#but it is very much no Canon Compliant lol

[lemurballing]

this needs an update lol. i’ll write out more when ive actually settled info but i’ve made up a bunch more aus to add to the list:

‘danny phantom’ au - tangle, unlike the others, doesn’t fully restabilize after the eggperial city was destroyed. fortunately, she can turn intangible basically at will! (technically works more like togata mirio’s Permeation quirk, but ‘danny phantom au’ rolls off the tongue better). she doesnt like randomly being ‘useless’ and intangible :)

apocalypse bleed au - i had a weirdfun dream and now i’m trying to capture it as an au. future au where the world splits in two halves, sonic and tails (and eggman) are MIA, and the boundaries between worlds have been damaged so much, things and even people from other worlds are falling in. also tangle is a tinkerer (this is a big part of the au)

weretangle au - branches off from canon at an undecided point: sonic and tangle are hanging out and wind up getting asked to investigate some weird seismic activity. they do, and… a giant pit in the ground opens before them, flooding them with dark gaia energy and dropping them both into a deep cave system far underneath the surface. sonic has to help tangle acclimate to her wereform as they both escape and reach daylight, but even after that, they’ll still transform every night until dark gaia - who is beginning to awaken in a fitful sleep nearing its fated awakening year - is sealed and put asleep again.

tloz au - tangle as the resident link :) (she is not named link) - tloz elements woven into the idwverse as history become present, with tangle holding triforce of courage, jewel with wisdom, and clutch with power. their own powers only awaken once all three of them have grown into their aspect of the triforce, and thus begins a power struggle where clutch is trying to amass followers and take out his competition, while tangle and jewel work together with far less knowledge on what’s happening and the nature of these weird triangle symbols that glow for them and give jewel powers. i also really want to design sonic versions of a bunch of links (not all of them!! unless i have a lot of ideas)

zombot!tangle au is already listed, but i’ve been tweaking it xd

omnitrix au - a couple years before idw begins, tangle’s out a bit late when she sees a shooting star… which isn’t a shooting star when it crashes to the planet in front of her holding a weird watch, which then leaps onto her arm/tail (havent decided) and won’t come off! with it, tangle can become 10 different aliens, each with their own advantages and sometimes disadvantages compared to her own normal self. she goes through a lot of ben 10 OS plot stuff & faces off against vilgax still before idw begins, so by the time she joins sonic’s friendgroup she’s got way more experience with weirdness and crazy, and is less of a rookie.

digimon frontier au - hashing out a sort-of interpretation of digimon frontier with some digimon 02 elements, but the human kids all replaced with sonic characters, and spirit evolutions with armor evolutions, and the plot adjusted to follow the different personalities at play. not v developed

lego monkie kid au - mostly just playing with visual design (lets see if i remember to add the sketches before i post this), might figure out a mostly lore-compliant way to make tangle another sorta mystical monkey. or potentially making her ‘a demon with the powers of sun wukong’s staff’, also pending a lore-compliance check unless i stop caring about lmk/jttw compliance. i think she and mei and mk would be great friends :)

dryad!au - i’ve drawn her before, an au tangle that’s essentially a nature spirit; the only of her kind to walk the forest she lives in, with leaves and vines sprouting from her body as hair. she communicates with plants and has a generally friendly/neutral relation with animals, and that’s all she worries about, until this weird thing that is not plant nor animal but very close to tangle herself appears - an android, a ‘whisper’. she is built for destruction, she says, but cannot return to her superiors. instead, tangle lets her stay and shows her how her world works, how to live without worrying about orders. i think the forest eventually gets bombed by military or whatever, either trying to recover whisper & getting attacked, or intentionally trying to destroy her to avoid the enemy getting ahold of her. they accidentally draw a target on their backs for the rage of the forest spirit whose home they unduly destroyed, and whisper herself’s ire.

bastion au - tangle inserted as the Kid/protagonist, whisper as Zia, dunno who to put as Rucks or Zulf ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ this is mostly because i want to put Bastion in front of people’s noses in the hopes they will play this wonderful awesome game if they see blorbos with it. this worked for me when i bought ffxv in order to understand a kh fic better and it became a game i loved besides.

^ i’m still working on building these AUs up, but if anyone’s interested in a certain one, asks make me very excited and want to write more and share :)

tloz au, zombot au rework, apocalypse bleed au, and omnitrix au (in that order) are the ones with the most development/ideas to pursue

Full Tangle AU List (aka the Tangleverse)

Finally it’s compiled!!! I have here for you a list of 22 different Tangles for you to browse and rotate in your brain :3 A bunch of these come with content for other characters, though, so if you’re not as Tangle-focused as I am you could probably find something neat to look at.

Each listing is entered under its designated AU name, if there is a relevant link to the AU’s original source it’ll be linked within the title, and I’ll add a short summary or blurb about the Tangle or AU as a whole. I’ll also make distinctions for if an AU has art.

None of these AUs are my own creations, unless they’ve got a ~Leori signature after them - follow the link to their individual creators! In the case of my own AUs, I usually don’t have much content for them because I don’t know what to say, so feel free to send in asks. Or for the ones with very little content, do whatever you’d like with them, they’re basically open prompts.

The numbers don’t matter, they’re just for tallying up how many there are. I’m not ranking these.

This is long, so I’m putting everything after the table of contents under a ‘read more’. ○ Swap AUs ○ Future AUs ○ General AUs ○ Crossover AUs ○ Jokesy AUs

Keep reading

[creativly-anxious]

Just some Shitty Teens getting into some Mischief

[revvywevvy]

ive been into time loops lately idk what it is about them that just has me so. RRRRRRRRR.

anyways this is myrelle/c-311 and shes a silly little LOSER who got backrooms'd into the pressure universe from classic era roblox and is now stuck in a time loop of which there seems to be no end (spoiler the escape criteria is freeing everybody from the blacksite like its some un/dert/ale pacifist type shit not that anybody involved knows that yet) and she and sebby are friends besties even(?) friendsies.

backstory blurb transcript/more complete entity(/monster) logs under the cut

{ Backstory transcript }

'C-311 is a resident not of this reality. A Robloxian citizen of the early 2000's, C-311 had one day tripped and no-clipped from one world to the next by chance. Mere days after entering this new realm, C-311 was arrested and falsely convicted of murder, having been mistaken for the true culprit and sentenced harshly. 93 days into her sentence, her cellmate forged her signature for 'The Expendable protocol', not wanting to partake themselves but also wishing to be rid of the 'nuisance' in their cell. Having minimal option and seeing the perks of success, she ended up accepting her circumstances and departing with Urbanshade employees, hoping to perhaps find the time to find a way back home. She would come to regret this decision, as she would be killed early on into the expedition. Yet, she would then have a strange 'dream' post-mortem before awakening back on that day, just hours prior to the expedition- with all memory of the beings that lurked intact. Not even this knowledge could quell the ever-present terror. An un-ending nightmare, things would merely repeat. However… she would soon learn that even escape proved futile. Luckily for her, she wasn't the only one trapped, memories of the incessant loop untouched.'

{ More Complete (Relationship?) Logs }

Z-13 { The Saboteur / Sebastian Solace } : 'Sebastian viewed her like any other expendable initially, however, became suspicious upon experiencing a time-reset of sorts upon her first death. This suspicion grew with the deaths, him quickly linking the time-resets to the deaths. This suspicion then became coupled with annoyance and irritation as these deaths intervened with his search for an escape from the Blacksite- due to any research he'd gain being revoked upon reset, essentially sending him back to square one every time. He did NOT like how this seeming little coward, someone who was nothing like the typical criminals who passed, was the difference between progress and a total halt in any plans. Even worse, there was nothing he could do about it. If he killed her himself- a reset. If he tried to snatch her up, her PDG would be detonated immediately. If she escaped, he'd most likely be trapped forever. As nice as a challenge was, this was not that. It was just impossible!

However, a good chunk of this irritation was quelled upon finally meeting her face to face. (Not all of it, obviously.) She was quick to recognize him from those post-mortem 'dreams', and upon learning that he was also privy to the time loop became immensely apologetic. She was thankful for the information he'd been giving her regarding the monsters lurking, and to his surprise, was more than willing to turn over ALL of his data scavenged, even if there was nothing in return. Though, it was rather pointless if any deaths reset everything anyway. He pondered that he could keep the data if she lived, but if she escaped the Blacksite, then, again, his time could very well run out just as quickly as she would depart. C-311 felt awful knowing Sebastian was trapped down there, and was stuck in such an impossible situation- and naively decided that she wanted to help free him and anyone else down there that could be helped. Not the brightest light-bulb, if she couldn't immediately realize there would be no safe way back down for her once she left. He wasn't sure how to take the hopeful declaration that there was always a way. Oh, how naive. Knowing he couldn't kill her anyway, he bitterly resigned that his future escape just became much more difficult, opting to send her on her way. When the crystal was eventually retrieved and the power shut off, his bitterness returned. The power eventually returned, and he braced for the worst. Yet, that bitterness was replaced with shock when, soon enough, another reset occurred. There was no death, this time.

The next time Sebastian and C-311 encountered one another, the expendable was in a frenzy, frantically explaining that even ESCAPE ended in a reset. He was flabbergasted at this. What the hell was going on??? What did any of that even mean? Why was this happening? However- this could be a good thing. This meant that maybe, he had time! If there were no consequences save for a reset upon death or escape for C-311, they could use that to their advantage! The expendable was quick to jump on-board, offering to help Sebastian any way he could in his plans to escape. From there, their alliance began, going on strong even if there were ups and downs to the situation at hand. A lot of experimentation had to be done as to what they could get away with before C-311 would die, or how far she could go post-escape before resetting. Though, as time went on, the two grew from mere allies to friends.'

Sebastian is intrigued about this little weirdo. Its a miracle to him that he hasn't been nabbed for experimentation by Urbanshade. Her antlers seem to phase through walls and ceilings, as though they aren't a tangible object. Yet, they're obviously solid to the touch. She can 'glitch' on and through various surfaces (her words), but only at certain corners and wall setups- and depending on the 'glitch' she ends up briefly stunned in some capacity. Even stranger, she can 'equip' and 'unequip' items as if its a game, and if done fast enough and facing a thin wall makes her clip right through. And, back home, people could apparently 'reset' and 'respawn', rendering death mostly useless. He's glad she's smart enough not to demonstrate anything outside of SCRAMBLER range, knowing that they'd probably be taken for experimentation if caught on CCTV. She can make computer noises and other strange SFX, but it seems he (and one other person are)/is the only one(s) who can notice it (and can somehow understand her?)

Oddities and quirks aside, she's one of the more respectful expendables, one who is nowhere near as irritating as the rest. She actually respects his boundaries, is cooperative, and kind. Even if she's on the more sensitive side, she handles his sass and snark well, and has a silly streak that mirrors his energy. Plus, when she appears with other expendables, she actually tries to hold them back from harassing Sebastian. Of course, you can't save everyone, but he does his best and is somehow mostly unbothered any time Seb ends up killing one (Perhaps the time loop is getting to her head?). He had given up on most people, but C-311 is like a weird, endearing little light in the dark.

Z-779 { p.AI.nter } : Another individual C-311 wishes to help free. Upon discovering the documents regarding him, she was mortified at what she learned, and enraged on his behalf. Due to a lack of recollection regarding the time loop, cooperation is made extremely difficult. Sebastian would need to tell p.AI.nter of C-311's assistance every time a reset occurred, which became extremely redundant at some point. C-311 opts to just try her best to evade death from fake doors, speaker hijacking and turrets as a result. She does not encounter p.AI.nter face to face often.

Z-96 { "Good People" } : C-311 vaguely pities the workers that compose this mass of flesh, knowing they were consumed without remorse or chance to escape. However, due to the fact that many people smashed into this glob were Urbanshade employees, her sympathy is low. She is glad they choose to hide in fake rooms- such a monster is terrifying to her.

Z-367 { Pandemonium } : A monster that, understandably, fills C-311 with immense fear. Any time she encounters Z-367, she departs drained and in shambles. Having to fight off such a thing in the suffocating confines of a locker never fails to inflict extreme anxiety and paranoia.

Z-317 { Eyefestation } : A monster that somehow does not faze C-311 much. Knowing she is in another world, she is not as susceptible to any manipulation via vocal mimicking telepathy- though there are times she feels herself about to break to this. Due to the communication possible through this telepathy, he tries to soothe Z-317 with thoughts that he is not their enemy, nor does he want them harmed- but this seldom works as they are too focused on revenge for their experimentation. On the occasion that this does work, Z-317 merely watches C-311 go through the room with intrigue, though she does not look into their eyes either way. Nobody is immune to radiation!

Z-90 { Wall Dwellers } : A monster that fills C-311 with immense fear and terror. Being the paranoid type, this entity is one of her absolute worst nightmares. The mere idea of something being in the walls- watching, stalking- it fills her with dread. She tends to stay glued to Sebastian any time she reaches him due to this, needing long breathers to cope with its mere existence in the facility dragging her down. In the presence of other expendables, she copes much, MUCH better. Loneliness is her kryptonite, mentally- but the paranoia Z-90 inflicts makes her less susceptible to attacks due to her constantly watching her back.

Z-V06 { Void Mass } : A monster that fills C-311 with unease. The idea of being trapped in a locker with those things, digested alive, is horrifying. She's cautious around lockers due to them, especially when alone- so she is mostly safe on that front.

Z-283 { The Angler } : A monster that inflicts anxiety. However, due to its lack of sight, evasion is easy enough. She is careful to avoid straying too far from lockers.

[ Froger ] : Same as the default Angler- but with an added nervousness at her rebounds. C-311 stays glued to lockers until her 3rd round, always.

[ Chainsmoker ] : Same as default Angler- but with an extreme added anxiety due to the green smoke it spews, akin to that of Paranoia's Box. She tries to be as patient as possible with it, but its hard when the smoke triggers her fight or flight so quickly when in lockers.

[ Pinkie ] : Same as the default Angler- but with an added anxiety due to the lack of warning signs. C-311 does not like straying far from safety solely because of her. Even a moment out in the open could mean death from her.

[ Blitz ] : Same as the default Angler- but with an added anxiety due to just how fast the damn thing is.

S-Q { Squiddles } : For some reason, C-311 finds all instances of S-Q cute. Yes, even when agitated (most of the time.) Of course she's going to startle and jump if she's caught off guard by one, but something about them is just so... silly, to her.

Vultus Limunaria { Searchlights } : She dreads any encounter with the Searchlights, especially following the Ridge. C-311 isn't the best swimmer, so you could guess why- as you'd need quick reflexes to hide if its lights approached. She has been hooked by it once- and it was one of the most painful experiences she'd had down there (if you exclude any deaths from Z-367, Z-90 or the Z-V06.)

Z-538 { Abstract Art } : It freaked her out initially, but upon learning they were completely harmless, she now merely vibes with them.

Z-432 { Limited-Time Imaginary Friend } : As nice as having a friend would be down there, that is just NOT it. Her disconnected and random statements trigger her paranoia, even if the words have nothing to do with her environment. No matter how gentle or soothing a voice may be, being told something's coming when nothing is is a gut wrenching experience- especially if you suffer from paranoia. One time using the remote was more than enough.

Mr. Lopee : An entity she has not encountered or noticed the presence of before. Despite his potential involvement in the grand scheme of things, she is left clueless.

Styx : An entity she has only ever encountered once. Upon opening the door and being jumpscared by it, she not only screamed so loud that a nearby Z-V06 was practically startled from its locker, but she stumbled backwards, tripped, and fell through a massive hole in the room, down a connected cavern and to her death. One of his more embarrassing deaths. (And as much as Sebastian could or would want to mock them for said death, he probably would have met the same fate had he encountered the damn thing so close to en environmental hazard)

J-123-4 { The Man from the Mindscape } : An entity C-311 has never encountered before.

[charmac]

omg your tags on that headcanon post resonate so much with me. i love reading fsnficiton but it is very obviously whether someone is writing about the source material or playing dolls (which is an analogy i ALSO use look at us. look at us.) and while. full respect to playing dolls that shit ruled as kids still rules now probably like have fun and be yourself godspeed but it is always weirdly dissonant for those two things to coexist without clear distinction from each other. all this to say i AGREE

"it is always weirdly dissonant for those two things to coexist without clear distinction from each other," is exactly the point here for real.

There's nothing bad about taking characters and doing whatever you want with them and having fun, because you can make some really great and creative things that way. It's when people fail to be able to recognise that what they're doing is completely removed from canon that it gets frustrating, especially for anything still actively being made..

Because new canon content is 9/10 times gonna build off previous canon, and there are a lot of fandoms nowadays that exist heavily in the level 3 and beyond space of headcanons that continually act like new, official content not being fanon-compliant is disappointing or problematic, and that people who like the canon content and want to discuss it are somehow the ones that don't belong in the fandom.

Honestly at this point it's often hard to tell if people who complain endlessly about the canon of the thing they're a fan of is due to an actual inability to recognise when popular headcanons are a 3 or 4 or if there's a genuine chunk of people in fandoms who legit dislike their source material and got into the material and/or a character exclusively due to fanon creations and ideas

[cwarscars]

i think one really important thing i wanna note w/ my portrayal of heid is that i never want to 'woodbify' him. i do not want people to feel sorry for him.

i write him as having had hardships. he's lost loved ones brutally, he's been the victim of torture and war ( as much as he brings it about others ) but he is entirely in control of his own destiny, decisions, opinions, beliefs and attitude.

he's been through tragedy and awfulness / horror, yes.

but it's his decision to respond with anger, hate, vicsciouness etc.

i dont want people to ever think that i'm making him 'soft' or 'gentle' or 'tragic'. he's not really to be sympathised with. obviously, your muse can & like, anyone can sympathise with a character, that's fine. but i don't want people to ever think im attempting to justify his behaviour / actions.

i see it less as a justification and more of an explanation / exploration. this is WHY he's the way he is, but it isn't necessarily right. nor is right for him to be this way.

you can go through tragedy and come out a better person. heid didn't. he came out a worse person. that was his choice. he's a bad dude.

[cold-neon-ocean]

.

[sayakxmi]

Homestuck | Aranea Serket

Your name is Aranea Serket, and you…

You are dead.

But before you were dead, you loved reading. You loved stories of adventures and heroes, who came from the unlikeliest of places and saved the day through their wits and skills. You loved stories of traveling the world on a ship. Of living above the law, while upholding your own sense of justice.

Your name is Aranea Serket, and you used to dream about becoming a hero and a pirate when you grow up.

You cannot do any of this anymore. You are dead.

Your name is Aranea Serket, and you could have been all these things. You have learnt of a world where you have, but this you isn't the same you that you are now.

You cannot change that. You are dead.

Your name is Aranea Serket, and you are the definition of a chatterbox. You love knowing and you love sharing the knowledge, but no one likes to listen.

Your name is Aranea Serket, and not even your own descendant wants to listen to you.

Your name is Aranea Serket, and you are annoying. Your best friend sees you as an overly-talkative windbag, and ditches you when a different, cooler cobaltblood appears in front of her. Your ex-matesprit, too, found you too much to handle and left you. All of your other friends avoid you like a plague.

Your name is Aranea Serket, and you are a dead, forgotten, scorned girl from a planet no one cares about anymore. There's no one to miss you, while you miss everyone.

Your name is Aranea Serket, and no one cried for you when you first died. They threw your body into the cocoon and said nothing when you came back.

Your name is Aranea Serket, and there was once a you that was cared and loved, and cried for when you died, but this isn't the you that you are now.

Your name is Aranea Serket, and you could have been everything.

Your name is Aranea Serket, and you are nothing.

[griseldabanks]

How about 38 for Sam and Bucky?

Let Me Count the Ways ask game

Prompt: "Stay with me for a while."

Note: I already filled this prompt for Kara and Alice, so I decided this would just be another scene tacked onto the last thing I wrote involving Sam and Bucky.

BOOM.

Rat-a-tat-tat.

Boom. BOOM.

Whizz, bang, rat-a-tat-tat-tat.

“Riley! Riley, no, look out—“

Riley turning his head. Their eyes meeting in a flash of brilliant white light. An arc of lightning, stabbing downward.

Not Riley. Steve. Steve, suspended in the air for a moment, arms outstretched, then tumbling down, down, down....

“No!”

Sam jerked upright, his own scream still echoing in his ears. Where. Where was he, which way was up, where was Steve, he was falling, Sam had to catch him, but where were his wings, he was falling—

With a thump, he crashed to the ground. But it wasn't sand or dirt or stone, it was...soft. Carpet.

He threw a hand out, and it smacked painfully against something wooden. He groped in the darkness. A bed. Blankets spilling over the side, tangled around his legs.

Oh. A dream.

A white flash lit up the whole room in an instant, followed immediately by a deafening crash that made him jump out of his skin. Heart pounding, adrenaline screaming through his veins, he raised trembling hands to press against his eyes.

It didn't help. All he saw, projected against the inside of his eyelids like a movie, was Steve. One moment walking towards him, drenched from the rain, a goat cradled in his strong arms. A blinding flash, and he was flat on the ground. Not moving. Not breathing.

With a curse, Sam surged to his feet and marched out of his room, letting the door bang against the wall. He headed into the living room, trying to ground himself in the present. He wasn't in Afghanistan. He wasn't out there in the fields with a storm howling around them. He was in an apartment in Birnin Zana, provided to them while they waited for Steve to get a clean bill of health.

Right. Because Steve wasn't dead. Sam had saved him. He was alive, he was fine. They'd taken him to the hospital as soon as the lightning died down, and the doctors thought he was out of danger, but wanted to keep him under observation that night. And so he and Bucky had reluctantly come to this apartment, with every assurance that they'd be the first to know if anything happened.

Another flash of lightning broke Sam's train of thought, and he flinched again as thunder rumbled so loudly he could hear the glasses in the kitchen cupboard rattling against each other. Sam paced up and down a bare stretch of floor between the living room and kitchen, trying to breathe but failing abysmally.

Because what if something had happened? What if something was happening right now, what if Steve was flatlining and the doctors were rushing to him and no one had called them yet because they were too busy and it wasn't like Sam would be able to do anything just like always and yet again his brother would die and he would be helpless and alone and—

“Sam?”

The lights turned on in a sudden blaze that made Sam jump...but they remained on, a steady amber glow so different from the lightning. In the doorway to the other bedroom, hand still touching the light switch, stood Bucky. He'd changed out of his Wakandan robes and into sweatpants and a T-shirt. His missing arm looked weirder that way.

Another crash of thunder. Sam's nerves were too frazzled to even attempt to hide the flinch.

Bucky just looked at him, expression not changing. Then he walked over to the coffee table, pulled off his bracelet of kimoyo beads, and tapped one of them. A holographic image appeared in the air over the table, of what looked like a cardiograph. A red line moved smoothly through the center of the image, spiking up at regular intervals every second or so. A heartbeat at rest.

“Is that...?”

“Real time,” Bucky said, understanding Sam's breathless question. He sat down on the couch, gazing at the heart monitor. “He's asleep.”

Sam found himself sinking down onto the other end of the couch, swiping a hand down his sweaty face. He focused on trying to draw a deep breath without gasping. It was easier now he could watch Steve's heartbeat.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, watching those steady spikes. Sam timed his breaths in and out to those beats, until three beats passed before each inhale and exhale. His own heart rate was still faster than Steve's, but it wasn't galloping along like it had before.

Glancing over, Sam noticed that Bucky seemed to be doing the same thing. Focused on the same rhythm, they were breathing in tandem. Looked like Steve was still keeping them all in sync, even asleep and out of sight.

Then he looked at Bucky a little closer and noticed the exhausted furrows in Bucky's brow, the way his eyelids drooped. “You slept at all?” he muttered.

Bucky shook his head, not taking his eyes from the heart monitor.

“You should,” Sam said automatically. Old habits died hard.

“Tried,” Bucky said. “Just ended up watching this instead. Kind of like it used to be...back when he'd get sick all the time. I'd sit by his bed and just watch him breathe. It was like...if I closed my eyes, he might slip away. So I stayed awake.”

Sam nodded. It was usually hard to imagine Steve had ever been skinny and weak like in the old pictures...but on a night like this, when he couldn't stop thinking about Steve lying spread-eagled on the ground, not breathing....

Another crack of thunder. Sam flinched, but made himself take a deep breath and keep watching Steve's heartbeat.

“Is that because of what happened today?”

Sam looked over and found Bucky watching him. There was no judgment in his expression, only understanding. Of all people, Bucky knew exactly what it was like to deal with panic attacks and bad nightmares.

Then Sam realized he'd never told Bucky about Riley. He'd told Steve early on, but they didn't talk about it much; the subject was too painful. And even after Bucky had become a part of Sam's life, there were few occasions where the two of them were alone and in need of filling the silence. Once he'd discovered the difficulty Sam had with thunderstorms, Steve usually made an effort to distract Sam on nights like this.

But now Steve was in the hospital, asleep and out of reach. And the only one here was Bucky.

With a heavy sigh, Sam slumped back against the couch cushions. “I wasn't the only one chosen for the Falcon Program,” he finally said. If Bucky was confused at this apparent change of subject, he didn't say anything. “Riley was with me from the beginning, and he was the only other one who didn't drop out for one reason or another during training. We just...clicked, you know? Did everything together, even when we were off duty. He was like...like....” He tried to say it, but the words jumbled together in his throat, and he couldn't even swallow. Usually, it wasn't this hard. It had been years. But tonight...it was like he'd had to say goodbye only yesterday.

“Like a brother?” Bucky's voice filled the silence ringing in Sam's ears, and somehow he could breathe again.

Nodding, Sam closed his eyes to shut out the flashes of light behind the curtains at the window. He tried to remember Riley's smile, his laugh. It was probably just because of the late hour and his lack of sleep, but all he could see in his mind's eye was Bucky beaming as he ran over to greet them. All he could hear was Steve's belly laugh as they played with the kids in the village.

“What happened?” Bucky asked quietly.

Clearing his throat, Sam opened his eyes and stared fixedly at the heart monitor. “They sent us to Afghanistan. We did some good work there. Made a great team. Just Riley and me, saving lives. Saving each other. All we'd ever wanted to do. And then it was over.” The pain in his chest wasn't as insistent as it had been in the early days, but it still dug down just as deep. He thought he'd rather have one of the Dora Milaje stab him with one of their spears.

“It was a night mission. Nothing special. Just...he went left when he shoulda gone right. And then he was gone. And I couldn't....” His throat closed again, and he had to bite his lip to keep it from trembling.

“I'm sorry,” Bucky whispered.

He didn't say anything else. There was nothing else to say, really. But Sam appreciated it more than he could express.

The silence between them was easy as they sat there, not looking at each other. The thunder moved on. The lightning died down. The catch in Sam's chest steadily eased, until he could breathe deeply again, and his heart rate was almost as slow as Steve's.

Sam yawned so wide he could feel his jaw crack. After all the excitement of the day before, and then the sickening rush of adrenaline from the panic attack, he felt completely spent. Everything ached, crying out for the bed in the next room...but would he sleep? Or would he just lie there, staring into the darkness and trying not to think about the dream?

“Guess we should go back to bed,” Bucky mumbled, pushing himself to his feet. “Steve will bite our heads off if we pull an all-nighter.”

“Wait!” The word fell from Sam's lips before he realized he'd opened his mouth, and his cheeks grew warm as Bucky turned around in surprise. Sam looked away and mumbled, “Stay with me for a while.”

For a moment, he thought Bucky was going to laugh at him. But all he did was sit back down—not where he'd been sitting before, but right next to Sam, so close their legs jostled against each other.

Bucky's right shoulder pressed against his left—solid, warm, real. Not like the nightmares. Not like the memories. He wouldn't fade away as soon as Sam reached for him.

Right now, that was all he cared about.

[ghosts-and-blue-sweaters]

Dude I just wrote 1,500 words for a single story in a single sitting that never happens.

[armatization-a]

the problem with canonically straight characters is i will, inevitably, commit Ignore Sexuality and make them bi

[everybodyknows-everybodydies]

I don't talk about the books I read too often because for the most part I generally either go "...alright" or find them satisfying but not as mentally itchy as things that I want to engage with transformatively (TLU being a rare exception where I think it's satisfying AND I can't shut up about it but honestly how could I possibly NOT talk about TLU) but anyway. Nevada Barr can I meet you and shake your hand for creating ex-theatre kid middle-aged unaware-bisexual park ranger Anna Pigeon specifically for me

[hopeswriting]

#it makes sense for Vindice to monitor the Underworld and for the Rings to be in the Underworld #because that seems to be where the flame people are hanging out #but statistically if its only 7 people in the world #even with flames morebeing common in the Underworld they SHOULD be mostly civilian or civilian adjacent #it actively benefits Checkerface to keep them away from each other and the underworld until the main event in many ways too- less resistanc #also their being tricked makes more sense in context of very competent people with a ridiculous learning curve

#it does confuse me a bit why Verde isn't considered to be civilian prior to the formation of I prescelti sette? he's a scientist #I know most people read that as like mafia scientist but why? isn't it funnier if he isn't? #but this interpretation of I prescelti sette is hilarious because like. Reborn comes in to this meeting of super professionals and finds #a) an oracle Donna known for her Flame strength. cool and normal #b) the Italian military (okay?) #c) a very talented fighter- even if reborn hasn't heard of him #d) a scientist. he does machines? oh weapons? no?? #e) a stuntman whose poster Reborn's seen a few times. what #f) some random emo child who works part-time at a florist #lmao I bet viper just pretends to know what's happening for like 3 days before someone figures out that they are just making shit up

via @in-asterism

I see your “Skull was the only civilian among the Arco”, and I raise you “Reborn and Luce were the only mafiosi among the Arco”

Okay so this is two third crack, but hear me out, the one third left is pretty solid:

Keep reading

[nereidprinc3ss]

whiny and spoiled

in which reader is being a brat but spencer just can't help himself from taking off her clothes and going down on her anyway!

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: MUNCH!SPENCE (aka canon compliant!) oral fem receiving (duh lol) reader referred to as a girl, bratty reader, idk if this is soft dom spencer or if this is just pure unadulterated munch spencer who will eat pussy at the drop of a hat, overstimulation kinda, sexy and hot, will make u bust a/n: requests are tentatively open in that i may not complete them but i will surely consider them!! thank you guys for all the positive feedback, it's so motivating and i love that you seem to like my stuff so much! please lmk if you like this and what you'd like to see more of in the future! so many ideas and WIPs

You’re lounging on Spencer’s bed when he gets home, fiddling with one of his Rubik’s cubes and kicking your feet in the air absent-mindedly. 

You look up as he opens the bedroom door and gestures for you to remove your headphones, looking a little bemused at the scene in front of him. 

“How was work?” you ask, eyes tracking him as he shrugs off his bag and comes to kiss you in greeting. 

“It was fine,” he dismisses, hands braced on the mattress as he leans over you, looking you up and down. “Why are you wearing boots in bed?” 

“Because I didn’t feel like dealing with the laces.” 

“Take them off, please. You have no idea how much bacteria and filth you’re introducing to the place I sleep.” 

“Probably no more than I do with my hands,” you shrug, shaking the Rubiks cube in his face for added emphasis. He plucks it from your hand and sets it on the bedside table. 

“I’m asking politely,” Spencer says, raising his eyebrows slightly and standing up straight, probably wondering if this is the thing you’re going to push him on tonight. You chew your lip, cocking your head as you regard him. 

“I want to keep them on. They’re my good luck charm. People leave the scary girl wearing the stompy boots alone.” 

He circles to the foot of the bed. 

“Are you saying you want to scare me away?” 

“No. But I don’t need the boots to scare you,” you tease. 

You squeal when he grabs your ankles and pulls you down the bed, beginning to unlace one of your shoes. 

“Do these actually intimidate people?” he asks absent-mindedly, focused on loosening the laces. 

“I mean... I don’t know. Maybe some people,” you splutter after a moment, slightly flustered. 

“Hm. I guess I don’t find you all that scary to begin with,” Spencer admits, tugging the first boot off and tossing it to the ground before getting to work on the second one.  

“Shut up. I’m totally scary.” 

But you’re losing your steel as he looks down at you, eyes raking over your body. There is a hungry sort of sparkle in his eyes now—one that has become familiar and sends a thrill through you. 

“Maybe to people who don’t know you very well.” 

Your eyes narrow. 

“Don’t patronize me.” 

The second boot is removed and joins the other on the floor. His hands begin running up and down the front of your legs. You shiver.  

“I’m not patronizing you, honey. I’m just being honest.” The movement of his hands ceases as he seems to consider something. “Do you want me to be scared of you?” 

You swallow, eyes darting over his face and looming frame, wishing he would keep touching you. 

“No,” you find yourself saying. “But fear is respect. Everybody likes being respected.” 

“I don’t know if I agree that fear and respect are the same,” he muses, smiling ever so slightly, “but I respect you very much.” He resumes moving his hands, higher this time, over your thighs and under your skirt. “I just can’t imagine such a sweet girl being perceived as intimidating.” 

“I am not sweet,” you mutter, distracted by the way his hands skim so lightly over your skin—flipping your skirt over your stomach.  

“Right. You’re terrifying,” he amends gently, hooking his fingers in the waistband of your tights. “Up.” You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the sheer fabric down your legs and carefully off your feet. “The pink underwear are really scary,” he teases, snapping the fabric against your hip. 

“Shut up,” you repeat breathlessly, face heating. “You’re the one that got them for me.” 

“I did, didn’t I? They look good on you.” Finally, he looks up from the pink lace to your eyes. “Can I take them off?” 

“You don’t always have to ask, you know,” you breathe. Sometimes, the answer is obvious enough. 

“I like hearing you say yes.” 

You flush, because what he really means is that he likes when you get desperate. 

“Yes, you can take them off.” 

A smile flickers over his face as he slides the underwear down and off, making sure to take his sweet time. Every brush of his thumb on your calf, every delicate pass over your ankle gives you anticipatory chills.  

“Before I’m dead?” you ask, slightly strained. He tsks, tossing them on the bed. 

“Someone should do something about that attitude of yours.” 

“My attitude is your fault.” 

“Because I like giving you what you want? Sue me.” 

“Spencer,” you grit. 

He slings your ankles over his shoulders. 

“See? You’re not scary. You’re just whiny and spoiled.” 

And before you can defend yourself, or at least make a sufficiently withering reply, he’s leaning down, licking a broad stripe between your legs that for once renders you speechless. Any comment on the tip of your tongue dies as the tip of his becomes all you can think about, melting into a content moan while you rake your fingers through his hair. He sucks lightly on your clit until you’re rolling your hips and then he releases, moving to press kisses to your inner thighs. “Are you going to be nice now?” 

“Mhm,” you promise, wanting only for him to keep pleasuring you in that mind-numbing way of his. 

“Are you just saying that?” 

Another kiss. 

“No! Mean it,” you whimper. 

“Good girl,” he says, rubbing your outer thigh.  

The next kiss is planted on your clit, before he’s taking it into his mouth again and leaving you a whiny mess. You throw your head back and your eyes flutter shut, melting into the bed and not bothering to hold back your sounds. 

“Fuck.” Your voice is small, a gasp as he begins to flick his tongue over the bud, each brush against the sensitive spot making your hips stutter. He rubs your leg soothingly but doesn’t let up—you look back down to watch as best you can through your hazy, half-lidded eyes. “I love you,” you murmur. 

He laughs against you and the vibrations only make you feel higher, whining and bucking slightly when he begins to lap at your slick entrance—kitten licks so light they’re torturous. 

Spencer obviously has a goal in mind; there’s no hesitation and the teasing is minimal. He just wants to make you feel good. And it’s working. The man eats pussy like he’s in love with it.  

His name is rolling off your tongue when he kicks into full gear, firm, fast circles around your clit that make you dizzy and hot.  

“Oh, my god—” you cut yourself off with a languid, shameless moan, rolling your head to the side but keeping your eyes glued on him. He groans in approval as your hands card through his hair, moving one hand to slide affectionately up and down your stomach as the muscles there tense and flex.  

“Fucking obscene,” he mutters, pausing for another filthy, wet kiss to your cunt. “Taste so good, angel girl.” 

“Mm... wanna cum,” you beg, rolling your hips and hoping he’ll get the message. 

“You will.” Spencer takes a long, luxurious lick as if to prove his point, pulling a desperate mewl from your parted lips. “Because you always get exactly what you want, don't you?” 

“Mhm,” you agree, eyes screwing shut, but the reply quickly devolves into a stream of little ah’s that are so sweet Spencer has trouble reconciling their sanctity with their pornographic nature. And the way you unconsciously, innocently begin to pull him closer, trying to press yourself further into his mouth—well, it’s like he said; fucking obscene.  

Sometimes Spencer likes to tease you at this point, to pull away and say sweet and dirty things that always bring forth your most adorable, embarrassed, desperate whimpers. But you taste so good, and you are whiny and spoiled, and you make such pretty noises when you’re all soft and needy like this and he can’t bear to pull away. Not when you deserve to cum. And it’s thoughts like these that are the reason you’re a spoiled princess, he muses peripherally. Because he’s fucking whipped for you. 

“That’s so good,” you exhale, “just like that, please—fuck!” 

He knows you’re going to cum, and there are many things he could do, many things he could say to fuck you over for his own enjoyment, but now he wants more than just about anything he’s ever wanted to work you apart and taste you cumming on his tongue. So he keeps running a reassuring hand over your stomach, trying to remind you to breathe as you approach your peak. 

You finish, a slow wave of ecstasy washing over you, chanting his name as your hips sporadically roll and stutter into his face, and he’s making out with your soaked, messy pussy in a way that would never lead one to believe he’s ever been shy or squeamish or hesitant in any way.  

“Spencer,” you yelp, incandescent warmth radiating in soft waves from your core and slowing your movements as your hips twitch in an attempt to escape the continual onslaught of his mouth. 

“You can take it for a minute, honey,” 

A defeated, half-pleasure half-pain whine lets him know he’s won as he continues to kiss your throbbing cunt, but soon small, weak moans are slipping unbidden past the barrier of your lips. You realize he’s going to make you cum again and there’s nothing you can do about it but tighten your hold in his hair, groan, and ride his tongue as he eats you for all that you’re worth. 

The second orgasm is softer, blurrier, and equally perfect as the first. It threatens the already tenuous hold you have on your consciousness, strand after strand snapping until you’re barely hanging on. 

“Spencer,” you repeat, slurring as you try to shut your legs. “Please, can’t, baby.” 

“You could,” he says, sitting up and closing your useless legs for you, massaging the weak muscles. “You’ve done more.” 

“Mm-mm,” you disagree, chest rising and falling as your breathing slows. “Don’t wanna.” 

“That’s okay, angel. I’m not gonna force you.” 

You sigh, obviously satisfied. “That felt really good.” 

“I bet it did,” he chuckles, finally moving to lay down next to you. Immediately you curl up to him, and he smooths your skirt back down before tracing soothing patterns on the leg you’ve slung over him. “You’re so cute.” 

“Don’t go spreading it around.” 

“Never,” he promises, mocking but in good nature. The two of you lay in comfortable silence for a few moments, as you consider his decidedly unsatisfying answer. 

“You’re not even a little scared of me?” 

He smoothes your hair away from your eyes. 

“No, honey, I’m not. But I’m sure other people find you utterly terrifying.” 

You open your eyes to regard him ruefully, before they narrow again. 

“You have a little something...” you begin, gesturing to your mouth. He snorts. 

“Oh, do I?” 

[crescenthistory]

Hi I really love your fics and was hoping to send in a request! I was thinking a fem!reader who’s also a swan animagus, and partners with any or all of the marauders (minus Pete). She’s a very clumsy person, constantly stubbing her toes and bumbing into corners and walls, so when the boys find out that her animagus form is something so graceful they’re just baffled. That’s all I got really, so with that as you please if you please ��️

this was such a sweet request darling, thank you so much<3 i made this into a general view of what her animagus process looked like + the boys' reactions to what she became

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: fem!reader, use of y/n, remus' pov, loads of anxiety and fearing for safety of a loved one, post-hogwarts with references to oncoming political turmoil but it is not canon compliant, reader is regulus' best friend, flirty bullying lol, mostly fluff and some hurt/comfort

Note: this is my first official poly!marauders fic, and i absolutely adore writing their dynamic

When you began your animagus journey, Remus was unsure of what to expect.

Back when James, Sirius and Peter did it, none of their animagus figures came as a surprise, the picturesque manifestations of the personalities Remus had come to love. Sirius, the loyal guard dog, looming and intimidating in your periphery or on the battlefield, but playful and loving by the fire in his own home. James, the noble and brave Head Boy turned stag, equal parts beautiful and fierce, able to balance out and maintain the worst and best in the rest of the boys. Peter, the quiet and mousy dry-humoured boy they came to love much in the same way you love your pet rat, slippery and smart, able to wield what he has to his advantage. All of it made sense to Remus, which provided a balm for the anxiety that settled in his chest at the thought of the lengths his friends and partners were willing to go for him.

With you though, nothing seemed to make sense. Never really had, it was just right somehow.

You came in later in the Gryffindor friend group, a year younger than the rest of them and best friends with Regulus. It was seemingly a buy one, get two deal when Regulus was finally able to escape the Black household and join Sirius at Potter Manor at last. He refused to leave you behind, knowing all too well what it felt like. Neither Sirius nor James could argue with that, and Remus quickly found he didn't want them to.

No, because when you were integrated into the friend group, hesitant for a mere second – mostly out of respect for Regulus it seemed – before allowing your full personality to prosper at its natural breadwidth, Remus was infatuated. You weasled your way into his heart, knocking against every surface on the way there, leaving him breathless.

He was beyond relieved to look at his two boys – his two lovely boys – and see the same longing in their eyes.

In a relationship that already housed a half-blood half-breed, a disgraced son of a most ancient and noble house and a blood-traitor himbo-jock, Remus had not fathomed there would be room for one more. Until that one was you in all your clumsy-bodied warm-hearted glory – then suddenly, it was unfathomable not to have you.

Despite his shock, Remus found himself quite pleased when finally sat in your shared flat a year after Hogwarts, with you held securely in his arms while Sirius and James were commuting home together from their apprenticeships as aurors at the Ministry. The picture of domesticity. The life he never dared imagine. With your scent filling his nose and your cheek pressed against the skin of Remus' throat, he was sure there was nothing else he could ask for.

"I did something today," you murmured absentmindedly then, trailing patterns on his arm, careful not to snag him with the edge of your nail that broke a few hours earlier that he had not bothered filing down yet.

"Mhm, and what was that, dove?" he replied in the same tone, only half-paying attention as he drowsed in the warmth of you.

"I applied to become an animagus."

Suddenly, Remus was no longer tired nor warm nor comfortable nor nuzzled into your hair as he jerked back to look at you in shock.

"You did what?" His voice somehow didn't convey his immediate turmoil, but he's sure his eyes did as you bit your lip sheepishly.

"I applied with the Ministry to become an animagus," you restated as if it was the simplest thing in the world. "Dumbledore's suggestion. Though if one person in our household is properly registered, it could be easier to avoid any suspicion should the order need you to utilise it more often."

The rest of the night was spent with you explaining what was surely a sound and reasonable plan, but that still lit Remus' veins alight with fire. As was the next few weeks, awaiting the pending response, spent with you and James – who quickly jumped onboard, eager to support you – reassuring Remus and in part Sirius that the plan was sound and reasonable and you would be fine.

"Honestly, I'm beginning to think you have zero faith in me," you joked one evening when you were all cuddled up on the sofa.

"It's not that I don't trust you, dovey," Remus began despondently.

Sirius preferred to cut to the chase with a deadpan. “We just prefer for our darling girl who has never once gone a day without a single bruise to not be undertaking dangerous magical transformations that largely depend upon precision.”

"I have gone a day," you muttered petulantly at that, to which James began rubbing your arms up and down whispering something in your ear about "pick battles we can win, angel".

Remus smiled a bit hesitantly at the sight of his two loves sat opposite him, while he himself was currently held in Sirius' arms and unable to see his face. He could, however, feel the tension in his grip though, likely at the thought of all that could go wrong.

"I understand why it has to be done," Remus started. "And you know I support you always, dove. I just can't help but worry."

You cooed at what Remus was sure was a slight pout on his face before leaning forward out of James' arms to kiss it off him. At that, a genuine smile spread across his lips and into your kiss, breathing you in as a sign of defeat.

"I may stumble, but I can do difficult things, my love," you whispered, brushing your thumbs over his cheekbones. "And with you here, I'll always be alright, won't I?"

"I suppose," Remus faux grumbled, to which James leaned forward to ruffle his hair.

"You are so cute," James all but exclaimed. "So, so cute."

"Alright Jamie, that's enough of that," Remus tried but James kept on playing with his hair, though with slower movements.

"Look at you caring for our little clutz." You let out an undignified "hey" at that. "With big Moony on watch, we will never have to worry."

"And big Padfoot!" Sirius exclaimed from behind Remus, causing the latter to roll his eyes fondly at the boy's not-so-fake fear of missing out.

James caught it too with a hearty laugh, slipping off the sofa to slide to the floor beside Sirius with a soft "of course, baby" before littering his face with a sickening amount of kisses.

As Remus watched you giggle, he pulled you closer. Sickening indeed he thought as he stared down at you with overwhelming love in his throat.

The cycle of worry and reassurance continued well into the animagus process when your application was approved, which Remus suspected Dumbledore also had a hand in. Though, for these, you often couldn't reassure him as much with your words, with the mandrake leaf and everything, but James was your perfect advocate, speech ready on his lips, and your hand never strayed far from Remus' body, keeping his anxiety at bay.

When you fell down the stairs one day or when you ran into doors, Remus' breath caught in his throat like never before, the implications of your clumsiness far more prominent than ever before. You were always alright, and Remus knew he just had kept telling himself that until it was over.

You're alright, you're alright, you're alright. A mantra, a prayer.

"She will be alright, right Siri?" A broken sob into his lover's chest on nights you were away to complete the process.

"Always, always, always." A murmured response that weighed a tonne in his chest.

He never did tell you about those nights, he knew you didn't deserve the guilt or the fretting that would overtake you at the knowledge, not when you were doing something to support your loves, your family, your cause. He could never tell you that while you, in all your clumsy chaos, was being brave, he was being a coward.

And you never did tell him that you knew, that you saw, but you held him closer the nights following them.

While one the precipice of oncoming political collapse, one is rarely allowed full reprieve from anxiety, but Remus found himself washed with immeasurable relief and calm when the front door opened on the final night and he heard two sets of boots and laughter as you and James walked into your flat.

The lightning storm in the background required for the final night of the process was still raging outside, but your flat might as well be on another planet for all Remus cared because you were inside, you were alright and you were laughing. 

Only James could follow you to it, as you had to go through the very final bit alone and Sirius convinced Remus you should be surrounded with calm and reassurance before you took those last steps alone. He agreed, always wanting what was best for you, but it did not help his roaring fears to not be able to go with you.

Thus, the homebound boys immediately shot up at the sound from where they had been anxiously perched on each their chair in the living room, running towards the front door. The latter placed his hand pacifyingly on Remus' shoulder, a silent I'm here, it's alright, she’s alright.

You were.

You were alright.

You were also being laughed at, they now realised.

Chucking off your boots, drenched to the core with hair plastered to your face, you looked awfully displeased with James who - equally as drenched but thrice as enthusiastic - was bent over against the wall, face scrunched up with delight. Remus supposed some of the water drops trailing down his face were actually tears of laughter.

"It's not that funny, James," you grumbled, but the twitch in your lips gave away that perhaps it was.

Ignoring whatever petty squabble for half a minute, Sirius swept you up in a hug and twirled you around, the squelch of your clothes and your own giggle filling the room. "My love!" he exclaimed with glee. "Oh you did it my darling, you did it."

Remus walked towards your embrace with reverence, laughing a bit wetly with relief. You looked at him with so much love in your eyes he wasn't sure if he could take it – and then you opened your arm to invite him into your hug, and he knew he couldn't.

With a shaky breath, Remus let himself fall into you with a few tears rolling down his face and an immense smile across his lips. He murmured some sweet nothings into your hairline that not even he could quite make out.

Pulling back just enough to see your now-wide grin, he kissed you searingly in the exact way he had dreamed of doing on this day.

Safe in his arms, at last.

At the thought, he could almost hear you whisper back that you always were.

"Thank you," Remus whispers against your lips. "Thank you."

"What for?" you laugh back into him.

He opens his eyes to gaze warmly into yours. "For being okay. For being brave."

A soft cooing sound escaped you as you gave him another lingering kiss that seemed to promise you always will be. He felt Sirius' lips drift between each of your foreheads, an eternal comfort in all of Remus' worry, even when he had his own.

"Is this the part where you lie to me and say you knew I could always do it?" you tease as you look between the two boys pressed up against you.

At the same time, Sirius gives you a resounding "yes" while Remus shakes his head at you with a laugh.

"It's not a lie," he begins, continuing despite your light scoff. "I always knew you could, you can do anything you set your mind to. I just love you too much not to freak out about the what ifs."

"You absolute sap," Sirius laughs at him, resulting in you slapping his arm lightly in defence of Remus.

"Do you disagree with him?" you question with a raised brow, challenging smile tugging at your lips.

Sirius' humour was washed away to be replaced with soft fondness. "Of course not, doll."

Behind you, James cleared his throat.

The three of you turned around to see your final boy leaning against the wall, admiration written clearly across his face as he took in the picture before him with heart eyes. It didn't escape Remus, though, that you tensed in his arms beside him nor that James had one of his most mischievous smiles across his face.

"Yeah, angel, we are all super duper proud of you now and forever and always." James says it in a way that makes Remus suspicious he has already told you as much a hundred times over while you were out together. "Now can we skip to the fun bit?"

You groan, throwing your head back against Sirius' shoulder – who whispered a petulant ow! – and promptly pulled out of their grasp. Remus tried to focus on whatever bit was about to come from James to ignore the feeling of loss.

"Fine, but I am going to need so much flattery from you after this relentless bullying, Mister." You threatened as you pointed your wand at James, first in replacement of an accusatory finger, and then to vanish the water from his person. You did yourself the same favour, then grabbed Remus' hand to direct your boys to the living room and its wonderful fireplace that Sirius kept alive for you while you were gone.

"You know I will, baby!" James called after you as he grabbed some water bottles from the fridge on the way to follow you, handing one to you unprompted.

"Now? What's so funny?" Sirius asked impatiently as he perched himself on the end of the sofa, directly in front of where you and Remus stood before the fire.

James' grin came back in full force as he looked at you devilishly. "Can I be the one to tell them?" At least he had the decency to ask you.

"You're the one who thinks it's so bloody funny, so you ought to." Remus chuckled at you, pulling you closer into his side, protecting you from James for once.

"So we all know that your lovely, lovely girl here does not have the best track record when it comes to, you know, general spatial awareness?"

Sirius barked a laugh at that and Remus had to pull you back from kicking his shin, resulting in you stumbling slightly. You shot him a half-hearted glare that seemed to scream don't prove his point!

"Yeah," Remus agreed readily, shooting you a smug smile at the betrayal.

"I have yet to meet a table she can outsmart." Sirius nodded solemnly.

This all seemed to excite James even further. "Right! Or a cart she can't run over her foot, or a door handle she can't smash against her hip, or a staircase that won't make her eat-"

"Okay, okay!" You threw your hands up in defeat. "We get your point, Jamie, gods."

James' smile almost turned rueful, but your cute expression was not really helping your case here. Remus couldn't blame him as James reached out to pinch at your chin.

"And we love you all the more for it, angel, really."

"Yeah, yeah," you grumbled, waving his hand away and placing more weight against Remus. "Get to it, Potter."

"Moony, Pads," James said, looking at them with levity, as if he was about to disclose serious news. "Our beautiful little klutz is a swan animagus."

There was silence for two seconds, as Sirius' jaw fell on the floor and Remus' eyes widened. Remus regretted to disclose that he was the first to break it as he snorted a laugh, prompting Sirius to immediately match James' previous hysterics, clapping his hands together.

"No way!" he laughed as you crossed your arms in further petulance.

"A swan?" Remus questioned with mirth to no one in particular.

"A swan!" James confirmed excitedly.

"And what about it?" you grumbled, stepping back so you could more easily glare at all three boyfriends at once. "What's so so funny about it?"

"It's nothing, dove, it's just-" Remus' placating was undercut by him laughing through it "- swans are know to be, like, elegant."

"I can be elegant!" you retorted. Sirius just snorted at you. "I can be!" you continued, nodding your head in that endearing way you do when you try to insist.

"You certainly look elegant," James relented. "But, my absolute love, you are anything but."

"Again, stairs." Sirius said it as if the word "stairs" in and of itself was an argument. Knowing your past, it most certainly was.

"Grace and elegance are often considered opposites of clumsiness and incoordination, dovey," Remus explained.

"I know that," you seethed in response, but the fight was already running out of you.

"It's just a tad bit ironic, isn't it?" James fought to calm his laughter.

Sirius did no such thing. "Understatement of the year, Prongs."

"Maybe the grace my animagus refers to has something to do with my inner grace in handling you lot," you grumbled, to which James cooed – effectively not helping his case. "And they represent wisdom and understanding, not to mention that they bite so you watch yourselves now." Your glare was withering as you couldn't help but laugh a little at your own joke.

With another breath of laughter, Sirius rose from his seat to reach for you in a hug, but you stepped out of the way. "No hugs for rude boys," you said simply.

"Oh, come on dollface, let me appreciate our little swan." You put up little effort as Sirius tucked you under his chin, chest still rumbling with laughter. “I just cannot believe you're a swan, baby."

"I can," Remus said, letting affection take over the humour in his voice once more. "They represent love too, you know."

James' face scrunched up in laughter as he roughly pulled the wolf into his arms, squeezing him tightly. "You're killing me, Moons, you can't say stuff like that."

"Why the hell not?" Remus grumbled all the while holding James tighter, eyes trained on you and Sirius.

"Because I’ll love you too much." At that, Remus laughed, kissing James' cheek softly.

"Regardless of any humour and irony, you did something incredibly difficult, dove. We're so proud of you." This was not just placation, Remus believed it with his whole chest. You could evidently tell as you almost shied into Sirius' chest.

James walked his embrace with Remus towards you and Sirius, so you were all standing close to one another in front of the sparkling fire.

"Is it okay to say I'm really proud of myself too?" you asked then with a slight self-conscious smile.

Sirius shut down any insecurity with the searing kiss he pressed to your forehead. "Of course, baby. It would be a tragedy if you weren't."

Remus could feel James tilt his head in thought. He couldn't help but pry. "What is it, Prongs?"

"Just that," James began. "Because of our animagi, I'm Prongs and Sirius is Padfoot. But you've always called Y/N dove just because – and now she is a bird, so should we all call her that now? It's not the same bird, but close?"

"No," Remus and you said quickly and shared a small smile. "Dove is mine, you lot can find your own bird-name for her," he teased.

James just laughed. "The possessive streak runs deep in this wolf, huh?"

"What nicknames can be derived from a swan then?" Sirius wondered out loud. "White Wing sounds too much like a superhero name."

"We are not calling me White Wing." You laughed, leaning your head on Sirius' shoulder. "I quite like what you've always called me. If we need a codename later we can come up with it then."

Remus was sure his irises could melt from how soft his gaze on you felt. "Sure thing, dovey. Tonight we just do whatever you want to celebrate."

Your smile was relaxed in that domestic, beautiful way that Remus felt the urge to frame. "We're already doing it. Just being with you three."

"Sap," Sirius whispered in your ear, accidentally tickling you, causing you to giggle and twist in his arms.

As Remus' body shook with both his and James' laughter, he knew that you had once again gone and done everything he never expected. If he was lucky, you would do that for the rest of his life – and that is what would make it good."Oh, I have to go tell Regulus!" Sirius exclaimed, running off - with you hot on his heel.

[a-hazbin-reader]

love the chaotic-ness of platonic alastor and reader of your posts!! the way you write him is more canon compliant but that makes it even more GREAT. can i req platonic alastor (+maybe rosie as a trio?) with overlord!reader. they just talk shit about the Vees and stuff lmao and do it openly on his radio show. hang out at rosie’s. maybe alastor gets reader to support the hotel too and everyone’s to alastor is like THEM?? You know THEM??? alastor’s like yeah lol we blow stuff up every tuesday and broadcast it where you at

OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST OVERLORD PODCAST-

Alastor X Reader X Rosie Headcanons

❌️Romantic

✅️Platonic

TW: Alastor and Rosie cannibalism

Description: 👆⬆️

The three of you are very busy demons who have demanding jobs so getting together doesn't happen as often as you'd like

But when you get together??? It's almost like you're all a bunch of gossiping old women instead of powerful deadly overlords

Rosie brings the snacks(bring your own if you don't want people meat), Alastor provides the venue, and you pick the topic of discussion

The first podcast was entirely an accident, Alastor forgetting he was on air when you and Rosie suddenly burst in

ALASTOR YOU ARE NOT GOING TO BELIEVE WHAT HAPPENED

He gets so sucked into what you're saying that he forgets about his radio show and everything the three of you are saying is being broadcast live

But a lot of people are tuning into it??? Like everyone is so entertained by the three of you and your conversation

Once you three realize what happened then you all agree that this must become a weekly occurrence

Even the other overlords listen in on it every once in a while, finding it hilarious

Vox is absolutely livid because he's being IGNORED, why is nobody watching tv anymore???

He tries to get you and Rosie on his show instead but the two of you don't even take the offer seriously

The chemistry would be all off without Alastor's sparkling humor anyways

Which makes him throw a huge tantrum that becomes the next topic between the three of you

Y'all are just trashing this man at this point

It's his own fault for providing you three with so much ammo

But nobody is safe

It's just a fun little gossip podcast that somehow blows up and turns into this gigantic thing

But it gives you three an excuse to hang out

Whenever the conversation starts to drift towards the hotel you try to stay out of it for your own reasons

And it does always go back to the hotel, Alastor is running a business afterall

Alastor slowly starts to warm you up to the idea of his hotel, whatever your motivations are or if you believe in it

Rosie also encourages you to at least humor him and go see it

Easy for you say, he's not pressuring YOU

So you give in one day, accompanying Alastor to the hotel

Huh, Alastor wasn't joking when he said that Lucifer's daughter was his partner 🤔

You're not entirely surprised when you see the shocked looks everyone gives Alastor when they see you

WTF ALASTOR WHEN YOU SAID Y/N WAS COMING I DIDN'T THINK YOU MEANT Y/N THE OVERLORD

Who else would it have been, Vaggie???

Everyone nervously watches you and Alastor interact, it's two extremely powerful beings in one hotel

Except for Niffty, she greats you like an old friend, climbing all over you and making maniacal noises

Husk and Niffty are the only ones not surprised by your friendship, knowing that you and Alastor are good friends

They fill the others in on your relationship when they think you two aren't listening

It's almost funny hearing it come from someone else, you had nearly forgotten how you two met

"That's right..! I DID try to kill you! That's so funny!"

"Isn't it? And I do believe I nearly bit your hand clean off!"

You two are fucking deranged

You have a better understanding of why Alastor wants so much support for this hotel now

And you're a little surprised that Charlie seems to believe so genuinely in the idea of redeeming a soul

Regardless of if you're sold in the idea or not, you agree to support the hotel for Alastor

But now you're going to rope Rosie in with you too, if you're gonna go down then the three of you are going down together

But that's unlikely to happen, Alastor wouldn't lead you guys into a death trap

He's never steered you wrong before

This was so fun to write!!

[starry-stormy-knight]

taken me ages but behold archive karecktors

adolin and maya beloved but also the most time consuming because i had to figure out how the hell i was going to do adolin's hair and not hate looking at it, and maya took me forever to figure out the colours lol. looked at so many references trying to figure out what dead vines should look like and what i would like it to look and i couldnt really find what i wanted lol. but what i went for was like really dried out and very very dead looking fibre. that wasnt too bad but trying to figure out her clothes that would look decent before and after she becomes a deadeye was hell for me an amateur colour theory understander lmao

i have drawn shallan before so she wasn't too difficult but i was truly torn about which version of pattern i wanted to show?? so i did a few of them hahah. i did a canon compliant version, alluding a bit to BE NOT AFRAID angel vibes. but im pretty passionate about ferrofluid-looking pattern as thats what i picture in my head (but i couldnt really find a good reference so i couldnt really do it well. it's also like, about the way it moves more than a still frame so extra challenge). and if you've seen my shallan art you know i. asdlkfjh. i originally pictured pattern as a QR code so i was compelled to continue it. @mistbjorn this one's for you because youre so right <3

syl i usually picture similar to kida in disney's atlantis when she merges with the crystal and you can see her scalp beneath her transparent hair, so thats the inspo for her. for the sylspear i designed it to look a bit like a caduceus as homage to kaladin's medical training and his dad, and like it's not that deep but i guess the swirly glowy bits are his duality and being torn between two worlds etc etc or you can just picture spren zipping about if you want lol like i definitely pictured syl was one but the other makes no sense

the kholins i dont have much to say since they were not part of my original plan hahaha but i couldn't help adding them too. i lowkey struggled to make them unique but also similar because family alksdjfhs i was sketching this around a time i did a lot of face studies so it was so whack and the colouring absolutely killed me so it is what it is asldkjaklsdjf