sparrowsworkshop

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Because of You - TFP Soundwave AMV

Every now and then, I make AMV's! Here's one I made at the end of January. Might as well share it here, yeah? ;) Oh, it contains spoilers for TFP all the way through S3, just so you know. Had to get all those epic Soundwave scenes!

#animated music video #tfp soundwave #videos #sparrow edits #because of you tfp amv #amv #tfp amv #transformers prime #tfp #transformers: prime #soundwave #maccadam #i'm actually very happy with the random thumbnail. it's actually a very nice frame. youtube did good for once. #i made it in one day because i was having way too much fun lol. you'll see why once you watch it #youtube

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Bookends

~ From the first page unto the last, Yes, I will stand by you, steadfast. The weight you hold up lessens true When my will grants new strength to you. Between us, countless, profound words Fill pressing space with praise unheard. Folded, covered, and bound with care, There never was a greater pair Than you and I, and me and you, To bear the burdens made for two. You still stand by me, yes, steadfast, From the first page unto the last. ~

"Bookends" poem by OneWingedSparrow Screenshots from Darkness Rising Part 1 / Predacons Rising Read on AO3

~

#thanks for reading! #cee bee siblings #tfp spoilers #predacons rising #darkness rising part 1 #predacons rising spoilers #tfp arcee #tfp bumblebee #arcee #bumblebee #maccadam #tfp #transformers prime #poetry #rhyming poem #salt and light #transformers #transformers: prime #bookends #sparrow poetry #cee bee bookends

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go to settings > to the right, under "Blogs," pick the blog you want to change the settings of > scroll down to visibility settings > turn on "Prevent third-party sharing for [blog url]" > do this for each individual blog you have

#signal boost

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Whatever happens, I'll never forget you ~ I am so pumped for "Car Trouble" by Owl City!!! You would not believe your eyes ! :D Hearing his lovely preview gave me so many ideas—I already know that that song is gonna fit Prime in Disguise Bumblebee so well. Can't wait till it releases on March 1st! 🎉 In the meantime, I went and revisited the original demo, "Floppy Fish." I've always loved it, but listening to it now, after "Car Trouble," made me instantly think the demo would make a perfect Cee Bee Siblings song. <3 I had to make this as fast as I could, so I put metal to the pedal. ✨ Enjoy my TFP Arcee & Bumblebee AMV! (Contains spoilers all through the end of Transformers: Prime...and beyond.)

#owl city #floppy fish #cee bee siblings #sparrow amvs #tfp spoilers #bumblebee #arcee #tfp amv #tfp arcee #tfp bumblebee #prime in disguise bumblebee #sparrow nerds about transformers #maccadam #transformers amv #transformers prime #transformers: prime #robots in disguise 2015 #rid15 #DO NOT TAG THIS AS SHIP #Youtube

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"Alighting the Darkness" by OneWingedSparrow for @dubiiousfood

This is my Loftwing Letter for @dubiiousfood, for the event hosted by @zelinkcommunity ! I hope you like this TP Zelink fluff! <3 Main Tags: Twilight Princess, Post-Canon, Married Zelink, Fluff without Plot Summary: Following the events of the Twilight, Zelda comes to realize how Link places light wherever she needs it. Read on AO3 Reblogs are appreciated! ~ The populace of Hyrule could perhaps say that they knew a “time before Twilight, and the two times thereafter.” Though most Hyruleans had been unknowingly turned to spirits during the curse over the kingdom, and, were therefore oblivious to the atrocities committed by the Usurper King Zant, they were nevertheless aware enough that, in the past, there had first been a time of grim foreboding; then, a time of great fear; and at last, a grand time where the great fear was graciously extinguished.

Queen Zelda, however, dwelt upon a different timeline. The time before Twilight, and the two times thereafter, mattered not nearly so much as these:

The time before Link, and all time thereafter.

~

She saw her Hero first in his accursed form of a blue-eyed beast; and, even in the darkness cast over the castle, everything about the wolf before her seemed to gleam. The iron shackle clinging to his leg, the grinning fangs escorting his growl, even the artful patterns streaking his dark fur with a lighter shade. A snarling predator stalking into her chamber should not have been a source of encouragement, but Zelda could sense the spirit within the flesh, and her weary eyes smiled faintly under her hood as she watched him stride towards her.

You are the light, she told him within her mind, as she removed her hood and his growling instantly ceased. The foretold, sacred light Hyrule desperately needs.

She beheld in him the Hero chosen by the gods. She foresaw in him the Hero destined to bring Hyrule back into the light, as a careful goatherd would direct his flock out of the storm and safely into shelter. In spite of her gifted Wisdom, however, she did not perceive in him the Hero chosen to guideherback into light as well. Such an epiphany revealed itself only during their future marriage.

~

Rebuilding the castle was a lengthy endeavor. While the structure was not demolished entirely, the brutal clash between Midna’s Fused Shadows and the demon beast Ganon left several stones unthroned. While the construction crews travailed the necessary renovations, the queen and her fiancé spent much time outdoors, in the quiet courtyards where pink and yellow flowers still dared to bloom, ever defiant towards the evil that once shadowed them.

Verily, Zelda might have found superior productivity in her study, where her paperwork was not at risk of being spied on by scouting ants or swept away by the teasing breeze. Even so, she chose to eschew her old habits. Her productivity might have lessened outdoors, but her motivation only increased. After all, how could she not be delighted by the golden-bodied beetles Link presented to her with a flourish, or the merry tunes he played for her on whistlegrass when no one else remained in earshot?

In the courtyard, with his subordinates standing vigil, Link never needed to be on constant guard, to uphold his duty as her appointed protector first and foremost. When they would travel Hyrule, of course, checking in on each province, he shouldered his responsibility with grave focus, standing tall as both the Hero of Twilight and the Captain of the Hylian Knights. But here, under the oak trees and the dappled sunlight, where the windchimes laughed and the stepstones wandered—here, as the beetles spread their wings and buzzed away from his open palms, and the blithe melody of the grass summoned a hawk to cheer a chorus—here, with her, he could be simply Link, grinning and teasing to make her smile even while she worked. It felt quite like a forgotten childhood come back to greet them, Zelda thought, or perhaps a bright tomorrow welcoming them anew.

~

A castle is a fortress first, a sanctuary second, and a home last of all. The larger a window, the more accessible an invader’s point of entry. Thus, many long corridors were illuminated only by braziers, their warmth spaced apart by the ghostly fingers of drafts ever haunting the stone walls. Over her lifetime, Zelda’s eyes grew accustomed to the enclosed dim; Link, however, had a newcomer’s keen eye for all improvements that could be made.

“It’s dark in here,” he said once of their bedchamber, as he scrutinized the curtains and ran his hand over the thick, embroidered fabric. “Does the brown color please you?” “It keeps out the sun,” Zelda replied, but her words suddenly sounded strange. She wrinkled her brow, and, stepping next to Link, reached out, tugging the two curtains away from each other. The day was overcast, but a grayish glow whispered into the room, gracing their boots with a shy, soft brightness.

She glanced at her husband. “How do you feel about ivory?”

~

From that moment onward, Link’s transformations of Zelda’s once dark world became all the more apparent. For the first time, she noticed the multiplication of candles around their dining table—most of them scented cheerfully with pumpkin, transported all the way from Beth’s Sundry. She counted the vases of bright-colored flowers strategically positioned around the Great Hall, like devoted soldiers standing at attention, and knew only one person who would trek so far into the forest to collect such particular, elusive species.

Her favorite of his transformations, however, was when Link commissioned the court artists to paint not a portrait of himself, as most royals would, but rather, a mural of the pastures of Ordona. The grass in the painting practically dripped with morning dew, and the circular horns of the goats glittered like fairy wings; a brilliant dawn broke through the dark woods beyond the flock, and spilling sunshine over the tranquil field.

That vision alone would have rendered the painting wonderful; but Link’s directions went further, and the artists happily delivered.

In the foreground stood a figure, facing the dawning sun—black cloak slipping from her shoulders, while the wind swept through her hair.

“Do you like it?” Link whispered in her ear, the day his surprise was revealed.

Only one thing would I change, she thought at first. Where are you in this lovely story?

Yet, when she turned towards him to ask, fierce, bright blue eyes caught hers, and she saw for a moment in him the wolf who once brought Courage to her gloom.

Enlightened, Zelda smiled.

“Of course,” she said, and cupped his face in her hands, to lose herself in his gaze just as the woman in the painting lost herself in the powerful sun.

You are the light...my light...as always.

~

#thanks for reading! #twilight princess #link #zelda #zelink #tp zelink #post canon #sparrow fics #alighting the darkness #fluff #fluff without plot #salt and light #zelink community #loftwing letters #loftwingletters24 #dubiiousfood

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"Screened" by OneWingedSparrow

Main Tags: TFP, Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, During Canon, Major Character Death (referenced), Megatron & Soundwave Summary: A tribute to Frank Welker for providing the iconic voices of Megatron and Soundwave—among many other characters across animation—over the years. Told from the perspectives of both TFP Megatron and TFP Soundwave, during and after the events of the episode "Crossfire." Part of the "Peace Through Tyranny Zine" hosted by @allsparkzines ! Please check out everyone's artwork and stories! They're amazing! Read on AO3; paired artwork here Reblogs are appreciated! ~ The bridge of the Nemesis revved with unchecked tension, like a jet engine that grumbled and screamed and refused to leave the ground despite the time for liftoff.

“The reason for our inability to locate Breakdown’s signal is all too clear...but how is it that you were unable to recover his remains?” Lord Megatron snapped.

Dreadwing avoided his gaze, fixating his attention on the floor instead.

An incoming message set the computer trilling with urgent beeps. Soundwave turned to open the notification.

“What is it?” Lord Megatron barked, just as the call connected.

A saccharine voice sent a teasing greeting echoing around the room. “Heard from Breakdown lately?”

Laserbeak twitched against Soundwave’s spark chamber. Silently, Soundwave looked to his lord.

“Trace the communication,” Megatron snarled. With practiced grace, Soundwave’s fingers flew over the keys. The onscreen cursor ricocheted around a virtual globe as frequencies were examined and swiftly eliminated, one after another.

“Megatron, truly,” Airachnid said through the speakers, as merrily as if she offered advice to an old friend, “you sent simple henchmen to terminate a high-ranking officer. I thought you reserved that honor for yourself.”

Soundwave’s fingers hovered in place.

Megatron stomped towards the dashboard, words aflame with vitriol. “Is that a challenge?”

“An invitation,” Airachnid corrected, mildly. “And, since Soundwave is, no doubt, tracing this signal, you know where to find me.”

Right then, the monitor flashed with the coordinates.

Megatron stared at the screen. Soundwave watched a thousand emotions smolder in his optics before he spoke with an air of finality.

“I’ll be back.”

“Allow me to accompany you,” Dreadwing proposed. “You already had your chance,” Megatron snapped. He stormed from the bridge.

Dreadwing hung his head, thoroughly chastised. Soundwave almost pitied the failure.

~

Cracks of lightning split the sky around Megatron as he flew—verily, the fury inside him come to life. As he glided into the cavern where Airachnid surely lurked, Megatron growled to himself. If you desire proper execution of a task, by the Antispark, you need do it yourself!

“I place too much faith in those who follow me,” he muttered. “The war has despoiled my troops of competence. I imagined my expectations lowered enough, and yet…!”

The mouth of the cave swallowed him. Megatron vanished into darkness.

~

Soundwave knew Lord Megatron was a fierce combatant, fully capable of handling his own. However, he also knew Airachnid. Airachnid was not your typical opponent. Even among Decepticons, she was diabolically cunning, darkly creative, and downright ruthless. Moreover, as an uncommon eight-legger, she wielded a fighting style that sharply disadvantaged Megatron’s. Whereas Megatron exuded might and force, Airachnid thrived in speed and guile. She was a trickster, an ambusher, and above all, a predator.

If Airachnid had the gall to consume Breakdown’s husk, Soundwave did not doubt her readiness to dismantle his lord as well. Airachnid was surely weaving trickery between her needling fingers, a net with which to snag Megatron in his anger. No matter his proven battle prowess, Lord Megatron would not be returning unscathed.

Against his spark, Laserbeak hummed in agreement.

Soundwave commanded the computer to sleep and drifted from his post.

~

When the Insecticon tackled him, Megatron had been thrown backwards.

Airachnid’s secret champion had slammed his neck at an awkward angle, setting it aching. Now, the Insecticon whinnied inches away from his face, mandibles waggling. Breathing heavily, Megatron seized all his strength, and thrust the creature far enough away to fire his fusion cannon.

Before he could shoot again, a web blast from Airachnid’s perch rendered his cannon useless. Utilizing the diversion, the Insecticon transformed into beetle mode, zipped forward, and tossed him into the air. A stab near the spark chamber left Megatron gasping. He hit the ground, showered by his own energon.

Instinct ignited as pain kicked in, accompanied by sheer adrenaline. When the Insecticon charged for another blow, Megatron timed its attack, and smacked the beast away with one fell swoop of his arm.

Airachnid hissed in displeasure. He cast a smirk towards her distant platform.

“You and your beast would do well to remember,” Megatron yelled, “I honed my skills in the Pits of Kaon!”

Furious as he was at Airachnid’s scheme, part of him thrilled in the unexpected matchup. Many of his memories of the Pits had been blocked out; but there was still much that he recalled. ~

Rather than stride the halls, Soundwave opened a ground bridge and teleported himself directly into his private quarters, while Laserbeak sequestered himself in the rafters outside to alert him to approaching vehicons.

Soundwave’s tentacles easily found the package, stacked in the corner among dozens of decoys. To the unsuspecting optic, the package appeared to be an ordinary Energon Cube. Courtesy of his visor, however, Soundwave could clearly identify the invisible symbols stamped all over the container, backlit by the artificial glow. A simple deception, engineered by Shockwave, meant for his sight alone.

He tapped the symbols in their proper order, unlocking the seal. The item inside snapped neatly into Laserbeak’s rest. The Minicon would fit right over it; no one would notice the extra mass on his frame.

At that moment, Laserbeak trilled on a frequency only Soundwave could hear. He tilted his head at the news.

So the failure does have some brass in his bearings.

~

“Rescue” was not a word Megatron regarded fondly; but, he decided he could live with an assisted tactical retreat.

“You disobeyed my orders in following me here,” Megatron growled.

He waited just long enough for worry to overtake Dreadwing; then, Megatron transformed his tone, almost sounding…jovial.

“You will make a fine first lieutenant,” he said through a wide, concealed grin.

~

Lord Megatron returned limping.

The average Decepticon would never have detected this; yet, Soundwave had spent enough time with him to identify when something was off. A miniscule change in his gait was all the proof Soundwave needed.

Megatron straightened his back as a group of Eradicons passed by, saluting him. As soon as they left, he grumbled and pulled a strand of web from his fusion cannon.

Knock Out welcomed Lord Megatron into the med bay. A few wayward drops of energon trailed behind him, at Soundwave’s feet.

A single tentacle unfurled, claws sweeping over the floor to wipe the energon away—out of sight.

At Knock Out’s beckoning, Lord Megatron sank onto the examination berth. Soundwave noticed how his knees quavered under him, but chose not to say anything.

~

Knock Out’s examination was prompt, as Megatron demanded. No Decepticon should ever know all his wounds or weaknesses...even his medic.

Once Knock Out was dismissed, Megatron narrowed his optics at Soundwave. “Did you send Dreadwing after me?”

“It was his own stupid idea!” Knock Out’s voice protested from Soundwave’s speakers. A favorite recording, from yet another occasion of Starscream’s troublemaking.

Megatron laughed, hoarsely. “So there is hope for Decepticon competency, yet.”

Yes, Soundwave thought, at last we have found someone faithful to your cause.

Towards his lord, he nodded, signaling Laserbeak to deploy.

Into Megatron’s open palm, a tentacle placed the item that Soundwave had guarded since their time in the Pits.

His lord’s knee brace. ~

#thanks for reading! #sparrow fics #screened #salt and light #megatron #soundwave #tfp megatron #tfp soundwave #during canon #canon compliant #transformers prime #tfp #transformers fanfic #maccadam

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The Pits: superable. Survival guaranteed with your presence. Thank you, Frank Welker, for bringing so many beloved characters to life through your voice, as well as through the energy and passion you bring to every role. No matter the timbre, no matter the tone, you always nailed it. From Dr. Claw to the Cave of Wonders to Fred to Garfield to (of course) Megatron and Soundwave to so many more, your performances never cease to amaze me. This is my artwork for the "Peace Through Tyranny Zine," hosted by @allsparkzines ! Thank you, mods, for putting this together! It was wonderful to be a part of it.💜

#tfp #soundwave #tfp soundwave #laserbeak #tfp laserbeak #maccadam #transformers fanart #peace through tyranny zine #frank welker #salt and light #traditional art #transformers prime #sparrow art #fanart

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"Optimus Prime & His Feisty Little Two-Wheeler" by OneWingedSparrow

🏍️ First Draft: 2021 ⤵️

🚛🏍️ Main Tags: TFP, Arcee & Optimus Prime, Pre-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Mild Hurt / Comfort, Found Family Summary: A tribute to Peter Cullen for striving to always keep Optimus Prime "strong enough to be gentle," told from the perspective of TFP Arcee towards her newfound leader, when she first comes to Earth and joins Team Prime. Made for the "To Be Gentle Zine," hosted by @allsparkzines ! Please check out everyone else's stories and artwork; they're all lovely! :D Read on AO3; paired artwork here Reblogs are appreciated! ~ Arcee refused to affiliate her name with anything. The Autobot faction was her lone exception. Her former leaders left her...and, after she lost Tailgate, the only teammate who respected her for who she was...she didn’t wish to be associated with any singular bot.

Her spark was broken, and no medic fixed sparks.

But over the years...Arcee realized there was one person she could stand to fight beside. One person she could fight for. One person she could depend on, and willingly link her name to.

His name was Optimus Prime.

~

The first time his name is affixed to hers, she is jolted with shock.

“It’s the Prime’s scouts! All units, fire!” The Prime’s—the Prime’s…? Arcee trips over her own feet.

Magnus had been the one she followed. Before that, Prowl. She is a stranger to this Prime.

Sure, the moment she forsook the wastelands of Cybertron, racing Cliffjumper through Shockwave’s space bridge, she rolled straight into the ranks of Optimus Prime, who sought refuge on this rugged rock called Earth.

...but is she already counted as one of his?

Their cover exposed, Bumblebee bounds towards a farther bunker, retreating from the Decepticons’ barrage, as Optimus directed.

As Optimus directed, as Optimus ordered, as Optimus would….

Hand flipping into a gun, Arcee shakes her head and follows.

Everything she does now will be in his name.

~

The first time he delivers a speech in her earshot, she cramps her neck looking up.

Arcee knew Optimus Prime was tall, but she never stood on level ground with him. Only now does she realize how truly massive he is; the tip of the pink tiara spike atop her helmet doesn’t even reach his hip.

This mission is futile. They’ll never see optic to optic.

No one ever does, with a two-wheeler like her.

So, she gives up, dropping her gaze to the Autobot insignia emblazoned on their new base’s floor.

The same symbol embossed onto her wings. The same symbol that gleams on the grill of the Earth truck form Optimus has chosen. A Western Star, she heard the human soldiers call it. Lumbering engine, muted paint job, lackluster tires...it’s surely a far cry from his regal Cybertronian form, but he steps into the disguise humbly.

Her thoughts are wandering. She’s lost track of the speech. She forces herself to focus on her surroundings. Bumblebee, Cliffjumper, Bulkhead and Ratchet stand beside her, listening intently as Optimus continues. I’m part of the circle, she thinks, suddenly. This is new.

Will it last? She doesn’t know.

Only time will tell.

As always.

~

The first time he rolls with her, she feels her systems stall.

“Arcee,” he says. Her name lolls in the air.

She straightens her frame, flashing an urgent salute. “Sir!” “At ease, soldier.” He gets down on one knee.

This only stiffens her further; Ultra Magnus never adopted such a lax posture.

What’s more, Arcee decides, looking directly into Optimus Prime’s face is mildly frightening. Here is a Warrior who has plowed through fire and acid, shrapnel and rust, energon and terror—and captured the weight of all to carry forever. In those piercing, blazing optics, she can see the glory and the pain, the fervor and the fury, of a leader blessed by Primus….

And she knows, while she beholds, that he will brake for nothing in bringing this war to its end.

Arcee trembles under his gaze.

“I am coming with you,” he says.

Statement. Declaration. Fact.

In shame, her spark plummets to her feet. The Prime must have higher priorities than her safety. No one ever makes the effort to care. Why would he waste his time on a two-wheeler most bots look down upon?

Are you sure I’m worth it? Arcee blurts out, unheard.

Aloud, she stammers the scrap substitute:

“Sir?”

“You are in need of backup, and there is no one else to accompany you at this time. Therefore, be mindful of my presence.” Arcee wants to protest.

However, one glance at his decisive expression deactivates all argument.

You just can’t argue with Optimus Prime.

~

The first time he saves her spark, she flinches, and not from her wounds.

Bulkhead fell back. Bumblebee paused to reload.

A quick scan of the battlefield revealed only a “few” Decepticons. Her arm blades clicked from their casings. The enemy seemed distracted.

She thought she could take them all on.

Arcee speeds into the open. An ever dutiful partner, Cliffjumper attempts to provide cover fire. Dust billows in her path.

She flies, wings spread wide with the thrill of the hunt. Leap and dodge, flip and kick. Swipe and cut, scratch and slice. The Decepticons falter, unprepared for the frontal assault.

Until they get smart to her timing, and they stab her through the gut.

Her frame screams with pain. Something else roars louder.

Optimus. Her enemies freeze.

He charges, blasters smoking. Optics blazing.

They’re dead in seconds. Arcee’s lifted up, leaking energon.

Wordlessly, Optimus carries her home.

~

The first time he rebukes her, she wishes she could hide in vehicle mode.

Not hide as in “cower.” More like hide as in “transform, to then zoom away.” The best kind of hiding: speeding so no one can catch you. She’s already transformed. Engine’s running. Kickstand’s up. She’s already halfway gone.

But her wheels don’t roll.

Deep down, she knows barricading in vehicle mode while he has words to deliver would be incredibly rude, and she’s not sure she wants to disrespect him so, after he saved her tailpipe. With that, she mentally punches herself in the T-Cog, and stands up to face him.

“Arcee,” he says, so far above her, voice stern and edged. “Your judgment today was far from exemplary.”

She swallows.

“Make no further attempts to engage the enemy alone.”

“Yes, sir,” she whispers.

Those optics meet hers, once again.

“We will fight on,” Optimus says quietly. “That is a promise…

“Stay with me.”

Arcee blinks something from her vision.

If he notices, he says nothing.

~

Now, whenever he summons her, she’s alert and prepared.

“Arcee, with me.”

She nods, and falls into step beside him.

Though one step for him is many for her, they march in the same time.

His massive, towering form no longer feels as looming or daunting as it did. She’s learned to rest in his shadow, to trust he will shield her. She’s not sure why she grew so comfortable with his presence so fast, but perhaps his mannerisms influenced this transformation.

He stands tall to intimidate, but not to belittle. He bends down to her level more than anyone else. In battle, he never abandons her. He even looks back for her, when his extensive strides travel farther than her shorter limbs can reach. And when he sends her ahead to scout, hidden well in lofty places, she always finds him watching for her when she returns with a report.

Quiet things. Subtle things.

Little things a great, big Prime needn’t trouble himself with.

But he wants to.

He cares.

So, when he says “With me,” she follows...

Because the little things have shown her that he is someone worth following.

~

#thanks for reading <3 #optimus prime & his feisty little two-wheeler #sparrow fics #maccadam #tfp #arcee #optimus prime #transformers fanfic #fanfic #transformers prime #transformers: prime #pre canon #found family #salt and light

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Because of you, we have a future. Thank you, Peter Cullen, for your continual, unwavering efforts to imbue the words "strong enough to be gentle" into the spark of Optimus Prime <3 This is my artwork for the "To Be Gentle Zine," hosted by @allsparkzines ! I was so thrilled to be able to contribute! ❤️‍🔥Tremendous thank you to the mods who set this up. This was an honor. Tumblr wrecked the quality a bit, as it does, but you can see the optimal ;) version in the zine, which will be releasing digitally soon!

#optimus prime #peter cullen #maccadam #bumblebee #arcee #sparrow art #tfp #bayformers #bumblebee movie #to be gentle zine #salt and light #traditional art #fanart #transformers fanart #i still can't believe i got to draw this for him. it's so crazy. but it's real

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"Lucky Indeed" by OneWingedSparrow

Main Tags: Drabble, Angst, Vex & Vax, Major Character Death, Near Future Summary: A drabble set sometime long past the Raven-Queen-incident. Grief and gratitude, along with anger and acceptance, are inseparable twins whom Vex'ahlia is learning to come to terms with. Read on AO3 Reblogs are appreciated! ~

I always wanted a twin, says the little boy. He’s watching the foals scamper in the paddock, their dark, stubby manes whisked about. Partners, forever. What’s more lucky than that? Something inside Vex’ahlia twists. A dagger, or three, perhaps. One to each lung, and another to her still beating heart. What a foolish wish, she would say, if she had the brashness of her—their—youth. It’s fun, while it lasts. Then they leave. And it hurts. The nearer you are, the farther the distance. Instead, she fingers the black feathers behind her ear, and nods. Nothing. That’s lucky, indeed. ~

#thanks for reading! #vox machina #critical role fanfic #critical role #vex'ahlia vessar #vax'ildan vessar #vex and vax #angst #feels #drabble #lucky indeed #vex'ahlia #vax'ildan #fanfic #sparrow fics

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"Don't You Worry" by OneWingedSparrow

Main Tags: Twilight Princess, Post-Canon, Zelink, Link & Epona, Fluff, POV Epona, Trust Issues, Retrospective

Summary: Epona notes Zelda's nervousness around Link, and thinks it is undeserved. Read on AO3 Reblogs are appreciated! Hey listen, have a TP Zelda song rec since you're here :) ~

Epona knew her master’s hands. Link’s pull on the reins was never harsh, never hasty. She could not say the same for Fado; that man meant well, but, while occupied with counting the goats they were herding, he always clutched the reins too tightly, putting too much pressure on the bit. Nor would she say the same for the children she loved; whether nervous about being up too high on her back, or simply so confident to be up so high, they would cling to her mane with fervor. Talo especially held a habit of jerking.

When the Bulbins had taken her, they roughhoused her more than even Talo could have. She did not appreciate the rough talons that cut into her skin while they wrestled a coarsely woven bridle over her head and clamped their harshest bit, perhaps better fit for a boar, over her tongue. She did not like the feel of their hands on her reins, as they yanked her hither and yon with no care for her own sense of direction. To them, she was only a vehicle that carried them from one point to the next. She had been glad to break free of their stiff, demanding control.

When her master found her again, his touch was as welcome as a summer breeze from Farore. Gentle, and soothing, and steady, and sure. He guided her, but did not force her; he let her go her own way, but tugged her away from distractions as necessary, ensuring they arrived at their required destination.

Epona knew her master’s hands. She had spent countless years of her life helping Link plow the fields, tote the crops, haul the firewood. She knew the firm kindness by which he brushed her coat, the quiet strength by which he mucked the barn, the fond tenderness by which he patted the goats. Even when the herd got ornery, and he had to wrestle a wayward, bleating fugitive back to the ranch, Link’s might never lost its meekness. Epona knew her master’s hands, and she knew they were trustworthy.

Why was it, then, that the princess of Hyrule seemed nervous of the hand offered unto her?

Glancing back over her withers, Epona shook her mane and waited. For how long the princess had hesitated to receive the gift, it was as if Link had offered a writhing snake instead of a shimmering tiger lily.

The forest whispered a patient breeze to pass the time, while the ever traipsing brook muffled any conversation between the two. Epona swished her tail in warning as a fly droned by. Thankfully, it did not land.

Movement at last caught Epona’s eye. The princess finally accepted the gift, though she received it not in her hands, but in her hair, as the giver—her Hero—carefully reached upwards and tucked the flower behind her ear. No, Epona thought, the princess’ hands were meant to receive something greater than that lovely gift. After all, Link was reaching out once again, and this time, there was no hesitation; the princess let her hand rest in his.

Epona’s ears flicked forward. While she watched in excitement, the two began to wander, their footsteps drifting towards the water that danced with dappled sunlight.

Yes, anyone skittish could discover the truth, even the very princess of Hyrule.

Her master’s gentle hands could always be trusted. ~

#thanks for reading! #epona #link #zelda #twilight princess #tp zelink #zelink #zelda fanfic #tloz fanfic #post canon #fluff #sparrow fics #don't you worry #oneshot #loz fanfic #loz #tloz tp

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"Give it here, Epona...." For Linktober Day 21: Link! (Also known as Lincoln Shepherd, from the small town of Ordon, Iowa.) This art was made for @flutefemme for her Twilight Princess 1920's AU, "The Long and Winding Road," coming soon! At the time this art takes place, Link doesn't have a lot to smile about...but, though he doesn't yet know it, he's set to find healing on the road ahead. Flute is a talented writer and artist, and ever since I found her work, her traditional art has always inspired me to keep up my own! It was an honor to make this for you, Flute, and I hope you like it! ✨ Ever since you mentioned Lincoln could possibly have a scarf, I knew exactly what I wanted to draw 😂

#linktober #linktober 2023 #link #twilight princess #epona #western au #cowboy link #flutefemme #tloz #legend of zelda #the legend of zelda #tloz fanart #zelda fanart #sparrow art

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"Over the Edge" by OneWingedSparrow; Prologue: Is There Anyone? Oh, it Has Begun....

Next Chapter (coming soon) >> @inklings-challenge This was written for the Inklings Challenge 2023! This is but the prologue; more is to come. (I hope it was okay to tag all the themes in my story, though this prologue only touches on a few.) Main Tags: Telteas (OC) & Léloh (OC), Original Work, Original Characters, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fairytale Style, Dark Fairytale Elements, Secondary World Fantasy DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT: Angst, Blood, Broken Bones, Loss of Limbs (in a sense), Pain, Hurt...there's a lot of hurt. Summary: This is the tale of an illustrious creature residing in a high tower—and the secret of the broken, bloodied bones scattered about the dungeon floor. Read on AO3 Reblogs are appreciated! ~ Most people in Thereal had two wings; Prince Telteas had eight, until the day befell that he should have seven, and he dropped to the courtyard writhing and wailing amidst a pool of feathers and blood. Alarmed, his brother called the guards, who alerted the king and queen, who summoned the physicians, who ran their instruments over temple and neck, over shoulder and alula, over coverts and tertials, and still could find no damning evidence that would explain the sudden snap of the bone from his back.

“What happened?” fretted his mother, tearing at her own down.

“It is true I threw a snowball,” confessed his brother, biting his nails, “but the snow was soft, and scattered before it even hit his back. I do not understand how it could have damaged the wing.”

“Indeed,” griped his father, wings pinned together, “why was it so fragile, that it loosed like a leaf?"

Upon his bed, seven lonesome wings outspread wearily around him, the prince avoided all their worried eyes, and set his face instead towards the great bay window. The snowfall outside was slow but steady, each flake growing in diameter by the second. “I do not know,” said the prince, with a distant frown. “I scarcely felt the cold from the snowball. I remember, I was only singing. And then…I felt the pain.”

His mother shook her head, and his brother nodded; and his father sighed, and drew the drapes so that the room fell dark. “Let us pray it does not happen again.”

Such a request was in vain, for again did Prince Telteas lose a wing. This time, the dreaded event occurred in the ballroom, before a crowd of screaming guests and beside the startled musicians whose fingers froze to their instruments. From the platform Telteas toppled, choking on a chorus forever unfinished.

On prickling hands and aching knees, the prince quavered alone. The red and black carpet swirled before his vision like a devilish whirlpool, craving to suck him into oblivion. He bit his lip, and drew blood. Again came the fright. Again struck the pain. A stab bit his shoulder. A lurch gripped his side. A scream without sound, deafeningly silent, lapped against the vomit refusing to escape his throat. In this endless insanity, even while kind souls came rushing to aid, Telteas’ ears were open only to the echoing voices of bitterest disdain. “What is wrong with him?” “We always knew there was something wrong with him. No one was meant to have eight wings.” “It’s unnatural. Uncanny." “He was always odd, wasn’t he?” “The only one with such a quirk.” “Perhaps now he’ll fit in with the rest of us." He staggered then, and fell on his face, unawares.

Beside his prone form collapsed a great, white wing, barbs now bright red and askew—and the noise that it made when it hit the floor sounded not unalike to a heart’s frightened beat.

When Telteas awakened, his fate was sealed—though the wax had yet to harden from the weight of the signet. Once was unlucky, but twice was unforgivable. His family feared that he had fallen ill, and knew not what to do. Seeking the best for the kingdom, and thereby assuming the worst of his dire condition, in the end, they judged that he should recover in a secluded location, removed from the populace, until the oddities ceased and he should feel well again. After all, they knew not whether his wing dropping was contagious.

Thus, so it was that Telteas found himself watching the snowfall from a far different window, the height of which would have dwarfed the stately wintergreens, had any been left standing near enough to stretch longing branches towards his outstretched fingers. The ancient tower of Queen Ellay, rooftop dark and slanted to melt and drop any wayward drifts, speared the ground like a stern scepter thrusting its will over the quiet valley. Long ago, the tower had been a private sanctuary; now, Telteas wondered if the bygone queen would approve of his criminal trespass of her peaceful estate.

He was not alone in this place; a plucky entourage of servants, physicians, guards and others willingly subjected themselves to his temporary banishment, braving the possibility that they too might catch his unknown illness. Though the somberest part of him wished himself to be abandoned in true solitude, forgotten to the ages, the prince searched the debris of his crumbling heart and saw that he indeed was grateful for their company. In the good times, when laughter twirled around the spiraling stairwells and traipsed under the kitchen chairs, when steaming mugs of tea and cider were passed around in good cheer, when stories were dealt like cards round the fire and banter was traded for sly smirks and rolling eyes, Telteas could even muster the faintest of smiles, and pretend that everything was only as it seemed.

Yet, in the bad times, when his screams rent the air with a terrible force—when the servants leapt into flight and scrambled for rags and dustpans to mop the lost blood and sweep the stray feathers, and the physicians clapped their wings and clicked their tongues and scratched their notebooks till the pencil lead snapped for lack of answers, and the guards tensed their pinions and stood at attention for want of clearer orders and by their very presence made the locked, barred, bolted doors of the tower seem all the more impregnable, all the more eternal—

Then, in his heart torn asunder, the fantasy shattered, and Telteas wept all the harder for sight of the truth.

Despite all around him, he was alone. ~ Next Chapter >> (Coming Soon)

#thank you for reading! #team tolkien #genre: secondary world #theme: shelter #theme: clothing #theme: visiting the sick #theme: visiting the imprisoned #story: incomplete #inklings challenge #inklingschallenge #original character #salt and light #over the edge #blood #angst #multichapter fic #original work

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"Tailgated" by OneWingedSparrow

Fic Summary: A mid-TFP exploration of Arcee's thoughts towards Tailgate, who died long ago, and her current status. Though the light of a spark may have long been extinguished, the embers of memory never truly turn cold.

Main Tags: Arcee & Tailgate, Arcee & Optimus Prime, Major Character Death, Grief, Loss, Rhyming Poetry Read on AO3 Reblogs are appreciated! ~

Tailgated

Headlights on my six, so much higher than the road; With might to stun the stars, they beam far beyond my own Long as I'm in this lane, I know that I cannot escape you... No way I can evade the grill that's filling up my rearview Those humans have a word that's strangely like your name I froze first time I heard; it hurts, you know…

Tailgate:

It means to tag along, you see, and far too near for comfort— A ghost drifting the track with ease, no hurt, no fear, an expert Shaving off the seconds, tearing up the competition Braving all the wreckage of a fateful Premonition... I lose my breath, afraid...to rush would be to fail; I cannot let your presence push me over the guardrail... To speed will be unwise; no sense in feeding stressing pressure To brake is a mistake; an aching, high-stakes fender bender To slow would be ideal… But I am so weary of dealing... Oh, how healing is disguised as a pain most unappealing. All I can do is what He said: Keep my optics on the road, And let the highway guide me till the moonlight leads me home. I know I'll see you soon...and catch the ghost that passed me by... For now, my lap’s still on; I’m still far from that finish line. He told me something once that transformed the way I drive... The longer we remain alert, The longer we Remain alive.

~

#thanks for reading <3 #sparrow poetry #transformers #maccadam #arcee #tfp arcee #tailgate #poetry #fandom poetry #transformers prime #tailgated #grief #major character death #optimus prime #is this connected to my other arcee & optimus fics? yes ;)

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I scribbled this one night in circa two minutes without any context or references and I am so very proud of him

YOU, TRANSFORMERS ARTIST, SHOW ME HOW YOU DRAW SHOCKWAVE

#this isn't how i would normally draw him but he would say he deserves to be posted to my art blog. and he would be correct #shockwave #sparrow art #maccadam #transformers fanart #ILLOGICAL #chibi #...sort of? lol #sketches

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Thank Primus. She's finally in recharge. If you rouse her...by the Allspark, the lieutenant will be very displeased. I recommend stepping lightly. ~ First reveal of a Transformers OC I've been dreaming up for a couple years now! ✨ Who is this little sparkling, you ask? And what is she doing on Earth in the midst of the Decepticon rampage following the crash of the Alchemor? Both you and Bumblebee can find out in a future fic of mine! I hope to start publishing it before the year's end. Stay tuned ;) ~

I hope the days come easy and the moments pass slow, and each road leads you where you wanna go

And if you're faced with a choice and you have to choose, I hope you choose the one that means the most to you

And if one door opens to another door closed, I hope you keep on walkin' till you find the window

If it's cold outside, show the world the warmth of your smile…. -"My Wish" by Rascal Flatts Reblogs are okay! But DO NOT REPOST

#transformers oc #robots in disguise #rid15 #bumblebee #prime in disguise bumblebee #transformers fanfic #maccadam #fanart #traditional art #rid 'bee my beloved #sparrow art #tf rid2015 #tf rid15 #robots in disguise 2015 #i'll tag the sparkling later when her name is revealed ;) #first time drawing her...phew...me realizing i know exactly what her alt mode is in high detail but not her bot mode lol #her design might change in the future but...i kinda like what i started with here :) #this art was brought you by: fifteen different open tabs of rid bumblebee and a handful of other tabs of references #why is it so hard to draw transformers pauldrons 😂

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I don't know who needs to hear this, but as a creator -

I am fine with "the audience" -

downloading my fics

printing my fics

copy/pasting or screenshotting my fics

sharing your saved copy of my fics with anyone else who might want them in the unlikely but never impossible case that my fics are no longer available on ao3

making a book of my fic(s) and running your fingers across the pages while lovingly whispering my precioussss

doing these things with anything I create for fandom, such as meta, headcanons, au nonsense like 'texts from the brodinsons,' etc

I am not fine with "the audience"

doing any of the above with the purpose/intent of plagiarizing my work or passing it off as their own in any capacity

feeding my work into ai for any reason whatsoever

Save the fandom things. Preserve the fandom things. Respect the fandom things.

Enjoy the fandom things.

#important