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whilst a gun would probably fix crowley it would make halt 100% worse

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Quick 45-minute Halt sketch because I needed a cover for my spotify playlist!

(holy shit I just noticed the quality on this is absolutely ass I’m so sorry guys)

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crowley: you promised you wouldn't tell a soul!

halt: i know, that's why i told leander. he doesn't have a soul

leander: it's true

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Has this been done?

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I like to think adult Halt never outgrew his teenage awkwardness around Pauline, he just got better at hiding it.

Halt grumbled, crossing his arms, then uncrossing them, what should he do with his hands? “Thank you for your input Lady Pauline.” His hands eventually decided to rest on the table, twitching.

“Must you be so formal? You can just call me Pauline.”

“Well, right, Pauline.” heat crawled up the back of his neck, what should I say? “I suppose you’re right. You’re always right.” WHY DID I SAY THAT? he turned his face away to hide the blush. Quick fix it! “Well, actually you are wrong quite often.” Wait! Now she's going to think that we are insulting her! Quick compliment her! “But you’re so graceful about it.” … this is a disaster.

Pauline raised an eyebrow, “I see.”

Halts thoughts screamed, she hates me now! “by the way you look very nice in your-“ he gestured vaguely at her dress, “clothes.” That came out so wrong.

“Yes, I’m aware.” With that she swept away.

Halt didn’t need to look at Crowley to know he was barely holding back laughter, “Nice in your clothes.” He chortled.

Without looking Halt smacked the back of Crowley's head, face planting him into his coffee mug.

[ultramier]

Welcome to the Ranger Gathering, coming August 2025!

Despite how quiet this account has been this year, the Gathering is still being held! We invite you to take a look at the prompts below.

How it works:

The Ranger Gathering will run for the entire the month of August, 2025. Each day has a prompt that participants can use to inspire works about Ranger's Apprentice, The Early Years, The Royal Ranger, or Brotherband.

Check out last year’s stuff here!

If you want to participate, tag your post with #ranger gathering 2025 so we can all find it!

A few notes on the Gathering:

You do NOT have to do all the prompts, or even most of the prompts to participate in the Gathering! The most important thing is to have fun and avoid burnout. Pick whichever prompts inspire your creativity, and ignore the rest.

The Gathering is meant to show off all forms of creativity! This means art, music, writing, memes, textpost, moodboards, playlists, or whatever else you can come up with. Don't feel like you can't participate if you're not an artist or author.

This blog is going to showcase a few posts from the tag every day of the Gathering, so make sure you support the creators with reblogs and comments.

Good luck, and see you all at the Gathering!

Text Prompts:

1. Adoption

2. Whisper

3. Trickster

4. Runes

5. Cavern

6. Masked

7. Throne

8. River

9. Forge

10. Famous

11. Dance

12. Hunter

13. Fading

14. Bloom

15. Trade

16. Anguish

17. Satisfied

18. Armor

19. Feast

20. Duel

21. Melody

22. Unlock

23. Dream

24. Tool

25. Chain

26. Portrait

27. Gift

28. Release

29. Oath

30. Generations

31. Roots

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If you were to make a Ranger’s Apprentice playlist,

What songs would you put on there? I’m planning to curate an RA playlist, and I’m curious which characters you associate with which songs! I tend to over-select songs I like because I need filler and then they turn out bad, so I’d love some input :)

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Has anyone figured out what’s so viscerally wrong with this woman yet

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What’s a head-canon you have that’s never seen the light of day?

that's a difficult one to answer, because most of my headcannons that i dont talk about are nsfw, or ive mentioned them to some degree i think the only one i hadn't mentioned, and its angsty, is that Crowley didnt just stop breating. he had cancer, stage 4 lung cancer, not aggressive, but persistent, slowly progressing. due to his role as the Commander, he brushed off the symptoms, he didn't even know what exactly was happening to him, he just knew he was sick. He told himself the cough was just a simple cold. the fatigue and weight loss was just the age getting to him. headaches, pain, shaking and cold skin was the stress of the job. during the last month he might've known he was nearing his end, so he isolated himself, working himself thru the fatigue, blood he coughed up. he didn’t just stop breathing, it was not a peaceful death, he suffocated due to fluid buildup in his lungs

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HC: When Halt returned from Hibernia after Kings of Clonmel he brought home some hair wraps from his home region as a birthday present for Crowley. Crowley loves them and proudly wears them to formal events like banquets, diplomatic meetings and such.

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let's say this is a celebration between Crowley Angst Day and the beginning of the pride month. As is of the cannon, Crowley is 7 years older than Halt. And in medieval times, lives were much more fragile, life spans shorter. — Halt doesn’t look like much at first. skinny, half-feral, beard already coming in despite being barely into adulthood. Crowley teases him from the start, and Halt bites back every time. It's immediate, electric, dangerous. They're on missions together and they’re bickering like an old married couple after a week. Neither of them is thinking about the far future. Why would they? They’ve got blades on their hips, arrows at the ready, and the certainty that they might not make it until tomorrow.

Crowley becomes commandant at 27. Too young, too burdened. Halt never says it, but he sees how the role chews at him. And even in their earlier years, before the burden, Crowley was always up before dawn, reading dispatches, writing reports, worrying about everything. It was natural for him to take this role, despite how much weight it was for one man.

Halt started going grey before he hit 30, which was ironic because Crowley, despite the years separating them, still had all his damn hair and it hadn’t gone even a bit silver yet. Halt grumbled about it but honestly? it suited him.

“You looked forty when you were twenty,” Crowley would tease him. But then Crowley starts aging for real, and it wasn't so funny anymore.

Crowley turns 45, and for the first time, he needs help up from the ground after sparring. It’s subtle, blink and you’d miss it. Halt didn’t. Crowley started to age hard and fast after 50. The job wore him down. Constant travel, constant conflict, constant stress. His mind remained as sharp as ever but his body started failing him, slowly, creeping in. His joints hated the cold, he got tired faster. Halt noticed him rubbing his knees after a longer travel. The jokes completely stopped by then. They only serve now as a cruel reminder. They were no longer funny. Not when Halt began to feel the time speed up. The years slipping like sand between his fingers. It was watching the person you loved age faster than you. It was knowing the ending long before you were ready to see it, and you were helpless to stop it. The years passed and Halt was still strong. Still deadly. The grey in his beard might've been white now, sure, but his hands were steady, his aim as flawless as ever.

And Crowley? Crowley was tired. When Crowley turned 60, Halt brought him a bottle of something sharp and expensive, and they sat by the fire in silence for hours. That uncharacteristical, unsettling silence from Crowly. They didn’t toast. They didn’t make speeches. Just at one point, Crowley said, almost offhand, “Never thought I’d get this far.”

Halt didn’t answer. He just reached over, poured them both another glass. —

It wasn’t fair.

After everything. The wars, the battles, the betrayals, the years of danger, it doesn't happen with a sword, not a fight, not even a fall. It happened quietly.

Crowley, in bed, blanket pulled up. eyes open. a faint smile on his face. Like he just remembered something funny and was about to tell Halt.

He just... stopped breathing. Gone. Just like that. The man Halt had loved for over forty years - forty, they’d marked that milestone just last year, sitting beside a fire, when for one brief moment Halt had dared to whisper, “I’m glad we made it.” The man he’d fought beside, lived for, bled for, let himself need, was gone. And all Halt could think was: he didn’t say goodbye. There was no hand squeeze, no final word, no look. Suddenly they ran out of time. Halt sat beside him for hours, didn’t touch the body. Just stared at him, because part of him, some stubborn, foolish, childish part, was still waiting.

Waiting for Crowley to blink, to twitch, to laugh and say, “I got you, didn’t I?”

But he didn't. He never would again.

Halt just sat there for hours. Hands still. heart pounding in his ears like war drums.

And the only thing, the only damn thought he had left in his mind was:

You’re alone now.

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RA Fanart Guild

Hey everyone! I made a community specifically for Ranger's Apprentice fanart, including but not limited to drawings and fanfictions. I'll put the link down below! As someone who has recently (after almost 10 years!) gotten back into RA, I'd love to see your works!

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Some sketches of Will and Horace circa Burning Bridge that I did in class.

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I read these books for the first time when I was like 10/11, and now I can finally draw what these mfs looked like in my head back then!

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they've tried to put me on the cover of the vogue

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The funniest fucking thing to me is that all throughout the books Halt is constantly like “ooooh an old gray rot like myself”, and “ooooh I’m so fucking old” and meanwhile he’s like 34 in the first book? I feel like that says a lot about how he perceives himself lol.