#What will be my lifespan

[lucabyte]

On autonomy, and what it means to be Obliged to Help.

Bonus:

[suntails]

200 years

[arieslost]

some of lando’s film camera pics from miami that i am extremely normal about 🤩🤩🤩

[starwhipnspin]

you know what fuck it *turns zane into a tamagotchi*

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Master manipulator vs Master manipulator

 [First] Prev <–-> Next

[shkika]

I just hope you don’t come to regret it..

You can think of this comic as a part 2 to the UI leaking the rot comic. Please check it out! (x)

[petrichara]

[shattered-eluvian]

hello tumblr can I interest you in a collection of various unfinished doodles I am too embarrassed to keep inundating my art blog with? 😂

woe. solavellan's be upon ye.

[iridescent-serpent]

Been on a transformers kick lately and for some reason it’s been primarily focused on the bayverse version of them (aka the really bad live action movies). Anyways I decided to redraw some of the decepticons (the movie did them mad dirty) and it Immediately got out of hand and now I have an AU version that’s basically a mashup of G1 and bayverse. Enjoy my insanity.

(Also third image is just g1 I just decided to put it in here too) (also enjoy how you can see how quickly I went from “semi-accurate to source” to “my design now” via shockwave and soundwave)

Also here’s some shitty phone doodle comics bc those are quick and free and fun to make

This one in particular is from the Netflix exclusive transformers game (think Marvel Contest of Champions type of game, aka 1v1 beat-em up). Specifically in the fact as Optimus Prime I ran Circles around an enemy Ratchet (didn’t get hit once) and killed him with a single gun shot before he could actually hit me

Anyways, here’s some extra Yautja related stuff I have just free floating, specifically in that I made a lil dumb what-if AU of if we were still playing as a Yautja in the Marine campaign of Aliens v Predator (plus a funny happenstance)

[marclef]

Day 7 of whatever this Pizza Mess is!!!

i bring you Rats!!! the character i had written down was just Brick, but why not have a couple extra friends in? let's just hope they're not anywhere near the pizzeria.... 👀💧

(also haven't been too happy with how i've drawn these rats before... so i decided to change them up a bit! i like them a lot more now 😁)

[tardiskater]

okay but like is there a fic that is more tragic then remus' canon? because like I think it's pretty damn hard to beat growing up alone because you were bitten when you were five and are afraid of hurting anyone, going to school during the start of a war, being thrown straight into fighting with your best friends as newly graduated teenagers, losing trust in eachother and coming home more and more tired, 'three' of your best friends dying all in one day and your boyfriend being the traitor who gets sent to askaban, having to survive alone for the next twelve years and endure the moons alone for the first time as a child because your pack is dead, becoming a teacher at the same school you grew up in and having to endure the ghosts of your past while trying to make a better future, having your deads best friends son be in your class who you saw on the day they were born but haven't seen since James and Lily's death, finding out that your traitorous ex boyfriend has escaped from prison and is near the school, finding out that one of your old best friends is still alive and that your ex boyfriend was never the traitor, reuniting with your ex boyfriend and feeling sixteen again, being thrown from the only job you have ever loved because you've been exposed as a werewolf, fighting in the second war with your boyfriend only to have him die a mear two years after you finally got him back, picking up the pieces and trying to find love again, marrying the cousin of your former boyfriend, having a child with her and then dying in the final battle of a war you've been fighting your whole life and being unable to see your son growing up.

[fearandhatred]

i've had it up to here with this project lmaoo but this is panel ??????? 9 of panel 2. i think. it will all come together in the distant future

panels 1, 2, and 8 of panel 2

[the-angst-chronicles-fanworks]

The Wolf and The Witch

Part 1/?

Steve knows better than to enter the Witchwood. He’d been warned from the time he was a child, back before the wolf, that it was home to its namesake. And not just any witch, a dangerous one. One that had killed an entire hunting party, unprompted, with the flick of a finger. None who have entered those woods since have ever returned.

Steve knows better than to enter the Witchwood, but he doesn’t have a choice. Robin is slumped over his back, hands clenched tightly in his fur, clinging desperately to consciousness. He can feel her blood, warm and sticky, matting the fur of his back. His own gait is slowed, every step jolting the silver teeth digging into his right hind leg and sending sharp pain shooting through him. He’s not sure how much longer he can run, and he can hear them - the bloodthirsty cries of the townsfolk dead set on his murder.

They had been found out. So many cycles of living in this town, living among its residents as a friend and neighbour, and still they’ve all turned on him. Of all the times for it to happen, too. It was the moon he had agreed to make Robin a wolf. She had already been weakened from the wolf taking hold when they had been attacked, the silver already a weakness but her body not yet given over to the strength of the wolf.

Steve wishes he could take her to Nancy, knows Nancy would help despite everything, but the townspeople have blocked them off, funneled him in his blind panic. His only hope is to lose them is the wood, but even then he might lose Robin to his own fumbling medical knowledge.

But first, he has to get away from their pursuers. Steeling himself with a deep breath, Steve enters the Witchwood.

————————————————————————

Eddie is no stranger to people trying to do him harm. It’s been a constant in his life from the time he was a child, long before his gifts had awakened. And one that had- well. It’s been a constant of his life, sure as the cycle of the moon and sun. So he notices the prickle of someone entering the woods, but he gives it no regard. It happens a few times a year, that someone gets it into their heads that they will be the one to kill “The Witch of the Woods”. None ever even make it to him, losing themselves in the enchanted trees.

These trees are older than him, and their magic is their own. They like him and welcome him among them, but otherwise are hostile to outsiders. In the beginning, he had tried to help those who became lost in the woods, but those days have long since passed. Despite what his uncle says about his soft heart, Eddie’s become bitter and jaded and he no longer pays any mind to those who venture into the woods.

But this time, something is different. Eddie feels the disturbance of someone crossing into the forest, feels the shift of magic as the forest warps around them, and it’s… different. The ways and paths of the trees are second nature to him, he can tell by the shimmer of magic against his skin which paths have been revealed and which hidden away and this…

The forest is being lenient, gentle. The interlopers are shown the ways to peaceful places, soft and danger-free. Eddie can recall only a few times that the forest has been kind to intruders, and it has almost exclusively been to children.

So he’s more than curious already when he feels the buzz of more people crossing the boundary into the woods. A lot more. And Eddie realizes that this hunt is not for him.

The trees are not so kind this time, opening its twists and turns like a maze, a trap for anyone foolish enough not to turn back immediately. They don’t, of course. They never do. Eddie pays them no mind, drawn instead by curiosity to the two that are being pursued.

He steps between the trees, slipping into a space that’s folded away between reality, picking his way with ease through paths that are there and paths that are not until he emerges at the edge of a small clearing, moonlit and mossy. Theres a tiny spring-fed pond and there, limping toward it, is a wolf. It’s huge, the size of a small bear, with a strong frame and thick russet fur.

It notices him at the same time as he notices it, and it’s massive head swings to face him, teeth already bared in a snarl. It’s hackles raise, and it turns fully, squaring up, a threatening growl rumbling across the little clearing to him.

Eddie steps back, already gathering his power until it glows around him with dark energy, because this is no normal wolf. Even without the size and the silver trap clamped around its leg giving it away, he can see it in its eyes, feel in its presence that this is something more.

He recalls his childhood, the warning tales at his mother’s knee. He remebers later, freshly chased out of town and taken in by his uncle, watching as the old man leafed through his ancient book and warned Eddie that he wasn’t the only dangerous thing in the wilds. Eddie has no doubt that he’s come across one of those dangerous things now. He looks at the wolf and knows exactly what he’s seeing.

A werewolf.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[optiwashere]

C1 with the moon lesbians... the gals.... the ol Selûnite pals..... fucking turn me into emotional paste boss o7

Oh, that is a good one! Also, this is the last prompt that I'm accepting for this stretch of fics! I've got one more prompt to fill after this, and then I'll be cashed out on these for a while :)

Thank you so much for requesting this one! 💜

---

C1. Lifespan differences

The signs of aging were subtle at first. She wore them so well that Aylin hardly noticed for many years.

Each new line on her face and hands was a beautiful detail added to what Aylin already believed to be perfection. Aylin, however, was wrong. Somehow, perfection could be improved.

It took until she began to struggle with basic tasks for Aylin to realize what was happening. Isobel steadfastly insisted that she do nothing to help her, but there was never a chance on that or any plane that she'd stand by and watch Isobel drink from a cup as if it were a battle to be fought. Her fingers shook so harshly one day that Aylin took to feeding them both.

Convincing her to accept it was almost impossible, at least until one day when she simply couldn't eat. The shaking hurt to see, hurt to feel, hurt to hear.

When the time came, Aylin drew her a bath and sat her in the water in her lap. They spoke for an age about what the light of Selûne looked like when it was within one's grasp, and how Isobel looked forward to sailing the silver seas of the Gates of the Moon. They spoke for so long that Isobel grew tired, and she relaxed into Aylin's arms in the bath.

Aylin spoke for them both when Isobel could manage it no longer. An hour must have passed then, Isobel's fingers pruning from the fragrant water.

So she spoke and she spoke. She waited, listened for a heartbeat, and she spoke. She described the moonlit Staircase that appeared every full moon that would allow them to travel the planes freely, adventure where Isobel's mortal form would have never been able to reach. She spoke.

She spoke, and she spoke.

She spoke until the heartbeat could be heard no more.

When the time came, Aylin departed the Material Plane with a meagerly tempered sorrow. The journey would be lonesome, painful, but only for the scant moment before she returned to her mother's embrace with the hope that Myrkul's grasp on Isobel's soul was shattered with the death of his Chosen.