat on his steps

-It was later he would met the Tsaritsa and a deal was struck

-All for your sake

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

Wyll is constantly trying to live up to his title Blade of Frontiers, it’s his best self. He needs to live up to the name, needs to live up to the image he created, needs to live up to the expectations everyone has. As he sees it, he needs to survive because the Sword Coast needs the Blade of Frontiers, not because Wyll Ravengard is a person who deserves happiness and a future. He’s tied his worth to the title, the persona. He sold his soul to protect others, he can’t regret what he did, he needs to make his sacrifice meaningful and he can only do that as The Blade.

Majexatli had a title once, as a young druid they earned the title of Faithwarden. At least they think they earned it, they had fiercely protected people, protected nature, and they did it because they wanted to belong, they wanted to prove their talent and worth so they would finally earn a place to call home. But they don’t even know if they were given that title because of their achievements or if Althyran pulled some strings, giving them something they wanted so they wouldn’t second guess the deal they made with him. After Althyran betrayed them, Majexatli was going to be stripped of their title (and by extension the place they finally felt they belonged and were at home), so they ran and abandoned the circle and Silvanus and everything Silvanus stood for. So they had no title, no home, no love, nowhere they belonged.

When Kagha in the Emerald Grove named Majexatli Faithwarden after they helped her see sense and defeated the Shadow druids, Majexatli doesn’t wear that title, they bristle and recoil at it. They’re not a druid, they don’t worship Silvanus, they don’t protect the balance, they should not be given such an honor. Faithwarden was a title that belonged to a person who had died decades ago. It was a title earned by someone who sacrificed everything and was still left to die alone. The noble thing would have been to die with that title, they would have been remembered and loved if they had been a martyr, a tragedy, instead of surviving as something broken and bloodied. They don’t want the title of someone who thought they could only find divinity on their knees, who believed they were only worthy by laying down and letting others take and take until their bones are picked clean.

Majexatli looks at Wyll and sees Wyll Ravengard, not the Blade of Frontiers. They want Wyll to look at them and see Majexatli, not a Faithwarden or Silvanus worshiping druid.

But Wyll wants to be The Blade, worries that Majexatli only loves him as a Hero. They’re a Sage Druid that would only love a Selfless Hero, not someone who was just a person.

And Majexatli takes the title of Faithwarden, worried that Wyll loves the Druid and that he is a Heroic Monster Hunter that would never love them if he saw they were a Monster.

[greenfiend]

So I went on Reddit (big mistake I know). And it’s honestly so fascinating to me, like from a psychological perspective, how adamant 99% of them are that there’s zero evidence for Byler/Mike being queer.

When there’s actually more evidence for Byler than so many other ships out there? (For comparison sake, I shipped Ron/Hermione back in the day, and I was fairly confident they’d end up together (they did). Though, there was not as much evidence… I’d argue.)

Like, do just a few minutes of research and you’ll find evidence in the cinematography, the music, the costume design, the script, the acting choices, and more.

To be fair, I *try* to look up evidence to the contrary… and what do I find? Shallow, surface level evidence… “Mike said he loves Eleven” (completely ignoring how lying is a major reoccurring theme in the show…)

Then you have them all echoing that Bylers are delusional. And I’m not even upset. I’m just fascinated. The lack of insight is astounding.

[aeligsido]

someone plz stop me from planning fics,

[svtskneecaps]

literally it's 3am where i live and i'm on mobile but FUCK IT i haven't posted any actual writing in like a YEAR on this blog whose description include the words "I WRITE" and i can't tell if i'm even going anywhere with this so fuck it under the cut is the prospective absolute mess of the first chapter of the flipo family time loop fic. (for clarity, flipo family as in slime, mariana, and juanaflippa) this covers loop 0, aka the relevant parts of canon. words: 1630

parts of it i popped off with and other parts i hate; up to you to identify them. also the italics and other formatting got erased when i copy pasted and i'm re-adding all of it by hand so if i missed a spot, no i didn't. if i missed an accent on a letter in spanish that was a typo, if i missed a ¡ or ¿ that may have been on purpose.

oh and for obvious reasons, content warning for mentions and mild descriptions of child death and child murder. no blood, and most of it is a three word mention; i'd say the brief paragraph beginning "Tilín didn't scream" is most of the reason this warning exists.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

He’d been hoping for a bright, sunny day to start their vacation, but was sorely disappointed. The portal had apparently taken them pretty far, since they’d gone from noon to night time. Talk about jetlag. They hadn’t even been on a plane.

“What happened to the other guys?” he wondered aloud as he stepped onto the platform.

“Yeah no clue,” Phil said, scanning the empty station. “Thought they’d meet us here.”

“Guys!” one of the Spanish speakers--Vegetta, he’d said, when they’d all met up at the first station--called, from a lectern at the wall. “There is a book!”

They crowded around as he read the instructions aloud--something about pressure plates, Slime wasn’t paying that close of attention. He was a little more preoccupied with making sure it only felt like his brain was dripping out of his ears. That would be kind of embarrassing.

Which was not to say that he wasn’t enjoying the constant onslaught of people talking over each other using words he may or may not understand. In fact, it was the opposite; he was frankly thriving in the absolute chaos that kicked back up around him as a timer appeared in the wrist communicators they’d been provided along with their tickets.

“Como se dice ‘we are going to die now’?” He giggled, chasing Phil and Fit to one end of the station.

“¡Vamos a morir!” shouted Spiderman, echoed seconds later by the black bear in the collared shirt.

Giddy over the high of attempting to use his high school foreign language for the first time maybe ever, Slime absolutely didn’t contribute much to solving the puzzle, and before long the sound of the timer ticking down was accompanied by a loud buzzing alarm.

“It’s been an honor!” he shrieked at the top of his lungs. “It’s been an honor!”

The bear ran past them again, shouting, “I’m going to die!” in English this time.

“Adiós amigos!” Slime yelled.

The countdown ended.

And then his communicator buzzed, and there was a video playing on the screen, showing a cartoonish yellow duck in front of a blurry beach stock photo. He skimmed it absently--some generic welcoming message and another side quest for them--distracted by Maximus audibly losing his shit laughing across the station.

“Come on, I’m trying to take a vacation, I gotta work now?” Fit complained. “This is ridiculous.”

Slime wanted to jump on that bit, but the message cut off with coordinates marred by static and the noise of the emergency weather alert system and he lost his train of thought completely.

“I got the English book!” Spreen called, holding it with two fingers like it had personally offended him.

“English leader,” Vegetta said, seeming to find that amusing.

“English leader.” Spreen laughed and flicked the book away. Slime stepped back but somehow it still nailed him in the chest.

“Guess I’m reading then,” he said cheerfully.

“In Spanish?” Maximus said.

“Um.”

Vegetta called something, backing across the plaza with the book open in his hands. Phil backed up to the wall.

“Here,” Phil instructed, “we’ll read it here.”

“Okay okay.” He flicked it open. “So we have to get water wheel planks--”

Their peace lasted a grand total of thirty seconds as voices suddenly began shouting, overlapping in chaotic chorus.

“What is that?” Fit demanded.

“Is that coming from the other side?” Phil stared up at the top of the wall.

“This is the thinnest thick wall I’ve ever seen,” Slime said, giddy laughter bubbling out of him again. “Is this thing made out of pencil shavings? If I sneeze on it, is there gonna be a hole?”

“Nevermind, we’ll read it over here.” Phil dragged them away again, but the Spanish speakers were dispersing into the trees.

“Forget the book,” Fit said, “follow them!”

(In the end it was explosives that took the wall down, which in hindsight was a precursor to how a not insignificant portion of time on the island was spent. The first day, however, it was just funny, much like everything else.)

(That was to say, the first first day.)

The communicator had indicated that today there was something special planned, so he made an extra effort to wake up.

“Morning Jaiden!” he called to his upstairs neighbor.

“Hi Charlie!” He could hear her farming through the wall. “Glad you woke up on time!”

“Well you know, you know, El Backflipo couldn’t miss it,” he joked, sifting through his backpack. “Got any spare food? I’ll trade you uno backflipo.”

“I have so much toast, come here and get some, free of charge.”

With a quick backflip and some toast to start the day, he popped open the map.

“There’s a lot of people down the wall,” he noted, their green dots so clustered they formed one. “Wanna check it out?”

“Yeah sure.” Jaiden tossed some seeds into a chest. “Do you know what this event’s gonna be?”

“I have no idea,” he admitted cheerfully.

She laughed. “Yeah, me neither. I guess there’s an egg involved, but that’s all I know.”

He dug around in his backpack for a paraglider, nodding along. “Yeah, yeah, un huevo, I get you.” Shuffling the landmine from Vegetta to one side, he yanked out his glider and threw himself out her window. “Let’s go!”

(nothing like getting struck by lightning to wake a guy up in the morning)

Slime fiddled with the communicator as he waited for the line of people to get through the ticket machine; he already had his own, a nice B for Backflipo. The new live translations still boggled his mind. He had to fight the urge to chant weird shit under his breath, just to see what the bubbles would say.

He paid a little extra attention when Mariana walked up to the machine. That guy seemed cool. They’d done that pequeño dormir together on day one, and he had a good sense of humor. Egg parenting would probably be funny.

He was thrilled to see the B for Backflipo on the ticket Mariana stepped away with, even if Mariana was decidedly less so. This was gonna be good.

(it was, and it wasn’t)

So, Mariana wasn’t exactly the coparent of dreams. Then again, Slime was pretty sure Mariana could say the same about him. In fact he was pretty sure Mariana had said the same, but in Spanish, when he wasn’t checking the translation.

It was great. They thought they’d killed a child immediately and then decided to fake their own child’s death to get away with it, and then confessed their sins to a bilingual angel and built a farm and then he buried himself beneath an improvised cross and went into a coma until his sins were forgiven, or something, except his sins weren’t forgiven in time to save his own child’s life.

And then Juanaflippa was dead. Dead at Mariana’s hand.

His bitch wife killed their daughter.

(Everything went faster, after that.)

Slime wanted to kill him.

Slime wanted to kill him for killing their fucking daughter, but of course, Mariana couldn’t even be bothered to be around to take care of her alive, never mind to pay for his crimes when she died by his hand!

(in a better world, his rage started and ended there. in a better world, the anger fizzled out with the lack of a target.

this was not that world)

There couldn’t be an Egg Event with no eggs.

If he killed them all, it would bring her back.

(in a worse world, he succeeded. in a worse world, the Egg Event ended there.

this was not that world)

They held a trial.

If he won, it would bring her back.

(in another world, he didn’t convince them. in another world, they left his daughter in Hell.

this was not that world)

Tilín was still before she hit the ground.

Tilín didn’t scream. Maybe they didn’t have time. It happened so fast. He was sure it happened fast. Almost too fast. But everything went so fast, now, even though Flippa was back. Yet, time slowed down for this, like a rubberneck driving past a highway accident, watching him desperately trying to shock their heart back into motion.

“YOU KILL MY BEST FRIENDS,” Flippa wrote. He begged her to understand. She wrote, “i can’t believe it.”

She wrote, “I HATE YOU.”

(in a better world, the error would have been caught in April instead of July.

this was not that world)

His daughter fell to his bitch wife’s sword. The same way. The next day.

They’d only just gotten her back. And Mariana killed her again.

He only left eggxile for the funeral. She wouldn’t stay dead, but he had to be there.

Time went even faster after that. He was Gegg, or maybe Gegg was him, or maybe Gegg was Gegg, or maybe. . . ?

He went back to eggxile.

He wasn’t leaving without them. Tilín. Juanaflippa. He would do whatever was necessary. He would pray to any higher power. Lil J still owed him a goddamn favor, but the guy wouldn’t pick up his calls. Maybe if he put more shit in the shrine; angels liked shiny shit, didn’t they? He went back to the mine, where the gasses swirled in his head. He built the shrine. He mined. He built the shrine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

He went back to the mine.

“This is where I sit, this is where my bitch wife sits, and this is where my daughter sits, if I had one!”

He’d said that before. No he hadn’t. Yes he had.

No, he just needed to clear his head.

Charlie Slimecicle went back to the mine.

Charlie Slimecicle stepped off the train.

[sotogalmo]

8:38

He(HH Adam) could never be him(Kaworu)

[deus-ex-mona]

s. s ave me, meoto…

[rosykims]

DAO FINISHED <3 ELSPETH COULSAND TAKEN OUT BACK AND SHOT </3

[napsaps-archive]

ok ill tell you it was me, traidy ! hope your reaction was something along the lines of "yay traidy!" and not "oh no.. its traidy" (also it was me as in i was the one who talked about a gossip gc hehe)

SKBDISQJH yay traidy :D you are such a good presence on my dash and i love love love seeing posts from you because you are always so so based all the time like i have yet to see an opinion of yours that didn't line up with mine and you rb the coolest art and you're FUNNY which is so amazing to me personally i love reading your tags, i hope you're having a nice day <3

[frtizzcrackerz]

pokemon parenting au but each champion take care of their respective protagonists

[lipstickontheglass1985]

star trek tng s5e5 disaster would be such a beautiful name for a babygirl btw

[yepthatsacowalright]

"Challenging emotional experiences in our own lives are frequently accompanied by anxiety because we know the effects of those experiences will be ongoing and we'll continue to have to deal with them. However, research by Thalia Goldstein has shown that when we watch television and movies that depict similarly challenging emotional experiences, while we still feel the same emotions we would in real life, we do so without anxiety. ...They called this the distancing-embracing model, and it explains why we can actually enjoy the negative emotions we experience when we consume art. According to the model, art keeps consumers at a safe distance from the suffering it depicts but is simultaneously attention-getting, emotionally involving, and memorable. So, while we feel the emotions art conveys, the distance it offers provides us with power and control, allowing us to feel safe to experience those emotions."

-  Finding Truth in Fiction: What Fan Culture Gets Right--and Why It's Good to Get Lost in a Story

[kadkadduwa]

knox and vandal bed convo "He may be... big and tough and really fun to play with... but he's not you. I never feel pathetic or alone in the world when I'm with you... and you somehow manage to put up with all of me... I love you." sloppy kiss. the end

[un-pearable]

i have zero desire to actually get into dragon ball but damn do some of their character concepts slap

[yourqueenb]

I don’t hate this, but I think my problem with it is the galaxy pattern. Something about it is weird, especially in comparison to the suede looking material of whatever that is around her waist and the neck

[ancientchameleon]

The problem with being on tumblr is that no one off of tumblr understands the fucking batshit insane drama