#DROP THE FIC LINK

[padfootastic]

Hey padfootastic! Was reading a fic about Sirius' revenge and it was bloody brutal so this thought came into my mind, had they wanted, -Blacks I mean- Dark Lord would legit be nothing. Turned into ashes(oh how I hate that scene from movies) even before he started terrorizing others. What do ya think bout it?

Feels like had they been together and their mind, force, resources were used rightfully even Dumbledore might have been afraid of them. Sometimes I think he was, they both were, and how they might have rejoiced it- Voldemort when Regulus and Bellatrix game Dumbledore when Sirius joined his cause and then was thrown away in the Azkaban.

Yeah that's it ig...

hey anon!!

okay but that sounds super cool 👀 can i request the link pls 🥺

also i think. okay. so. here’s the thing. i think the black family has a lot of potential, yeah? but as we get them, they’re basically obliterated. both symbolically and literally.

so, for me, they most definitely have the capability to smoke the entire dark movement. easily. if. and only if they’re properly developed by the narrative. like, i’ve read so many fics where say, arcturus takes command and changes the entire direction of the war. or where sirius steps up to the lordship mantle and fucks shit up. or some random black OC does the trick. point is, i need worldbuilding and canon divergence but i can totally see it happening.

the blacks r also really competent to the point of being terrifying ykno? reg managed to crack voldys deep dark secret at like. 18. orion was so powerful his security measures were in place long after his death. narcissa lied to the dark lords face. no need to say anything ab sirius and bella. id argue that even andromeda had balls of solid gold for just. running away and marrying a muggleborn and staying alive thru it all. and if u turn the purity family motto into ‘purity of family blood’ then u can have even more fun w the ‘how DARE u touch a member of our family’ situation ykno?

and then theees the political/economic front. id the blacks were akin to royalty, then imagine them pulling strategic manoeuvres to fuck voldy up in a bureaucratic sense. it’ll be so fun.

[journen]

So, I have a couple artworks I did for a fic I wrote / am writing. Au where Simon leaves the army to raise his nephew Joseph. In this installment ahaha Soap, who is still in the army, is visiting for the holidays, and so here is Simon and Jo picking up Soap from the airport, and Joseph giving Soap a hug! Both are of little scenes in the first chapter. 😊🧡

I'm so weak for uncles Simon and Johnny!!!!

[crazymecjc]

every day’s great at your junes!

my piece for @p4zine ! this zine was such a fantastic experience, and I was so happy to be a part of it leftovers sales are open now, so get your copy while you still have a chance!!

[haunting-hufflepuffs-basement]

Genuinely one of my favorite things about the maruaders fandom that is widely agreed upon:

Regulus is trans. Everyone assumes Remus is trans because werewolf behavior can look suspiciously similar to having a period. Shenanigans ensue:

*During 1st Year*

Sirius: *discreetly giving Remus chocolate during his time of the month*

Remus, in his head: HOW DOES HE KNOW? HOW DOES HE KNOW I'M A WEREWOLF? HOW DOES HE KNOW CHOCOLATE HELPS? WHY IS HE NOT SAYING ANYTHING? WHAT IS HAPPENING?

*Quidditch Locker Room*

Marlene: FUCK!

Sirius: What's wrong?

Marlene: I started my period and don't have anything on me!

James, who started carrying extras because he's a mom friend: Oh, here you go.

Marlene: *intensely stares at them* Okay if James carries the tampons and Remus is the one who uses them, why the FUCK is Sirius named Pads???

James: I. . .what?

Sirius: Abort Prongs. There's no right answer to this one.

*During a Study Session*

Regulus: Ugh, I'm so jealous of you sometimes Lupin.

Remus "Low Self-Esteem" Lupin: Why?

Reg: It's just that. . .well, if your mood is any indication, your time of the month is so CONSISTENT! Like, every 28 days like clockwork. You've never had 2 in one month or anything!

Remus, in his head: . . .is. . .is Regulus a werewolf too? Is this how Sirius was so accepting?

Remus out loud: You get it TWICE sometimes, how is that even possible?

Reg: I know right, it's so unfair!

Regulus: . . .

Peter: . . .

Regulus: So is there a REASON you've been stalking me or---

Peter: Are you a werewolf?

Reg: The fuck? No? Why---

Peter: KAY THANKS BYE!

*later*

Remus: oh my God Peter I didn't mean ASK HIM

Peter: Well how the fuck else was I supposed to find out?

Everyone start milking the comedy potential, or I'll have to write it myself! This is a threat! There's enough angst in this fandom, we need more pure comedy fics!

[cicadaart]

Been drawing nonstop all week but I did it!!

[Edit: but wait, there’s more!]

Bonus without text:

[sailorsally]

As much as I would like to see Cas go full on smitey on John, I would LOVE to see Dean have a Mickey Milkovich moment where he goes "yeah, dad, Cas fucks me so good and I love it!"

[kettlefire]

A Panic in Time (DP x DC)

This is all thanks to the awesome @tkiesai for basically being the foundation of this idea! This is probably going to be long, and probably won't delve that deep into my ideas about this idea. Largely so it's not insanely long. But here I go!

°•°•°•°

Bruce's head felt like it had been shoved through a straw and spit out on the other side. The throbbing was annoying, but it wasn't anything the man couldn't handle.

His mind was muddled, memories of what happened prior to him awaking was blurry and unsure. Bruce knew it wasn't something good.

He vaguely remembered a league meeting, a threat, something looming. It wasn't world ending, or at least that's what Bruce remembered. It should have been something they could handle.

But now, here was Bruce. Waking up in the grass of some random park. He was dressed in casual attire, something he'd wear in public as Bruce. Although last he remembered he was in the Batsuit.

The sun felt too bright in the sky. The sound of families filled the air and children's laughter. No one seemed to blink twice at Bruce as he pulled himself together.

It took a moment to steel himself, to gain composer again. It took a few sweet lines, and a charming smile for a nice mother to slide him a few painkillers. The lies rolling off his tongue like second nature.

To his luck there was a newspaper at the top of the trashcan. He was in some town called Amity Park, and the year... the year was the problem.

It was 1996. Whatever had happened had sent Bruce back in time. There was a few suspects Bruce can think were the cause of this. But something in his gut kept drawing his train of thought to the Flash.

It seemed like each time the League had any time related problems, Barry was in the center of it. Which also leaves Bruce with the question if he was the only one sent back in time.

God, he could only imagine the nightmare if the others were sent back in time. Yes, they can be professional. They understand the risk of changing things in the past.

But Bruce also understands that his team can be less than... intelligent at times.

Despite that, Bruce needed to find a way to get back to Gotham. He might not know for sure where everyone was right now, but he knew Alfred was the safest bet.

A plan laid out in Bruce's mind, a list of people he knew wouldn't be a risk to approach. He just needed to find a way to get to them. He had barely made it to the gates of the park before a shrill cry pierced the air.

There was just one loud outcry, before it quieted down. Bruce glance around the space, spotting a young boy curled on the ground. Tears streamed down the boy's chubby cheeks.

And no one even moved to the boy's aid. Not a single mother spared more than one glance in the kid's directions. No parents came rushing over to the boy's side.

Bruce almost walked away, he really did. This wasn't his time, anything he does can cause immense damage to the timeline. But when Bruce caught sight of blood bubbling from a scrape on the boy's knee, Bruce couldn't ignore him.

Maybe it's just the father in him, but Bruce barely even notices when he's crossing the small distance. His mind zeroing in on a hurt child that needed help. Kneeling before the small boy with a gentle smile, and pulling his handkerchief free from his pocket.

"You're alright there, buddy. It looks like you took a bit of a tumble there." Bruce slipped into the same tone he used to use when his kids were young. Gentle and understanding, as he pressed the handkerchief to the small scrape.

The boy sniffled, tears slipping from his eyes. Bruce was more focused on the way the kid was looking at him. Like he couldn't fathom someone coming to his aid.

That look had Bruce's heart breaking slightly. He's seen a similar look before. The few times he's come to the aid of a hurt child that wasn't used to getting help.

Something no child should ever feel or experience.

"Where's your parents, kiddo?" Bruce asked after a moment of silence from the boy. He had waited until the kid's breathing settled down when the boy's chest stopped pumping so quickly.

Except his question only seemed to bring a new wave of tears to the boy's eyes. The small child just seemed to curl into himself further, ducking his gaze away from Bruce.

And as much as Bruce didn't want it to be true, it was clear the kid didn't have the support he needed. It might not as be as far as some of Bruce's kids have had in the past.

But it was clearly not good.

"That's okay, it's alright. What's your name?" Bruce tried again. The boy's silence was leaving an uncomfortable pit in Bruce's stomach.

"D-Danny..." The boy spoke out his name between sniffles, and Bruce felt a wave of relief hearing the boy speak.

In hindsight, Bruce can see how strange the scene might look. A slightly disheveled man comforting a lone young boy in a park. It wasn't exactly perfect.

But with the lack of reactions from the parents around, Bruce had a feeling the town had an idea who this boy was. The whole situation just didn't feel that right for him.

It took a few more comments before Bruce managed to get the boy to crack a smile. A laugh had felt like breaking a massive wall.

Before long, Bruce had Danny actually like any other boy he's known. Carefree and happy, just like a child should be.

"You didn't tell me your name, mister." Danny had suddenly cut down the relaxed moment they were in. A pout laced the boy's lips as he looked up at Bruce, almost accusatory.

"I'm Bruce. Bruce Wayne." Bruce responded without missing a beat. He knew this might cause problems in the future. He wasn't supposed to be here.

But when his gut is telling him something, he can't just ignore it. He checked his pockets, finding no business cards anywhere. So, Bruce fell back in plan B.

"No matter how long it's been from now, you can come to me for help. Just look for Bruce Wayne in Gotham City, and when you find me... just say Fairbanks sent you."

Bruce wasn't sure if he'll ever see Danny again when he goes back to his own time. Wasn't even sure if this was the same universe as his own. But he couldn't walk away without at least offering the boy help in some way.

When Danny's eyes filled up with tears again, Bruce thought he said something wrong at first. That was until the boy was suddenly clinging to his shoulders in a tight embrace, muttering 'thank you' over and over again.

Bruce felt himself almost close to tears just from that alone. His heart was aching for the small boy. Even if Bruce couldn't help Danny anymore than this, he was hoping the boy would have a better life.

One where he wasn't clinging to a stranger for comfort that family should be providing him.

THWAMP

It didn't hurt, but it did cut their hug short as Bruce suddenly pulled away. Turning his head to see a young girl wielding a wiffle bat, and another young boy standing behind her.

Her purple eyes glared at Bruce like he had done the worst thing in the world. Her grip on the bat was threatening and ready to swing again. Her knuckles white from the tight grip alone.

Maybe leaving this time era might not be as easy as Bruce thought as the young girl probbed him with angry and scolding questions. Not that Bruce could blame her.

He just hoped this hiccup didn't get back to the league. They'd have a field day hearing about how Batman got scolded by a child with a wiffle bat.

°•°•°•°•°•°

Danny wasn't sure if this was the best idea. It's been years since he met Bruce Wayne. So many years. Danny had just been a kid, not even ten, when Bruce had introduced himself.

When he had an adult, actually check in on him. Yet, it was a memory Danny couldn't forget. Maybe it was just the kindness that Bruce radiated.

Or maybe it was when Sam came to his "rescue" near the end. Regardless, it was cemented in his mind. A core memory that Danny cared with him through the years.

Now, here he was, roughly seven years later. Standing in front of a manor that put even Sam's place to shame.

It took a lot of courage for Danny to knock. Barely a second later, an old man answered the door, an accent Danny was certain Bruce hadn't had.

A stuttered explaination of being here to see Bruce Wayne, that the man knew him, barely left Danny's mouth before the old man ushered him inside.

The man, Alfred, told Danny to wait by the door before vanishing further into the manor. It took a lot for Danny to not just vanish.

Being half ghost nowadays had its quirks, Danny could just vanish, and no one but Alfred would know. But he couldn't.

It had taken a lot for Danny to make the journey to Gotham City. He hadn't even thought to look up a current picture of Bruce either. Which was probably a big mistake on his end.

Danny didn't even know if Bruce was offering this kind of help. But Danny didn't have many allies to turn to. He needed help.

Not just for himself but for his family. For Amity Park. He couldn't be afforded the ability to run away. Not now.

Danny felt all the air leave his lungs when Bruce entered the area. The man didn't look a day older than what Danny remembered. Bruce looked a bit more put together, not like he had just jumped out of a moving car, but it was Bruce.

"Uhm... I don't know if you remember me. But my name's Danny... we met when I was a kid." Danny started trying to explain himself before Bruce could speak. He recognized that confused look anywhere, and Danny didn't have the guts to go through with this if Bruce asked any questions.

"You told me if I ever needed help, to come find you. Bruce Wayne in Gotham City... you, uh, told me to tell you Fairbanks sent me?"

That came out more like a question than Danny would have liked. But it did ease his nerves a bit as he watched Bruce's slightly confused expression turn to alarm and surprise.

Danny wasn't sure what this would do. If Bruce could truly help him. But he was out of options. Just seeing Bruce recognize something he said was enough to calm the teen's anxiety slightly.

"I'm sorry, Danny... I don't remember you. But I believe you and I want to help you. Come inside, have a seat, and tell me what's going on."

That response was enough to have Danny's eyes fill with tears. His chest filling with a sense of hope he hadn't felt in weeks now.

Maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

[dedlit]

[itriedwritingandhereiam]

Hot Take: Both Marinette AND Adrien would be coffee addicts. We know Marinette does a lot in a day but have you guys seen Adriens schedule? Ain't no way he's running on sheer will power.

So now I wanna see a fic where they're both sleep deprived and one quest for caffeine with their besties ( Alya and Nino for canon compliance sake ) trying to make sure they don't over dose on coffee. We can even throw in a little Chloe being disgusted by the black coffee Adrien is chugging.

It goes a little like this

After a particularly late akuma and busy day before

Marinette: * struggling to keep her eyes open in class

Adrien (who had Natalie stop somewhere for a cup) : you want some ?

Adrien: * slides cup across

Marinette : * too tired to register shit

Marinette: mhm

Marinette: *takes a sip

Alya: *watching the exchange intently

Lunchtime

Adrien: Hey Marinette you wanna go for some coffee? I need a pick me up and you look like you need one too

Marinette : * still groggy

Marinette: sure

And this continues till their coffee dates become regular and Marinette gets more and more comfortable with Adrien. She brings pastry, he pays for coffee, they both spend time together and boost energy. It's a win win situation

[justaz]

I’m not a fan of modern/au fics, I prefer canon divergence/fix it fics/canon compliant but (don’t judge) I just had this really strong desire to read a merthur fic in modern times where merlin was arthur’s sugar baby. Not like explicit or sexual, but just merlin getting spoiled by billionaire arthur pendragon while uther seethes in the background. Not all of these details are necessary but why the fuck couldn’t I find anything?? Is there a severe lack of sugar daddy arthur in this fandom or did I just miss that category horribly while browsing ao3???????

[optiwashere]

It's been a while since I've sat down and looked at it, but my core Asheera/Shadowheart series is now over 250,000 words long. That's not even all of it, either. When the hell did that happen? The past year and a half of exploring the girls has been wild, and I can't wait to write even more fluff, angst, and smut.

I mean... come on, look at them! They're fucking adorable. Don't you want to read about a half-orc paladin/lesbian multiclass and her beloved cleric?

Art of Asheera/Shadowheart by @/ geezmarty

[artofalyksandr]

Not Yet Corpses

My piece for the 2024 @aftgbigbang! First chapter drops tomorrow and I’m so excited for it!

[mythmerth]

I just thought of a concept involving merlin and the cold iron shackles that cut off magic inside the user, cause that really intrigues me.

Merlin is magic. when his magic is cut off, does that mean he’s no longer able to use it entirely? can he still feel it inside him? can he overpower the shackles? I love all the interpretations, but this is one I haven’t quite seen yet-

no matter what merlin does, there’s always magic imbued in it. it’s not something that he emits like he normally does since the shackles are restraining it, but through physical touch that magic is still coming out of him because it still is him. he’s a conduit almost. like a magic crystal, a magic filled entity that can’t do magic but is buzzing with it. so whenever someone touches him, his magic rushes through them; it can’t help it, it desires somewhere to go since it can’t be manipulated like it normally is. so for things like healing, say he’s shackled but is trying to heal someone through bandaging or stitching. his magic may be entirely unintentionally and perhaps even without his knowledge helping them when he lays hands on them. and maybe he can learn to manipulate it, eventually being able to fill his magic with his intent even if he can’t cast it. for example, if someone lays hands on him to hurt him, they receive his magic running through them as a burning sensation.

i don’t know man. the concept of magic restriction on someone who embodies the magic of the earth- i feel like it can be done in many ways, it’s so interesting to explore

[adrift-in-thyme]

May I request Fairy Time and Hyrule doing some wing care or teaching the others how to help them take care of their wings?

Yes you absolutely may! Tysm anon!! I hope you don’t mind a bit of angst with all the softness

CW for one mention of blood

———————————————————————-

“How long has it been since you did this?”

Hyrule runs gentle fingers over Time’s wings. They spread grandly on either side, hues of soft greens and delicate blue-violets reflecting the sun’s smiling rays. Usually, they are colored in bold crimson and royal blue, which clash like swords on a battlefield. But today they take on a more tired appearance. Faded, they have begun to droop discouragingly.

Time has never admitted it, but Hyrule has eyes. It doesn’t take a genius to realize that his wings change when something is wrong. More often than not, they herald the disturbance before it can truly become known. A flash of forest green and the next thing he knows Time is fading into the mist in search of solitude.

…or collapsing in the middle of the trail.

Now, Time hums, sounding distracted. His hands lie in his lap. Absently, he twists his wedding band back and forth so quickly it is liable to rub a rash into his skin.

(Another nervous habit of his Hyrule has picked up on.)

“I’m not certain,” he admits, after a moment of quiet contemplation. The words are spoken with an air of something so desperate to be flippant. “I’ve been occupied with other matters.”

Hyrule blows out a weary sigh.

Other matters like worrying about all of us.

True, things have been strained amongst the heroes since Twilight’s injury. And as unofficial leader — and the rancher’s ancestor — Time has borne the brunt of it all. But still….

Malon had warned him about this.

“Oh, he just doesn’t take care of himself.” She had whispered during a visit to the ranch months ago after Time had fallen asleep at the dinner table. Head resting on her shoulder, he slept far deeper than he had in days.

“I’m not askin’ y’all to hover or anything. Heaven knows you’ve got enough on your plates as it is. But…just check in once in a while, will ya, loves? I don’t want him to lose himself while trying to take care of everyone else.”

Hyrule can’t help but feel that he has failed. The events of the past weeks have left their mark upon him too. Exhaustion has hounded him at every turn, dragging him down so heavily that he has nearly collapsed beneath it. And yet, he had noticed the signs. The quietness, the reservation, the increase in snappishness…the fear. But he had done nothing about them.

It wasn’t until Time had asked if he had taken the time to care for his own wings that he realized he hadn’t seen the older hero settle down to tend to his own lately.

He winces as he weaves the spell into some of the worse areas, mainly gathered around a large scar. These large wings, normally so bright with magic and life, have begun to lose their glimmer. Frightened, they shrivel, curling in one themselves to shield from the light.

With wings like this, flying will soon become agonizing.

Would he have tried to anyway? Hyrule doesn’t want to know the answer to that question.

Solitude can be harmful. He knows that far too well. But sometimes he wonders just how much of his life Time has spent alone to end up believing it is the only way to get by. Even after this family they have formed along the paths of hardship, even after Malon, it seems to be the road most familiar to the hero.

“You can always ask me, you know.”

He has been gentle this entire time, even more so than he is with his own wings. But with this part, he is extra cautious. He threads the healing magic into Time’s veins with the delicacy of one handling glass.

“I know it’s hard to take care of your wings yourself. And I know it’s even harder to trust others to do it for you. But…” He swallows as his fingertips graze the scar.

What had occurred to create such a chasm? To his knowledge, Time has never spoken of the event. Sometimes, he wonders if he ever will.

“You trust me…right, old man?”

Time looks up, fingers stilling at last.

“Of course, I do, traveler,” he says, softly. “I don’t mean to make it seem like I don’t.”

“Then, let me help you. Please?”

“I’m allowing you to now, aren’t I?”

The traveler huffs. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. It doesn’t mean I can’t tease.”

There is a smile in his voice, and Hyrule is glad of it. Even still, if the hero believes he’s going to escape without a proper reply, he is sorely mistaken. If Hyrule is known for anything, it’s his infinite stubbornness.

“Come on, old man,” he urges, softly. “Promise me you’ll ask someone to help tend to your wings when you need it. It doesn’t even have to be me. Just ask someone, please.”

Time’s wings are beginning to improve now. Threads of vibrant red glow from beneath the green. Like blood on new cloth, they spread, engulfing the other colors. He watches, slightly awed.

“I love you, Time,” he murmurs. “I don’t want you enduring pain just cause you don’t want to be a burden.”

For a long moment, Time says nothing. The only sounds are the subdued jingles of the spell twined about Hyrule’s fingers and the harmony of their breaths. It is peaceful in a pensive sort of way.

Then, “alright,” he says in a voice taut with emotion. “But only if you allow me to help you when you need it. Don’t think I don’t see how you struggle to remember your own welfare. You are too selfless for your own good.”

Hyrule chuckles. “Well, I could say the same about you.”

A small smile lifts Time’s lips. “Such is the path of the hero, I suppose.”

“Yeah.” The traveler’s gaze goes to the scar once more. “I guess.”

Silence pads in on soft, silken paws and settles down cozily. Time goes back to rotating his ring, though the motions are slower, calmer this time. Hyrule turns his full attention to finishing his task. Above them, the sun smiles, and Time’s wings transfer it in panes of pale red upon the blades of grass.

“Traveler?” Time’s voice is so quiet it is hardly above a whisper. It nudges aside the quiet, murmurs with the wind.

When the hero is in his fairy form, it is as though he is of the nature that surrounds them; as at home amongst the towering trees and great sky, stones and moss and gurgling streams, as the fleet-footed deer or furtive foxes.

Hyrule looks up, head cocked in question. “Yeah?”

“Thank you. And…” Time smiles, so soft it erases years of anguished hardship from his visage. “I love you too.”

The traveler smiles.

[lurkinginnernarrator]

tiny little miniscule snippet from my Shen twins demonic cultivator au

"Right as Liu Qingge was about to enquire, once again, if Shen Qingqiu actually knew where he was going, the man whirled around and with handsigns basically told Qi Qingqi and by proxy Liu Qingge to shut up."

[roseofthewind]

Okay but the idea of Furina falling in love with Neuvillette first kills me. It would be within that long 400-500 year span, and Furina would just be like nope. I can't do this. I can't confide in him anyway. So she bottles up her feelings and puts the bottle in the deepest drawer of her heart and just ignores it.

And Neuvillette, kindhearted as he is, is also so emotionally repressed that he does not realize he's been in love with Furina this whole time until after the events of the archon quest. By which point Furina assumes he doesn't even like her anymore as a friend because she lied to him for centuries. Do you see my pain.