#wol-ah

[nekonom26]

To the mystic prince fandom

The 29 July of this years will be the second aniversary of my first mystic prince fanfic and first mystic prince fanfic on AO3.

And i kinda want to celebrate it.

So i was thinking that since we are now a small amy of mystic prince lover we could have a mystic prince week starting the 29/07 and ending the 04/08.

Art, fanfic, edit and any medium you can think of will be allowed and welcomed. The same goes for any ship you can think of.

So..

[ryuucae]

Bleeding heart

[idalenn]

Posing Lillian similarly to the characters that helped to inspire her.

[thevikingwoman]

Meryta Khatin by @exotic-inquiry

Thank you Fey for this gorgeous portrait of Meryta! I love all the details, the background and the gorgeous light. I adore how you drew her freckles and her expression is so perfect!

[lienwyn]

I didn't like the banner for my Black Knight fanfic so I drew a new one. As you do xD

And yes, there is A LOT of symbolism in the composition that connects back to the themes and plot of the fic. Because I'm Deep Like That.

Enjoy! :D

[aethernoise]

this is hungry work

full set (&more) on my priv twitter 🍋🔞

[helianthus21]

fav kdrama ladies compilation

credit scene packs: acj _ edits sxtown wqtermlons Purple Scarlet

[fisherrprince]

again. AGAIN!!! This time everyone worries quite a lot

••

Nothing of note had happened. 

Or at least, Alisaie didn’t think anything of note had or was currently happening, she mostly thought things like “I’m glad I don’t have to deal with whatever this Hancock fellow is talking about now” and “How much Gil would it take to ship this back to Sharlyan?” and “By the Twelve, there is no way dignitaries can talk for this long” and things of the sort.

Until, of course, she notices that her brother is not among the long-chattering crowd currently taking up most of the East Aldenaard Trading Company office, like she thought. In fact, he hasn’t spoken in minutes, which is firstly unusual. He instead grasps her hand to arrest her attention and tugs, eyes straight forward. 

“Alisaie,” Alphinaud says tightly, “We need to go outside.”

“What? Why?”

“Please.”

Alisaie frowns. Her brother does not say “please” to her that way. “Alright. Should I leave the bags here or take them?”

“Leave. Or — i-it doesn’t matter. Either.” 

He keeps a tight hand on his, so copying the notion Alisaie brings the goods she’s procured from the Ruby Bazaar as a useful excuse for why they leave so quickly. She throws a quick “Be right back!” at Tataru, and allows her brother to escape the office and take, instead of leaving the area entirely — which probably rules out an attack or something, seeing as he also didn’t try to get Tataru to come with? Or anyone else — take a sharp right at the stairs and nearly collapse directly on the damp grass underneath the porch and out of sight. 

Alisaie’s ears flatten against her head as a sudden spike of fear hits her right in the chest and sinks there. She drops her bags and darts under the porch to press her hand against his forehead. “Are you alright?! What’s wrong? Alphinaud?”

“Fine! Fine,” he says, righting himself — then leaning against the foundation, trying to find something even slightly comfortable. He pulls his knees in. “Just need— I,” he sucks in a tight breath. 

“Should— should I send for someone?”

Alphinaud shakes his head violently. He’s given up on speaking, wholly focused on taking heavy, short breaths curled up against the rock. Something is wrong, though, not fine, he’s acting like he’s sick or injured or, something, or,

Alisaie wants to call for someone anyways. Ch’ari is not here, off doing errands on completely different continents. Maybe Tataru would know what to do — she’s always been resourceful, and she’d peel away from the conversation in an instant if she told her. Stubbornness is a family trait, he could be hurt. But should she leave him? What if — she almost hits her head on the underside of the porch — what if something happens? She should have kept her linkpearl, Garlean intercession be damned—

Alphinaud grasps at her, vaguely, arm still tight to his side. She abandons her train of thought and darts in next to him, as if they were children under a blanket after lights had gone out, huddling under a porch. 

“Five minutes,” Alphinaud whispers, with no less than all the voice he can muster. 

Alisaie doesn’t like this. “Okay. If you do not recover in five minutes, I’m getting Tataru.”

A tiny nod, and he puts his hands atop his head and becomes a tight ball. Alisaie really doesn’t like this. 

Waiting, that is. Waiting around for something to stop. Or get better. Waiting is for people with no plan, with no solution, and she needs a plan. It is not a good five minutes, listening to her brother wheeze through his teeth as if strangled and trying not to skip seconds on her watch and feeling as if maybe there are ants on this grass (there are none).

But true to his word, as he always is, Alphinaud’s breathing slows, and calms, slowly, and he pulls his head off of his knees and leans backwards to take in the cool night air of Kugane. 

“…Are you alright?” Alisaie asks, once she has studied him for a reaction. 

“Mm-hm.”

“What was that?”

Her brother chances a thin look in her direction, his expression doing a funny jolt between relieved and worried at her own, and then seemingly getting too worked up and looking away again to breathe correctly. She must look like a timid mouse. And it’s only in the shelter of the porch that she admits she feels like one. 

“I’m sorry,” Alphinaud starts. “I didn’t… mean to scare you.”

“You would have scared me less had I known you weren’t dying. …Right? You’re not, right?”

“No, no, I promise. No dying. Just…” He takes breaks to make sure he’s still breathing. “Sick. For a moment.”

“How?”

Alphinaud takes his head off the rocky foundation and begins to fiddle with his gloves. At least this is a sign of normalcy, something that makes Alisaie adjust her own position — she hadn’t realized how tense she was — to listen. 

“I’m… sure there’s another word for it. But Ari calls it memory sickness.”

Alisaie’s eyebrows furrow, but she lets him continue. “He explained… how did he say it. That if something bad happens, sometimes the memory that contains that event — or, an object from the event, or something of that nature, can become tainted. And it can fester, if it isn’t paid attention to, so when the memory resurfaces, it can… You can get sick.”

“From a memory? How?” Then, “…Has something happened?”

Alphinaud shifts uncomfortably. He hasn’t — Alisaie realizes, he has only told her an abridged version of whatever he was up to in Ishgard, whatever explained his drastic shift in personality. It hadn’t bothered her before, quite the opposite actually she was very pleased and a bit smug and a bit proud and a bit worried, because her own shift from flat anger to full purpose was… riddled with events she would rather not recall, but now she’s more than a bit worried. 

“Nothing I am able to discern fully,” he lies. She frowns, and almost chases it, but she can still feel his breathing against the side of her chest, so… she will let it go until she’s certain he’s no longer ill. And if it comes from a memory, further prodding may hurt more than help. She will remember it, though. “What is it like, then?”

His head tilts into his hand. “Ari says for him it is more like he thinks he’s inside it, and he can’t get it to stop. The memory is so strong he feels sensations that are not real. But, um— he’s figured out how to feel the memory hit him. So he knows to leave before it makes him sick and he can recover in private. That is why he disappears with no explanation, at times. For me… I don’t know. I cannot tell what is causing it, nor can I think of any specific memory that has fouled. Mayhap I need to pay more attention. But I just become ill like this, as if I were in battle. And then it passes. Eventually.”

Alisaie buries her own chin in hand, sorting through this. “Does it happen immediately?”

“I don’t think so? It builds. That is probably why I can’t pin down what causes it. It has only occurred twice,” Alphinaud admits, quietly. 

“Well. What happened today? Mayhap you can narrow it down. We’ve been gathering souvenirs and repairs for the past hours,” Alisaie begins, stronger now that there’s something solid to puzzle out. 

“Dinner was par for the course, Ch’ari took the entire teapot for himself yet again and the food was wonderful. Those dignitaries inside were quite dismissive, and rather crowded in there. The Bazaar was busy as well — there was that man who tried to sell you a necklace thinking you were me. He was altogether too handsy and I should have kicked him for it. Should I have kicked him for it?”

“No,” Alphinaud says, a weak laugh behind the words. “No, violence is disallowed, remember? I value my sister over petty revenge.”

“We have evaded capture once, we could do it again,” Alisaie sniffs. “But that is not what bothered you?”

Alphinaud drops his chin onto his knees again. “Any number of things could have caused it. Maybe all.”

“Oh.” Her ears lower. “I’m sorry. I’m not sure how to help.”

“You are helping. Very much. And I greatly appreciate you being here with me, even if I pulled us out of the office without explaining.”

Alisaie leans herself against him, short and forceful. “If you think I’d abandon my dying brother, you’ve lost it entirely.”

“I am not dying,” Alphinaud snorts. “I am, however… a bit damp, now. And not bereft of embarrassment.”

Alisaie notices, finally, that the wet grass has soaked through her coattails and into her skirt somewhat. “Ah.” Alphinaud, too, must have a damp patch down his back and legs from his position against the ground. “Well, there is no shame in staying out a bit longer. Tataru won’t come for us for at least twenty minutes.” 

She stands, brushing dew and grass off of herself. “Come on, then.”

Alphinaud takes her hand and heaves himself up, nearly hitting his head on the porch. “We can walk a moment.”

••

“Ch’ari.”

The Miqo’te tilts his head in her direction, indicating that he’s listening. Alisaie tries not to let her breath in shudder. 

“When you spoke to Alphinaud about his memory sickness, what did you tell him?”

Ch’ari, ever perceptive, gets to the point she was trying not to dodge around with a concerned tail twitch. “Do you feel sick?”

“No.” 

He tilts his head the other way and studies her. She folds her arms and looks up at him, normally as possible, the Doman morning just cold enough to seep through the bones. 

Ch’ari knows, he knows she’s overly worried, and he’s not good at hiding how much he wants to do something about it. But how could you not be? And how is Hien so calm? If your brother went wholly missing not only in Garlean territory but in the middle of a wasteland of nothingness, with no one but himself and maybe — she doesn’t fully trust Maxima, they don’t know him — maybe one ally, maybe none, hunted down by the crown prince who doesn’t stop even without an Ascian in his skin Zenos doesn’t stop hunting until his quarry is dead or — she needs to stop thinking in front of Ch’ari. 

Said cat folds his arms and hums. “Your brother has about as much courage as he does fear of simple things. When I explained it to him, he mentioned that it was not entirely fear that caused him to fall apart, it was mostly a sense of wrongness.” He gestures with one claw. “It happens without your consent. It isn’t a sign of weakness to be beset upon by illness such as this.”

“I never said it was,” Alisaie says, becoming very interested in her sleeve. “I just… Want to know how he got rid of it so quickly. My brother is on my mind, if you were unaware.”

At least the attempt at humor causes Ch’ari‘s shoulders to relax, a half-smile causing a fang to poke out from under his lip. “I couldn’t tell.”  

He considers his words for but a moment. “Nali taught me a sequence. Firstly, you must recognize what your soul wants to do. Run and hide? Fight? Then, you must let it, but not let it at your objective. Give it a false target to exhaust itself on. For example — I often think I must either fight or hide. And so I have a terribly battered training dummy in my apartment that I allow myself to hurt.” He stops, and waits. For her. 

Alisaie plays along, at least for now. The walkthrough is more important than her posturing, and so she considers it. And after considering, she concludes that it is decidedly not that specific. She feels antsy, like moving, like yelling for someone to fix it. Like stealing a falcon and searching herself. As if her soul is beginning to shiver. “I… I don’t know. I just want to go after him before something happens.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to try running.”

“Right. Doma is big enough.”

“I’ll accompany you, then.” Ch’ari straightens, casting his lance into the impossibly deep fist-sized pocket bag he carries around his waist. Where he got the thing, Alisaie never figured out. “But, before— before we go, another word of advice. Sometimes, despite preventing it, you will get sick anyways.” He gently pokes her in the shoulder. “Like anything else. No matter the medicine, if you have the stomach flu, you might still vomit.”

“Gross.”

“Very. If you do get sick, all you need do is sit and wait. Breathe slowly. Do not focus on anything else. And it will pass soon enough.”

“Hmm.” More waiting. Taking laps sounds like a better option by the second. Alisaie remembers sitting with Alphinaud, however - the way his chest heaved in place and his shivers that passed him in waves. There is likely wisdom in staying still, at that point. She hopes she never experiences it. She hopes he’s not sick. Anything could have happened. Maxima could not possibly know all of this, could he? 

Like reading her mind, Ch’ari pulls out a pair of daggers and closes his bag. “I am proud of you for holding it together,” he mentions, affixing them to his belt. “With Alphinaud’s temperament and your rather knightly tendencies, I half feared you’d be gone already.”

She exhales, focusing instead on lacing her boots. “Yes, well. I have always been less prone to illness than he is.”

“Full glass am I for that. Not that I dislike caring for — well. I’m just glad you’re alright. If we keep our heads on, we will find him soon enough. Shall we race?”

“Where?”

“Mmm. How about that tree?” He points — they have not explored much of the Doman enclave’s surroundings as of yet, and the tree in question rests on a high hill far in the distance. Plenty far to wear herself out. 

“Deal.” She takes off. 

(“Are you feeling any better?”

“No. But… less antsy, I suppose.”

“Good! Good.”)

•• authors note i suppose?? — Ari is conflating a number of mental illnesses, including PTSD and anxiety, all of which share the vague symptom “freak out and shut down due to a trigger of some kind”. I can’t imagine a nomadic tribe or a band of pirates has devoted the resources to mental health, and while I’m sure Sharlyan has picked the topic apart in full, I’m less sure they have a robust and considerate education program about it. Nanali, at least, comes from a large family with chronicled history, and taught Ari the term “memory sickness”. 

I also don’t headcanon Alphy as having anxiety — you can have a panic attack or something similar without having a panic disorder, hence the nomenclature, and when you do, it’s probably a good idea to take the advice of the ones who have them often. He had a bad one early-hw, which scared him half to death and prompted Ari to open up about it. This time it was, like, almost random, but a few too many things happened too fast, and he should have sat down twenty minutes ago but didn’t recognize the warning bells. Alisaie either! She just needs to recognize when she’s starting to get overwhelmed, and already has the “go fast” coping method, but can apply in the short term too in maybe a slightly healthier way. They’re such worried little raccoons and I can’t blame them, not when they’re 16 and they hang out with Me, but auough. Help the

[crystal-verse]

It's been a hot minute but here's another painting of @wanderer-of-light 's Vastha, because those gpose shots of him in that dancer glam continue to live in my mind.

[berryzawati]

Wolbert Week Day 7: Free Day

"How are you liking my hometown, Ardbert? You adore the food? I dare say our cuisine is one of our most beloved treasures..."

[prbni]

My controversial Kdrama opinions

1. Ko Moon Young was just a psychologically messed up girl. She isn't the 'girlpower' or 'badass' that the Kdrama fandom likes to dub her into.

2. In 'Hotel del Luna', they could've just chucked the entire character of Gu Chansung out of the window and gave Chang Myung a rebirth/rebirths,make him go through various trials and tribulations to repent and earn Man Wol's forgiveness. Didn't have to make it unnecessarily tragic.

3. Unnecessarily tragic reminds me, the 'realistic' ending of 2521 was a JOKE. There was NO point of developing such a power couple if they were to break up for such a mundane reason.

4. Romance genre isn't Song Kang's 'thing'. He shines better as an actor in non-romance genres.

5. Had they focused on developing Ju Kyung as an individual character who finally learns how to completely take a stand for herself instead of dangling her between Suho and Seojun, 'True Beauty' would've become a more popular and appreciated drama.

6. The love line between Hwang InYeop and Seo Hyun Jin's character in 'Why her: Oh Soo Jae' was absolutely unnecessary and awkward.

7. Jo Bo Ah and Ahn Bo Hyun and an amazing chemistry in 'Military Prosecutor: Do Bae Man'. However, they could've developed a slowburn romance between them instead of abruptly putting a kiss sequence in the last episode out of nowhere.

8. In 'Snowdrop', Eun Young Ro forgiving Soo Ho later on didn't make sense. Their kiss sequence was purely fan service,nothing else.

9. Individual acting aside,Kim Hye Yoon had more chemistry with Lee Jae Wook(2nd lead) than Rowoon(main lead) in 'Extraordinary You'.

10. Writers are overusing 'Let's kill off the main character and make the show tragically memorable' trope wayyy too much.

11. As much as it physically hurts me given the chemistry of the actors,Choi Do Il and Oh In Joo not having any proper romantic sequence till the end of 'Little Women' makes sense to the storyline(the shipper me might've wanted a hug though).

12. Also the writers should stop doing the 'lets make the second lead better than the main lead'. Its annoying to see one person actually making sincere effort for the girl but the girl ends up totally ignoring their effort and like the ML. Not in just Kdramas but in all sorts of dramas. I actually saw a Chinese drama where the second lead finally turned into a villain. I LITERALLY commented 'good for him' lmao.

13. Sunho in 'Cheer Up' is problematic. Neither his sad backstory nor his sincere feelings for Haeyi changes that fact.

14. The Heirs(2013) drama wasted an opportunity to pair Young Do(Kim Woobin) with Yoo Rachel(Kim Jiwon). No, they didn't need to be 'siblings'. I'd have chosen the two heartbroken yet sassy and tough people romance over the sappy romance of the main couple in a heartbeat. And the actors would've NAILED it.

15. Jojo not ending up with Sunho in 'Love Alarm' finally broke the 'Cinderella and Prince Charming' fairytale trope of Kdramas. That girl was too messed up in the head . She didn't need the rich,fierce and impulsive lover, but the quite,patient and thoughtful one. So don't go ahead and say the ending sucked. Maybe they could've made things more coherent, but no the ending didn't suck.

16. Moon Dong Eun should have remained single, with the last episode ending with him crossing paths with Do Yeong, with Yeonjin & gang & all the revenge agenda gone, she could hv offered him a smile and a game of Go, keeping an open ending for them. Lee Do Hyun was fabulous in playing Yeojeong and their chemistry was amazing. But they could hv just been partners in crime with their teamwork without the romantic plot between them.

17. No. Ryu Shi Oh doesn't give second lead syndrome. Byun Woo Seok is a very good actor but he plays the villain in 'Strong Woman Kang Nam Soon' and not anti-hero. Lee Yoo Mi and him should be paired opposite to e/o in some other project in the future but Shi Oh and Nam Soon ain't the 'enemies to lovers' you think it is.

18. After Byun Woo Seok's popularity skyrocketed with 'Lovely Runner', many people dug up his previous works & lamented over not noticing him earlier. People even felt sad that he got his recognition late. But honestly, he wasn't very noticeable as an actor in his earlier stages imo. He kept working hard on his acting skills to get to where he is now. What I applaud about him is not giving up & putting the efforts in all right places but he didn't start from a 100.

19. I'm actually glad they brought back the fresh romcoms in 2024. Got tired of consistently watching crime thrillers,school violence,zombie apocalypse and stuff. I mean, of course they're good. But the key ingredient for Kdramas will always be those cringey classic slightly over-the-top romcoms.

20. Cha Eunwoo's acting in 'My ID is Gangnam Beauty' isn't as bad as people try to make it. His character actually demanded those stank cold expressions that he delivered. In fact, I'd say his character Do Kyeong Seok was one of the first Kdrama male leads that actually understood and empathised with the FL's situation and protected her in his own way without going over-the-top cliche "she is my yeoja and only I can bother her" about it.

[abyssalmermaiden]

Light Party Unstable beloved

Yloise: @yloiseconeillants

Ancel: @hermits-hovel

Joda: @azure-dragonsinger

[ryuucae]

Photo study

[karoiseka]

Just some calm, everyday downtime--love overflowing.

[thevikingwoman]

Paladin

[bakuzen-xiv]

FFXIVWrite2024 (Day 5): Stamp

“A letter for you, Z'len.”

The miqo'te turned around at the sound of his name. In front of him was the hyur who did administration at the Arcanist’s Guild. Theo, he finally recalled, with a pang of guilt for forgetting his name—especially after assigning the unfortunate man babysitter duties.

The guy, a few years younger than Z'len, never seemed too happy about their surprise visits. Yet he still made the effort to entertain Orion while Z’len handled a job. He couldn’t pawn Orion off on Yellow Bream all the time, after all. She had a tavern to run, and its patrons weren't exactly decent folk.

The pang of guilt inside his heart grew bigger.

Theo was holding something towards him. Looking down, it appeared to be an envelope, pristine paper with an elegant wax seal hiding its contents. He hardly ever received letters. Even if he did, he wouldn’t be able to read a word.

His past tribe expected him to hone more practical skills, such as hunting or scouting. Those were the skills that served the tribe and their Nuhn’s whims. Frivolous matters like education would only distract him, they explained. Z’len didn’t get the chance to argue otherwise before he was ousted.

He’d taught himself some after he left, of course. It was easy enough to write his name or read the street signs scattered around Limsa, though he could recall those from memory by now. To keep himself sharp, he sometimes sat down with the newspaper to test himself. See how many words he recognized, counting them up to see if he had gotten any worse.

Handwriting was a pain in the ass. If people wanted to say something to him, they could say it to his face, he argued. Fuckin' cursive. His tail brisked at the thought of it, whipping side-to-side before he could restrain himself.

He coughed in an attempt to cover up his irritation, looking up at the Hyur who was still holding the letter out to him. Wide eyes looked back at him, a wide, toothy smile, rosy cheeks matching rosy hair. Z’len swore the guy belonged in a spring meadow—surely he’d be a better fit there than he was here in Limsa. No wonder he always hid among the books, he thought to himself.

Z’len reached out, taking the letter out of his hand with a casual “What’s this, then?” He tried to keep his voice neutral, like people would when they got letters and because they were not filled with dread at the expectation of reacting to it.

Theo made no effort to explain himself, so Z'len turned his attention back to the letter. He turned it around in his calloused hands, unable to recognize the seal it carried.

As he looked closer at the symbol stamped into the wax, he realized it looked nothing like those he’d seen before. An amateur-carved seal, he thought to himself, the uneven lines barely forming an “O” within the hardened wax. He frowned and looked back up at Theo, who only gestured with excitement for him to go on.

“Alright,” Z’len shrugged, unsure how long he felt like humoring this guy. It was the least he could do, after making Theo look after his son as often as he had. The guy would be in for a surprise, though, if he expected Z’len to make any sense of his letter.

Opening the letter up, his breath hitched.

“Oh.”

Many possibilities had crossed his mind—perhaps it was a heartfelt letter from Theo pining for Z'len's love, or a commendation from the authorities for his excellent contributions to society. Far more likely would be a warrant for his arrest, considering his day-to-day activities, but he’d crossed that one off the list when he saw Theo’s beaming face.

“To be honest, Zlen... He was supposed to give it to you himself. But his nerves got to him, I suppose. I pray you won’t fault him for him.”

The words were like dull background noise as Z'len adjusted the way his hands held the paper, moving to cradle it like it was worth a million gil. His eyes glanced over the tell-tale sign of a child’s clumsy writing, awkward squiggles floating across the page with great intention and terrible execution. Worse than his own, he thought with fond appreciation for the symbols he could not make any sense of.

Slowly, he held his thumb at the opening line. Different misspellings of his name were crossed out several times, followed up by that combination of letters he’d first taught himself a decade ago: Z’len.

And at the bottom, a combination he'd only taught him a few years ago: Orion.

He stared at it, quietly.

“Orion wrote this?” he asked, wanting to hear confirmation of that which he already knew.

Theo hummed in confirmation.

Z’len quickly rubbed a sleeve across his face to fix his blurring vision, unexpected tears wetting the fabric. “Orion can write,” he repeated, incredulous and proud and joyful.

“Yeah,” Theo grinned, sharing the father’s excitement.

“I don’t know how to fucking read this!” he shouted, a smile still plastered on his teary face.

Theo laughed. “We can work on that!”

Z’len squeezed the young guy’s shoulder, careful not to hurt the frail hyur. It seemed it was time for him to learn his letters after all.