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non-plutonian-druid · 1 year

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I wanted to try to do some short comics for the otgw au but couldnt come up with any Situations to put ben and diego in. so here they are not-talking about their trauma instead lmao

(also thanks so much to @sharkneto for the ID!!! my brain is fried i couldn’t have written that up today on my own)

[ID: A two page comic titled FIVE, starring Ben and Diego from The Umbrella Academy, drawn in the style of Over the Garden Wall.

Page 1:

Panel 1: Viewed from above, Diego and Ben walk along a dirt path with fall grasses and shrubs to the sides. Diego wears a black outfit with a black, knitted cap on his head that has yellow eyes and triangular ears on top so that he is dressed like a cat. He looks angry. Ben wears a white shirt and brown pants with green, orange, and yellow scarves wrapped around his neck to act as tentacles for his costume. His expression is neutral. He carries Mr. Pennycrumb in his arms, who is a small and yellow dog with floppy ears.

Panel 2: Diego is in the foreground, unhappy and his hands in his pockets. Ben is behind him, eyes closed and looking very content to be holding Mr. Pennycrumb. Diego says, “Why do you even still take care of that thing?”

Panel 3: A close up on Mr. Pennycrumb dangling in Ben’s arms. His eyes look in two different directions and his tongue sticks out. He is adorable.

Panel 4: A close up on Ben and Mr. Pennycrumb, viewed from slightly below. Ben says, “Because he’s Five’s.”

Panel 5: Diego and Ben walking with fall foliage behind them. Diego is slightly ahead of Ben and is glaring as he looks back at Ben. Diego says, “Five doesn’t care enough to stick around, and now you and Vik are saddled with it.” Ben asks, “Why do you hate him so much?”

Panel 6: Diego stands with his arms raised over his head in exasperation, mouth open wide to speak. He says in a series of three speech bubbles, “I don’t hate it! It’s just dumb! And useless! And now we have to look after it when Five couldn’t be bothered to!”

Page 2:

Panels 1 and 2: Ben holds Mr. Pennycrumb and looks down, hurt. Mr. Pennycrumb looks especially googly-eyed and cute. Ben says, “You don’t know that.”

Panel 3: Diego and Ben walking, Diego still in front of Ben. Diego is still angry and his hands are in the air again and his mouth is open wide to yell. Ben is also angry, with his eyebrows low. Diego says, “Well he’s not here now, is he? He left!” Ben says, “You don’t know that either.”

Panel 4: Diego is gesturing angrily and exaggeratedly with his arms. He says, “You and Vik are so convinced something bad happened!”

Panel 5: Closer in on Diego’s face. His eyebrows are low and his mouth is open wide. He says, “He’s fine! He wanted to leave!”

Panel 6: Diego and Ben have to climb over a thick, mossy log that lays over the dirt path. Diego is halfway over the top while Ben is still on the other side, only the top of his head and his feet visible behind it. Diego glares and says in a series of four bubbles, “He told us he would, then he did. And he left his shiny new dog behind and you and Vik are going to take care of it until it dies.”

Panel 7: Diego has climbed over the log and is in the foreground, walking and still angry, his arms outstretched to gesture. Ben is small in the background, just getting over the log with Mr. Pennycrumb still in his arms. Diego says, “Or until you go to college.”

Panel 8: Diego is viewed sightly from the back, looking over his shoulder. His expression is flatter and mean. He says, “And Dad drowns it or something.”

Panel 9: Ben stands alone in front of the log, Mr. Pennycrumb dangling in his arms. His expression is blank. Mr. Pennycrumb’s eyes are extra googly again. He is adorable as always.

Panel 10: Viewed from above, this time from slightly behind so we look at their backs, Diego and Ben continue walking down the path, the log behind them. Ben says, “You’re such an asshole, Diego.” End ID.]

#tua #the umbrella academy #ben hargreeves #diego hargreeves #five hargreeves #doesnt appear but its about him so im tagging it #mr pennycrumb #srsly thank you so much shark this is so much work that i just didnt have it in me to do <33333 #my art #ben and diego get stuck in the woods #<-reminder that that is my otgw au tag

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thenixart · 1 year

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[ID: Three pictures of gold, black, yellow, and cream colored dragons in profile facing left. Behind them is a grey background with purple rectangles to frame the dragons. The dragons have some bird-like features like beaks and partially feathered wings and bodies. They have long quills on their backs and a stinger at the end of arow tipped tails.

The first picture contains two dragons, one larger dragon standing on four legs with its wings partially outstretched and one smaller dragon standing on two legs with its wings partially outstretched. The smaller dragon has a bright blue throat sack with purple and pale blue markings that resemble an eye from the side.

The second picture only contains the larger dragon.

The third picture only contains the smaller dragon. /End ID]

Full body designs for Musa Musa and her clutch brother Mune demonstrating the differences between male and female riding wyverns. Hens are quadrupedal and much larger than the cocks. The hens are the ones that are ridable. Depending on saddle style and size of rider the poisonous quills on the hen’s back may be clipped.

The cocks are small and bipedal. Instead of being mounts like the hens, they are instead used similar to hunting dogs or falcons. Chasing large prey back towards their owners to kill or catching/killing/retrieving smaller prey. Wyvern cocks are small enough and light enough to ride on the back of their master. Their throat sack can be deflated into a smaller dark globe like the females when not displaying.

Both cocks and hens have hands on their first set of legs that have opposable thumbs. Riding wyvern pens need special locks to keep the animals from letting themselves out. Feed bins/rooms similarly need special locks to prevent the animals from opening them.

The quills, tail stinger, wing claws, and fangs of riding wyverns contain venom/poison used in self defense from their predators or to take down prey. Riding wyverns can also spit gouts of boiling venom by mixing chemicals in their throat sac.

#dragons #wyverns #prince of gold #thenixkat #musa musa

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 1 year

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https://quranx.com/Hadith/Muslim/USC-MSA/Book-4/Hadith-1032

Abu Dharr reported:

The Messenger of 'Allah (ﷺ) said: When any one of you stands for prayer and there is a thing before him equal to the back of the saddle that covers him and in case there is not before him (a thing) equal to the back of the saddle, his prayer would be cut off by (passing of an) ass, woman, and black Dog. I said: O Abu Dharr, what feature is there in a black dog which distinguish it from the red dog and the yellow dog? He said: O, son of my brother, I asked the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) as you are asking me, and he said: The black dog is a devil.

https://quranx.com/Hadith/AbuDawud/USC-MSA/Book-16/Hadith-2839/

Narrated Abdullah ibn Mughaffal:

The Prophet (ﷺ) said: Were dogs not a species of creature I should command that they all be killed; but kill every pure black one.

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Bukhari/USC-MSA/Volume-1/Book-9/Hadith-490/

Narrated `Aisha:

The things which annul the prayers were mentioned before me. They said, "Prayer is annulled by a dog, a donkey and a woman (if they pass in front of the praying people)." I said, "You have made us (i.e. women) dogs. I saw the Prophet (ﷺ) praying while I used to lie in my bed between him and the Qibla. Whenever I was in need of something, I would slip away. for I disliked to face him."

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Bukhari/USC-MSA/Volume-4/Book-54/Hadith-450

Narrated Salim's father:

Once Gabriel promised the Prophet (that he would visit him, but Gabriel did not come) and later on he said, "We, angels, do not enter a house which contains a picture or a dog."

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Bukhari/USC-MSA/Volume-4/Book-54/Hadith-448/

Narrated Abu Talha:

I heard Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) saying; "Angels (of Mercy) do not enter a house wherein there is a dog or a picture of a living creature (a human being or an animal).

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Muslim/USC-MSA/Book-24/Hadith-5277/

Abu Huraira reported Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) as saying:

Angels do not accompany the travellers who have with them a dog and a bell.

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Muslim/USC-MSA/Book-24/Hadith-5246/

A'isha reported that Gabriel (peace be upon him) made a promise with Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) to come at a definite hour; that hour came but he did not visit him. And there was in his hand (in the hand of Allah's Apostle) a staff. He threw it from his hand and said:

Never has Allah or His messengers (angels) ever broken their promise. Then he cast a glance (and by chance) found a puppy under his cot and said: 'A'isha, when did this dog enter here? She said: By Allah, I don't know He then commanded and it was turned out. Then Gabriel came and Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said to him: You promised me and I waited for you, but you did not come, whereupon he said: It was the dog in your house which prevented me (to come), for we (angels) do not enter a house in which there is a dog or a picture.

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Muslim/USC-MSA/Book-24/Hadith-5248/

Maimuna reported that one morning Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) was silent with grief. Maimuna said:

Allah's Messenger, I find a change in your mood today. Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) said: Gabriel had promised me that he would meet me tonight, but he did not meet me. By Allah, he never broke his promises, and Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) spent the day in this sad (mood). Then it occurred to him that there had been a puppy under their cot. He commanded and it was turned out. He then took some water in his hand and sprinkled it at that place. When it was evening Gabriel met him and he said to him: you promised me that you would meet me the previous night. He said: Yes, but we do not enter a house in which there is a dog or a picture. Then on that very morning he commanded the killing of the dogs until he announced that the dog kept for the orchards should also be killed, but he spared the dog meant for the protection of extensive fields (or big gardens).

Oops.

Here’s a little secret: non-Muslims, especially from western countries, assume that because Islam is so structured and so difficult to approach compared to Xianity in particular, that Muslims know more about their religion and their scripture in comparison.

They don’t. Many may know even less, aside from the “nice” ayahs and hadiths posted as pretty memes. Xians have bible study groups and discuss the meaning and interpretation of various verses. The quran is recited in Arabic, yet there are only ~280m Arabic speakers worldwide, which is only around 14% of the 1.9b Muslims. The quran isn’t learned for understanding, it’s memorized for recitation. Children are beaten for not regurgitating it accurately, rather than because they didn’t learn the substance and lessons of the scripture; many of them never know the meaning of the words they’re moaning out.

"We are the Borg. Your biological and technological distinctiveness will be added to our own. Resistance is futile."

If a Muslim tells you something about Islam that doesn’t sound right, chances are decent that it’s not; you’re no more likely to be wrong than they are. You don’t need to assume they’re lying, although that’s not out of the question. It’s sufficient to assume they don’t know what they’re talking about.

Regardless, Islam’s distaste for the purity of puppies is reason enough to reject Islam.

#Yasmine Mohammed #black dogs #black dog #islam #dogs not gods #Ex Muslim Awareness Month #Ex Muslim Month #quran #hadith #islamic ignorance #religion #religion is a mental illness

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exhausted-archivist · 4 months

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Raw Ingredients

Updated: 2023/12

As of now, this list is updated with everything found in media released as of Oct 2023.

Like the original, this contains all raw ingredients; edible plants, fruits, legumes, mushrooms, nuts, spices, and vegetables. If known to a specific region it is marked next to the item in parentheses, if it is not, it is either unknown or universally consumed.

For Other Food Posts

Dishes, Sauces, and Sides

Drinks

Prepared Ingredients

Canonically Possible Foods and Drinks

Food and Drink Master Post

Disclaimer

Though real life plants may be listed here as edible, it is for fictional use only. This is not intended to be used as a reference nor guide for what plants are edible or safe to eat. Please do not use it as such.

Fruits, Mushrooms, Nuts, and Vegetables

Edible Plants

Bark

Fern Fiddlehead (Avvar)

Hops

Lichen (Dwarves)

Black Lichen - Toxic unless properly cooked.

Moss (Dwarves)

Nettle

Pungent Leaves - Unspecified leaves. (Avvar)

Rose (Orlais)

Rose Petals

Rosehips

Stripweed (Tevinter)

Sugar Cane (Orlais, Tevinter, Rivain)

Vine Leaves (Tevinter)

Watercress (Avvar)

Wildflowers

Borage

Chicory

Dandelion

Honeysuckle

Jasmine

Violet

Fruits and Nuts

Apple

Applewood Apples (Orlais)

Golden Apples (Orlais)

Green Apples

Le Pomme Vie et Morte - Apples that grow by the gallows in Val Royeaux. (Orlais)

Red Apples

Windfall Apples

Apricot

Banana

Par Vollen Banana

Rivain Banana

Berry

Blackberry (Ferelden)

Blueberry

Cranberry

Currant

Black Currant

Elderberry (Ferelden)

Raspberry

Strawberry (Ferelden)

Caper (Antiva)

Cherry

Black Cherry

Sour Cherry - unspecified variety(ies)

Sweet Cherry - unspecified variety(ies)

Cocoa/Chocolate (Donarks)

Coconut

Coffee (Antiva)

Date - A purple and red fruit with a pit, it has a sweetness and tangy taste. (Tevinter)

Fig (Tevinter)

Grape

Red Grape (Orlais)

Lemon

Lime

Mango

Nuts

Almond

Chestnut

Pine Nut

Olive

Antivan Olive

Orange (Antiva, Orlais, Tevinter)

Blood Orange (Nevarra)

Passion Fruit (Antiva)

Peach

Pear

Plum

Pomegranate (Tevinter)

Pomegranate Seeds

Grain

Barley

Fereldan Barley

Pot Barley

Oats

Rolled Oats

Rice (Antiva, Rivain)

Ryott (Ferelden)

Wheat

Durum Wheat (Rivain)

Whole Grains

Mushrooms

Deep Mushroom

Field Mushroom

Unspecified Fungus - Used to brew Dwarven ale.

Truffle

Unnamed Glowing Fungus

Wild Mushroom

Vegetables and Legumes

Beans

Bush Beans (Free Marches)

Green Beans (Orlais)

Pale Beans (Orlais)

White Beans (Orlais)

Beet

Cabbage

Carrot

Purple Carrot (Orlais)

White Carrot (Orlais)

Celery

Chickpea (Rivain)

Chive

Corn

Checkered Corn

Golden Corn (Orlais)

Yellow Corn

Cucumber

Eggplant (Antiva, Ferelden)

Fennel (Orlais)

Leek

Lentils

Lettuce

Mustard

Onion

Red Onion (Orlais)

Sweet Onion (Orlais)

White Onion

Pea

Peanut (Antiva, Seheron)

Pepper

Antivan Pepper

Green Pepper

Hot Pepper

Hot Red Pepper

Red Bell Pepper (Rivain)

Sweet Pepper (Orlais)

Potato

Radish

Daikon Radish (Ferelden)

Rhubarb (Ferelden)

Spinach

Squash

Marrow Squash

Pumpkin

String Squash

Tomato

Turnip - aka navet

Turnip Greens

Wild Greens

Yams (Ferelden)

Animal Products

Dairy

Cream

Heavy Cream

Milk

Cow Milk

Goat Milk

Halla Milk

Ram Milk

Soured Milk

Eggs

Caviar

Chicken Egg

Fish and Seafood

Carp

Cod

Crab

Cuttlefish

Eel

Krone

Lamprey

Mackerel

Mussel

Oyster

Prawn

River Herring

Shrimp

Sunfish

Trout

Whitebait

Insects

Cave Beetle (Dwarven)

Giant Spider (Dwarven)

Scorpion

Snail (Avvar)

Wood-burrowing beetle larvae (Dalish)

Meats

Beef

Ox-tongue

Veal

Boar

Bronto (Orzammar)

Cat - mentioned to be eaten in Orlesian alienages by those most desperate (City Elves of Orlais)

Dog - mentioned to be eaten in Orlesian alienages by those most desperate (City Elves of Orlais)

Druffalo

Giant (Tevinter)

Goat

Gurn

Halla

Hare

Hart

Horse

Liver - General name given, animal isn’t specified.

Nug

Pork

Pig’s Feet

Pork Hocks

Pork Saddle

Rabbit

Ram

Rat - mentioned to be eaten in alienages by those most desperate (City Elves of Anderfels, Ferelden)

Sheep

Lamb

Mutton

Venison

Wandering Hills (Anderfels)

Poultry and Reptiles

Bunting

Chicken

Poussin (Chasind)

Deepstalker (Dwarven)

Dove

Dracolisk (Tevinter)

Dragon (Nevarra, Orlais)

Duck

Gurgut (Avvar)

Lurker (Avvar)

Partridge

Pheasant

Phoenix

Pigeon

Quail

Quillback

Swan

Turkey

Varghest

Wyvern (Avvar and Orlais)

Misc.

Dragon Blood (Nevarra)

Druffalo Dung

Honey

Honeycomb

Miscellaneous Ingredients

Baking Ingredients

Ash

Elfroot Ash

Hardwood Ash (Dalish)

Baking Powder

Yeast Cake

Salts

Fine-ground Salt

Rock Salt

Sea Salt

Others

Brine

Clay (Avvar)

Pine Pitch (Alamarri)

Herbs and Spices

Herbs

Basil - Mentioned to be grown in Serault, Orlais.

Dried Basil

Bay Leaf

Catsbane

Elfroot

Elfroot Leaves

Royal Elfroot

Lavender (Orlais)

Mint

Anderfels’s Mint

Foxmint

Peppermint

Oregano

Dried Oregano

Parsley

Prophet’s Laurel

Rosemary

Spindleweed

Verdant Spindleweed

Thyme

Spices

Allspice

Anise

Antivan Cord-seed

Cardamom

Cinnamon (Rivain, Seheron)

Clove

Cumin

Cumin Seed

Deep Mushroom Powder (Orlais and Orzammar)

Dill

Dill Seeds

Eastern Spice - Unnamed

Fennel

Fennel Seeds

Garlic

Ginger

Dried Ginger

Hot Pepper Powder

Hot Red Pepper, Crushed

Juniper

Licorice

Mace

Mustard

Mustard Powder

Mustard Seeds

Nutmeg (Seheron)

Grated Nutmeg

Ground Nutmeg

Pepper

Black Pepper

Peppercorn

Black Peppercorn

Poppyseed

Saffron

Spice Ball - A variety of mixed spices wrapped in a cheesecloth

Star Anise

Vanilla (Rivain)

Sources:

(If you want to find the direct links or page numbers, check out the Wiki's Food and Ingredients page.)

Primary Sources:

Dragon Age: Origins (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age: Awakening Dragon Age 2 (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age: The Last Court Dragon Age: Inquisition (DLCs + Multiplayer)

Books:

Dragon Age Tabletop RPG Core Rulebook Dragon Age Tabletop RPG: Blood in Ferelden Dragon Age Tabletop RPG: Game Master’s Kit: Buried Past World of Thedas Vol. 1 World of Thedas Vol. 2 Dragon Age Official Cookbook: Tastes of Thedas Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne Dragon Age: The Calling Dragon Age: The Masked Empire Dragon Age: Last Flight Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights

Short Stories:

Short Story: Paper and Steel Short Story: Paying the Ferryman

Comics:

Silent Grove Mage Killer Knight Errant Deception

DAO

Codex Entry: Feast Day Fish

Codex Entry: History of Soldier’s Peak: Chapter 3

Codex Entry: In Praise of the Humble Nug

Codex Entry:A Tattered Shopping List

Item: Abyssal Peach

Item: Brandy

Item: Carnal, 8:69 Blessed

Item: Mosswine

Item: Rare Antivan Brandy (Gift)

Item: Sugar Cake

Item: Sun Blonde Vint-1

Item: West Hill Brandy

DAII

Item: Dragon’s Blood

DAI

Codex Entry: On Avvar Cuisine

Codex Entry: Bottles of Thedas

Codex Entry: The City of Starkhaven

Codex Entry: La Pomme Vie et More

Codex Entry: Mad Emperor Reville

Codex Entry: Plant vs. Corpses

Codex Entry: Ram

Codex Entry: A Scholar’s Journal

Codex Entry: Spindleweed

Codex Entry: Surviving the Western Approach

Codex Entry: Waterlogged Diary

Item: Wedge of Destiny

Note: Betta’s Travel Journal

Note: The Gilded Horn’s Drink List

Note: Knight-Captain’s Orders

Note: A Note from the Skyhold Kitchen

Note: The Rusted Horn’s Menu

Note: Scribbled Note

Wartable Mission: Inspire

Wartable Mission: Plant Crystal in Venatori Headquarters

Last Court Cards

Atop the Tower of Lights

The Elegant Abbess

Flames of Freedom

The Glassblowers’ Anger

Go Hunting

Good Neighbor

The Next Course

The Purveyors of Tea

Thieves!

An Unofficial Meeting

The Wyvern is Cornered

Wanna support this blog? You can check out my ko-fi.

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benevaletete · 2 years

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Bloodsport

Auguste and Laurent go boar hunting in the woods to contribute to Vere's autumn festival. Laurent is thirsty.

Auguste/Laurent

This year’s harvest feast would be special. Usually, nobles and gentry from around the palace would provide some of the meat for the feast. For the rights to hunt in the woods was theirs. Farmers also contributed with payment in kind; grains, herbs and vegetables. Usually these would be carried in large woven baskets and displayed on a separate table in the hall.

Autumn showed its most splendid colours on Montegrasse. Apples of yellow-red hues, berries in vibrant red or juicy dark violet, fresh braids of bread, the smell of sun-dried wheat, of wet hay. Of course the palace would contribute the biggest bulk of food, especially meats of all kinds for the people, but it was not required for the royal family to participate in hunting said food.

This year, however, Auguste was the heart of the hunting party. And his brother loved blood sports. Whether with baying hounds and heavy boots; light on his feet with bow and arrow or a majestic falcon - Auguste excelled.

The massive black boar lay to their horses’ hooves. The animal was truly frightening by its size alone. Laurent preferred to hunt small game. Boar hunting - for all the excitement it offered, was a dangerous sport. One he only dared and enjoyed when he hunted with someone he could form a unit, someone he trusted, like Auguste. Now that the boar had been cornered and immobilised, Laurent could observe it from up close. Its nostrils flared, a deep, rattling breath resounded from its rib cage. Auguste’s catch dogs held it down by the neck. Their fangs were buried in the side of the boar’s neck. Warm blood oozed out of the wound.

‘Good boys,’ Auguste praised his catch dogs as he dismounted his horse. He unlatched the boar spear at the side of his saddle. Laurent, still seated on Frou-Frou, tugged at his reins to step aside. His brother placed two fingers in his mouth. A loud whistle sounded, calling back his dogs. Two of them immediately scurried back around Auguste’s legs. The last dog did not move an inch. Auguste clicked his tongue, tugging the dog aside by its collar.

'Off with you!' he bellowed, sounding irritated.

The dog came off with ears lowered. Auguste patted its thigh and pointed sternly to where the other dogs waited. Finally, it scurried off. Laurent pursed his lips as it approached him. That was Basile. Basile, who incidentally he was in charge of training. But the dog's disobedience was a fault in its character, not a testimony to Laurent’s ability to train a dog for the hunt. He had said as much when Jord - audacious as he was - insinuated maybe he should be stricter with the dog when Basile mistook him for a turd. Laurent thought Jord simply had problems coming to terms with his identity when even a dog could tell.

Auguste’s boots crunched up twigs and leaves on the forest ground as he stepped behind the boar, shoulders squared and his dark green cap low over his eyes.

‘Always make sure to approach a dying animal like this from behind, otherwise you might get hurt.’ Laurent watched as Auguste placed himself above the boar, both legs trapping its massive body beneath him.

‘Once you’re in this position, you have to act quickly,' Auguste instructed.

The breath he exhaled formed a little puff of hot air in front of his mouth. For a moment everything was silent. Laurent could hear the faint murmur of a prayer. A Kemptian prayer expressing a keen respect towards mankind's place within the greater scheme of nature, a tribute to the boar. Time seemed to slow down. Then his brother lifted the spear and, with an abrupt and strong thrust, punctuated the boar’s jugular. The boar tensed up and grunted, almost screeched, in a high-pitched tone one last time.

Frou-Frou grew nervous below him. ‘There, there,’ Laurent soothed his horse by brushing its neck, his eyes fixed on Auguste pulling his spear out of the now dead animal. He wiped off the tip of the spear briefly, before stepping back.

It was done. Despite being an experienced hunter and sometimes hunting for sports, his brother held utmost respect for all animals. Especially those that were killed to provide food for the kingdom. Auguste turned around, using the spear to steady himself. As he approached Frou-Frou, he gave Laurent an intense look from under his dark cap. He was the very image of a skilled hunter. As graceful as he was powerful.

Auguste walked up to his own horse to fasten the spear to the saddle once again. It shined as if it hadn’t been used once. When their eyes met, Auguste raised his eyebrows slightly, as if he was waiting for something. He yanked the leather satchels of his saddle open with one tug, his lips still apart. The task of taking a life seemed to have exerted his brother physically. Yet he seemed unaffected in mind, as if his masterly executed kill was not worth being mentioned. As if hunting and killing such majestic creatures was second nature to him. He didn’t content himself with thrushes and hares, like Laurent, he only challenged his equal in the animal kingdom; the king of kings.

Laurent swallowed.

Auguste scowled and nodded towards the boar behind him. He blinked in response, his head feeling light.

Oh, right.

The boar had to be transported back to the palace. Laurent nodded, coming out of his stupor. He pressed the heels of his boots back, spurring Frou-Frou on.

‘Pardon,’ he said to his brother. Then he put two fingers in his mouth and whistled to call the other members of the party for that task.

#lauguste #laurent of vere #auguste of vere #my writing #captive prince

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old-archivist · 2 years

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Foods of Thedas: Raw Ingredients

These are all the canonically mentioned raw ingredients. By that I mean Ingredients that don't require processing like caramel, dried or salted meats, or jam. But the ingredients that go into making such things. As with the previous posts, I didn’t include any of the potential items that could be used, just to prevent confusion should you go looking for the source of any of the items on this list.

For Additional Food Posts

Dishes, Sauces, and Sides

Drinks

Prepared Ingredients

Cannonically Possible Foods and Drinks

Master Post

Fruits, Mushrooms, Nuts, and Vegetables

Edible Plants

Fern Fiddlehead

Lichen

Moss

Pungent Leaves - Unspecified leaves used in Avvar cooking of baked fish.

Rose

Rose Petals

Rosehips

Stripweed

Sugar Cane (Tevinter, Rivain)

Wildflowers

Borage

Chicory

Dandelion

Honeysuckle

Violet

Fruits and Nuts

Apple

Applewood Apples (Orlais)

Golden Apples (Orlais)

Green Apples

Le Pomme Vie et Morte - Apples that grow by the gallows in Val Royeaux.

Red Apples

Windfall Apples

Apricot

Banana

Par Vollen Banana

Rivain Banana

Berry

Blueberry

Cranberry

Elderberry

Raspberry

Strawberry

Caper (Antiva)

Cherry

Cocoa/Chocolate (Donarks)

Coconut

Coffee (Antiva)

Currant

Black Currant

Date - A purple and red fruit with a pit, it has a sweetness and tangy taste. (Tevinter)

Fig

Grape

Lemon

Lime

Nuts

Almond

Chestnut

Pine Nut

Olive

Antivan Olive

Orange (Orlais, Antiva)

Passion Fruit

Peach

Pear

Plum

Pomegranate

Pomegranate Seeds

Grain

Barley

Pot Barley

Oats

Rolled Oats

Rice

Ryott

Ryott Flour

Wheat

Wheat Flour

Whole Grains

Whole Grain Flour

Mushrooms

Deep Mushroom

Field Mushroom

Unspecified Fungus - Used to brew Dwarven ale.

Truffle

Unnamed Glowing Fungus

Wild Mushroom

Vegetables

Beans

Bush Beans

Green Beans

Pale Beans

White Beans

Cabbage

Carrot

Purple Carrot

White Carrot

Celery

Chive

Corn

Checkered Corn

Golden Corn

Yellow Corn

Cucumber

Eggplant

Fennel

Lettuce

Mustard

Onion

Red Onion

Sweet Onion

White Onion

Pea

Pepper

Antivan Pepper

Green Pepper

Hot Pepper

Hot Red Pepper

Red Bell Pepper

Sweet Pepper

Potato

Radish

Spinach

Squash

Marrow Squash

Pumpkin

String Squash

Tomato

Turnip - aka navet

Turnip Greens

Wild Greens

Animal Products

Dairy

Butter

Cow Butter

Goat Butter

Halla Butter

Herbed Butter

Nug Butter

Cheese

Ativan Smoked Cheese

Blue-veined Cheese (Orlesian)

Brie Cheese

Brined Goat Cheese

“Dalish” Cheese - An ill described item as it is unclear if it is actually cheese. One thing is for sure it isn’t Dalish.

Feisty Cheese

Goat Cheese

Halla Cheese

Pecorino Romano (Antivan)

Ram Cheese

Cream

Spiced Cream

Thickened Cream

Whipped Cream

Milk

Cow Milk

Goat Milk

Halla Milk

Ram Milk

Soured Milk

Eggs

Caviar

Chicken Egg

Egg Whites

Egg Yolk

Fish

Carp

Cod

Eel

Krone

Lamprey

Mackerel

Mussel

Oyster

River Herring

Sunfish

Trout

Whitebait

Insects

Cave Beetle (Dwarven)

Giant Spider (Dwarven)

Scorpion

Snail (Avvar)

Wood-burrowing beetle larvae (Dalish)

Meats

Beef

Ox-tongue

Rump Roast - A cut of meat from the hindquarters

Veal

Boar

Bronto

Cat

Deepstalker (Dwarven)

Dog

Dragon

Druffalo

Goat

Gurgut

Gurn

Halla

Hare

Hart

Horse

Liver - General name given, animal isn’t specified.

Lurker (Avvar)

Nug

Phoenix

Pork

Pig's Feet

Pork Hocks

Pork Saddle

Quillback

Rabbit

Ram

Rat

Sheep

Lamb

Mutton

Varghest

Venison

Wandering Hills (Anderfels)

Wyvern

Poultry

Bunting

Chicken

Dove

Duck

Partridge

Pheasant

Pigeon

Quail

Swan

Turkey

Misc.

Dragon Blood (Nevarran)

Druffalo Dung

Honey

Honeycomb

Miscellaneous Ingredients

Baking Ingredients

Ash

Elfroot Ash

Hardwood Ash (Dalish)

Baking Powder

Yeast Cake

Salts

Fine-ground Salt

Rock Salt

Salt

Sea Salt

Others

Brine

Clay (Avvar)

Pine Pitch (Alamarri)

Herbs and Spices

Herbs

Basil

Dried Basil

Bay Leaf

Catsbane

Elfroot

Elfroot Leaves

Royal Elfroot

Lavender (Orlesian)

Mint

Anderfels’s Mint

Foxmint

Peppermint

Oregano

Dried Oregano

Parsley

Prophet's Laurel

Rosemary

Spindleweed

Verdant Spindleweed

Thyme

Spices

Allspice

Anise

Antivan Cord-seed

Cardamom

Cinnamon (Seheron)

Clove

Cumin

Cumin Seed

Deep Mushroom Powder (Orlesian and Dwarven)

Dill

Dill Seeds

Dragon Blood Powder (Nevarran)

Eastern Spice - Unnamed

Fennel Seeds

Garlic

Ginger

Dried Ginger

Hot Pepper Powder

Hot Red Pepper, Crushed

Juniper

Licorice

Mace

Mustard

Mustard Powder

Mustard Seeds

Nutmeg (Seheron)

Grated Nutmeg

Pepper

Black Pepper

Peppercorn

Black Peppercorn

Poppyseed

Saffron

Spice Ball - A variety of mixed spices wrapped in a cheesecloth

Star Anise

Vanilla (Rivain)

Sources: ( If you want to find direct links or page numbers check out the wiki’s Food and Ingredients page.) Dragon Age: Origins (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age: Awakening Dragon Age 2 (Base and DLCs) Dragon Age: The Last Court Dragon Age: Inquisition (Base, DLCs + Multiplayer) Dragon Age Tabletop RPG Core Rulebook Dragon Age Tabletop RPG: Blood in Ferelden Dragon Age Tabletop RPG: Game Master's Kit: Buried Past

World of Thedas Vol. 1 World of Thedas Vol. 2 Dragon Age: The Stolen Throne Dragon Age: The Calling Dragon Age: The Masked Empire Dragon Age: Last Flight Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights Short Story: Paper and Steel Short Story: Paying the Ferryman

DAO Codex Entry: Feast Day Fish Codex Entry: History of Soldier’s Peak: Chapter 3 Codex Entry: In Praise of the Humble Nug

Codex Entry: A Tattered Shopping List

Item: Abyssal Peach Item: Brandy Item: Carnal, 8:69 Blessed Item: Mosswine Item: Rare Antivan Brandy (Gift) Item: Sugar Cake Item: Sun Blonde Vint-1 Item: Wedge of Destiny Item: West Hill Brandy

DAII Item: Dragon’s Blood

DAI Codex Entry: On Avvar Cuisine Codex Entry: Bottles of Thedas Codex Entry: The City of Starkhaven Codex Entry: La Pomme Vie et More Codex Entry: Mad Emperor Reville Codex Entry: Plant vs. Corpses Codex Entry: Ram Codex Entry: A Scholar's Journal Codex Entry: Spindleweed Codex Entry: Surviving the Western Approach Codex Entry: Waterlogged Diary Note: Betta's Travel Journal Note: The Gilded Horn's Drink List Note: Knight-Captain's Orders Note: A Note from the Skyhold Kitchen Note: The Rusted Horn's Menu Note: Scribbled Note Wartable Mission: Inspire Wartable Mission: Plant Crystal in Venatori Headquarters

Last Court Cards Atop the Tower of Lights The Elegant Abbess Flames of Freedom The Glassblowers' Anger Go Hunting Good Neighbor The Next Course The Purveyors of Tea Thieves! An Unofficial Meeting The Wyvern is Cornered

Like this stuff? Wanna support the blog? You can check out my ko-fi.

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abookishdreamer · 11 months

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Character Intro: Thrasos (Kingdom of Ichor)

Nicknames- Hellraiser by his mother

Tank by his friends

Age- 12 (immortal)

Location- Sparta, Olympius

Personality- He's an athletic active young man who's quite the risk taker- almost never passing up a bet or dare! He prefers to keep his social circle small, relegated to family & close friends.

He has the standard abilities of a god except shapeshifting. As the god of boldness, insolence, recklessness, & courage his other powers/abilities include courage inducement (temporarily in others), having an innate sense of a person's greatest fear, heartbeat detection, fear immunity, enhanced touch (hypertactility), and even unbreaking sight (can go for long periods of time without blinking).

Thrasos is the youngest child and only son to Atë (goddess of mischief, ruin, blind folly, delusion, & downfall of heroes). He has two older sisters- Lyssa (goddess of rage & frenzy) and Mania (goddess of insanity).

He lives with his mom at their loft apartment in the state of Sparta. His bedroom walls are covered almost entirely with posters of his favorite sports teams, bands, & deities in the pantheon. Thrasos' brand new drum set is at the far corner of his room with various candy wrappers strewn about. He has a single pet- his companion, a dragon named Thorn. He has yellow and brown scales, bright green eyes, & winding horns that remind Thrasos of bare tree branches. The dragon hatched some time after Thrasos' third birthday, so they have an undeniable bond. Thorn is usually his mode of transportation (especially to school which is in New Olympus). Thrasos loves the feeling of riding on dragonback whether it's on his custom made dragon saddle or even bareback (which he did a handful of times)!

Thrasos has ADHD (attention deficit-hyperactivity disorder). He think it was inevitable, considering his start in life. He was born after the pregnancy lasted three weeks! He likes to think that during that time, he was always moving around in his mother's womb doing backflips & headstands. He's one of the few cases in the pantheon with early heightened development- like being able to crawl while barely being a month old, walking at six months, and saying his first words before his first birthday! He sometimes takes medication to help with his attention & focusing, but he mainly uses behavioral therapy.

His favorite go-to drink is the mega twisted flavor of the OmegaDash energy drink! He also likes fruit punch, blue raspberry flavored soda, chocolate root beer milkshakes, and black cherry cola.

As much as Thrasos likes living in Sparta, he finds black broth (their most popular delicacy) to be unappealing. No amount of wagers, bets, or dares would ever make him eat a morsel.

He has a close relationship with his mom. He appreaciates the fact that she lets him decompress in his own way whenever he's stressed out or feeling overwhelmed. They often ride their dragons together and they're HUGE fans of monster truck rallies!

Thrasos has a good relationship with his older sisters, hanging out with them whenever there's a chance to. He likes playing with Lyssa's dogs (with Machete being his best dog pal). Thrasos has traveled to the Underworld to visit Mania- with ice hockey being the main activity for them. He was once dared to procure some Stygian Ice for her which she used to make ultra frozen pomegranate slushies, which gave Thrasos the most bone chilling brain freeze ever!

The Hearthside Diner is a frequent stop for him for a go-to order of a spicy breakfast gyro with a side of home fries. More often than not, his usual go-to breakfast is either a frosted granola bar or a bowl of sugary cereal (his favorite being Grains of Olympus).

Even though he has a parent, Thrasos feels like his mom's longtime girlfriend Limos (goddess of starvation & famine) fills the paternal role in his life. He likes her no-nonsense attitude, the fact that she helps out with his homework, and the other activities they do together when she stays over. Thrasos especially likes the gift she gave him for his 11th birthday- a dragon style ring forged from Stygian Iron! He wears it often on his pointer finger!

His favorite snack are spicy cheesy jalapeño flavored chips!

One of his favorite sweet treats are the assorted "candy" doughnuts from Hollyhock's Bakery- one in particular being the vanilla frosted doughnut topped with popping rock candy, chocolate covered candy pieces, & mini sour blueberry gummy bears!

Thrasos is currently on break from school. His two favorite classes are gym and earth science. He thinks his earth science teacher Athos (one of The Ourea) is awesome! He's also looking forward to an upcoming class trip to the state of Thrace. Thrasos' friend group includes Thespios (god of acting); sometimes they race their dragons afterschool, a cyclops named Cleon, & Deucalion (Deuce). The two of them have especially gotten close with Deuce dealing with his father's punishment and his step-mother's very public mental breakdown. Thrasos finds the teasing and sarcastic remarks from some of the other students to be annoying. An idea that's been shared back & forth is for them to sneak into the Underworld where Prometheus is being held so Deuce can see him, but a serious concrete plan hasn't been made. Thrasos doesn't really talk with the other godly students in his grade, but thinks that Epidotes (god of purity) has no idea what the concept of fun means and that Calocagathia (Aggie) (goddess of nobility & goodness) is the smartest kid in their entire grade.

Sometimes afterschool he'll spend some time at a trampoline park. He recently signed up for breakdancing classes at Terpischore's dance studio!

His favorite basketball team is the Sparta Spears!

In the pantheon Thrasos admires Horme (god of energy), Epimetheus (Titan god of afterthought), the messenger god Hermes, and Koros (god of surfiet & disdain); especially his punk rock band Dissonance Machine. He has no idea who'll be his upcoming mentor. Outside of school Thrasos sometimes talks to Deuce's little sister Aidos (goddess of shame, modesty, humility, & respect).

He's not looking forward to the boy/girl party he's gonna host in a few months. His mom wants him to "expand his social horizons."

Thrasos' go-to thing from Olympic Chef is the double cheeseburger (with extra feta cheese) and loaded gyro fries!

In his free time he enjoys a wide range of activities like cloud surfing, lava surfing, reading (comic books), skateboarding, roller blading, mountain climbing, watching TV, listening to music, football (soccer), basketball, ice hockey, swimming, playing video games, baseball, and doing graffiti art!

His all time favorite meal (which is mom makes) is wild boar steak with spicy roasted potatoes.

"Underestimate me. That'll be fun."

#my oc #my oc character #my character #oc character #oc intro #character intro #oc introduction #character introduction #modern greek gods #modern greek mythology #greek myth retellings #greek gods #greek mythology #greek pantheon

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giles26willadsen · 2 years

Text

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dinuhsoar · 2 years

Text

𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐚 | 𝐠.𝐫.

- geralt x f!reader

warnings: nivellen tbh, mentions of rape, protective geralt, murder (but not really?), season two spoilers (heavy), potential typos, the reader and geralt aren't together, let me know if I missed anything

*please read all warnings before continuing*

synopsis: you and geralt discover nivellen's secret

artifact citation: when I say this is heavy on spoilers, I mean it. It's almost down to the letter. There are some differences in this compared to the episode, but only because I couldn't recall what was said and I wasn't about to go back and watch the episode due to how short the scenes eventually got. on another note, yuanfen, my loki series, will have it's first chapter published on the 31st, as this has been in my drafts for a while and I wanted to dispose of it. on a separate note, I do not own this plot. it's basically one of the episodes but just written.

you let out a shiver as you sat on roach, you and geralt looking into a deserted town.

"there are no barking dogs," you heard geralt mutter, yellow eyes looking in your own. you nodded, shifting in your saddle as geralt decided then to get on his horse.

"I know of a place where we can go." you looked back at the witcher, only to feel him kick roach in the sides, his eyes darting from left and right, up and down.

"stop staring, girl."

so you did.

not long after, you and the witcher saw a house in the distance, and geralt let out a hum of approval. "an old friend lives here," was all he said as he jumped off roach. "stay on roach."

not a second later, the very house before you started fluttering it's shutters, roach tossing her head back, side stepping. you gripped at the reins, hands pulling back on the black leather.

but then everything stopped and you sighed, relaxing against the mare. but geralt knew better than to let his guard down, and when a mutated man whom resembled a warthog leaped out the door and onto geralt, you couldn't help but cry out to him.

geralt looked up at you, afraid something hurt you, but when he realized you were safe, he looked back into the eyes of the man below him.

"it's just me! nivellen!"

geralt lowered the dagger from his friends neck, eyeing him. "you've changed?"

"I can say the same for you."

nivellen looked at you, a small growl leaving from geralt as he got up, pulling the man to his feet, grabbing roach by the reins to lead her and you to the small stable on the property.

"come inside when you're done," said nivellen.

geralt took you and roach to the stable, grabbing you by the hips to set you down before him, his height towering over you. you watched as he tied up the mare, patting her on the neck.

you and geralt walked inside together, a hum leaving his throat as he saw nivellen waiting for them.

"would you like a hot bath?" he asked.

you smiled at him, nodding your head, but geralt spoke for you. "no."

"yes." you stated glancing behind your shoulder, rolling your eyes as the witcher had grumbled. "I would like one, thank you nivellen."

suddenly, at the whisk of his hand, a tub dropped from seemingly nowhere, the water spilling out at the sides, steam erupting into the air. you started forward, and geralt had turned to take his leave. but geralt should have paid attention to the way his friend kept his eyes on you as you removed your straps.

nivellen turned then, blinking. he walked alongside the witcher, making his way to the banquet hall. there, the two sat, waiting for you before they ate.

meanwhile, you looked around the room. it was as if the house were alive. what sounded like mice running in the walls made the house creek. you grew nervous, a voice in your head telling you to call for geralt. he could protect you. he always does. but you didn't want to bother him. he's seeing an old friend and there was probably much to catch up on.

you went under the water again, getting the soap put of your hair, only for your eyes to rest upon a white dress. it looked beautiful yet old at the same time. nonetheless, compared to your other close which were rags, you were thankful.

stepping out of the tub, you reached for the woolen towel nearby, drying off and slipping on the dress. it fit you just right, and you smiled softly to yourself.

leaving the room, you made your way to where the witcher and nivellen sat, joining them. "thank you, nivellen. for the dress. it's lovely." nivellen locked his eyes onto your body, his eyes growing darker.

"why of course!"

you sat down finally, looking over to geralt, a small smile displayed in his direction. he hummed at you, yellow eyes glancing over at his friend. he noticed how nivellen looked at you, and his jaw set tight.

"so, let's eat!" the warthog shouted, fingers waving in the air, food dropping onto the table, some falling onto the floor. you looked over at geralt, smiling sweetly towards him.

you honestly loved geralt to death. literally. he's saved you countless of times, and each time you were more grateful than the last. he's been a friend to you, and though you loved the witcher, you knew he was incapable of feeling the same. and that's why you were no more than a friend to him as he was to you.

"how'd you get like that?" geralt had asked, looking at nivellen.

"in front of the girl?" he'd asked, eyes looking at you.

"she can handle it, nivellen."

you looked at the witcher, head resting in your hands as you then looked at nivellen. nivellen had struggled to find a starting point, grunting and sighing as he had lost his words for a second.

but you weren't even paying him any attention. you kept looking at geralt as he seemed to, for once, relax. he felt safe here and so should you.

you don't remember hearing much, really. you only heard something about mushrooms and a temple, but you thought nothing of it. you felt bad for the poor man; forced to live alone and no matter how many times he's tried to end his life because of it, he just kept coming back. you wondered how nivellen could be alone for so long. you started to grow insane before meeting geralt, but sometimes even then did you feel lonely.

the witcher had touched your shoulder as he noticed you deep in thought. "we're moving into another room, now." you nodded your head, taking in his deep voice.

you gathered yours and their dishes, geralt looking back at you as you set them in the tub. he thought you were beautiful then. but it pained him how he wasn't able to give you, literally, anything. that dress? it'll cost him an army of monsters to slay, and even then, would that be enough? his love? he couldn't give you that. no, for if a witcher grew weak in the heart and mind, he'd be nothing of value.

you turned on your heel, giving geralt a small smile as you gave his shoulder a soft, weak to geralt, poke. "thanks for waiting on me, witcher." you walked forward, hearing his clossal steps behind you, a short 'hmm' leaving his throat.

you huffed as you noticed only two chairs in the new room, which you've assumed was nivellen's living quarters based on how clean it was compared to the other parts of the house you've seen. he had taken claim of the chair on the left, and you knew geralt needed the comfort of a chair, his back tighter than princesses' corset. you rolled your eyes but sat between both men so to hear them equally.

over the next couple of minutes, you've been feeling nivellen poke his foot into your side. it wasn't hard, it was more than likely an accident due to him laughing hard and meaningful. but when his hand kept toughing your shoulder multiple times, you inched closer to geralt, your hands either messing your dress or your own fingers.

truth be told, you didn't know nivellen. yeah, he can tell a story. but why did you feel like the stories were just as twisted and bent like the songs 'based' off of geralt?

geralt seemed to notice the way you inched closer to him. you've started in the middle between the men, but you were more than halfway on geralt's side of the room, per se. geralt touched your shoulder, your eyes darting to his in a matter of seconds. he shushed nivellen, leaning so that he was close to your ear.

"go to bed, y/n."

you knew he was only telling you so that you'd be away from nivellen, but you weren't tired. and as the house creaked again like it did earlier, you tensed, shaking your head at geralt.

"do you have a cat, nivellen?" you asked, facing him.

"yes, in fact I do. I call her vereena. she's a bit shy though, I must warn." nivellen stated, his hands fiddling with one another. he stood, looking into a corner.

geralt stood also and you followed suit, only for him to shake his head. "I'm going to scout the place. stay indoors, girl."

you nodded your head, watching as he walked off.

"would you like to hear a story, y/n?"

"sure."

elsewhere, geralt walked outside of the house and past the heavy doors at the edge of the property, and he noticed footprints. it put him on edge, because, clearly he wasn't safe here; you weren't safe here. and against his better judgement, he kept pressing forward instead of turning back to the house to you. nivellen had made you uncomfortable multiple times, but he couldn't think of a reason why. his friend was nice and caring and even offered a place to rest their heads.

geralt grumbled, shaking his head to get back on track. he hated how the woman plagued his thoughts. he reached the town beneath the hill and the house that sat on top of it. he grew suspicious as he kicked the mare forward through the doors, hoping off upon seeing a corpse. maybe it was the snow and cold that preserved the body, but it looked almost fresh. he saw how the foot imprints stopped close to the body, his feverish yellow eyes looking into the sky. a bruxa.

back at the house, you thrashed in your bed. nivellen told you a tale of two lovers, and you eventually had fallen asleep in the sheets. but even a tale of love couldn't cure your nightmares.

you awoke when you felt a touch on your hand. you felt like screaming out for geralt, he'd hear you, but you knew he was out scouting the place. you moved upwards in your bed, breath hitching as the girl moved closer to you.

"do not worry. I will not hurt you."

"who are you?"

"vereena, and you?"

"y/n. nivellen said you were a cat?"

you watched as the girl tilted her head to the side, her eyes wide and eyebrows knitted.

"that man you were with earlier, who is he?"

"a friend. he kills monsters. are you a monster?"

vereena sat up straight, head and arm twitching as she looked down at you.

as a few minutes passed, you don't remember much of what was said. it wasn't a long encounter, but you do remember that the girl reached for your hand, kissing it.

meanwhile, geralt tied roach to the stable post, giving the mare a pat on her muscled neck. he walked in through the doors, walking straight to your bedroom. he hated himself for leaving you here.

you jumped awake again, geralt's eyes giving you a onceover. you were safe, good.

"geralt? what's happening?"

you noticed how he was on edge, his hand griping his sword in a vicelike grip. he turned his back to you, raising something to his lips.

"there's a bruxa in the house."

it was then that the witcher downed one of his potions. you jumped out of bed, walking towards geralt.

"a what?"

geralt hummed at you. "go wait by roach. if I tell you to run, you run."

"geralt?"

suddenly, geralt turned towards you, his eyes pitch black. you wondered if he could see past the dark barrier between his and your eyes. nonetheless, you took a step away from witcher. having to never seen him like this before, it honestly scared you. he scared you.

"do you understand, y/n?"

you nodded your head, running past geralt as your shoulders touched. you ran out the door and towards roach, standing by her.

in the house, geralt walked down the corridor, stopping in front of nivellen's room. he knew that the bruxa was in there. but before he could do anything, the doors flew open and he was pinned against the wall by the scream that left the females mouth.

geralt was able to break free, but the bruxa pinned him, her blood hungry jaws wanting his neck. but he stabbed her swifty, throwing the girl out the window.

you turned your head fast, no doubt in your mind that you'll now have whiplash. you watched as geralt swung his sword at vereena, the girl morphing into what looked like an oversized bat.

you made quick work at undoing the reins hitched to the post, grabbing them and tossing the black leather over the mares head. if geralt said to run, then you would.

"geralt," you said lowly, watching as the bruxa turned midair, diving low behind geralt. to say that it was a close call, was an understatement. it was nail-biting close as geralt lowered his upper body to bend, his sword pointed upwards as the bruxa screeched out in pain as she fell to the ground.

you rushed over, tossing your cloak over vereena's bare body. you felt bad for her. it was more than likely not her fault that she was this way. she couldn't help it.

"get away y/n!" geralt growled out.

you jumped away from vereena, only to be pulled back into her as she grabbed at your wrist, nails biting into the skin.

your whine was enough to drive geralt insane. his eyes may be black, but if he could see at all, he was seeing red.

"leave us alone and I won't hurt you!" yelled vereena, her hands adjusting so to have a better grip on you.

geralt stopped moving. what you found funny was that he was as still as the statues surrounding him.

suddenly, just as geralt drew up a blank to save you, vereena screeched out, a yell which pained your ears. you stumbled away from her, your eyes lingering on the wooden stick that was through her middle. you were going to be sick.

you watched the scene unfold as she slid her body down the pole, her neck and arms turning completely around. geralt made quick to slice her head off, and you watched as everything was set ablaze.

you walked over to the witcher, hearing him say something about blood and love, nivellen cutting him off and finishing his statement.

he was now back to normal, something which should have made him feel happy, thankful even. but no.

"what did you do!?" he shouted, geralt cocking his head in confusion.

but you didn't seem to pay any attention to geralt as your heart seemed to stop.

"I lied, geralt. I didn't trash the temple, that's not why I'm like this. I raped the priestess."

you backed away from nivellen, not that you were close to begin with, geralt stepping slightly before you, blocking you from nivellen's view.

"geralt, please! I can't live like this. kill me now." nivellen pleaded as geralt turned away, taking his leave. you ran towards roach, jumping in the saddle and kicking her to wait at the door.

"you're mortal now. do it yourself."

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt fanfic #geralt x y/n #geralt imagine #geralt x f!reader #ruth writes #protective geralt #i love him #the witcher #witcher fanfiction #witcher netflix #witcher geralt #witcher imagine #witcher season two spoilers

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justavulcan · 3 years

Text

Make Your Tieflings Fiendish (3)

The final part of the project, for now. Mordenkainen’s Tome of Foes gave us a huge assortment of fiends to work with, so what if your grandparent was one of them? I’m leaving off the demon lords and unique or archdevils on the basis of their being unique individuals, but that still leaves an absolute bestiary’s worth. So, what if your fiendish grandparent was a…

Akilith Demon? You’re either weedy and thin or absolutely massive, bulky like you grew to fill the space around you. Your skin looks greenish and mossy somehow, and always seems to glisten with a thin sheen of sweat that leaves a sharp chemical smell in the air. If you’re lucky you’re proportioned like the mortal side; if not, your limbs might be different lengths as though they grew until they couldn’t fit. Your eyes are likely stark red, and you may have a useless extra one or two spotted about.

Armanite Demon? You might be easily mistaken for a centaur; if you are, your lower body is tawny and hardy, and your hooves seep with something dark and ichorous; you may or may not leave a trail wherever you trot. If you haven’t your grandparent’s hindquarters, your legs are certainly still equine, powerful and muscled through the thigh and ending in a dark hoof. Your horns curve out from your temples and back to meet near the crown of your head.

Bulezau Demon? Your face is likely goatlike, with some mix of long pointed ears, horizontal pupils, a thick ruff about your neck, and a billy’s beard and horns. You’re wiry no matter your strength, and your cloven hooved feet find natural purchase on sheer surfaces. If you got the worst of your grandparent, you’re given to taking ill, and often show the marks of some illness or other- boils, scars, pox marks, and other such features mar your greyish, pallid skin.

Dybbuk Demon? You’ve the look of a rotting corpse about you, or worse show your grandparent’s true face. If you’ve the corpse, you look dead walking, bloated or shriveled to nothing like a body well on its way to decomposition, with the coloration to match. If you were less lucky, you look like your grandparent in their own form- a ghastly pallor tints your skin, which might even be translucent to show the working parts beneath. Your hair is long and grows thin and tangled, forming natural dreadlocks or tendrils. You’re far too flexible in either case, with hypermobile joints all over your body.

Maurezhi Demon? Your skin hangs slightly loose on your frame, as if it were too large for you. While this is strange to look upon at rest, you can pull and contort it into shape, giving you a fair range of flexibility with your features. Your teeth are hard to hide, though; stout, bone-cracking things, and too many for your mortal parent’s side to account.

Molydeus Demon? You tower over your mortal parents’ kind, with skin the red of fresh blood or new red earth, and you’re solidly built, thick through the trunk, thighs, and shoulders. Below the neck, you’ve little hair; above it, your face is nearly hidden behind a thick gray wolf’s coat of fur, and you might even have the snout and nose to go with it. The beginnings of a second head sprouts from one collarbone- either the barest peek of a snake’s snout, or the whole first foot of a serpent body, long enough to wear tied as a necklace and withered to uselessness.

Nabassu Demon? Your inky-black skin is scaly and lustrous like an oil slick. Glowing yellow eyes and short horned nubs leave little doubt of your heritage, and your shoulders are thick with the muscle to support the vestigial wings or remains thereof. You have a hunger in you for something hard to name, and demons and some other tieflings feel a momentary chill looking upon your face.

Rutterkin Demon? You were a mistake, and you look it. While your body isn’t as twisted, random, and nonsensical as your ancestor’s, it’s still just wrong to look at- arms with extra joints, mismatched limbs, odd lumps and twists in your skin and bone, and misplaced fingers, teeth, nails, and non-functioning eyes tell the tale of your abyssal heritage loudly. You grow little hair, and your skin varies wildly in color across your body, as if your sculptor couldn’t decide what would be the most fitting tone.

Sibriex Demon? Your head is the best-developed part of you, and that’s not a good thing. Your mouth is uneven, your nose crooked, and your eyes heterochromatic if they’re not even more distinctly differentiated by mismatched size, shape, or pupil type. Bloated and misshapen, you bear the marks on your flesh of chains that you’ve never worn. Boils, spurs, discolorations, and random patches of thick, coarse hair litter your whole body randomly, and below the neck your body feels like an afterthought, added on after the artist’s work was done on your head. Fused fingers and toes, uneven limb lengths, loose flaps of skin, misplaced bits of nail or scale, and a generally varying skin color mean that even if you have siblings of the same ancestor, you look little alike.

Wastrilith Demon? Your most striking feature are the spined fins sprouting from your head like a lionfish in place of hair. They’re scattered across your body, down your spine especially and perhaps at your elbows and knees. Your skin is hairless, scaly and a sick lavender-maroon shade, and your hands have thick yellow nails that run to claws if you’re not careful to keep them trimmed. You might have webbed hands or fused fingers. You’re built long and lithe, with bulky back muscles and shoulders that make you a natural swimmer.

Abishai Devil? You could be mistaken for chromatic dragonborn, but your arms are too long, almost to your knees, and you’re far too lean to be a full-blood dragonborn. You have bulky back muscles as though you were meant to have wings, but if you do, they’re useless for flight, and mostly get in the way. Your tail, if you have one, is long and active. Rather than proper hair, you might have a head full of tendrils forming a messy mop about your shoulders.

Amnizu Devil? Your rubbery pea-soup green skin is the greatest mark of your ancestry. Your mouth is perhaps a bit wide for your mortal parent’s side, and you can’t grow any hair at all, but otherwise you could easily be mistaken for any other mortal. It’s your bearing that sets you apart- you radiate authority like someone in a position of power, and your demeanor seems effortlessly, seemingly supernaturally charming.

Merregon Devil? You’re built like a soldier, tall and sturdy with a straight spine and dark gray skin. Your face is oddly ill-defined, as though someone didn’t care to give you real facial features, but it sits well because you have an instinctive urge to cover your face. Your voice is soft and may be ill-used- your grandparent’s blood leaves you with a distinctly nonverbal tendency for communication.

Narzugon Devil? You were born to the saddle, and your body tells the story ably. You’re small and light like a jockey, and you likely have bow legs and have since you were born. Your skin is an ashen color and your eyes the red of flame, and if you’ve a tail or horns, they’re stubby and ill-defined. When you ride, you draw the eye, a subtle hint of your grandparent’s command.

Nupperibo Devil? Your grandparent did you few favors by managing to reproduce. Your head is tiny in proportion to your body, and you have the kind of broad, clumsy bone structure that makes it difficult to move. Flies and other buzzing insects find you appealing, and so you are constantly bothered by them. You’re nearsighted, hard of hearing, or both, but your senses of smell and taste are sharp as a blade, which helps you fill your endless hunger.

Orthon Devil? You are built like a barrel, with a thick torso and matching arms and legs- indeed, you are almost as wide as you are tall, with thick, elephantine legs and arms like tree trunks. Your skin is ashen or sallow but basically a normal human skin tone, and you grow little hair. Your most dominating facial feature is your tusks- your lower canines are long enough to protrude from your jaw when your mouth is closed, and you have an underbite.

Howler? Your face is fairly skeletal; naturally lighter skin covers your face, making your eyes and mouth stand out. Your eyes are like as not black through the sclera and red in the iris. Your throat is a dark, sullen red and you may even have a throat pouch you can use to make your voice really boom or carry. The rest of you is top-heavy, with stout shoulders, a narrow waist, powerful thighs, and a short, naked tail it’s best to wear wrapped around your waist. You’ve no hair, but may have a line of thin spines from the crown of your head down your back.

Canoloth Yugoloth? Your features are fairly bestial, from back-bent knees like a dog’s to a distinct snout and thick jaw full of stout, sharp teeth. Your most distinct feature is your tongue, which is at least a foot long and is covered in small thorny protrusions; your sense of taste is supernaturally acute. Your skin is stark crimson, a muddy yellow, or somewhere in between. Built like a bulldog, with a thick neck, stout shoulders, and barrel-like body, you’re not large so much as you are wide, almost as wide as tall.

Dhergoloth Yugoloth? You have more arms than you ought to. Not working ones, mind, your fiendish blood doesn’t run strong enough for that, so arms three through five are an encumbrance rather than a blessing, and must be worn under clothes or lopped off to keep them out of the way. Your shoulders and torso are oddly shaped to account for the extras, sort of a lumpy, squashed pentagram. Your skin’s an olive-green color and faintly iridescent if not chitinous. While you’ve no horns and little hair, hiding your pure red compound eyes is a challenge. Thankfully you probably didn’t end up with mandibles.

Hydroloth Yugoloth? Your skin is pebbled and rough like a toad’s, and that same look marks your face, which is wide and set on a neck that seems too short and wide. The effect overall is that you have no neck, and your wide mouth and broadly-set eyes add to the toad-like look. Your fingers and toes are webbed and long, and your thighs are thick as tree trunks to spur long jumps. Your memory is excellent, bordering on photographic, and you sometimes wake from dreams of lying on the bottom of a dark river, feeling comforted.

Merrenoloth Yugoloth? You’re a gaunt one, and pale too. Your face is sunken, with hollow cheeks, deep-set eyes, and drawn lips, giving you a profoundly skeletal look. If you grow hair, it’s only around the sides, never on the top of your head, although a long but thin moustache or beard grows naturally. You never get seasick, and the feel of planks under your feet, swaying gently with current or tide, feels more natural than the motionlessness of solid ground.

Oinoloth Yugoloth? Your skin, already an unhealthy bruise color, is often pocked with boils or buboes, which while harmless to you are unsettling to others. You otherwise always seem ill somehow, with a persistent cough, constant sweat, or low fever. You have horns that curl out and forward slightly from your temples, and your nails are long and a natural crimson color- they also grow like weeds, forcing you to chew or clip them constantly.

Yagnoloth Yugoloth? You’re distinctly lopsided to look at- the fact of the matter is that one arm is much larger and stronger than the other. Curiously, it’s not the one you use for writing- that hand is small and delicate, slender for fine work like writing contracts. Whatever the case, your shoulder and pectoral on the larger side are similarly bulkier, which may lend your torso a bit of an unnatural twist.

See the original post here and the second post here.

#tiefling #tieflings #fiends #demons #devils #yugoloths #others #D&D #Dungeons and Dragons #Character Designs #Character Ideas #Fiendlings #Planescape #make your tieflings look like freaks #not just technicolor horned people #YOU COWARDS #give me your non-human tieflings #play games as the super long-tongued dude and have to explain that the guard dog instincts come from your grandparent on your dad's side #worldbuilding

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religion-is-a-mental-illness · 2 years

Photo

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Bukhari/USC-MSA/Volume-4/Book-54/Hadith-448/

Narrated Abu Talha:

I heard Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) saying; "Angels (of Mercy) do not enter a house wherein there is a dog or a picture of a living creature (a human being or an animal).

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Bukhari/USC-MSA/Volume-4/Book-54/Hadith-450/

Narrated Salim's father:

Once Gabriel promised the Prophet (that he would visit him, but Gabriel did not come) and later on he said, "We, angels, do not enter a house which contains a picture or a dog."

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Muslim/USC-MSA/Book-24/Hadith-5277/

Abu Huraira reported Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) as saying:

Angels do not accompany the travellers who have with them a dog and a bell.

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Muslim/USC-MSA/Book-24/Hadith-5248/

Maimuna reported that one morning Allah's Messenger (ﷺ) was silent with grief. Maimuna said:

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Bukhari/USC-MSA/Volume-1/Book-9/Hadith-490/

Narrated `Aisha:

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Bukhari/USC-MSA/Volume-1/Book-9/Hadith-493/

Narrated `Aisha:

The things which annul prayer were mentioned before me (and those were): a dog, a donkey and a woman. I said, "You have compared us (women) to donkeys and dogs. By Allah! I saw the Prophet (ﷺ) praying while I used to lie in (my) bed between him and the Qibla. Whenever I was in need of something, I disliked to sit and trouble the Prophet. So, I would slip away by the side of his feet."

https://quranx.com/Hadith/Muslim/USC-MSA/Book-4/Hadith-1032

Abu Dharr reported:

https://quranx.com/Hadith/IbnMajah/DarusSalam/Volume-2/Book-5/Hadith-952

It was narrated from ‘Abdullah bin Samit from Abu Dharr, that the Prophet (ﷺ) said:

“The prayer is severed by a woman, a donkey, and a black dog, if there is not something like the handle of a saddle in front of a man.�� I (‘Abdullah) said: “What is wrong with a black dog and not a red one?” He (Abu Dharr) said: ‘I asked the Messenger of Allah (ﷺ) the same question, and he said: “The black dog is a Shaitan (satan).”

You need know nothing else about Islam in order to reject it.

Dogs not gods.

Every.

Time.

#islam #muhammad #prophet muhammad #black dogs #black dog #dog #dogs not gods #superstition #islamic stupidity #religion #bukhari #sahih bukhari #muslim #sahih muslim #ibn majah #sunan ibn majah #religion is a mental illness

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ladydaemon · 3 years

Note

ayooooo can i get some jealous nikolai please!!!! like seeing you talking to someone else and getting all angry only to admit he really wants ur attention ! pls and thank u <3333

A/N: This is set in Siege and Storm (i think lol it's been awhile) so spoilers for that. Also, this is technically Sturmhond x reader but we aren't going to talk about that. This is probably not what you wanted and honestly it's so short I hate it, sorry in advance.

Summary: One of the Darkling's Grisha flirts with you, only for a pissed privateer to intervene.

Warnings: swearing, um insecure nikolai but not really, also beware i haven't read rule of wolves yet sooo

"Herring is fucking delicious."

"We can't be friends anymore."

"Bold of you to assume we were friends in the first place."

"Honestly, fuck you, Tamar," Y/N huffed, scowling at the woman. First, there was the Darkling demanding passage back to Ravka with his prisoners and prissy Grisha, and now her best friend telling her she liked the one food she despised?

Betrayal of the worst kind.

Y/N turned back to the deck of the ship, watching with a sort of disgusted curiosity at the newcomers on their ship. They're like parrots, she thought. Brightly colored, virtually useless, and they don't stop talking.

The Grisha were doing nothing - walking around, trying to look important and above everyone else, and pestering the crew with questions like, when are we getting there? why is it taking so long? wait, there isn't a hairdresser on board?

"Oh, look at him. What, did he have a rebellious phase as a teenager and didn't grow out of it?" Tamar's voice brought her out of her thoughts, pulling them towards the Darkling. Y/N had to admit, Tamar was right - he was staring pensively out at the ocean, black cape billowing around him, and he generally looked very much like he was brooding.

"An hour of deck-swabbing says the girl down there is his ex," she snorted, swinging her legs over the edge of the boat. It was one of those days where the seas were calm and the breeze was light, and only a couple people were needed to keep the boat moving. Y/N and Tamar were enjoying the free time while it lasted.

"If you think I'm making that bet you are out of your mind. I agree completely."

Y/N hummed, enjoying the sea breeze for a bit before a small cough made her look up to see a broad-shouldered man in a blue kefta with red embroidery standing beside her. "May I sit with you ladies?"

It was clear he wasn't asking, and Tamar and Y/N exchanged an amused glance. "Sure."

The man settled gracefully next to Y/N, kefta pleated like a schoolgirl's around him. Y/N stifled a giggle. It was silent for a beat before she and Tamar resumed their argument, bickering and laughing.

The Grisha put his hand on her thigh.

Both Y/N and Tamar froze for half a second. Tamar raised an eyebrow, a silent question, but Y/N shook her head, ever so slightly. She wanted to just how long the poor man would last.

Y/N turned to face the Grisha, a honeyed smile on her face. "Yes?"

He was obviously pleased that she had recognized him, and took it as his chance to speak, though his hand never left her thigh. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. My name is Aaron."

"Y/N."

Aaron began to strike up some odd conversation that she barely payed attention to, grinning in a way that he probably thought was flirtatious. He was utterly oblivious to the rest of the crew noticing and snickering, placing bets on when Nikolai would intervene.

A cold, tight voice interrupted Aaron midsentence. "I suggest you take your hand off of my commander's thigh before I cut it off. We wouldn't want any mini Y/Ns running around now, would we?"

"A truly terrifying thought," Tamar agreed.

Y/N looked up to see one Nikolai Lantsov glaring at Aaron, who looked up at him in surprise.

Well, it wasn't really Nikolai Lantsov - this version of him was red-haired and green-eyed, with a weirdly-shaped face and a gaudy teal peacoat covering an equally gaudy yellow tunic. This was Sturmhond, privateer and sailor, not Nikolai, prince and royal.

It really came to no surprise that Aaron decided that he was of a higher status and that she was his for the taking. He stood up, chest-to-chest with Nikolai. "And why should I, thief?"

"Privateer, actually," Nikolai corrected smoothly, and if you hadn't known him, you wouldn't have seen the barely leashed anger, the fury in his eyes. "And because you spoiled brats don't know how to sail a paper boat, let alone a ship such as this. Good luck getting back to Ravka without my crew's help."

Aaron bristled, but Nikolai had the upper hand in the squabble, and everyone knew it. The Inferni scowled and walked away as Nikolai sat down next to the woman in question. To anyone else, he looked casual and in control, but his eyes were narrowed and his fists were slightly clenched and his breathing was far heavier than it should be.

Y/N sighed.

"Well, come on then," she grunted, pulling herself up and offering a hand to him. "Let's go to your room so you can all that teenage boy angst out."

He huffed, stuck his tongue out, but took her hand (not letting go, a fact noticed by Aaron, who whitened in understanding) and followed her belowdecks to his spacious office-slash-bedroom.

"Now, how about you let out all your-" Y/N began, starting to turn around – and stopping halfway there because she was being hugged from behind by one teddy-bear of a man.

"Pay attention to me, please," he whined softly, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

She stifled a giggle, reaching over her head to pat his hair. "Your coat is gaudy, your hair is too red, and your face looks like a donkey's ass."

Nikolai huffed a breath, the warm air tickling her skin. "If you insist on being stubborn-"

"I'm not finished-"

"Please?" His voice was almost childlike, almost shy, and Y/N found herself willing to indulge him. "Tell me about Novyi Zem again."

Ah. Honestly, it was a surprise that she hadn't expected it.

Y/N had grown up in Novyi Zem - she was the daughter of two farmers, and had grown up in the fields. Nikolai, being royal, was utterly fascinated by. He wanted to know how the plows worked (and how he could make them better), how the crops were rotated (so he could improve the rotation), how much money a farmhand costed (so he could determine if they were overpaid or underpaid), how much money went into the pastures and barns.

But most of all, he wanted to hear about her. Her childhood friends, how she had spent her days. He would listen for hours, just soaking in tiny details that seemed irrelevant to her, and commit them to memory. He knew that she had had a dog name Foxie, she rode with an English saddle, that she had named one of the cows Milky, that she hated working in the garden but loved plowing the fields, and that her childhood crush's name was Maurin.

"What do you want me to tell you, sobachka?" Nikolai huffed slightly at the nickname. With the Darkling on their ship and the Grisha onboard, it wasn't safe to say his real name, even in the safe quarters belowdecks, so Y/N had gotten around to calling him his nickname. It felt more him than 'Sturmhond', and it was common enough name that nobody would question it.

Somehow, Nikolai had managed to maneuver them both to the one windowed seat in the room, her sitting comfortably between his legs, back resting on his chest. She had barely noticed. "Anything. Everything."

And she told him. Talked and talked until the sun began to set and their legs had fallen asleep. And he listened, following each word, each syllable with rapt attention, mouth quirking upwards when he saw the glint in her eye until she went quiet, her voice used and spent from talking so much so she just rested her head on his chest and he held and at that moment, Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka knew that he would do absolutely anything to get her attention.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov x y/n #shadow and bone #king of scars #rule of wolves #dae answers

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samstree · 3 years

Text

and the wolf was nowhere to be found (3/4)

It dawns on Jaskier that in the span of only a few days, his and Geralt’s roles have reversed.

(3.2k, lying spell/potion, cursed jaskier, blood and injury, miscommunication)

The reverse trope series masterlist.

AO3

Jaskier is perched on the edge of the bed, exactly where he woke up an eternity ago. The barmaid is filling the bathtub with one bucket of water after another, but he pays no attention.

He fidges with the splints on his arms, careful not to tug on the tendons. With how swollen his wrists are, that seems like an impossible feat.

“You alright by yourself?” the girl asks, pouring the last of the water.

“Yes.”

Jaskier lets the word out without a fight. It wouldn’t do much good anyway. The barmaid is gone within a second, and Jaskier sits alone in the inn room with both arms immobilized and a hot bath waiting.

Untying the laces is painful. Jaskier ends up with a head full of sweat by the time his doublet hits the ground, and the intricate bindings on his chemise give him an even bigger headache. His arms tremble like they are getting more broken by the minute.

It takes forever for Jaskier to strip himself nude and notice the bloodstains all the way down his neck. The wound at his nape is sewed close neatly, barely stinging by now, but with one look of himself in the mirror, Jaskier knows he’s a mess. The dried blood, added by the dark circles under his eyes, makes quite a harrowing picture.

He sinks into the hot water and rests his arms by the edge, the warmth loosening his muscles and clearing the smell of blood. Gradually, he lowers himself under the surface and feels his lungs burn.

Drowning himself would be a nice idea, if only he isn’t sticking out his forearms just so the splints don’t get soaked. Also, Geralt will blame himself even more, so there goes the thought.

Jaskier emerges and shakes away the droplets like a wet dog. He can’t get soap into his hair anyway. Sitting there in self-pity and regret is his only option.

And what right does Jaskier have to feel sorry for himself? Geralt is the one hurt by the poison he spewed, curse or not, and yet he still sewed up Jaskier’s neck and bandaged his wrists. He even ordered a bath for Jaskier when he left, for good this time, Jaskier is sure. There’s no reason for Geralt to stay after all, now that he believes Jaskier is ready to turn on him at every chance just like everybody else.

In the end, it doesn’t matter that a fae in the woods made him say it. Geralt will never be his friend again, let alone anything Jaskier has only allowed his heart to entertain in the wildest dreams.

That’s why he sucks in a surprised breath when a knock comes from the door. Jaskier bites into his lips, just to be safe.

“It’s me.” Geralt’s voice is small, tentative. “Do you need help?” After a stretch of silence, he pushes open the door slowly. “I only want to check on you—Gods, Jaskier, are you in pain?”

Is he? Perhaps soaking his wound in hot water and clutching at the tub with his broken hands isn’t that wise.

“I…” The chair screeches against the floor and Geralt settles next to Jaskier. “I know you don’t want to see me, but you can’t treat your injuries so carelessly. Here.”

Geralt picks up a bar of soap and dips it into water. The next thing Jaskier knows, gentle hands are threaded through his hair and massaging his scalp.

“I’ll just clean it and bandage it. It won’t take long.”

Jaskier looks into the unbearable sadness in those amber eyes, and hates that he’s doing this to Geralt.

“I hate that I’m doing this to you, Jaskier. I—” Geralt sighs. “I wish I could go back and leave you alone after the mountain. I’d make sure we never meet in that damned tavern in Posada if it means you won’t get hurt. Seeing you like this, I—”

Jaskier catches Geralt’s gaze, pleading and seeking, and feels the witcher still under his attention. No, he doesn’t deserve any comfort, not when he’s the one completely at blame. It’s bad enough that Geralt believed all those awful things, and Jaskier won’t ask for more.

“Jaskier?”

He looks down again and lets Geralt go back to his ministrations.

Geralt sighs with relief, and Jaskier swallows the lump in his throat.

Gods, he wants to explain, wants more than anything to erase the hurt he inflicted—if that is still possible. Letting Geralt believe those things is so fundamentally wrong. But how will Jaskier explain? With his voice gone and wrists ruined, there’s no real way of communication, and the thought of more awful things slipping out by accident is enough for Jaskier to wish for death by drowning again.

He let twenty years pass without ever admitting his love, and now he’s lost the chance.

The water trickles down Jaskier’s temple when Geralt rinses out the soap. His movement is achingly gentle, rough calluses ghosting over Jaskier’s skin only by accident. If only tenderness can kill. Tears well up again, and he’s losing control.

“Does it still hurt?” Geralt asks while retrieving a towel.

“No.”

The first preferable lie of the day.

Slowly, Jaskier turns around to let Geralt dry the curls near his forehead, his jaw clenching tight again. There’s a crease between Geralt’s brows, his amber eyes unconvinced. A large sheet is wrapped around Jaskier’s frame when he steps out of the tub.

Jaskier hisses when he tries to catch the hem of the sheet, and Geralt stills. “Let me see your wrists.”

Jaskier stares into amber eyes, silently hoping that without an answer, Geralt will leave him to his misery. He can’t afford another slip. And yet, determination creeps into Geralt’s features, and there’s no point in fighting anymore. A determined Geralt is not someone Jaskier can refuse.

“I’ll be quick,” Geralt pauses. “Please?”

It’s unfair how kind Geralt is being.

Jaskier’s shoulders sag when he pads across the room to sit on the bed, arms gathering the sheet into a heap near his midriff. He should maintain at least a shred of dignity.

Geralt sits down next to him, shoulders weighed down, looking just as tired as Jaskier feels. Still, when he unwraps Jaskier’s wrists, his motion is the most precise thing, touching just enough for practical purposes, not sparing even a brush of knuckles.

Even the slightest probing sends a sharp bolt of pain up Jaskier's arms, but it’s nothing compared to the torture of being so close to Geralt, dreading his fate—being left alone once again. This time, it’ll be permanent and he’ll deserve it.

Jaskier holds his breath, waiting for the inevitable blow that is Geralt declaring he’ll leave on first light. For reasons beyond this world, it doesn’t come. Instead, Geralt lets out a strangled sound.

Jaskier frowns. His wrists are painted with a plethora of black and purple bruises, the edges fading into green and yellow, which is just to be expected.

“You’ll never play again,” Geralt whispers. “If we don’t do anything about it.”

Does it matter? He has long since forgotten how to sing without Geralt in his songs.

“I—” Geralt wraps the gauze around the splints, one by one, tucking in the end. “I asked around just now. Word says a mage is only a day’s ride away. No one at the market was sure, but I am. Yen is only a day away. We can make it tomorrow.”

At the mention of the sorceress’s name, the press of teeth against his tongue is the last of Jaskier’s worry, and he retracts his arms instantly. Under the thin sheet, Jaskier shivers.

“Jaskier, I can’t leave you like this. You need your music when I—” Geralt shakes his head, the pursed line of his lips impossibly sad. “—When you go. Yennefer can fix it. I know you can’t stand me, but at least grant me the peace of mind. Let me know you will be all right, after.”

The dim room turns hazy in the candlelight, and Jaskeir can only curl into himself to stem the tears. He sits there for too long, not sure if he nodded. Wrapping the wound on his head doesn’t take long, and then Geralt is gone without a word.

Jaskier hugs himself tighter, and sobs into the quiet night, the aches of his body finally tiring him out.

Strapping the lute case to Roach’s saddle is a task Geralt has done hundreds of times, and yet he fidgets with the contraption in the morning, adjusting it so many times, pulling at the knot again and again.

It’s almost like he wants to stretch their journey longer.

But then, one look at Jaskier’s splinted arms and bandaged head, he smoothes a hand down Roach’s mane and deemed her ready to go.

Riding on the mare while the witcher walks ahead of them is not the most novel experience for Jaskier. Despite Geralt’s overprotectiveness of his mare, he’s always let Jaskier ride if he was truly distressed—or simply complained loudly enough.

There’s no complaining during their one-day journey, even Roach is behaving like the good girl she is. Jaskier gladly endures her glares as long as she doesn’t throw him off her back. Perhaps she senses that will certainly kill him.

The small village looms by the end of the road, right next to the setting sun, and Jaskier’s knees almost buckle under him as he dismounts. He catches the saddle by instinct and chokes in a grunt. There’s fresh blood between his teeth. Geralt’s hands steady Jaskier by the elbows as he breathes through the pain, a sheen of sweat breaking out on his forehead.

Walking into Yennefer’s cottage like this is the last thing Jaskier wants, but what choice does he have? She has long since figured out how pathetic he is. A mere human plastered himself to a witcher’s side, never once considering the possibility that he’s unwanted. A mock or two from Yennefer of Vengerburg aren’t anything new.

To Jaskier’s surprise, when violet eyes meet him, there’s no mockery.

Yennefer stands from a workstation full of vials and bottles. Without sparing a glance at Geralt, she walks right past the witcher.

“Oh, bardling,” she says, “what have you gotten yourself into?”

It takes a brave man to not cower under her knowing gaze, and Jaskier is far from one. He wishes to hide in the setting sun and the darkening room, his feet quiet on the wooden floor and lips sealed. Without a voice, Jaskier is left with no presence anyway.

Pulling Yennefer away, Geralt must be explaining the situation. Once in a while, they will both turn their heads at Jaskier with a pinched look, an almost identical one. Paying attention to the conversation becomes difficult as exhaustion hits Jaskier at full force. The blood loss from the makes him dizzy after traveling on horse, his bones aching from all the jostling. Jaskier sinks into a soft armchair and lets low grumbling witcher baritone and Yennefer’s silvery voice wash over him. The sorceress could make a singer in another life, he muses. A great one, even. Not that he’ll ever admit it to her face, but a bard should recognize talent anywhere.

When Jaskeir is shaken awake by the shoulder, the sky is pitch dark and the tiny cottage is lit by a single candle. It gives out way more light than it should, illuminating everything in sight. Witchcraft will never stop giving Jaskier the creeps.

Geralt is nowhere to be found, and Yennefer looks down at him in pity.

“Come on.” She sounds even gentle; perhaps Jaskier is dying from these broken bones, he muses inwardly. “Do you want it fixed or not?”

Jaskier sits up against soft cushions while Yennefer gathers her herbs and medicine. A cup is shoved before his face and he barely manages to catch it with his hands heavily wrapped, and the content is the most disgusting thing he’s ever tasted.

Shuddering, Jaskier lets loose of his lips just for the momentary satisfaction of revenge. “You are vile, witch.”

Yennefer’s hands stop mid-air right before grabbing another bottle. Sharply, she turns around to observe Jaskier closely, her expression stone-cold, raven hair falling to frame her face elegantly. Jaskier swallows hard.

“Gods, you are the ugliest person I’ve laid eyes on.” Stopping seems an unlikely task right now. Jaskier feels horror sinking into his very core as the warm light gleams in violet eyes. “Your eyes are the most dreadful, and then there’s your voice. Utterly uninspiring. You’d make the most terrible singer if given the chance.”

Seconds tickle by, and Jaskeir expects to be turned into a toad on the spot. It seems Geralt has miscalculated. Bringing Jaskier here will solve his problem once and for all, because he’ll never play the lute again if the rest of his life will be spent on a lilypad. Jaskier feels heat draining from his cheeks, but for the second time, Yennefer surprises him.

The corners of her mouth turn upwards as she casts a silent spell with her fingers. Eyebrows raised, she asks without heat, “more comments for me?”

With a huff, Jaskeir launches again. “Has the great Yennefer of Vengerburg gone soft? I’d imagine with the amount of broken hearts you left in your wake, you would have remade yours with stone.” There’s a sizzle in the air, like magic appearing and fading at the same time, but Jaskier ignores it. “Now what? Not even one insult for me? After I called you the most beautiful person on—” Jaskier snaps his mouth shut, and feels for his tongue.

He’s free.

“Oh,” he lets out the longest exhale, and immediately, “shit.”

Jaskier watches in horror as a smile spreads across Yennefer’s face, the smugness unmasked in the way her arms crossed before her chest. Oh, the price he’d pay just for the ground to swallow him whole right now.

“The most what?”

Jaskier stares at the empty cup in his lap, and then back up at Yennefer.

“You—” he splutters. “Of course.”

“The fae curses come in all shapes and forms. This one was particularly whimsical.” Yennefer leans against her workstation, putting down two corked vials on the table. “Your wrists are bad, but not unsalvageable. Drink these in seven days and they’ll be fine.”

“I thought you could do magic.”

“You might have time to nurse a broken heart, but the rest of us don’t have the luxury. There’s a war. It costs magic.”

Yennefer turns away, and Jaskier looks at her—really looks at her for the first time since stepping into this town. There’s a weariness in the way she carries herself and the self-soothing gesture of pressing her palm on her stomach from time to time. Her make-up is immaculate as ever, but the droop of her lashes speaks of a haunting experience.

“Are you okay?” Jaskier clears his throat, legs tense and ready to go to her, but thinks better of it.

Violet eyes meet him sharply. “And you’re calling me soft?”

Jaskier huffs, almost offended. “You just lifted a fae curse for me out of the goodness of your will. I’d say that’s a reasonable accusation. I … I realize I haven’t said it. Thank you, Yennefer. It was kind of you. Despite what I may have said a few years ago in a drunken fit, I’d hate it if the war claimed you too.”

Remembering that night has Jaskier cringing, but Yennefer only lets out a dry laugh. After all, she did get him back on a few hours later, by tripping him on stage with the wave of a hand. Geralt was never amused by their petty squabbles.

“You are never what I expect you to be, Jaskier.”

“Did you think me incapable of a little gratitude?”

“I thought you incapable of many things.”

“Such as?”

Yennefer straightens her back, the soft curve of her lips fading. “Such as hurting Geralt.”

Shame washes over Jaskeir anew, and he winces. Somewhere at the back of his mind, Jaskier has always been aware that the mountain was not just an ending to his world, but one for the fated romance between Geralt and Yennefer as well. And yet, no matter how angry at the djinn wish, Yennefer still sounds fiercely protective of Geralt.

“I see this is where you turn me into a toad.”

Yennefer taps the vials absently, eyeing at Jaskier’s broken body. “Somehow I feel like you’re punished enough.”

She says that as if Jaskier’s physical wounds are anything compared to how deeply he must have hurt Geralt. The absence of him takes up all the space between Jaskier’s ribcage, and the grief is almost crushing. He sniffles, his nose sore and throat tight.

“You told him?” Jaskier asks, voice small. He doesn’t know which is worse, Geralt leaving believing those words were genuinely Jaskier’s, or him learning about the curse and then choosing to go. A liar, Geralt once called him with affection. Did he anticipate Jaskier would be lying to him too?

He’d hate either answer from Yennefer, but she doesn’t give one. Instead, her tone gentles, “did he realize?”

Jaskier snaps his head up with a crease between his brows. “What?”

“When you were cursed and bleeding, did he realize those lies weren’t yours?”

Jaskier sags with sorrow.

“You know the answer.”

Yennefer moves around the table and sits behind it, the magic candle obscuring her expression. There could be a hint of regret, but Jaskier doesn’t dare to assume.

“He didn’t recognize the looks of a man with his choices taken.”

Jaskier shakes his head like a rattle. “It wasn’t his fault. He couldn’t have known.”

“Because Geralt was ready to believe your lies from the start,” she sighs. “As if you could ever utter those words. As if someone might want to stay with him simply because they wish to.”

No, his heart was not the only one that broke on top of the mountain.

“Do you think,” Jaskier tries, “if he told you about—”

“It’s too late for us,” she waves him off, readying parchment and a quill. “I don’t bother myself with could-have-beens, and neither should him, but.”

The implication hangs in the air.

Jaskier gets up, observing Yennefer’s long, meaningful look, and chuckles tightly. “You truly have gone soft, witch.”

“Don’t come to me dying again, bardling. A third time, I might just let you.”

“No, you won’t.”

Thanking Yennefer again is easy, so is the jab she returns, but finding Geralt becomes the only thing on Jaskier’s mind, so much so that he’s only doubling back after rushing out the door.

“Almost forgot.” He pockets the potions, albeit clumsily. “And where…?”

“There’s only one way out of town. He left not long ago.” Yennefer has begun writing a letter, not even looking up.

“Perfect.”

“I’m serious about the dying.”

Jaskier suppresses the urge to give her a kiss as they bid a final goodbye, and runs out into the night.

It’s not too late for them.

He just needs to make it right. Apologize, explain… Anything that can convince Geralt that he never meant those words, that he’s never seen Geralt as anything but the truest friend, that he’s loved, completely and unreservedly.

It dawns on Jaskier that in the span of only a few days, his and Geralt’s roles have reversed.

A big thanks to Beginte on AO3 for pointing out the parallel between Jaskier and Geralt. Now they've switched roles and Jaskier is the one who said words he didn't mean and desperately wants to apologize.

Ah, the final chapter, here I come. Although I have no timeframe for my writing these days; school is starting to get busy and I am whelmed by the amount of paperwork involved in moving to a new country. Be patient with me, as I am with the local banking efficiency.

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod @kuripon @holymotherwolf

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #lying spell #reverse tropes #lying potion #hurt jaskier #blood and injury #jaskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerburg #cursed jaskier #angst #(not for long)

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itsthemysterykids · 3 years

Note

What would their names as Miraculous holders be?

Ladybug 🐞

Coraline: Miss Beetle

Wybie: Rouge Bug

Norman: Red Wing

Neil: Spots

Dipper: Kid Luck

Mabel: Lovely

Raz: Mister Bug

Lili: Scarlet Bug

Black Cat 🐈‍⬛

Coraline: Kitty Noir

Wybie: Tomcat

Norman: Shadow Cat

Neil: Kit Kat

Dipper: Neko

Mabel: Nyan

Raz: Cool Cat

Lili: Purrsephone

Fox 🦊

Coraline: Illusia

Wybie: Foxtrot

Norman: Fennec

Neil: Red Fox

Dipper: Kitsune

Mabel: Kit

Raz: Swiper

Lili: Ruse

Turtle 🐢

Coraline: Terrapin

Wybie: Donatello

Norman: Shell Shock

Neil: Hardhat

Dipper: Kappa

Mabel: Shellby

Raz: Leonardo

Lili: Snapper

Bee 🐝

Coraline: Hornet

Wybie: Apis

Norman: Stinger

Neil: Mighty B

Dipper: Buzz

Mabel: Honeycomb

Raz: Yellow Jacket

Lili: Nectar

Snake 🐍

Coraline: Charmer

Wybie: Serpentine

Norman: Viper

Neil: Snakespeare

Dipper: Snake Eyes

Mabel: Boa

Raz: King Cobra

Lili: Medusa

Dragon 🐉

Coraline: Spitfire

Wybie: Hydra

Norman: Darksmoke

Neil: Toothless

Dipper: Dragonite

Mabel: Starblaze

Raz: Kaida

Lili: Komodo

Rabbit 🐰

Coraline: Jackrabbit

Wybie: Jackalope

Norman: March Hare

Neil: Luke Skyhopper

Dipper: Usagi

Mabel: Cottontail

Raz: Hopper

Lili: Lapin

Horse 🐴

Coraline: Equine

Wybie: Bronco

Norman: Stallion

Neil: Foal

Dipper: Saddle Up

Mabel: Alicorn

Raz: Maximus

Lili: Calamity Jane

Monkey 🐵

Coraline: Mischief

Wybie: Rascal

Norman: Tarzan

Neil: Donkey Kong

Dipper: Silverback

Mabel: Scamp

Raz: Mojo

Lili: Simia

Mouse 🐭

Coraline: Maze

Wybie: Rat King

Norman: Dormouse

Neil: Anonymouse

Dipper: Brain

Mabel: Minnie

Raz: Rat Trap

Lili: Lab Rat

Pig 🐷

Coraline: Truffle

Wybie: Razorback

Norman: War Pig

Neil: Hamlet

Dipper: Squealer

Mabel: Miss Piggy

Raz: Porker

Lili: Swine

Tiger 🐯

Coraline: Felice

Wybie: Bengal

Norman: Sabertooth

Neil: Tigger

Dipper: Stripes

Mabel: Pounce

Raz: Rajah

Lili: Flare

Ox 🐃

Coraline: Bullrush

Wybie: Minotaur

Norman: Stampede

Neil: Bullfighter

Dipper: Taurus

Mabel: Bella

Raz: Theseus

Lili: Toro

Goat 🐐

Coraline: Cabra

Wybie: Battering Ram

Norman: Krampus

Neil: Headbutt

Dipper: Capricorn

Mabel: Summit

Raz: Pan

Lili: Satyr

Rooster 🐓

Coraline: Rise ‘n Shine

Wybie: Fowl Play

Norman: Sunrise

Neil: Peck

Dipper: Bright Feather

Mabel: Mother Hen

Raz: Al Capon

Lili: Feather Fury

Dog 🐶

Coraline: Stray

Wybie: Bulldog

Norman: Cerberus

Neil: Buddy

Dipper: Canus

Mabel: Paw Print

Raz: Fido

Lili: Frisky

Butterfly 🦋

Coraline: Chrysalis

Wybie: Metamorph

Norman: Butterfly Effect

Neil: Lacewing

Dipper: Karner Blue

Mabel: Beautifly

Raz: Red Admiral

Lili: Monarch

Peacock 🦚

Coraline: Lapis Tail

Wybie: Blue Beau

Norman: Peafowl

Neil: Pekham

Dipper: Blue Moon

Mabel: Peahen

Raz: Feather Fop

Lili: Sapphire Feather

#coraline #mystery kids #gravity falls #paranorman #psychonauts #the mystery kids #answered ask #ask stuff #miraculous au #miraculous ladybug

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skyriderwednesday · 2 years

Text

Tea, Sir

Drumknott picked up a small plate from the tray, “A biscuit, sir?” -- Drumknott and Vetinari share a tea break

(Rated G, 821 words)

Also on AO3

Drumknott entered the room slowly, balancing the contents of a full tea tray. Vetinari stopped writing and watched him over his reading glasses as he carefully and delicately crossed the office like a child carrying their grandmother’s favourite vase. There was no variance in his focus, not a single item on the tray rattled, even as he stepped over a stray dog toy halfway along the carpet. Vetinari cleared the desk of obstructions. With jeweller's precision, Drumknott placed the tray down. Only then, it would seem, he allowed himself to breathe. “Are you quite sure you have never trained in domestic service?” “No, sir,” Drumknott said, retrieving a chair from the corner of the room. “No, you are not sure that you have not trained in domestic service, or no, you have not trained in domestic service?” Drumknott positioned his chair and, accounting for the front of the desk, sat down in a manner resembling side-saddle. “The latter, sir,” he said, lifting cups and saucers from the tray. “I see.” Vetinari put aside the letter he had been drafting and placed his pen in the inkwell. Drumknott glanced up, teapot in hand. “Sir…” he said. Indeed, there was a pen-rest for a reason. Leaving the pen in the ink would corrode the nib. Drumknott may not have trained in domestic service, but he was trained as a scribe and therefore Knew These Things. Vetinari took the pen from the inkwell, wiped the ink from its nib, and placed it into the rest. “Quite right, Drumknott,” he said. “Thank you for reminding me.” Drumknott nodded, and continued to pour the tea. The cups filled, he sat back down to add milk and sugar to his tea, leaving Vetinari to add lemon to his own. There was a certain sense of decorum as they stirred their tea in silence. Neither spoon clinked. Not a sound was made until they were set down. Drumknott picked up a small plate from the tray, “A biscuit, sir?” Vetinari took one, it had been piped and was flecked with lavender. “Thank you.” Drumknott took a biscuit for himself and put the plate back down. They sipped tea and ate their biscuits quietly for a few minutes. “You have read the paper this morning, I assume?” Vetinari said. “Yes, sir,” Drumknott replied. “I am interested to hear how the Milliners’ Guild chooses to justify such an increase in its import of plumes, especially with regard to the embargo on such.” “Should I arrange an appointment for Mrs Bertrand, sir?” “I will see her on Thursday, thank you.” “Yes, sir.” Vetinari took another biscuit. Drumknott did also. They were buttery, but the lavender offered a lightness. They were very good with tea. “Is your sister well?” “She is. Daniela is starting school.” “Ah, I wish the best of luck to her.” “How is your aunt?” “The same woman as ever,” Vetinari said, taking a particularly long sip of tea before he continued. “She has named yet another cat after me.” Drumknott paused with his biscuit three-quarters to his mouth. “I suppose it shows she cares for you, sir.” Vetinari turned his cup in his hands, examining the dregs at its bottom. “It is hardly that I do not appreciate her reasoning. I only question how many primarily black cats can be inflicted with my forename in one woman's lifetime.” Drumknott hummed and tucked the remainder of the biscuit into his saucer. “More tea, sir?” “Yes please, Mr Drumknott.” He broke a biscuit in half, it snapped pleasingly. “Do you believe these have been made with saffron?” Drumknott stood to pour more tea into his cup. “I would think so, sir, based on their colour.” “Yes, more yellow than only butter would impart,” Vetinari said as Drumknott sat back down. “They’re very good.” Drumknott hummed in agreement. “I will tell the kitchens to keep the recipe, sir.” “Do you remember the ones last week, made with cardamom?” Drumknott nodded, “I liked those a lot, sir.” “Yes, I’d think they’d be very well with coffee.” The city began to chime. “Has there been word of Vimes this morning?” “I have no reason to believe that he will be late, sir.” “Then it shall be time to clear away.” “Yes, sir,” Drumknott said, beginning to replace items

on the tray. “Would you like the last biscuit?” Vetinari asked. Drumknott glanced at the plate. “You can have it if you like, sir.” “Oh no, it wouldn’t be fair. After all, I’ve already had three.” Two and a half, precisely, but well on the way to three. There was a snuffle from beneath the desk. “No, you certainly can’t have it,” Vetinari said to the resident of the basket. He raised his eyebrows convincingly at Drumknott. “Thank you, sir,” he said, pocketing the biscuit. “You’re very welcome, Mr Drumknott. If you could bring the council minutes from Tuesday, please?” “Of course, sir.” “Thank you.”

#discworld #discworld fic #rufus drumknott #havelock vetinari

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