@phxntxsm
baby pics lol
ojovivo

Discoholic 🪩
Peter Solarz

Love Begins

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PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
styofa doing anything

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I'd rather be in outer space 🛸

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shark vs the universe
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@phantxsm
@phxntxsm
baby pics lol

Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Oh. That face was unsettling. So unsettling. It reminded him. Reminded him of the Court. He didn’t trust this..no, not at all.
He remained unmoving, just barely - if Pharos studied him, the corner of Tyrian’s mouth was lifted, pulled back in the beginning of a snarl as other dipped further into his vicinity.
“A phoenix?”
The wolf echoed, unaware of anything being referred to as that. It must’ve been something from the Unseelie.
@phxntxsm
… ᴛʜᴜs﹐ ᴡʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ ᴄᴏᴍᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴀɴ ᴇɴᴅ﹐ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ﹐ ᴊᴜsᴛ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ﹐ ʜᴇʀ ʀᴜɪɴ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ʙᴇ ʜɪs ʙʟᴇssɪɴɢ.
…
… Uɴᴛɪʟ ᴛʜᴇɴ﹐ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴀsʜᴇs ʀᴇᴍᴀɪɴ.
Foreshadowing out of the way now, Siyon & Hearty bringing you a heavily canon-divergent story about the blade and aegis of Galar, crestfallen rulers of a dystopian kingdom.
The story so far found here!
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Eons of experience
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Ah, yes, another night of terrorizing my discord

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@phxntxsm
THE QUEEN HERSELF
My good boy
Hearty gets no breaks tonight, more at 11
I'm only gonna make this one single post about the current events
But if you support acab I want you to hard block me and all of my blogs right now.
@phantxsm
“Well, well, welly-well-well! Who do we have here? Someone new who wants to play?”
Well this didn’t look like a pokemon. The wolf speaks. Slow, deliberate. The two lanterns behind him chittering and giggling with a hollow rattle.
“What manner of Fae are you?”

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@phxntxsm
Send “📦” for your muse to find a memento of my muse’s past that they keep hidden away or in storage.
Or send “📦+reverse” for the opposite!
(If you cannot see the emoji send “Storage Box”)
There is a specific and terrifying difference between “never were” monsters and “are not anymore” monsters
“The thing that was not a deer” implies a creature which mimics a deer but imperfectly and the details which are wrong are what makes it terrifying
“The thing that was not a deer anymore” on the other hand implies a thing that USED to be a deer before it was somehow mutated, possessed, parasitically controlled or reanimated improperly and what makes THAT terrifying is the details that are still right and recognizable poking out of all the wrong and horrible malformations.
hey I totally fucked up and forgot the 3rd type, which is “Is Not Anymore And Maybe Never Was” monsters “The thing which was no longer a deer and maybe never was” implies a creature that, at first glance, completely appears to be a deer, but over time degrades very slowly until you realize (probably too late) that it is not a deer anymore, and had you seen it in this state first, you wouldn’t have recognized it as a deer at all, and there’s a decent chance that it was never actually a deer to begin with but only a very good mimic, and what makes this one scary is the slow change from everything being right to everything being wrong, happening slowly enough that you don’t even notice it until its too late, as well as the fact that something now so clearly not a deer could have fooled you to begin with.
And the fourth type, which is, “I dunno, but it sure ain’t a deer.” Which implies complete confusion about what the creature could be, to the point that even a person as comfortable in this world as someone who would use the word ain’t unironically is uncertain, which should horrify you to the deepest depths of your soul.
one that i particularly enjoyed was the ‘nonesuch’, a beast which when you see it your brain convinces you ‘nope, no way that shit is real’. on some level it becomes less real after having been seen by someone who disbelieves its existence as well
@rxvenant
@obsidian-informant Starter Call
He STEPS, pitch black particles dance from his chromatic fur. It’s night. It’s dark out. Steeled eyes - Emerald and citrine, there’s a lack of life, there’s no vitality in his gaze. The street lamps stutter, flicker in his wake. The blinding white underside of the beast, the only clearly visible part of the massive wolf.
BEHIND, the dim, smoldering lights, dancing colors, shining glass moving of its own volition as the lanterns of the fae hover, ominously SILENT.
There’s an eerie howl echoing through the streets as the Wolf pads through the street.
In the dead of the night, he hears her voice call to him through the halls of a rotten empire. Through his home, through the decaying streets, her voice beckons and beckons, sometimes taking him in circles, sometimes taking him to places they used to frequent when they were young. Today, her voice took him to the place where she had taken her last breath. Her blade, now an annoyingly terrifying cane that seemed to scowl at him with no eyes, hovers to the spot, lingering with longing.
Again. Once again, he hears her siren call. He hears her memories, the memories that fill the ruination before him.
Her sweet lull brings him back to a better time…a better time.
He stands at the top of the stairs. What was once a grand throne, a jovial, lively, castle that welcomed natives and foreigners. They were loved - he was loved. Tired eyes glaze over, the void and ruin. They were once bright, citrine and jade that danced with pride and vitality. Now, barely more than glass.
Behind him, the fae stand guard. The Governance of Heart, the Governance of Soul. So long as he remains on an undecided path, so too must they protect their charge. He is so tired, though. The Skyrot bears a heavy burden upon his broken heart.
The memories that he refuses to allow die, the memories of his people, his family, his heart, overlay upon the decrepit land. He doesn’t wish to see what is, not while he’s remembering what was.
In his eyes, heavy paws slowly lift, a leisurely gait as he walks with his love. He still remembers her, as she was. The deep ultramarine, the lustrous rosewood red. She glistened, shining in the sun in a blinding beauty.
They watched in heartache. A withered, fatigued frame dragged itself through empty streets. There was no one here to greet him anymore. No one here to comfort him.
Ears lifted, perking up at an invisible voice. He heard her, she said it was time. Time for what?
As if forced out of a peaceful slumber, he shakes his head. Loose, dark purple fur fell from his form, and his ears fall. This was not the elysium dream he was hoping for. There’s nothing here. Black, ruin, the remains of death. This was his reality. This was the world that the Skyrot had claimed. A soft whine. He knows this location all too well. How could he not, this was where his heart died, after all.
It takes him another moment to realize he is not alone, though. His breath catches as he lays eyes upon the cane. The pattern, the aura, the scent. It looked different now, but he knew it all too well. Myrrah’s blade..
The blade that bled her dry.

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@rxvenant
phantxsm replied to your post: Reminder that Argo is what happens when a…
//does vastor also just keep eating when given food lol
More than likely, yeah. Ever since he beat anorexia he fucking eats as if it were his last meal.
Vastor, but a manatee
Edit
NO. CAL. VASTOR AS THAT FUCKING SNOW SHARK