Latest Posts by ohtobefightingthefoos - Page 4
I've been kind of obsessed with them since I watched the last season. I think Soren needed to be comforted by Corvus... They never really talked about what happened and it didn't sit well with me, so I drew this.
I love that, even thought Callum and Ezran were in a bad fight, Ezran still chose helping Callum over killing Aaravos (or his mortal form, anyway). Because his love is stronger than his hate and anger. His love for Callum and Rayla never faded--like the moon, it was always there. Just hidden, darkened by grief and rage.
Reblog to make the person u reblogged this from comfy n cozy
I wrote Part I of a self-indulgent fic about Sarai and Soren based on my post detailing my headcanons. If you like the excerpt below, feel free to read and support the rest of it here on AO3!
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Sarai lay in the bed, watching the royal physician closely as he examined the frail boy held in her arms. From the corner of her eye, she could see Lord Viren and Lady Lissa across the room with their hands interlocked, knuckles white with tension. No one said a word as the doctor placed a device against the child’s bare chest and brought it to his ear to listen. Not that he needed the instrument, in Sarai’s opinion. Every shaky breath that little Soren took was accompanied by a thick, crackling sound. The Head Crownguard gently ran a hand across the boy’s head to wipe away the feverish sweat that plastered the golden locks to his forehead. Soren was none the wiser of the movement around him, eyes screwed shut in a restless slumber.
Occasionally, one of Sarai’s recruits would ask her why she spent so much time cooped up in the bedroom of the High Mage’s son. She’d answer curtly that as a Crownguard, it was her duty to aid the people of Katolis in whatever way she could, including High Mage Viren and his family. Who was Sarai to deny a sick child company, especially when he asked so nicely?
It was no secret that Soren adored Sarai. She saw the way his face lit up when she walked through the door. On the good days, she’d play with him while his parents attended court or spent time with their daughter. Soren would grab his toy sword, and Sarai would grab his little dragon plushie, and they would take turns chasing each other around the room, playfighting.
During the bad days, she’d lay on the bed with Soren and tell him about the Crownguard. Sarai ensured that Soren knew he wasn’t expected to make conversation, or even keep his eyes open. She just spoke, and he listened or tried to sleep – and the only response to her stories would be the sound of soft wheezing. Sarai would stay with Soren long after he fell asleep, only getting up when his parents returned to take her place at his side.
Harrow, Lady Justice bless him, would check on her after every visit with Soren. He knew her history with the breathing sickness and how it affected her. She’d, of course, politely assure him that she was well and thank him for keeping an eye on Callum while she was unavailable. They’d stroll through the halls, and Harrow would tell her all about which area of the castle he had helped Callum explore that day.
Teehee
u know what makes me cry..... that one van gogh quote about life changing for the better..... “many people seem to think it foolish, even superstitious, to believe that the world could still change for the better. and it is true that in winter it is sometimes so bitingly cold that one is tempted to say, ‘what do i care if there is a summer; its warmth is no help to me now.’ yes, evil often seems to surpass good. but then, in spite of us, and without our permission, there comes at last an end to the bitter frosts. one morning the wind turns, and there is a thaw. and so i must still have hope.” yeah..... Crying....
lmao look what i found on the TDP reddit (don't ask me why i was on that cursed place)
I wrote Part I of a self-indulgent fic about Sarai and Soren based on my post detailing my headcanons. If you like the excerpt below, feel free to read and support the rest of it here on AO3!
——————————
Sarai lay in the bed, watching the royal physician closely as he examined the frail boy held in her arms. From the corner of her eye, she could see Lord Viren and Lady Lissa across the room with their hands interlocked, knuckles white with tension. No one said a word as the doctor placed a device against the child’s bare chest and brought it to his ear to listen. Not that he needed the instrument, in Sarai’s opinion. Every shaky breath that little Soren took was accompanied by a thick, crackling sound. The Head Crownguard gently ran a hand across the boy’s head to wipe away the feverish sweat that plastered the golden locks to his forehead. Soren was none the wiser of the movement around him, eyes screwed shut in a restless slumber.
Occasionally, one of Sarai’s recruits would ask her why she spent so much time cooped up in the bedroom of the High Mage’s son. She’d answer curtly that as a Crownguard, it was her duty to aid the people of Katolis in whatever way she could, including High Mage Viren and his family. Who was Sarai to deny a sick child company, especially when he asked so nicely?
It was no secret that Soren adored Sarai. She saw the way his face lit up when she walked through the door. On the good days, she’d play with him while his parents attended court or spent time with their daughter. Soren would grab his toy sword, and Sarai would grab his little dragon plushie, and they would take turns chasing each other around the room, playfighting.
During the bad days, she’d lay on the bed with Soren and tell him about the Crownguard. Sarai ensured that Soren knew he wasn’t expected to make conversation, or even keep his eyes open. She just spoke, and he listened or tried to sleep – and the only response to her stories would be the sound of soft wheezing. Sarai would stay with Soren long after he fell asleep, only getting up when his parents returned to take her place at his side.
Harrow, Lady Justice bless him, would check on her after every visit with Soren. He knew her history with the breathing sickness and how it affected her. She’d, of course, politely assure him that she was well and thank him for keeping an eye on Callum while she was unavailable. They’d stroll through the halls, and Harrow would tell her all about which area of the castle he had helped Callum explore that day.
in 2021 i had the honour of a poem being published in short vine journal run by students at the university of cincinnati. you can find a free digital copy of the entire publication here
Thinking about how Soren spent days alone in ruins of Katolis seemingly there by himself having not changed or cleaned his armor or even wipe the blood from his face until after everyone arrived.
I also want to know where everyone was before they moved to the lodge and what they were doing.
Was Hat still under the care of Opeli, nervously chittering when yet again Soren hadn’t returned from the ruins?
Did Barius try to comfort Soren the few times he got to see him and tried offer him some food?
Were the other members of the Crownguard worried about how long Soren was spending in the ruins even after they had gotten all salvageables and recovered the bodies?
Xena Warrior Princess 3.18 Fins, Femmes And Gems
have we talked about the logistics of Viren's nightmare version of Kpp'Ar (coloured by how Viren perceived him in the past and perceives him now) versus how Kpp'Ar might've actually been vs some blend of the two as being reality
I luckily haven't had to deal with much chronic pain or hand pain yet, especially with regards to baking (crochet is another story). That said, these look like some pretty solid tips! There's also some in the comments section.
The Dragon Prince Fanfic: Seeking Judgment
Thank you to @youruinedmylifebynotbeingreal for beta reading and helping me out!! 🫶
Summary: Opeli finds herself face to face with Viren after he makes a request for a confessional. Unpleasant memories rise as she too is now faced with the weight of his crimes.
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“Excuse me?” Opeli didn’t bother hiding her frustration as she lifted her head from her desk. In front of her the ‘Associate’ Crow Lord squirmed, wringing his hands together as he let out an awkward chuckle, a nervous quirk of his she found exceedingly annoying.
“Viren has requested to see you-uh, High Priestess.” he repeated, swinging his arms back and forth as he bounced in place. Opeli’s lip curled as she placed down her pencil.
“And why would I do that.” her patience was wearing incredibly thin at the thought of that man feeling entitled to anyone’s time, let alone hers. Again, the Crow Lord shifted, now scratching at his nail-polish, the paint turning to black dust before drifting down to her once perfectly cleaned floor.
“Um…he said that he wanted to ask for Judgment from Lady Justice?”
Opeli felt her body stiffen in anger, eyes narrowing enough that the Crow Lord himself went still for the first time since entering her office.
In her youth, when she had still been with the sisters, her predecessor had proposed the ‘Judgment from Lady Justice’ practice. It was an initiative to grant prisoners a chance to reconcile with themselves and take accountability for their actions by speaking with the High Priestess and confessing before Lady Justice in the chapel.
For a moment her anger shot briefly to her mentor for paving her way into this situation but she quickly redirected it back to Viren.
Viren had never been a religious man, this was something she knew for a fact. He often made snide comments about Lady Justice, how if such a deity even existed how cruel they must be to leave humanity as it is.
Now he dare use her name now as an excuse? As a way to bring her to him?
But there was her oath, this was her original job after-all, before she became wrapped up so tightly within the political affairs of Katolis. With a click of her tongue Opeli opened a drawer, fishing out a form she would need to fill out.
“Fine. I will set a date. But he will get no more than 15 minutes.”
The day came quicker than she would have liked, as a whole she would have liked not to be in this position at all but Lady Justice worked in strange ways.
Standing in the middle of the empty chapel with the confessional set up, Opeli mentally recited her oath as a way of grounding herself. Regardless, whenever one requested Judgment from Lady Justice there were always precautions, but this was an exceptional case.
Guards had been ordered to be posted just outside of the chapel and she ensured she would have a means of defending herself, namely a blade.
After Soren had helped her and the others escape Katolis she decided she should know how to use at least a dagger.
Corvus had been the one to coach her, he was a good teacher. Patient, understanding, and thorough. Though she had been fortunate enough to have not needed it so far, there was a newfound confidence with the blade that now rested at her hip more often than not.
Cautiously she turned the weapon over in her hand admiring the smith-work. She often advised in battles, wars, and had many conversations with Amaya and Sarai before her but she had never considered what it meant to actually wield a blade.
There was power in it, of course, but more than that there was an itch. Whenever she felt threatened, her fingers twitched as if closing around an invisible handle.
During her training Corvus had said as much, that to wield a weapon meant to have discipline, to know when to halt and when to strike.
To have discipline.
Opeli found her eyes drifting up to the stain-glass mural in front of her. Justice stood, proud as ever, with her head held high and blindfolded, one hand raising up scales over her head, the other with her sword drawn.
At a very young age Opeli knew she had a strong sense of justice, a need to render each their proper due regardless of status or background, be it King or Servant.
As she stared, eyes drifting to the sword laying passively at Justice’s side, Opeli’s predecessor’s words echoed in her mind.
‘Your hand is far too eager for the punishment.’
“High Priestess.” The guard’s voice snapped her into reality “Are you ready?”
Taking a deep breath Opeli placed the blade back in its holster before blindfolding herself with the all too familiar red cloth.
“Not really.” positioning herself in front of the screen she’d be hearing Viren through, she clarified “Bring him in.”
Moments later she heard the sounds of the guards boots on the chapel floors but now accompanied with the clack of chains. Until they stopped before her feet. The guards' boots receded until the door shut once again leaving Opeli to her fate.
“Opeli,” a sound of gratitude echoed in front of her, a tone so unfamiliar on Viren’s tongue that for a moment she wondered if she had gotten the times wrong and was speaking to some stranger.
“Thank you for seeing me.” Her lip twitched in annoyance. The voice was no doubt Viren’s.
“Let’s make this quick.” she snapped before centering herself and beginning the speech.
Words from their Scriptures she remembers by heart by the time she got to the end she was already feeling ready for this to be over.
“So, you kneel here today before our Lady to seek Judgment and to balance your scales. Do you agree to face Justice with the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Then speak.”
There was no sound for a second until Viren cleared his throat, the soft clank of the chains being amplified by the chapel walls.
“I want to start this off by apologizing to you, Opeli, for how I had treated you for the past few years. It was...wrong.” Opeli couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that.
If one could believe it, she and Viren hadn’t always been at each other’s throats. There was once a time they were courteous to each other, but it had all changed many years ago. With Lissa.
The name still stung whenever she crossed her mind. How she once lit up a room wherever she walked, trail of leaves and petals following her every step.
The image of her begun to burn behind the cloth of Opeli’s blindfold; Lissa shoulders bare in the cold Katolis air as if it were a warm summer day, a soft flush on her full cheeks, a dimple revealing itself upon a tug her lips, an autumn leaf she pressed sticking out of her disorderly bun, and her soft green eyes full of whimsy she herself certainly hadn’t had since she was a child.
Lissa had once told her autumn was her favorite season, that Katolis has the most beautiful autumn cycle in all the world, even Xadia.
Opeli had countered with how she could know if she had never been to Xadia.
‘I just know.’ she had teased with a soft rumbling laugh, bumping Opeli with her arm as she stared out into the courtyard from the library’s balcony.
Lissa had sounded so sure that she was right that Opeli took her word for it.
A strange longing she hadn’t felt in years clawed at her chest at their shared memories, she could almost smell her perfume and hear her snort in the library as they tried to keep their voices down.
“She told you…didn't she? A-about what I did.”
There was an itch at the palm of her hand, accompanied by the phantom handle, at Viren’s words.
“We are not here to discuss me.”
“I truly do feel awful about what happ- for what I did.”
“And what exactly did you do.” The words were bitter, but so were the memories of Lissa sobbing into her chest, tears streaming down her face, seemingly endless no matter how tightly Opeli held her in her arms.
A strangled whimper escaped the man in front of her, and Opeli felt no remorse. If he truly wished to seek judgment from Lady Justice he would need to at least have the gall to admit it, even if it was over a decade late.
“I…” a hiccuped sob caught in Viren’s throat as he pushed out the words “I hurt her…in our bedroom, I cornered her and I forced her to cry. For a spell. Even when she begged me, I didn’t stop.”
Clinging tightly to her teachings, Opeli recited what was next.
“And do you feel regret for what you did?”
“I…” Viren paused and sighed. “I don’t know.”
“Don’t know?” Opeli snapped, briefly forgetting her role in this situation, overcome with confusion.
“If I hadn’t done it then Soren...he would’ve died. And I do not regret that my son is alive.”
To that Opeli had no words, as much as she would’ve liked to shout and scream at him, she faltered, for she was also glad Soren was alive.
“Lady Justice has heard your words.”
“There is more I wish to say.” resisting a groan she nodded, a prompt for him to continue.
“I knew under regular circumstances you would’ve never agreed to meet me but take this as my confession.”
The list of crimes that began to spill from his lips further tested Opeli’s patience.
Viren was the one behind the murders of the other Kingdoms’ leaders, smokey assassins he puppeteered to make it seem as if Xadia wished for war. Not much of a surprise but her heart ached for the Kingdoms thrown into chaos, and more so for Prince Kasef, a victim of Viren’s own self righteous plot.
Kpp’ar isn’t missing, Viren claimed, but imprisoned in a coin in his basement. He is sure there is a way to get him out but it would require something exceedingly rare. Opeli crinkled her nose at that wondering if this was a ploy to convince them to allow Viren out of his cell to find said items.
Kpp’ar was a man she rarely even spotted, she wasn’t the high priestess at the time he had begun frequently visiting the chapel, but Opeli remembers that night when her mentor emerged from the chapel face pale and arms weak after speaking with him.
That night was the last night he ever set foot back in the castle before disappearing. If you asked Opeli, she would’ve said he just finally lost his mind and ran away.
“I know, this means nothing now. But Soren, he won’t accept it from me, but I want him to know that I love him. And that I am so proud of him, I had always wanted a son who would follow in my footsteps and I had once thought my son had failed me. But he has done far better than I could’ve ever imagined.”
Since the King left Soren had been nothing short of a zombie, a smile that never quite reached his eyes projecting confidence but everyone in the castle felt the shift in his demeanor, he was hardly spotted for his morning jogs anymore, his jokes didn’t quite land, and his fidgeting had only grown.
A few of the soldiers in training had complained about sparring, how he didn’t seem to be holding back all that well.
“If you could...just make sure he knows that, in some way.” As much as she didn’t want to grant him the satisfaction she nodded.
“And Claudia….oh my little girl…when she casted her first spell I had been so worried. But when she woke, I was filled with such pride. I thought I had such a brilliant young girl to take after me, but now I see it was the wrong path. I have watched her do...vile things.”
King Ezran and the others had informed Opeli of Claudia’s return, of how dangerous she was. Had Rayla not interfered, they worried what would’ve happened to Ezran.
“I knew my staying would only hold her back, I just hope it’s enough that she can find the right path just as Soren did. If she comes to Katolis, would you promise that she be granted mercy? What has become of her is my fault, I led her down this route by the hand, she does not deserve to pay the price for my crimes.”
Ezran’s words echoed in her mind. At this point it felt far too late to grant Claudia amnesty but in the end it was not her place.
“She will be granted whatever King Ezran allows.” Opeli conceded.
Viren sighed, and for a moment he remained quiet before taking a deep breath.
“King Harrow is not dead.”
Ice shot through Opeli’s veins, her breath catching in her throat.
“What.”
“I know what it sounds like what-what it looks like. The body...it was his but it wasn’t him.” Opeli’s thoughts swam uncomfortably in her head, her stance wavering. She had seen King Harrow's body, cradled his limp head on her lap as if it would somehow spark him back to life, the same head she once crowned with pride.
“He lives still!” Viren continued, his words muffled behind the images flashing through Opeli’s mind of that night. Blood staining her hands, the clamor of guards shouting, stepping over the bodies of the very people she knighted.
“In Pip, his old Songbird! I did a spell, I wasn’t sure if it would work or not but it did!” Viren rushed them to seal Harrow’s body away, her hands washed of the blood but still stained in her mind, the anger she felt for she had yet to fully grieve and Viren had the audacity to rush her.
“I swear I was planning on finding a way to bring him back but when you stormed into my office-”
Something snapped in Opeli as she tore off her blindfold, hot rage flowing through her as she stepped forward.
“Enough!” Even though the screen Opeli could make out Viren’s kneeling form as he reeled back in shock, she couldn’t make out his expression or any more details than his vague silhouette but it was enough that she got her eyes on him.
“You dare make a mockery of this chapel?”
“W-what? N-no Opeli, please, you don’t understand.”
“Oh, I understand plenty, Viren. You are a mad man, you’ve been so consumed by your guilt that you are making wild accusations to rid yourself of it! Our late king may have once entertained you but I will not have you send us on another wild goose chase.”
Opeli tossed her blindfold on the ground discarding it as she stormed away not caring where it drifted to.
“Wait! Wait, Opeli, please-” a slam of the door stiffened his pleas and she couldn’t care less, how dare he mock her, how dare he use this moment now. The guards just out of the doors gave her a confused stare.
“Take him back to his cell.” the pair nodded dutifully before entering back into the chapel. She didn’t bother to stick around to see them drag him back down to the depths of the dungeon instead she stormed back down the hall, robes bellowing behind her.
A deep dark pit stirred within her, memories of such small children with wide toothy smiles. Wrestling in the mud together as they squealed in delight, rushing down the corridors in a whirlwind of chaos, and being ushered out of the library for laughing too loud.
Those children... that whole time with him-
Her knuckles had begun to turn white, and her teeth ground together, giving her a headache, but beneath the rage she couldn’t deny the guilt.
Couldn’t deny the moments she turned her gaze believing Viren’s comments were nothing more than just words, couldn’t deny not only had Viren failed his children, but she did as well.
She had spent so long believing these children, by birthright, had been tainted by their father, destined to follow in his lead.
But Soren had grown into a kind young man. She’d watched how he had changed, how gently he now played with the castles’ children when they asked, how he treated everyone around him with love and respect. Soren carries such a big heart with him, she wondered how he can shoulder it all.
In certain lights he looked so much like his mother.
Perhaps Claudia once did too.
The next day Opeli caught Soren as he was excusing the trainees for the day, they all wore a relieved expression, covered in sweat and bruises as they stumbled off for their breaks. Soren’s expression was set and serious as he hung up the training swords on their rack, Hat chittered softly from a hay pile but Soren paid the little companion no mind, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.
Taking a breath and steadying her guilt she glided over to Soren with a smile.
“Soren! We are going to have a meeting in the council room later today. We will be uh-” Opeli mentally cringed knowing this topic wasn’t exactly one Soren would have much interest in “going over Advanced Fiscal Exercises if you wanted to join?”
The invitation instantly made him perk up, his smile that had been missing since the King departed rose back to life as he quickly placed Hat back on top of his head.
“Yeah, totally! What time?”
Who knew Soren would be so excited about finances?
Bonus Snippet:
Something prodded at Opeli’s intuition as she walked past the High Mages Office, her steps slowing to a halt a few feet away from it. Despite herself Viren's words echoed in her mind.
Most of her logic reasoned the man was lying, trying to get out of his cell so he could pull another trick on them, but a sliver of doubt was enough to pause her.
There was no way to confirm the outlandish stories of a king in a bird, or the smokey assassins that left behind only their weapons but one story lingered.
A man in a coin.
Biting the inside of her cheek, Opeli glanced around at the empty hall.
“I’m going to regret this aren’t I?” she mumbled to herself as she turned back to the high mage's office. She always had spare keys on her, and although Prince Callum was out, she had to see for herself even if it meant breaking in.
With a soft click the door gave way to her, briefly she considered locking it right back up and leaving but instead found herself poking her head in through the doors.
With the confirmation she was the only other soul in the room she hesitantly she stepped in, the door creaking loud enough she worried a guard would hear and come investigate.
As gently and quickly as she could she shut the door behind her and enveloping her in darkness. Opeli grumbled to herself, and fished around in her robes for a match. Prince Callum didn’t have any as he always had a magic trick up his sleeves to light the room in an instant.
Finally fumbling for a lantern and her matches she managed to re-illuminate the room, taking her steps towards the dungeons hidden entrance.
Standing in front of the painting, Opeli glared it down, the child holding the sheep in her arms with a far too doleful expression on her face. The painting was one she was glad was out of sight from most eyes.
As she descended the stairs unpleasant memories began to rise once more.
Gren chained at the bottom of the stairs skinny but smiling, the stench of death that hit all of their nostrils causing some of them even to gag, rusted chains splattered with dried blood, old ritualistic weapons hanging on the wall, and strange creatures trapped in jars.
Swatting a cobweb away with a groan she pushed forward, covering her mouth with her hand as she scanned the shelves lined with disturbing ingredients.
They really should just fill in this basement, make sure that it was never found again.
Searching high and low she found nothing. The light of her lantern cast flickery shadows over the basement walls surrounding her in her own embarrassment.
Opeli felt like a foolish child, hunting for monsters in the dark of her closet. How she allowed Viren’s words to burrow in her mind infuriated her to no end.
Must he always have the last laugh?
A soft metal clink on her boot froze her.
There, settled on top of a crack on the floor, laid a gold coin.
anyway the actual point of fandom is to inspire each other. reading each other's fics and admiring each other's art and saying wow i love this and i feel something and i want to invoke this in other people, i want to write a sentence that feels like a meteor shower, i want to paint a kiss with such tenderness it makes you ache, i want to create something that someone else somewhere will see it and think oh, i need to do that too, right now. i am embracing being a corny cunt on main to say inspiring each other is one of the things humanity is best at and one of the things fandom is built for and i think that's beautiful
For the record, you can pry my “Sarai used to be in the Crownguard before she married Harrow” headcanon from my cold, dead hands
Amaya trained the Standing Battalion and Sarai trained the Crownguard, and their ability to work together is why Katolis had the strongest fighting force in the Pentarchy
You can also pry “Sarai and Soren were insanely close before her death” from my cold, dead hands. Maybe not even then, because I’m gripping this idea tightly, even in death
Sarai helped Soren and his family manage his illness because of her experience with Damian. And Soren was just so excited that the Head Crownguard was hanging out with him! Even when he was at his worst, he’d always perk up if he could see Sarai train the soldiers from his bedroom window, or regale him with stories of legendary battles at his bedside
After Soren got better and Sarai left the Crownguard to become Princess of Katolis, she offered to show him the basics of swordplay and strategy to help Soren with all of his pent-up energy. Even though he wouldn’t be interested in poetry until years later, Soren was introduced to the concept through Sarai, who’d recite some of Damian’s old work for him during their time together. Sarai had essentially become one of Soren’s constants after his family fell apart with Lissa leaving, Viren growing cold, and Claudia throwing herself into magic
At least until she died, heroically saving his dad
Thinking about how most discussion around ‘educate boys’ is sub-textually presented from a position where sexual violence is a default, expected behaviour that must be trained out, rather than treating it as a learned behaviour that could be prevented if the teaching was identified and stamped out
Another one… just endless inspiration It’s so heartbreaking
Corvus: I am dating the dumbest man ever, but if anyone tries to take him from me, I'll slit their throat.
ETHARI CHANGED HIS MOONSHADOW MARKINGS ON HIS ARMS???? FROM THE CIRCLES TO A SWIRL????
A) So does that mean they’re painted on?
B) if they are painted, does he change them because runaan isn’t there anymore to help him paint them??? Because like, an even circle is real difficult to draw on your shoulder without help.
C) in terms of character design, I will be interpreting this as him losing stability. His old design was perfectly symmetrical, whereas now he’s a little off kilter, literally spiraling with grief. To me, there’s a lot of meaning in his markings specifically, especially the ones under his eyes that look like permanent tear tracks 🫶
D) goddamn it now I have to relearn how to draw his markings
Mine eyes were swift to know thee, and my heart As swift to love. I did become at once Thine wholly, thine unalterably
.....
There, thou and I Read Kindness in our eyes and closed the match.
-Robert Louis Stevenson
I like how leverage has a genius character and an autistic character but the autistic character isn't the genius character. the genius is a 22 year old black man with adhd who becomes an expert in anything you give him within 24 hours and the autistic character is a white woman who jumps off buildings for fun and once stabbed a man with a fork because he encroached on her personal space and sense of moral conduct
anyway soren stabbing viren in the front represents him looking his life before in the face, looking evil in the eye and saying "no more!"
anyhoodle claudia stabbing lissa in the back represents her betrayal of the broyals and soren and who she was and how she can't bear to look who she used to be in the eye
my secret super power is that i love and enjoy every single episode and season of the dragon prince
>listening to nin
>hear a new layer to song ive relistened to over and over
>"wow i cant believe i never noticed this before! i wonder what kind of synth he used. its very forboding in a specific way only nin can achieve"
>pause song to write post praising nin
>the synth specifically keeps playing despite the rest of the song being paused
>look outside window
>garbage truck
Planet fitness is offering free showers, wifi, and charging stations to first responders and residents in the LA area who've been affected by the fires btw.
Make plans for a month from now, for two months from now, for five. Pick a restaurant and book a reservation for April. Circle a museum exhibit.
Find joy and hold onto it tight. Give yourself a reason to look forward. And keep your community close.
A Winter's Surprise
Chapter 11 (An Interlude from Lambert)
Summary: Geralt takes a bad wound right before he is supposed to go up the mountain for the winter. Jaskier decides to go to Kaer Morhen in the worst way possible, uninvited with an injured Witcher.
Rating Teen Audiences and Up
Tags: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Aiden/Lambert (TheWitcher), Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Lambert (The Witcher), Eskel (The Witcher), Vesemir (The Witcher), Winter at Kaer Morhen (The Witcher), Injured Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Kaer Morhen (The Witcher), Jaskier | Dandelion Goes To Kaer Morhen, Uninvited Guest, Found Family, Protectiveness, Kaer Morhen's Fanon Hot Springs (The Witcher), no beta we die like renfri, Slow Burn, But with Friendship
Excerpt:
Having a human around only made those starker. Bringing back things he could be sure if he remembered or not. The smells of smoke in his sleep. The yelling. The blood. It was hard to be certain where his memory ended and his imagination began, especially in the middle of the night.
The only thing keeping the redhead sane was the letters from Aiden in their enchanted notebooks. They’d swapped them a few years ago, holding onto them to keep in touch. It was a nice way to know the person he was closest to was doing alright when he wasn’t ready to bring him home for the winter, and he wasn’t sure Aiden would appreciate it either. Cats and Wolves weren’t known for getting along, even if Aiden was stable. Comparatively.
Usually, it took longer into the winter before Lambert had to rely on the book like he was now.
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Remember when the dragon prince gave us canonically gay married elves, an interspecies interrracial lesbian couple involving a disabled character, non-binary characters of colour, martyred lesbain queens and mothers, and a transmasc elf in a happy relationship whose transness isn't at the center of his relationship; all while never depicting queerness as something other than completely normal and accepted within that universe and still constructing relevant and important arcs for each of these queer characters that are essential in furthering the story. Because I do.