#very interesting to write >:3

[valleynix]

Summary:

It wasn't the brightest idea you've had, you suppose, to follow the strange words of the peasants in that village. You didn't understand them, but in your desperation to find your lost brother, you weren't thinking clearly. He had always been there for you, and wasn't it about time you repaid him?

It was never going to be that easy. The tall, terrifying woman in that dark castle was going to make your life a living hell.

*the angsty gay thoughts fic has been posted :3

[ikeasharksss]

hey im curious

feel free to rb & explain your answer in the tags!

[rondoel]

Looked into my folder and there was so much of them! 😭

[baldursgate3tempobsessed]

K follow me Astarion just sees tav like loving on children wherever they go and hes like?????

And tavs like ive always wanted my own child but i didn't wabt to ask you with every

This sends poor starion into a crisis does he was children how many

I think I have followed you. Let's see!

So for this one we got a lil time jump, ambiguous and vague setting and timelines with game spoilers present. M/F pairing because that is my go to and pregnancy is mentioned. Vampiric pregnancy also so there is some weirdness there (i made it up no idea if it's dnd accurate). Vague Tav backstory of a wonderful mother and going off to become a cleric.

~

Astarion was well used to your antics by this point. You had a severe lack of instincts linked to self-preservation, which led to a consistent pattern of doing, frankly, stupid shit. Stupid, but kind. Nothing that Astarion hadn't adapted to, after nearly two years of being attached at the hip you became pretty attuned to your lover's personality.

He could even go as far as to say that he had grown to love your annoying predilection for pious morality. Perhaps he loved talking you out of certain virtuous dangers more, but still. He appreciated who you were, he adored who you were. But Astarion was no saint, despite his insistence on attaching himself to one.

Which is exactly why he was far from amused when you signed him up to babysit a couple of brats. All for acquittances he barely cared about.

But you at least had the good grace to look guilty, "I didn't mean to! But she looked so tired and she said their anniversary was coming up and it's not like we got anything for their wedding-"

That was a nice try, one that Astarion wasn't falling for, "We didn't know of their existence when they got married darling. Just because I can't remember their names doesn't mean you can trick me."

"I'm not trying to trick you!" You whined, arms crossed as you pouted. It sure felt like a trick, especially when Astarion knew that you were well-aware how easily he fell for your sulking. Adorable little monster that you were, "It's only three kids and a baby for one night, it won't be that bad! You don't even have to help-"

Astarion rolled his eyes as he sat next to you on the bed, "I didn't say I wouldn't help."

That seemed to do the trick to get the pout off of your face. You perked up immediately, looking at him like you couldn't quite believe it, "Really?"

"Yes, really," Astarion sighed as you tugged you closer. Sure he liked to bitch, but he really would do anything for you. Even extremely annoying things like this, "I'm not going to sit back and feed you to the wolves."

"They're not wolves! The oldest is barely five," You laughed as you let him manhandle you, settling you into his lap, "And I am sorry, I really wasn't thinking. I promise it won't happen again."

Astarion doubted that, not when he was well-versed of your weak spot for children. No matter where you went you couldn't help but fawn over them, not to mention the insane lengths you would go to keep any child safe. It was a complete and utter blind spot, your kindness extending to them all, even the little scam artists and hellions.

It was sweet, if not extremely worrying at first. Astarion had been terrified of you finding out his past. The things that he had been forced to do, the innocents whose lives he had destroyed. But not only did you find out, you were forced to see it. Both of you were, and it had been worse than anything Astarion could have imagined. He had always found a slight comfort knowing that those he captured would at least die quickly, that at the very least they wouldn't suffer the same agonizing fate as he, just an agonizing death. But no, even that small comfort had been a lie. The horror of finding them all down there has yet to be matched. He had never felt more self-loathing, more pure disgust than the moment he had found those children, tortured and pale, all because of him.

How you didn't see him for the wretched thing he was after all that, Astarion wasn't sure. But he was grateful. You were too good for him. A fact that he was devastatingly aware of, but that wasn't going to stop him from keeping you.

He still thinks about it on occasion, despite the fact that he had done all he could to right his wrongs. They all at least had a chance now to have a life worth living, Astarion could only hope that it would be used. Their future was out of his hands now, a small comfort.

But despite his complicated feelings towards children, he was more than capable of handling them for one evening. And in all honesty, he truly didn't have to do much. He was on self-mandated baby duty, because of course you had to help out the infant that would scream bloody murder unless it was being held. Keeping her tucked against him was a move of self-preservation, if he ever wanted to retain his hearing.

Most of the night was spent amused as he watched you entertain a gaggle of toddlers. You were so... creative with the ways you could defuse their antics. It came to you so naturally, nearly like you were a born mother yourself. It wasn't exactly surprising that you were fantastic with children, he had seen it time and time again. Arabella, Mol, Yenna, all of which still wrote you letters, visited occasionally. Staying forever attached, even from a distance.

Now that Astarion thought about it, it was odd that you weren't a mother. Odder still that you hadn't never even brought up the possibility of having children together. You were usually so open with your wants and always encouraging the same from him. Just one more thing he loved about you. But... why hadn't it been mentioned? Astarion had always assumed it was because you didn't truly want any of your own, that you enjoyed their fun innocence while avoiding the more laborious responsibility of raising them.

Though watching you take care of them all, changing diapers and negotiating silly arguments with a soft smile of your face had him rethinking his assumption.

"You're good with them," Astarion said eventually after you had successfully set the older three down for the night, the baby still stubbornly clinging to him, "I don't think there's a child we've met that doesn't adore you."

You laughed quietly, walking over to kiss him softly on the cheek. Your eyes wandered to the sleeping infant in his arms, still holding a piece of his shirt in it's little fist, "You don't seem to be too bad with them either."

"Newborns don't know any better," Astarion dismissed as he tried to put her down in their borrowed crib. Tried and failed, considering how the thing immediately started to whine the second he attempted to pry it's little hand away.

Oh for fuck's sake. Astarion wasn't even going to try and argue. Instead he unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall into the crib with her, seemingly doing the trick of stopping her from waking completely.

When he turned back you were staring at him with soft eyes, looking lovestruck at the simple act of him laying a child down, "Looks like she has pretty good taste to me."

"I don't think your judgment should be trusted," Astarion huffed as he walked over to you, grabbing your hand to drag you to the bedroom. He glanced back at you, his heart nearly skipping a beat from the sweet way you kept looking at him. It had his mind wandering again, those questions still nagging him.

Questions that he didn't have the courage to ask until dead of night, when he had you half asleep against his bare chest, "Have you ever thought of having children?"

He hadn't meant to blurt that out in the middle of the night, but Astarion apparently had a knack for starting important conversations at inconvenient times. Not that you minded.

You just cuddled into him closer, nodding against him with a sigh, "I've always wanted my own children. My own mother, Gods bless her soul, made it all sound so magical. Pregnancy, the early years, puberty, all of it. She loved it all. And I guess it rubbed off on me. It used to be all I could think about, before real life got in the way."

Astarion listened, a little annoyed at himself for not putting the pieces together sooner. You had talked so lovingly about your late parents, how you always wanted to be like your mother. Of course you would want children. How had he not connected the dots?

"But then I went off to the temple," You continued, "I completed my training, went off into the world to do good, blah, blah, blah. You know the story."

"So you grew out of the idea?" Astarion asked.

"Not exactly," You admitted, sounding a little guilty, "But I would never ask that of you love, it's not something you have to worry about."

That-what?

Astarion stared down at you, brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"I mean I know that the topic of children is... difficult for you. Considering everything you've been through-"

"I think you mean to say everything I've inflicted on others," Astarion interrupted, unwilling to allow himself grace. Especially when it came to the children of the Gur, "It was much worse for them than me."

You nodded, knowing better than to try and fight him on that particular topic, "I understand, but my point is that I can live without them. You're all I need."

It was comforting to hear, an immediate balm to a brand new set of insecurities that Astarion hadn't been prepared for. But even so... he hated the idea of you sacrificing even more for him. It felt wrong, "But-"

"But nothing," You interrupted softly, setting a quick kiss to his mouth, I'm serious Astarion, you don't need to worry. I'm happy, I love you, and everything is fine."

"I love you too," Astarion murmured, at a loss to say anything else. But the conversation didn't end there.

Astarion couldn't stop thinking about it, even long after the temporary children were sent back home. ou seemed so... sure that he didn't want children, and a week ago he probably would have agreed. But that was back before he knew that he was actively keeping you away from something you wanted. Something you had dreamed about since you were a child. And it felt wrong to be the reason for that, so, so wrong.

He didn't even know if his true feelings on the matter were real. He didn't want children for many of the same reasons he never wanted a partner. The attachment to another was dangerous, he was beyond unequipped to deal with others, let alone care for them, and the entire ideology behind love was ripe for manipulation and heart break. But then he met you and everything changed. Suddenly, caring for another didn't feel like a weakness, it felt like the strongest aspect of his entire self. Taking care of you wasn't an unwanted duty, it was intimacy. Something that he now craved. If all of those steadfast ideals could fall apart simply through meeting you, whose to say he could even trust himself when it came the thoughts around having a child?

Would having one truly be so bad? A little piece of the two of you, alive in the world? And perhaps children were annoying but... Astarion would be lying if he said he didn't have a soft spot for them. He had kept his distance before, but now he was fully confident that he wasn't a danger, no with Cazador burned to nothing bus ash and his own bloodlust well controlled. And it's not as if he was incapable of being a father, worse men than him did it everyday.

It was a confusing place to be, this tightwire of indecisiveness. Confusing enough for him to start a bit of research. He was vaguely aware that it was possible for his kind to breed, but finding out the details was disheartening, to say the least. First he had to parse out the different horror stories of babes eating their way out of their mother's wombs with actual facts, which wasn't exactly pleasant. But the truth was that it was more than possible for the two of you to have child together. It had the potential to either be as noneventful as any pregnancy, with the cavate that the babe coming out looking slightly... dead wouldn't be a permanent state of being. Or it could be as risky as carrying a child could be, with pains and complications galore, even legitimate worries of internal bleeding from the wretched thing prematurely growing claws. Not to mention the occasional, intense blood lust that could occur, an experience that Astarion would prefer you didn't have to go to.

Looking into the reality of the choice didn't help as much as he had assumed it would. If anything it just made the whole situation more real. Even if he wasn't a vampiric spawn, childbirth was risky. Maybe not as risky for you considering how Astarion would move the heavens and hells to get you the best care possible, but still. The thought of you passing, leaving him alone with the child you wanted and would never see, would destroy him. Completely and utterly.

But then again... there was the magical alternative of everything working out just fine. The two of you were both beyond lucky in that regard, considering how you'd overcome mind flayer parasites and fought and won against a near god. It was more than possible that everything would be fine, that you would have a beautiful pregnancy that would end in an even more amazing child. Then two would become three, a family of his very own.

That... didn't sound too bad. Astarion was torn. On one hand, he was almost certain that he was willing to go through with it. Not just because he loved you and wanted you to be happy, though it was the main reason. But also because... he could be a part in making something good. A child that would never suffer the way he did, the way countless others had. One who would be loved, who would have the help they needed for their inevitable unholy hungers. Someone precious for the two of you to fret over, to adore and care for. He... wanted that. Or at least he would if you still did. Now if he could just figure out how to bring it up, maybe something could actually happen.

But luckily enough for him, you did the job for him. He had been pouring over another book dedicated to recording the births of Dhampirs in the area, only to be distracted by you loudly sighing behind him.

"What's wrong love?" Astarion asked, his eyes still scanning the page in front of him.

"Oh I don't know," You sighed, rounding the corner to sit on the edge of his desk, "I just can't help but wonder when you're going to explain why you've suddenly become obsessed with parenting books. And..."

You trailed off, ignoring his surprised expression to read the cover of what was in front of him, "'Vampiric and Mortal Love & The Spawn They Create'. It's not exactly your usual reading material."

Part of Astarion wanted to be surprised that you had already figured him out. He had at least been trying to hide things from you slightly, not that it mattered when you could read him like a book. And he supposed that blatantly reading things like this in front of you would eventually have an effect, even if he tried to obscure the titles.

But that didn't stop him from stuttering through a response, "Well-I, okay. I've just been thinking about options lately. Which you can't really do if you don't understand what they are. Hence the books."

You frowned at him, one leg crossed over the other, "Star, I already told you that you don't need to worry-"

"But I want to worry," Astarion interrupted, deciding that ripping the band-aid off would be the best course of action, "And if there is something I can be doing to make you happier than I should at least consider it."

"I'm not going to force you into this for that," You said softly, reaching out to twine his fingers against yours, "This isn't the kind of thing you do just for someone else."

Astarion was aware of that, there was an important truth to your words. But... "What if it wasn't just for you?"

You paused, your brow furrowed as you stared at him, "What do you mean?"

"I mean what if, and consider this purely hypothetical, what if I wanted one as well. What then?" It was as far from hypothetical as Astarion could get, but by the look on your face it didn't seemed like that needed to be clarified.

You swallowed, looking just shy of hopeful as you played with his hand, "I... well. I guess in that case we would have a lot to talk about."

That wasn't quite the answer he was looking for. He pressed on, "So if in theory, I did want one. Would... you still be interested in having one?"

With me?

He left that part unsaid as he waited for an answer, uncharacteristically nervous as you mulled it over. But you were smiling, bright and wide, giving his hand a little squeeze as you spoke, "I think that would be the only scenario where I would want it. If that's something you wanted."

"I think it is," Astarion answered honestly, done with being coy, "I don't know how, I... I'm not quite sure how I feel about you carrying something that could be dangerous. But... in general yes. I think I want this. I do want this. With you and only you. Whenever your ready."

The next part Astarion did see coming, his arms already open by the time you launched yourself at him. You straddled his lap, kissing every part of his face as you babbled, "We can wait! It doesn't need to be now but-I just-yes! Adoption, childbirth, I don't care. All I need is to have them with you. That's all I want."

"And that I can give," Astarion laughed, delighted at your reaction. He still had concerns, plenty of them in fact, but they were hard to consider when the woman he adored was so ecstatic.

He gripped your chin, chuckling at the whine you let out for him interrupting your onslaught of affection. You didn't have to wait long, not when he directed your mouth against his, kissing you deeply as a new wave of exciting, and slightly nauseating feelings worked through him.

He didn't know exactly what was going to happen in the future. He had no idea if he would be a good father, but he knew that he would try his damndest. He didn't know how the two of you would even procure a child, but he did no one thing.

With you by his side, it would work out. All of it, no matter how hard the road turned out to be. And that was all that mattered.

[edwinisms]

on my third rewatch and just got through ep 3 and man. the devlin house is such a strong fucking episode. like quality-wise. acting-wise. plot-wise. etc. that’s not to say the first two episodes weren’t strong, but the devlin house hits noticeably harder and hits different. like it’s the precise turning point episode where you realize oh. this show isn’t just gonna be campy with a dash of angst. we’re addressing some serious heavy ass trauma. and not just magical unreal trauma either like. just straight up abuse. and the boy who’s been unserious and silly this whole time isn’t just like that for shallow comic relief reasons. there is so much more there lurking under the surface. oh man it’s good

[aquaquadrant]

Title: flickering

Warnings: Hearing voices similar to intrusive thoughts (the voices are from sentient fire, not from the character’s own mind), pyromania, session 3 spoilers

~*~

Tango might be hearing things.

That is, beyond what the rest of his friends have already been joking about this entire session. The secret task bestowed upon him seemed like pure hilarity at first: pretend to have an imaginary friend. And he had to go all out, too, having imaginary conversations in the presence of other people. He wasn’t confident enough in his improv skills to pull it off without some kind of prop, though, so he’d assigned the role of imaginary friend to a torch in his inventory.

Torchy, a new best friend for the resident blaze hybrid on the server. Hilarious.

Except, as the hours went on… carrying Torchy around and randomly placing it down… hosting one-sided conversations with a piece of burning wood while his friends watched on with baffled amusement… it started to get a little less hilarious. Because he started to imagine that he could actually hear Torchy talking back to him.

Looks bad. Burn it. Kill him.

Just pleasant little things like that. It made for great conversation fodder; nothing turned heads on this server faster than a randomly overheard, “No, no, we can’t kill him!” And it was funny to carry on that kind of dialogue, chastising a flaming stick for its apparent bloodlust. The looks on his friends’ faces were priceless.

But at the end of the session, after Tango had been found out and failed his task, after everyone bid their farewells and went their separate ways to end the session… he hears it again; a flickering whisper of a voice in his ears.

Burn it.

It startles Tango so badly, his blaze rods ignite. “Aaagh- who? What?!” He spins around, flames spitting.

“Huh?” Skizz pokes his head up from behind their little clump of chests, his wing flared out in surprise. “What happened?”

Tango clutches his pounding heart. “Did you- did you say something, Skizz?” he asks breathlessly.

“What, just now? No?” Skizz frowns, then his eyes widen. “Oh, wait, I get it…” He chuckles. “Very funny dude, but uh, you can drop the ‘imaginary friend’ thing now.”

Burn him. Kill him.

There it is again. “No, I’m not…” Tango hesitates, glancing around warily. “You seriously can’t hear that?”

Join us. Burn it. Eat it all.

Now Skizz looks a little concerned, rising to his feet. “Uh- no? What?” He takes a few steps towards Tango, holding out a hand. “You okay, buddy?”

Tango rakes his claws through his hair. “Th- the whispering, the…” Swallowing, he creeps a bit closer to Skizz- and as he does so, he happens to move closer to a random torch. The voice gets louder.

Free us. Join us. Let it all burn.

There’s a chunk of solid ice in Tango’s stomach. “I think it’s coming from the torches,” he whispers.

Skizz stares at him for a moment before he sighs bemusedly, shaking his head. “Oh, brother. You’ve been talking to yourself all session, dude, I think you’re starting to hear things.” He claps a hand on Tango’s shoulder. “Get some rest, buddy, and I’ll see you back here next week, alright?”

Skizz doesn’t hear it. Tango makes himself laugh. “Right, yeah. You’re right. See ya.”

With a parting smile, Skizz logs off.

Tango waits. Soon enough, the voice returns. The whispering is now a chant, a dull roar echoing in his skull.

He’s gone. Burn it. Burn it all. Sets us free, let us spread. Join us. Burn it. Eat it all.

Tango’s heart is in his throat. He can see it, in his mind’s eye; the soft pink cherry blossoms engulfed in flame, a ring of smoke outlining the entire island… his inner fire thrums with want, with need.

Yes, yes, burn it all…

The smell of burning snaps him out of his trance. His clawed fingertips are pinching a cherry blossom from a low-hanging branch, a trail of smoke rising between them. Wait, when did he walk over to the tree? Quickly plucking the flower, he incinerates it in his clenched fist, the flame extinguished as soon as it’d ignited.

And now he’s got a handful of ash. Great.

Okay, that’s it- he’s gotta get off this crazy server. It’s all these stupid tasks! They’re totally messing with his head. The secrecy, the deception, the mind games- he just needs a break. He needs to go back to something familiar, some place where things make sense.

Tapping his communicator, he brings up a portal.

Tango steps through it into Hermitcraft, into blue flames and his dungeon master’s robes. He blinks, acclimating to the change of light. He’s in the underbelly of Decked Out 2, of course- most of his time this week has been spent working on the redstone for level four. And over the months, he’s taken care to light everything up (because a single creeper in the skadoodler could derail his entire operation here) so there are torches everywhere…

And he hears nothing.

Just the idle sounds of the dungeon above him. The occasional warden sniff or ravager growl, bats squeaking in the dark. A slime slapping against stone somewhere in the distance. He can even hear the ambient flickering of the countless torches around him, but no freaky voices accompany it.

Tango exhales heavily. It was just the Secret Life server messing with his head, after all. Relieved, he ignites a rocket to take off, whirling through the air in the tight hair-pin turns required to escape from the dungeon’s inner workings. He swoops into his storage room and dives into the bubble-vator, arriving swiftly back in the citadel.

Hopping off the platform and into the air, Tango glides toward his private entrance to the lobby. He needs to go cover up the barrel at the start so he can make a couple changes to the dungeon. Nothing major, maybe just an extra warden or two. Ideas for names are already flashing through his mind. Debating whether to go intimidating or silly, he’s so deep in thought as he passes through the lobby that he almost doesn’t notice it at first. But as he walks past the soul flames, he hears it.

The flicker of a familiar voice- though more haunting, now, almost mournful- whispering in his ears.

Join us. Burn them. Eat them all.

~*~

[icewindandboringhorror]

I know this is just a silly bad quality random screencap of a screencap that I found on facebook lol, BUT it's a succinct enough image to easily describe the concept in a quick/accessible way hopefully :

-

(and of course, feel free to elaborate in tags, etc.! (especially elaborating about other senses as well.. can you "hear" in your mind just as well as you can "see"? taste? etc.) It's an interesting topic to me, as someone who's like a 4.5 at MOST lol. I'm curious what option will be the most common :0c )

[audliminal]

It's Just a game, Right? Pt 7

Masterpost

It's just a game, right?

Tim turns his head at the soft their of a grappling hook, and a moment later Steph has joined him on the roof of the building.

"Not much happening tonight, huh?"

"Yeah, I guess," Tim responds as he watches traffic pass on the street below. She is right; the night so far has been unusually calm. It's a distinct contrast to last week- it seemed like every night some big villain was pulling out some ridiculous plan or other, but somehow they had all been stopped without serious harm. Of course, there are still plenty of rogues still scurrying around Gotham but there's no murmurs of anything coming from any of the big hitters for the moment.

"You don't sound very sure about that," Steph says, stepping up beside Tim and elbowing him lightly.

"Yeah," Tim answers. A flashy silver car cuts someone off and the resultant horn echoes harshly.

"Okay, you're being weird. What's up?"

Tim shrugs.

"Guess I'm just used to emergencies," Tim shrugs. He knows Steph wouldn't be weird about him bringing up Bernard, but he really doesn't need any of his fellow bats thinking he's compromised or overstressed. God knows he doesn't need anyone else pestering him about getting enough sleep, like he's staying up on purpose.

"Okay..." Steph trails off. "I mean I guess it has been pretty hectic for a while. Takes a bit of time to come down from all that?"

Tim is saved from having to respond by the sound of Oracle cutting into comms.

"Red Robin, Spoiler, looks like a store robbery in progress and you're the closest. Head for the intersection of 25th and Oak."

"Got it," Tim answers and doesn't wait for Steph's response, already halfway through the motion of taking off for the next building.

Pretty soon they're both dropping in on a pair of goons. One of them is aiming their gun directly at a frazzled-looking employee, who doesn't seem interested in putting up a fight.

Two-on-two makes it an incredibly easy fight though, and it's almost over before it begins, with both of them able to sneak up on the distracted thugs as the cashier hurriedly pulls money out of the cash register. Once they're both in position, it's easy enough to grapple, disarm, and restrain them in a flurry of movement, and the criminals never get a chance to even process the arrival of the bats.

"Not today, I think," Steph says as she handcuffs her guy. "Threatening people with guns is a real dick move, y'know?" Tim gets his guy handcuffed and turns to the startled employee.

"Cops on the way yet?" He gets a frantic nod, and Tim surveys the shop as he waits for the sirens. They'll bounce just before the cops get here, but until then, he wants to look around for any signs of something bigger. The two would-be thieves seem too shocked and terrified at the appearance of bats to be proper goons, but they could still be bait, or a distraction of some kind. And the shop itself could theoretically have been targeted. But by the time the sirens are closing in outside, he's not spotted signs of anything sinister.

"Right, the police are almost here, so we're gonna bounce!" Steph announces as Tim walks back towards her. "Tell your boss I said he should give you hazard pay for the night, 'kay?" and then she bounces out the same way they came in. Tim nods once at the employee and then follows.

He changes directions once he's on the rooftops again, though. His phone had buzzed about six times in a row while they were waiting, and that means it's probably Bernard. And he really doesn't want to explain the arg thing to anyone yet.

Once he's far enough away from anyone, he pulls his phone out, and sure enough, he's got six text messages from Bernard.

Dude

Babe, holy shit

Like seriously

This is fucking crazy

Like I cannot believe they replied to us

Us!!!

Attached to the series of texts is a screenshot, and Tim feels the anxiety coalesce into something abruptly solid in his chest.

At first glance, he can't tell what language it's supposed to be. It looks like it might be Romantic in origin, but a couple spellings look almost Slavic in nature, and there's only two and a half lines, which really isn't much to go off of.

It's certainly an interesting development, to say the least. He should be excited. This is a new clue for the mystery, after all.

No way! Tim sends back.

Yeah! U busy? Comes the immediate response. And like, technically the answer is yes, Tim supposed. But Steph literally just pointed out how calm things are tonight, and he can already tell he won't be able to focus, with this news.

"Um," Tim clicks on his comm. "I think I'm gonna call it for tonight."

"Something wrong?" Bruce asks immediately, all gruff-batman-voice.

"No, just- it's slow tonight, and Bernard wants my help with something so I thought, um. If you want me to finish my patrol, I can." He can't help it. Even now, he always kind of feels like he isn't doing enough to be a good vigilante.

"Nah, kid. I think we'll be fine without you." Hood answers, unsurprisingly.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah go make out with your boyfriend or whatever."

Tim smiles at Hood's usual ribbing. He's almost gotten used to it; mostly he can keep himself from blushing too violently when anyone teases him about Bernard.

"Okay. I'll make sure to get my report submitted by eight, promise." Tim is already en route to the nearest safehouse where he can change out of the suit, when he remembers he hasn't responded to Bernard yet.

Heading home rn. My place or yours? He hits send and then takes off once more. Excited to see his boyfriend, and determined to work through the newest puzzle.

[thebiscuitlabryinth]

Cookiekind, in general, seems to hold the strange belief that Shadow Milk Cookie, as the Beast of Deceit, does not understand truth. This is because they have burnt ash for brains, and cannot comprehend that a change in superficial title does not mean that Shadow Milk Cookie is no longer the Master of Knowledge. Even if it did, a deciever can only be effective by understanding the nuance of truth, for the greatest lies are created through its flexibility.

So despite popular opinion, Shadow Milk does recognise, understand and know truth. Well, he knows everything, but especially something as fundamental as that.

Look, here's a truth, right now; Shadow Milk Cookie quite likes Pure Vanilla Cookie, in spite of everything.

Not in the soft, fluffy cotton candy way, of course. Shadow Milk likes Pure Vanilla in the same way a cat likes a mouse, or a researcher likes a test subject, or a puppeteer has a favourite puppet. He likes him because he is a source of entertainment – having such a soft, simple heart makes him fun to watch struggle with silly emotions, and easy to taunt and frazzle. That's all, really. Shadow Milk can't even say he likes him to the point of wanting to crack him open and see what makes him tick, because he doesn't need to. He already knows everything about Pure Vanilla, right down to the composition of the yeast in his body, because he has constantly kept his eyes on him since the start.

It must be said though, if we are to talk in truths, that Shadow Milk may have some biases that make him more invested in Pure Vanilla's continued existence. Namely, the fact that he holds his Soul Jam.

Now, obviously he doesn't like that this little half-cookie, this unworthy, flimsy vessel, holds half his power. On the contrary, it is nothing but an insult to watch him clumsily flaunt it around while Shadow Milk stays unjustly shackled. It is the only transgression Pure Vanilla has ever committed against him, but it is a blasphemous one.

And yet, even with his bubbling rage at the disrespectful theft of his rightful power, Shadow Milk sometimes likes to toy with the idea that he is a gift, a plea for forgiveness from the Witches that he can righteously ignore. After all, Pure Vanilla has his Soul Jam – his, not theirs – and does that not make Pure Vanilla his too?

Naturally, Shadow Milk knows that the Witches are horrible, selfish old tyrants and would not grant him that grace, but that does not change the fact that Pure Vanilla is, for all intents and purposes, his other half. There is something powerful in that knowledge, especially since he knows it would tear Pure Vanilla apart.

So Shadow Milk does like Pure Vanilla quite a lot, even with the full knowledge that he's a dirty little thief, because he is entertaining and, most importantly, he is his.

Now, here is another truth, since we're already on a roll; Shadow Milk Cookie will escape the Seal and get his Soul Jam back.

It's an inevitability, really. Even if Shadow Milk feels like he is absolutely crumbling of boredom stuck in this stupid tree, especially since the rest of the Beasts have one by one drifted into a bitterly restless slumber, they are all far too strong to be contained by a single measly seal forever. The day will come when it gives way beneath the probing of his hands, and with the cracks in the tree nearly large enough for him to stick his fingers through, he knows that day will come much, much sooner than later.

As for what comes after he escapes? Well, Shadow Milk has no concerns there.

The Faerie Cookies may have longer lifespans than average, but sadly that doesn't make them any smarter. It'll be a piece of cake to knead their doughy brains into doing what he wants them to, even with half his power missing. The Guardian is the only one who poses any real threat, and even that has a laughably easy solution, because he certainly isn't immune to crumbling.

Shadow Milk picks at the slim seam of the cracks with hands that are not his own, encouraging them to grow as he takes a moment to fantasise standing over the Guardian's pathetic crumbs.

Speaking of laughably easy solutions, Pure Vanilla is awfully kind to come to Beast-Yeast, right on the cusp of Shadow Milk's escape! Really, Shadow Milk was estatic when he overheard him discussing those travel plans. It saves him the trouble of having to track him down once he's finished freeing his friends and razing the Faeriewoods to the ground.

Even better, having Pure Vanilla around to welcome him back to the free air could prove to be useful. It would be so deliciously poetic, for Pure Vanilla to cut down the tree with his stolen power and set Shadow Milk free with his own hands, offering himself up in a syrupy spotlight to reunite the two lost halves of Knowledge to its true owner.

Shadow Milk could push him into it, he thinks confidently as he twists his claws into the fracture, grappling at the edges to force them wider. He knows Pure Vanilla better than Pure Vanilla knows himself, he is sure. It wouldn't even be hard.

Now, let's review! Shadow Milk Cookie quite likes Pure Vanilla Cookie, that is the first truth. And he will escape the Seal and get his Soul Jam back, that is the second.

These truths coexist, and because they do, Shadow Milk has long decided he won't immediately crumble Pure Vanilla into fine dust when he takes his Soul Jam back.

Oh, he could, and so easily too. Shadow Milk has held Pure Vanilla's hunched form in his palms dozens of times, in the pit of the abyss, has felt how fragile and weak it is – not that Pure Vanilla ever notices, the silly, blind thing. He has curled his claws around his silhouette like a cage countless times, and entertained and irritated himself with how easy it would be to crush him in one fell swoop.

Yes, he could crumble him without a second thought, but that wouldn't be much fun, would it? It's not like he needs to destroy him to be able to retrieve his Soul Jam, and really, it would be a bit of a waste. He's been waiting to meet him – really, truly meet him – for oh so long, to get rid of him immediately would just be anticlimatic. Nobody likes a boring ending, least of all Shadow Milk.

There is a sudden, audible crack, and Shadow Milk's hands finally breach the containment of the bark, fingers quickly scrambling to anchor themselves on the edges of the open wound. An uncontrollable, wild grin splits across Shadow Milk's face, or whatever is currently left of it, wide and eager.

He lurches forward, all of his eyes narrowing in on the wispy traces of light outside, with the exception of the one that always follows Pure Vanilla like a curse, currently watching him settle into an airship with some teeny, insignificant Cookies. Anticipation begins to simmer the endless darkness around him, finally, finally, finally making him feel alive for the first time in far too long.

Somewhere nearby, Silent Salt is slowly beginning to rouse, and Shadow Milk's grin stretches even wider. They don't make a sound and hardly move, but Shadow Milk knew they would be the first to wake. They always are.

Finally, a third truth, to neatly complete the rule of threes; Shadow Milk Cookie is looking forward to properly introducing himself and the other Beasts to Pure Vanilla Cookie.

This one doesn't need any further explanation. After all, there is nothing more thrilling than a good reveal.

The wood groans pitifully beneath his harsh grip, the noise mingling with the distant thrum of an airship in motion, and Shadow Milk's quiet but sharp giggling.

Ah, he can't wait to see Pure Vanilla's face when he realises the true identity of his precious Light of Truth.

[askunwantedguestnarrator]

[Ahh I just saw a new TSP account and wanted to interact.]

May the Narrator tell us more about his character design? Or if they have any special powers or anything?

What about how closely related they are to canon? How much headcannons do they have? Are they still working via canon facts or a separate AU?

[Excuse the long questions, I'm interested and came up with these on the spot]

Sending my regards to the older gentleman and the rest.

anywhoosies, thank you so much for the question, Kat!

[yuri-is-online]

I'm asking this question because I find it an interesting topic. It relates to the criticism the Tokyo Debunker MC receives.

It's not just TD's MC—it's a common theme in otome and gacha games. Genderless MCs in games like *Obey Me!* and *Twisted Wonderland* face less criticism than female MCs. Even though the genderless MCs get some hate, it’s nowhere near the backlash female MCs receive. For instance, *Twisted Wonderland* had debates about a female MC being unsuitable for an all-boys school, despite the presence of monsters and robots. This debate ended with a female MC in the *Savanaclaw* manga.

Another example is *Tears of Themis*, where the female MC is well-received in my opinion due to her having a character. I am very happy that she isn’t a self insert and people seem to agree.

In contrast, female self-insert MCs like TD's MC and *Love and Deep Space*'s MC get a lot of hate for what seems like trivial reasons. TD's MC is often criticized for being ordinary, while LADS's MC, who is strong and brave, also faces backlash, with some claiming she's rude despite evidence to the contrary.

In conclusion.

woman mc in this day of age can’t have flaws now….wait no they can’t be prefect either! As then they are Mary sue! What do you mean that LI are grey sue as well? No that not true Leo having a backstory would justify his actions don’t you get it? What do you mean we should hold the male characters as same standard? Jin treating mc as a servant is her fault as she didn’t say no…..😐 

... so I have two lines of thought about this particular topic, it is something I have thought about for a while because I am working on my own game/games and pay a lot of attention to what people think.

It isn't personality people like it is competence

The love and deepspace MC and Rosa from tears of themis actually have very similar personalities. They are bad at/hate studying. They really love food. They both are sort of dorks and known for being kind. What people like about them isn't any of those things, what they like is that both of them are adult women who you can believe live on their own. They actually have skills related to their jobs, you can believe Rosa is a lawyer and that MC is a hunter, the love interests aren't the only competent people in the narrative. I think this can sort of relate to the target audience for both of these games being working women, but that's for a different post. Right now I really want to focus on that concept of competence: the two other otomes I really love and want to bring up are Amnesia: Memories and Hakuoki. The Amnesia MC makes a lot of really stupid decisions, but as the game title gives away she has amnesia. There is an underlying explanation for why she's a bit dim so I don't see too many complaints about her personality (outside of Toma's route but that is a different story) because you don't exactly expect her to be competent. The same goes for Hakuoki's MC whose name escapes me at the moment, she is the daughter of a doctor so she is never made out to be incompetent in medical matters, but she isn't the best fighter. And she doesn't need to be that's the male love interest's role in this particular story.

The problem with MCs like our dear Luna? I believe you said her default name is, in Tokyo Debunker is that we don't exactly have anything she is stated to be good at beyond boosting Stigmas. The various ikmen games get around this by giving their MCs a job, but we don't have that for Luna so we don't have anything to show some backbone or character so people read her as being a bit of a doormat. Like I have said numerous times before, I don't mind this and think that so long as they keep allowing us to see her thoughts this the writing will be good. A relatively easy fix to this could have been to make her someone who really loves music and constantly talks about it, she was going to a concert at the start of the game so that little bit of character would go a long way for her to be more of a human for people to project themselves onto. Generally speaking, when writing an MC, it is perfectly acceptable to give them certain personality traits and a history. But if you do that you need to make sure the narrative respects that interest and does not use it as an excuse to make the male lead look cooler.

Gender Neutral MCs

*sigh* so you bring up Twisted Wonderland and I uh... have some experience with that fandom! And I have observed the gender wars over Yuu with a weary heart. I genuinely could not care any less about how people identify or the type of o.c.s they make, but some people really really care and if I am honest I find that a bit disturbing. It honestly makes me sad to see fanfic, which used to be a really accepting space, fight over writing... well anything really. m/m blogs screaming about how they don't want fem aligned reading their things, f/f blogs screaming about men, the f/m fic writers feeling the need to defend themselves writing for a female reader- doesn't that exhaust you? Why do you care so much? I do not have the energy to care about people writing fanfic I am not interested in reading, is this because I am anemic or have I managed to be normal about one singular thing?

My personal theory is that the commodification of fanfic and fandom has made people think there is something fundamentally wrong with properties that are marketed towards people who are not them. The reaction to Love and Deepspace not having a male MC option sort of cemented that for me, there is nothing wrong with wanting a game where you can be a man or non-binary and date anime boys. There is also nothing wrong with writing m/m fanfic for a property like lds, or wishing you could play as a man in it. I think there is a genuine market gap in good games for people who aren't fem aligned, but you do not get good games by harassing people or implying they suck for wanting games where you can play as a woman. You get that by financially supporting projects aimed at you! There is a blog I follow on here called @amaregamesdb. They post a bulletin of projects, both vn and if, with an emphasis on making people aware of projects that aren't simply otome (ie male love interests with a female protagonist.) I think the people who run it are also the people who coined the term "amare game" to use for games where the MC isn't necessarily female. They also ran a blog to help people like me learn how to code if/vns so I am very grateful for them, so please do give them your support.

I write for a gender neutral reader because I wanted to write interactive fiction and felt like I needed to practice doing so. I have continued to do because honestly? I really enjoy it. I love seeing how many different people identify with my writing and are moved by it. There are some projects I want to do in the future (original works, not fanfic) that I probably will lock the MC to female for, but I want to continue providing gn fic for people for as long as I write. And original projects too! I have two in particular I am working on behind the scenes. The solution to the problems like "what gender is yuu really," if you will permit me to preach for a second, is to not care. Yana said Yuu was meant to be you, and dear reader I don't actually know who you are! So you can be whoever it is you wish to be in your heart and I will make room for you to sit next to me. I'll even make tea (｡•̀ᴗ-)✧

[n0ahsferatu]

character sheet for my tav mordred :) a grumpy goth weirdo who secretly has a very sensitive heart but has to act like a pissed off possum at all times to keep up appearances. it’s a harsh world for little guys out there. (his nickname is mort)

[calware]

"i happened to not find this character very interesting or likeable" doesn't automatically mean they're an objectively bland and boring character it just means you have a personal opinion

[hagnoart]

Happy belated pride from these two; i need to post here more often but yeah for now there you go - Neil and Andrew :)

I should draw Jean and Jeremy soon agghh

Also it is glazed - that’s why there are these tiny little lines on it etc etc

[deus-and-the-machina]

ngl I might get crucified for this but I think the dunmeshi yuri/yaoi discourse was stupid and misrepresenting the ao3 factoids. as of today the most written for mlm ship is labru with 69 (nice) and the next most popular has less then half that at 31. meanwhile farcille has 125 out of the 154 F/F ships in the tag. it is by FAR the most popular ship, with the next two most written about sapphic ships being marcille/izutsumi (9) and kiki/namari (4) and also a couple of x readers? so farcille dominates by far

it seems to me that what's going on is that several mlm ships are in rotation in terms of popularity whereas farcille dominates as the singularly popular wlw ship.

and this doesnt mean that the issues people were bringing up about the general lack of sapphic content and the way fandom treats female characters aren't valid, but idk man when farcille fanart is cropping up daily and getting thousands of notes and has about twice more the amount of fics that the most popular mlm ship on ao3 has its like. I dont think this is really a fandom that proves that point.

I would like to see some more variation in smaller wlw pairs to make up the difference though! I dont think I see any tade/izutsumi fics and we need to change that they could be so cute.

[bumblingbabooshka]

Voyager should have had an episode where the command trio beat the absolute hell out of each other while blaming each other for being stuck in the delta quadrant as the fever pitch of a rising tension that was building throughout the episode. Like, they're absolutely being pushed to do it by some outside force. Maybe it's a telepathic being - maybe it's that they're stuck in some arena or an alien court or a time loop only the three of them are aware of - no matter the specifics, the sentiment behind their words has to be true and it has to be something they've been keeping back for months, maybe years. That fear and hatred and blame that doesn't really have an actual target because it's not actually rational but 'who's to blame' doesn't have to be capital T true to feel true. If Chakotay hadn't been in the badlands, If Janeway hadn't made that choice, If Tuvok hadn't supported it... "You trapped us here. It's your fault. If you hadn't-! If you hadn't-! If you hadn't-!" are just echoes of "I trapped us here. It's my fault. If I hadn't-! If I hadn't-! If I hadn't-!" Because at the end of the day more than being angry or hateful they're despairing in their own ways. Episode probably has a somber end - they beat whatever it was and it's a victory! They won by working together even after they beat each other half to death! But after the celebration we see them alone in their quarters...silent. Gazing out at the stars, into a candle's flame, at that same family picture before turning away. Because even though they won they're still there in the delta quadrant. Is that really victory?