#will write later promise

[sagegreenfrogs]

should i write a tdp howl's moving castle au? perchance?

[fallenclan]

shits gettin REAL!!!! who is pumped. i know i am. enjoy the random ass starclan cat cameos that I crammed in here <3

finished this update JUST in time, but next week I'm gonna be even more busy so I guess we'll see!

First Prev Next

[saltedbiscuiit]

Matching pyjamas mayhaps?:3

[traumawhomst]

The Songbird

Yandere Adoptive Fae King Dad & Child Reader

Part One

King Solaris was in a foul mood, today marked three years since his youngest daughter left to go study with the Northern Sea Witch and he missed her terribly. While three years is not much long to a fae, for a father it seemed an eternity. His court was as it always was, laughter and screams, dancing and bleeding, the same faces, the same smells and he was bored of it all.

“Father,” said his eldest son, watching his father’s tail lash back and forth as he sat on his throne, “might I suggest that you might go for a walk? How long has it been since you’ve been in the crossroads? Surely better to patrol them then stay to stew in your restlessness?”

The King sighed heavily, his flame orange cape draped over the left side of the throne. “Your sister hasn’t written yet,” he said, eyes still on the writhing mass of his court in front of him. His hand moved from propping up his chin to covering his heart, “I should go and see her.”

“Father,” said the eldest son, struggling not to implore the sky herself, “She has not missed a single day of letters, we both know that it will come. Stop sitting like a house cat and find something to take your mind off it until it comes.”

The King sighed even more loudly because he knew his son was right, with a flick of his wrist his cape turned into an emerald green hunter’s jacket standing up. He turned to face his son, seeing the crowd in the reflection of his eyes. His son was taller than him now and it brought a great pride to him. “I leave you to watch til I return my son,” he said with a slight head bow.

His son fully bowed his head, laurel green curls falling past sharp black horns, his hand over his heart, “Thank you for the honor father,” he said.

Solaris couldn’t stop a soft smile thinking of the same boy he brought home all those years ago. He reached out ruffling his sons hair, laughing at the slightly annoyed look his son gave as he stood up height again.

“See you soon father,” said Callan, a touch more dry than before. The King laughed again, turning and completely disappearing from the court.

It had been a while since he’d been in the cross-lands where human and fae territory overlapped. The human area changed from time to time, no one knew where the crossroads would be, and when that would change. When he reached the other side, he found it to be in he same place it had been about fifty years, he counted the years in a tree nearby. It was an early summer day where all the birds and insects were singing together but they knew well enough that the King was not in a fair mood and so went silent in respect.

The King stalked forward hands in his pockets as his mind wandered over the state of the forest, feeling how much closer the humans had settled nearby. He could smell them, even this far away and it irked him more with each passing second. It was odd for the boarder to stay for so long, usually half the time it had been here. He hadn’t cursed a town in quite a while. It might be a good way to bring back respect the humans seemed prone to do.

He was brought out of his thoughts by the sound of a thin reedy but full hearted singing. He clicked his tongue out loud, listening closer to realize it was a human whelp that was singing.

A child should know better than to be loud when the forest is silent. Where is it’s guardian to keep it safe? Or do the humans think we so weak to not show our teeth?

It was an easy task, show himself and play with them a bit, see if they were smarter than their parents. Maybe he’d turn them to a songbird since they seemed to love their voice. A lesson to neglectful parents about teaching your child to walk around the forest alone, as if they owned it.

He did admit that the child did have a rather sweet voice, and he had thoughts of shaping them something into more than just a simple songbird, maybe one that could also speak and mimic. Something he could put in a glass birdcage and listen to when he was bored.

The child was bent over in the dirt, singing some old folk song, hair loosely back dirty and sweaty. Who knows when they last had a bath, the King scoffed internally. Their clothes not much better much too big, covered in a thick layer of dirt. It all only strengthened his resolve to turn them to a songbird they would be treated much better than they were currently.

He stepped into the forest clearing, the air around them both growing thick and wild, a smell of hot summer grass hung like a cloud. The King watched motionless with a smile as the hunched figure froze in place, smart child to know when they were outmatched, no grand heroics or disrespect. The child lifted their face, and the King was oddly pleased, it was cleaner than their hair and he could that the child had spent most of their life facing towards the sun. Their eyes looked the same as a fawn caught in the sight line of a wolf, but their mouth was turned into a hesitant smile.

The King cocked his head to the side at the child’s smile, before he could say a word the child spoke.

“Hello,” they said, their voice soft with a slight tremor but a distinct note of hope, “what’s your name?”

With those simple four words, the Solaris knew that this was to be his third child. A neglected songbird, but with a quick wit and curiosity that spoke of greater things than their tiny village. He wanted to scoop them up, and tell of all the great things they would see and do. But this was not his first time bringing a child of his own. So he smiled as he knelt to be closer to the eye-line. of the child.

“You, songbird, may call me, Solaris, may I know what you to call you songbird?”

When the child’s face brightened, any hesitation was gone, this child was his and he couldn’t wait to bring them home.

[tonydaddingham]

yeah no this is actually my favourite response so far

[comatosebunny09]

you're good at this—playing all coy and social as if you aren't a clump of nerves ready to burst.

like your legs aren't bouncing beneath the table, and you haven't knocked your knees against its underside a few times, almost spilling your wine.

like you haven't bitten your lips to hell, and your teeth aren't stained with the pretty rouge of your lipstick because of it.

no one's the wiser to your plight. to the quiet war waging in your head and the anxiety spilling like lava into your extremities.

you'll never get used to this things, no matter how many you attend—these parties, these galas, these socialites, this acting.

none of it is you.

not the form-fitting gowns, the kohl clumped to your lashes, the facsimile of a smile you've worn all evening until your cheeks ached.

but through the chaos, one thing remains a constant: him.

him and the hand he has clasped around your thigh to tether you. anchor you back to earth. all big and warm and reassuring, and he's angling himself a little closer until your nostrils fill with the scent of cured leather and peeled mandarin. and, fuck all, he’s warm even from this proximity. so hot, you feel the pressure of his body slowly seeping into your own.

his eyes gleam like the sunset in your peripheral. silently, they ask if you're alright beneath a slightly raised brow, above a customary smirk—a mask he dons during these gatherings if only to make the time fly by. not meant to tease you, he promises. he reserves something genuine for you.

he knows you're not alright, which is why he rubs all gently at the notch of your knee—an attempt to bring you back when you feel your mind slowly disconnecting from your body.

- at an event with sylus. you're clearly nervous. you always are. so the pair of you bid an irish goodbye, and he'll murder anyone who has the gall to stop you.

- watching him sneer at the partygoers blocking your exit is low-key a turn on.

- the night concludes with you both settled on your couch in your living room.

- and, of course, kissing ensues. because why wouldn't it?

- and he's a little handsy, so deft fingers creep up the expanse of your thigh because, of course, the slit of your dress would beckon such actions.

- and sure, yeah. you're into it as he gently pushes you back against the sofa. slots himself between your split legs as your fingers rake through the riot of his hair.

- and he hums all nice and low into your mouth, very much enjoying the sticky grind of your lips together.

- this is sylus. he's always gentle. always takes care of you, treating you like aged porcelain preserved in a museum.

- so why the fuck are you so nervous?

- you’ve made out a thousand times before.

- sex, however.

- well, fuck.

[akqrus]

This is ladynoir, ladynoir is this.

[bloobydabloob]

i read all of your asks (i was bored and wanted to learn more about the creation of your art, because as many people have said, it's one of the most inspired, inspiring and. feeling-filled out there?) and i realized you already answered the ask i sent like 30 minutes ago. so a different ask: how old are you? do you see yourself creating art for a living or do you pursue a different kind of career? what lifestyle do you have that allowed you to just draw and look at art for many many hours every day? also your asks and art genuinely made me super inspired to take risks and experiment and do mad scientist stuff to all the programs i downloaded into my new tablet. i want to say thank you and keep up the good work

Hello, thank you. Rest is not homestuck related or even art related really so it goes below cut as always.

I wasn’t ever going to post this gif because I don’t like it but I don’t really expect people to see this ask so it can go here. Also I have nothing else except for taxi driver art. Wow I just found out you can change text sizes on here who knew

I would definitely like to get an opportunity to talk more about art and characters with some of the people on here again, but I worry that it might get tiresome for the people following me to see posts they don’t really care about repeatedly so I’m hesitant to jump into that sort of thing as much as I enjoy it. I wish tumblr allowed “expire in 24 hour” sort of posts so that I didn’t have to ever look at any of them ever again. Thank you for the kind words once more, and I’m heading out to town now to see conclave at my local theatre as I write this. Happy new years !

[notririreal]

there was nothing quite like the view of the ocean at sunset, wine-dark and glimmering. it made a lot of things seem smaller, feel easier to bear. put things into perspective from the hull of your ship.

of course, said perspective right now is the imminent death of your captain, and the beauty of the ocean was but a faint impression in the back of your head while your hands were cupped over his ears, trying to keep him from succumbing to the siren song below. she'll get tired once she realises this is a standoff you're planning to win. her hunger is strong, but your patience is stronger. it has to be.

she ends up swimming away eventually, searching for food elsewhere, and you take jayce to his quarters to talk.

"so," you start, pretending to look over the map on his desk, shifting a brass paperweight to one of the curled edges, "me, huh?"

to his credit, jayce looks sheepish when you meet his eyes, like he wished the siren had been successful in dragging him under. it had taken on the image of something he desired in order to lure him—that something being you. your image.

"yeah," he says, ragged, raw, "you, uh...yeah."

you throw your head back and laugh. what else can you do?

he's a far cry from the elegant navy captain that you know—the loud, self-assured visionary himself: jayce talis. the one you'd been so eager to work alongside, with his booming voice and larger-than-life image. he shone so brightly in your eyes back then. still does, in a way. the thought that you're important enough to affect him like this—that he nearly threw himself overboard at the sight of your image in the water—makes you feel strange.

but not at all unpleasant.

"you are unbelievable, captain," you tut, walking the two steps it takes you to reach him, "nearly died for little old me?"

for a moment, jayce's face burns scarlet, and then it splits out into a blinding smile.

"what can I say," he leans back on his arms, a little more comfortable now, "you're irresistable, you know."

you grin.

"i think i have an idea."

[seokminfilm]

something about you | lee seokmin

🪄 pairing, lee seokmin x reader

🪄 warnings, non-idol au, romance, strangers to ???, mutual attraction (?), meet-cute (?), seokmin is kinda hot, reader is awkward, one or two curse words, he's hot and they're in love your honor

🪄 summary, you finally have a chance to meet the really hot jogger you keep seeing outside of your house. how? by spilling his orange smoothie all over him.

🪄 author's note, yes i'm trying out a new layout (we're entering 2025 soon!)... also this will be my last post before i go on hiatus!! i'm going on a 4-day cruise w my family as a christmas vacation of sorts, but i'll be back by monday <3 don't worry: i have some fics queued up for the days i'm gone!! love u lyr nation (and yes the orange smoothie in the pic was a paid actor)

As you make your way out to your mailbox, you can't help but bask in the sunlight and feel the heat on your skin. It's a nice summer day out today, and everything feels like it's going to go your way─

"Oh, shit!" A profanity comes from behind you, and seconds later, there's orange juice on the pavement of the sidewalk and dripping down your freshly washed hair. Groaning, you turn around at the culprit, ready to give them a handful of your opinion before you pause.

The hot jogger you had your eyes on the past month was behind you with a half-filled smoothie cup in his hand, the rest dripping down the front of his sheer black tank top as he locked eyes with you. A blush paints his cheeks as he realizes the situation, and you can't help but match it, knowing how you've talked and talked about meeting him forever and ever.

"Fuck, I'm─shit, I'm sorry." A string of curses falls from his lips, and you just nod, too focused on his dark eyes and plump, soft lips to even reply.

"No, no, no─uh," Your brain finally catches up with the conversation, and you just shrug, tucking your orange juice-covered hair behind your red ear. "It's my fault. Totally my fault."

It's quiet for a few seconds between the two of you again, and you stare at the now almost empty cup and the wet stain on the front of his top. The male is quiet save for the shuffling of his hand in his pocket to reach for his phone, and you clear your throat, making him stop dead in his tracks.

"You can come inside! I, um─I can clean you up and make you a new smoothie. To repay for the...mishap, I mean," You say quickly, and the male just nods, glancing down at his watch. "Yeah, sure. If you're okay with it."

You knew your house wasn't the cleanest, and your Pomeranian was probably somewhere tearing another one of your missing socks up, but this was your chance. This was your chance of finally meeting the man─the randomly hot jogger you had never met before until you spilled his smoothie all over him─of your dreams.

"Yeah, come on in!" With a cheery voice, you welcome the man into your house, watching him take off his shoes as he takes a quick look around. "Nice place. It's cute."

A blush spreads across your cheek, and you can't help but smile at his compliment. "Thanks! I try to make it mine more and more every day."

Wow, what a great response, you mentally facepalm, and the man takes off his hoodie and baseball cap, revealing a head of silky, dark brown hair. It falls perfectly in front of his eyes, revealing his strong eyebrows, dark brown eyes, and a pretty mole beside his sharp nose.

"I'm Seokmin─" Seokmin sticks out his hand to take yours, and you return the gesture, silently reveling in the softness of his skin. "Nice to meet you, even if this situation isn't exactly ideal." Seokmin laughs nervously, voice light and pretty as you laugh, giving him your name.

"Yeah, yeah. Again, I am really sorry about this─I didn't see you running behind me, and─" You rant, and Seokmin shakes his head, running a hand through his hair.

"It wasn't you, it was me. I should have just stopped and walked around you."

A silence falls between you yet again, and the two of you hold each other's gaze, faces growing hot at the intimate stare. Seokmin's throat swallows quite loudly, and you clear your throat, looking down at the counter as you feign reading the magazine you retrieved from the mailbox.

"Well, I guess I'll try to replicate your smoothie. It probably won't be the best, but I'll give it a shot." You laugh nervously, and Seokmin just shakes his head, cologne wafting over to you as he smiles.

"It's okay, I promise. You don't even have to make me a new one, so─the fact that you're doing this of your own volition is enough." Seokmin's voice is sweet as he smiles at you gently, and your cheeks heat up, smiling as you nod.

"Okay, well─don't be surprised if this is the most disgusting thing you've ever tasted." You shrug, grabbing the oranges from your fridge as Seokmin just chuckles.

"I doubt it will be, but I'll try my aboslute hardest not to be surprised." Seokmin's smile makes your insides warm up, and he winks at you seconds later, causing you to smile at him even more as the two of you begin to talk.

As you begin to cut the fruits and Seokmin and you begin to chat, you both have a feeling that this mishap is going to turn into something more.

Maybe even be one of the best mishaps to happen to you both.

[xarology]

Clouds Across the Moon

TFP!Starscream x Reader

Non-canon complacent since this is extremely self indulgent and a vent piece ijbol

A piercing ‘thud’ wakes you in the middle of the night. You swear you felt your room shake and you’re jumping out of bed. Your mind is racing with all the things that could’ve prompted such a ruckus. This was unlike any break-in you could imagine. No car could’ve crashed either, because why would they? Your house was isolated in the mountains, no person in their right mind would be racing on the poorly paved dirt road to your house.

You take your chances and stumble your way out the front door oh my god it's a jet. A jet that ran through your shed and squashed your garden.

The rage you feel is squashed when you realize the canopy of the jet is still closed. Your blood turns cold as you shuffle closer. You're hesitating and you don't know why.

That shuffle becomes a sprint as you finally realize that a person could be stuck in there. Your body feels numb and you're too aware of how awake your mind is right now.

It doesn't feel real when you grab the stray manual weeder from the ground. It doesn't feel real when you start hitting the edges of the glass as hard as you can. You're convinced you're not yelling 'It's okay!' and 'I've got you' to the person inside the cockpit and yet you hear your voice anyway.

The plane rattles jarringly and lets out a wail as you make a crack in the glass. It startles you enough that you're backing away from it. You think 'This thing is going to blow' and your heart drops. You couldn't save the person inside and you certainly can't run away from this explosion. And yet, you try anyway. Your feet shuffle away from the jet and instead of turning tail, you fall flat on your ass as the jet shakes the ground underneath you. You're covering your head and bracing for impact, trembling at the sound of metal shifting against each other.

It grows quiet and you're wondering if you're still alive. You look up, and apparently not. A giant human-like metal man is lying up with one elbow, its other hand at their side and covering up their torso. The sounds of stressed metal groans as it moves its weight around.

You can't see what type of injury it has or the extent of it, but from what you can tell of its snarled face, it's not good. You think it's your rationale that possesses you to take a step forward. If you didn't end up dead by the explosion then you're going to end up dead by the scary-looking metal man, so why not try to help it.

But your logic is stupid. It hasn't seen you yet so run! Hide! Stand like a deer and hope it never sees you. Let it be occupied with themselves. Let it bleed its weird alien blood onto your garden and wait for it to die.

It doesn't matter anyway, you've already moved and it's already seen you. Their eyes still you as your foot comes forward and it speaks. "Not one step", it (he?) hisses at you, baring his teeth and flaring his wings out in intimidation. You've dealt with feral cats before, this one won't be any different (only that he's enormous and could so easily squish you). And yet, you walk forward anyway.

vent piece because a car crashed into my house the other day and all I could think about was "How do I make this about Transformers"

[sausage-rolll]

My take on the promised consort.

I believe that Radahn held the stars in place when Ranni began fearing her fate. She never wanted to become a puppet to the two fingers, and Radahn knowing this attempted to hold off her destiny for as long as possible. Though he likely knew that it would be an inevitability. The only other two living empyreans were cursed afterall. 

There was no way that Miquella or Malenia would be able to take Marika’s place, the two fingers weren’t even the slightest bit interested in either of them. Malenia was already claimed by the God of Rot and Miquella was perpetually in a state of adolescence. Ranni seems to be the only one who was ever actively bothered by her fingers and I believe this is because they had an intense desire for her to be the next god, assuming Miquella and Malenia as lost causes due to their curse.

I think this is when Miquella came to Radahn with a proposition. He will be seeking godhood. Even if the two fingers had no interest in him, even if the world thought him too small and frail to ascend, he was going to find a way, no matter the consequences. He was determined to become the next God and lead the world into an era of abundance and peace. To fix the mistakes of the past.

He only had one simple request.

“Promise me, you’ll be my consort.”

If Miquella were to ascend then Ranni would be free of her duty. She’d be able to live in peace knowing that she’d never have to be controlled by another's will. She wouldn’t have to become a god, she wouldn’t have to succeed queen Marika. And to top it all off, Radahn would get to play the role of his hero Godfrey. Ushering in a new era alongside a new god.

It was perfect.

That was, until the night of the black knives. The night the world was thrown into chaos. The night that the first demigods fell. And the night that he lost his sister.

Radahn likely wouldn’t have known about Ranni’s plot and would have thought her dead alongside the other victims of the night. Ranni was gone, and with her, so too was Radahns need for Miquella’s age.

I believe Radahn, fueled by grief, rage and the mad taint of his greatrune, denounced Miquella and struck out on his own as a warrior of the shattering. He didn’t need peace, he didn’t need Miquella. All he wanted was to fight. All he wanted now was endless war.

Maybe that would be enough to dull the pain of his loss? Not only the loss of his sibling and father, but also the loss of his purpose.

-

Now picture Miquella. Making the final preparations to begin his ascension. Only there’s one problem. His consort has abandoned him at the very last moment. As it turns out, it seems Radahn never really cared for Miquella or his visions for a new age, he was only really in it for his own gain. 

Imagine how devastated Miquella would be. Knowing that yet another one of his plans had fallen apart at the finish line. That the person he trusted to rule alongside him didn’t even hesitate to abandon him when it was no longer convenient for him.

His ascension to godhood would never happen. He would never be able to heal his sister. He would never be able to bring forth an age of compassion. He would never be able to right the wrongs of the past.

He had failed again.

Now imagine how furious this would make his people. How angry his followers and his sister would be to see Miquella rejected at such a pivotal moment. To see him mourning a consortship and an age that would never come to pass.

Is there really any wonder that they chose to march towards Caelid and deliver the promised consort by force?

[sickficideas]

WIP Wednesday 👽

dandadan edition...hopeing to finish this soon ! 👽🎉

[seungcheorry]

"all the girls are girling, girling", i say, as i drink my monster energy drink and walk around with my vernon photocard.

[heart-of-the-morningstar]

I had a malicious spell placed upon me (period started) and am suffering through the curse (cramps)

[6okuto]

heads up :p

hello. archiving my blog soon. like in the next month or so. not shocking. i still have a lot to queue but i needed to say this so i can't back out for the gazillionth time 😭 i don't have a new blog and i'm not sure if or when i'll be back. as for 6okuto, i probably won't delete it! probably.

thanks for being here for almost 3 years!! it was really nice writing for the first time and getting to know you guys. please take care of yourselves, and i hope you have a good end to 2024! ^^

and just a final request to tell creators you enjoy their work. i can't tell you how many times one kind person stopped me from doing this a lot earlier. please help make tumblr a kinder and stronger community !!

regular pinned - masterlists