#(c. // mikhael. )

[moviesludge]

this carousel is pretty fucked up, huh?

[bluejay-makes]

Elf dilf thursday

[ormir]

@blightedmikhael location: on the road to Nornwatch, some weeks ago

Emerging from the birthing canals of the mountains was hardly the deliverance Iskaldrik’s people had hoped for. The light they’d yearned for was blinding and flesh-scalding as it reflected off the hardened snow. The air here formed in heavy, violent bursts that split lips and knuckles. The land stretched on into an unending wasteland rarely punctuated by trees or the odd jut of volcanic rock. The caravans shambled through the Stygian badlands, feet falling heavier and stomachs growing louder with every wagon wheel’s rotation.

The night was lethally cold, so camp was made early before the sun could slip the leash on them. A cluster of camp fires spit high in the air, their smoke channels buffered by the shiplike crag the Witchers had found refuge in. The interim king squirmed in its shadow. At least on the plains we’d be able to see danger coming. Worries soon to be surrendered to exhaustion. Ormir attempted to warm himself by a fire, fighting to undo the cold, even as it gorged on the remaining sensation in his extremities. The mead, what little they had left of it, was a necessary balm for the pain. He drank deep, and lowered his cup to find that a flickering figure had manifested on the other side of the flames. Beneath its layers, light struck upon armor of a make Ormir did not recognize.

Alarms immediately bellowed between his ears. An assassin? After a hair of thought, he shrugged the foolish notion off. Every second before the badlands would have provided an easier mark. He searched for the Guild’s heron brand on the stranger’s blade, but stopped short as he didn’t find a weapon to search on. An odd, conspicuous kind of mercenary?

The Raven-feeder closed the distance to investigate further. His fingers brushed the reassurance of his hatchets nestled at either hip. “You’re a long way from home, are you not?” Ormir started, congenially. Just another lost soul sharing purgatory. “You must have earned the wrath of a wicked god to have been sucked into all this.”

[tony-andonuts]

I mustve blacked out while watching the HGTV episode of Family Guy bc I've been getting auditory hallucinations of the Five Front Doors jingle lately

[stigmvtas]

🌻 a worried text. mikhael 💀 an urgent text. lydia

🌻 a worried text. CONTACT: Archibald Jr. mikhael [8:42pm]: you're so fucking stupid you know that?? mikhael [8:43pm]: pick up your fucking phone mikhael [8:44pm]: did you block me?? mikhael [8:45pm]: PICK UP THE PHONE 💀 an urgent text. CONTACT: zekai or whtvr unknown number [2:11am]: JULES DID NOTHING WRONG!! unknown number [2:11am]: IF U DO NOT ABSOLVE HER OF WHATEVER SINS U THINK SHE'S DONE U WILL BEGIN COUGHING IN SEVEN DAYS!! unknown number [2:12am]: MARK MY WORDS

[ormir]

“Not bad,” Ormir parroted, letting his hollow laughter trail off into silence. By a similar metric, a forest fire chewing its way over the horizon was ‘not bad.’ Hearing the first hacking cough in a crowded and ill-kempt camp was ‘not bad.’ A wolf’s howl carried in the deep wood was ‘not bad.’ As long as the real threat loomed at a measurable distance, it wasn’t bad. Not yet. “So long as we don’t overstay our welcome. I intend to be far, far down the road before the moon swells over this place.” Ormir sensed new tension in the air, closer than the wolves that circled them. Lysara’s Queen installed her trust in a she-wolf stalking the edge of the wood, yet thought of the Iskarans as being savage and changeable.

The tension lifted as Ormir watched fear snap into Mikhael’s face, and he knew in a moment that there would be no slinking back behind the curtain. The diplomat’s stomach dropped. As covetously as Ormir maintained his power, sought to be defined by it; to play soldier again had been a pleasant charade. It had been many years since he was allowed to construct a first impression without title preceding him, and he’d savored the other’s company, with or without pretense of shared rank. “I ask you to forgive the pageantry on my part. I didn’t mean to trick you.” Ormir warmed his voice, sinking his shoulders disarmingly. “Only, it’s a rarity to share a decent fucking conversation when everyone’s already made up their mind about you, and I’ve quite enjoyed ours.” He said, not tasting the hypocrisy staining his teeth.

Mikhael’s grip was firm, hardened; A warrior or laborer’s hand. It was a small concession given by the Guildsman, but a reassuring one. It was hard to fake the grip of a man whose life depended on it. Ormir could get no further read on him through the leather. “A strong name.” He said, with a smile bending indecipherably at the edges. The Ankhurian echoed of a time long ago, of memories bathed in the golden light of glory, fulfillment and singular purpose. How he wished for such conviction now.

“Once we reach Eterna, where will you go?” The Iskaran asked, a spark of wonder lilting his voice. For a moment, the King’s grizzled Hand looked as the child who consumed the world through the stories of traders and hunters who passed through the northern woods, bartering for glimpses of the world beyond. “Does Mafareth still call to you?”

Amused surges forth despite himself, and it’s a reminder of how much he had enjoyed their talks. There is far too little he had found himself enjoying over the past few harsh months, but the human’s company had been one of them. Granted, whatever bond that had arisen from between the two of them is tentative, and subject to change with the drop of a hat. Despite their slowly building camaraderie, there is no denying that the likelihood of any deeper bond forming it is unlikely. The secret of Mikhael’s origins weighs too heavily between them for their bond to grow into true camaraderie. After all, Mikhael had already known the other was likely an Iskaran noble, and if he had gotten even a whisper of his status as a cambion, there is no doubt in Mikhael’s mind that the Iskaran would have sent the witchers to deal with him. 

It’s the sad reality of their country, that trust can only be truly built between humans. The other’s clear distaste against the members of the pack that had so kindly welcomed them into their midst despite the tensions between Lysara and Iskaldrik does nothing but further cement the fact. 

Keeping his thoughts hidden behind a bemused expression, Mikhael shrugs as his eyes wander the same way the human’s do, nodding respectfully to whichever guard he sees. He had seen Queen Aurea’s work in the first few weeks after their arrival, and while there is no denying that her predecessor had quite the dangerous reputation, the current Alpha didn’t. But of course, Iskaran’s wouldn’t care about that. 

“Considering the weight the Alpha of Haven holds within Lysara, perhaps it is not bad we were given leave to rest here,” he muses pleasantly as he turns back to look at the Iskaran, not quite disagreeing with the noble but offering just enough of a refutation to remind the other that as much as they enjoyed each others company, Mikhael was still Ankhurian and his people accepted the supernatural in a way the Iskaldrik did not. 

The Iskaran’s name hits Mikhael like a rampaging horse, and all he can do is laugh helplessly as he reaches forward and clasps the hand of the Iskaran King’s Huscarl and the Ravenfeeder. 

“I feel like I should have seen that coming,” he mutters dryly as he offers a firm handshake through his ever present gloves, keeping his expression pleasant and friendly despite his sudden urge to curse and scream at the heavens. Why the fuck does he keep running into the Iskaran royal party? “Well met, Ormir, I am Mikhael of Mafareth.” He says, introducing himself once more and feeling like he is unwillingly digging his own grave.

[thegoetiashifts]

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ " 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝙨𝙚𝙖𝙡… 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐭 . ,,.⋆☾⋆

★ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ mikhael's kinshift log . . . ! ࿐ྂ lvl 19 , infj 2w1 , he / they , taken <3 autistic + c-ptsd + ocd

★ kinlist ! ★ comfort characters !

✮⋆˙ posts will be tagged with ' emoji + kin name ' :> I will mostly post rambles and random thoughts during kinshifts here so as to not take up all the space on my main , moodboards , playlists , selfship/yumeship thoughts and so on and so forth !

✮⋆˙ I'm OK with doubles , just be respectful and decent and there won't be any trouble lol I love interacting w doubles and sourcemates ! pls feel free to send me asks :3

✮⋆˙ If my requests are open , feel free to ask for a moodboard of a specific character and I'll do my best to deliver !

✮⋆˙ I'll keep things mostly sfw , and any nsfw posts will be tagged accordingly and kept under the cut - just don't be surprised if they pop up lolol

★ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ moodboards : to be added !

★ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ playlists : ˢᵒˡᵒᵐᵒⁿ ★ ˡᵉᵛⁱᵃᵗʰᵃⁿ ★ ˡᵘᶜⁱᶠᵉʳ ★ ⁿⁱᶜᵒˡᵃˢ ᵇʳᵒʷⁿ ★ ˢʰᵉʳˡᵒᶜᵏ ʰᵒˡᵐᵉˢ ★ ˢᵉᵇᵃˢᵗⁱᵃⁿ ᵐᵒʳᵃⁿ ★ kuko harai ★ undertaker ★ genkaku azuma ★ dali delico ★ remy labeau ★ boothill ★ takami keigo ★ dean winchester

★ . . . ⇢ ˗ˏˋ tags : ' x goetic answers ' for answers , ' x goetic moodboards ' for moodboards .

graphics by thecutestgrotto !

[thequeendomhq]

Welcome to Taravell!

Amy.

The Stationary ( Luna Darkwood )

Bailey.

The Ego ( Amaia Vespillo )

Beca.

The Patient ( Brynn ) The Smuggler (Arkyn )

C.

The Temptation ( Magnús / Sébastien ) The Princess ( Aytaç Gökhan )

Chloe.

The Barbarian ( Rykard )

Dany

The Path ( Alessia Hart )

Gus.

The Fallen ( "Theon Epialos" Alcides de Contreras )

Ori.

The Hidden ( Valdís ) The Blighted ( Mikhael )

Theo

The Hand ( Ormir )

Payton.

The Shield ( Freydis )

Snare.

The Beginning ( Morgan Page & Tobias )

Zenmichael.

The Azure ( Elokian Liayar ) The Sphere ( Fharzai Salif )

Please review our new member's checklist here and send in your blogs!

You have one week to submit your blog. The skeleton will be reopened if the blog isn't received by next Thursday at 7 p.m. EST.

[spearofdestiny]

Closed starter for @xiudicium​

Destiny paced the hospital lobby, waiting to see where her mom and brother were. When she saw her mother she ran over to her, asking where her brother was and... confusion. And terror, all in one.

“What do you mean he came with me?! He was coming with you!” She snapped, staring at her mother, tears in her eyes. The twelve year old was curious, sure, but how this had happened, she didn’t want to know. She stared, wide-eyed as her mother explained how just after her daughter had said she was leaving, her brother called out to say he’d see her later, and she’d assumed he’d left with her.

“.... Just... You take one direction, I’ll take the other.” She said tearful, rushing off, calling out her brothers name over and over. Bumping into someone she shook her head, tearful. She hadn’t seen him since Halloween, remembering her snapping at him over gossips. “S-sorry I... I can’t find my brother, I didn’t mean to, I...”

[abs0luteb4stard]

WATCHING

[oishirecipe]

Wolfgang goes so hard I wish my parents named me Wolfgang

[the-tharns-speak]

Do you know Brother Mikhail Karkuxor?

I know of him, but haven’t had the chance to meet the man in person. His publications are an excellent projectiles, though. Incredible ballistics. However, that speaks more about hos publisher rather than of Karkurox.

[shiopomu-remade]

In my head people's urls are their last namea

[heavensign-archive]

Not sure if my name is lame or not because it just doesn't like . "Roll off the tounge" like other people's names do . like who remembers something like Mikhael with the way it's pronounced . But also it's my name and that automatically makes it swag

[stigmvtas]

welcome to marina, MIKHAEL FOWLER - VERANO ( cis man, he/him ) ! they are a THIRTY year old who has lived on the island for SIX MONTHS. word on the street is they’re currently living in MARINA HEIGHTS and works as a RESTAURANTEUR / ORCHESTRA MUSICIAN. everyone also says they look a lot like GEORGE MACKAY. what do you think? — JAMES, 24, THEY/THEM, EST.

MENTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE.

profile.

full name: mikhael percival fowler - verano.

birthday: december 25th, 1992.

astrology: capricorn sun, capricorn moon, aries ascending.

sexuality: gay.

currently listening to: psycho killer by talking heads.

last known location: [[[cannot be found]]]

PINTEREST.

brief history.

second eldest born to the fowler clan; a wormed apple to their father's eye. his replica - his prodigy; the doting son chasing father's approval.

grows up thinking that their upbringing is a competition, that the fowler brothers are all just players - and that mikhael has to be the best. has to be better than them all. smarter, stronger - emotions no need to pay heed to, not needed and not wanted.

child abuse; watches his brothers fuck up and reap the consequences, time after time again. the first time - mikhael flinches. the second time - he learns not to flinch anymore. after that, mikhael no longer spares a glance. can't bring himself to.

keeps his head down - his wits sharp. fights constantly with his brothers - but it's only encouraged by their father - tooth for tooth, eye for eye. someone always has to be at the bottom of the pyramid - and it won't be mikhael. it won't.

as long as he adheres to their father - mikhael grows up easy; easily liked, with a quick tongue and a rolling charisma - still more easily hated, hubris always known to be his downfall. he does what's needed of him - top grades, first chair - captain of a team, or two. whatever gets him farther - and he always intends to go all the way.

keeps only one thing for himself - to himself, and that's his relationships. the real ones - the ones that matter; meetings with boys inside their bedrooms, never his own - church parking lot talks inside a car with no a/c, meetings for a club that doesn't exist. brings home girls because that's what's wanted of him, what's expected - but he doesn't love them. he can't - not like that.

when their parents divorce, mikhael follows their father to new york immediately - there's no room in their mother's heart for him, and there's no use in trying; he's too like their father, now, for her to look at him with warmth.

joins the new york youth orchestra as soon as they'll allow him - as soon as his father gives in; the smallest mercy the smallest allowance. always a virtuoso - mikhael works his way up the cello chairs until he hits first - until he's the best he can be, until there's no farther to go.

joins the philharmonic orchestra after that, side by side with business school - does both, even with the constant strain on his boy. even with the constant stress - his father doesn't understand why he's still playing cello. it's just a hobby - something unimportant, something that only served as a hindrance to mikhael's future in his company.

he doesn't want to work for his father - even though he's been trained and trained and trained like a dog, conditioned into an egomaniacal monster - just like their father, from hair to eyes to nose to chin. to muscle, to tissue, to heart. brains wired the same.

ends up taking a difference business route - not in his father's trade, but good enough - acceptable enough, while their father's still kicking, while his business is yet to trade hands. opening restaurants is a pass time, in their father's eyes - mikhael's silly little hobby, almost as silly as the cello he still treasures.

meets miguel in the midst of it all - mikhael's never been a good man, but he tries for miguel. tries true, and earnestly. they're long distance at times - even through their engagement, but mikhael soon moves to marina for him - for their wedding. tells his dad he's opening another restaurant - but not about miguel. never anything about miguel.

and so mikhael's been here for a little bit :)

facts & temperaments.

is a cunt.

is for realsies opening a restaurant in marina, it's just still under wraps as mikhael tries to find balance amidst newlywed life and adjusting to small town life. he takes genuine pride in his work, though. it's one of the few things that bring him genuine joy.

highly critical of others and distrustful. professional complainer. probably genuinely believes that miguel's the only actually kindhearted person on the planet.

would die for miguel but he also has this problem where he can't. shut the fuck up.

always has to have the last word and can't resist getting into a petty argument. he can tell that his presence in his brother's lives is bothersome and it only really fuels him.

bit of an. inflated ego. thinks he's the best, that he's gold silk spun from the hands of midas himself. seems hardy - but is easily dented. pessimistic and a bit gloomy at times, especially if things don't go his way.

probably wouldn't show it but he takes things very personally. knows he shouldn't, after growing up with his father, and his brothers - but he's kind of. sensitive. knows how people view him but can't seem to stop confirming all their worst suspicions about him.

isn't out to his parents still, they don't even know he's married tbh. is kind of just waiting for them to die so that mikhael can feel. at ease in his life.

despite this, knows his brothers wouldn't say shit - they have more dignity and kindness than mikhael does, even with all their separate issues.

petty. plays dirty. isn't a fair person and doesn't try to be. a major shit - talker. will always be around to hear the gossip and is incapable of keeping his mouth shut.

it's all a defensive wall for the most part, to keep others out. miguel was the one who wormed himself in - who made mikhael want to be a better person. he's still working on it - just hopes that miguel has enough patience for him.

has two cats named miss havisham and princess diana n they are their children pretty much.

music is like. one of the few ways that mikhael can calm himself down from a tizzy. it always grounded him, and he seems to be a little... better, afterwards. not as mean.

maybe eventually he'll. learn to be kinder but mikhael still feels stuck in the body of a teenager, sometimes. still angry and still fighting in the only way he knows how - lashing out like he's done so many times before.

i do think any attempt of his to be kind is kind of. awkward. like he's really forcing it. but i do hope he tries, sometimes. to be better. to be kinder.

[drunkenmikhael]

NUTMEG.

First horse, I'll miss him.