#but finally i shall post them

[worldformula]

you don’t know what you’re asking for.

[nabaath-areng]

I have this one "OC" that does not yet have a name that I've drawn several times for a couple years. I was thinking that if I tried making them in FFXIV that I'd use elezen as a base... but then I remembered what other race have their near exact hairstyle... and now I'm like damn... I played myself...

[celestialrealms]

diavolo supporting mc and barbatos's relationship like he's two seconds away from "accidentally" calling mc dad/mom/etc. gets me every time tbh

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

There is a brutal contrast in how Megatron and Optimus's stories end. Optimus nobly surrenders his spark, along with the Matrix of Leadership, having been sent off by his dear and trusted friends after giving them a fond farewell. He has accomplished his life's greatest goal; now he is able to rest. He dies willingly, at peace, bringing hope and giving life to the next generation by restoring the Allspark.

Megatron had already been killed, and was told that he can never join that very Allspark. Having been enslaved, and only released because of Optimus's actions, he is now reanimated, inhabiting his own corpse. His only remaining ally, who has constantly betrayed him, does not understand him. He flies off, alone, having lost all his forces and failed in his mission, and realizing that his life's greatest purpose was misguided. He is left, we can only assume, to live a hellish and hopeless life--a shell, consumed by the past.

And he did not tell Optimus goodbye. He knows that Optimus will leave him behind, will obtain the heaven he can never enter. He gives him the parting gift of his repentance, to acknowledge this. But in his refusal to say farewell, there is an echo of his own wretched endurance. He does not get to rest. Megatron will remain, eternally alone--eternally waiting for a reunion that will never come.

[icewindandboringhorror]

Little bright colored outfit with a fun vest ~

(shoes from ebay like 10 years ago. everything else is thrifted)

[chiropteracupola]

"...and Ardroy was a dragon's favourite if ever he had seen one. But then, Keith could not blame her."

Another illustration of Luzula's excellent Flight of the Heron/Temeraire crossover fic, 'The Flight of Dragons,' this time of Pràiseach and Ewen Cameron.

[its-anime-zing]

Me, starting a new Anime: Iwillnotsimpfortheprettyboy(s)Iwillnotsimpfortheprettyboy(s)Iwillnotsimpfortheprettybo-

... Dammit. 😅

[luck-of-the-drawings]

POOR GABRIEL MONTEZ! YOU NEVER SAW THIS COMING DID YOU? ALL YOU WANTED WAS POWER. SECURITY. SAFETY. & THATS EXACTLY WHAT YOU GOT! JUST IN EXCHANGE FOR YOUR BODY. LETS JUST HOPE NO ONE FUCKS THIS UP. LETS JUST HOPE YOU WONT HAVE TO CLEAN UP THE MESS.

[secretsimpleness]

Fan service.

Shepard (custom), Liara / Mass Effect (c) Bioware

[cheesy09]

[CN] Kiro's Demon Transformation Date Blurb

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for content that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

I see desire in your eyes.

I'll make you yearn for me, day and night.

Translator: @cheesy09

🌟 Date Preview:

Given that you don't have much time left, you decide to take a chance and rely on his strength, but not only does he take no action, he also makes a lot of unreasonable demands.

Against the backdrop of silk and satin, you seem to have escaped the fate of death.

Was the vision of hell that you saw that day just an illusion?

---"I'll make you yearn for me, day and night."

[hayconrisa]

unwind holiday week day 1: snow day ❄️

risa ward, hayden upchurch, connor lassiter (hayconrisa)

~600 words

a little cabin fever never hurt an AWOL

Risa never liked winter.

When she was in Ohio State Home 23, the cold air was always a reminder of how much she had to fend for herself. The only gifts she and other StaHo kids ever got were scratchy sweaters that felt like wearing dishcloths, and gifts from each other, hand-made, hand-spoken.

Then, she was kicking AWOL, and it was a miracle she didn't die from the unforgiving frigid chill of Ohio’s winters. Frostbite never did anything more than chip away at her fingernails, but bordering on hypothermic every day had done irreparable damage to her nervous system.

She got sick easier, she got sick harder. Forget staying warm and cozy inside a cabin with the fire burning bright and flickering across the wood—Risa stayed inside because she didn't want to catch a winter cold and have it turn much worse.

When she and Connor had their six months of isolation in Marseille, she evaded the cold and basked in the 54 degree winter days. They both found out very quickly that that lifestyle hadn't been sustainable, because they had been missing one very important person.

“You good, Risa?”

She blinked, tearing her attention away from the window. Hayden padded to the couch, sidling up to her on the couch, two mugs of a hot something in his hands.

“Yeah,” she said, relieving the tension in Hayden's furrowed brow. “Just thinking. I guess I'm doing a lot of that these days.”

Hayden hummed and handed her the mug. It was hot chocolate. Of course it was hot chocolate. There was even a snowman shaped marshmallow bobbing in the cocoa, the smile on its face slowly melting off.

“Thanks.”

Hayden abandoned his mug down on their coffee table to let the heat dissipate, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Cabin fever, huh?”

Risa snorted. “Tell me about it.”

“Oh, I have. You're going to get sick of my voice before you get sick of being cooped up here.”

Risa took a sip of her cocoa, and it burnt the roof of her mouth. “I’d never.” She set her mug down next to Hayden’s, leaning into his shoulder. “You’re the one thing that has made this winter actually tolerable for me.”

“Awww. I'm touched.”

Risa shook her head, looking at him. “I mean it, Hayden.”

His smirk dropped a little, turning into one that was more genuine, heartfelt. He always smiled that way when Risa caught him off-guard by being completely unfeigned. Never saccharine—that wasn't her style. But she knew that admitting to him that she wouldn't have her life any other way, her life with him in it, dug so deep into his resolve that he was never quite sure how to handle it.

So he smiled a kind of sheepish smile instead and kissed her forehead. “I can only take half the credit—Connor keeps us in line.”

Connor joined them a little while later, with his own mug of cocoa and a half-melted marshmallow, and they watched the snow pile up around their tiny cabin. Completely detached from the rest of the world—but somehow, for the first time in years, Risa didn't feel that same loneliness that always seemed to creep in when the frost did.

Connor and Hayden were not the entire reason why her outlook had started to change. It helped, though, that they had been there for the past few years. It helped that Hayden kept her distracted and Connor held her during the long nights.

It seemed like winter was something she could start looking forward to. There was snow falling all around her, and for once, it wasn't suffocating.

[lullaebies]

fever dream. (952 words, helaegon, no warnings)

summary: On a sunny day, Aegon feels like recovering. (Aegon spends a day with his family, and only finds fever dreams).

Mundane, sunny days are the most pivotal of times.

Aegon sits on a stone bench in the Keep’s garden. This is not his most favorite of places, for the morning sun often shines too brightly on tired eyes, but he has woken early and couldn’t bear the feel of sweat and overheat the coverings bestowed. He feels feverish when the nights catch up to mornings, and the feel of fever starts to manifest.

In these sorts of days, there’s the urge to recover. It comes and goes, a fleeting dream, but when it arrives he knows what the sun bids. 

The maids surround the garden as if they are borders; he finds it rather constraining, but Helaena says it’s due with twins like theirs. 

“Just watch,” she says softly, with the calming scent of honeyed tea coming from the cup in her hands. Aegon thinks her own tranquillity lingers in the air. Tension radiates from her easily on most days, her sensitivity on her sleeve and in a manner more upsetting than one might want to admit; the days where she’s in utter peace are as odd as they are comforting.

The maids are up at arms when Jaehaerys dives headfirst into the grass. A boy of four years with a flock of mothers that rush over to him in absolute attention and fright. He looks to his unmoving wife; he wonders if she feels any envy. As uninvolved as he may be in these matters at times, he can’t say there isn’t any irk within him when Aemond or Criston have father-like moments with the children. He swallows it, but it’s an odd feeling, getting left behind for someone better.

It doesn’t seem to be the case for her. Helaena keeps herself poised at her seat, sips on her beverage and grins. When Jaehaerys lifts himself up from the dirt, face covered with some soil, he does not cry; only stands expectant, looking at his sister. 

“He likes to poke reactions out of her,” Helaena provides the information abruptly. “And he likes to attempt to make her smile, as some would say it is rather difficult to get her to.”

Jaehaera is often even-faced for a child of her age. His daughter is more dignified at four than he ever was throughout his two decades. She makes for a very poised, albeit shy princess; though not a very lively child. That is what most would say of her, at least. Aegon will admit she’s restrained in her interactions, but she smiles at him rather frequently. And what child isn’t shy of strangers? The entire court can shove that talk up their arse.

His daughter looks at her brother with the most refraining expression, lips pressed together with her cheeks pronounced. Not shy to try harder at reaching his goal, Jaehaerys fills his cheeks with air and smooshes them down, as if all the air erupted out. Didn’t I do that once? Regardless, the boy succeeds, and a grin makes an appearance on his sister.

The two children go on to play tag, their nervous maids tailing them to keep them in sight. Jaehaera is as good at disappearing as Aegon, it seems, and Jaehaerys uses every power granted to him to give a good chase for the adults around him. Sometimes they feel like him in a manner that hurts. 

Helaena comes up from her seat beside him to look at them as they stray. Calm in her steps, she knows they’ll return. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, and even as it falls, it will always roll back around the soil of the tree’s roots. Aegon comes up after her, standing beside her in the shade of the pavilion’s roof.

She turns to him then, when they end up only having greenery to look at, their children out of sight. There is a feeling of vague emptiness now that the area is clear of the twins, but laughter from afar is what he’s rather used to hearing.

“Aegon,” Helaena makes him look down at her. There’s an odd pause, as there is before any of her provocations, as uncommon as they can be. Her mop of silver locks falls to her back as the tip-toes to kiss him. Her lips press against his softly, and her hand comes to squeeze on his arm. 

Her lips taste like sweet chamomile and tranquillity unknown, and he presses back into her kiss, as the sun threatens to uncover them from their shade. For moments few, he drinks in the heal of hope instead of the numbing of liquor, and grows unafraid to bask in the rays of this sunny day.

When Helaena breaks off the kiss, their noses brushing before finding their distance, she only says one more thing, with one hand touching his face. “Don’t look so sullen.” 

It invokes a dry laugh, the upturn of his lips won over. How many times has he been called sullen? Plenty, likely. Well, the court can shove that wherever they’ve left to shove it. The voices of his children become louder as they return, and he keeps his grin on.

“Papa, Rys fell again!” Jaehaera announces as she returns, and her twin comes behind her, proud in his scratches and ominous small blot of dry blood by his nose. 

“I won!” he counters his sister, unperturbed. 

“Your two left feet serve you well, don’t they?” He says coming forward. Without a beat, Jaehaerys replies.

“Yes!”

Helaena chuckles, and Jaehaera prevents her brother from slamming purposefully into the steps of the pavilion, dragging him up to them by the hand instead. It feels like he’s recovering; but it also feels a fever dream.

[nabaath-areng]

“I just don’t get what your problem is! First you’re angry that I'm here, and then you get angry when I leave, despite the fact that you're the one who told me to. Did I just dream up that we’d gotten past that and learned how to be civil with— H-huh?!”

(Theirs is a rocky and confusing road.)

Bonus aftermath:

[starry-eyer]

what the heck

have i gone worldwide? how do people even recognize my behaviors on other websites?

i’d never recognize any of you btw

[louwhose]

Happy Pi Day! Or... is it pie day? White day?

Whatever, today is something and I'm celebrating whatever it is with this ship I'm far too obsessed with for how little screentime they have.

[lovewithoutagony]

GUYS STOP. I FINALLY GOT AN IDEA FOR SIMEBARB HALLOWEEN STORY HOLD MY HAND WHILE I WALK YOU THERE

Swan Lake inspired with some unhinged cannibalistic twist + smoking hot vampire love interest mmm

simeon would be the cursed swan (obv) who coincidentally meets a vampire who's looking for prey

just when the vampire thinks he's found a perfect, pretty prey, he's met with a surprise!

I'm making it a freak 4 freak story and how their love does break Simeon's curse but it actually causes more inconvenience to others but their love is twisted like that yk

snippet underneath!

He takes a deep breath in, slowly exhaling while his eyes remain fixed on a graceful figure.

It is quite difficult to discern the details from a vantage point this high, but he is certain in the beauty in how the figure's hair flows, the grace in the person's every move.

The vampire gulps, licks his lips. He finally finds a prey for the night. With his eyes never straying from the elegant silhouette, he moves with the speed of a hawk, and in a blink, he is in the dim alleyway, a few steps away from the figure he admires a second ago.

Silent as a cat, he walks towards the beauty, swiping a singular stem of potted rose from a windowsill.

The mysterious person remains oblivious as the vampire encircles him, only squeaking in surprise when a deep, silvery voice resounds in the night air.

" A fine evening, is it not? May I ask where you are off to, alone, in this beautiful night?" The sentence was spoken with a smile, which falters once the vampire finally sees for himself the face of the human that caught his attention.

Green eyes widened im pleasant surprise.

The face in front of him, is an exquisite concoction of the sharp masculine beauty present in the lines of his jaws and brows, mixed with the delicate, gentle beauty that is in his eyes and lips.

Not to forget the quality in which his long, dark hair shines in the moonlight, ethereal in its glow, and the elegant yet alluring curves of his body which are accentuated by a mesh tied around his waist.

His beautiful blue eyes are widened in shock by the unexpected presence, and his lovely lips parted in tandem, all while the vampire drinks in the enchanting sight with delight.

A hot breath subtly fans the vampire's neck when the beauty exhales.

" Good evening.. Do you need anything, gentle sir?"

The vampire chuckles at the cautious act of the human, silently thinking how useless his defense is when he is wandering alone in the night to begin with.

With a smile as mysterious as the night, he offers the dark red rose to the man, elated in silence as the beauty delicately accepts it.

The man fiddles the stem between his fingers, fixing his eyes on the strangely glowing pair of emerald ones, feeling abashed the longer he stares.

" Has no one warned you not to walk alone under the moon's presence?" He intently watches as the human slightly furrows his brows at the peculiar question,

" And why would anyone warn me so?" He cautiously, trying to be discreet as he possibly can, backs away from the looming figure before his back meets a wall.

The vampire keeps eyeing him, his eyes never straying away from the ocean blue ones, as he approaches the human closer and closer.

" Because, dear beauty.. There are monsters like me lurking in the night to harm pretty things like you," he whispers, and instantly, the beauty finds the creature caging him in his arms against the wall. The vampire takes a whiff of the human's scent, and he gulps.

This human smells so sweet. Divine, even.

" If I'm merciful enough, I would turn you into a vampire and brand you as mine forever... Let's see how my mood is by the end of the night."

The human's eyes widen once more, shaken by the words and the eerie, yet attractive smirk that paints the vampire's lips. Before he knows it, he feels a sharp pain intruding his senses at one side of his neck, and he screams in surprise and pain.

The helpless human is made hyper-aware of all the sensations; his pounding heart, the sharp pain on his neck, how his hot blood is trickling out, the way the vampire laps his neck, the lips kissing the wound from time to time..

He could do nothing as he accepts his fate, powerless to stop the vampire, nor could he hold back his own moans from spilling out.

By the time the creature pulls away, albeit slightly, he takes notice on how the human's head seems to be spinning, how his eyes struggles to focus. The vampire licks his lips in cherish.

" Hmm.. you taste as sweet as you look, beauty,"

Usually, he would drink the blood of his prey until there's nothing left, but there's something about the man caged in his arms that makes him do the opposite of his habits.

" A vampire... Huh?" The beauty huffs, eyes finally focusing on the vampire in front while fresh blood still actively trickles down the graceful curve of his neck.

" I've always wanted to taste one," With a smile all too innocent and alluring, the human lunges forward and take a huge bite out of the vampire's trapezium.

He barely registers the situation until his eyes refocuses on the beautiful face in front of him, now blood soaked as the 'human' chews on a chunk of his own flesh in delight.

The vampire is stunned to silence, only afford to watch the human savour his flesh with both of his eyes closed, humming after he swallows,

" Mmm... A spicy tang to it. I think I quite like it,"

Flashing his sharp fangs and canines to the vampire with a grin.

To be continued..