#I really want too

[imari4444]

Imma ramble about a fan fic idea I had centered around the nameless bard. (Warning, a lot of text ramble)

Okay so Yknow how there’s a lot of fics where the nameless bard comes back to life?

When i first joined the genshin fandom i used to eat these fics up, but something that always upset me was the lack of nameless bard reincarnation fics (i think i came across one in my hours of internet searching). Let me ramble further here… to me, reincarnation and ‘resurrection’ are two completely different concepts.

Coming back to life; that person is still them, same memories, same face, taken right from death and brought back in the future.

Reincarnation however? New relationships, new face, new person, and sometimes the character doesn’t even remember there past life.

So before I wrote my current fic I use to play around with a fic idea that would have been nameless bard centric. The nameless bard or carmen as I call him would have been reborn in Mondstadt about 14-16 years before the Dvalin crisis. (Building relationship with the mond characters wayyy before venti even wakes up)

At first he’d have no recollection of his past life, just feelings and senses of Deja vu.

When his hair started growing out as a little kid he’d braid it in the way that felt right to him (his classic braids) and I had this funny scene in my head where an adult would coo at baby Carmen like “oh! Taking after Barbatos are we?!” And baby Carmen would feel so offended that he’d cut his hair short the following day. Yeah… drama (also when venti does arrive in Mondstadt… so much miscommunication )

Carmen immediately doesn’t trust Barbatos at all! Because seeing Barbatos face feels off, and the idea of a god ruling Mondstadt’ feels off, so being compared to him just makes him the pettiest kid ever.

Also to add spice to Carmen’s wounds I planned that he’d be a ward of the church like rosaria, and be an unwilling devote of Barbatos (rosaria is his role model of rebellion of course!)

Later in the fic he’d start to remember everything! And of course Barbatos just becomes even more suspicious ! Because he’s wearing his past face and for some reason Barbatos has the credit for aiding the rebellion even though Carmen was the leader and definitely doesn’t remember a winged god there.

But Carmen would ignore this in favor of finding out what happened to his family. Beginning the serching of trying to find out what happened to his friend and little brother venti when the stormterror Crisis begins.

I have more silly ideas with this AU, but I haven’t been able to write them since I’m focusing on Windwheel. However I have considered once I finish book one I could write this story (since it’ shouldn’t be too long -) before continues Windwheel but in case I didn’t, I wanted to share the main idea because it’s been in my head for years! I needed to write it somewhere!!!

In case I do ever write the full story in my head I think I’m going to call this non existent fic ‘A second chance at freedom,’ so… I can organize my tumblr tags… I like organizing sue me ;-;

[wanologic]

sorry danny, sam will never think you’re cool

[romanceyourdemons]

so much love for characters who are desperately unsure whether they’re a good person, a redeemable person, a person worth saving, but are absolutely certain that they’re a grade a hottie

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[phaoi]

PHUMPKIN ALERT!! 🎃💀🌈

[musubiki]

my favorite fields of mistria boys 🥰

[skrs-cats]

post oots - bramblestar's storm

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

i redesigned the transformers one cast in the style of transformers animated!

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

Yeah, I don't know about you, Fidds, but I'd fold at this 🙏

Previous!!

Next!!

First!!

[chloesimaginationthings]

Happy 1 year anniversary to FNAF ruin!!

[dorothywonderland]

Is it considered plagiarism if you're copying your own comic?

╮ (. ❛ ᴗ ❛.) ╭

[samble-moved]

post itself

false flags

trans/adjacent tags

accessibility features

tumblr live post (thanks for the link, @problemnyatic)

flashing / strobing / lights

unblockable flashing ad

buying ad free

staff @/macmanx guilt trip

list of staff + more issues

[punkleos]

I had to draw these two sweeties from @kianamaiart ‘s magical girl concept!! This is just an idea I had: I like to imagine them doing each others hair and Aika wants to be good at hair like Zira is, but never has the attention span to do anything complicated. When Aika asks to try helping with Zira’s hair, how could Zira say no to a hangout opportunity that would take hours and hours! Aika thinks Zira’s hair is simply immaculate and she wants to show her appreciation with this act of service. Zira thinks Aika’s hair is so cute and she’d love to have a more adventurous hairstyle like that but she doesn’t wanna draw attention to herself. Maybe they’re binging the Pokémon movies lol

Bonus sketch:

[pokimoko]

I can't keep being fundamentally changed as a person by animated movies, it's just not sustainable.

[lemon-wedges]

Im gonna be honest, i watched The Menu last night and all that been on my mind since then is getting a cheeseburger

[inkskinned]

you're in the habit of denying yourself things.

if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.

but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?

what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.

and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.

you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.

so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.

it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.

sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.

oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.