#and a clan tag for sorting

[crackpaw]

MY FAVOURITE SISTERS!!!!! quick design notes: - leaf is based off of a monstera leaf - squirrel is based off of a red squirrel - leaf is slightly larger than average, squirrel is smaller than average

[onionamiga]

so that new masters EX announcement huh . not saying they should have let me have a go at putting these two in modern clothes but i think they could have let me try ... i've been so good

(plus a bonus melli because i simply cannot help myself)

[faustodisco]

Actually if we want to talk about the lilienne/joyce ship I would like to bring up that it plays into the bourgeois woman’s fantasy of class dynamics in a relationship (à la lady chatterley), as well as the upper/middle class idea that their identity as women supersedes said class dynamics (and therefore they believe themselves to be in no position to oppress women of the working class) in a way that lends itself to reactionary movements like TERF ideology. As someone who lives in the uk and has been heavily affected by said ideology, joyce actually put me on high alert just by her voice and appearance.

I think it’s a mistake not to acknowledge that joyce is heavily thatcherite coded (the hair, the posh accent etc) especially when compared to lilienne who plays into the working class british woman archetype: she sounds welsh (considered a ‘lower’ accent), has young children, is a widower etc. It is fairly common to see the ‘confident mum who has to single-handedly support her young family’ in soap operas and other media, and she definitely plays into that stereotype.

Anyway, the ship is on the surface level a fun one, but let’s not overlook the framing as a one-sided and rather sinister set-up.

[thejadecount]

So i just started getting the hang of this whole ‘peepaw multiverse’ bit where a bunch of Future! Leos from fics hang around as 4 old co-parents I guess but honestly I’m surprise no one has taken Last Ronin! Rise Mikey into account because C’MON! The angst and comedic potential is all there!

Like all the other F! Leo’s are all just talking about their angst and Last Ronin Rise Mikey is here:

I could imagine that they’re all upset over his tragic backstory, but he’s just tired of their shit.

I don’t know I just think it’d be funny if these full on grown-ass traumatized old men needing a just-as-traumatized if not worse older man to make them get their shit back together.

look it’d be really funny and really angsty I’m just saying why has no one else thought of this yet?

[morocosmos]

FFXIVWrite 2024 Day 11 - Surrogate

Masterlist Fandom: Final Fantasy XIV Characters/Pairings: Leofard Myste & Warrior of Light Rating: Teen & Up Additional Notes: Takes place at during HW patch 3.5. Major spoilers for the Shadow of Mhach alliance raid questline. Ao3 Link

Lady Raimille. The picture painted by Stacia's tale was everything an orphaned child could want from a parent. Everything except that she'd passed on too soon — but not before giving her foster son one last gift.

The noblewoman’s real portrait hung above them, enshrined in Leofard’s quarters. Presiding over his affairs and his family; watching over the man himself. Moro'a knew that paintings like this cost a considerable sum to commission, and that taking care of them required specific knowledge and attention; unexpected obligations for a sky pirate. 

But the painting gleamed, immaculately free of blemishes. “I had wondered as to the origin of his vessel's naming,” Cait Sith said softly, his voice touched with emotion. “‘Tis a most beautiful painting.”

Moro’a’s time in Ishgard had also taught him that portraits like this one were made to memorialise — a likeness captured in brushstrokes, preserved from time. Remember me as I was, in this moment. Remember what this person means to us. Situated where their loved ones could gaze upon them, and never forget.

I doubt I'll ever feel worthy to sit where he sat.

Throughout their adventures, Leofard had pretended as though the portrait wasn’t there, and it was all Moro’a had needed to know not to bring it up. He’d accepted it without judgement, without ever considering otherwise. What was he here for, if not to hide from ghosts and broken hearts; from memory?

But now that Stacia had told them what Leofard would never impart himself, the pieces that made up the leader of the Redbills had finally begun to click: why a man who prized freedom so highly would build his new home a stone's throw from the Holy See, and why the loss of his airship had made Leofard retreat into himself, like a creature seeking familiar refuge. 

It seems she kept him safe until the very end, Utata had said, and Moro’a’s heart had clenched so tight that he thought it might shatter.

It wasn’t any of his business. The voidsent had been stopped, and Cait Sith had found a new home. His time with the Redbills was coming to a close. It’d been an engaging distraction, which was precisely what Moro’a had needed; there were no stones left to overturn, no more accidental revelations to be had. He would go his separate way, into the unknown, and then…

Later, as he was stowing the few essentials he’d brought into the manacutter, Moro’a heard footsteps approaching. He turned to see Leofard, who was already dressed in a clean set of clothes and red-tinted goggles. “I almost forgot,” the sky pirate said, as breezy as could be now as he held something out in his hand. A Redbill scarf.

“You didn’t have to,” Moro’a murmured, feeling a strange mixture of reluctance and guilt. 

“And I say otherwise, Warrior. I reckon you’ve done more than you’ll ever need to to have earned this.” His hand stretched closer, and Moro’a considered refusing. He was ready to quit this place, to move on. I’m not who you think I am, he wanted to say. 

Instead he found himself reaching out for the scarf, and tucking it in with the rest of his things.

If, after he'd said his farewells, his hand reached under the collar of his shirt to gently hold the necklace that rested against his chest, to remember, he was the only one who needed to know.

[twistedappletree]

Why do I get the feeling that Lan Sizhui just doesn’t give a heck who touches his forehead ribbon? He exudes such intense platonic love vibes: all his friends are his soulmates, his family are his soulmates, everyone he loves and cares about are his soulmates so like… who cares actually, touch the ribbon, he loves you all equally

[dreamsy990]

made two of the characters i designed for ffxiv girlfriends or something

[pretend-pretend-vampire]

if I could figure out how to make a button that would take you to a random post tagged with a certain tag on a specific blog on tumblr I would make a random spc generator SO fast

[seeliragh-fr]

i love the idea of the deities being evoked for various qualities or tasks in their respective wheelhouses.. i’ve played with it a little bit in lore before, but now i’m thinking about the existence of roadside shrines or small honorary offering spaces in lairside guest quarters or public spaces.

you could always do little renditions of the World Pillar, for instance, where travelers may leave charms or offerings specific to their desired deity- colorful strings of beads of correct color tied around the appropriate place on the little stone carving, or a bowl of chipped travelers’ runestones at the foot. flights may have region-specific incense cakes that may be prudent traveling tokens if you happen to need your patron’s attention far from home.

or, riffing off this post which i love, there might be deity-specific effigies in places where their governance is at play; a squat stone Tidelord might sit under a shingled roof of clamshells at a crossroads miles away from any ocean. tall, thin shrines housing the windsinger might be encountered on winding paths away from civilization, with weathered coins strung up beneath the eaves so that they clink musically together in the breeze. bronze flamecallers might be interred at the mouths of kilns or in front of smiths’ workshops, the head and wingtips buffed bright with many years of rubbing for good luck. in place of a hearth deity, the earthshaker might reside in a little alcove in kitchens or living quarters to hearken to home and safety. the possibilities are endless! the color-coding of the flights means you can do so much with banners and ribbons and pigment and talismans to add little details and texture the world.

[acourtofquestions]

Hearth to hearth, the Flame of War went.

Over snow-blasted mountains and amongst the trees of tangled forests, hiding from the enemies that prowled the skies. Through long, bitterly cold nights where the wind howled as it tried to wipe out any trace of that flame.

But the wind did not succeed, not against the flame of the queen.

So hearth to hearth, it went.

To remote villages where people screamed and scattered as a young-faced woman descended from the skies on a broom, waving her torch high.

Not to signal them, but the few women who did not run. Who walked toward the flame, the rider, as she called out, "Your queen summons you to war. Will you fly?"

Trunks hidden in attics were thrown open. Folded swaths of red cloth pulled from within. Brooms left in closets, beside doorways, tucked under beds, were brought out, bound in gold or silver or twine. And swords-ancient and beautiful—were drawn from beneath floorboards, or hauled down from haylofts, their metal shining as bright and fresh as the day they had been forged in a city now lying in ruin.

Witches, the townsfolk whispered, husbands wide-eyed and disbelieving as the women took to the skies, red cloaks billowing. Witches amongst us all this time.

Village to village, where hearths that had never once gone fully dark blazed in answer.

Always one rider going out, to find the next hearth, the next bastion of their people.

Witches, here amongst us. Witches, now going to war.

A rising tide of witches, who took to the skies in their red cloaks, swords strapped to their backs, brooms shedding years of dust with each mile northward.

Witches who bade their families farewell, offering no explanation before they kissed their sleeping babes and vanished into the starry night.

Mile after mile, across the darkening world, the call went out, ceaseless and unending as the eternal flame that passed from hearth to hearth.

"Fly, fly, fly!" they shouted. "To the queen! To war!"

Far and wide, through snow and storm and peril, the Crochans flew.

[nemesis-is-my-middle-name]

Giratina is often said to be Arceus' last child. By extension, this must make Palkia and Dialga the first and second.

Herein arises a problem, a longstanding debate, and its eventual resolution. Neither time nor space can be said to be greater or more important than the other; therefore, the two are held to be twins.

---

Volo's plan is quite simple. The meddling of Sinnoh's lesser servants cannot be tolerated. They must be dealt with somehow. And he knows of no limiter more effective—no chains more tightly binding, no prison more perfectly restrictive—than a human body.

The Pearl Clan's newest visitor—Ingo, if that is his name, though there's always that lingering uncertainty about it—he isn't sure how to answer any other questions about himself, either. His knowledge of Hisui is too strangely absolute for a newcomer. It suggests long familiarity with the territory—but if that's the case, why does nobody else in the region recognize him?

Irida presents the Lustrous to him, once, as is tradition.

It is agony.

Just standing in its presence is a pressure like the bottom of the deepest ocean, like a singular force bearing down on him without mercy. To touch it is—he suddenly feels as though his body cannot possibly contain him, like something is pulling him to pieces—the light of the pearl is blinding—

To provoke a reaction from Sinnoh's treasure is a sign of divine recognition. It usually isn't... like... that. But still, if you ignore that discrepancy—and the Pearl Clan is nothing if not good at ignoring discrepancies—it can only mean good things for a warden. Right?

---

Deities move on a glacial scale, or so it seems at times to humans. Nevertheless, imprisoning a god—binding it to a human form to prevent its intervention—cannot be without consequence. Nor will it go unnoticed by its fellows.

It takes Hisui a long time to notice, but reality has... gone strange. Eroded. The seas stretch on endlessly. Mount Coronet is a spear against a yawning void. The winter has become eternal; days are short and nights are long, and the more time passes—though perhaps that phrase is not so apt—the less rhyme or reason there is to the changing of the celestial bodies.

And far beyond, in a realm above both time and space, a once-dual, now-singular god rages...

[onionamiga]

i am god's Strongest aroace irida truther ...

(or if you disagree this could just be her in a nice colour scheme i suppose)

[meowymeowzers]

"I don't think the moon would really know the sun. I think it'd yearn for it, constantly aware of it's presence but just...Never close enough to really know it. So I don't think the moon misses the sun, no, but...I think it wants to." -Ratcatcher, Clans of the Blue Ridge Mountains

cotbrm is ran by the wonderful @booksofstars!

[boilingrain]

Okay so I plan on drawing stuff for my Clangen nonsense but I just feel like it's important for you guys to know that my medicine cat is named Weedclaw

[lovebugism]

saw you were looking for shy!reader requests and now I'm having visions of nighttime colorful twinkly lights, snow swirling in the frigid air, frost-bitten noses and tentative glances...

what about reader getting roped into holiday caroling with the gang, including her crush, Eddie? Or some other festive outdoor activity, preferably one which allows them to subtly get closer to each other without giving away their feelings 🤭 I'm feeling those 'will we won't we' vibes tonight hehe

wow. here's me casually writing a wee drabble for someone who's written some of my favorite works on this app lol. hope you like it angel :D !! — eddie keeps shy!you company during a holiday party at the wheeler house (friends to lovers, fluff | 0.9k)

The weirdo has a soft spot for the princess.

The Princess, he calls you, ‘cause Mike once convinced you to sub in on a D&D campaign some months ago now. You were a rebellious fairy from a clan of royal fae sent to guide the rag-tag troop through an enchanted, labyrinthine forest. 

You had dressed the part, too, despite having zero knowledge of the game itself. You waltzed into the Hellfire room in a flouncy pink dress, iridescent fairy wings from last halloween, and a crown of artificial flowers.

Eddie remembers you that way, still. A sweet and timid thing, with a big heart and a pretty laugh. Even now, as you sit all alone in the Wheeler’s backyard, away from all the chaos and the twinkling lights, bathed beneath a glowing pink sky and sparkling snow — you’re still such an ethereal thing. A heavenly being, flung from space.

He weaves through the quaint party and over to you, carrying a steaming cup of cocoa in one hand and his bleeding heart in the other. 

“How’s it going over here?” Eddie asks over the soft holiday music playing closer to the crowd.

You blink up at him with wide, glassy eyes, as though he’s just jolted you out of some sort of daze. “Oh. Yeah. Fine,” you stammer finally, smile wavering when Eddie’s lopsided grin makes you forget how to breathe. 

You tug the blanket tighter around your shoulders with cold and clammy hands. Hiding feels instinctual to you now.

“Freezing to death?” the boy quips and fights to keep his own teeth from chattering.

The sight of him before you, with snowflakes clinging to his curls and his pale skin softly flushed with wintertime, makes you smile more sincerely than you mean to.

“Something like that,” you nod.

Eddie extends a ringed hand towards you then, offering the paper cup of hot chocolate keeping his aching fingers warm. “Want some?”

“Oh, no— It’s okay,” you decline with a polite shake of your head while your chest blazes with misplaced embarrassment. “I— I can get my own.”

“Well, between us, I didn’t really want it in the first place,” Eddie confesses lowly, taking another step closer until you can smell the deep musk of his cologne. You tilt your chin to follow his gaze. “Little Holly offered me a cup, and I didn’t know how to say no.”

The thought of Eddie Munson, in all his daunting black and silver, having a sweet spot for the youngest Wheeler (whom he exclusively refers to as Little Holly) makes your chest go all warm. 

Holly has her own innocent affections for him, too — you know for a fact she’s got an obsession with his bat tattoo that’s driving Ted insane.

You duck your head in a feeble attempt to hide your smile. Eddie sees it anyway, though, and smiles at your smiling, perhaps wider than he realizes. 

You take the cocoa from him with gentle, trembling hands. His heart skips a beat when your fingers brush over the back of his own. Yours stops entirely when he sits down on the bench beside you — not unwelcome, of course, but more wanted next to you than you’d ever be willing to admit out loud.

Eddie hisses through his teeth and tenses beside you through a shiver. You watch him stick his pale hands in the pocket of his thin leather jacket, which he wears in spite of the inclement weather.

“Are you sure you don’t want another jacket?” you wonder sheepishly, peering at the boy through the corner of your eye.

“I’m good, princess,” he insists with a shake of his head, just before his glowing nose sniffles. “I’m a rockstar, remember? Rockstars don’t get cold.”

“Really?” you hum, quiet and sarcastic.

“Yeah. Freezing to death is, like, the least metal thing ever. It’s like, you know, using an umbrella when it’s raining— It just makes you ten times less cool.”

You shift on the creaking bench and smile at your cup of cocoa. “Well, me and the ladybug umbrella I’ve had since I was nine respectfully disagree,” you joke in shy murmurs, still so meek in humor.

Eddie laughs. You feel him trembling with it beside you from where his shoulder’s pressed against yours. You see his teeth chattering just before he lifts his hands over his mouth, breathing hard into his palms in a desperate attempt to warm them.

Your hands ache with the sudden urge to cover him up. They tremble with uncertainty when you drag the borrowed blanket from your left shoulder to drape the excess along his back. Eddie peers at you with a chocolate button-eyed look as you shift closer into him, made warm and alive by your proximity alone. He’s grateful for the act of kindness, still.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, gaze averted and cheeks pink. You’d almost think he was shy.

“Don’t mention it,” you murmur back and mean it.

“You know…” the boy lilts, nicotine-spearmint breath fanning warm across your cheek. You can hear the smile in his voice without ever even looking at him. “If you just wanted to be close to me, you coulda just said.”

You flash him a stern look from beneath your lashes, which still manages to look just as soft as the rest of you. You try not to think about how close he is to you now — close enough to make out every distinct shape of the snowflakes sticking to his wild hair.

“Don’t make it weird,” you plea through a deadpan.

“That’s a lot to ask of the local weirdo,” Eddie scoffs. “I mean, it’s kinda in the name, princess.”

“Sorry for not wanting you to freeze to death.”

Eddie meets your narrowed eyes with a crooked, pink grin dripping with mischief. 

“I like you, too, princess,” he croons quietly.

Your chest pinches. You have to remind yourself to breathe. “I didn’t say that,” you shake your head and turn away, looking back to the crowd mingling beneath falling snow and fairy lights. You don’t know why Eddie would want to be here with you, instead of over there with them. 

Eddie doesn’t know how he could want a single other thing than to be here with you.

“Didn’t have to,” you hear him say as he pulls the blanket tighter over his shoulder and shuffles closer into you. For warmth, you tell yourself. For warmth and not a damn thing else.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

I can't recall if you take requests but.. The boys with a vampire lover? If you haven't already.. Been thinking about this for awhile, I just had to ask. And if you don't, Then I apologize for asking.

Vampire Lover!

Tags: mostly fluff, monsterxhuman, mention of blood (you’re a vampire duhhhh)

Incl: Satoru, Suguru, Sukuna, Choso, Nanami

An: Hi! My requests are open :) No need to apologize! Thank you for the idea <3 I hope this is what you meant btw this is the best I could come up with.. 😭

SATORU

Satoru would definitely be the type to beg you to bite him. You would always deny him and tell him that it’d be wrong for you to feed on him since he’s your boyfriend, but he gets all giddy at the idea of you biting him and drinking from him.

He always makes excuses for why you can’t attend events or different clan meetings if they’re during the day. You’re constantly known for having some sort of sickness that Satoru randomly came up with.

He’s very inquisitive: constantly asking you if people smell different based off their blood types, which blood type is the sweetest etc.

He also has the money to fund all consensual giving of blood to feed you for years on out. You never have to worry about going hungry or having to hunt for food. Another reason why you refuse to drink from him.

Satoru would at first be happy with his humanity. He doesn’t want immortality or to never age. He doesn’t want any more power than he already had. Though, when you randomly bring up to him that you’ll outlive him, he’s suddenly questioning whether being a human is for him or not.

The thought of you going on to live without him for as many years as this earth stands drives him wild. He starts doing a lot of research, and he begins to ask you if you’ve thought about turning him. He’s definitely willing to give up his humanity if it means being by your side.

SUGURU

Suguru insists you drink from him to prevent harm from anyone else. At least, that’s what he tells you. In reality, he loves how much you rely on him. He adores each time you crawl up into his lap and gingerly kiss on his neck, obviously hoping to feed on him.

He’ll always tell you, “Go ahead, baby. Take what you need,” as he brushes his hair back from his neck. His hands would gently caress your back and bottom as you drank from his neck.

He’d never stop you either, even if you took a bit too much from him because that’s when you’re extra doting on him. You’re super apologetic and tend to him like he’s some frail being. It’s the only time in his life that he’s looked at as weak, and he doesn’t mind it, especially not when your apologizing with kisses and bringing him anything he could possibly ask for.

Suguru lies to his found-family that you have a rare skin condition, and you can’t be in the sun at all. He makes sure everyone accepts you into their little group, and he even introduces you to his followers. You expressed fear about being around that many humans, but he loves to watch as you nervously make your way across the room, introducing yourself to everyone. He knows you’ll be itching to feed as soon as everyone’s gone.

Suguru wants to be by your side for forever, but he knows that if you turn him, then you can’t feed on him anymore. He’s stuck in a dilemma of choosing which is more important to him. His humanity isn’t even part of the equation as he gave that up a long time ago.

SUKUNA

Sukuna would be the type to laugh at you for needing blood as substance to keep you alive. He would mock and bully you saying things like, “Look at the worthless creature who’s really no better than a mere mortal.”

He’d tempt you by various means, sometimes even “accidentally” slicing his finger open so you could smell the blood that still somehow pulsed through his veins. Once you finally pled enough for his liking, he’d finally allow you to have a taste.

For the King of Curses, he has some of the sweetest tasting blood that you’ve ever had the pleasure of indulging. Though, he won’t let you drink from him often, instead he gifts you human sacrifices. He thinks of it as a courting present.

When he’s not being a little asshole towards you, he does enjoy lying in bed with you while you theorize about what the future holds for you two. He’d gently pet your hair and tell you not to worry your head about such foolish things.

Everyone in his inner circle already knows about what you are. If they’re fine with being associated with the literal incarnation of evil, then they should be completely okay with a vampire at his side.

He doesn’t have to give up his humanity to be with you for all eternity because he doesn’t have any humanity to begin with. You’re not even sure what would happen if you tried to turn him, but you’re not too keen on finding out.

CHOSO

Choso would be like Satoru in the sense that he’s constantly making sure that you’re fed. Given his blood manipulation cursed technique, he can feed you quite easily through various different means. Though he rather prefers when you bite him.

He relates to you on a deeper level, understanding what it’s like to be not quite human. He sympathizes with your struggles and tries to reassure that some humans will accept you for who you are.

Knowing that you can’t go out in the sunlight, Choso finds so many date ideas and things to do at night. You never feel like you’re missing out on anything because this man will make it happen, no matter what it is.

Only Choso and Yuji know you’re a vampire. He knows he said that humans will accept you, but he also knows some will try to hunt you down, and he’s not willing to take the risk.

Choso doesn’t have to give up his humanity to live forever with you, but he does wonder what would happen to him if he was half-curse and half-vampire. He’d become fixed on the idea, but you’d have to politely remind him that if he turned, his cursed technique would basically become useless.

NANAMI

Nanami would be such a cautious lover to a vampire, not because he’s scared of you. He loves you. He’s just worried about everyone else being around you.

He’d let you feed on him, but he brings around small blood bags for you to enjoy at all times! He even gets jazzy with it and makes you fun little drinks with the blood (while trying not to throw up because it probably repulses him). Nevertheless, the drinks always turn out good.

He holds an umbrella for you constantly if you insist on going out during the day time. If anyone asks why you need an umbrella, he snaps at them to mind their own business.

Nanami would tell no one that you’re a vampire. He doesn’t want anyone potentially leaking that information and bringing you into harm’s way. He prefers that he’s the only one who knows.

Unfortunately, I don’t see Nanami giving up his humanity to be with you forever, and you agree with him. He grows old beside you while you remain the same, and you give him the most fulfilling life possible.