#mango does ocs

[fr00tb0wl]

Eleonara, the Mud Witch of Elgin

Lore under the cut vvv

*This universe uses a mixture of book, show and game canon!*

A graduate of Aretuza, Eleonara focused on her abilities as a healer, an herbalist and a skilled Geomancer. And after a failed stint in politics, the sorceress cut herself off from trivial court life and focused her attention on wandering the Continent, offering her services to small villages. Anything from healing, protection, and, perhaps most infamously: Stealing away women, children and the unfortunate in the night, guiding those in need to sanctuary.

Born to a Brickmaker and a local healer, Eleonara hailed from the tiny village of Elgin. Her home consisted of others also working with mud and clay, potters and sculptors, brickmakers and builders, and was hidden in the swamps of Temeria surrounding Lake Vizima.

El was a middle child with two older siblings and two younger, it was a poor family but a loving one. And the girl often spent time barefoot in the mud, tossing rocks further across the lake than her siblings and often excelling in Hide and Seek. In fact, it was actually quite easy for the child to make herself disappear. Whenever her siblings became cross with her, she’d vanish into the mist. Foot races led to opponents getting their feet stuck in mud turned hard like cement, and even bumps and scrapes on a little brother’s knee could be healed with a loving kiss at the cost of a nosebleed or a need for a long nap. Little did she know, this was the result of hidden powers coming to blossom from within.

Unfortunately, tragedy struck when bandits raided the village due to a rumor that gold had been found while mining the clay. Eleonara’s father was crippled from a devastating injury and, tragically, Eleonara’s mother and siblings were lost in the ensuing struggle. From a family of seven to a family of two, the wounds and eventual scarring ran deep. Eleonara’s father was never the same and carried around an everlasting sadness that his one remaining daughter could not heal. Not with all of the love and herbs in the world. The rift between them grew as time passed, only for their connection to be completely severed with the arrival of a teacher from Aretuza.

While Eleonara doesn’t blame her father for doing so, the man was far too uneducated to realize what was happening, the sorceress from Aretuza had been pointed in their direction after a complaint was filed regarding Eleonara’s magical stunts. The man, convinced that he was doing the right thing and that his daughter would be in safer hands, allowed her to be sold and taken to Aretuza. This would be the last time they would see each other.

Given that Eleonara was from a poorer family, she, like many of the other girls from poorer families, had to work twice as hard from within their prison at Aretuza. Providing sometimes dangerous and often grueling manual labor to support the school and its functions. All while not being allowed to leave nor while having any contact with the outside world.

The girl was *not* fond of Aretuza, growing to despise their teaching tactics and means of pitting girls one against the other as a means of achieving power and greatness. But regardless, she applied herself to her studies. She faced some ridicule for showing an interest in Geomancy, a stubborn branch of an especially stubborn and draining element. This ended up being something she ended up studying extensively and excelling in alongside healing and herbal tinctures. She graduated with average marks and was released into the court of an up and on the rise Baron. A Baron who, with his party of fellow men, had gathered and unified large swathes of villages and land together. It seemed a promising start, and with the right hand it could blossom into something more.

It would be Eleonara’s first, and last, dive into politics.

Eleonara was met with hostility, suspicion and dislike from the people. The Baron and his supporters treated her like a lap decoration more than a guide or advisor, and much of El’s advice and attempts to help were met with stubborn and narrow minded means of thinking. It soon became clear to her that these men were simply interested in power and conquest. Disheartened, Eleonara befriended the Baron’s wife, a village chieftain’s daughter taken and forced into a marriage she hadn’t asked for. They bonded over their shared hatred of the self appointed Baron and his men. And when fighting broke out between the men, Eleonara took it upon herself to take the Baron’s wife and her children and guide them back to her home village, there they could escape the country with an old lover.

Eleonara, feeling a sense of duty to Aretuza, remained. Even as the Baron was slaughtered and the power vacuum began, the sorceress staid with each leader until angry and abused subjects burned down the fortress. El simply let her image die with them, and left the ashes behind along with a vow to never work for higher powers again. In helping her friend escape, Eleonara had found her calling: She’d always been good at hiding things. Now she could help others do the same thing.

So she walks the continent, spending long periods of time out in the wilderness and among the earth. She hones her Geomancy and Geokinesis and seeks out the few masters of the element of Earth. However, she often peddles herbs and healing services to small villages and towns. And, occasionally, finding an orphaned child, a battered girl or an outcast, befriending them, and coming for them in the night to take them to a different place to begin anew. Daughters ripped from their families returned, children brought to sanctuary or loving arms of new parents, men left for dead sent to places of healing. It is how Eleonara heals her heart and makes her difference in the world she knows.

However, this has not been without incident. Those who recognize her mud stained clothes call her ‘The Mud Witch’. Handfuls of scorned husbands or hired thugs or witch hunters have been sent after her often. Most of which usually end up encased in thick and hardened clay. Many are under the impression that she whisks people away to be killed and used as sacrifices. And eerie clay figures often find their way into the homes of those who are ‘chosen’. Circles of clay figures can often be found in the woods, acting as a barrier to hide huts filled with supplies and provide temporary shelter for those who wish to journey to their new destination alone. Eleonara herself is a mysterious figure, one who doesn’t speak of herself often but remains level headed and calm in almost all situations. She defends her charges ferociously from monsters and men alike, and is not beneath trying to stand up to a Witcher or two in order to accomplish her tasks.

It is unknown how long she intends to keep doing this for. Perhaps it’s how she feels she can make the most use of her abilities. Or perhaps she’s simply looking for somewhere to belong herself. Regardless, befriending the Mud Witch of Elgin brings with it a deep bond and unwavering loyalty. One that is sure to last lifetimes.

[bunny--farm]

Finished my half of our Mermay-ish trade with @f0xofspades! yippee!!

She wrote A Mermaid Tale as her side and I just need to shout about it because it's 2am and i cannot be running laps around my room otherwise.

[softmangoes]

mango! hello there ^ ^ firstly, you. are. an. incredible. writer!! secondly, i came across a song recently that immediately reminded me of sun and joseph's relationship :D the song is Peaceful Easy Feeling by the Eagles! believe it or not, you'll find old albums that shockingly vibe with joseph down to a tee- but thats a whole other rabbit hole ill save for another day! this song is so SO very sun and joseph coded and im moments away from exploding the sooner this very piece of information doesn't get across to you. sending all my love <33

hi humdrum!! 🧡 i have been beaming about this message for days, so thank you for reaching out! i would love to hear about any rabbit holes you may have. we can always explore together! i love listening to music to help me write and this song is absolutely perfect when it comes to describing sun and joseph's relationship so i've decided to make it canon because they refuse to calm down and leave me in peace to write my emails this side story (expansion?) takes place right after chapter two of never let me go.

you make it easy

September 1982

For the first time in years, Joseph slept in. Usually, he would wake up right before the crack of dawn, memories of darker days prickling at his psyche. These were the moments he’d roll out of bed, skin slick with fear and adrenaline rushing white-hot through his body, before he would slip on a tank top and running shorts and head out of the door. 

This habit had started a little over a month after he had moved into El Paraiso, when he woke up to Sun shaking him. 

“You’re awake,” she exhaled, her breath heavy and her eyes wide. “For a second there, I thought you were just going to keep screaming.” 

It took him a moment to realize that he was gripping her arms and another to register that she was practically on top of him, her hands pressed against his shoulders. In the dim moonlight, he could see the dampness on her forehead and how disheveled her hair was. Joseph swallowed, taking note of how raw his throat felt. 

“I’m…sorry,” he started, blinking the world back into focus. In this moment, there was no blood on his hands, bruises on his cheek, or mud beneath his feet. There was no river to drown in or streets to run across. There was only the desert night and Sun’s shaky fingers. Joseph released his grip on her, worried that he had somehow hurt her. “Are you alright?” “Me?” Sun scoffed. “You’re the one who was fighting demons. Are you alright?”

“Nightmare,” he said, his sandpaper tongue licking chapped lips. “A pretty bad one.” She inhaled, the tension in her body loosening before she braced herself against his shoulders and looked straight into his eyes. Whatever words he had been about to say fell quiet amidst the intensity of her gaze. 

“You’re safe, okay?” She said, resolute. There was a sense of understanding in her eyes. Joseph’s face went flush. Even then, he was still trying to get used to her directness, to the way she said things he never knew he needed to hear. “I won’t let anything hurt you.” 

Despite her gentle demeanor, there were times in which Sun burned so hot that she threatened to melt the walls he had spent years building.  All Joseph could do was nod, silently thankful that she wasn’t the type to pry. He had his own fair share of ghosts and it wouldn't be fair for him to bring up specters from the past to the only person who didn’t look at him with fear. 

He shifted himself, conscious of the position they were in. In any other moment, his skin would have flared at how close they were, their bodies separated by a mere few layers of cloth.

Instead, he winced. “Sun,” he said, taking a pained breath. “Your knee’s on my rib.”

After that incident, Joseph would start his day by lacing up his shoes to go for a run. He warmed up by jogging a couple circuits around the parking lot, pounding the asphalt  just until the sky began to lighten and the fear and adrenaline that plagued him from past haunts turned into sweat and warm muscle. By the time he launched into a full sprint down the empty sidewalks, calves searing and lungs aching, he only ever had one thought on his mind: the press of Sun’s body against his, pinning him to their bed.  I won’t let anything hurt you.

Every morning, Joseph ran down the desert streets until he could do nothing else but burn. Whatever apprehension he felt at the beginning of the exercise would sear away within moments, leaving him with a desire he could never hope to fulfill.  He’d never admit that he would imagine pulling her closer to have those words whispered into his ear, to feel the heat of her breath on his neck, to become enveloped in a promise no one had ever sworn to him until that moment. 

Once he reached his final lap, he would lean against the facade of the neighborhood bar, chest heaving as the new day smoldered across the sky. He would watch the sun alight on the horizon, knowing that it wouldn’t be long until the one that had dawned in his life would rise soon enough. 

Joseph wiped at his forehead with a bandana before slicking back his hair into a small ponytail. This was the longest time he’d spent in any one area. If it wasn’t for the contract he had with the studio, he would have packed up and left El Paso months ago. He knew that signing on with them had its risks, but the stable income allowed him the freedom to make other decisions. Still, money and career aside, he found that had no urge to hop onto a bus, get a motel, or do anything that would leave him far from the one person he wanted to be around. 

I won’t let anything hurt you, she had said. But could he say the same? 

The last thing he wanted to do was risk her safety for his own selfishness. There were people after him, he was sure of it. People that his father owed money to. People who wanted answers. Even after all these years, Joseph had a feeling they weren’t the type to forget what they were owed.

He leaned his head against the concrete facade, sighing. Despite his fears, this was the first time in his life that he had felt anything close to peace. If he wanted to stay with her, then they had to stay friends. There was no use in making her complicit. At the end of the day the soreness in his legs, the sweat slicking his skin, and the burning in his lungs were one of the few things that could distract him from the ache of wanting something he couldn’t have. 

So he’d walk his way back to the apartment, his skin warm from the heat of the rising sun. But this morning was different. The day after they dropped off the cardboard box with the scrawled-out name at the thrift shop and picked up new items for the apartment, Joseph dreamed of flowers. 

Above him, white blossoms drifted in the wind like falling stars. The crab apples were in bloom and there was only one place where they flourish with this much abundance—the old lake just a few blocks from his high school. He had many memories of floating on its surface, the cool water soothing the mementos from his father’s fists. 

From where he was lying, Joseph could see the sunlight filtering through the branches above him in an ever shifting mosaic of dappled light and watched as the tiny green leaves shuddered in the soft breeze. Growing up, this was the only place that had given him any sense of ease. 

Fingers trailed through his locks, tickling his scalp. It took him a moment to notice that his head was resting on someone’s lap.

“Hey,” Sun said, smiling. There was a sparkle in her eyes.  “So this is where you grew up? It’s pretty.” 

“It’s nothing much,” he said, noticing that all of this wasn’t real despite how much he wanted it to be. There was a flower that had been caught in her hair. Even here, he resisted the urge to reach for it. “This was the only good thing about it.”

And so much had changed since he last saw the crab apples bloom. He had changed. “Besides,” Joseph continued as the first few droplets began to fall. Once the rain reached the flowers, the tender petals became translucent and skeletal—ghosts sodden by the past, being pressed into the blades of grass around them. Joseph could feel each droplet fall onto his skin, but noticed that Sun was untouched. 

There wasn’t much time. He lifted himself up to face her and to place a hand on her cheek. A smile curled the edges of her mouth, the corners of her eyes crinkling softly. Even in this dream, she felt so real, but someone like her didn’t belong in the memories that he had worked so hard to leave behind.  “I’ve found a place to stay,” he said right before the nightmare could take hold of him. 

Once he opened his eyes, Joseph found herself saying her name. His hand smoothed across the empty bed, the sheets cool at his touch. The room glowed with the full brightness of the morning and he shot up, wondering how long he had been asleep for. 

“Sun,” he called out, wiping away a spot of drool with the back of his hand. “Sun?” 

The bedroom was different. Tucked away in the corner by the closet was the walnut drawer they had bought from the thrift shop the day before. His duffel bag sat on top of it, still unpacked. 

A large photo frame hung on the wall above it filled with an assembly of postcards from different parts of the world. Each one was addressed to Sun, signed by her father. Joseph slipped out of bed, making his way to the hallway. The apartment was eerily quiet and far brighter than usual. Every window in the living room had been opened, shining the morning light on the newly arranged apartment. Near the windows, he noticed that Sun’s record player was out of its package, with each vinyl placed carefully onto a display rack beside it. 

The desk lamp from the thrift store sat on the edge of the dining table, complemented by a cup full of blue pens. Sun had told him the lamp was so he didn’t have to strain his eyes while reviewing his scripts every night.  With this new setup, Joseph imagined going over his lines while chatting with Sun across from him. 

A few Texas postcards were splayed out on the table, one of them addressed to Sun’s father. 

When Joseph saw that Sun’s shoes were still by the front door, he went to the bathroom and found her crumpled against the shower. 

His blood became ice. 

Joseph knelt in front of her, pressing his fingers to her wrist. Her pulse was slow, but steady. 

Fear spiked through his body, urging him to take hold of her face to rip the bandana from her hair to check for any signs of blood on her scalp. The bathroom was sharp with the scent of disinfectant. Rubber gloves and rags were strewn around her body. At some point, he figured, she must have fallen and hit her head as she was cleaning. 

“Hey,” he said, calculating whether it’d be safe enough to carry her. The keys to the truck were by the front door. It’d only take them around twenty minutes for him to get them to the nearest hospital if he drove with his foot pressed to the pedal. 

For good measure, Joseph leaned over to press his ear against her chest to check her breathing when he felt her fingers smooth over his hair. 

“You’re still here,” she yawned, blinking away the bleariness from her eyes. “That’s good.” 

Joseph fell back onto his palms, confused. “What?” “God, did I fall asleep?” She said, wincing as she rubbed the side of her neck. “This is going to suck so much.”

“Sun,” he said, trying to keep his voice level despite the panic prickling along his skin. The bathroom tile was clammy beneath his palms, but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the linoleum or his hands.  “What’s going on?” 

She sighed, sounding even more tired than a moment ago. “I got it into my head that I could tidy the apartment and rearrange everything before you woke up,” she looked away, sheepish. “You know, as a surprise. I wanted a clean slate. For us.” 

For us. It took him a moment for him to register what she meant. A clean slate. Just the day before, they had gotten rid of her ex’s things and in exchange for some new additions for the apartment. The makeover had been a way for her to move on and move forward. With him. 

“You’re a workaholic,” he drawled, the hint of a laugh softening his words. “Has anybody ever told you that?” 

Sun smiled, her eyes glinting in the way that made his chest tighten. “Wouldn’t be the first time.” She took a deep breath before continuing. “I’m glad you didn’t leave.” Joseph’s fingers curled against the tile. “What do you mean?” Sun brought her knees to her chest. “While I was out, I had a dream about the morning you left. You wrote that note. Said you had owed me one for letting you stay the night.” She rested her chin on her arms, casting her eyes low.  “When I was cleaning everything, I felt a little worried that calling this place our home would end up turning you away.” Joseph sighed, taking a moment to look around the bathroom. She’d done all of this rearranging only to feel afraid that he was going to run again? For years, running was all he knew best. But not this time. 

“You think I’d leave after we finally found a place for my toothbrush?” He asked, jerking his head towards the cactus-shaped toothbrush holder that they’d bought the day before that was sitting beneath the medicine cabinet. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Why?” 

There was a lot hanging behind that question. Sometimes even he forgot that before he stepped into the apartment, she had lived in it alone for so long. 

For a moment, he considered telling her about the dream with the lake, the tree, and its flowers. But that was a place that no longer existed. A month before he ran away from his hometown, the old crab apple had been struck by lightning. In one moment, the trunk was charred and split in half, never to bloom again. Whatever beauty the tree had offered to the place existed only in his dreams. 

But this was better than any dream. The linoleum beneath his palms. The sharp smell of disinfectant in the air. Her dark eyes looking right back at him. This was real. 

“You make it easy,” he said, his voice steady. “To stay.” 

A moment passed between them. 

“Good,” Sun beamed. “I’m glad.” As she loosened the hold around her knees, her stomach growled. She groaned, embarrassed.

Joseph laughed, pushing himself off the floor. Knowing her, she probably hadn’t had a bite to eat since the night before.  “Come on,” he said, offering his hand to help her up. “Let’s get some breakfast.”  Sun grinned. "Can you make the eggs like you did the last time? I've been dreaming about them."

✷ ever since they celebrated his first month at the apartment by cooking a pasta recipe together, joseph has been using the cookbook sun bought for them diligently. because of all the time he's spent on the run, he never learned how to cook and has been practicing often so he can impress her eat well. one of his favorite things about having this new skill is sharing a meal together.

✷ joseph grew up in a rainy logging town far from el paso. he's got a few scars from his time working at the lumber mill after school. ✷ sun is a pretty heavy sleeper while a feather falling through the air will usually wake joseph up unless he's absolutely exhausted. ✷ sun is a workaholic but so is joseph and maybe they've woken up to find the other leaning up against them while asleep on the the couch once or twice or a few times and didn't make a huge deal about it at all. they definitely didn't think about it for hours the day after. nope. ✷ sun does have a habit of occasionally having serious conversations while straddling or pinning someone down and it's really because it's a good way to prove a point, alright? she used to wrestle bullies to the ground as a teenager to teach them lessons and the habit never really left her. ✷ of course joseph followed sun on a tour around their apartment to listen to her talk about all the new changes she made and all the things they'll share together after they finished their breakfast. they spent like half an hour sifting through postcards from sun's dad.

a postcard on the dining table from me, pushed away to make space for bacon and eggs: thanks for reading! 🧡 i hope you enjoyed this one and i'd love to hear about what you think. i'm considering making a collection of side stories for this fic, so we'll see where that goes. 🥭

[mango-fizz]

i forgot what i had planned to caption this! look at my ocs ❤️

nsfw under the cut

if tumblr makes me censor these someone will get hurt

[ardenrosegarden]

[lairde-lampblack]

i have developed a theory that troupemaster grimm used to be a moon god and his holy grounds uswd to bw where the city of tears lays now, though he was nomadic and cast constellations to make the wastes safer to travel. the nightmare heart parasitized him and his rebirth ritual to propegate and his former followers confused pk's light for their gods' as many creatures confuse man made light with moonlight

i tried to capture elements from both grimm and radi, and the nightmares are his will o wisps!

the lumaflies are the only remainder of his name on people's lips </3

[earlykatgetsthesparrow]

my WC oc's twolegs after losing more than three cats because they keep becoming warriors: ah, the cat ran away again. time to get another one!

[meximango]

Day 27 - Memory - Altani - G

Summary: Altani’s echo manifested differently than her fellow warriors of light.

Ok so this one is basically just a summary so I don’t forget an idea I’ve had for a while, lol. Just like Krile’s echo gives her fancy empathy powers, I tweaked most of my WoLs’ echoes to give them a bit of extra flavor. Luvon’s was touched on/implied a bit in ‘tempest’ this year, and Cahsi’s was in ffxivwrite2022 I believe, I can’t remember the prompt, but it’s on ao3. So it’s time for Altani! 

--

Altani first saw The Starshower in her dreams around the time she met Mogren, almost got her brother killed, and that the entire village determined she was destined to be their next priestess and medium. It was a lively few weeks for sure, everything interconnected. She wasn’t even ten summers old yet, but even so, she understood deep in her bones that it was a turning point in her life. The gate was locked behind her, and whatever had awoken inside her was there to stay. Her life from then on would be full of deceit–lies she had to tell to others, and lies she kept all for herself. 

She had no idea what her dreams meant. That they were a memory. That they would provide her an advantage on her path to greatness. The dreams were scary, and far too real, and instead of offering her comfort as she woke crying and screaming, the elders would praise her for unlocking the ability to see into death itself. They’d ruffle her hair and pat her on the back, telling her to keep training so she could convene with her ancestors and grant them wisdom. She kept up the farce for the sake of Mogren, who’d been mistaken as a spirit Altani regularly spoke to, but it was so much less and more than that. 

In Altani’s head, The Starshower was always Capitalized, because it was very Important. She didn’t know why, but it was a feeling in her tummy she refused to ignore. 

Sometimes she’d wake and remember in perfect clarity as the sky rained fire and desperate screams reverberated all around her. Never was she able to tear her gaze from the sky above, to witness who was with her, what the landscape looked like. It was just the dark red night full of smoke and embers, blazing bright trails falling toward her. It had to be stars. What else could be falling? What could cause such a thing to happen? What if the dream was an omen of things to come? What if it sucked her inside, and she became one of those falling stars, burning up before she could even hit the ground? 

Other times, Altani would wake with a sense of unease, far more tired than was reasonable, completely tangled in her sheets as sweat coated her brow, and she just Knew that she had dreamt of The Starshower. 

It would only make sense years later, after speaking with the Scions of the Seventh Dawn, that she wasn’t alone. There were others who witnessed The Starshower, and it granted them special gifts. That her nightmares were actually a boon, a gift from the goddess of the star herself. But it would be many years before that point, and not even Mogren could understand her plight as a child. 

She turned it into a game, pretending The Starshower really was giving her the ability to delve into the lifestream and pluck stories and messages from long-dead tribe members. Each star that fell was just another of her ancestors coming by to say hello. They were already dead, so they couldn’t feel pain! The screams were actually high-pitched laughs. Her ancestors sure were silly, weren’t they, pulling a prank like that on her. It made lying to everyone easier, and sleeping became a little bit easier too. She was brave, and no way was The Starshower going to overpower her! The dreams became less frequent as she got older, and instead a few other types of visions manifested in her. It wasn’t often, but it did help with her priestess duties. 

Every so often, when someone talked to her–most often when reminiscing about something from their past–she’d suddenly be swept away and forced to bear witness to the moment they were talking about. It was as though she were there with them, as though she could alter reality if she just reached out and tried (she couldn’t, of course. She was an invisible entity able only to watch, but in the beginning she had wanted to find out. Thank Hydaelyn it was just a memory; to warp reality would have been too much power for a child who wished to have control over something in her life to have.) She got to witness the truth, even if the teller couldn’t remember it correctly themself or were lying for one reason or another. The downside was appearing as though she had been spaced out for a few minutes, followed by a wicked headache, but it was easy enough to write that one to the villagers as ‘divine communication’. She often used this to her advantage later, recalling the collected memories to help give merit to her own lies that she wove for the villagers about their dead loved ones and advice for their future. The best lies had a grain of truth to them, after all. Rarer, by quite a margin, were visions Altani had no idea how to explain or what they even were. It wouldn’t be until her trip to Norvrandt, well into her adventuring career, that she would begin to understand. Once in a blue moon, something would trigger her to view whoever she was looking at or speaking to in a different light. It started like a memory, with her surroundings fading out and transporting her somewhere else, but instead of seeing the person the vision was about, she saw someone else. Altani didn’t have the gift of aethersight, but she had a feeling, an instinct, that she learned to accept. The vision was about a different version of the person. Sometimes they looked very similar to nearly identical to the person in question, while other times, their race, gender, skin or fur color–everything about them was different. Except the eyes. That was the one factor that didn’t seem to change. Whatever eye color the present person who triggered the vision had, there would be at least a hint of that same color in there for the person in the vision. Even if they changed into a creature with limited eye colors! As much as she’d hoped this was perhaps the key to unlocking real medium powers so she could talk to her ancestors, it wasn’t meant to be. She never met any of her ancestors that way, as most of visions she saw weren’t of au ra, nor did they take place in the Azim Steppe. The second type of vision was far more confusing and far less useful to her, so Altani didn’t much care for them, waiting for them to pass and observing only with a passing interest, for the most part. It was strange, being privy to other versions of people she met, when those same people had no idea about or access to those alternate realities. She tried not to dwell too much on those. 

Some part of her wished she could have seen another Altani, though. Would they share her same gifts, her same curses? Would they be strong or weak, a natural crafter or a clumsy disaster? Were they a hunter, or a fisher, or a teacher? Would they become a parent, a merchant, a leader? Was their life a lie, forced to pretend they’re something they’re not to keep their village happy and their friend safe? Maybe they led a normal, mundane life, and would grow up to be nobody of import. Altani’s visions didn’t work on herself, so she’d never know what any other Altani was doing except herself. Maybe it was better that way, so she couldn’t become jealous of a life she couldn’t have. 

When she became an adventurer, met her fellow Warriors of Light, and discovered they had similar experiences with The Starshower and being forced into people’s memories, she hid her relief behind false bravado and a strong clap on the back. It was like the weight of Hydaelyn had been lifted from her shoulders, learning her affliction had such a tiny, unassuming name as the echo. That there was an entire group of people studying it, and that this thing she’d been confused and frightened about and taking advantage of for so long already was considering a blessing from the goddess Hydaelyn herself. Hear, Feel, Think, indeed.This gift was shared among a select few, and they were often destined for greatness, which was all she strived for these days. She wanted to be strong enough to protect everyone without the power to do it themselves. She knew what it felt like to be powerless and scared, and so she would ensure to keep others from those awful feelings as much as she could.

While the others shared in most of the same echo traits, none of them ever saw those other versions of people or at least made no mention of it, so Altani kept that close to her chest. Only Mogren knew about that little trait, and they’d probably forgotten about it by now, since she only mentioned it a few times when she was younger and never again. 

Luckily, she’d never had to deal with seeing other versions of her family of friends, but of course that changed when she started adventuring with those others who shared in the gift. Maybe it just triggered more easily for those who’d also seen The Starshower? 

During one of her travels with Luvon, she’d had a vision that couldn’t have been of his past, as it took place in a gigantic forest unlike anything that existed on the mainland. Small streams of unnatural, sickly white light passed through the foliage and dappled the ground. She saw a young qiqirn and an older one carving tablets together. The younger had a yellow-green glint of excitement in their eyes as they speculated about what lay in the ruins, and what their home had been like before a flood of some kind. A fear years later is when that ‘memory’ clicked into place. Her moment of breakthrough came through after she was transported to the First. When all major threats were done being taken care of with Cahsi and Luvon, she was helping the Qitari unearth their history. Among the group in Hopl's Stopple, she noticed the pair she’d seen in her vision. Huh. So the person she’d seen in that vision was not a qiqirn at all, but their equivalent on the First, a qitari. Someone from a completely different shard… She observed them from afar, not wanting to barge in with nonsensical questions, but seeing how the little qitari acted and interacted with others, she could definitely see the similarities between them and Luvon. It was incredibly strange, but she’d come to realize by now that nothing was too strange for this universe. 

Despite having fragments of the same soul, they were still their own people. She’d accepted that already with all the visions she’d seen throughout the years. Nobody acted exactly like their other version’s self, even if there were similarities. Ardbert was pretty different from Cahsi, for example. Altani could have smacked herself realizing one of her echo visions of either Cahsi or Ardbert were not about the memory of their meeting and showdown, but rather showing her that they were apparently versions of one another. That news sure might have come in handy before they had to defeat Emet-Selch–but then again, maybe not. Maybe it would have been even harder or weirder for Cahsi to let go. She’d made a close friend of the warrior in her time on the first, and had taken it hard when he had to leave. Altani had finally been able to meet him a few times before the end, thanks to some ingenious spellwork and alchemy on Cahsi’s part. It was sad that he had to rejoin Cahsi, but it was his own choice, and Ardbert had already been dead for so long, so that’s probably why he was able to do so in the first place. Altani wasn’t about to subscribe to the now-dead ascian’s idea that rejoining all shards of the soul into one was the only way to truly exist and lead a worthwhile life. From what she’d seen, other shards were doing just fine for themselves–independently! 

That said, she was pretty sure if she introduced Luvon to his qitari counterpart, that nothing would happen unless one of them were to die. Maybe. She certainly didn’t want to test that, it was a horrifying thought. They’d probably stay two separate entities, none the wiser of their status as parts of one larger, more powerful soul at one point.

Really, this was all a lot to take in and think about, and nobody she wanted to discuss it with. It gave her a headache. One day, she’d figure this out with her friends. Maybe it was selfish to keep this from them, but she’d seen the heartbreak Cahsi went through with Ardbert, and she just felt it was best at this time. They had enough worries on their plate as it was. 

[mossymango]

Heheeh, nom 🍈

[carriaqes]

Rebecca and Mika getting boba :)

[fr00tb0wl]

VERY busy at work, but my husband got me into the Witcher series and naturally, upon purchasing all three games, a book and watching half of the Netflix series, my kneejerk reaction was to make an OC.

Not a whole lot of drawings on her yet, but her name is Eleonara, the Mud Witch of Elgin. She is a past graduate of Aretuza and specializes in geomancy.

[voidsumbrella]

a comic about haven having a normal week. [3/7]

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[thy-fucks-runneth-dry]

Live Mango reactions as I doodled

[tiredsmashbros]

LMAOOOOO HELLLOOOO ????????/ WHAT IS THIS ??????? OKAY WAIT I DEADASS FORGOT I SEND YOU THIS AND THE FACT I GOT LORE FROM IT ITS SERIOUSLY DRIVING ME CRAZY WHAT. IM FREAKING OUT BRO WAHT WHAT WHAT GYIUHFJEDSXUIHKJ WHY IS BRO SOBBING NOOOOOO DR HORSEMAN ITS JUST A SILLY HORSE SHOW PLS NO CRY tsb its time to change the channel to bluey instead /silly EDSIXJHKNED

bro

when we binge watching the mlp gen4 series fr /silly

Right now

On second thoughts, binge watching is cancelled until someone gets some fucking therapy.

[fics-lovebot]

jujutsu kaisen fic recs pt. 3

main masterlist - jjk fic recs pt. 1 - jjk fic recs pt. 2

· · ♡ · · tysm to the amazing creative minds of the writers for giving me sevaral moments of joy reading your creations

these are my personal favs, so pls reblog if you like any of my recs❤️

yuji finds out gojo has a family - ( @kingkonoha ) fluff, lowkey angst, hubby!gojo, dad!gojo, so,,, this made me cry, i love yuji sm he deserves the world :( this is part two and it also made me crY MY MF EYES OUT :))))))))

can´t stop drinking - ( @kingkonoha ) ANGST, death, blood, dad!gojo, husband!gojo, mentions of wanting to die, a curse kills you and your son allegedly but in reality the elders had lied to him all these years, part 2 made me fucking crying

lambent - ( @xo2dee ) kinda fluffy, true form!sukuna, pregnant!reader, heian era customs, hubby!sukuna, a lil cannibalism, THIS NEEDs A KDRAMA

paparazzi´s pov - ( @rayveneyed ) fluff, award winning actor!sukuna, singer!oc, he likes messing around with supermodels but then the both of them meet at a fashion show, next thing you know oc got an anklet with his initials in garnet AÑDLJSÑFDLJ i really like this, would love to see a longer version

mangoes - ( @sttoru ) fluff, pregnant!reader, hubby!sukuna, tru form!sukuna, SOOO CUTEE, this acc had me giggling and kicking my feet

nanami drabbles - ( @sugurizz ) pwp, pls yall readdd part 2 and part 3, its crazyy

fifteen minutes - ( @roseglazedlens ) nanami smut. “Say that again. Louder. Can’t hear shit with the sound of my dick slapping into your cunt.” that´s all I have to say, your honor

protective - (@kingkonoha ) headcanon, hubby!kento, my man my man my man my man i love thissss

the horniest - ( @arminsumi ) gojo smut, ITS SO GOOOOOOOOOODDDDDD, he´s horny af, pussy drunk, obsessed, borderline crazy for that wap

phone calls - ( @kingkonoha ) slice of life, hubby!gojo, dilf!gojo, his wife and his daughter are his only priority, this is so sdkfjskdjfh :´( i love it

jock bf!yuuji - ( @tteokdoroki ) smut, fluff, all-star jock!yuuji, weird gf!reader, college au. one thing about me, i LOVE jock!yuuji. READ THIS AS WELL PLEASSEE

In denial - ( @rosesaints ) smut, sub!yuuta, "he doesn’t believe that it’s real until you’re actually sinking down onto his cock" period.

protective hubby - ( @slttygeto ) teacher!suguru, pregnant wife oc, it´s cutee

focus - ( @arminsumi ) suggestive, flirty!geto, tutor!geto, “you’re doing so good for me… keep going.” I HATE ITTTTT, i would fold like a mf lawn chair bitch OOF

wap - ( @tonycries ) smut, going in raw for the first time. i caNNOT EVEN BEGIN TO DESCRIBE HOW GOOD THIS IS JUST PLEASEEE GO READ IT

warm heart pastry - ( @cckaisen ) text, fluff, crack, first of all,,, i love yuji, second of all satoru REALLY needs help, and third of all WHY IS INUMAKI ALWAYS ON SOME SHIT??? lmaooooo

love struck - ( @xxsabitoxx ) fluffy, ex-fuckboy!satoru, he´s experiencing love for the first time :((((( IT´S SO CUTEEEEEEEEEE

love dumb - ( @arminsumi ) gojo fluff, blurb, you make him lose his composure, can´t even focus bc you´re over there existing, someone should make a longer version of this! so good

will always be yours - ( @nezuscribe ) smut, fluff, so basically toji only does rough sex, doggy style being his fav, but when it comes to you he prefers the loving-face to face-intense eye contanct type of sex (more like love making) bc being with you makes him feel ten different emotions at once :) DÑFLJSLDFJ

ridin dirty?! - ( @screampied ) smut, mechanic!toji, the beggining had me giggling and blushing sdlfhlsjh, he´s too fucking cocky lmao, writing his number on her asscheeks and stuff

losing his mind - ( @daisynik7 ) smut, dom!reader, hubby!kento, sub!kento, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, WHEEEEEEEEW, 10000/10, now this is new

his protégé - ( @augustinewrites ) fluff, slice of life, fiancé!kento, dinner time with yuuji, it´s so wholesome :´)

insecure bully!gojo - ( @saetoru ) angst, lil fluff, he´s a bully and he´s in love, but its not enough. part 2

best of the best - ( @saetoru ) smut, fwb! satoru, big sHIT talker omg, he lit asks you to be his gf wHILE he´s making you cum,,,,,best bf ever tho

[lairde-lampblack]

i have developed a theory that troupemaster grimm used to be a moon god and his holy grounds uswd to bw where the city of tears lays now, though he was nomadic and cast constellations to make the wastes safer to travel. the nightmare heart parasitized him and his rebirth ritual to propegate and his former followers confused pk's light for their gods' as many creatures confuse man made light with moonlight

i tried to capture elements from both grimm and radi, and the nightmares are his will o wisps!

the lumaflies are the only remainder of his name on people's lips </3