#solarpunk au

[sdwolfpup]

(Credit to effulgent-girl for the graphic!)

Chapters: 11/23 Fandom: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth Characters: Brienne of Tarth, Jaime Lannister, Tyrion Lannister, Cersei Lannister, Tywin Lannister, Selwyn Tarth Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Solarpunk, Alternate Universe - Space, Alternate Universe - Future, No Twincest, Mild Angst, Happy Ending, once again i am asking how did this happen, the science in this is sketchy at BEST, we're using arthur clarke's third law excessively here, Mutual Pining, yet again the angst has been reclassified to moderate, i should know better by now but here we are, Yearning, Space Opera, but mostly it's on earth, minor scenes of violence

Chapter Summary:

Jaime started making tea, looking so at ease with the movements that she couldn't stop staring at him. There was none of the awkwardness or anger of those early days as he quickly heated the water and gathered normal-sized teacups that looked small in his strong hands. When he turned to ask what type of tea they wanted, he caught her staring and grinned. Brienne's cheeks heated and she looked down at her own big, freckled hands. Her fingers had looked even paler against his golden skin, like streaks of cosmic dust.

---

Author note: Another year has gone by so time to update my solarpunk JB AU again, heh. I’ve got 7 chapters in the hopper this time and hope to have the rest ready to go once those are done. Can I possibly finish this fic in 2024? Survey says: I have no idea, but there’s a chance.

[pumpkinnning]

INCREDIBLY intrigued by solarpunk au, may i hear some about it? hehe

ahaha well this is actually a folder of follow ups to my one shot sunshine, starflowers, salamander root in which sebchal are solarpunk wizards in a mostly utopian futuristic-magical city (the vibes are kind of like Miyazaki meets Star Trek but make it fantasy and with interdimensional travel instead of space)

The idea is to write more slice of life one shots at different times of their life - Charles' job is to travel across dimensions while Seb works in a little magic shop on top of a hill overlooking the harbor and they keep in touch via an inter-dimensional radio that Seb made. Very fluffy and whimsical with some more bittersweet moments and the yearning associated with long-distance relationships.

One in particular I really want to write is them having to get married as an emergency the night before Charles leaves and them going through the city to find someone to marry them at this late hour and going through a lot of crazy little adventures. The first one was really fun to write and a nice change from the angsty vibes i usually go for so i really want to go back to it at some point.

Thank you for asking !

[envihellbender]

Solarpunk MLM

So I did a sort of… D&D if it was set in a Solarpunk future type world.

Characters: Tegin Riverbelly, Ilam Flinteye

Summary: Hundreds of years ago the rich ate to become immobile beasts whilst the poor starved. Those that survived learned to survive on their guts, and now there are towns, cities, and countries that have created beautiful landscapes on their adipose. Some countries have the mountains of human flesh to work from, some have the swamps of lizardfolk, elven fat is better for performing magic, and tiefling fat tends to house the slums.

—

Tegin’s family had never left Dewwell before their youngest son got a job in the city. His parents lived in the house their grandparents had lived in, and their grandparents had lived in, and so on and so forth. They weren’t convinced that it was a good change even when Tegin said the best place for programmers was in a dry landscape. That was baffling to his father who’d been a fisherman just like his father, and his father, and his father, and so on and so forth. He never understood Tegin’s love for mechanics and computers, most of Dewwell didn’t. That was why he adored Hesshara, an elf dominant city that was raised on elven adipose. There they had learned to use the magic in the ground and the sun from the sky to bring technology back to what it had been before the immobile ancestors began. That was the sort of thing Tegin’s family considered heretical, and that was precisely why he needed to be far, far away from there. It certainly wasn’t an easy move. For one thing in his office he was the only halfling, the workplace like the city was predominantly elven. Prior to him working there the closest they’d had to a halfling employee was a gnome, who he’d had to explain to his manager Lumaris Rivermoon was not the same thing.

Thankfully the people were nice enough, even if they it didn’t occur to them to that Tegin needing several cushions on his chair and a stepladder to get to well, everything, was not making the place an accessible inclusive workspace. After he’d been working there a month and growing used to the conditions he was curious to learn from Lumaris that they had hired another halfling. Tegin had to admit he was quite pleased as well, perhaps now there would be two of them the office might become more accommodating, he thought. So when he came to work the next day, he found that there someone had arrived early and sat on a chair next to his, leaning awkwardly over to his computer as if he was sat on a pile of cushions, Tegin couldn’t stop himself from hurrying over to introduce himself.

When he got there however he stopped in his tracks and looked at the newcomer a little hesitantly. He wasn’t quite what he was expecting, normally halflings were cheerful and difficult to shut up. This one however wore a hoodie that he had pulled down over his eyes, he was tapping away at his phone and nervously looked up when Tegin approached. His eyes widened, his eyes that Tegin was sure had a vertically slit pupil.

“Hey there,” he said nervously putting out a hand to shake a little too quickly. “I’m- I’m Tegin. We haven’t met-”

“Ilam,” he responded tentatively shaking the hand before withdrawing his strangely long fingers with oddly sharp nails. “It’s nice to meet you,” he added hastily.

“Ah- yes,” Tegin said eventually. He realised it wasn’t just his shyness that perturbed him - Ilam was clearly mixed race, a halfling with … something else. Tegin mentally berated himself, how could he be so close minded? He thought. “Well, that’s my work space so… if you need anything,” he smiled. He was happy to see that Ilam hadn’t touched his space at all, something he’d heard from those who didn’t have to stay in the same spot due to their height was a common problem.

Apart from being a little standoffish, never lowering his hood and having a penchant for knee length kilts over his jeans, Ilam seemed perfectly pleasant to work with. He never forced conversation with Tegin, he always said ‘hello’ and ‘thank you’. As nice as it was to have someone like him, it actually was quite anticlimactic for a while.

However, things changed one night when Tegin was working late. In hindsight he thought Ilam mustn’t have realised that the building wasn’t empty. As a result when Tegin left through the back exit into the employees’ garden he saw something that caused him to feel a cold sense of dread through his chest. He felt it even before he knew Ilam’s secret and he couldn’t explain it. He berated himself for a moment when he realised that the silhouette he saw was Ilam. He got closer intending to say hello but for some reason something stopped him. Ilam was leaning against a tree trunk and tapping into his phone, just underneath the solar panel which powered the cell tower and gathered light reflected from the shine of the elven fat that made up their earth.

There was one key difference which meant it took Tegin a moment to recognise him- he didn’t have his hood up. Tegin saw his hair - mohawk with two pointed tufts of hair poking up… except the latter was not hair. They were two rounded pointed ears. He thought it must have been a novelty headband until he saw that Ilam had fur where his ears would normally have been on a humanoid. He saw the black spots on his pale skin going down the sides and back of his neck. He froze and stared, until he saw Ilam looking back at him with wide, horrified eyes. Before Tegin could react, Ilam turned, dropped his phone and ran.

Tegin was surprised at how calm he was about the situation, it was a shock of course but the fact that Ilam fled as well as his behaviour up until now seemed to suggest he wasn’t rabid or aggressive. They were alone, he could’ve turned and attacked Tegin easily. Instead he left. It made sense, why he kept his hood up, why he was reluctant to talk… He was half gnoll. It seemed obvious now, of course they wouldn’t hire him if they knew. Tegin returned to where Ilam had stood and picked up his phone. Well, there was one way to show that he intended to keep his secret.

The next day at work, Tegin arrived early to try and ensure he’d have some quiet time with Ilam. A potential problem struck when Tegin entered the office and saw leaning over Ilam’s desk a lanky, busybody elf. Tegin knew instantly it was their manager Lumaris and also had a good idea on how to deal with him.

“It’s simply that its unprofessional to wear a black hoodie in the work place, never mind with the hood up,” Lumaris said patronisingly, as Tegin approached from behind. The elf wasstanding so close to Ilam that even Tegin could tell he was uncomfortable.

“Erm- I- erm- well-” Ilam stammered, his pale cheeks burning a deep red.

“Excuse me, Sir,” Tegin interrupted, a fake smile plastered on his face. Ilam tensed as Tegin approached clearly expecting the situation to worsen. Lumaris turned surprised, initially looking forwards and then down at the halfling. “Yes, Ilam probably feels a bit awkward explaining but I think he might be a devotee to Urogolan?” Tegin lied, immediately causing Lumaris to tense and widen his eyes in alarm.

“Urogolan?” He responded, a slight stammer to his well spoken and usually smooth voice.

“Oh! Sorry! He’s the halfling God of death and the earth. Devotees usually keep the hair covered in public spaces, it’s seen as extremely offensive to ask someone-” Tegin continued to which Lumaris raised his hands and shook his head.

“Ah! Say no more! I am terribly sorry, Ilam. I- erm- obviously I respect- if you require any days off for religious reasons please- anyway, excuse me,” he spluttered before hurrying to his office. Tegin smiled as Ilam stared at him dumbfounded whilst Tegin looked through his shoulder bag and pulled out Ilam’s phone.

“You dropped this, by the way,” Tegin said putting it in front of him.

“Why- why did you stick up for me?” Ilam said in a small soft voice. Tegin shrugged and made his way to his desk next to Ilam’s. “I don’t… I don’t understand why-”

“Halflings gotta stand together, right?” Tegin said as he turned on his computer.

“But you know-”

“That you have a great mohawk?”

“No…”

“Don’t worry, your mohawk’s safe with me,” he winked before he began his work, a small smile on his lips.

[hybbart]

Day 2565: Finally somewhere safe with his rancher again, covered in sores, Jimmy's become rather lethargic and hauls up in bed while Tango takes care of things. What happened to Hels and anything about him is something they've left to the others. For a little while it almost feels like being back on the ranch. Even if it isn't here, for once Tango thinks he won't have much resistance to suggesting they stay put for a while.

It helps having an avian host to supply stuff for a nest when your own avian is nearly nonverbal levels of comatose.

[delta-pavonis]

Dreamling Week 2024 Day 1

banner art by Leikan Jeyifo

Challenge to myself for this week: use all prompts for all days, write a short bit each day.

Bonus thing that happened while writing: this turned into a non-linear solarpunk urban fantasy AU. *shrugs helplessly*

Dreamling Week 2024 Day 1 Prompts (from @mr-sadman): Hunt, Body Swap, Indulgence, First Time

Dreamling || Rated T || 813 words

tags (other than the prompts above): fantasy, urban fantasy, hunting capturing and pinning someone to the ground is pretty much foreplay right?, scenting, banter, discussion of fucking during body swap

“Got you,” Hob thrills at hearing the voice he now commands come out as that rumbling purr he loves so much. “Do you yield?”

He looks down to see his own face twisted with a familiar sneer that he has never seen on his own features. “Absolutely not.” 

It is decidedly strange to hear his own voice this way–not quite similar enough to trigger the embarrassment one feels when listening to a recording, but still disconcerting. 

Then again, all of this is disconcerting and decidedly strange. He is currently inhabiting the body of his work partner, a drow who Hob had fallen ass over tea kettle for decades ago. He is using said drow’s body to pin his own to the dirt in a forest clearing outside the overgrown castle ruins they just investigated. They are now speaking again after a long stretch of silence, a silence that was only interrupted because their respective bosses told them they had to work together on this case. Which was very much not how Hob had imagined their reconnection going, but beggars can't be choosers. Or so humans say.

Hob is learning quickly that drow not only look different than other elf-kin, but that they see, hear, and smell differently, too. It makes sense, given that their senses are attuned to a vastly different environment, but as a half wood-elf he had just never thought of it before.

As Hob lowers his face, Dream's long white hair cascades over his shoulder. “I was hoping you'd say that.”

He flexes his hands around the wrists he has pinned and spreads them wider, giving him a stance with the leverage to hop up and have his feet come down between Dream-in-his-body’s calves with enough force to pry his legs apart. The elf beneath him grunts as his thighs splay and their pelvises crash together. Even through the armor-spelled denim they wear Hob can feel how aroused his friend is, no matter how he denies or ignores it.

“I feel it is rather narcissistic of you to enjoy the possibility of a sexual encounter with your own body.” He relishes the breathlessness he can hear in his own voice, how the body beneath him trembles. Hob knows exactly what has to happen to drive his own body to that point and if he is causing that in Dream… well. He was rather hoping they could have one of their catfight fuck sessions before the curse wears off.

“Come on,” Hob says, enjoying the rough, raw sexuality he can convey with just a slight change in tone with Dream’s vocal cords. “It gives a whole new meaning to go fuck yourself.”

It is fascinating to see what is so clearly Dream's eyeroll cross his own face. Drow vision is far more sensitive to movement than his own and it allows Hob to see even the slightest twitch of brow or flutter of lashes or movement of lips. It is kind of distracting, all this detail.

But that is nothing compared to the distraction of this sense of smell. Hob is no doubt never ever going to get this chance again, so he might as well indulge a little while he can. He drops his face into his own neck and inhales deeply. “Tannatell’s tits do I always smell this good to you?” Hob repeats the act, this time dragging his nose up into chestnut hair as he breathes in. “How can you work like this? I’d be on the edge of coming all the goddamned time. No wonder progress on this case has been so slow, you’re the smart one and you only have half your blood going to your brain. Fuck, it is like I am… your...” he trails off as that thought completes itself in his head. 

Oh.

Now, drow vision might have traded brightness of color for its enhanced sensitivity to motion, but there is no doubt, when Hob lifts back up and looks down, that there is a fiercely red blush on Dream's cheeks. And Dream refuses to meet his gaze.

Hob lets go of the wrists he holds and sits back on his heels so he is kneeling between Dream's thighs. He watches as the other elf brings his hands to his chest, rubbing gently at them where Hob's grip was tightest. Dream keeps his head turned to the side the whole time. 

“Dream, why didn't you t-”

“Don't. Just don't.” His eyes close and his face crumples into something pained. It guts Hob to think that this is something painful for Dream. “The first time we talk about this can't be like… I do not want it to…” Hob has never heard Dream fumble for words and it is distressingly alarming. “I would prefer to be in my own body when we have this conversation, please.”

Hob can't do anything but grant that request.

[battiegutz]

concept art fr my new iteration :3 still dunno what 2 call it tho hrm

[meta-quest]

recent-ish doodles

for @/re-ivan-nn; @/inkwellberry; aiper.

put them in the order how much i like them

[solarpunkani]

I think one thing I struggle with when it comes to wanting to write Solarpunk stories is like

I like writing conflicts. But I don’t know how to write large conflicts—so something like ‘dismantling the government to install a solarpunk society in its place’ is way too big of a fish for me to fry

But also small conflicts just don’t do it for me. I just can’t stay entertained with them long enough. So something like ‘little Maisy lost her favorite doll and its up to her older brother to find it. Oh btw they live in a solarpunk society’ wouldn’t get past like one page if I tried it

But how fantastical can one get before a society is no longer solarpunk but just… fantasy? How far out of the realm of reality can you get before it just seems hollow? But how close can you stay? How much conflict can you have before your hopeful vision of a solarpunk future is no longer hopeful and no longer solarpunk? How big of an issue can you create in a solarpunk society, what kind, while still keeping it solarpunk? While still having a problem that can’t just be handwaved with ‘that wouldn’t happen in solarpunk’?

And of course logically I know the answer is different for everyone. But like. Still. How derivative can you get, how much conflict can you add, before a story intended to be solarpunk just becomes ‘random urban fantasy but with round roofs stained glass and a lot more greenhouses?’

[klodwig]

requested #kylux solarpunk AU

In the name of our GREAT SUN ☀️ "Sun, bless our great Leader and his First General!"

I couldn't make this au without glass at all, so it's also hanahaki. The flowers have already sprouted. Boutonnieres are in vogue among the common people.

[veemeowmeow]

🌱☁️🌼

Forgot about tumblr again hiiiii🥺🎀

[sdwolfpup]

From the next (and last for a few months 😬) chapter of Our souls lie down in the grass:

“Don't you have campaigning to do?” Brienne asked Ron. “I don't need to—I'm already going to take your father down. Do you want me to humiliate him more than I already will be, Beauty?” Jaime went taut next to her, and she shot him a look to stay put. “It'll be for the best when I win,” Ron continued with barely a pause. “We can't have a Steward whose own daughter is giving it up to a Lost One. Especially a murderer.” Before Jaime could move, Brienne pushed herself to her feet, straightening to her full height to tower over Ron. Behind him, Richard and Edmund nervously backed away. Jaime remained on the blanket, watchful but unconcerned, and she loved him even more in that moment for trusting her to handle this. She channeled her father, speaking more calmly than the blood rushing into her hands urged. “Don't call him that again.”

[bluejaybytes]

"I have non-Splatoon OCs!" says guy about to draw one of his few fully original OCs as an Inkling instead

[hybbart]

Day 1998: Getting close to the stables, the group stop at a park to camp for the night. Even with the gardens and forests growing over everything it's nice to have tables and washrooms.

Love ones at twilight

[delta-pavonis]

Dreaming Week 2024 Day 3

Dreamling Week 2024 Day 3 Prompts (from @mr-sadman): solarpunk, painting, meet cute, massage

Dreamling || Rated T || 1093 words

tags (other than the prompts above): fantasy, urban fantasy, solarpunk, drow druid/sorcerer Dream, half wood elf bard/gunsmith Hob, investigator partners with a history, they get captured and held for days as torture, passing mention of biological consequences of being tied to chairs for days on end, confessions

Read Part 1 here. Part 2 here.

(In chronological order, Part 2 comes before Part 1 and this comes after Part 1. Mentions events of Part 1 and events discussed in Part 2.)

“When we get out of this the first thing I am doing is getting a three hour massage, bloody fuck these chains are tight.” Dream tries to twist his wrist to get some wiggle room and can't even manage that; all the movement does is jostle their chairs. His partner whines. “You alright there, Hob?”

They are chained to a pair of chairs, back to back, with heavy steel links. The chains aren't spelled, but they don't need to be when they are this tight: there is no way Dream will pull off even the smallest somatic component restrained like this and Hob certainly can’t play an instrument or draw a gun. Even worse, the room is unnaturally dark.

Dream hadn’t realized how used he had gotten to the sunlight and the greenery of the surfacelands until they were taken from him. For a moment he takes comfort in thoughts of twirling tree branches forming the beams of great towers, arched windows carefully grown in between, columns of elevators going so high they meet the top of the building in the clouds. He thinks of winding streets made of sandstone and brass and overflowing with greenery, the whirring music of solar panels as they track the sunlight along with their flower-kin. 

The thought of the movement of the sun reminds Dream that time has been passing, that they have been in here long enough that he is starting to have trouble tracking time–the only clock he has to go by is his heartbeat and that is only reliable for so long. Hunger has long since passed into a dull ache, which tells him it must be more than a couple days. Both of them have vacated all the remaining volume of foodstuffs left in their digestive tracts, removing another marker of time. 

They have not seen another soul since they awoke here. There is a dim illumination that comes from… somewhere, but Dream cannot pinpoint it. It is only enough to see his own knees by, make out the faintest outline of the large stone blocks of the ceiling that is a mere few feet above their heads. It is not enough for Hob to see anything, dull as his half-human senses are. 

Cruelly enough, water drips from the seams in the stone structure in a few places, landing on the top of their heads, on Hob’s shoulder and chest, on Dream’s cheek. It is the bare minimum to keep them alive and Dream suspects that is very much on purpose.

Dream leans his head back with a sigh and it presses against Hob's. 

“You ever wonder what would have happened if we met under different circumstances?” Hob's speech is slurred enough that it makes Dream reconsider if those arrows they got hit with were a poison targeted for those of the surface. It adds a new layer to the puzzle of who has captured them. “Like, if I wasn't working that night in the tavern, wasn't being the biggest distraction possible?” He is silent for a beat. “I would've asked to join you at your table. Start back up properly, like old friends might. But we’re not friends, are we?” His chuckle is hollow. “No, most definitely not. Perhaps I would’ve tried to woo you with song… paint you a picture with music. Gods, you were so beautiful. Are. So beautiful.”

“Hob…” He doesn't sound like himself, can't possibly be meaning to say any of this. 

“Do you have any idea how badly I want you? Fuck, like all the time. From the very first moment I saw you, when you walked into the Guildhall while I was trying to convince them to hire me. I can even still hear the swissh-click of your airwalker boots on the wooden floor.” Dream can hear him swallow. “It never goes away, you know? This yearning for you. It lives inside me now.”

He closes his eyes and tries to ignore it. Hob cannot be meaning to say this right now and Dream certainly does not want to hear it without Hob’s consent; he is relieved when they lapse into silence once again. 

But it doesn't last.

“If you get a chance to escape, you have to promise me to take it, even if you can't get me out.” Hob’s voice is a threadbare whisper.

No. They can't talk like this. He won't have it. “Hob, you’re-”

“I am not delirious and I am not talking nonsense!” He is panting now and Dream swears he can hear Hob's racing heartbeat. It is another piece of evidence that he is not himself. “Promise me, Dream. Promise me you will save yourself if you have the chance, even at my expense.”

“No.” Absolutely not. Dream's answer is immediate and brooks no argument; he won't even consider it. The idea is anathema, like teaching the Druidic language outside of a Circle or attempting to unbalance Nature itself. “I will not leave without you.” 

Hob’s breath rate is increasing, pushing into hyperventilating, and his voice is unsteady as a newborn foal’s legs. He sounds almost on the verge of tears and it makes something in Dream’s heart crack. “Please, Dream! I need you to promise me.”

He grits his teeth hard enough to make them squeak. “I will make no such vow.” Dream growls. It is harsh, he knows, but he will also not lie to Hob. Not after everything they’ve been through. 

They never got a chance to talk about it, what lay implied between them from their adventure with that soul-swapping curse. Not properly. Not before this case, which pretty much immediately went tits up. Fuck, they should have spoken about it. 

Dream adds this to his long ledger of regrets.

When Hob speaks again the words are clearly forced through a rising tide of panic. “I need to know you’ll be safe, that y-” 

“Breathe Hob. We don’t need to plan-”

“Promise me!” he sobs. “I need to know you wi-”

That something in Dream breaks.

“I will not leave without my Mate!”

For a moment the only sound in the small room is Hob’s panting, then Dream lets his head fall back; this time it lands on Hob’s shoulder with a dull whump.

“You were right. What you felt during the curse.” Dream closes his eyes. “I am sorry I didn’t tell you. I just… we were… we’ve been…”

Hob turns his head, twists his shoulders, as much as possible, until his nose nudges the point of Dream’s ear. “Stupid. We’ve been truly. Amazingly. Stupid.”

[battiegutz]

concepts fr solarpunks april nd venus hrmggg def not gonna be their final designs but brain fog is bad todae so no more drawin fr now eugh

[bigmammallama5]

lena as the castle's resident court wizard and kara as the castle's resident jester

lena the court's witch and kara the captain of the guard tho