#andromeda is next

[tempest-ssv]

Cool I got polls now so guess what im doing

(Honorable mention to Steve Cortez, tumblr won’t let me do more than 10 options and it was him or Sam (I still love you Steve))

[nellasbookplanet]

'Enjoy it despite its flaws' is one thing, but Mass Effect somehow invented its own category: 'simultaneously one of the most flawed and the most well-crafted sci-fi stories I've ever experienced'. These games are incredible. They’re the worst. All the women are sexualized. All the women have deeply flawed and complex personalities without being either demonized or romanticized. The first available f/f ship seems to be written along the guidelines of 'what would a straight man find hot'. As the games go on, they effortlessly include multiple same sex romance options given just as much care and development as the the opposite sex ones. You can play as a xenophobic murderhobo asshole. You can play as someone genuinely caring but also harsh, who inspires growth and co-operation wherever you go but who makes hard choices when you have to. You can kill civilians and punch reporters and commit genocide. You can stop a generational war and mediate peace and save several species from extinction. The robots are stereotypically evil cannon fodder. The robots are deeply complex with a tragic history. Your team mates are assholes with xenophobic opinions or justifications for police brutality and genocide, or they just want excuses to Do Murder. You team mates are deeply flawed and can be urged to grow alongside you. The most important aliens are all humanoids. There are plant aliens and jellyfish aliens and insect aliens and elephant aliens and aliens who can’t share an atmosphere with us. You have to drive around countless identically boring planets with little to show for it. You get to discover hidden secrets and civilisations millions of years old and live through some of the most emotionally harrowing scenes in storytelling history. I am going absolutely insane about it.

[deathricedrawn]

i'm ready to try

[canarydraws]

Andromeda 💙💜🩷

[felassan]

✨✨ Happy N7 Day 2024!!! ✨✨

[kainshana]

Forever together...?

[pistachionoodles]

[shrimpalbuspotter]

canon albus personality fic recs please!! i’m literally begging

Um um okok so I technically only really have like 3 and one of them is CC novel version but alas, I will leave them here for you all...

Something Worth Taking the Time

This is the one I mentioned in my last post... the time travel one. Its so good but its not finished BUT but but it has enough content for me to fixate on it for a solid week or 2 now. Albus is a bastard and Snape has grown emotionally attached to both him and Scorpius. Those are his blorbos. He hates them. They are the best things in his life at the moment. Albus in his fullest "I'm a git so nobody who is mean to me is mean to me without reason so I'm not a victim" form.

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child (in novel form)

What it says on the can. Insane how well they characterised the characters thoughts and good god Albus is so perfect I reread my favourite chapters with him like two times everyday. Seriously just read this its perfect.

building up like waves

THEEE SCORBUS FIC EVER. GOOD GOD, I think this was actually the first fic that really got me into Scorbus and its Albus pov and maybe it isn't characterised to upmost perfection but it also is at the same time?? Like we don't get much snarky Albus but the way he thinks and feels is just so... Albus coded. And again its Scorbus so ya know, plus plus.

[edains]

Ashley Williams's Guardian Armory (LE3)

Ashley Williams's Guardian Armory (LE3)

Ashley Consistency Project (MELE3)

Ashley LE1 Complexion for LE3

(template tutorial)

[sk1fanfiction]

blood of the covenant/water of the womb

The Black sisters are so tragic.

I mean, imagine:

As kids, Narcissa is the baby sister that the elder two dote on, while both Narcissa and Andromeda look up to Bellatrix, the proud, beautiful, powerful, accomplished, perfect eldest sister, who has always known who she is and where she's going, but especially Andromeda, since they look so alike she's always been encouraged to act like her too but since Narcissa doesn't have the stereotypical Black looks and her parents didn't follow the Black naming scheme she's encouraged to be her own person a little bit more.

At Hogwarts they're all Sorted into the same House, Slytherin, which only increases their bond. Bella does really well at school, probably the top of her class, which makes Andy, who's only a year or two behind hyperaware of where the bar is. She walks, talks, and dresses like Bella.

Until

Andy follows in Bella's footsteps (who's probably Head Girl by now) and becomes a prefect, but she gets assigned to do rounds with a Muggle-born Hufflepuff. And despite everything she'd been taught, everything she knows to be true, she finds herself falling for him and the worst part is she can't tell anyone, even Bella, the one she has always been able to confide in, always reassured her and set her on the right path.

Meanwhile Druella and Cygnus are arranging Bellatrix's marriage to Roldophus, someone she doesn't even like never mind attracted to but because she's the perfect Black and the perfect daughter she has to do it. And Andromeda sees and fears how she could get trapped, too, how there's another Lestrange boy in her year.

Meanwhile a strange foreign Dark Lord comes to dinner and he's so different to Roldophus and all those other men who think because she's a woman she must be weak and she's just a vessel for their pureblood children. And despite the way she shouldn't feel this way, Bella doesn't care. He listens to Bella's opinions and he takes her seriously and he sees her magical talent and her thirst to prove herself and he's not scared of her in the way others say that she's 'too intense.' And when he offers to train her, and adds that he never does this, she says, one better, I'll follow you.

Andromeda and Narcissa watch this strange man burn the Dark Mark into their sister's arm and they don't know what to think. Narcissa's scared Bella will put herself in danger, that she'll do too much, give too much of herself because she doesn't know when to pull back. And Andy's scared Bella's going down a path she cannot follow, because deep down she can't say she believes in blood supremacy, can't say she hates Ted and she can't figure out a way through so she leaves.

It's like part of Bella's heart has been ripped out. They were all close, the Blacks, but Andy and Bella had a certain je ne sais quoi, they were thick as thieves and inseparable. Bellatrix is the one who burns Andromeda off the tapestry, crying while she does it, the scorned love for her sister, the anger and shame that Andy chose that Mudblood over her turning that love to bottomless hate.

Meanwhile Narcissa, the lucky one, watches it all. Narcissa is the one that gets it all, she's the only one who's able to marry for love and stay with her family but there's also this Andromeda-shaped hole in her and there's a Slytherin resentfulness of being Bellatrix's supporting act.

Every night that Bella is on a mission, Narcissa stays up, even while pregnant with Draco, until she knows her sister is safe.

That fateful Halloween she waits and waits and waits but Bellatrix never comes home. When she finds out her last remaining sister is serving life she completely breaks down. Won't sleep, won't eat. The thought of leaving Draco without a mother is the only thing that helps her hold on. Regulus, Andromeda and Sirius are dead/burned off the tapestry/imprisoned; she and Draco are the last Blacks, that makes their bond even stronger, makes her scared of losing him like she did her sisters. She curses Voldemort for putting her in danger, aware of her feelings for him and that Bella would do anything for them, swears she'll never let that happen to her son.

All the while Andy raises her daughter, who hates the name she gave her in the same way Andy know she would hate the Blacks. Narcissa and Andy watch each other from across crowds; Tonks and Draco are never at school together, never know more than scattered off-hand mentions of a cousin on their mother's side. But both Narcissa and Andy fantasize of a reconcilation, of Tonks babysitting Draco while they rekindle their bond. Neither bridges the gap. That burn, that rift cannot be healed. But they still ache for each other.

When Voldemort returns that fear for Draco grows, but it's tempered with the joy of having Bella back after mourning her for 14 years -- Bella, traumatized, starved, jagged and torn up at the edges, different, but alive.

And just like knowing he was innocent kept Sirius sane, Bella's love and trust of Voldemort is what made her able to hang on. Yes, they're both drastically different physically (the snake face and the emaciation) and mentally (both shaken, less confident), but everything else can be the same. Maybe better.

But everyone is scared. It's not the same world, where the Death Eaters have control and are undefeated. Voldemort is scared of that boy, Narcissa is scared for Draco. It's clear things are not the same, things are not normal. Far from it. Fear makes Voldemort angry, and cold, and distant and nothing she does feels good enough.

And that boy -- lying hateful filthy boy -- he dares suggest that her Voldemort's filthy-blooded like him. No, he must just be taunting her, scaring her. But there are things Voldemort's said, things he's done -- she would notice, the way she hangs on every word he speaks and plays their conversations in her head over and over again in Azkaban -- Bellatrix just does her best to silence it and block it out, all these confusing things, she's a great Occlumens after all.

She'll make things certain, make things right, trim off the weakness, cut out the sickness. Like Sirius. Like that young woman with Andromeda's face and Andromeda's laugh, that filthy half-blood Andy left her to create.

Narcissa can't keep Draco safe like she, the baby sister, couldn't keep Bellatrix safe. When Voldemort burns the Dark Mark into his skin she sees her son emaciated and dead-eyed.

To assuage Narcissa's fears Bellatrix trains Draco like Voldemort trained her; but he's not the same, he's weak, he's moralistic, he looks at her with wide scared eyes and he's a failure. The glory of the Blacks is gone.

All the while, Narcissa's fear grows, when Lucius is imprisoned, when Voldemort's ire turns on her family, on her son, sets him an impossible task. The despair she feels, she hasn't felt for nearly sixteen years -- Bellatrix more interested in eking out morsels of approval from Voldemort and turning her frustration on Draco, and Narcissa by extension.

All the while, Andromeda's fear for her daughter grows, of the danger she puts herself in as an Auror and a member of the Order, and she's reminded of Bellatrix, of how she gives everything of herself and how Nymphadora does too, begging, begging her to hold back.

She's not good enough for him, not with the sickness, the weakness still clinging to her. Bellatrix very much wants to kill the woman with Andy's face. She's always been perfect. It's everyone else around her that's wrong, everyone else who has to go. She'll do better. Try harder.

And when the Snatchers catch that filthy boy, and he slides out of her grasp like a buttered eel, Bellatrix hits the bottom rung of the ladder of despair. She doesn't know who she is, anymore.

Voldemort's retaliation and rejection breaks Bellatrix's heart, but it hardens Narcissa's.

Bellatrix will do anything to make him happy. She finally kills the witch with Andy's face -- do you see -- do you love me now -- but he's still cold, still frightened, still different, and she despairs, but it will be all over when Harry Potter is dead and he can breathe again. They've won. It will be alright. It will go back to normal. She can have it all again -- Voldemort and Narcissa and her perfect, pruned family.

Narcissa will do anything to keep him safe. And so she chooses Draco's life, she lies, her heart in her throat, in front of her beloved sister, to the Dark Lord, with unshed tears in her eyes and Harry Potter's 'corpse' before her.

Bellatrix's death is something Narcissa knew was coming, deep down She mourned her sister sixteen years ago and she mourns her now, but it will all be worth it if Draco survives this ordeal; Potter must win, he must live, Voldemort must die. And Bellatrix will never allow this.

She wishes she could tell Andy that she understands.

[nemomo]

the bronze fellas again !

[Image ID: A digital art lineup of all saint seiya bronze saints, in different standing up poses, on a light yellow background: from left to right, shiryu, seiya, ikki, hyoga and shun. /End ID.)

[moutainrusing]

metamorphmagus

They (or he or she) were born to Remus and Nymphadora Lupin (better known as Tonks). They were born as Edward Remus Lupin, because when they were born, they had a boy’s body, except could they really be considered a boy when their body could shift between sexes?

Regardless, they were always referred to as ‘Teddy,’ and they quite liked that name, because people said it with such love and affection, and, not to be a complete sap, but sue them for internally beaming at it. Honestly, they couldn’t care less if their given name was typically used for boys, because names were names, and guess what? They could be used for any person on the planet. Of course, Teddy understood that some people preferred to change their names, but Teddy didn’t, and that was also fine.

Additionally, Edward was the name of their late grandfather, who died at the hands of Snatchers during the hunts for Muggle-borns. Their grandfather had been brave, and kind, and loyal, constantly choosing to trust and believe the people he loved. So yeah, Teddy was proud to bear his name. And their middle name?

Well, Teddy was beyond proud to bear the name of their late father. A werewolf who proved all the negative stereotypes wrong. He fought for justice, with his calm, generally easy-going temperance, and he cared deeply for all those surrounding him. Life had dealt their father incredibly shitty cards, yet Remus had remained brave, strong, and determined.

Teddy Remus Lupin wouldn’t change their name for the world. (Although honestly, ‘Remus’ sounded kinda gender-neutral, like it could be used for girls too. They wondered what their father would think of that. Would he be mad?)

They really wanted to know more about their parents. They knew a lot about their mother, Nymphadora ‘don’t call me that!’ Tonks from her mother, Andromeda Tonks, their grandmother and the widowed wife of Edward Tonks. But they didn’t know much about Remus. And, they didn’t even know if their parents would accept them for being… whatever they were. Not a boy, not a girl, but sometimes a boy and sometimes a girl. Shit.

And Andromeda Tonks was one of those no-nonsense women, someone you could tell had been born into a well-to-do, upper-class family. She exuded luxury and elegance, and who knew what she would say? But then again, she had been disowned by that family, forced to live a humbler life with her Muggle-born husband because she’d betrayed the purebloods’ standards. So maybe she’d be accepting.

If they were disowned, they could always run off to their godfather Harry’s house. Sometimes, when Andromeda was being too strict, they did it anyway. Harry was the type of person who had too much of his own shit to really care about anyone else’s. He was chill about everything, because he was stressed about everything. A paradox.

With this in mind, they decided to tell their grandmother.

“Hi,” they stepped into the living room, where she was sitting on the sofa with her evening cup of coffee.

“Hello,” she emphasised, and Teddy snorted. She was always trying to instil formality into every conversation, even ones between friends.

“Hello, grandmother,” they decided to be respectful, which was worth it, seeing their grandmother smile.

“Hello, my Teddy. Come, sit,” she patted the space beside her. Teddy grinned and flopped down on the sofa, ignoring her tutting.

Before she could further try to instil manners into them, they quickly turned to face her and blurted, “I want to tell you something.”

She hummed, motioned for them to continue.

“I— So, do you remember how I was a child?”

She gave them a flat look. “I couldn’t forget even if I wanted to.”

They laughed. “But you don’t want to, so it’s all good.”

She smiled, “Where are you going with this?”

“Uh, yes, so when I was a kid, do you remember how sometimes I would use my Metamorphmagus abilities to change my features to look more like a girl? Like, I’d give myself really long hair, and tie it in braids and all sorts of pretty hairstyles.” They elaborately gestured to their hair thanks to the anxious fidgeting their hands were doing, and their body also seemed pretty agitated, because their hair went ahead and whizzed through a bunch of crazy hairstyles.

Their grandmother eyed the movement with a small smirk. “Of course. You were beautiful. And I was honoured, really, because you’d copy my hairstyles. I’m simply inspirational.”

Teddy laughed. Then they awkwardly added, “But, uh, sometimes I’d prefer to look really masculine?”

Their grandmother made a face. “Can’t see the appeal. But you do you.”

“So… sometimes I’d wear dresses and skirts?”

“You still do, love. If you’re asking for permission to steal my clothes, you’re a bit late.”

“And heels.”

“Honestly, you really don’t need to be taller, you inherited your father’s height. He was one lanky man, that Remus.”

“What… what would he think about my clothing choices?”

“He wouldn’t bat an eye. In fact, his old boyfriend used to dress a bit like you.”

Teddy’s eyes almost popped out of their brain. “What?! Boyfriend?!”

Their grandmother turned to face them, softening her gaze. “Teddy, what did you want to tell me?”

“I’m— I’m genderfluid.”

She grinned triumphantly. “I knew it. Metamorphmagi my arse, you’re just a bunch of non-binary mages.”

“What?”

“Your mother — even though she called herself your mother and went by she/her pronouns — was also genderfluid.”

Teddy blinked at her. She smiled, and continued, “There was a reason she didn’t like being called ‘Nymphadora.’ I didn’t understand it, at first, because I believed it was an elegant, classy name. I thought she was simply being rebellious, and I’ve had much experience with rebels. We’ll come to that later. But soon I realised that it was because it didn’t suit her. She wasn’t Nymphadora, she was Tonks, or Dora, a name she only approved of if it was spoken to her with affection to make her feel loved. Nymphadora had no meaning to her, didn’t represent her.”

“I— Oh. I… like being called Teddy.”

“I know. With you, I realised much sooner. You’re so much like her, my Teddy,” she stroked their hair fondly.

“How?” They leaned eagerly into her palm.

“The way you use your abilities to change your appearance to your comfort each day. Sometimes she’d swagger in with stubble on her chin, and make me burst out laughing, ‘cause she looked so much like her father. Or sometimes she’d be curvy and soft, and wear my old gowns with joy in her step. But either way, she was always beautiful. Like you.”

“So she would accept me then?”

“You don’t need to be accepted for being yourself, Teddy. But yes. She would be so proud of you.”

“What about Muggles who feel the way I do? They can’t just… change their body however they like. How do they… cope with it? How do they feel being stuck, even though sometimes they feel like they’re not supposed to have the features they’re stuck with, or that they want to behave in ways that don’t conform…?”

Their grandmother frowned. “As best they can, probably. Do you… want to support them or something?”

“Can I?”

“Well, clearly you know how it feels.”

“I don’t, I think it’s a different experience for everyone.”

“And there you go. You’re already open-minded and willing to listen to a whole range of standpoints. Of course you’d be good at supporting people.”

Teddy pinched their eyebrows together. “So… we just listen?”

“Yes. We listen, and let people feel the way that they want.”

“You’re good at this.”

Softly, she confessed, “They were your mother’s words. I’m glad she can still bring us comfort, even from the other side.”

Teddy snuggled into her arms. “I wish I knew her.”

“I bet she wishes she knew you too. But all we can do is be happy with the people who do know us.”

“Okay. But… what would my father say?”

Their grandmother burst out laughing. “Oh, that’s a long tale.”

They gave her a horrified expression, but she waved a hand, “He’d be proud of you too.”

“Okay, but what’s the tale? And you said he had a boyfriend?”

“Mhm,” she hummed happily. “My cousin, Sirius Black. Remember how I’ve much experience with rebels? Well, Sirius was the biggest rebel I knew. All I did was fall in love with one Muggle-born when I was seventeen. But Sirius? He was arguing with the whole family from the moment he could speak. At first, I think he only did it to be rebellious. But then he started to believe it. He defied the family’s views; ranted about Muggle rights. And yeah, he’d dress to defy stereotypes, maybe to piss people off, but also because it made him comfortable. He genuinely liked makeup and skirts, but he also liked leather jackets and boots. He just proved that boys could like and do whatever they wanted. And he fell in love with a half-blood werewolf, his best friend, and your father.”

“Woah. Woah. Did he get along with you? And did dad love him back? And how did dad marry mum?”

“Urgh, told you this was a long story. Honestly, I don’t know where to start. The closest person in my old ex-family I had was Sirius, yes. I used to try to keep him in line, he would outright disobey, and I shared his opinions, but I was better at hiding it. Then I went and eloped and got disowned, and I sent an owl to him at Hogwarts. And after a couple years, maybe in his fifth year, he told me how sickeningly in love he was with his werewolf best mate, Remus Lupin. And I think in his seventh year, they finally confessed they were soppily enamoured and got to dating. I think your father was opposed to the idea at first, but he came around to it.”

“Why was he opposed?”

“Multiple reasons. He was a werewolf, already facing stigma for something he couldn’t help. He couldn’t love a boy on top of that, because the stigma would only multiply. He also didn’t want to burden Sirius, keep him stuck with a werewolf, and stuck with another boy.”

“So he’d give everything up just for Sirius to be… what, unburdened?”

“Yeah. He really did love Sirius in that all-consuming, self-sacrificing way.”

“Wow. He was good at self-restraint, then. How did he marry mum if he was so in love with Sirius?”

“Sirius died.”

“Oh. Was dad okay?”

“Not really. But Dora picked him up again. Your mother. She— she looked after him and forced him to accept care from another human, pestered him out of his self-loathing spirals and whatnot. And then she fell in love with him. Remus was the type of man to say he was very unloveable, yet so many people loved him simply for existing.”

“Did he… love her back?”

“Yes, or I wouldn’t have allowed their marriage.”

“How did he love her? As much as he loved Sirius?”

“No. You can’t hold a candle to the love Sirius and Remus shared. They loved each other like two galaxies on a collision path. But Remus did love Dora, and he always put her first, and there was a war on, so I thought, why shouldn’t they co-exist in their small pocket of happiness? They made each other happy, and they loved each other like friends and spouses. It was good, and it was still everything.”

“His… I’m glad he had love. Because his life sounds so sad.”

“If you asked him,” his grandmother thought for a moment, “I think he’d say he was the luckiest man alive. That’s how much he felt loved.”

“I’m happy I have his middle name.”

“Not too manly for you?”

“Uh— about that. Do you think he’d be offended if I said his name is slightly not-manly?”

Their grandmother roared. “Oh, his fragile fifteen-year-old masculinity would be punching walls! But as an adult, I don’t think he could give a flying fuck, Teddy. I think Sirius and Dora taught him a few things about gender. That no one else decides your gender, only you. And Remus would love to know you share that ideology, because he thought it was inspirational. Like how Dora pestered him, he pestered her to start writing books and making quotes. He was adorable about it.”

“Then I’ll spread the message for them. For me. And for the people like me,” Teddy replied, with a determined nod of their head.

[here-for-a-good-time-hopefully]

I honestly have so much respect for Andromeda it’s insane

Because I don’t think I could keep living if most of my family was dead and my daughter and husband both died fighting in a war they have no business being in

And then having to survive to raise your grandchild alone because the only other parental figure in his life is an 18 year old kid who just came back from the dead and clearly has unprocessed trauma

[curemoonlightsworld]

[felassan]

[source]