crocro-dyle

[crocro-dyle]

Bothering the beast

[crocro-dyle]

Someone on twitter posted about teen nanami probably hidding somepiercing under that side bang an i couldn't get i out of my head so here it is enjoy

Bonus:

#nanago #gonana #nanami kento #jjk nanami #gojo satoru #jjk gojo #nanami x gojo #gojo x nanami #fanart

[crocro-dyle]

[crocro-dyle]

crazy thang is whenever someone makes a post talkng about how xyz thing annoys them someone will always go 'oh so we're not even allowed to do [thing] anymore??' like no you literally can. that person just will not like you. if that is enough to stop you then its not that youre not allowed its that you are not capable of existing outside of the approval of others

[crocro-dyle]

YES I LOVE THIS AU OH MU GOD YES DC PLEASE GIVE US THIS

cough cough father and son

[crocro-dyle]

tiny bess beetle full of rage 💢🗯️😠📢

click here to hear the mighty war cries!

[crocro-dyle]

You know what’s some crazy $hit?

This fabulous bitch

She makes a shit ton of poses (like 16,000 or some crazy nonsense).  I used this lovely lady to draw so much as a teen.  Whether it was some nerdy pose for my Mary Sue as fuck OCs

or for full on fight sequences

or for tragic deaths of my OCs in the arms of a totally OOC main protagonist.  

this bitch hooked me up.  

And with the wildest, craziest stuff that you could see in your head but had no way or resources to reasonably draw like

or this

or this

DUDE!  INASNE SHIT!!  So I was using her for a pose reference and decided, you know what, I owe this bitch some cash.  Lemme dole it out for her.  BUT then, I looked and saw she only has 286 fucking patrons!!  This chick gives out free shit and spends countless hours arranging these shoots and setting this stuff up.  

I’ll fork up the cash, SenshiStock.  You’re worth it.  

Check out this amazing woman’s stuff, and get knowledged:  https://www.deviantart.com/senshistock

[crocro-dyle]

What if we had that scene - Source:

From Julian Murphy’s and Katie McGrath’s 5x13 commentary. 

[crocro-dyle]

Jaskier’s dad is much like his son: chatty and overly excited to welcome Geralt into their home.

His mother though, is a different story: she’s tall and brooding and gives Geralt silent, suspicious looks whenever she thinks he’s not looking (and sometimes also when she knows he is looking).

Geralt doesn’t think much of it, he’s used to disapproving looks. They give each other a silent, but cordial treatment for weeks until one day, looking for Jaskier Geralt sees her cuddling Jaskier’s two little sisters sleeping on the sofa in the living room. Geralt must stare at her just a moment too long because she carefully extracts herself from her children’s arms and walks up to him.

“You have a problem, witcher?” she asks, closing the door firmly behind herself as if to protect her children from him.

Geralt considers saying something biting or evasive in response, but Jaskier’s family has treated him kindly and very, very generously so far, so the least he owes the lady of the house is an honest answer.

“I don’t see mothers tending to their children often,” he confesses quietly. Jaskier’s mother looks him up and down, then a small smirk spreads on her lips.

“Are Witchers hatched from eggs?” she asks amused, with a touch of genuine curiousity. “Did you not have a mother of your own?”

Geralt swallows and looks her in the eye (he has to look upwards, because Jaskier’s mother is tall, taller than her husband or her son, even taller than him and has strong muscles to match that, but Geralt’s not the one to back off from a bigger opponent be the fight with swords or with words).

“She left me when I was five,” he says plain and simple and something crosses Lady Pankratz’s face, but it’s too quick even for Geralt to catch.

“Did she not have the means to raise you?” she asks not unkindly. Geralt doesn’t speak about this very often, but he just shrugs and thinks he might as well tell the truth.

“She didn’t want me.”

He expects a biting answer, probably a neutral one, but for a moment air seems to freeze in the corridor and now, when she looks up at Jaskier’s mother there’s a distinct expression Geralt knows intimately well: it’s fury.

“She didn’t want you?” she hisses as if just the idea of Visenna abandoning Geralt was a blasphemy and a personal offense against her family in one. Geralt nods weakly and instead of placating her that only seems to be oil on her proverbial fire, redness rising on her cheeks. “My boy, Julian thinks of you as a close friend, doesn’t he?”

“He— tends to say so?” Geralt says hesitantly, not sure where this conversation’s going.

“Then I’m sure he won’t mind if from now on I’ll treat you as a son of my own,” she says simply and Geralt can’t even wrap his mind around it when she puts an arm around his shoulders and ushers him down the corridor. “You haven’t seen the training grounds have you?” she asks as Geralt numbly follows her lead. “Julian said you were good with the long sword. I, myself favor some lighter weaponry these days, but I think I can give it a go, should you want to practice tomorrow. That sounds good to you, Geralt?” Geralt feels too stunned to answer, but she doesn’t seem to mind, she just squeezes his shoulder reassuringly. “It’s alright if you need a bit more time to think about it. It’s getting close to dinner time anyway, maybe we should check on the kitchens too. You did like the venison with the plums, didn’t you? We could ask Paula to make some for you. Would you like that, little dove?”

Geralt is painfully aware that he’s neither little nor has anything in common with a dove, but it doesn’t change the fact that it makes his teeth grind together to choke down something awfully reminding of a sob welling up in his throat.

“Sounds good,” he manages quietly, eventually, and for the first time since Geralt has arrived Jaskier’s mother smiles.

[crocro-dyle]

please reblog if you love oc’s / fully support your oc rp partners 

[crocro-dyle]

And here's my second participation to the geraskier mini bang Always a pleasure and again such good story!!!!

comfortable silence is so overrated

Jaskier is content to pine after Geralt in relative silence and with only mild complaining. A witch with a truth spell has other plans for him.

–

In which Jaskier drinks a truth spell, Geralt is exasperated, and midsummer festivities lead to some realizations.

It’s here! Collaboration for the @geraskiermidsummerminibang​

Fic by: wesawbears

Art by: @crocro-dyle​ (crocro.dyle on Instagram)

Rating: T

Word Count: 5,052

Tags: Truth Potion, love confessions

Summary: Jaskier is content to pine after Geralt in relative silence and with only mild complaining. A witch with a truth spell has other plans for him. In which Jaskier drinks a truth spell, Geralt is exasperated, and midsummer festivities lead to some realizations.

Preview:

If pressed, Jaskier would insist that his current predicament wasn’t even in the top five of the worst problems he’d experienced in his life. Granted, it hadn’t been a particularly long life so far, and it very well might fit into the top ten, but he could ignore that. It would be fine.

It started in an inn, where he was playing in exchange for some ale and easy coin. The villagers were celebrating some kind of summer festival- growth, sunlight, longer days, the whole bit. People had full bellies, full hearts, and most importantly, full purses and Jaskier was nothing if not an opportunist.

Amongst the cheer, Jaskier certainly wasn’t unused to receiving the odd trinket in place of coin. He accepted them just as graciously. He wasn’t ashamed to admit he liked pretty, shiny things, even if those pretty, shiny things sometimes (often) got him into trouble. After all, how was he to know which rings had been in the family for centuries?

On this occasion, there’s a lovely woman who hands him a blue potion, in a lovely vial on a lovelier silver chain. 

“For your voice,” she says, “so it may always ring clear.”

He grins. “Thank you, my dear lady. Blessed by the solstice, no doubt?”

The woman gives a nod and a smile, and bows out of the way, pushed aside by more eager admirers. In retrospect, he probably should have figured that it was some cryptic witch shit, but Jaskier had always been trusting and curious, and his hindsight was a far bit more clever than his nature.

So, instead of just leaving the vial somewhere innocuous, or giving it to Geralt (who would no doubt ruin it), he pocketed it. What was the worst that could happen? It wasn’t like he was going to drink it.

Keep reading on A03: 

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25151374

#the witcher #geraskier #geraskier midsummer mini bang #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #fanfic #fanart #my art

[crocro-dyle]

First mini bang ever for me and i was a lovely expérience SO GO CHECK THEY WORK THEIR FANFICTION IS SO GOOD AND SOFT AND ZKABOQABKA

In collaboration with @crocro-dyle for the Geraskier Midsummer Mini Bang (@geraskiermidsummerminibang)! Crocrodyle is the amazing artist responsible for the illustration you see above, and you can continue to follow their amazing work via Tumblr or Instagram!

Special thank you to Smaller who was the wonderful beta for this fic!

Also available on AO3.

TW: graphic violence during hunt

Summary: Jaskier had always known Midsummer to be a night of festivities, celebration and heavy drinking - preferably with a beautiful partner to warm his bed. When a stroke of good fate landed them in a village prepared to honor the occasion, Jaskier couldn’t wait to share the night with his witcher as soon as he returned from his hunt.

Then Roach showed up in town. Alone.

The wound was severe. Claws had torn into his side, piercing flesh like butter, and were it not for his armor and the very last of his wits, he would have been gored. But he hadn’t been. And the attack that should have secured the victory of the Alp that he had been hunting blessedly became its end. As long, wicked talons carved deep into his side, Geralt grit his teeth and with his elbow he pinned that eviscerating hand to his side – all the while thinking of the words of witchers before him: One must aim one’s sword with great precision, for Alps are unequaled in the art of evading blows.

She would not evade this.

The female Alp howled, the pale span of her thighs quivering as she yanked to free her hand. Nails tore through tissue. Geralt felt pain rip the air from his lungs, but he endured. He endured, because that was what witchers did. Endure until the job was done.

His silver sword would be too long, so Geralt dropped it. The Alp sneered as that silver blade sang against the gnarled roots of the great tree they found themselves entangled beneath. Lush, green leaves crooned a hushed lullaby above them, thrumming with the power of the impending shift into Midsummer. That pending change echoed in the sway of the grass, in the way the breeze carded through his hair. He couldn’t die now. Not before he paid homage… Not before he gave thanks…

“Have you given up, witcher?” the Alp hissed, lips pulling back in a cruel grin of fangs and bloody teeth. Venom pearled at the tips of her teeth. “Too weak to hold your sword?”

Let her think him weak, he thought to himself, free hand reaching back for the hilt of his silver dagger, its blade dipped in Vampire Oil and glistening with deadly promise. Let it be the last thing she ever thinks.

Afficher davantage

#geraskier midsummer mini bang #the witcher #geralt of rivera #jaskier #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt x dandelion #witcher geralt #julian alfred pankratz #fanfic #my art #digital art #art #fanart

[crocro-dyle]

HERE I AM WITH SOFT SHIT AGAIN.

So i was thinking, our dear Bard often writte ok? Like for his song, inspiration, the story and informations que got from Geralt.

And i don't know if any of you ever tried to writte with a feather (of a ...metal pen? How do you call this?) And free ink but it's....a NIGHTMARE it's messy however of how carefull you are there is like 80% that you'll get ink on you hand/finger on the paper ON YOUR CLOTHES

Anyway you got the deal, anyone working with ink may more than often have some of it staining his finger.

Worst thing it's BLODDY AWFULL TO CLEAN cuz well...i stain a bit your skin for a few day.

So now think about this.

There isn't much mystery in this world that Geralt didn't know or so that could surprised him.

But today the woke up with ink stained finger. And he can't put is finger on where it came from, after all he's always carefull to not touch Jaskier stuff, but in the end he brush it off maybe he didn't paid attention the night before and may have touch or moved the bard ink pot or cleaning tissus off the way without tinking, god know how this piece of fabric is often soaked in ink. So he don't think about it any longer.

But it happen again, and again. Without reason, without pattern he witcher just woke up a fews inkstains decorating his fingers or palm of the hand sometime both.

But it don't make any sence, why ink stain? Why on his fingers/hands? How would it get in here ?

Until one fatefull night where everything came in place.

One night like many other where Jaskier stood away until deep in the night, they light lowly illuminating the room and paper. His feather scratching and darkening it with inky black word, lyric, idea, thoughts. His fingertips stained by his passion has the white wolf slumber got stained by darkest things, nightmare.

He never talk about those with Geralt, he knew how the witcher was with this kind of subjects, feeling weren't a things for him and so may be nightmares.

So he never said a word about it and that in silence that he bard leaved his desk, leaving behind him the sturdy support for his own thighs as he placed himself carefully next to his friends. A soft smile on his face, he slowy take the witcher hand in his, finger brushing the warm scared skin of years of figting crossing his knuckles. Caressing tenderly those sword callous fingers as if there where the most precious things before crossing them together a soft smile on his face has his other hand start writting again. Forgetting the sound of feather on paper filling the room for the deep breath of a finally Nightmares free witcher.

The only darkness remaning being the ink staing they skin only trace of this in the morning.

..........SO YEAH

I tried to writte it "good" but it's pretty bad still the idea is.

Geralt had Nightmares and discovert that Jaskier came help him by holding and caressing his hands in the night to calm him without realising that he often leaved behind him some ink stain.

Just geralt sleeping peacefully Jaskier holding his hand whille writting with the other one a little smile on his face has his tumbs caress Geralt knuckles sjzksbkssbla

#the witcher #witcher netflix #geraskier #geralt x dandelion #witcher geralt #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz

[crocro-dyle]

Ok but dear Merlin fandom friend.

I was talking with a friend and we got to the subject of how the fandom just raised from the dead those last month and we just realised.

WE F***ING REALISED THE PROPHECY

Arthur is "the Once and Future King" and will rise again one day when Albion is at its most needed.

Now bare with me i know we don't came from Albion but ya know, looking the whole show crying, laughing and crying again has the story goes kind of make us feel part of it.

(we can consider the fandom as our own albion too)

And with the lastest and still on going event shaking the world ..."albion" and it's people really is at its most needed.

IN THE DARKEST TIME ARTHUR WILL RISE AGAIN FOR ALBION THE SAME WAY THE FANDOM RISED AGAIN WHEN WE NEEDED IT THE MOST.

That all for me love you all!

And don't forget in those dark time light will shine soon!!

#merlin bbc #merlin #fandom prompt #dumb idea #but it's funny #no? #don't forget love yourself but also love others #take care #those time of darkness will came to an end #merlin x arthur #arthur pendragon #albion #prophecy #idk

[crocro-dyle]

Little shout out to @maryluis

I just received my command today in the mail and what can i say?

It's adorable! It's cute ! And i love it so so much!!

So really a big thank you for all your amazing work !!

For the one that don't know them, they are an amazing artist with absolutly stunning art piece and A-DO-RA-BLE Merthur art( if you enjoy Merlin by the BBC)

Anyway love all of this, i'm almost crying from all this cute and amazing work so

GO CHECK THEY WORK (the tumblr is tag at the start)

AND ALSO THEY SHOP/KO-FI AND EVERYTHING BECAUSE IT'S GOOD AND CUTE AND AND and i don't know what to say more.....BUT IT'S REALLY REALLY GOOD SO GO TAKE A LOOK!!

https://linktr.ee/maryluis_art

#go check them out #go check her out #go check it out #shout out #artist promo #artists on tumblr #ko fi support #LOVE THIS #DANG IT #IT'S AMAZING #merthur #merlin bbc #merlin #arthur pendragon

[crocro-dyle]

The Lagoon, pt.2/?

(pt. 1 found here ) I hope you enjoy! I’m just going to keep going wherever the writing or an idea takes me with this, with no real planned direction. @jaskierpankratz and @taketheshot21 I hope this part pleases as much as the first! <3

*

Amidst the trees, night falls rapidly as if dropped from numb hands, and in it a witcher spears through the forest. For within the trees there is a lagoon– tucked not within but behind the heart of the forest, pressed there like something precious.

The trees when Geralt enters whisper with a strange magic in their leaves, soft in the humid green air. There is no comfort in the sound, nor unease; simply an awareness of awareness. It is not a familiar sense. For Geralt who has seen the dryads of Brokilon, he knows as he breathes in no scent of crushed willow leaves that this magic comes not from them or any of their kin. The air tastes of breezes from far off places, and rests upon the forest like a cool hand.

The further he treks through the dense, sweet-smelling thicket, the greater comes the feeling of being known. Geralt hikes through the deepening shadows as the sun sets through the canopy with his eyes always moving, but he sees no sign of spirit or lagoon. When real darkness creeps in among the trunks and boughs and still he has not found the waters the people had spoken of, he reaches into his bag and finds a Cateye potion. The familiar pain in his eyes, his veins, barely registers any longer– though, that is a lie. Pain is always pain even when it is more familiar than pleasure.

Into the night he walks.

The time is nearing when Geralt knows the potion’s effects will wear off when the smell of the sea reaches him. It curls its finger across the glen and a slight rise beyond, beckoning. He climbs it with his mouth opened to draw the air over his palette as he scents it– the heavy, familiar tang of the ocean so strange when mixed with the sweet pine hummus of the forest. Surmounting the rise, he pauses.

The lagoon seeps a blue so sweet he feels nearly dizzy, looking down into a late-afternoon sky. It takes him a few heartbeats to register anything else.

If the summer forest had been humid, here the air swelters, as hot and close as a warm cloth. As he climbs down the hill towards the lagoon, the light off the waters startles him at first. Then he remembers what one villager had described to him and sees, yes, the waters are lit as if in a warm sun, for all he knows there is a bare sliver of a moon left in the sky beyond the trees. It casts the area around it into a pale glow. 

The forest had hummed with magic, but this place sings. The wolf amulet lain across his cuirass buzzes in confirmation. Curious, he stoops warily to the edge amidst the drooping ferns and dripping ivy and dips a hand in to find the lagoon lined with a fine white sand like he has never seen so far north. Salt stings the various cuts and scrapes on his knuckles that a long week’s riding and living off the land had given him. Even so, he brings a finger to his tongue to confirm.

The villagers had instructed him to sit by the edge of the pool. The sense of vulnerability irks him. Finally he settles to kneel as if he is to meditate. He would much prefer to stand, but at least knelt he can still easily draw the silver blade on his back.

Surveying the waters, Geralt casts back on all the books on spirits and minor gods and fae he has read in his long life and thinks he has never encountered a spirit like this before. A piece of the sea pressed into the temperate mountains and forest of Redania. He wonders at the source of its power, its history, and as he waits he knows he will likely never know. 

He does not wait long.

He feels it first. A drip of curiosity slides cool down his neck. Knelt as he is, Geralt does not lift his head, but watches the still waters under his brows. He knows it has come when the smell of lilies suffuses him all of once.

“You aren’t one of mine,” says a warm, husky voice. 

Afficher davantage

[crocro-dyle]

Well fuck * play sap lonely song*

AT LEAST I ENJOY THE COLD I GUESS 8")

I did this instead of everything else I was supposed to do today, but here you go! I will reblog with the link