#|| I went through old art like... I miss my mage

[luckyberet]

Love how my muse returned like a slap in the face. Sometimes breaks do miracles.

[illarian-rambling]

Thanks for the tag @mysticstarlightduck!

OC Interview

Slowly but surely, I'm getting through my tags! To spice things up, I'm gonna use my new dnd character for this :)

Were you named after anyone?

"No siree, I'm the only Lady 3250 on this here Rock of Bral. I picked the first part because when I used to serve at an art gallery, before I became sentient, all the finest dressed people signed in as Lady. When I gained awareness, I knew I wanted to be like those people, those walking works of art, so that's the name I picked. It was only later that I realized lady was a title and not a name, but by that time, it'd stuck. 3250 was my old designation. I keep it as a reminder."

When was the last time you cried?

"What a silly question, dahling - can't you see these eyes are made of glass?"

Do you have any kids?

"You just really aren't getting this whole warforged thing, are you? I do not have kids. I suppose I could adopt eventually, but for now, I'm not quite ready to settle down."

Do you use sarcasm a lot?

"Only when I'm in suitable company. Politeness is important, but so is humor in the right crowds."

What is the first thing you notice about people?

"The level of care they put into themselves. A man with clean armor can be expected to be thorough on the battlefield. A mage with an organized spellbook is a mage more likely to not miss anything when investigating an old scroll. I try to surround myself with careful people, though I can't say I always succeed."

What is your eye color?

"A sort of glowing yellow. Like lamplight."

Scary movies or happy endings?

"I feel that horror films can produce a wider array of reactions in the audience if constructed correctly. The moments of fear highlight the times of peace and vice versa, making them both seem all the more potent. It's like a splash of orange paint in a sea of blue."

Any special talents?

"I'm quite the artist. My original medium was sculpture, however of late, I've been experimenting more with spray paint. There's something so intoxicating about art where it shouldn't be. I guess I could say I've also been gaining a talent in talking my way into places I don't belong for that very reason."

Where were you born?

"I was constructed as a non-sentient B2 guard unit on the Rock of Bral, a city floating within the Astral Sea. A merchant by the name of Silvanus Renn bought me to watch over his art gallery, where I spontaneously gained sentience after two years of service. Not that I'm not grateful, but I'm rather curious as to why that happened."

Do you have any pets?

"No, but I've heard tell of spells that grant the caster a familiar companion. I think that would be quite an interesting thing to have at my side."

What sort of sports do you play?

"I... don't?"

How tall are you?

"Seven feet exactly, but I usually wear heels. I might have changed occupation and rewired some of my brute strength towards nimbleness, however, I am still built as a fighter."

What was your favorite subject in school?

"I never went to school. When I gained sentience, I found I suddenly understood much of what I had perceived when I was mindless - including literacy and mathematics. Books filled in the gaps. I imagine if I has gone though, I would've enjoyed learning history. It's the world's greatest story, after all."

What is your dream job?

"I always thought it was working for the Bral Artists' Union, but then the guild leader turned out to be a P.O.S. who kicked me out when I left a rather artful, if anatomically exaggerated, marble statue of him outside the guild in retaliation for his changing of my contract without my knowledge. After I've found what I'm looking for out on the starry seas, I imagine I'd like to come back and start my own guild."

I'll tag @the-golden-comet @vyuntspakhkite-l-darling @cowboybrunch and anyone else who wants to play!

Blanks under the cut

Were you named after anyone?When was the last time you cried?Do you have any kids?Do you use sarcasm a lot?What is the first thing you notice about people?What is your eye color?Scary movies or happy endings?Any special talents?Where were you born?Do you have any pets?What sort of sports do you play?How tall are you?What was your favorite subject in school?What is your dream job?

[dailyadventureprompts]

Hey, I wanted to take a moment and say that I really enjoy the blog! Thanks for all the time and effort that you put in it!

I was also wondering if you might be able to provide some help? One of my players has been trying to make a patron that has a strong theme of sorrow and woe; without dipping into Fae territory. They’ve reached out to me to help and I’ve got absolutely nothing! Any ideas or concepts you might be able to make?

Monsterhunt: Thousandfold Sorrows

The hardest part of moving on is finding the way forward

A spirit of the plane of mirrors, Thousandfold Sorrows hunts those riven by great grief and loss, harrowing them with visions of a moment from their past from which they are unable to move on. Pain, shame, false hope, as the victim's mind is fractured by a multitude of emotions reality starts to go with it: different versions of their life playing out the possibility of what could've been.

Adventure Hooks:

A tragic cart accident goes even more awry as an out of control wagon runs into a girl walking down a busy market street who proceeds to shatter into thousands of mirrored shards infront of all the onlookers, horrifying the boy she was out on the town with. Stranger yet, the girl's description matches that of a young woman who went missing from her job at an antique store some weeks ago, as well as numerous other incidents all around the city. As it turns out, the shopgirl has fallen victim to Thousandfold Sorrows while she was lamenting wasting her youth in the dusty old shop instead of out there living life. Now she wanders the labyrinth of the mirror dimension, and the only way to get her back is to convince one of the impulsive duplicates that've slipped free in the previous days to take her place.

Seeking to undo the mistakes of the past, an aging mage has summoned Thousandfold Sorrows to ruminate on a tragedy from his youth, where the lives of his closest friends were sacrificed in the process of averting a magical disaster that would have ravaged the countryside. Increasingly desperate to know if he really did make the right choice, the mage has had Thousandfold sorrows run through endless permutations of events, eventually causing a chain-reaction of mirror magic that's split the local area (and nearby village) into three time lines: The present, the idealistic past, and an alternate version of events ravaged by wild magic. Caught in the middle, the party must discern the boundaries between truth and illusion and overcome paradoxical hazards in order to set the land right once again.

Like many creatures of the mirror dimension, Thousandfold Sorrows does not bear explicit ill towards those it haunts, instead existing in a state of perpetual reflection from a very limited viewpoint. It can communicate only through flawed reccolection, asking questions (sometimes radically inappropriate ones) about what its quarry WANTS as it desires to understand. One could perhaps say that it is hyperempathic but when that empathy is focused on something the quarry would really rather be left alone, conflict and tragedy will invariably ensue.

For the asker: Using Thousandfold Sorrows as a warlock patron will require your character to create a rough outline of their character and something tragic in their past, then have the mirror spirit relfect it back at them over and over and over as it tries to empathise. As for actual stats, I'd recommend searching 3rd party mirror magic and the unearthed arcana subreddit.

If you're not feeling particularly mirror focused, I could also recommend a number of possible patrons:

An engine of doom, pushed beyond its appointed rest

The Demon queen of despair and decay

A corrupted pagan god of being trapped in pain

A number of patrons in the "Compendium of forgotten secrets: awakening" one of the best and most thematically interesting warlock books out there, give it a google.

Art

[lunarosewood23]

FFXIVWrite2022 Prompt 2: Bolt

Timaeus is experimenting with his powers, and discovers a new arcane equip.

NOTE: Some spoilers from the Endwalker caster role quest, which I am rewriting bc that kid deserved better. Timaeus is my rendition of the clone that became the blasphemy of Ishgard. The super lazy TLDR of his powers is this: Timaeus was basically born with Allagan summoning programmed into his brain. And his egis, the adorable carbuncles I keep going nuts over? Those are the primal egi knights of the Ward, who are ofc alive in LbR. Timaeus is officially adopted by Zephirin and takes Valhourdin as his last name. And his powers are a little fucky, as I’m still meddling with his skillset to make sure it’s not too broken. (He can have a little OPness, as a treat! :3)

~~~

Timaeus couldn’t help but stare at the newfound gauge in his grimoire. It was a simple thing, but it felt much more complex. The way the glyphs looked to be that of a sword, a wand, an axe, and a spear was intriguing, and he wondered if there were multiple combinations of the sigils that gave him access to different arcane equips.

“Let’s see, sword plus sword gave me Angel’s arcane equip, the golden armor with the white greatsword...”He mutters to himself. “That’s the only one I’ve tried so far, and truthfully I don’t entirely know how I did it...”

He sighed with a pout and looked out the window. “I wish big sister was here, she’d be happy to experiment with me...”

He was so lost in thought that he didn’t even notice that he was pacing until he missed a step and went tumbling down the stairs into the kitchens. He let out a startled cry as tears gathered in his eyes from the fall, biting his lip to keep his pained cry from being loud.

“Owwie...” He mumbled as he fixed his glasses, a sudden bolt of pain rushing through his head.

“Hey lad, are you alright?”

Timaeus jumped as he looked up to see Hermenost knelt in front of him.

“F-Father Hermenost! Yes, I-I’m alright. I just missed a step.” He stammered as he tried to stand up. “I...wanted to play a little with my new powers but I don’t have anyone to really record what I’m doing. Big sister was helping but she got called by her friends...”

Hermenost steadied Timaeus as he got up, handing him his grimoire. “Would you like help? I may not entirely understand arcanima or the art that Mingxia has helped train you in, but I am still a mage despite my use of a battle axe.”

Timaeus stared wide eyed at Hermenost before shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m just...so cool...”

Hermenost laughed as he gently ruffled his hair. “What exactly are you doing?”

Timaeus got the biggest smile on his face, he knew he was acting incredibly childish, but he couldn’t help it as he excitedly started to open his grimoire, but then bit his lip in concern as he remembered that his egis could cause panic among the knights. He didn’t want to hurt anyone...

“Father Hermenost, can I ask you to not be upset about my powers?” He asked shyly, hugging his grimoire to his chest as his ears drooped in worry.

Hermenost gave him a confused look, and Timaeus hesitantly summoned one of his egis, making him gasp in surprise. “How...”

“Bis sister Mingxia thinks I was experimented on, which is why my memory is so fuzzy. But I can summon these egis like she can certain primal egis as her summoner. Big brother Zephirin is worried that I might hurt someone, or make them angry because of them. The big scary black dragon that appeared isn’t helping anything...”Timaeus explains slowly. “It’s why I’m a little worried to ask for help, but I don’t know who else I can ask...”

Hermenost is stunned by the egi at Timaeus’s feet, the knight egi holding a smaller scale of his old weapon, Greycloud. This was the form he took as a primal.

By the Fury, no wonder Zephirin was worried.

“I understand. I’m not upset and I see why Zephirin was worried.” Hermenost assured slowly. He let his eyes slip closed for just a moment, a silent prayer to Halone for guidance. “I will help you, but I do request that you explain all you know and understand of your situation.”

Timaeus nodded, his smile returning. “Okay. Can we go somewhere else? Maybe in the highlands? I wanna see if I can recreate what I did a few days ago.”

Hermenost nodded and the two of them walked through the city, letting Timaeus give his theory of this “arcane equipment” that he conjured and showed him the gauge in his grimoire, the thing he wanted to test was the idea of using the glyphs in different orders to get different effects. Once out of the walls of the city, he started to explain what he and Mingxia pieced together.

Hermenost’s heart broke for the boy as he squeezed his shoulder soothingly. “Blessed Fury lad...”

“We’ll figure it out, don’t worry.” Timaeus assured as he spotted an aevis, who charged at him. “Alright, let’s see how well this works.”

It took all his instinct to not jump to Timaeus’s defense as his egis stood at the ready. He drew his grimoire and threw out several spells before two glyphs looked to light up in his grimoire. One was an axe, but he wasn’t sure what the other glyph was.

Suddenly he saw the smaller egi of himself draw forward and looked to disperse before it reformed...using Timaeus as its host.

Timaeus jumped and slammed Greycloud on the ground and a bolt of lightning paralized the aevis before the armor released and Timaeus fell on his face in the snow.

“Timaeus!” Hermenost shouted as he ran up to him, watching as the other egis swarmed their creator. A thumbs up came up from the snow as he lifted his face up before picking up his grimoire and grabbed his quill.

“Axe plus wand equals levinlight!” He cheered as Hermenost sat him up in a sitting position and fixed his glasses.

“What in the Fury’s name was that??” Hermenost asked, stunned by what he saw.

“That, Father Hermenost,” Timaeus replied with a pleased smile. “Was my arcane equipment!”

[eskelbigbang]

Eskel Big Bang 2021 Masterpost

Here are all the fics and art made this year for the Eskel Big Bang. Congratulations on the hard work, everyone!

AO3 collection || #ebb works tag || #ebb art tag || #ebb fic tag

Below the cut is a full list of all EBB works:

Uprooted (T, No Pairing, 12k) by @rachofspades, art by @drachedraws

When a nondescript notice begging for a witcher's aid catches Eskel's attention on his way back to Kaer Morhen for the winter, he finds himself drawn in by his own curiosity despite his initial reservations. Once he arrives, it quickly becomes apparent that there's something more sinister going on than typical monster attacks, and he's determined to figure out what it is. Fic || Art (1) (2)

These Clay Hands (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.7k) by @aalizazareth, art by @hobbart-art

Eskel is a shy pottery instructor who meets Jaskier during one of his lessons. The two hit it off. Fic || Art

The Empty Safe Job (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 18k) by @iboughtaplant, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

A team of thieves with complicated pasts take down the rich and powerful to help those that get left out from justice. Their latest job should be simple, but an unexpected adversary has Eskel confronting his past. Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys. Fic || Art

the broken vines are an open door (M, Eskel & Geralt & Yennefer, 5.2k) by @trissmarrygoals, art by @flyingyarn

Traveling through Aedirn with his newly acquired child surprise, Eskel stumbles upon a dead body - and with it, a mystery. Fic || Art

With you I'll never be alone (T, Eskel/Geralt, 5.8k) by @dat-carovieh, art by @mondfuchs

From their first meeting, through their whole long life Geralt and Eskel have always been there to comfort each other when one of them got hurt. --- Or five times Geralt and Eskel comfort each other through some kind of hurt and one time they're just comfortable. Fic || Art

Eskel Has A Good Day (G, Eskel & Wolf Witchers, 9.3k) by @gods-no-longer-tread-here, art by @phoenixandjacob

The Wolves (and bard) of Kaer Morhen go on a vacation to the coast, and have a good day. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Tu Me Manques. (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 8k) by @etcorsolus, art by @cvbeebop

In which, Eskel meets a bard who calms him. Body, mind, and soul. Story title is how the French say 'I miss you.' The more literal translation is 'You are missing from me.' Fic || Art

Little Red (M, Eskel/Lambert, 6.1k) by @miahclone, art by @llwynbleidd

Eskel helps Lambert while he's recovering from a serious injury. To distract him from the pain, Eskel tells stories of past hunts. Fic || Art

Constellations (M, Eskel/Geralt, 7.2k) by @dredshirtroberts, art by @dat-carovieh

Eskel loves Geralt but their soulmarks don't match - he'd know. They're witchers, and scars are their business. As he joins Geralt in retirement, Eskel figures whatever he can get with the other witcher will be enough. He might get a little bit more than he thought he was bargaining for, but Eskel's never passed up a good deal. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Trial By Fire (Eskel and Aza's Wild Ride) (E, Eskel/OFC, 11k) by @janzoo, art by @liaonyxrayne

When Eskel rescues his succubus acquaintance from witch hunters, their reunion becomes something more as they're drawn into the hunters' plot. What can they do against a twisted idealist and the danger he presents to witchers and non-humans? Fic || Art

Pardon Me While I Burst Into Flames (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 29k) by @ghostinthelibrarywrites, art by @wolfgeralt

When Eskel is hired to kill an incubus who ruined a noble wedding, he finds that his target is far from a bloodthirsty beast, a too-pretty court bard. Eskel spares Jaskier and they go their separate ways, with Eskel expecting never to see the incubus again. But Jaskier has other ideas. Fic || Art

I Could Eat the World Raw (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 7k) by @buttercupsanddandelions, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

“This is Eskel.” He pushes him slightly forward, “And he just had his conduit moment.” After becoming a mage, Eskel finds that he's been soul-bound to a little lordling. Fic || Art

Something we bury (M, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @heartoferebor, art by @craftgamerzz

“Where’s Eskel?” Ciri asks Geralt, frowning a little. “He went out to do more hunting and gather some potion ingredients. Should be back any moment,” Geralt reassures her. “Ah. Good.” She hesitates a little before deciding to forge right ahead with her next question. She’s asked everyone else in the keep, of course she’ll have to ask Geralt, too. “About his scars…” * Ciri wants to know where Eskel's scars came from, so she decides to ask everyone at the keep about them. Except, they all seem to have different stories... Fic || Art

Lord What Fools These Witchers Be (T, Aiden/Eskel, 21k) by @jayofolympus and @frenchkey, art by aviixrc

When Lambert brings Aiden to winter with him in Kaer Morhen, Eskel is catapulted straight into his own personal hell. It would be easier if he didn’t like the Cat. Instead, he finds himself falling head over heels for his brother’s boyfriend and trying to hide it from a pack of nosy Witchers. If only Aiden would stop flirting with him... Fic || Art (1) (2)

A Moment of Comfort (M, Eskel/OC) by @merpancake

An attack at a brothel begins with blood and carnage, but Eskel finds an unexpected peace in the arms of Cenna. As their paths continue to cross, Eskel carries that same peace within him on his journey through monsters and men. Art

Toussaint's Finest (M, Eskel/Geralt, 9.1k) by @kate-river, art by @justhereforeskel

Eskel is still roaming the Continent. But in recent years the Path has become harder and harder. Eskel has made it a habit to come by Corvo Bianco around vintage and this year's events might change a few things in his life forever. Fic || Art

Beneath the Shadow and the Soul (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 32k) by @vix-spes, art by @buffskierights

Eskel had the strange feeling that everything was going to change when he passed through Dol Blathanna one year on his way back to Kaer Morhen for winter. He had been passing through a town and, instead of running away from him, someone had exclaimed “You’re a Witcher,” and proceeded to sing at him. He just hadn't realised how much of an impact it would have on him. Fic || Art

Daughter of Fire (T, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 4.9k) by @kittynannygaming, art by @zmezagain

Witchers are sterile, that's a fact. No female human can bear their child. Well, the keyword here is 'human' and a succubus is very not human. And Eskel now has a sweet 7 years old daughter. Fic || Art

Break It Recklessly (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 22k) by @anonymousblueberry, art by @nol-nol

From teenage tearaways to successful adults, Geralt and Eskel have always been inseparable. To the extent that when Geralt accepts a wedding invite with Eskel as his plus one, there’s the assumption that they have finally sorted their shit out and got together, forcing them to keep up the facade or cause chaos for the happy couple. What follows is a crash course in emotions, dating, and working out that love can burn long and slow for a very long time. Fic || Art

The Question (M, Eskel/Istredd, 40k) by @eskelchopchop, art by @stars-in-my-damn-eyes

Eskel's in Ohio when Yennefer calls. He’s reluctant to pick up; he’s still not over Geralt, and he's got zero desire to chat with Geralt's new lover. Turns out Yen isn’t his lover anymore, and this isn’t about Geralt. It’s about witcher’s work. Yennefer owns Portal, one of New York City's most popular gay clubs. A Post-Conjunction Entity (PCE) is hunting her clientele, leaving a string of withered corpses in its wake. The police are doing jackshit. Will Eskel come back to a city full of bad memories and take a job off the books to stop it? He'll sure as hell try. Along the way, he’ll cross paths with Istredd, a man with sorcerer’s eyes and a painful past of his own. If Eskel doesn't work fast enough, they both might become the PCE's next victims. Fic || Art

Is It Cold In The Water? (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 12k) by @jennyloggins, art by @jerry-of-rivia

His horse is tied to a branch a few trees out, and that’s where Eskel heads to grab his water skein, taking a deep drink and soothe his dry throat. Patting his horse’s backside affectionately on his way past her, Eskel feigns a stern voice to say, “Zuzanna, keep watch for me.” Her tail twitches as if to swat him away. Fic || Art

Everything I Want (I Can Find in You) by @eyesofshinigami, art by @phoenixandjacob

Eskel didn't think he'd ever see Jaskier again, sure the Cat witcher was only looking for a night of fun. But then he keeps showing up, taking Eskel to bed and leaving him little presents. It takes Eskel a bit, but eventually he realizes that maybe, just maybe, Jaskier means it when he says he wants to keep him. Or Eskel doesn't think he deserves nice things and Jaskier is determined to show him otherwise. Fic || Art

One Stop Shop; Tattoo's Piercings, And Love (M, Eskel/Jaskier/Lambert, 7.4k) by @jesheckah, art by @moondrunkart

When Eskel fumbles an invitation at a party to come into his tattoo shop, Jaskier and he move towards an explosive love. How many tattoo sessions does it take for the heart to know what it wants? Fic || Art

Entanglement (and other words for a mess) (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 31k) by @violaceum-vitellina-viridis, art by @merpancake

Eskel has a hundred marks on his body, but a soulmark isn't one of them. Fic || Art

Beneath Each Other's Bones (E, Eskel/Geralt, 7.6k) by @pressedinthepages, art by @drachedraws

Winter at Kaer Morhen can be brutal. But Eskel and Geralt find warmth in each other in an effort to stave off the cold. Fic || Art (1) (2)

#9fe2bf on the Shore (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.5k) by @buffskierights, art by @phoenixandjacob

The sea roars with a vengeance, something angering the waves even as the stars shine brightly overhead in the clear night sky. If Eskel were a poet he’d say it almost sounded like a wail of mourning, the way the whitewater crashes upon the night black sand and the gathering foam, the sea frothing furiously. But Eskel’s always hated his poetry lessons so being a poet is firmly off the table. Fic || Art

lion in the wolf's den (T, Coen/Eskel, 5k) by @patchwork-doublet, art by @justhereforeskel

eskel is nervous being around ciri, afraid things will go south like they did last time. Fic || Art

Sugar Baby Blues (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 24k) by adevinecomedy, art by @pastelrune

Jaskier’s mind slipped back to a night several months ago when he was all worked up but had nowhere to go and a mountain of school work to get through. How it was just so much easier to log onto a camming website and watch someone perform seemingly just for him. The gorgeous, confident man on the other side of the screen had been so accommodating, even though Jaskier had been shy and hadn’t typed much into the chat. Modern au where Eskel is a Cam boy and runs into a bit of a financial bind. Enter Jaskier who just might be the answer to all his woes. Fic || Art

Winter Comfort (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 10k) by @myidlehand, art by @liaonyxrayne

Jaskier comes to Kaer Morhen to spend some time with Eskel, after briefly meeting him in the fall. And while both of them seem delighted to see each other again, Eskel starts to shy away from Jaskier's comments and flirting. It doesn't take a genius to see Eskel is having body image issue. Jaskier aims to help him through it. Fic || Art

The Subtle Knife (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 26k) by @major-trouble, art by @cylin-aka-ankamo

There's an assassin haunting the Continent. No one knows their name, everyone - that is, everyone in the know - calls them The Specter. If you want a rival out of the way, a political opponent disposed of, or a strategic target taken out, contacting The Specter gets the job done. For a price, of course. There's an art to subtlety, after all, and it wouldn't do to risk the attention of law enforcement. So there's no obvious cause, no knife to the back, and the deaths aren't usually remarked upon. The Kaer Morhen Agency, however, has noticed. One of their agents has been hired to protect potential victims, people scared that they've been targeted. And they have reason to worry. When Eskel's first assignment winds up dead of no discernible cause, it starts him on a search for the elusive Specter, hoping against hope to track down the assassin before they're hired again. Setting a trap for a ghost is something Witchers are used to. Setting one for a trained killer may prove beyond them. Fic || Art

No Funny Business (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 11k) by goldendaydreams, art by @nanero11

Eskel had long given up on finding his soulmate, his soulmark nothing but scar tissue from a house fire he’d survived as a child. Knowing that most people wait for their perfect someone, their destiny, didn’t stop him from falling in love with Jaskier, the nurse he met after a hunt gone wrong. Fic || Art

Stronger Than My Storm (E, Eskel/Geralt) by @rawrkinjd, art by @nol-nol

Eskel and Geralt were friends from the very beginning. They added the benefits later. It was another way to offer comfort and companionship when the rest of the world closed in around them, and Eskel was content with it for years. Until he wakes up one day and realises it’s become something more. He touches Geralt’s silver hair, wreathed in a halo of yellow sunlight, and allows himself to feel the cracks spreading through his heart. Witchers can’t love each other. It would only lead to suffering. Eskel realises he must weather the storm inside or let Geralt go forever. Fic || Art

Full of Life (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 6.3k) by @sternenstaub28, art by @llwynbleidd

When Eskel gets hired to solve the case of people disappearing in town, she didn’t know she’d find a friend and maybe even something more. or Beauty and strength don't necessarily make your life easier, a companion and love however do. Fic || Art

choices are the hinges of destiny (T, Eskel/Geralt, 7.5k) by @lutes-and-dandelions, art by @cassandrasartworld

After rescuing a fae from the clutches of death, they repay Eskel by helping him make a choice. -oOo- A story about what would have happened if Eskel had claimed his child of surprise. Fic || Art

Eskel Vs The Continent (And His Feelings) (M, No Pairing, 47k) by @chibitabathasloves, art by @zmezagain

Eskel decides he needs to leave Kaer Morhen after the fight with the Hunt. Where will it take him? And will he be able to face his feelings he desperately tries to ignore. Fic || Art

lookin' to the sky to save me (T, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @torynickles, art by @trissmarrygoals

Geralt slides his hand from Eskel’s shoulder to his back. And then. Then he keeps moving it, outwards, away from Eskel’s torso, where there should be nothing but air, but— “What the fuck?” he chokes, because he can still feel Geralt’s hand, sensation where there should be none. He shakes his head wildly, twisting his arm to reach for his own back. His fingers connect to something, but—it’s not his body, it can’t be his body, even though he can feel himself touching it. Because he’s made up of skin and flesh, bone and muscle, and this thing has all of those, but— It’s covered in sticky, damp feathers. Fic || Art

A Fine Night at the Faire (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 12k) by Elensule, art by @liaonyxrayne

Eskel has been hurt by the world and hides for refuge in his little goat farm. He's found no reason to look for love, or much of anything else. But encouragement from his brother sends him to an unfamiliar locale; the renfaire! Maybe stepping out of his comfort zone was just what he needed. Fic || Art

[capt-spooki3]

By The Witch's Grace

Chapter One

A Sbi "choose your own story" fanfiction

It seems Y/n, a known and hated magic user in their small town, has a lot to deal with after the rowdy bunch that is Philza, Wilbur, Technoblade, and Tommy, show up at their door step in the midst of a giant snow storm...

Warning: Cursing, talk of hate/discrimination

2.6k words

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“Alright, we need flour, milk, apples... Uh no no stop meowing, please. Shit okay, flour, milk, apples, and what? Oh god, was it- oh! Bottles! Of course, geez.” Y/n laughs at themself before kneeling down, and pets the head of their cat who was demanding their attention. The little feline, who looked like a little toasted marshmallow, purred and meowed as she was happy with the much-needed attention.

“Alright Poppy, I’ll be back. Be a good little girl for me, okay? I’ll be back in time to give you supper I promise.” They baby talked to the cat with little forehead kisses before getting back up to their feet and reaching toward the wall where a large cloak was hung on a large nail next to the door. They threw on the heavy fabric and clasped the small glass button to keep it on their shoulders, their hand lingering as it passed over the glassy eye that permanently stayed on a chain around their neck. The result of a curse placed, not too long ago, that bound it to their person until death. Just the luck of someone who often plays with magic that they can barely comprehend.

The piece would pass as a decoration to any untrained eye, but to those who delved into the arts of magic, any one of them could tell you what this object was. With the deep and light greens with accents of blue and a cat-eye pupil that was forever staring, there was no mistaking an eye of ender. The object was rich in stored-up mana, but it was no joke. Even with the most skilled of mages, they had to be most cautious and limit their time interacting with the eye. The sooner they distanced themself from it the better as the eye has been heavily rumored to take possession of people who use its magic for too long. Mages long past wrote notes in books, Y/n as read countless times, on how the eye has influenced beings to cause great harm and destruction. Its motives are still unknown. 

With the object on their person 24/7, they take caution every moment in case the eye decides it's time to take control. They hope it isn't any time soon.

Tucking the eye of ender under the latch of the cloak, they peeked outside to be met with chilled air kissing their cheeks. The bitter promise of snow.

More the reason to get their errands done as soon as they could to get back home. As if their life being in danger wasn’t the biggest reason to rush so they could hide again. They carefully pulled on their hood and hid as much of their features as they could within the cloak before stashing a satchel that jingled with coins and setting off through the door.

Being able to leave their distant home was always a treat, but also a constant threat to their life. They were never positive if they would return home after each venture. As a magic user, thoughtfully given the nickname of ‘Witch’ from the townsfolk, they weren’t liked much. They made the mistake of trying to show off their powers once before learning quickly that magic was despised among these people. It was only associated with the rich who treated people lower than them like they were dirt under their shiny boots. Luckily they still had a vendor in the town that sold to them, it was the only thing keeping them going.

After about a hour walk down a few winding forest paths that they carved out by themself after years of taking the same route, the port town was in view. Snow littered the ground to the sides of the dirt roads that they walked along and the small breeze that was present ran cold, the overcast sky promised a harsh amount of snow. That is bound to make next week fun. They sure were lucky to bring extra coins so they can stock up.

Once reaching the main town, they made sure to keep their head down and slip through the hundreds of bodies at the markets. It was all routine now, sadly. They took a turn down an alley that harbored a few stray cats and even a dog that scattered when they pressed on down the alley. Softly, they knocked a code to the shopkeep on the old wooden door.

The door just barely creaked open and an old green eye peered out. Y/n looked down to meet the weary eye peeking out at them and couldn't fight a smile. An old cackle rang out and the door opened up wide to an older woman. She was small and had all gray and white hair that was long and braided over her shoulder, but her eyes were alive and she was brimming with joy.

“Oh my little bird, how are you doing?” She said fondly with a slight German accent and Y/n knelt for the woman when she reached to hold their cheeks and look them over.

“I’m well Oma, thank you. You look as young as ever.” The kind words made the woman laugh and she put her hands on her hips and let out a sigh of contentment.

“So what do you need today? I just got in a big order of sugar if you want some.”

“Oh, that would be wonderful actually. I need flour, milk, and is Opa at his shop today? I need apples and he always has those bottles that I need.”

“Actually, he is home sick today,” She started and she walked into the shop to retrieve what Y/n needed. “He caught a small cold but he’ll be better soon. Wait just a moment and I’ll go grab everything.”

The lady went off on her way and Y/n sat on the doorstep, waiting and watching the people walk past the end of the alley. They cringed to themselves whenever they caught the word witch in some distant conversations, they seemed to be a tall tale at this point. At least they weren’t being actively hunted down anymore.

A few long minutes passed and there was a small thump that caught their attention in the shop, when they looked back there were two large sacks and no sign of the woman. Rest assured, after a few moments, the old lady was just barely managing to carry two more large sacks filled to the brim with the few things they had asked for plus much more as they usually only bring one sack home each trip.

“Oma! Oh no, I don’t have enough for all of this! Besides, I can’t possibly carry this all back home.”

“I know, I know. You’ll need it with the weather we have coming on tonight, as payment you can show me that magic you talked about last time. You know that… carrying magic..” She gestured wildly, trying her hardest to remember the word as Y/n stood back up.

“Oh, my spatial magic? I’m not too good at it, but I am sure I can manage this. Alright, are you ready?” They checked the alley for possible watching eyes before holding their hands out with their palms toward the bags.

The old woman stepped back and watched with excitement, her eyes practically sparkling already. Y/n closed their eyes and sucked in a deep breath, their hand flexing a bit and opening wider. A soft purple light began to emit from their hands and two thin, long arms that seemed to be made from the night sky itself stretched out and each hand touched the sack and engulfed it in darkness before retreating back within Y/n’s hands. They let out their held and concentrated breath with a deep sigh, their muscles and bones feeling heavy as they held some of the weight of the sacks within their being.

“That was amazing! Oh, you are so talented, I am so proud of you.” The woman said happily and walked forward, pulling Y/n down and kissing the head of the young mage she seemed to love. “Please hurry home now, stay safe. Opa and I love you and I hope to see you again soon.” 

She waved them off and Y/n waved back, pulling their hood down more for precaution, and slipped into the crowd toward the road they took back home. They felt rather blessed they were able to make it home without even a scare.

They walked along the road, waiting to see their well-worn path as the heaviness of their body grew with walking uphill. Using magic like this weighed on the body and the soul with however much the individual was carrying. They reached up, pulling down the clasp to their cloak to reveal the eye of ender to the world. As much as they didn't want to rely on its power, it was the only way they would confidently make it home. Grasping the warm object tight, it pulsed with magic beneath their fingers as if it were alive, they sent their mana into the eye to mix and grant them a magic boost. They knew quite well the item was evil and no good to toy with, what else should one do when it's bound to them for life? With a soft purple glow to their eyes now, their body felt lighter and the strain to keep their goodies in a personal pocket in the dimension lifted almost completely. They shook off their bits of anxiety with the gain of power and picked up the pace to get home as small flurries were filling the air around them.

The walk back home was fast and they were beyond relieved upon opening the door and feeling the hug of the warm cottage and a string of excited meows when their familiar raced to greet them.

“Hey Poppy, miss me?” They stroked the cat before kneeling on the ground to perform the same technique of magic for consuming the sacks to spit them back out onto the ground in front of them and hummed a soft tune while they went through the goodies and put them in their respected places around the three stories of the home. Before they noticed it, the world outside had grown dark and they lit the lanterns around the house and peered through a window to see the snow blowing strongly and the wind howling, they hadn’t even gotten a chance to see the sunset. This was turning out to be a real blizzard, they did a silent prayer that it wouldn’t last long.

Just as Y/n was trying to put the last of the sugar away there was a heavy thump on the door followed by a hurried couple of knocks of which were all inconsistent but did the job of grabbing their attention. They fumbled with the sugar but safely put it down before hurrying to the door, their fast movements spooked the cat and caused her to scramble away to go hide.

Once getting the locks undone they opened up the door to see four individuals standing there, waiting. Two of the larger individuals there stood on the sides to frame the group in a way. The one on the left most who had shoulder-length pink hair and noticeable tusks sticking out from his bottom lip and inhuman down pointed ears, was using his large, red cloak to hold a blond boy who was about to his shoulder, against him and shield him from the snow. The two both had on heavy armor, though, the blond’s armor was a bit more leather than metal. On the other end stood a taller man with brown hair who also was in armor and was hunched over to be able to get covered by a large dark grey wing that held him. Said wings belonging to a man who was shorter than the brunette and had on expensive-looking mage robes and messy blond hair. The winged man looked to Y/n in desperation as he began to speak.

“Please let us stay for the night. We will leave as the sun rises, please just-”

“Stop talking- just come in. Hurry! It’s got to be below zero out there.” Y/n hurriedly ushered the bunch inside as they held the door open for them.

The burly pink-haired man was the first to make a move as he pushed the blond boy off of him and through the doorway and was already reaching over to push the brown-haired man next. He made sure the winged individual made his way in before going in. He looked at Y/n who was still holding the door and adjusted his jaw, a nervous habit it seemed, eyes darting around a bit before he returned his eyes to them and gave a nod of appreciation.

Y/n barley was able to get the door closed after him before they turned around and was assaulted with a hug from the winged man, he was incredibly cold. They hugged the man back, rubbing his back a little as he said many soft thank yous to them, though they watched the other three who stood close and looked around at the bottom portion of their home. The blond boy hugged himself close, shivering and the brunette rubbed his back as he looked around.

They hope they wouldn’t regret not thinking it through before letting a bunch of strange people into their home.

“I truly cannot thank you enough for this. We would have died out there.” The man said as he finally let go of Y/n and studied their face for a moment, looking for words it seemed. “We should introduce ourselves. I’m Phil and the big guy back there is Technoblade. The lanky one is Wilbur and the blond one between them is Tommy. They are my sons.”

Y/n watched them as Phil introduced them, each of them giving them some sort of little greeting when they were called. Whether it was a head nod or a little wave or a smile. They seemed nice.

“One hell of a family..” Y/n mumbled which Phil seemed quite funny and even Wilbur chuckled a bit.

“Oh yeah, but they are my boys.” He said while looking at the three with fondness.

The sweet moment was caught a little short when Technoblade crossed his arms, his body language screaming distrust. He looked down at Y/n and sized them up as he grumbled out a question that sounded more like a command. “What is your name. Who are you.”

“Techno- for god’s sake be a little nicer could ya? Bloody hell, they just saved us.” Wilbur retorted and Technoblade huffed a little growl and looked away. Wilbur gave a short and annoyed sigh, looking back at Y/n as he pulled his hand away from Tommy and instead rested a hand on the hilt of the sword at his waist. It wasn’t meant to be seen as a threat, but the gesture did make Y/n a bit uneasy as they shuffled back a tad. Instead, he just spoke kindly with an inviting hand gesture.

“What is your name?” He stated and he and Phil looked at them expectantly.

They hesitated for a moment with the eyes on them and cleared their throat, standing taller. “My name is Y/n... it’s nice to meet all of you.” They thought for a moment about what they should say to these people who stood awkwardly, warming up from the cold. “How about I uh… go get some blankets for you all. Blankets and I’ll set up my two spare rooms.” They added as more of a side note to themselves than the group and hurried up the stairs to get things together. 

This was going to be a long night. They can only hope the snow stops soon.

[Chapter Two]

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Hi!! Spooks here. Like the first chapter? Want to make sure you know when i post the next chapter and any after that?

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And thank you so much for reading!!

[rebrandedbard]

If you are still writing 14?

Okay so this one accidentally went from a drabble to an actual fic whoops. The cure is totally inspired by the Rapunzel fairy tale, spoiler alert, where the prince falls in the thorn bushes around the tower and Rapunzel’s tears fall into his eyes, curing him.

14. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

wc: 4444 which is an awesome number I’m so happy lol

Robbed Blind

Someone botches a spell to steal Jaskier’s artistic vision and he’s cursed with blindness. Thankfully, he falls into the company of Ciri and Lambert. They journey safely to Kaer Morhen, but what could be the cure to his affliction?

-

She had found him, tripping over the strings of destiny, in Drakenborg. He’d been on his way to Oxenfurt when the curse took hold, and he had gone no further. Jaskier was haggard, gaunt, and looked quite worn. His hair lay flat from constant fussing. It was a habit Ciri remembered well from his visits, always combing a nervous hand through his hair before a performance. She had never seen it look so lifeless. He needed a mirror, she thought. She would soon realize that a mirror would serve him no purpose.

He was blind. He startled when she ran to him, throwing her arms around his waist. She’d been so relieved to see a friendly face that she’d run right into his arms, nearly knocking him from the stool in the corner of the tavern. Why should he not catch her as he’d always done? He’d been looking directly at her; she thought he’d merely not recognized her beneath the mud and hood.

“Let me go! Who are you? Stop—stop this now or I’ll give you such a wallop, I’ll—!”

“Jaskier!” Ciri cried, shocked. She flinched away from him as he elbowed her roughly against her temple. She rubbed the spot, standing out of reach.

Jaskier straightened up at once. “Is that—? Little cub, is that you?” he asked. He turned his head as if searching for her and reached out a hand, feeling the air. It was nowhere near.

Ciri took his hand. During their long weeks of travel, she refused to let it go again. She became his eyes, and together they started for Oxenfurt and the safety of its halls.

He’d woken up blind one day, he explained. No warning or explanation. The mage had told him what magic was at play. Someone had tried to steal his artistic vision and the enchantment had gone wrong, stealing from him his very sight.

“Is there not a cure?” Ciri asked.

Jaskier shook his head. “The mage said it was a botched spell. There’s no telling what will fix it, only that it must have something to do with artistic vision. The mage suggested it might be cured by the old methods: kisses and the like; gazing upon true beauty.”

He squinted and took her face between his hands. “I’m looking and looking at you as hard as I can, and I remember you were the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen when you were first born. So what do mages know? Have you become a pox-faced adolescent or scraggly Medusa? Ah,” he chuckled, “but you’d still be a fairytale princess in my eyes if you had the face of a basilisk.”

She laughed and squirmed out of his hands. “You were always very good at Blind Man’s Bluff. Do you remember when we used to play it? Back then, you were always stumbling; you aren’t stumbling as much anymore.”

“I’ve grown used to it, I suppose. But you are a princess—do you suppose a kiss from you might cure me? How are you with frogs? Ever wake a sleeping prince?”

“No, but we may try it. There’s magic in me of a sort, I know. Here, kneel a moment.”

Jaskier knelt on the dry road and closed his eyes, tapping the lid. “Right here. Give it a go,” he said encouragingly. “If it doesn’t work, we’ll practice on a frog and work our way up.”

Ciri kissed both eyes to be sure. “Alright. Open them. Do you see anything?”

She tried not to get her hopes up, watching Jaskier squeeze his eyes tight. He opened them, blinked several times, and gave her a sad smile.

“Not to worry, we’ll find a pond in no time,” he joked, trying to keep the mood light.

-

“Well! I go to find a cat and find a lioness instead. And a songbird. Must be my lucky day.”

Ciri put herself between the stranger and Jaskier, waving a large branch in warning. “Keep away,” she growled. “If you come any closer, I’ll scream.”

The scruffy man put his hands up and grinned. “I’ve heard what sort of screaming runs in your family. Trust me, I would rather not be around for one of them. Heard it knocked pretty boy flat on his back at your mother’s little Surprise party.”

Jaskier put a hand on Ciri’s shoulder. “Wait a moment,” he said. “I know that moniker. Geralt complained of it before.” He was quiet a moment, stirring up a memory. Then, he lit up, asking excitedly, “Did you say you were looking for a cat? A cat witcher, by chance?”

“Why? Find one up a tree?” the stranger pressed.

Jaskier patted Ciri’s shoulder and strode forward, extending a hand. “You must be Lambert! I’ve heard—” his hand buckled against Lambert’s chest, his stride clearing the distance too quickly “—oh, my apologies. I’ve heard about you before. I was hoping to see you under better circumstances if I ever got the chance. Or to see you at all, really. Damnable timing.”

Lambert looked at him, then took his hand. Ciri watched as the understanding settled in, for Jaskier was staring straight at the man’s forehead, a near lucky guess of his eye line. Lambert wore an expression of pity freely, knowing Jaskier could not see it, though his tone was light and cocky as before. “I always wondered what you saw in that sourpuss, following him as long as you did; now I know you didn’t see anything after all,” he joked.

Jaskier snorted. “It’s new.”

“Ah, so you’ve been blinded by love, have you?”

Jaskier flapped his hand until he felt the brush of Ciri’s sleeve at his side, then he tugged her forward and presented her. He cleared his throat, a tad flushed. “May I introduce Her Royal Highness, Princess Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, the Lion Cub of Cintra. Geralt’s child Surprise.”

Ciri tossed her branch aside. “You know Geralt,” she said.

“They’re brothers.”

Lambert sneered. “He got all the looks, Eskel got the talent, but I got the brains.”

“What little there were to be had,” Jaskier added.

“Oh, ho! You’ll fit right in at the keep, talking like that.”

There was a pregnant pause between the three of them. Jaskier nudged Ciri gently forward. “She’ll be safe there. And her wit is more cutting than mine.”

Ciri turned at once to protest. “But what about Ox—”

“And so would you,” Lambert cut in. “A dull knife and a dull wit can be sharpened, and I’d rather keep two knives in my belt than one, whatever their make. Don’t start that maudlin shit with me; you’re coming along.”

Jaskier opened his mouth to protest and Lambert raised a hand. Then, realizing how ineffective that was against one who could not see it, he recovered and smacked the side of Jaskier’s head to shut him up before he started.

“Come on; it’s a long and dull road we have ahead of us, and you’re my entertainment. I want to hear every embarrassing story you can supply. I’ve long run out of blackmail and I’m in need of fresh material. Besides, what better bait for a cat than a twittering bird? If you sing loud enough, we might pick him up along the way.”

-

They were all together in the great hall when at last he came. The figure stood in the doorway, a black dot against the stark white of winter outside. A pair of bags dropped with a thundering bang upon the floor, the sound echoing throughout the room, and the figure bundled up by the fire started awake in fright.

Jaskier patted the blanket beside him, made frantic by his sudden awakening. “Ciri? Ciri!” he called, for she had been asleep next to him what seemed only moments ago.

She paused only a moment to stare at the imposing figure in the light. Something in her shouted, compelling her to go to him. But Jaskier called for her in that voice wrought with panic once more. She flew from the circle of wolves to his side, abandoning her hand of cards, disregarding the man of destiny at the door.

“I’m here,” she said, taking his hands. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always. I’m not going anywhere.” She and the others looked at each other, looked at Geralt, and said not a word.

Jaskier settled and took a deep breath. “I heard something crash. I dreamed—but never mind that.” He sighed, pressing his head to their joined hands. “I’m sorry. I know it’s safe here. I’m just not used to you wandering off just yet.”

“I know.” She stroked his hair gently. It was soft again, though not as silky as before. Lambert and Eskel had drawn him a bath for the first time in a long while, but he had not his customary soaps and oils. He was … less bright, his appearance dulled with his mood.

Vesemir had examined him. Countless hours, the wolves had huddled together in the old library, trying to find a cure for Jaskier’s condition to no avail. As time went by, the reality of his situation weighed on Jaskier. He could no longer read his notebook, nor write his music to be remembered. Ciri read his notes aloud and studied the art so she might transcribe them for him, but it was obvious how he felt.

“I don’t want to be a burden,” he’d said.

And now he gave her that same false smile, the one that failed to meet his eyes. She missed the lines in the corners and wished they might come back. Perhaps they’d flown off with the crows, frightened of the winter snow.

“Go back to your game,” he whispered. “I’ll head up to bed.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” she offered.

He shook his head. “I know the way now. If someone will take me to the stairwell?” he prompted, raising a hand.

Ciri looked at Geralt. There was so little she knew of him—stories and songs … words spared in rumors and stolen from conversations where she lingered unnoticed to listen. What she knew of the wolf and bard she had pieced together with care. For all the tales Jaskier would tell, he would not disparage Geralt before her, and he would not tell the story of the dragon hunt. But dwarves talk. Stories travel and lesser bards would imitate the songs of greater. Witchers collect news of other witchers, and two adults would speak as adults when ale made easy speech. Jaskier had confided in Lambert those tearing words once flung at him upon the mountain. And thus she had put the final piece into place of the great mystery between them.

‘If life could give me one blessing…’

“Who will take him?” she asked. She kept Geralt’s eyes as she rose to her feet. “Who will take him into his hands?”

It was only the barest movement, but she swore she saw the wolf of legend flinch.

Jaskier sat up with a huff. “You make it sound so dramatic. Are we playing at a quest now? Very well, who is my knight errant? The princess has thus decreed a quest is in order: a quest up the perilous tower steps, my-my! Such a task!”

“I should think a white knight is the one suited best for the task,” Vesemir grunted. He shuffled his hand, eyes narrowed at Geralt.

The white knight in question let his cloak fall. He shook the snow from his arms and dusted them slowly, looking at each watching face in turn. His hesitation was clear. When none moved to claim Jaskier, he stepped forward cautiously. Without a word, he took Jaskier’s hand and lifted him to his feet.

Jaskier clapped an arm around his shoulder, hands patting the edge of his long hair. “Ah, thank you, Vesemir,” he said. His hand slipped from Geralt’s armour and he made a face, flicking his wet hand in the air. He prodded the armour curiously. “You’re soaked; I thought you said you’d sent Eskel for the firewood.” He prodded again and bumped against Geralt’s shoulder pad. He pinched it between his fingers, figuring out its shape. He hummed curiously. “What are you wearing? Did you go hunting?”

Geralt stared. Jaskier was not looking at him. Geralt looked at the circle of men by the fireside and there sat Vesemir in silence, watching. He was struck dumb. What … game was this?

“A knight needs a knight’s armour,” Lambert called.

Jaskier laughed. “Oh, of course. Such a soft touch; did you get all dressed up for Ciri? Have I woken in the middle of a game?”

Eskel tossed a card in the middle of the circle. “Yes,” he answered, “but we’ve just started on another, different game.”

“Very cold and calculated,” Ciri agreed.

“Cold and calculated. So a snowball fight has become a snowball war, no doubt born of the most complicated strategies. Shame on the lot of you. You ought to let your elders warm themselves before sending them on tasks. You’re young; you’ve got legs,” Jaskier scolded.

“It was his idea,” Eskel replied.

Vesemir nodded, keeping silent as the game unravelled.

Jaskier looped his arm through Geralt’s and stood straight and tall in an affected manner. “Come, my good knight,” he said, “and let us bid good night to these slacking youths.”

He started to walk in the general direction of the stair, Geralt turning them with truer aim. Geralt looked over his shoulder at the others, frowning. This was not the sort of confrontation he expected when next he saw Jaskier. If he ever saw him. And here was his child Surprise in their midst without a word of greeting or explanation, and the bard, the two of them together and settled within the walls of the keep.

It was too perplexing for him to puzzle out. And Jaskier was acting strangely. Where were his speeches? Geralt had expected him to argue on sight, or else to pretend all was right and greet him, “Geralt! How good to see you,” or, “Fancy meeting you here,” and play off the mountain like it never happened. Or at the very least to ignore him. But to call him Vesemir and take to his arm? What joke was he playing at?

The answer came as Jaskier dodged the first step and nearly fumbled upon the stair. He clung to Geralt’s arm with a cry and his other hand shot out to grope the wall. He flailed for it, feeling his way from the step outward, then sliding his hand up the side of it. He turned his head, looked at Geralt and laughed. “I’m still not used to these uneven steps,” he said. “Give me time and I’ll be able to find my way around unassisted. By next week, I’ll be able to navigate every pool in the hot springs, then you four will never see me fully dressed again!”

Geralt raised a hand to Jaskier’s face. He rested a thumb just beneath his eye. They were as blue as ever, nothing seemed amiss, and yet …

Jaskier’s smile weakened. He closed his eyes and pushed the hand away. “I know the three of you are working hard to find a cure. I know the jokes fall flat. But I must make them. If I don’t … Vesemir, if I can’t make light of it, the darkness I see will be all I have left.”

He turned toward the stair again, hand firm on Geralt’s arm, the other on the wall. “Right then. Up we go. Just one at a time,” he said. He stepped tentatively forwards, prodding his foot before him until he nudged the base of the first step. “Got it. First is always hardest, isn’t it?”

They carried on. Two steps, three, one after the other slowly. They were uneven by design: a final defense against those who would try to invade their stronghold. The spiral stair favored those who walked it every day, gave advantage to the men who would be at the top, swinging their swords to fight back those who would dare trespass unwitting. It was difficult enough for any stranger with sight. With Jaskier, it was a quest in itself.

Midway up, Geralt thought to carry him. They were going so slowly; it would have been easiest that way. He nearly offered, but stopped. If he spoke, Jaskier would know him. He began to reach an arm out to simply lift him, but Jaskier fumbled once more, his knee hitting the step with a mumbled curse. And Geralt heard him muttering through his teeth as he crouched upon the stair.

“I will learn,” he hissed. “This will not stop me. I refuse to be a burden to anyone. Never again.” He touched his forehead to the step and Geralt put a hand to his back. He was trembling.

When Jaskier rose again, he did not take Geralt’s arm. He reached out and took hold of the wall on either side, arms stretched wide to hold himself up. He proceeded to climb the stair alone. When Geralt reached out to help, Jaskier waved him away.

“No,” he whispered. “We’re nearly at the top. Just let me do this much. Please.”

And Geralt let his hand fall away.

Jaskier reached the landing with a powerful stomp, expecting a final step. He breathed a sigh of relief and sagged against the right wall. Geralt followed behind and patted his shoulder. Small congratulations. From there, Jaskier walked down the corridor, tapping when he came upon a wooden door. He passed three, tapped each with his knuckles, counting. When he reached the forth door, he opened it. In this space, he walked with ease away from the wall. He flopped confidently upon the bed and rested a moment as one does after a long journey.

He shucked off his doublet and loosened the laces of his boots. He set these aside at the very foot of the bed where they might easily be found again. He undid the back lace of his trousers, paused, and inclined his head toward the door.

“Are you still there, Vesemir?” he asked.

Geralt did not know how to respond. He stood fixed in the doorway, but dropped his eyes to his feet modestly. After a moment’s wait, Jaskier finished undressing and climbed beneath the heavy furs. A memory stirred—that was not the final task of the evening. What was the last of their routine each night? What was left undone that made this finality seem so abrupt? Geralt realized it in the darkness of the room. He had no candle to blow out.

The truth struck Geralt sharp as a blade to his gut. He stole through the door, walking quietly toward the bed. He sat on the edge, the furs rumpled beneath him, and listened to Jaskier’s breathing. He was not yet asleep—would never be, so soon—but he did not stir.

Geralt took his hand gently.

Jaskier squeezed it back.

“I only wish that had not been the last I’d seen of him,” Jaskier whispered. “I try to remember his smile now. For all my poetry, I can’t remember it clearly. His smiles were so rare, but I don’t suppose you need me to tell you. Or perhaps you do. I don’t know if he smiled here; I know nothing his life in this place. Were you so fortunate that they were commonplace?”

Silent footsteps creeped up the stair. Ciri had waited long enough to follow. Geralt heard no sign of her under the ringing words of Jaskier’s speech. Though he spoke no louder than the breath of the wind, every last syllable echoed like a clap of thunder in his ears.

Jaskier slipped his hand free and turned on his pillow, hugging it close. “I wish I might at least see Ciri now, know how she’s grown. They change so quickly at that age. Does she look like her mother? Does she look like him? Destiny makes strange things of those it touches. She was beginning to look like him, I once thought.”

She saw him well enough, looking through the open door. She crouched behind the wall, listening as she always did in secret, for the things he would not burden her with.

“I always did wonder what you looked like. Geralt spoke once to me of his brothers, his mentor. You’re still stories to me in ways. I know you have long hair, grey with age. I know Lambert is shorn, Eskel is shaggy. I know your voices, your height, and a hundred other things. But do you share his eyes? What color is the armour you wear? How does the sun set over the mountainside? The carpets before the hearth—what pattern is woven there? What thousands of stories do you keep in that library? What do the monsters look like illustrated in the great bestiary?”

He buried his face in his pillow. His voice was muffled, but both Geralt and Ciri could hear the husk in it. “I won’t feel sorry for myself. It doesn’t mean anything—just idle curiosity. It doesn’t matter how the carpet is woven or if you wear brown shirts or red. I’ve seen a lifetime of sunrises and sunsets and stars. I don’t want them!” he barked. He writhed on the bed, his face falling from the pillow, stained with tears. “I don’t! I never needed them, not one! I don’t care—I don’t! None of them are important!”

Geralt rushed forward and took Jaskier in his arms. Jaskier struggled, beating at his chest, and refused to be coddled. “No!” he wailed. “Don’t comfort me, I don’t need it! I don’t want it! I will not be pitied!” But for his hard words, he clung to Geralt’s armour, sobbing against his shoulder. “It’s unnecessary. It’s just a bunch of poetry. Useless poetry and songs.”

Jaskier pulled away, Geralt’s hands trailing from his back to his shoulders as he sat up. Geralt held him there before he could retreat more. Before he could think twice of it, Geralt leaned in, his hands cupping Jaskier’s face on either side.

“Vese—”

Something warm and wet fell onto Jaskier’s lashes. He heard a shaky breath, felt the warmth of it upon his face. Another hot tear fell into his other eye and he blinked in surprise, for it was not his own. He sat perfectly still in shock, blinking the falling tears away.

“They were never useless,” Geralt said. “They were always important—all of them.”

Jaskier twitched, raising his head by instinct up to look at the man who held him now. “You were—!”

“I’m sorry. For not speaking before. For … not speaking then. After. And for saying what I did that day.” He wiped the tears beneath Jaskier’s eyes away, an expression of pain twisting his hollowed features. “If I’d not sent you away—I don’t know what’s become of you, but I might have—I could have tried to prevent it. You would still have your sight.”

Jaskier covered Geralt’s hands. “No, Geralt. This is none of your doing. You can’t—”

A loud bump from the hall startled him. Jaskier turned at once to look.

“Ciri,” he breathed.

Ciri had a finger to her mouth and was glaring up at a tall man. They both cowed back, being caught. Jaskier looked between them as Geralt’s hands slipped away. He stood, walking toward them. He looked at Ciri, gaping, their eyes perfectly aligned. Jaskier fell to his knees before her and took her hands without fumbling.

“Ciri,” he said. “You’re so … my good gods, you’ve grown.”

All were still as he reached out, touching her face as though she were made of glass. He smoothed her hair away, taking all of her in. He laughed, new tears falling as he pulled her close and crushed her in his arms. “You’re so beautiful!” he cried. He stroked her hair, cradling her against him as tight as he dared. “And you!” He looked up at the witcher in the hall, reaching out to him and taking his hand. “Which one are you? Say something now, quickly. Let me hear your voice and know you.”

“Eskel,” he answered. And then Jaskier was up on his feet, pulling him into another embrace.

“Eskel!” Jaskier cheered. “Eskel, you look even more heroic than I ever imagined! Oh, let me look at you. Oh, oh! Lambert! Vesemir! Where are you, come forward!”

He dashed into the hall, only to turn on his heel for another look at Eskel, for just one more eyeful of Ciri. Over her shoulder, he saw Geralt sitting there on the bed, his yellow eyes wide, the tears still clinging to his chin.

“Oh,” Jaskier whispered. “Oh, I see. I see.”

He walked forward, gliding a hand beneath Geralt’s jaw. He touched his eyes with his other hand. Carefully, he wiped the last of Geralt’s tears away. It dangled, a little drop at the tip of his finger and he brought it close. He closed his hands around it, cradled them to his chest.

Geralt stood slowly before him. And he smiled.

Ciri tugged at Jaskier’s shirt, her head turned away politely. She cleared her throat and said, “Jaskier? Lambert and Vesemir are on their way up. And you’re … well, you’re not at your most presentable.”

Eskel averted his eyes, his back turned to the scene, however touching. “You might want to get a bit more dressed. And quickly,” he added, for Jaskier was standing in his smallclothes.

Jaskier snorted. “All of you, turn away for decency’s sake! We’re having a moment, here.”

“And what about me?” Geralt asked. “Shall I look away?”

It was nothing but empty jest and Jaskier smiled. “No,” he replied. “No, you’re looking where you’re needed. But I suppose to be fair …”

He clapped a hand over Geralt’s eyes. He leaned forward, whispering against Geralt’s lips. “There. Now no one can see. No one … but me.”

There were no witnesses to that first kiss. It was a secret Jaskier kept for himself.

However, the second, third, and forth had quite a startled audience, as Geralt and Jaskier both fell deaf to the clatter of footsteps in the hall. Ciri took it upon herself to usher the others from the room, explaining on the way. After all, with the curse lifted, she no longer needed to be Jaskier’s eyes. His mouth, however, was currently occupied.

-

Send me a drabble prompt!

[autumnslance]

would you be willing to make a masterpost of all your sharlayan research and headcanons? please please please and THANK YOU if you do

I can certainly try! A lot of my info is from what little we have so far, and my own fics are where a lot of my headcanons go to live, with little snippets about various characters here and there in my scattered lore posts, as well as stuff I’ve collected from other players.

Other Resources In Louisoix’s Wake - The twins’ official Calamity short story on the Lodestone. One Name, One Promise - Thancred’s backstory, from Limsa to Sharlayan training to his early assignment in Ul’dah and then early Shadowbringers. Mirke’s Menagerie - A compilation of lore info from in game, lorebooks, panels, interviews, short stories, etc. There are about 4 or 5 Sharlayan-specific posts @mirkemenagerie has made.

Encyclopaedia Eorzea - If you can get your hands on copies (physical officially; digitally is Unofficial so far as I know), I recommend it! They’re both good reads, though EE 1 is the one with a blurb on Sharlayan as a nation.

Posts by Other People - that I have collected Leveva Comment About Archon Loaf - Keeping in mind Sharlayan’s bad cuisine has been canonical for years per lorebook 1. They care more about ease of eating while studying, also seeing culinary arts as an academic field, not a practical daily exercise. Lorebook 1 Astrologian Lore - screencaps from the lorebook. Phaedra’s Teen Scion Sharlayan Antics fic - I am happy to take responsibility for inspiring @phaedra-mero to write this delightful scene.

My Own Posts Red Mage Research - Includes books from Gubal Library. Scion Ages - Pointing out the ages of the Scions, particularly the Archons.

My Fics - Sometimes there’s more HC musings in the Notes and Comments. I try to stay close to canon, at least as it is when the fic was written. Rogue’s Prelude - Multichapter, teen Thancred meets Louisoix, Yda, and Papalymo. Written a year prior to Thancred’s official ShB story above. Aetherology & Skulking Boots-Beginnings - Y’shtola agrees to tutor Thancred in how to speak properly as teenagers in the colony. Chin Up - Yda gives Thancred advice as youths in the colony. Dreams of Home-Lucubration - Yda, Lyse, and Thancred in the colony. Younger Sister - Thancred’s relationships with the Hext sisters over time. In Violet’s Wake-Louisoix’s Children - A Master Matoya PoV from StB patches. There’s a brief chapter with her and Y’mhitra in Dreams of Home, too. Excerpts from other posts - things that ended up as commentary on other threads, with some editing since.

From a thread that started off as about Thancred’s Gear from ARR to HW:

Sharlayan is a nation on an island NW of Eorzea proper; the Sharlayan everyone we know hails from was a colony that became a city-state a few hundred years back and part of the Eorzean Alliance, in the Dravanian Hinterlands, where Idyllshire is now. After the fall of Ala Mhigo and then the Battle of Silvertear Skies, the Forum (their ruling body) decided to abandon the city and return to the motherland, a process that took 5 years before they all just teleported out in a day. Except Matoya, and those archons that worked for Louisoix and that he asked to stay and go to the remaining 3 Alliance cities. This would have been 15 years before ARR/Heavensward.

The Students of Baldesion are also Sharlayan; the Isle of Val, their headquarters, being under that nation’s banner. Sons of St Coinach are another offshoot; Rammbroes (Crystal Tower raid story) was originally part of Louisoix’s Circle of Knowing (who eventually became the Scions), and Y’shtola’s sister Y’mhitra is one of the Sons and part of the Summoner storyline.

Thancred got involved as a youth–by trying to pick Louisoix’s pocket, and impressing the old man with his skills, and so Louisoix brought Thancred back with him to give the kid an opportunity for study. Yda and Lyse escaped Ala Mhigo, and with help from Papalymo, who was part of an effort to help refugees seeking shelter in Sharlayan, they ended up there, and Yda is the one who actually became an archon.

Most of the other senior Scions, so far as I know, are native to Sharlayan, either the motherland or the colony. The Leveilleur twins were born in the Hinterlands Sharlayan, but raised in the motherland, as they were less than a year old when the exodus happened. The university they and Krile attended is the Studium. Becoming an Archon seems to be a separate process not everyone goes through, and is a demonstration of mastery in chosen field(s) of study. That’s the significance of the tattoos some of the Scions have on their necks or faces.

Sharlayan is basically a nation particularly focused on academia; the trouble is, for the last couple decades, it’s been controlled by a faction of isolationists who would rather hoard knowledge and sit in the proverbial ivory tower looking down on non-Sharlayans, claiming others would abuse their knowledge, and that they should simply observe history and not try to affect it. Louisoix, Matoya, and the organizations they associate with (the Circle of Knowing/Scions; Sons of St Coinach, the Students of Baldesion, etc), think that viewpoint is stupid and go against it. A big part of the Astrologian storyline is dealing with Sharlayans who dislike Leveva’s family sharing Sharlayan astrology with outsiders, for example.

What sort of relationship Sharlayan and Ishgard had before the exodus isn’t really detailed much; both were pretty insular and focused on their own issues (like many of Eorzea’s city-states outside of crises), and the Dravanian threat at the time might have kept them pretty separated by land. Sharlayan was responsible for Eorzea’s aetherytes and keeping the aethernets working, though, and it’s suggested they still handle that post-Calamity to some degree. We pay fees for teleports because reconstruction and upkeep is pricey for all of the city-states.

Next post:

The Isle of Val was the headquarters of the Students of Baldesion, Krile’s family and order, and was a Sharlayan institution. It’s destruction/missing status happened during the ARR patches, and Krile was saved by Hydaelyn as she has the Echo (as an aside: you can hear Minfilia talking to Krile via linkpearl in the background on the Enterprise after rescuing the Scions from Castrum Centri before Ultima, and she constantly refers to and worries about Krile after the Isle of Val goes missing, but then plot happened to Minfilia so we never see them together as friends). The Ascians seemed to have a hand in the Isle’s disappearance…but there’s story about the fate of the Isle of Val and the Students of Baldesion in Stormblood’s Eureka plotline.

As for the Archon Marks, if they do confer social benefits, aside from being an easily seen status symbol for some highly skilled & educated folks, it hasn’t been mentioned yet in concrete terms, though we know the rank has benefits (like access to forbidden lore). Mostly they are a way to tell at a glance who has obtained the rank. It’s like if people with doctorates had a tattoo of their degree symbol on them so you knew just by looking.

As of Shadowbringers 5.4, we know that to become an Archon a thesis is required, and it’s a great deal more work than a Studium graduate’s final thesis. It strikes me that Studium (which some of the Scion Archons also attended) is like undergrad or Masters studies, while Archon is a Doctorate level.

I personally headcanon that the arcane marks confer some minor, slowed visible aging and other vague magical benefits befitting their rank in Sharlayan society. Really, that’s a way for the devs to avoid new models and add to the confusion in 1.0′s intros and the running joke about Y’shtola’s age, BUT let’s come up with an in-world thing, too. There has to be some explanation for Thancred’s perpetual baby face when he’s not RPing a Mountain Hobo ;) Also we really don’t know for sure how old Matoya is. Just old.

Lorebook 2 Notes:

Mikoto Jinba (Return to Ivalice, Save the Queen storylines) worked on aetheric siphon research with Moenbryda, and at 29 is the youngest Raen with the rank of Archon in recent history. It was Jessie’s connections that brought her to Cid’s attention and got her involved in the Return to Ivalice story.

Ejika Tsunjika (Eureka storyline) went to school at the same time as Krile and Leveilleur twins, endorsed by Galuf Baldesion, who Ejika later chose to work under. He’s resentful of Krile and the twins as Ejika himself is of humble origins and had to struggle to get to where he is, yet hides his Archon brands with high collars as he refuses to believe himself unique or exceptional.

[kate-river]

Proud to present you “Toussaint’s Finest” - my witcher fic written for the Eskel Big Bang, featuring incredible art from the wonderful @justhereforeskel Enjoy! ;)

Relationship: Eskel/Geralt

Rating: M

Word Count: 9K

Summary:

Eskel is still roaming the Continent. But in recent years the Path has become harder and harder. Eskel has made it a habit to come by Corvo Bianco around vintage and this year's events might change a few things in his life forever.

Read the first chapter below and or the completed fic on AO3.

Check out @justhereforeskel‘s artwork!

Eskel knelt down beside the riverbank. The gravel scrunched under his boots and for a second, his cat-like eyes flashed in the sun. He sighed when he reached into the water and watched as the stream carried away a tiny trail of blood.

The wind rustled in the nearby trees and the witcher, still rubbing his hands clean, turned his gaze southeast. In the distance shimmered the familiar vineyards of the Sansretour valley and the sight of their natural beauty stirred something in his heart.

Behind him though, the monstrous cadaver of a bear lay on the blood-soaked ground. The beast had a ferocious wound on its shoulder and the once so powerful creature seemed shrunken now that its body was lifeless. The most apparent feature of the corpse however, was its missing head. The very same that dangled from Scorpion’s saddle.

When Eskel got up, he was disgusted and sick at the sight. As a witcher he was supposed to kill beasts. But a bear? It had just been another curiosity that had suffered from coming too close to a village.

Eskel sighed as he mounted Scorpion. He strongly felt the need to leave this place; to move on. To get away from a task that he had only been compelled to accept in order not to arrive at Corvo Bianco empty handed.

As Scorpion fell into a powerful gallop, Eskel relaxed into the movement and his thoughts wandered off. A sensation of freedom pulsated through his veins and for a moment his doubts vanished.

 A few hours earlier…

 “Hey Master witcher, over here!”

A young man dressed in a worn-out leather jerkin waved in Eskel’s direction. His eyes were blown wide and his straightforwardness suggested an urgent matter. Eskel reigned in Scorpion, left the dusty path and took a halt next to the man.

“Master witcher, an evil spirit is roaming the woods.! Two days ago, one of our men was killed – I beg your help! We’re poor country folk, but we will pay!”

You better do, Eskel thought to himself. Although empty, his purse weighed heavy on his conscience. Arriving at Corvo Bianco without money would embarrassing – tolerable still - but heading for a winter at Kaer Morhen penniless would even be dangerous.

Eskel immediately recognized the hostile reactions when they entered a small woodworker’s settlement. Children were hushed and hastily dragged into their homes by their parents. Doors were hurriedly shut and if Eskel would have wanted to see, he would have noticed the people starring and pointing at him behind drawn curtains.

But he had no other choice. For weeks there weren’t any good contracts and a mysterious monster in the woods sounded like something profitable for once.

The young man led Eskel to the biggest hut of the settlement and a sturdy, yet bald man standing underneath the nearby oak tree suddenly stopped his wood carvings. Eskel noticed that the man’s left hand was missing a finger and his expression was anything but welcoming. He gave the younger man a sharp look and then turned to Eskel.

“Master witcher, how can I be of service?”, with a feigned smile he added, “I’m afraid but… we can’t offer children.”

Eskel, already used to this kind of reaction, sighed and looked him straight in the eye, making a dirty brown iris meet his shiny amber one.

“I was told there was a contract.”, he stated slowly, distinctly.

“I fear there must have been a mistake.”

Suddenly the door behind the man opened and a dangerously beautiful mage entered the place. She was dressed in luxurious fabrics and her long black hair nearly reached her waist. The two men bowed before her. But Eskel, weary of the hostile welcome, denied the courtesy.

“What do we have here?” she mockingly asked. “A mutant –created by the most senseless representatives of my guild. You’re a rarity these days, witcher.”

“With all due respect, your guild indeed comprises some senseless individuals, sorceress.”

“Witcher, you have a wicked tongue too. What a pleasure!”

She smiled slyly and gestured him to follow into the hut. He did, but with sharpened senses. Surprisingly the mage, as rude as she had appeared, was straight forward about the monster – beast to be more accurate - and sincerely promised Eskel a reasonable reward.

 But when Eskel returned to the woodworker’s settlement with his trophy his doubts returned as well. The village seemed abandoned. Nobody tried to hide and nobody pointed at him. Alarmed he scanned the few huts and carefully pushed Scorpion to move on. Something was wrong and he wasn’t eager to find out what or why.

At a twitch of his medallion Eskel tensed up. The vibration grew stronger while he neared the main hut, but as he was close enough, the sickness he had already felt once today returned. From the old oak tree hang the lifeless body of a young man dressed in a worn-out leather jerkin.

Anger welled up in the witcher’s chest. He tied Scorpion to the old tree and suppressed the need to let out a furious roar. Eskel soundlessly drew his sword – the steal one, as it befitted the monsters he was going to fight. But before he could come any closer, the door of the hut opened. The mage shielded by the poorly armed woodworkers emerged.

She gestured the men to let her through, but the moment she left their shielding ring Eskel’s blade touched her throat.

“One step closer and you’ll be next. What happened to him?”, he barked.

The mage laughed hysterically and answered “Sawyer? He brought a mutant to our village, the poor lad. In these parts people get killed for less.”

At this exact moment, she tried to conjure up a portal, but Eskel was faster. He stunned her hand and instead of a portal a wobbly structure appeared behind him. She screamed angrily and used the few seconds to pull a simple dagger from her boots. In the meantime, her ever so brave protectors advanced, coming for Eskel with raised axes and pitchforks. The witcher growled and parried the blows easily, but the distraction was enough. The mage leapt at him, missing his throat by the fraction of an inch. Eskel roared and suddenly he couldn’t contain his anger. He was a monster? A mutant? Well, then they should have their mutant!

Taking his left hand from the grip of his sword Eskel felt the tingle of magic flow through his hand. His powerful Igni struck the line of woodworkers and chaos broke loose. They screamed trying to shield their burned faces, dropping their weapons in order to stifle the fire on their cloths. The fire caught hold of the hut too and the less wounded men tried to keep it under control.

Meanwhile the mage had prepared to conjure up another portal. But Eskel wouldn’t let her go through with it. With a swift movement he left behind the inexperienced fighters and blocked the mage’s way.

“Go to hell, witcher!”, she gasped out as Eskel launched into an attack. But before his sword could come close to her again the bald man with the missing finger threw himself between them raising a rusty pitchfork. But the witcher’s sword pierced his lung and his last words drowned in a pained gurgling.

Hysterically laughing the mage cried out “A monster slayer! Look around you witcher –are these men monsters to you?”

“Why did you hang the boy?” he panted. He knew he wouldn’t have long until the shock of killing innocent people would settle in. He had to finish this quickly.

The mage’s insane laughter didn’t help. She managed to open the portal and just before she slipped away a precise blow separated her torso from her lower body.

In his rage Eskel turned around and roared. He grabbed the pitchfork of the dying man and went over to the old oak tree. He rammed the pitchfork into the earth just below the hanged man’s corpse. 

Scorpion whinnied and Eskel, still half in fight mode, took down the bear’s head from his horse’s saddle.

Wordlessly he impaled it on the pitchfork – leaving an unmistakable sign.

[capri-ramblings]

Okay so, I'm sure it's been kinda obvious I've been down with writer's block due to the lack of actual content on my blog recently, but somehow while scrolling through Tumblr I came upon @tsuisute 's art of Lilia wearing a rather risque bat lingerie and somehow something in my self-doubting brain clicked and I came up with this short fic. It starts off pretty angsty and I'm not sure when part two is going to come out but basically it's Lilia coping with his young s/o going through a really low point in their lives but yeah, I'm sorry if this turned out kinda flat cause my writing gears are still pretty rustic but I couldn't get it out of my head until I started writing it down. So, hopefully it's good enough! 💖💖

Safe and Sound

Summary: A slight rise in detachment and tension has been visible in you lately and being the ever observant Fae he is,Lilia has a hunch it has to do with your work as a medical mage working in devastating war fractions. He tries to reach out to you, but you keep your distance. At the end of it all, will this cause a bigger gap in your relationship or will it bring the two of you closer?

Part One: To push away one's heart.

The door to the age old manor, closed heavily behind you. The after echo of your footsteps shuffling inside softly whispering into the ancestral walls.

It was odd to have come home to such a quiet place after staying a whole day at a warring border. You felt out of place,detached even. As if this house you grew up in felt horribly unfamiliar. Sometimes it scared you, and sometimes it made you sad. Either way, you tended to avoid anyone in the household from interacting with you after your working hours.

Well,you tried your best to avoid everyone at least. Lilia would always be an exception, and not because you didn't have the heart to ignore him but instead you couldn't ignore him. He'd flock right over to you the moment he'd know you were home and then anything you said to make him leave failed.

He'd always had a mind of his own after all. Things people said went through his head but it didn't necessarily mean he'd take them into consideration. It all came down to the fact that Lilia was always the one with wisdom and truth, he's lived long enough to write books on it, so maybe in a way him interrupting your Isolation was a good omen in disguise, but still, it had you gritting your teeth each time he came up to pull you in an embrace or pat your head.

Today seemed to be no different, as you made your way to the staircase and saw Lilia waiting at the top of it with his usual beaming grin.

You didn't want to meet his gaze then. Something inside of you churned and boiled at seeing someone be so comfortable and gleeful.

"Welcome back,little lantern!" Lilia greeted,his deep red eyes sharing the smile he wore on his lips.

You felt your brows furrowed, but answered him with a slight nod. "Where's Silver and Malleus?", you asked as your bristled pass him at the top stairs and headed for the hallways that lead to the rows of bedrooms. Lilia followed behind you.

"They've gone off, somewhere,well, Malleus went off somewhere then Silver went to go look for him"

"Sebek?", You glanced over your shoulder. Lilia lent a smile your way.

"Training, as always. He wanted to tag along with Silver, but he has a competition later this month, Silver told him to stay and practice"

You let out a small hum, your pace absent as you walked right pass your bedroom door and Lilia had to tell you you had missed it. And as he went to push open your door, your limbs felt forlorn and worn out. There was such a strong urge to simply just fall flat onto your bedroom floor and pass out, but Lilia kept his careful gaze on you and ushered you inside the room, with your bag already in his grip.

Years living with him, and you still couldn't fathom how he did certain things without being noticed.

"A whole day and you've already forgotten where you sleep. Tsk,tsk,tsk...my little lantern has lost their touch of home"

With your back to him as you took off your jacket, Lilia came and wrapped his arms around your waist,the sudden warmth of his body pressing up against you causing you to go stiff.

"Lilia–"

"You should stay home for the week". He murmured,soft and low it sounded almost as if he was pleading.

You placed your hands over his on your waist.

"I can't. They're already short handed over at the border, and even if I am just a medic, it'd be too chaotic to just leave them like that"

"You need your rest, lantern"

"Then leave me alone."

The words left you bitter and taut. A string of unsaid wounds lingering at the back of each enunciation you gritted your teeth on. Your hands clenched over his and the way your chest heaved gave the impression that you could hardly take in another breath.

Lilia released you, and you walked over to your desk and sat down. Your head hurt, and your heart didn't seem to know why it was aching.

"I just need to be alone is all. I don't need you to dote over me,Lilia,I just..."

What did you want? Peace maybe. After seeing all that bloodshed in a single land while its people dropped dead like flies, two years working as a medical mage felt like an eternity of attempting to save people who had half of their bodies blown off as they cried and begged and sputtered out blood.

You wished you'd gone blind, but then again the screaming would have haunted you all the same.

Warring fractions were just a few in the Fae Kingdom, mostly because the lands and people involved in it would've died out before help could even reach them, but still, those that remained became cursed and bloody. A sight you wished you could burn out from your very thoughts.

You never had talent like Silver or Sebek, let alone Malleus himself, but Lilia said you always had a knack for healing, always being the caretaker even amongst your peers. Thus, you dedicated yourself to the one thing you were good at and became an active medical mage. From in-house check ups to risking your neck at war borders, you did what you could and suffered from what you couldn't.

You wanted to save everyone on the field, dying or not,but too many times you saw that hope of yours crushed right before your eyes, and it took its toll on you. At night, you hear the warning sirens and in the morning when you wake up, you dreaded to see the smiling faces of your companions, because you've started to wonder if by horrible fate itself, they laid dying in front of you, could you actually help them?

Vehemently, you pushed back the cry burning in your throat and shut your eyes tight.

'Forget it' . You told yourself. 'You don't have to remember. Just forget.'

It hurt for Lilia to watch you then. Something other than paternal grief overwhelming him. He'd known you've been dragging your own spirit down for a while now, but you were so adamant on avoiding the topic, he hesitated on confronting you about it. After all, it was your pain, your own sorrows, who was he to demand you to show him the scars and wounds you hid away?

He wanted to help you, to do anything he could to soothe your ache. But he couldn't do a single thing if you wouldn't let him.

"I'll leave you be then" Lilia said,soft and endearing, almost as if he was cooing to a child. "Rest well,my little lantern"

[yasuda-anis]

A Blessing for a Friend

One of my first released works for Anis, I wanted to give something to a friend of mine. To @writer-and-artist27​, Vy I’m glad to have met you and I love your stories. I hope we can keep being friends for a long time.

As for what I listened to while I wrote this it’s Wonderful Future or Prekasno Daleko. Just cause I really like it and the mood got me excited. May your future be bright.

The heavy smell of bread blew into Anis’ face, fogging her glasses in a few seconds. It seemed that despite all the enchantments that Medea and others had placed on them for protection and preventing them falling off, some things could just never be avoided.     Anis waited a few seconds for them to clear up, enjoying the rich scent of vanilla and almost drooling. But it was important that the last part be done right.

If she messed this up, the whole thing would lose more than half the impact. But the heat coming out of the oven was still intense enough that she hesitated reaching in, even with her gloves and apron.     “Need a hand there Master?” A cheerful voice called out behind her before a large heavy paw settled on her shoulder. It was a familiar feeling, but something she hadn’t felt for a while. 

“Thanks Tamamo,” Anis sighed as she stepped aside. “I’ve been out of the kitchen for a long time so-”     “No problem, no problem Master!” She grinned as her tail whapped her master gently. “I see you when you come to eat everyday so I do see you. But this is certainly something new.”

Back in the days of Chaldea… that was - never mind. When she had first arrived Tamamo had been there for her. Making sure she ate, making sure she had someone to talk to, and more importantly, being there for the warmth Anis had been missing. Back then, Anis would always stop by at least once a week to be with her- to talk, be pampered, spar, or just to get some motivation. It had been some time since Anis had come back to see her.     Cat had come to visit herself mainly. But that was enough of that.     “It’s a bit of a special occasion,” Anis confessed, breathing in the warmth from the tray Tamamo passed under her. “I really wanted to do something for her.”     The fresh pastry was then quickly flipped over into a small basket, the smell of vanilla a bit more muted now. Cat moved over to bring over the picnic basket and pack in plates, utensils and some drinks.     Anis put on her gloves- made out of materials she was sure a regular mage would kill her for- and reached into a small box to pull out small clay figurines. She then cut small holes into the pastry and inserted them, quickly closing up the holes with nata.     The figures had been a group effort between her, Medea, and Nito. Making them heat resistant and non toxic had been a bit trick, but according to Medea the materials were easy enough to come by.     “All ready here!” Tamamo saluted with feral glee. “Now! Quickly before that other cat burglar comes in!”     Anis had factored in anyone coming in to try and steal it. But even the best laid plans need to adapt quickly, she thought as she wrapped it up in cloth and shut it in the basket. But alas, the smell, however faint, still escaped the basket. She would have to hurry. Or else…

“I’m off then! I’ll be back later!” Aniis yelled as she started moving quickly to the door. She could run. But the chances she could trip weren’t her main concern. Gotta act natural. I have an important appointment! But too fast and they’ll catch on!

    Tamamo waved her away with a handkerchief, calling out all sorts of fun jokes at her. Anis waved back and went off the hallway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hallways of Novum Chaldea were packed. The early days of an empty Chaldea faded in the first months, and Anis was used to wandering both in her old Chaldea and in this one like a metro station.     Staff and servants moved in their flows- the main speed being kept except for a few who were assumed to just be beyond reprimand. Anis would normally be a patient walker, her pace easily adjusted to suit whoever she was walking with. Today though she wove and dashed through the flow, trying to minimize her impact by calling out warnings to those ahead.

Excuse me! 

Pardon me! 

Sorry! 

Hi! 

Sorry, a bit busy! 

No problem, just gotta go!

Not right now thanks!

Oops! You good? I’ll make it up to you later!

Sadly though, the kids had caught her. As she expected. The child servants were always on top of any delicious snacks and treats in the base before the other two threats of Jaguar, who would demand them, and Ibaraki, who would never bother to ask and just take it.     I lost 5 minutes to negotiations, but hopefully I can still make it on time! The kids had realized quickly what the occasion was, but demanded an equal treat and participation in one of their tea parties. Apparently, Mori was hosting this one as his first foray into western tea ceremony. 

But there it was! The door to Vy’s room! With one of her servants waiting out front as usual. Today it happened to be Emiya and Artoria, or Art as Vy called her. The pair had been chatting in front of the door before noting Anis, a bit winded, approached them.

“Hello there you two,” Anis panted, checking inside the basket to make sure nothing had spilled. “Is she back yet?”

Opening the basket had apparently been a mistake, since the culinary duo immediately caught onto what sort of treat Anis had brought and smiled. “She is not back yet, but if what you brought tastes as well as it smells I should believe my master will enjoy it,” Arotria smiled, her gentle gaze clearly showing her desire to try some as well.

“It’s been a while since I smelled something like this. Is that-” Emiya approached, starting to reach out to the basket.

Anis flinched back, covering the basket with her free hand. “Sorry about that, it’s best as a surprise ya know? Don’t worry though, it’s meant to be shared.”

Artoria nodded. “Indeed. You should learn to be patient like me. After all, Miss Anis has told us quite clearly it was meant as a surprise for all of us.”     A letter had gone out to Vy’s main servants last week, indicating that on her birthday, they should split into two teams- one to distract Vy, and one to stand guard and prepare the room. Anis had barely made it to the room before the deadline.

Anis held out the basket to Emiya, until he took it with both hands. “I’ll just leave this with yall then and head off after telling her-”

“Telling me what?” 

“YA!” Anis yelled and stomped her foot hard to prevent from accidentally swinging her elbow towards the voice. A very bad habit that had been the sad result of both martial arts training and poor nerves. 

“Eeep! I-I’m sorry Aqui! I didn’t mean to scare you like that…” Vy mumbled, wrapping her arms around herself. “It’s been a while since we saw each other, so-”

Anis breathed out, trying to relax. “It’s fine- fine” Anis breathed out again, her heart rate returning to normal. “Happy birthday Vy.”

She said it in the gentlest tone she had. Because it was her. One of the kindest souls she’d ever met, and deserved all the respect and charity the world had in return. Even Anis’ servants would treat her kindly and take time to chat with her from time to time. 

“Thankie Aqui,” she smiled back in the way that had made her so warm to all she met. “What's that? It smells delicious~” “Hold on there little sparrow,” Robin grinned as he put a hand on her shoulder, earning a small pout from her. “I think we should all go inside and get the full surprise right?” Anis nodded, glad to not disappoint. “We came up with a nice little thing for you Vy!” Anis smiled, something she wasn’t too familiar with, but she was glad her tone at least matched the mood. “I wanted to give you something as thanks for what you’ve given me and others here. And sorry to say, I won’t take no for an answer.” “Muuuu. This better not be something too big Anis.” _________________________

It was a simple affair. Anis had simply planned to leave the gift after explaining, but Achilles and Emiya had forced her to take a seat at the table. Apparently, she had a responsibility to see it through to the end.     The cake sat at the center of the table- a Rosca de Reyes, a delicious pastry in the shape of a round loop topped with concha sugar in vanilla, chocolate and strawberry. There were also some fruits as well, but only on half of the cake since Anis didn’t care for them.

The main gift though was the act of cutting the cake, Anis explained. “See, this is technically a celebration cake that’s eaten either on christmas, or on the actual feast day in January,” Anis explained as she passed the knife to Vy on the opposite side of the table.

“Let me get that for you,” Robin said as he started to reach out for the knife only to have Anis give him the look she usually gave those who started deviating from the rules in board games.

“The main thing is cutting it, Robin, so she needs to choose what part she wants and cut it herself,” Anis explained, tapping the cake. “It’s not just a cake you know, it’s a game.”

Vy tilted her head and squinted at the cake. “A… game? Like, with rules?” 

“Not that kind of game,” Anis chuckled as she waited for Vy to grip the knife. “See, it’s about making choices and seeing if you get lucky.” Vy still looked a bit confused, but eventually started cutting into the Rosca, the rich smell leaking out with each cut.

Crshh!!

“W-what was that?!” Vy pulled the knife out and looked inside the cut. “Is there food inside too? But it was so hard?”

“Got one already?” Anis asked, a bit surprised at the game starting off so quickly. “I tried to mix up the placement, but with your good fortune it makes sense you’d hit it off on your first try. Make your next cut for now, okay? But only cut as much as you can eat.”

    So Vy, still a bit confused, cut again, and hit something she couldn’t cut again. The look on her face though was more of curiosity and interest though, which helped relax Anis a bit. She held out a small spatula and Robin took it to lift her piece out, pulling a bit hard to separate the piece, revealing-

“What the? Is that?” Robin asked, not entirely sure of what had just happened.The other servants were all mostly curious as well, leaning forward to see. 

A small blue bird’s head poked out from the left side of the slice, the rest of its body supposedly buried inside. On the right side though, was a small tile with a flower motif that fell onto the plate with a small clink.     Vy picked it up and looked it over. The small white ceramic tile was two sided- a lily on one side and a lotus on the other.

“Two prizes so far Vy! Congrats!” Anis clapped, excited to see the reactions of surprise. “The game is meant to be that each person has a chance to find a prize and get good luck! I kinda adjusted it though and just made plenty of small prizes so every one of y'all could get something. So please, go ahead and enjoy it.”

Vy and the other servants started to get excited and began to cut their own slices to find prizes. A large variety of small figures and decorated tiles came out- a miniature crystal horse, a golden chariot, a lion cub, a golden ram, even a miniature Fou! The cake wasa soon gone and the figures were gathered in front of the empty plates, with Vy enjoying the rising atmosphere.

She deserves it honestly. She’s been working hard to take care of so many people. I just gotta give back something. Anis knew how late Vy stayed up at times- both working and because of stress. She also knew from how Fujino treated her that there were obviously more details about her past that shouldn’t be approached. But the unconditional love her servants had for her… Honestly, it made her a bit jealous. But that was fine. She had her own servants she cared for and could rely on. And a fellow master who she could always count on to hear a lovely tune sung or performed. A wonderful flower that bloomed once in the ice and now again in the sea. 

Thank you for being born Vy. I’m glad to have been able to meet you. And more so that you could consider me a friend. May you overcome all your hardships, and keep  your kindness forever.

[gaygryffindorgal]

HPHM character profile

Identity

Name: Verna Aelia Malinda

Gender: cis female

Age: Depends on the timeline

Birth Date: December 15th, 1972 (Sagittarius)

Species: Human witch

Blood Status: Half-blood but thought to be pureblood by the Wizarding community.

Sexuality: Lesbian

Alignment: Chaotic good

Ethnicity: Mixed (black mother, mixed father)

Nationality: British

Residence: The Malinda Manor, somewhere in the English countryside

Myer Briggs Personality Type: The Protagonist (ENFJ)

The Mage

1st Wand: Hornbeam, 11 inches, dragon heartstring, unyielding

2nd Wand: Ebony, 11 ¼ inches, dragon heartstring, unyielding

Animagus: Calico cat

Misc Magical Abilities: -

Boggart Form: Evil!Jacob turning against her.

Riddikulus Form: Evil!Jacob transforms into a tiny, angry kitten.

Amortentia: (What do they smell like?)

Fleetwood's High-Finish Broom Handle Polish

Caramel apples

The orchard behind her childhood home

Amortentia: (What do they smell?)

Nailpolish

Old books

Coffee

Patronus: Calico cat (same as animagus form)

Patronus Memory: A summer day at the Malinda manor when Verna was young, Jacob is teaching her to fly while her parents watch from the sidelines, happy and carefree.

Mirror of Erised: Her family back together again, everyone is safe and content.

Specialized/Favourite Spells: Depulso (the banishing charm), Incendio (the fire-making spell)

Appearance

(I don’t really 100% vibe with her in-game appearence since the hair selection for natural hair is not the best but I make do.)

Height: 5′10 (178cm)

Weight: like normal weight for an athletic girl that tall ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Physique: Athletic

Eye Colour: Blue

Hair Colour: Black

Skin Tone: Brown with warm undertones

Body Modifications: Earrings, nose ring (6th year onwards), a few tattoos as an adult

Scarring: -

Inventory: Wand, Merula’s gift necklace (5th year onwards), some cat treats for Osborn, random old homework and other pieces of parchment discarded at the bottom of her bag at all times, a bag of apple rings (her favourite sweets).

Fashion:

It’s 1984-1991 and I want jam city to let it show in their quest reward items!!!

Allegiances 

Hogwarts House: Gryffindor

Ilvermorny House: I don’t really vibe with Ilvermony so I have no idea xD

Affiliations/Organizations: Gryffindor house. Gryffindor quidditch team, Malinda family, Circle of Khanna, The Order of Phoenix

Professions: Worked as a Defence Against Dark Arts substitute teacher for a year shortly after Hogwarts, trained to be an auror for a while but dropped out due to disagreements with Ministry policy

Hogwarts Information

Class Proficiencies:

Astronomy: A

Charms: O

DADA: O

Herbology: A

History of Magic: P

Potions: A

Transfiguration: E

Electives:

Care of Magical Creatures: E

Muggle Studies: E

Quidditch:

Verna is the chaser of her house’s quidditch team for most of her Hogwarts career.

Extra-Curricular: Duelling club, Dragon club

Favourite Professors: Minerva McConagall

Least Favourite Professors: Severus Snape, Patricia Rakepick

Relationships

Brother: Jacob Aurelius Malinda

Growing up, Jacob was Verna’s hero. He is five years older than Verna but nevertheless they spent a great deal of time together as children, Jacob often babysitting his sister. Although he was never as much into Quidditch as Verna, he would spend hours teaching her to fly and even take her to watch matches a few years before his disappearance.

Although otherwise short-tempered and rash, Jacob had endless amounts of patience for Verna. With very absent parents, Jacob all but raised Verna from a young age and Verna trusted him to look after her more than their parents, which is why it was shocking to her when he disappeared without a word.

Father: Mervyn Malinda

The sole heir to the Malinda estate, Mervyn is an important character within the Wizard society. However, what the general public doesn’t know, is that he is, in fact, an illegitimate child with a muggle mother. This has been kept secret by his grandmother, father, and step-mother throughout his whole life. The only other person to know the truth since his birthmother’s passing is Juniper, his wife.

Mervyn works as the Head of The Department of Magical Transportation. He is not a very affectionate father, but he tries his best to support his children. Mervyn used to be a Gryffindor.

Mother: Juniper Malinda, née Raeburn

A prominent witch from the pureblood Raeburn family, Juniper married Mervyn Malinda out of love. She is a little eccentric and spends a lot of time working on her potions. For a time, the Malindas had a relatively peaceful life with their two children, up until Jacob went missing. After that, Juniper and Mervyn grew distant and started to argue a lot.

Juniper works as a potioneer and values learning, diligence, and holding onto what you believe. She used to be a Ravenclaw.

Love Interest: Merula Snyde

Verna and Merula start out as rivals but due to having to work together during their search for the cursed vaults, they are forced to spend time together. Both start to develop a crush on the other but are in complete and utter denial about it. Verna is the one to realize her feelings first, and she starts to antagonize Merula just to have tension-filled moments with her, which is a completely normal and rational approach to letting your crush know you like them.

Merula and Verna date in school and a while after it but eventually break up in the turmoils of the war. Depending on the version, they might end up together later on though.

(also, as a sidenote, i headcanon merula as like, really short so this dynamic is so much fun when verna is TALL)

Best Friend: Charlie Weasley

They both like Quidditch and are complete dorks. Worst pair of prefects Gryffindor has ever seen, totally incompetent at their job.

(Is this me projecting my love for Charlie into my OC? Absolutely yes and I have no regrets.)

Rivals: Merula Snyde, Patricia Rakepick

Enemy: Voldemort, R

Dormmates: Rowan Khanna, Skye Parkin, Eloise Montague, and  Yasmin Wakefield (the last two are my ocs just to fill the dorm for my fic but these spots are up for grabs if anyone wants to be dormmates!)

Pets: A black cat called Osborn

Closest Canon Friends: Charlie Weasley, Rowan Khanna, Ben Copper

Closest MC Friends:

Farrow Raeburn @threeon1match​

Verna’s cousin from her mother’s side of the family. He is a year younger than Verna and in Slytherin. They are nevertheless close, and Farrow has a huuuge crush on Verna’s cool, dragon-loving friend Charlie.

Background/History

Pre Hogwarts: 

Verna had a wealthy childhood in the countryside at the Malinda manor. She had a close friendship with her older brother who taught her to fly her first broom. Verna had a keen interest in learning spells even at a young age, and her parents would often find her using magic before she was allowed to (often with disastrous consequences). The year Verna was meant to start her studies at Hogwarts, her brother went missing and her mother became very distant, while her father acted as if nothing was wrong. Verna became determined to find and rescue her brother.

Hogwarts Years:

If I would get around to publishing my fic maybe you guys would find out!! But the basic skeleton of the storyline follows the game’s events, just modified to suit a different medium and sans all the dumb stuff!!

Order of the Phoenix / 2nd Wizarding War:

Verna works as a substitute teacher in Hogwarts for a year, after which she trains to become an auror. However, she doesn’t like the way things are run at the Ministry, so she quits and moves home to the Manor for a while, trying to figure out what to do with her life. Before she can come to any conclusions though, the Second Wizarding War starts to pick up speed and the secrets her family has kept all these years transform from dangerous to fatal. Verna is recruited into the Order of the Phoenix by her old friend Bill Weasley.

Verna reunites with many of her old friends from school while working in the Order. Her father is killed during the war and her relationship with her mother goes through a lot of turmoil.

Her ultimate fate is not set in stone and in some versions she dies during the war and in others she makes it.

Post-War:

Depends on whether she survives or not. If Verna lives, she will eventually find her path to a teaching position at Hogwarts OR a curse-breaking job with the (much-changed) Ministry.

She also reconciles with her ex Merula, and the two of them get together.

Personality

Positive attributes: caring, brave, selfless, confident, passionate, protective, resourceful. Negative attributes: impatient, impulsive, stubborn, cocky, reckless, competitive, short-tempered.

if you made it this far, wow! congrats! thank you!!!! i love you forever!!!

[thethreemages]

W O O, so I'm back a bit from the art-grave to finally upload this piece I had completed a lil while ago... the pic in question being some slight redesign/touchups for two of my central side characters of TTM, Noira and Raider Crane~ 💙 Just to keep things a lil fresh and reflecting a bit better of their current character portrayals, so I hope you all enjoy! ^^

More info about both characters can be found below (and here on DA too)~

-Noira Crane (age 16) is Raider's younger sister, Princess Zia's best friend and currently enrolled at St. Ravilda's Mage Academy. A generally stoic and poised young lady with a rather sharp tongue than many would expect... often expressed through well-placed snark at those trying to interrupt her and Zia's "fun" (aka: sneaking around and setting up pranks around the school). When she's not busy hanging with Zia and keeping up their rather limited cheer squad these days, Noira could often be seen competing heavily for maintaining her place up above the top ranked students (of which a certain white-haired prince keeps trying to secure that spot for himself). Underneath her "well-to-do" exterior, however... lies a deep-down insecure girl who often feels pressured to bottle up her feelings, especially with the amount of pressure her parents (Lachlan & Vinia) put on both her and her brother Raider growing up. Combined with the strain put on from Raider's falling out with their parents a few years back... it's left Noira rather scared to delve too much into her own natural Water Mage abilities for fear she can't measure up (even with her folks trying their best to "dial back" for her sake, since she's their only remaining child living with them now). The few things in life that can truly bring a sense of peace and smiles to her face are Zia's company, the success of beating her rivals, and the never-ending bond she and Raider share between eachother... no matter the distance, no matter what.  (Fun Facts about Noira): -She's usually never seen walking around without her beloved dog companion, "Misty Belle" (courtesy to my pal @littlechaoticwitch for helping to come up with the name :3 ). The fluffy pup given to her as a gift from her folks a few years back, Misty is quite a sweet lil lady for most who are allowed to be near her. Always eager to follow her mistress around faithfully, snuggling and goofing around the room when left idle, and occasionally chewing at the ankles of those who try to mess with Noira (like, again, a certain white-paired prince who never ceases to push his luck lol).  -She was named after one of the earlier Crane family ancestors, "Noira the Victress". Said to have been quite a powerful blood pirate, the present-day Noira Crane has... always been a bit unsure of how to feel about her namesake, despite her father and some other distant relatives seeming rather proud of it. She's still a lil curious to try and research more about her ancestor though, given how popular she was as a subject for numerous campfire stories.  -Noira has been diagnosed as nearsighted from the time she was in elementary school, and thus is never seen without her favorite pair of horn-rimmed glasses (an aesthetic picked up from her favorite aunt, Freya).  -While her parents have officially stated for Noira to be the heir to their Crane Corp Industries business, Noira is still conflicted in herself of what she wants to do in life by the time she graduates. Whether it'd be to try out being a traveling Mage, or join more of Zia's royal court down in Asteria... its hard for her to decide atm.  -Being born a rather tiny and frail baby, Noira was always watched like a hawk by the family-hired medical professionals to keep her safe and protected. She's required to carry a couple EpiPens with her on the day-to-day with how many allergies she has, and Zia always tries to remember to keep a nice lil bag of snacks with her too in case her friend's blood sugar dips too low (as does Raider when he and Noira get to hang out on their own).  ============= -Raider Crane (age 21) is Noira's older brother, one of Kain's old school friends and currently making it big as an extreme stunt performer/traveling Electric mage. A bright, cheerful and fun-loving young man who lives to make others smile... whether it'd be for his own friend group or the crowds of audiences who clamor to come see his shows. Yet even with so much going well for him now... it wasn't always the easiest for him growing up before. Living under the roof of his folks who

always kept a tight grip

on him being "the best" (especially by his father), and even facing it worse with some bullying by Kaz's crew at school... it left Raider pretty timid and reclusive for the longest time. Only once others like Kain, Lyra, Briar and a few others taking the time to approach him did his true loveable goofball nature started to sprout for good... but at the same time, something just felt "missing" within Raider that didn't really sit right with him. Knowing how much of a rut he'd be bound to stay in if he kept up things how they were now... he decided by his last few years of Ravilda's to "change" himself for the better. From getting a new "bolder" punk look, working out and bulking over the summer, and taking some social sessions with fellow popular girl Dyani to gain some confidence in himself... Raider returned to the halls of the academy with a brighter, more-outgoing outlook on life now. He started gaining popularity left and right, taught Kaz's crew a thing or two when they tried one last chance to mess with him, and by graduation he was already on his way to make it big after getting signed on by an aspiring tv crew. All was going fine for once... yet back at home, things escalated between his parents (who still didn't seem understanding of Raider's personal dreams over their family business) to where Raider just... couldn't take it anymore. Many words were exchanged that night that prompted the young man to up and leave the family home for good... and never turning back except to now and then check up on his baby sister Noira. As the few years passed up until now, things are still going good for Raider in terms of his work and bond with Noira... though things remain relatively strained and awkward in regards to him and his parents. Whether things will ever truly improve or not with them is unclear as of now... but for the time being, Raider is at least content with himself on being able to finally shape his life the way it should be; fun, free, and fulfilling in its own way~.  (Fun Facts about Raider): -Back at his own personal trailer, Raider has a trio of cats he adopted awhile back named "Sprocket", "Buzz", and "Zipps". Having always been a strong cat person since he was a boy (but never getting the chance to own one growing up, given his mom's allergy to them), it was a big dream of Raider's to get his own feline companion by the time he moved out of the house. He went to the shelter to find three kitten siblings who were tossed aside and overlooked among some other animals... and being the big sweetie as he was, Raider was all too eager to scoop them up to adopt them all together. They're quite a funny bunch who tend to get into some trouble if left unsupervised, but are very much loyal to Raider either way with how often they'll form some "snuggle piles" with him once he's off-of-work.  -Raider gained his name from his paternal great-grandfather, Raider "The Swiftest" Crane. Originally was going to be named "Odin" (after Lachlan's own father, as was the old man's request many years ago)... but due to a falling out between the two not long before his son's birth, Lachlan decided against that and gave his boy "an even prouder name" to look up to instead. As for the present-day Raider himself, he's always been curious to know more about his great-grandfather given some accounts about him being a "commander of the skies" (via-riding dragons).  -From birth, Raider has carried an eye condition known as "Anisocoria"... in which one of his pupils is permanently smaller than the other eye and thus leaving him with some partially-blurred vision. For certain shows of his that take place in some heavy-weather conditions, Raider is required to wear some specialized goggles to help him see through his performance.  -His current neon/cyan blue hair isn't his natural haircolor, as Raider was actually born with darker/blackish-blue hair instead. Used to grow it out pretty shaggy and long up until his teens (in where he often hid his face behind his locks at times when he was down on himself)... but by the time his last

few highschool years rolled around, he cut most of it off and styled it to the look its at now as a nice change of pace. Got quite a few compliments on it's initial debut, so Raider has long since kept it around as his own lil "brand".  -As most of his friends have all long since went their separate ways after Ravilda's, Raider is the main one who likes to keep arranging for them to meet up on the few downtimes they're able to take off from their schedules. Often likes to greet any of his buddies with the biggest, crushing hugs imaginable (being lowkey touch-starved as he is)... and while not always the most logical thinker in terms of planning, he's the main heart to keep the group afloat in times they start bickering or feeling lost with one another.

[seeminglyseph]

little bit of a redraw/redesign thing. I wanna shade it but also I spent multiple hours zoned out drawing her hair. I like feel super cringe showing the original but like it’s clear I used no reference, was more interested in silhouette than pose dynamics (I’m even being generous and cropping it, my ability to know what’s important to a picture is non existent) and also learned exactly how bad it looks to shade with grey. I did not use a reference and did not have the time or discipline to do the details I’m managing now...

I have this group of OCs I keep meaning to write... something about. I’ve been playing around with designs for a while (and not been very great at it, honestly looking at the old designs. They’re either really really bland or my concept of design and anatomy... can we just say I’m improving? That was meant to be lipstick but it was a bad choice and I definitely see it. I’ve also experimented with makeup in drawings. I don’t know how to mix it with the cel shading. I tend to make solid blocks of eye shadow, but it doesn’t work good for the really blush heavy looks. I’m trying to give her that like e girl style heavy blush and highlighter. My idea is that she’s like an anime and games youtuber/streamer? Her name is Tamara and she has two love interests and originally it was a werewolves are a found family story but idk if I have anything remotely werewolfy for them to do. also I don’t wanna draw wolves. I was gonna say ‘I just want werewolf dynamics without having to draw wolves’ but that’s just abo fic. which I am not above, I do love some mate bonding and like packs. it’s about a bunch of queer kids coming together and like doing stuff. when I was designing them I was super into Wet Moon by Sophie Campbell? So I was like thinking of just some just like intense character based journeys. Really original, “hello I would like to write queer found family personal drama?” groundbreaking. I wanna though...

Tamara’s kind of a sheltered baby of her family, she’s trans and her parents got a little hover-parent over it. She started her transition in her childhood so she was on puberty blockers and the whole thing, she was kind of a shut in because she’s shy and a nerd and didn’t get out much until she went to art school and the story starts. So she’s a shy lover of anime and cute things and she wants to be a manga artist and art school is going to be very hard because like why write a story about a thoroughly uneventful time? like I said I have no idea where the werewolf shit would fit in. I gotta admit this started focused entirely on the other main character Jon who has been through many incarnations but when they started being werewolves was like an uwu omega special werewolf mage.. so like there’s a confused disconnect between what was clearly self indulgent spank bait and what was supposed to be a lot of character drama.

which I suppose isn’t to say intense character drama can’t be spank bait but I think probably not with abo dynamics lol. though it would be interesting to play it straight and see if I’m a good enough writer to pull it off (I’m not) I do hears that there’s a market for it in the world of self publishing lol I just wanna write like batshit insane drama like a soap opera. I think part of me still misses the high of being into Teen Wolf, I just want extreme relationship drama and love triangles and found family and one night stands and shit combined with like monster of the week supernatural garbage. “Hi we’re a bunch of queer college age werewolves we solve ghost crimes” I want that. if teen wolf could get away with some prosthetics and eye effects, I can too. please don’t still be reading this I put it under the cut because I knew I was going to end up talking too much. I have to either say nothing about a drawing or explain my whole thought process, there is no in between.

Cutesy e-girl weeb goes to art school and maybe does supernatural adventures but definitely ends up the focal point in a love teetertotter between her best friend since childhood who went to college one year earlier and got like suuuuper attractive and it’s a little weird but she honestly couldn’t love anyone more, and the hot nonbinary fellow art student with like... depths. I know it doesn’t sound like it should be much of a fight but like just because a relationship is new it doesn’t make it less good. and theoretically the hot nonbinary artist is very hot so don’t give up on him yet. Though childhood friend is also theoretically hot. Everyone is theoretically hot because I wanna make them hot.

[darkunlimited]

Tales of Arise Review

So, it’s not a bad game… but it’s not a great game either.

I had to think long and hard on how to write out my grievances with this particular title in the ‘Tales Of’ series (I’m starting to think I haven’t throughly enjoyed a title since Xillia 2, although I did like Berseria quite a bit). I’ve decided a list format was the most efficient.

Things I liked:

The world, characters, combos, and mystic artes are all very good looking (personal aesthetics aside)

Camping skits (These were nice because early on it was one of the only ways to have characters sit down and connect with each other.)

Hootle

Things I didn’t like but didn’t ‘hate’:

The absolute insistence on coupling all the characters. I didn’t like the lack of subtlety and it felt a bit shoehorned in as well. Yes, there are three heteronormative couples in a world where almost everyone is a slave and could die at any moment based on the whims of their evil overlords. Oh, look, an attractive Renan. (This kind of fits in with my rant about narrative later, mainly in how it feels shoved down the player's throat despite the fact that earlier titles have not needed to do this. )

Shionne goes from Tsun to Waifu before the second act, heavily lampshaded from the beginning, but gets blatant, by the end when you obtain wedding dress armor in the final dungeon and a bouquet gun you obtain in a subquest. Like, we get it, the two mains are going to hook up, it was kind of obvious with that whole no pain/causes pain dynamic they started off with. I honestly missed her Tsun tendencies, it helped balance out Alphen's 'good guy' personality.

Alphen’s mask coming off. Actually, I did kind of hate this, because he went from having a unique look to becoming a white-haired bishonen protag with no eyebrows (they are stupid light eyebrows that are too thin and hard to see). He looked awkward and I just wish they let me have the option of putting the mask on for aesthetic purposes, but no, once it's gone, it’s gone. Upon playing New Game + I've learned that other than in cut scenes, the helmet will stay off and it wrecks game immersion.

Things that made me go “Why?”:

The narrative. The constant repetition of what needs to be done and 'why we must continue our fight' became very old, very fast. It was somewhat tolerable in the first half of the game because there were still “mysteries” to resolve, but it became completely unbearable in the second. (Why yes, I do understand the motivations of the main cast, can I move on from your twenty-minute cut-scene explanation followed by multiple character skits and other added cut scenes five minutes later that reiterate the exact. same. information? No? Well, fuck you game.)

The compilation of the game. There were many issues here. In addition to the narrative shoving the ‘plot’ into the latter half of the game and beating me with repetition, there were the following problems:

Many character stories and fun skits/side quests suffered from the game’s arrangement. Many were relegated to the latter half of the game which did not make sense. A good portion of these could have easily been added to the first half (maybe to be completed in the second with some characters) and would have offered some levity during the story (Law’s backstory regarding his part in his father’s death really needed this, possibly more than anyone else.).

Additionally, the levels of the enemy seemed far higher than they had any reason to be for character quests to be completed. (I ended up doing all of this after I had opened up the final dungeon and the fact that these were the starts of character quests is what really ticked me off.)

The characters. I realize this may not be a popular opinion, but my issue with the characters had more to do with the game’s uneven portrayal of their character stories than the characters themselves. This was an issue in Zesteria as well (I did not like Rose because she became a BAMF! way too fast and took over Mikleo’s role as the deuteragonist midway through.) In Arise, this happens with Dohalim, particularly in the second half. There were points where I outright wondered if they were switching protagonists because his character arc tied so closely into the plot. Mind you, he is a likable character, but I should never forget who my main characters are. Alphen and Shionne became so poorly characterized within their tropes that I legitimately had moments I forgot they existed.

Lip Sync during skits. I think this could have been resolved easily if mouths either didn’t move at all during skits or if they had bothered to lip-sync to both English and Japanese VA’s. This also became problematic during camping but slightly easier to ignore.

Directional attack controls. I liked having the option of which way to swing my main weapon from the past games. This may seem a minor thing but it really threw me off when dealing with flying enemies.

Things I wish I could have seen (Fanfic ideas, maybe?):

Total ‘what if’ scenario, but it would have been interesting to see Rinwell used as a tool to fight off Renan’s before she joins the party. They do dive lightly into the possibilities of Dahnan oppressors and this would have been a good way to introduce that idea early on. Especially if there was a domain Renan’s could not take over.

Another thought is having Renan’s = old-timey Dahnan mages. If they were being hunted centuries ago, it would make a lot of sense to have them willingly go with the Helganquil to later get revenge on the Dahnan populace. Even if these mages/turned Renan’s forgot the why’s, learning that info from the Helganquil would have made for an interesting way to have Rinwell face her racism. It’s all but alluded to in the game, however, it seems some engineering on behalf of the Helganquil was involved in canon.

Law having more remorse over the part he played in his father’s death. Really felt like he shrugged it off too quickly. I think I would have liked a larger backlash to occur because of his actions.

Alphen’s backstory and memory being triggered over time instead of in one very long and kind of disappointing go. It would have been more compelling to see him flashback and question his own motives earlier on.

Making him Renan with the mask suppressing his glowy-eyes also would have been interesting since he would side w/the Dahnan’s after his experiences as a slave.

Shionne either sticking to being a Tsun (zapping people on purpose more), or confessing her motivations and her fears much earlier. It was really dragged out. Hated it. Also, she became very boring in the second half.

An optional unhappy ending. Honestly, everything was too nicely wrapped up. It felt unreal.

Anyways, that’s it, that’s the list. I think if I wasn’t a Tales Of veteran I may have enjoyed this game more (although the way they beat me over with the narrative still would have killed a good 70% of the enjoyment for me). I didn’t outright hate the game as it’s fun to play, but if I’d known more about how pedantic the narrative would become, I probably would have waited instead of buying on day one.

[jcmorrigan]

blakeworther- I personally I love your hc’s so much- any au’s or anything ya got for them? I really wanna know more about what goes on.

This was once again a BAD QUESTION TO ASK

Aside from the Skyward Sword AU, which I never went back to again, there’s only one AU that I like for Blakeworther, which is the AU that I like for everything ever. I’m not even sure I consider it a true AU, even though it absolutely is. So, okay, I have this thing called the WHAM ARMY, which is a massive crossover group of my favorite villains (led by the eight who make up the acronym but this ain’t about them). Obviously, because Victor, Vincent, and Albert are all pretty firmly villains (even if they lean “those weird morally bereft people we end up being friends with somehow”), I want them to join the WHAM ARMY. So my thoughts for them here are pretty much how they’d react in a multicrossover setting, which of my other villain loves they’d get along with, and what the intro arc is for them. Keep in mind I haven’t gotten here in the fanfic yet, so some of this could change in practice, but here are my plans right now.

Cringe ahead.

-They aren’t the originals. I want to make something that doesn’t trip over canon’s current trajectory, even though I don’t know exactly where canon is going, so what happens is that Vexen (Kingdom Hearts) is going to rebuild the three of them as replicas, since he can easily find memory cores for Victor and Vincent in Myers’ storage rooms and there’s just going to be an Albert core there for no reason.

-Vexen then pulls some Chain of Memories magic and restricts the memories they have access to. They will only remember things we have literally seen in VTSOM/TWDAK, and then I can have him release more of their memory banks to them as we get more chapters. (Even if they all three get redemption arcs, my replica versions can stay little shits!)

-He DOES NOT tell them that they’re not the originals! For all they know, they fell asleep at the last day they remember and woke up here. But they figure it out on their own despite his best efforts. They still want to get their memories back anyway so they know what the people they were replicated from were like and have a framework to build their personalities from.

-Yes, of course they’re cyborgs! Cyborg replicas. Since they’re operating by KH rules, they prooooobably don’t need to eat human meat? But also I like when villains do fucked-up things and I have jokes about the others packaging “cyborg chow” to embarrass them so maybe they still do engage in a little cannibalism, as a treat

-Each was engineered with a different specialty. Vincent’s is raw physical strength; he can walk into a gunfight without even needing a weapon and still have a chance of winning. Victor’s arms have been upgraded to hold a variety of cannons; he’s the team sniper. Albert is the team “mage”; he can conjure Dream Eaters. In this AU, TWDAK Dream Eaters and KH Dream Eaters are basically the same thing. Albert has mastered a strange art of being able to draw Dream Pieces out of the Realm of Sleep and implant them in physical forms of creatures in the waking world, creating his army. They look like they do because he hates the pastel aesthetic of KH Dream Eaters and redesigned his personal ones to look more fitting with his aesthetic. He’s also a speedster.

-The intro mission involves Vexen attempting to track down a newly-rebuilt Xion (this AU is divergent from KHIII) in Radiant Garden so he can bring her back under his control with some brainwashing. I’m also bringing in the Tsviets as past experiments of Vexen’s, so he’s basically pitting his newer models of experiment against his old ones.

-The party he already has built by this point is going to be Demyx, Simon Laurent (Infinity Train), Tsumugi Shirogane (DanganRonpa), skekSil (The Dark Crystal), and a couple other people I haven’t hinted at instory yet and don’t quite want to spoil. But Simon, Tsumugi, and skekSil will all also be Vexen’s creations - Simon and skekSil are replicas and Tsumugi is an android.

-Vincent, Victor, and Albert wake up for the first time, and while Vincent and Victor remember each other as friends, they’re just like “And why is our nemesis from RMU also here?”

-Albert probably fights with Vincent for dominance of the trio and I’m not sure which one of them is the trio leader at this point.

-I moved Nine Bean Hill from World of Final Fantasy to Radiant Garden because Radiant Garden needs a coffee shop and first of all, thanks to Hunger Games Simulator fuckery, my friends and I have an in-joke about Vincent Edgeworth having an eternal grudge against Dunkacino, so I’m going to use the coffee shop to reference this somehow without having to put actual Corporate Brainwashed Al Pacino in this ‘verse

-But also I like to think Lann and Reynn play a lot of bubblegum pop, so catch Victor and Albert dancing to the PA like idiots and then getting Demyx, skekSil, and Simon in on it while Vincent and Vexen are like “Oh God why are these our friends”

-(There are reasons this particular Demyx goes by a different name instory and it’s weirding me out to type “Demyx” for this post)

-Without spoiling too much of the arc, there IS a part where Blakeworther beats up the Tsviets, there IS a part where they battle the Anima summon from FFX and win, and there IS a part where despite all of this, Xion kicks their asses across the city

-They go through this mission seeing each other as partners and friends (though Vincent and Albert are reluctant to use the “friend” word at first), but after they all get back to base, they’re just...suddenly overwhelmed with the fact that they’re strangers in a strange land missing half their memories.

-They room together, and they end up crawling into the same bed for solidarity reasons. This is actually where I first envisioned the “rough day” sleeping position - Vincent and Victor are chest-to-chest, then Albert just snuggles in behind Victor and the other two are like “Okay, we’re gonna just let this happen” and Vincent and Albert touch at one tangent point where their arms cross.

-The days might get a little rougher after they realize they aren’t even the originals.

-Eventually they assimilate into the chaos house with no problem.

-Vincent tends to hang out with the party poopers of the house. Especially Mozenrath (Aladdin: The Animated Series). (P.S. If there are any VTSOM fans out there who also know the 90s Aladdin TV series...I CAN’T be the only one who noticed the surface similarities here, right?)

-Victor Blake and Roman Torchwick (RWBY). Oh, God, this is the hell duo. They’re party animals who love to dance and drink and dance drunk. It was not a good idea to let these two redheads meet.

-Albert and Neopolitan (RWBY)! They both love stabbing people and Victorian button boots! I actually kinda have this idea that they would pick up more fucked-up serial killer types to hang out with them - Mad Madam Mim (The Sword in the Stone) is their patron despite being a much tamer example, but Albert also decides he really likes Scaramouche (Samurai Jack), Junko Enoshima (DanganRonpa), and Jerome Valeska (Gotham).

-For a real deep cut, Albert also opens up a joint Dream Therapy office with Dr. Cheshire Broach (Crypt TV). It’s either called “Krueger & Broach” or “Broach & Krueger” depending on how long it takes either to notice that the other moved his name to the front of the sign again. You should ABSOLUTELY not trust either of these men to give you legitimate therapy (though if you’re good friends with them, they can and will use their dreamon powers to help you best your nightmares in a bloody fashion).

-Actually this ‘verse is the entire reason I thought of them doing drag karaoke to “United We Stand” by Amberian Dawn because the WHAM ARMY is all about karaoke, drag, and any combination of the two

-I haven’t decided yet if their romance will be a slow burn or a faster affair. I’m expecting them to tell me as I write out the fic. But I think in a lot of respects, it’s going to be more of a friends-to-lovers story than their original forms had. The three of them are forced to become an elite cyborg warrior unit created by the same mad scientist, they had a big bonding mission together where they became ride or die (whether or not they want to admit it), and eventually...we can start revealing that they’re CATCHING FEELINGS.

-The WHAM ARMY has many, many power couples and ships of various numbers of people but Blakeworther ends up becoming yet another POWER THROUPLE around base, and it’s understood that messing with one of them will earn the wrath of the other two

-They go on to assist in many, many missions with the purpose of taking over various worlds and kingdoms and just fucking them up

-Vincent Edgeworth will kill the TBTC equivalent of Dunkacino

You have to understand that TBTC is my hyperfixation to end all hyperfixations. Every piece of fiction I touch ends up related to it in some way. At some point the majority of how I interact with Blakeworther is going to be through this AU. I’m just a sucker for crossovers and villains having a place to be bros and party.