#someone write an actual fic for me

[littlelightfish]

This... this is a whole different kind of psychic damage here. When nightmares got Marcille, we get to knew that her's biggest fear is outliving her friends. This isn't even canon probably, but look at this. This isn't a "I don't want my friends to die" kind of dream. This is a "I'm terrified of loosing my daughters, of something killing them, and being incapable of stopping it" kind of dream. It's so simple yet it explains perfectly the whole of chilchucks character. He loves, he cares, deeply. But he, or doesn't acknowledges, or doesn't know what to do with that knowledge.

Besides that. Someone had to wake him up after this. Imagine the devastation in this man after he wakes up. He just saw his three little babys murdered corpses (or maybe he saw them die, wich isn't better). He would possibly not talk about it, and that would worry the hell out of the party, because we'll, they see him all down and only one of them knows what he saw. Imagine being the one to pull him from that nightmare. Seeing this man, usually so composed, fuking staring with tears and terror in his eyes to the composes of what you can only assume are his daughters. It would be heartwrenching.

Idk, I love this man so much...

[arttsuka]

Au where this happens instead of the portal incident

Edit: someone did write a fic about it. Wow. Here

Original image:

[lexosaurus]

If you're only commenting on a fic to ask for an update or worse, to be passive-aggressive about wanting an update, then please do both yourself and the writer a favor and don't comment at all.

Saying things like "Can't wait for the next update!" as part of a comment about how you enjoyed the chapter is one thing, but just going into the comments and being like "Where's the update?" or "You haven't finished writing the next chapter yet?" or something similar is not only rude, but also I ASSURE you it only serves to make the writer anxious about writing at all.

Fic writers are not content creators. We're not robots. We're real people with careers, families, and other irl responsibilities. Writing is something I do in my thirty minutes before I go to bed to wind down from the day. Whatever I want to write that evening is what ends up getting written.

So by making me anxious and putting pressure on me to update a fic, especially in that passive-aggressive way that so many people do, all you've ensured is that when I open up my folder that evening to see what I feel like writing, my eyes will completely skip over that WIP that I got the rude comment on that day because I Feel Bad about it and now I don't want to even look at it.

So please, just follow the golden rule of "if you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all."

[somnimagus]

My page for @sheikahzine; about Impaz's duty to her village, empty of people and full of memories.

[id in alt text]

[frownyalfred]

Your post on Bruce being the weakest human member of the league, makes me wonder what would happen if a new meta-human league member, after being criticised by Bruce for acting too rash on the field, turned around and essentially said something along the lines of 'What gives you the right to talk to me like that? At the end of the day, you're just some human.'

Cue a completely silent room and tension thick enough you could cut through it. I feel like before Bruce even had the chance to respond, multiple members of the league would step in first, especially Clark, if he's in the room when this interaction occurs.

I know it’s not super in character but I wish, in that moment, Bruce would simply step aside, tilt his head, and indicate that the meta should lead the mission themself if they feel so strongly. Kind of like when the Chef in the Menu let Tyler cook in the kitchen just to watch him fail (theoretically this would be a mission that doesn’t affect civilians etc).

Clark would be furious and so would everyone else. But maybe they’d still defer to Bruce and let the hotshot run the mission into the ground. Sometimes to teach a lesson, failure needs to be at full intensity.

Bruce would step in at the end, a la Speirs in Band of Brothers, reach a hand down to the frazzled meta, and ask him if he wanted him to step in. Calm voice, confident posture, no obvious grudge or resentment. Just Batman offering to lead the mission after all.

[lavendersins]

Merlin overhears a bunch of nobles talking about how much he really gets away with, so he slowly pushes the boundaries.

Merlin, sitting patiently beside Arthur in a council meeting: My foot is injured, my lord.

Merlin, walking down the hallway, blatantly eating Arthur's food: I am testing the king's food for poison, my lord.

Merlin, wearing Arthur's crown: I am trying to see whether it needs to be resized, my lord.

Merlin, sitting on the throne: I am trying to see if the king would benefit from a cushion, my lord.

[dukeofthomas]

Here's my controversial opinion; if you're trying to write Bruce as a non-abusive, good parent, you should also write him respecting his kids' privacy, boundaries, and not stalking&surveying them.

[starcurtain]

I think Alhaitham's views on gods and his dynamic with Nahida in particular is probably one of the most underrated comedic elements to come out of Sumeru.

This guy put together an entire crack squad and master plan to rescue a god while being the Genshin equivalent of an atheist. "Yes, obviously archons exist. But so do sharks. Both of those beings have their place in the ecosystem, and if I had to pick one to piss off--"

Like, does he believe in the dendro archon? Yes. But is he going to listen if she denies his paid vacation request? Absolutely not.

Bro is selected by name to come discuss important matters with his nation's deity in her sanctuary, and he's just like, "Oh, I ran into Nilou there once. That was cool."

Raised to the highest possible position available in his nation's government by the deliberate selection of his god? Resigns.

We know that Nahida still calls on Alhaitham when Sumeru is in need of defending from nefarious parties, and sends him out with Wanderer to kick ass and take names. Now that they've forgotten Rukkhadevata and the Akademiya's ploy to imprison Nahida has been foiled, most of the people of Sumeru would be floored by the honor of being called upon personally to aid the great dendro archon. Staggered by the fact that the lord of wisdom herself finds them worthy! But Alhaitham? He just goes home. Kaveh asks him what he was up to all day. "Hm. Nothing of note."

Everyone else, upon receiving the recognition of a god: My life has been changed forever. I will be telling my great grandchildren of the day I received such a blessing!

But for Alhaitham? It was Tuesday.

Criminally underrated comedic potential. CRIMINAL.

[necrotic-nephilim]

Tim's unternet suit really is the most glaringly obvious hero worship/crush for Dick thing he ever has. in the unternet, where Tim's subconscious creates what he is. that's the suit his brain comes up with? something so clearly derivative of Nightwing? down to the *finger stripes*?

red robin #19

this is gay as hell. the reason Tim can't wear this soul irl is bc the first thing he would do is jerk off in it. and he couldn't handle the embarrassment of Dick seeing how similar it is. if DC ever made this Tim's official suit the first thing they would have to do is make Tim and Dick fuck in it. i'm so close to writing that fic i won't lie.

[yearninflowers]

Imagine...

“You… Do you really love me?”

...

At first, Phainon was silent—well, technically, he was flustered. He paused everything he was doing and looked at you weirdly, trying to understand why you were asking him such an obvious question, yet he answered anyway.

“Of course,” he tucked a conveniently fallen hair strand over your ear, laughing rather softly at your question despite the confusion, “how could I not? It's as easy as breathing and as simple as admiring the skies.” His face got closer, a smile still apparent on his face.

“You don't have to try so hard. It's quite easy to love someone like you.”

He kissed your forehead. It felt soft, and the love from his heart seemed to wrap itself around you from this one action. And somehow, the lingering touch left you wanting more before he eventually talked again.

“You don't always need to fit in. You're fine as you are.”

He kissed your cheeks, both of them, carefully. And just like before, the lingering touch had left you wanting more. How could someone show their love so apparently like this?

Suddenly, he held your shoulder, forcing you to match his eyes. They seemed to focus solely on yours as he tried to mutter out something.

"You're you, and—" He gulped, the hold he had over your shoulder tightened slightly, "and that's why I love you.”

He leaned in. And at that moment, you noticed the slight tremble in his hands as he kissed you—slightly, softly, only touching the left corner of your lips.

“...understand now?”

Oh, God. You wanted to cry at this moment, somehow. It felt as if something—you didn't know if an old wound had been healed or it was just you feeling so loved—had changed in you.

Is it truly possible to have someone love you so deeply and effortlessly? — You often questioned that. For someone who had been thirsty for such an 'easy' love, how could you not melt for the man in front of you? How could you not... love him back as well?

“Yes, yes.” You sobbed out, smiling awkwardly through all the bubbling feelings. “I understand well.”

Hearing your answer, he laughed rather quietly. It sounded comforting, rather than anything else. Some people could laugh at you when you show vulnerability, but he didn't. He never did.

“Good." He smiled, nodding off to yours and his own words. "I hope you remember it well too. I really love you, you know?”

And so, you smiled back.

As your heart was filled to the brim, you finally gathered what little courage you had to give him a small peck to his lips, truly finishing what he wanted to do before.

“...uh?”

You grinned cheekily.

“Hehe, I love you too, Phainon.”

And that was all it took for him to finally melt in your hold.

[erinwantstowrite]

every time i start panicking about the small details (like how i don't know near as much marvel lore as i do DC, etc) i remind myself that LoF wasn't supposed to get super popular and im just having fun and practicing writing for my own books and suddenly that anxiety goes away. like it's not gonna be perfect and it was born out of me and my friend being goofy

[temeyes]

i,, i don't know what possessed me,,

[goosecastle41]

Idk just the imagery of Kremy using Gideon for warmth

Like yeah okay we’ve all thought of this cause duh alligator man and fire man go good together blah blah

But the imagery of Kremy slinking out of his tent on a cold night out in the woods. He and Gideon have been traveling together for a good while now; started just as the weather was wearing off from winter, the warmth coming back into the world. They’ve been traveling together for so long the weathers turning bitter.

Their fire had long since been extinguished and the wind whips around their makeshift campsite. Even despite the trees, the cold air rushes through like waves, chilling Kremy’s already cold blood to ice. No matter how deeply he burrows into his tent, swathed in his blankets, he can’t seem to retain any of his heat.

I just I magine him pulling his thickest blanket tighter around himself as the wind beats against his shivering body, looking towards the second tent in the small clearing. Debating with himself; “Would he even be okay with this?” “It’s just for warmth.. He’s a god damn walkin’ heater, it only makes sense…” “But he didn’t sign up for THIS-“

Another wash of icy wind sweeps through, making Kremy flinch and pull the blanket just the smallest bit closer. He concludes as he walks to Gideons tent that, Gideon in fact DID sign up for this when they created their contract. Gideon is Kremy’s bodyguard, and in return Kremy feeds Gideon and gives him a percentage of whatever cons he helps Kremy pull off. Kremy can’t feed and pay him if he freezes to death in his tent overnight.

Imagine Kremy creeping towards the tent, seeing a soft glow emanating from inside. He can see from a crack in the tent flap the embers in Gideons hair and beard. Even in his sleep Gideon burns hot. Opening the tent flap is like opening the door to a stove; hot air rushing out at him due to the colder air outside. The warmth blankets Kremy and he can’t even begin to think about stopping the sigh that leaves him.

I imagine Gideon as a light sleeper. He never slept well while he was held on the train; hell he couldn’t even sleep laying down without his arms being hung in the air thanks to the chains attached to the car walls.. But he could and did sleep on the train. The constant noise and rattle of the cars, the sound of the fire he constantly stoked, the voices and laughter of those awful hobgoblins, the trains blaring whistle.. it was all his lullaby for years. Despite how horrible those years on the train had been, the first night he tried to sleep off of it, he laid awake in bed until sunrise.

Gideon couldn’t hear a thing over the sounds of the train. There really wasn’t much else to hear expect for the sounds stated above. There wasn’t much else to worry about. But outside of the train and it’s constant noise… there was so much more. Gideon knew what to expect from the train.

The sigh wakes Gideon from his sleep. His eyes pop open, immediately alert as he quickly scans around his tent. It takes nothing more than a second for Gideon to spot Kremy and relax the tension that flooded into his shoulders.

“Krem? Ever’thin’ ‘lright?” He’d ask, his voice thick with sleep as he moves to sit up in his bedroll.

Kremy would hesitate to open his mouth a moment, having forgotten to actually come up with what to say to Gideon. He could just be upfront and explain that he’s cold… But making up some long winded excuse that doesn’t involve looking weak willed has always been Kremy’s go to.

When he does actually open his mouth to start on the second option, another blast of cold air hits and makes Kremy shiver hard, eyes squinting against the torrent of sharp winds. He ducks deeper into his blanket cocoon, anything he could have said blown away with the wind.

Gideon watches this and immediately gets the picture here. Gideon can be.. a dense man. He’s not exactly the sharpest knife in the drawer ya know. But he cares for Kremy. Kremy’s done so much for him over the time they’ve been together.. He’s given Gideon some kind of purpose. He’s given Gideon a sense of belonging. He’s given Gideon a constant companion… He gave Gideon that little comb, the first thing anyone has ever given to him of their free will.

The least Gideon can give back is some warmth.

“Geez, man, get in here and close that behind ya, would ya? Lettin’ all the heat out.” Gideon would say, moving to lay back down again while shuffling to the side to allow Kremy into the warm spot that had been beneath Gideon.

Kremy blinks once, twice.. Unsure. A smaller gust beats at his back, forcing Kremy into the heat of Gideons tent. He quickly secures the tent flaps closed before he practically dives into the warmth Gideon has offered.

Kremy curls up on the warm patch of tent ground Gideon had just been on moments before while Gideon is radiating heat to Kremy’s back that he can feel even through his blanket burrito. Kremy closes his eyes, more than content with the way these events have gone.

That is until he feels Gideons hand on the blanket. Kremy’s eyes pop open again as he hears Gideon speak,

“Share. You’ll get warmer faster and stay warm.”

He feels Gideon pull one side of the blanket out from under him, moving to pull it over himself before he shuffles back closer to his original spot. He’s practically pressed against Kremy’s back, hardly an inch separating them. Kremy stiffens up like a board, waiting with almost bated breath to see what comes next… But Gideon just settles behind Kremy, not touching him but just a hairsbreadth away from it…

“Can’t have you freezin’ on me now…” Kremy hears Gideon mutter behind him.

“Yeah… who would feed ya if I did?”

[funkyplantguy]

established relationship scarian where scar finds A Creature of some sort (dealer's choice) and starts in on the whole "Can we keep it?? 🥺🥺" routine to grian

i was originally going to go with a cat, then a baby warden (listen idk) then an ACTUAL baby...then landed on this (and giggled and kicked my feet the entire time as i wrote it). hope you enjoy :D

scar: g scar: grain scar: grian scar: light of my life scar: where are you? scar: i have gift grian: fishing dock scar: shoulda guessed scar: be there soon <3

grian stretched, quietly groaning to himself as his back (and wings) crackled in delight at the movement, tired of the endless hunching they’d endured over the past several hours. a gift from scar (especially an unexpected one) was sure to be…interesting. they’d been together long enough that scar knew what grian liked, of course…but sometimes…the “gifts” his partner would bring him would be more for scar’s own personal amusement than anything else.

not that he really minded, of course. not when that meant getting to see scar light up like a kid on christmas. scar was always so full of life - always giggling over something or other - and it just reminded grian of why he’d fallen in love with him in the first place. and honestly, that was gift enough for him.

despite all of that, he wasn’t quite expecting scar to bring him something...alive.

grian heard the chirping from the small bundle in scar’s arms before the man had even landed, and couldn’t help the inquisitive trill that forced its way out of him in response. and that, of course, set scar off - mimicking the noise with his own (very human) vocal cords (which only served to produce a melody akin to being strangled). he stared at grian with wide eyes as he touched down, and grian felt his cheeks burn under his gaze.

“g! i’ve never heard you make that noise before - that was so cute, do it again!”

“no,” grian chirped back, then pressed his hand against his mouth as scar laughed in delight. “scar - what is that?”

“it’s a baby!” scar responded, moving closer and tilting the bundle in his arms towards the avian. “look - it’s a little you!”

grian uncovered his mouth to retort - he very much doubted that scar had somehow found a baby avian wandering around hermitcraft - but another quiet chirp caught his attention, and he found himself leaning forward to peer over scar’s arms. and there, nestled in a pile of soft, brown blanket, was the ugliest baby parrot grian had ever seen in his life. and yet..and yet…

grian didn’t even realize that he was whistling until the baby returned his birdsong, eager little chirps and gurgles spilling out of its little fleshy beak. it tilted its head up at grian, blinking, and grian offered up a trembling finger into the makeshift nest. the chick nuzzled against it, purring softly, and something in grian’s heart felt like it might burst. he raised his face to his partner, and found scar’s gaze transfixed - but not on the parrot in his arms, but him. their eyes locked, and scar offered him a smile - something soft and warm, something that made grian want to kiss him more than anything in the world.

“can we keep it?” he whispered, and grian let out a short (wet) laugh.

“i…scar, where��where did you even find it? it’s so little…i can’t imagine its mama would have been far; she’s probably worried sick…do you really want to take the little guy from his mama?”

scar’s lower lip wobbled (and grian felt like he might be the worst person in the entire world for it).

“he didn’t have a mama! i sat and watched and waited for hours, gri, and nobody came for him…he was just all alone, on a branch in the jungle, and i got worried that something was going to come along and eat him! and…well…i figured you’d know how to take care of him. given that you’re…y’know.”

he gestured toward grian’s colorful wings with one hand, and grian’s feathers rippled obediently in show for his lover. from scar’s arms, the tiny bird chirped again, raising its little head and struggling to flap its wings in the same way grian had fluttered his. scar looked down to the parrot, then up to grian, eyes wide and sparkling as he jutted out his lower lip.

“see! he agrees! he wants you to be his new mama!”

(and if grian’s heart fluttered in his chest at the suggestion of being a mother, that was no one's business but his own. that was a topic to be discussed later - much later, in the warmth of each other’s arms and the shield the darkness their room offered for grian's vulnerability)

“we could name him…um…jeffrey!”

“scar - we are not naming our son jeffrey.”

“our son???!??” scar parroted back, jerking his head up from where he had dipped it to stare down at the chick in his arms. “our son??? so…we can keep him? really? you mean it?”

“yes, scar. i mean it,” grian responded, smiling softly at the hopeful peep from the newest member of their little family. “we can keep him.”

(and the way scar pulled him into a kiss, then, was the greatest gift of all)

[charlesemersonwinchesteriii]

if Crozier had a nickel for every time someone close to him kept a mortal wound secret from him he'd have two nickels which isn't a lot but it's definitely enough to give him some very specific trauma for the rest of his life

[ckret2]

sometimes i forget how much of your writing i’ve absorbed into my understanding of canon. the other day on twitter people were discussing bill’s biology and i was like bro don’t they know about the exoskeleton? before realizing that no. no they do not. because it’s not actually *technically* canon.

my friend... i'm flattered and honored

but the exoskeleton is canon