#And angst

[grey-viridian]

Even death can't separate them

[anime-grimmy-art]

I’ve been catching up with all the Deltarune theories and theme analysis that came out since chapter 2. And what surprise, the one that immediately caught my attention was the “Papyrus is the knight” theories, cos, ya know, I love him very much.

As for if I believe in the theories? Meh, Imma let Toby surprise me rather than speculate. So, see this more of an AU or headcanon than what I think will actually be happening in game.

Still, this tickled the creative side of my brain so you can bet you can find a loooong ass ramble here if you wanna know more about this AU/headcanon of mine.

It gets unnecessarily meta :)

[baker-chan-senpai]

i LOVE alternate meeting serirei au's pass it on

[fuckingstrange]

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Take it easy

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WARNINGS: Nightmare talk, Reader has a nightmare (unspecified though), Implied(?) Panic Attack, Concerned & Loving Spencer Reid, Non-Sexual Neck Kissing

WORDS: 612

PAIRING: Spencer Reid x gn!reader

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You wake up in a cold sweat, gasping and sobbing. The feeling of a hand on your back makes you jolt, nearly falling off the bed before the gentle voice of Spencer calling out for you and helping hold you back from falling knocks you out of your panicked state, enough to turn and look at him.

Pure worry and fear for you crosses his mind as he rests his hands on your cheeks, thumbs wiping your tears away, only to see more pour down your cheeks. “Fuck, baby, are you okay?” He asks as he lets his hands fall to your shoulders, obviously unsure about how you'd react to him getting closer than he is.

You're still shaking as the tears fall, your breath heavy from the nightmare that plagued your dreams remaining in your mind. You stare at him with wide, pleading eyes, unable to respond. He doesn't say or ask anything else after that, just lightly rubbing your tense shoulders as you try to calm down.

Your eyes slip shut, you trying to take a second to think of anything but the nightmare, but it only makes it more vivid. You can't think, but you can feel - and all you can feel is fear. You whimper in a way that you'd say makes you sound pathetic, though not being in your right mind and terrified, you can't really stop. You want to curl in on yourself, you want to run away, but ultimately you can't even move. Hell, you don't think you could even breathe right now.

Spencer hears the whimper, deciding to scoot closer so he's sitting right beside you. “Take it easy. Take it easy, baby.” He whispers as he moves his hand to rest over your heart, feeling how quick and hard it's pounding against your ribcage. His free hand moves to the side of your head, guiding you to lean into him. “Lean on me. I've got you.” He says in hopes of soothing you.

He starts taking deep breaths for you to copy, wanting to present calm so you can feel calm. Well, as calm as you can be after such a gut-twisting nightmare. Spencer kisses the top of your head as he reaches over to turn on the bedside lamp, dim because the bulb is going out, but still perfect. He doesn't think to ask what made you wake up in this state, all he wants to do is make sure you make it out.

The hand over your heart lightly runs along your chest, his fingers brushing along the fabric in a way that's so slow and sweet you can't help but melt right into him. The way he treats you, your mind, body, and heart, has you falling harder each day. The man is so gentle when needed, showing true love and care every second you're with him. Even in moments like this when you wake up violently crying and afraid of him, he always manages to get you to relax.

You tuck your head into the crook of his neck, giving the soft skin a light kiss, a silent ‘thank you’, a signal he's used to. He lightly squeezed your shoulder in response, the hand rested on the side of your head moving to the back so his fingers can card through your hair as you pepper his neck and shoulder in kisses.

“Feeling better, I assume?” He asks, smiling when he feels you nod your head against his neck. You move your hand to his shoulder and pull him closer, giving his jaw a few light kisses before lifting your head to give him a proper one. “Much better.”

[spoopieere]

Collectkin doodle page :3

(Click for better quality)

Asa and Arkin being married and gets to live rent free in my head. In fact they have a whole ass mansion inside my head.

Closeups of stuff I like:

They go on fishing trips (Arkin fishes, Asa just reads)

‼️‼️LESBIANS YEAHHHHHH‼️‼️‼️

Plants 🌱

Them as kitties :3

[kelvintimeline]

It's insane to me that people are arguing that EEAAO is just like... not at all intellectually engaging. And I really think it's kind of just really bizarre to argue that just because something is positive, it must be... stupid? Or at least lacking in intellectual stimulation.

Like... EEAAO is a deeply philosophical film, even if people aren't waxing poetic about it in the dialogue. Like, we have the basics of the LITERAL philosophies its invoking like yin and yang (and more from philosophies and religions I'm not informed enough on to talk about any length, I'll admit that here), nihilism, and, yes, the existence of a multiverse and what it means to have multiple "selves" which is a metaphysical topic... you're just used to it being diluted by comic book franchises whcih want to have an excuse to reuse the same characters five times and avoid narrative consequence.

And even beyond the like direct philosophical narrative... this film is dealing with extremely deep and... traumatic topics?

Intergenerational trauma and indeed the cyclical nature of suffering isn't a shallow topic just because it's end thesis is that healing is possible and connections can be reformed. It's a film obviously aware of race but also gender, class, and sexuality and doesn't just use those as like "Look, we're diverse, give us points!" fodder. It's dealing with adult issues (including fucking TAXES) with room to be silly.

If you're blinded by hot dog fingers and assuming that means this film is intellectually void, I think... you might be the vapid one. Like, I'm not going to argue this film is genius tier stuff but it is ABSOLUTELY intellectually engaging, narratively and philosphically rich, and has compelling, human stories that exist beyond the surface level. If you are getting lost in the silly veneer, that's absolutely an indictment of YOUR character, not the film itself.

This has the same energy as people calling Nope an empty film. Might not be my place to call it out but it kinda just feels like a knee jerk racist reaction and in inability to parse narratives that aren't exploring "relatable" (ie white) stories. Because like... EEAAO is begging you to engage with its narrative on multiple levels the entire way through, if you aren't doing that... on some level you are just CHOOSING to not do that

[crow-aeris]

A Reverse-Robin Wingfic / To Brace Upon Benign Feathers

It starts kinda crack-ish, but then gets kinda emotional-y towards the end ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

===

"TIM!"

He jerked awake, blinking at the ceiling in confusion as his brain slowly registered where he was.

"Tim!" the voice came again, followed by a body slamming into his chest.

"Oomf!" Tim grunted as the air was violently knocked out of his chest. With a tight expression, he reached up and carded a hand through his brother's hair, "Morning, Dick."

"Hi!" the newest addition to the family chirped brightly, his sapphire eyes glowing as bright as a 200,000 lumens flashlight. Brighter than the sun, even. The blue reminds him of Kon and the alien's blue eyes that looked like a wolf-rayet star.

"What time is it?" Tim mumbled, wincing as the five-year-old crawled over him, digging his knee into Tim's kidney and accidentally stepping on his wing.

"It's time for you to get your a- butt in gear and move," Jason called from the door. “Damian’s making breakfast, so Duke asked us to come and wake you.”

Tim groaned, dropping his head back until it banged loudly against the headboard. Maybe if he hit his head hard enough, he could go back to sleep.

Dick cheered when he spotted Jason, the Ficher's Lovebird's bright red-yellow-green wings flaring out as he launched himself at the teen.

Jason grunted as Dick slammed into him but managed to keep his grip steady.

"Hurry up and get ready," Jason said. The cardinal shifted, folding his bright crimson wings against his back as Dick tucked his face into Jason's neck, "B said he's gonna take up to the zoo."

"Zoo! I wanna go to the zoo!" Dick's head shot up as he clutched Jason's shirt.

"I know, Dickie," Jason rolled his eyes fondly, "that's why we're going."

"Okay!" the fledgling chirped, "Tim!"

"Yes?" He lifted his head from the pillow with a slow and tired blink. What he'd give to have Kon here right now.

"Get! Up!" Dick demanded. Jason, the traitor, just laughed. "Or else I'll tell Dami to come get you!"

The falcon hummed, waiting until his brothers disappeared from the doorframe before flipping over and shoving his face back into the pillow.

Everything ached, his back especially, and it wasn't because of Kon, okay, Jason? Tim had been fighting Killer Croc last night, and that bastard got lucky and slammed Tim against a brick wall. His right arm was a huge-ass bruise, and he was not excited to get up.

Maybe if he pretended to be dead, Damian would leave him be...

Who is he kidding? If the harpy eagle was willing to drag a pit-crazed Tim from the brink of suicide, then he was more than willing to dunk Tim in the pits.

Just as he was about to doze off, there was a knock on the doorframe.

"What?" Tim -whined- groaned, not bothering to lift his head from the pillow.

"Hey, Ducky," an amused voice called.

He pouted, turning his head to glare balefully at Duke. The mourning dove smiles, lifting a brow in amusement. Traitor.

"Leave me alone, Duke," Tim grumbled, thankful that Alfred had all the pillows and sheets in Tim's room reinforced since the last time he had a Pit-episode... It had been a whole thing...

Duke raised another eyebrow, mimicking Alfred's patented Disappointed Stare™ quite successfully. Tim doesn't doubt that, at this point, Duke could get even Damian to bend to his will.

And just like Alfred's own stares, Tim, frustratingly, folded under pressure.

For fuck's sake- he was supposed to Wraith, the dead spirit of the Bat's second Shadow revived and out to hunt ne'er do wells as well as the Bats themselves- his goddamn reputation!

"What reputation, Tim?" Duke laughed before strolling over and yanking the covers off of him.

God, Tim hates it when he says things out loud. A side effect of being locked away by Ra's in an attempt to break his spirit or whatever.

He grumbled as Duke hauled him up and out of bed. Annoyingly, the Lazarus pits healed his shitty eyes, that one scar he got from following Shadow around, and the gash in his throat, but not his fucking height. Instead, Tim has to be stuck in this measly five-foot-seven-inch body, while Duke, Bruce, and Damian all got to be fucking six-foot-plus behemoths.

A shake snapped Tim out of his misery.

"Did you even hear what I said?" Duke asked incredulously.

"No," Tim huffed, "I was distracted and decided not to listen to your stupid voice saying stupid stuff."

"Says that one in air jail," Duke replied smugly. Shit, he's right. That fucker. "Tim, I can practically hear you cussing me out. Keep doing this, and I'll have Bruce and Damian hide your coffees and Red Bulls."

"W-"

"And your monsters."

Tim gasped, "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me. Now go get ready. We leave in an hour, and you don't even have a shirt on, Tim."

"It's a fashion choice," he hissed, "you wouldn't understand because you're stupid!"

Duke sighed, plopping Tim onto the floor. He wasn't even surprised when the falcon went boneless, turning into a limp pile of loose limbs and angry hissing, "You're such a child, Ducky."

"This is because I'm gay, isn't it!" Tim demanded, snapping to his feet and flaring out his wings, "This is homophobia!"

"Of course, it is," Duke drily responded before he turned and made for the door, "I'll send Damian up in ten minutes. If you haven't gotten ready by then, I'm allowing him to dress you however he likes."

Duke closed the door gently, but he might as well have slammed it from how ruffled it left him.

Honestly, the gall! How has he, Wraith, Ra's desired heir to the fucking Damon's Fang, fallen so far from his formidable glory?

Nevertheless, Tim forced himself to get ready. He brushed his teeth and washed his face- even "Serial Killers" need clear skin, but was killing fifteen of Black Mask's and the Joker's most trusted really considered killing? Bruce was just overreacting!- and then threw on a short-sleeved shirt, hoodie over that, washed-out ripped jeans, and called it a day.

Tim groaned, desperately craving coffee, caffeine, or something to stave off the complete and utter exhaustion pooling in his head. This was terrible, horrible, and a vile thing to do.

"Timothy," Damian said from where he stood at the table, a plate held in the eagle's hands. He was wearing a bright pink apron covered with flour, and Jason was behind him, wearing a matching pink apron and holding a plate, too. "You finally decided to show your face and detach yourself from that hovel."

"If you want, I could always go back to my so-called Hovel," Tim tilted his head in a challenge.

"Tt," Damian scoffed before sliding a plate to Tim's spot, "Seeing as you have already decided to show your face, and Richard somehow tolerates you, it would be more efficient if you remain here."

Dick was already seated with a glass of strawberry milk, and his pancakes were half-finished and absolutely drowning in maple syrup. Bruce was directly across from Dick, and his pancakes were far more respectable with butter, syrup, bacon, and a cup of coffee. Duke was beside Dick, and he had a plate with fresh fruit, powdered sugar, and a glass of orange juice. Alfred sat at the head of the table with his English breakfast, tea, and a proud smile. Cass was next to Bruce with a bowl of fruit, orange juice, toast, and multiple slices of stolen bacon.

Hesitantly, Tim sat down at the end of the table as Jason rushed over to fill the empty chair between Tim and Duke. Damian, the bull-headed son of a bitch -that bitch being Bruce, because Tim would never call Talia a bitch- decided the best seat wasn't going to be next to Cass, but instead the seat directly in front of Tim. Not in front of Jason, but in front of Tim.

Instead of confronting his feelings like a well-adjusted member of society should, Tim decided the best course of action was to examine his plate of pancakes.

It had fudge drizzled over the top, dusted lightly with powdered sugar, and freshly diced strawberries were placed like a crown with their leaves carefully removed and tossed in a barely noticeable syrup. There was a small bowl of strawberry-lemon zest jam on the edge of Tim's plate, and he could tell that whoever positioned it was diligent. Not a single speck of powdered sugar got onto the outside of the tiny bowl...

Every part of this plate looked like it had been prepared in a five-star restaurant. What more was that this was exactly the same kind of pancakes Damian would make for him as an apology back when Tim was Shadow...

Suddenly, his eyes were beginning to sting, and Tim could feel Damian's stare carve holes into the top of his head. And then, Damian slid over a cup of steaming coffee, and just by looking at it, he knew Damian had made it the way Tim loved.

It was a declaration, an apology, and a promise all wrapped in a simple breakfast…

He took a deep breath and cut into his pancakes, forcing himself to hold back tears as his family chattered around him.

Even after everything that has happened, his flock still accepted him.

Even after everything, Tim was still loved.

[thirtysomethingloser92]

I think the worst thing about writing is that I’m in dire need to write that slow burn Rafael Barba/Reader story, because apparently ya’ll are thirsty bitches for our sassy suspender wearing ADA and I’m willing to take one for the team.

I have a sort of plot, a vibe, and borderline personality disorder- enjoy the angst this is gonna bring.

Ya welcome.

[cruilty-ink]

Is this right?

The beginning, Prev, next

Masterpost

the memories are starting to get more vibrant

[justanotherperson1]

Hi Hi!!

This is my first time asking on Tumblr, and your blog is probably the only one I was super drawn to. I love all of your art and your love for Bayverse Optimus. Bayverse Optimus is my favorite iteration of the character, and I always come up with some head fanfiction about how he would act in Transformers: Prime and the IDW comics.

Is there an in-universe reason for how Bay Op got to the Transformers: Prime world? This whole AU could be a great fanfiction if someone wrote it (not me, though). I also wondered how Bay Optimus would react if Prime Optimus hugged him straight up.

Hi Hi!

First ask… that’s pretty special! Thank you! I love that you enjoy my little corner of the fandom so much!! And you pose a really good question. So, as far as I puzzled it out, the ‘jump’ from the Bay! Universe to the Prime! Universe would have happened with some fuckery with a relic from one of the origional 13 Primes- Vector Prime. The guy was a demention and time hopper and in ‘Solus Prime’ fashion, would have left something behind that contained some of his power. Optimus gets ahold of it, and with his Prime-y power activates it, so another one of ‘him’ gets ripped out of his own universe and brought into TFP. I didn’t really know if I wanted a scientist of sorts to have tried to replicate Vector’s technological artifacts he may have left behind, or it just be Vector’s object itself though. Following the scientist’s route, the machine would have been powered with energy pods that would have to have been tracked down for multiple uses. The energy pod it would have been preloaded with would be used on-contact, and then the story would be kind of framed around Team Prime trying to find more (and prehaps Bay! cutting a deal with Megatron to use his resourses to get home but IDK).

As for the hug? The both neeeeeeed one for sure, but neither would ask. IF tackled with one Bay! Would probably try to unlatch immediately like a cat in a bathtub. A horrible case really. Tfp, if he would do it, would have to approach Bay! as though it was HIS idea, and if it worked it would probably be the epitome of the meme “What’s this? Affection? Pathetic… but do it again.”

[imfinereallyy]

i need a long fic with the building friendship between the triple threat, the muskequeers, the troublesome trio: Steve, Eddie and Robin. I need them being silly, and learning to have fun again. I need them healing from trauma together. I need fun roommate shenanigans. I need Eddie and Steve slowly falling in love, and Robin just happy watching it happen. I need Steve and Eddie taking Robin to her first gay club. I need just little snippets of their lives as friends. I just need this.

[callmegaith]

JACKALOPE VALENTINE'S DAY REQUESTS pt 1 🦌💜🐰

[amielot]

I love how in fundamental ways Dream and Hob are the same no matter the universe they're in, but that in the centaur AU it's just straight to boning, whereas the horse girl AU there's healing and pining first.

One was me just being horny, the other is me being horny but adding hurt/comfort :3

[intofolkloreee13]

You know the fanart of Raven Neil asking Fox Andrew how sharp his knife is and Andrew is like ”come find out” — I need a fan fiction exactly like that and I need it desperately

[thecasualauthor]

@jilymicrofics March Prompts 29 Disgrace

Enjoy! Read under the cut

----

“You’re a disgrace,” Bellatrix whispers as she presses the knife to Lily’s neck. “A blight. A mistake.”

Lily can’t see Bellatrix’s face, but she can imagine the look of fury that so often graces her features, and she tenses when Bellatrix’s next words echo throughout their surroundings “I don’t even think you’re worth me killing you with magic,” she purrs, and Lily feels the knife dig deeper into her skin. She resists the urge to cry out and inhales sharply, steadying herself.

Stall. She needs to stall long enough for James to get here. Long enough for him to get what they need and get out. 

“Well, isn’t that a relief?” Lily grits out. “I’m glad if nothing else I’m good for sparing you the effort.”

Bellatrix actually hisses, and makes a deeper cut into Lily’s skin, enough that Lily can’t help but let out a cry of pain. It echoes in the dimly lit alleyway, and adrenaline courses through her veins. She grits her teeth, and trying to feign indifference, opens her mouth. “Oh, come now, Bella,” she says mockingly. "You're usually so fond of a bit of wand-waving theatrics. What's changed?” Lily hears a low laugh from the Death Eater’s lips, and it chills her to the bone.

“I already told you you weren’t worth it,” Bellatrix says in a terrifyingly soothing voice. "besides," she trails the knife across Lily's neck, leaving a trail of pain and blood behind. “There’s something satisfying about seeing the life drain out of you up close. It’s more personal, don’t you think?” 

"Ah, yes, much," Lily retorts, her voice dripping with sarcasm despite the fear coursing through her veins. "It seems like an awful lot of work for you, though. Don’t you have better things to do?” She glances around the alleyway, willing James to appear. 

Where was he?

She feels Bellatrix shrug. “Nothing I can’t reschedule. I think this is more productive.” 

The knife moves deeper. 

Lily is running out of time. 

“Productive?” Lily chokes. “You consider running me through with a knife as productive?” She can see Bellatrix’s smile in her mind’s eye. 

"Oh, absolutely,” Bellatrix snarls, her voice dripping with malice. "Every moment spent watching the light fade from your eyes is a victory for me, Mudblood. I’ll enjoy killing you.”

“Or you could not do that.” 

James Potter’s words are accompanied by a jet of orange light that collides with Bellatrix, who screeches in pain and loosens her grip around Lily just a little. Lily doesn’t hesitate to react. She whirls, stamping as hard as she can on her attacker’s foot, and dives for her wand, lying just a few feet away, ignoring the searing pain in her neck.

A stunning spell flies from her wand, but Bellatrix deflects it easily and sends a barrage of curses at both her and James. The two of them are holding up, but only barely, and Lily and James exchange the briefest look before Lily lunges for him, and the two of them disapparate. 

The first place Lily thinks of is Potter Manor, and they arrive in the garden, both breathing heavily. Once they’ve steadied each other, James’ hands move to her neck, examining the deep, jagged cut made by Bellatrix’s knife. 

“Merlin, Lily,” he says. “I’m so sorry. I–”

“It isn’t your fault,” Lily says firmly. “I needed to distract her.”

“So you let yourself get a knife run through you?” James sounds frantic, and he reaches into his pocket, pulling out his wand and pointing it at her wounds.

“I didn’t mean for her to disarm and capture me,” Lily rolls her eyes. “It was an accident.” 

“An accident that nearly got you killed.” 

Lily winces as James’s wand hovers over her neck, a warm glow emanating from the tip of it. It’s a mild stinging sensation, but it’s healing the gash, and that’s what she cares about.

“Better?” James asks, and Lily just throws her arms around him. 

“Thank you,” she mumbles into his chest. They stay there for a while, and Lily pulls back to look at him. “Did you get it?” James reaches into his pocket, and pulls out the small, ornate box. 

“Yeah,” he says. “We got it.” 

Lily’s heart swells with pride. “We make a pretty good team,” she takes his hand, squeezing it lightly. James grins. 

“Yeah, we do.”

[ant1quarian]

could you do a scenario with a male reader where mafiafell sans finds someone crying and shaking in an alleyway, since they were just attacked and robbed and badly hurt, and sans decides to help care for the person’s wounds

thank you!

Of course :]

Didn't know whether you wanted it to have romantic connotations or not, so feel free to ask me again to rewrite it in a more platonic manner if you don't like it!

Hit, well. He wouldn't pretend that he was an overly compassionate person.

He didn't like to admit that he'd lost his ability to care about people the way he used to a long time ago, but it was still a fact.

It was because of these reasons that he. He hadn't expected to shortcut into the back alley of a popular bar and find you.

And hell, if he ever wanted to describe anyone as a mess that wasn't himself, you were definitely someone he'd put that label on.

Trembling, crying- several wounds scattered all over your form. It almost looked like someone had taken a knife to you, if the few slashes he could see were any indication.

He shouldn't have cared. He really shouldn't of- but he had. Something about you must have reminded him of himself, back when he was younger.

"shit." He'd cursed softly underneath his breath as he'd approached you in the way one would to a cornered, wounded animal.

Which you were, technically.

He cared about you. He cared about you a lot- to the point where he figured the best course of action would be to take you back to his house and get his lil' bro to look at you- maybe one of his other mafia counterparts.

Like hell he was letting Soot anywhere near you, though. Not with his track record with killing off humans.

... the part of him he didn't understand wanted to keep you safe.

He still recalls the way you latched onto the lapel of his suit's jacket and curled into him, handsome eyes looking up into his sockets with a hint of hope amidst the fear and worry.

...

He hadn't ever taken himself to be anything more than romantically orientated towards females- but, uh, heh. You sure were a game changer, huh?

...

With a little analysis of his life on one of those late nights where he's half-asleep next to you on the couch, Hit realised he probably actually had also been into guys.

His life had just... never really provided enough room for exploration of that kind.

But there was no denying the way you made his SOUL thump. Your scent made him feel comfortable and that little thing you did when you scratched the base of his skull-

...

He could feel himself melting.

And for once in his life, Hit decided that maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad to fall.