#dot plays the guild war

[tiredassmage]

*slaps on table* 6, 16, 18 for best agent boy Tyr

(Aaaannnd 21 for your GW2 necromancer 👀 pleaaaase)

I want you to know that every time we trade agent asks I feel like that cat slamming the like and reblog buttons while making laser eyes. xD

As always, rambling under a cut involved, lol xD

best boy best boy best boy best b-

6. Their vices (physical or emotional)

Probably impressively given everything that happens, Tyr manages to dodge any physical addictions. He's far more of a social drinker than one likely to turn to a bottle for his solutions.

But also I have been thinking so intently even before this ask set about how I really don't think Tyr recognizes his own brand of self-sacrificing. He has the potential to be incredibly self-destructive about it, but almost by my sheer spite on the matter, he hasn't. Yet. If this game gives him so much as half an excuse to act on half the shit he thinks and says about taking down the Empire swinging, I'm going to stab this man myself so he can't do it.

I don't even think he'd call it self-sacrifice. He would low-key cringe at the idea of anyone thinking him a hero. Yeah, sure, yada yada, Immortal Sith Emperor is dead, whatever. He's just a lucky bastard with a blaster. All the real work was everyone else's. And watch - he wouldn't let you call him humble about it, either. While he's not particularly forceful or upfront about it, Tyr does have some strong ideas about how, exactly, people should remember him. There's still a part of him that is like (softly) "don't." This wasn't part of his briefing when he agreed to join Intelligence, damn it.

But, yeah, I'd say his biggest vice is that almost resignation to what he was/is as Cipher Nine, double agent to the Republic. He's not going to be ridiculously reckless and take unnecessary risks, but if you handed him a critical mission with a slim chance of a working exit strategy that would put a huge dent in the Empire?

Equally part of his problem is that he recognizes wars of attrition are not sustainable nor have they resulted in lasting peace, but find someone who gives a damn. If he could use a blaster against the Immortal damn Emperor, what is stopping him from taking on the rest of the Sith Empire? (Logic. Logic is what. He's not an idiot. He's just. Opinionated.)

He wouldn't tell Theron. Theron would try to stop him. Theron can know like. Right before he leaves. Maybe. That's maybe not the kind of message he'd like to leave with Jonas alone, after all. (Yes, Tyr and I have thought about this too much. It's such a problem. That's why he's not allowed to do this shit!!!!! Tyr!!!! PLeaSE!!!)

16. Dark Secrets/Skeletons in the Closet.

Hmmm.... hmm, hmm, hmmm.... Ohhh, the things spies don't tell other people. This one's tough. There's plenty of things he won't tell someone. Bastard still hasn't exactly clarified what his relationship with Shara was to Theron, for one. Half of his Intelligence career is still 'whatever you found in the records or think you know probably wasn't the half of it.'

Okay, so, his biggest one he won't probably ever been keen to spell out is that he probably wouldn't even bat an eye at a scenario like our theoretical occasion from the last question. At the end of the day, Tyr is still willing to push his own limits and cross some of his own boundaries to achieve an objective. And he knows there's shit like that that Theron would never agree to. And he would, knowing this, choose to omit details, if it came to this.

Throws my papers up in the air. And Theron was all in knots after Nathema, and Tyr is still willing to pull this shit. What am I gonna do with these two????

Anyway. I think also, in a way, there is a very, very tiny part of him that might, might accuse him of being a coward if it ever managed to wriggle out of the recesses of his mind because I do not believe Tyr would have ever asked Shara to leave the Empire. Part of it would be not thinking, even before he knew about her own programming, that it's what she wanted - and a backhanded accusation at himself from that would be that's not for him to determine to begin with. But I also think part of it is that he loved her, he trusted her to guide him as Cipher Nine, yes - all of that is true.

But I don't think he trusted anyone to understand why he would defect. That's one thing I don't think he would have trusted to her, given an opportunity.

Of course, none of this exactly strikes him as problems to deal with because they're not causing problems right now. He can't change the past and he certainly can't predict the future. So he'll just have to make do with what he's got and what comes at him whenever it gets here.

Oh, I got ahead of myself, didn't I, considering 18...

18. Things they'll never admit.

Okay, well, the last part of the last question is probably his biggest one. He's going to take that with him to the grave. One day he might explain a bit more of who Shara was to him to Theron, but will he ever admit that particular nuance? Absolutely not. Not relevant, unchangeable, nope. Nope nope nope.

There's probably a part of Tyr that could really benefit or feel something from someone giving him a pat on the shoulder and telling him, "you did alright, kid." (A), He, once again, doesn't actively realize this and, (B), BioWare where is Ardun Kothe? I increasingly need to know because I am increasingly having thoughts about him unexpectedly showing up on the Alliance base and it just being a Quiet Thing they acknowledge in private that Tyr would be... so relieved to see that man again. Bastard. He cares about you. They never officially call adoption, but like, Tyr was adopted. (This is even more hilarious to read back knowing like yEAH you're not wrong, but like, different context alkfnsaldkfd). Anyway, bold of anyone to assume Tyr actually had the courage to ask anyone. Did he look into this himself for answers? Who can say????? He sure won't.

I also think for like. At least half a hot minute Tyr kinda crushed on Vector. I've been slowly rotating this in the back of the mind since Tyr met Vector and was like "oh I like them" like, so fast. Tyr trusts him so fast - maybe too fast for being a Cipher, honestly. But also like, the whole complicated thing with feelings for Shara, later he falls absolutely in love with Theron, so... yeah, they ended up just being friends and Tyr never acted on this and, to this day, this is unacknowledged by both parties. And Tyr is, of course, happily married to Theron now.

Okay!!! Guild Wars mY WIFE time!!!! I'm love her...

21. Turning points in their life.

Okay, Letallia is still sort of coming together because I haven't finished everything yet, but what I do know came together surprisingly quickly! So, most of these events are primarily related to the first 30ish levels of personal quests.

Letallia is the oldest of twin siblings adopted by nobility and raised in Divinity's Reach; her and her brother never knew much about their birth parents and, of the two of them, Letallia was more okay with that. Her brother always wanted to unveil the mystery and find them, if they could, and this was something she never exactly discouraged, but she felt more close to the lives they were currently leaving and was relatively content to let the past be the past.

So, while they had their differences, they were overall thick as thieves (badumtss here bc her brother I have on theif, lol). Letallia primarily focused on the public appearances of the family - high society gatherings and dealings with the fellow nobility while her brother focused more on the common folk that served them, often to be found helping them with loose odds and ends.

So far, their two main galvanizing events have been discovering the history of their parents & joining the Orders of Tyria. Letallia chose the Vigil while her brother, always favoring the cloak and dagger type, joined the Order of Whispers. While they've had individual focuses before, separating paths to join the Orders is probably their first long-term departure from each others' sides. Letallia still collaborated with him where she could, though they each respected their allegiance to their Order and their secrets.

But! Igniting them onto such a path was the discovery that their parents spied for Queen Jennah's father. For Letallia, this reforged her desire to see, explore, and protect Tyria as a whole. She wishes to honor that legacy by striving for the unity she believes her parents fought and died for. Her brother took their deaths a bit harder, driven to stronger loyalty first and foremost to Kryta and their Queen. Ultimately, their motives may differ, but they strive for the same ultimate goal, which makes her relationship to her brother quite important to her.

This legacy also sort of solidifies her relationship with being a necromancer. The art can be unsettling, especially with the Risen so close at hand, but understanding is power and she believes all must live and serve in their own way. Meeting and befriending Trahearne also proves quite beneficial to this confidence. She quite enjoys working with him!

(Bonus fun fact, my google doc with all of this, inspired by that first post I think I did is called 'please don't store ur gw2 lore in tumblr tags' since it grew to be... more than I had anticipated when I started, lol)

[toska-writes]

helloo! i love your writing so much and i wonder would you like to write commander cody with padawan reader, it's after order 66. and as we know in bad batch s2 he's gone to AWOL right? so what if he go to other planets anywhere and meet reader again (let's pretend he already removed his chip lol) imagine how he feels guilt meeting his little padawan after trying to kill her and her master (obi-wan) and how the reader react meeting him again especially looking at her cody sun armor become gray like shadow unlike him.

(sorry if my english kinda messed up, and have a great day!! <3)

Wow, just wow

“Sunshine”

Summary: after order 66 Cody jumps at only the chance to get at least one person from his old life back- no matter the cost

Paring: Cody x GN padawan Reader (it’s platonic!)

Warning: hurt/comfort nightmares ptsd let me know if I missed anything

Word count: 1822

Notes: I’m very proud of this one and I hope you enjoy! It’s also not proofread because I need some sleep

Cody’s head hurt again.

But it wasn’t like last time, he was in control now and always will be.

“How are you feeling Kotes?” Rex came around the tables and laid a hand on Cody’s shoulder.

To be honest Cody wasn’t sure what he was feeling, if anything. Nausea sat in the pit of his stomach but he feared that it wasn’t just from the procedure he went through.

A hand reached up to the side of his head, the fresh bandage felt course under his hand- the all to familiar feeling of before.

“I’m fine.” Cody’s voice was raspy and burned his throat- Rex picked up on this and quickly went to get him a drink of water.

There he sat alone.

He was alone for a while now, but nothing like this. If you went back a few week you would see the small spark of hope illuminating in his eyes.

Cody wasn’t sure of a lot of things since the war ended but maybe it was the illusion of hope that he and Crosshair could escape together.

“Good soldiers follow orders.”

Then Cody went AWOL. Finally it seemed that he got his mind right- the headaches and the dreams that plagued him however said otherwise.

Rex walked back in. Cody’s eyes were clouded in thought as he sat unmoving on the table.

Placing a ginger hand on his knee Rex has never seen is brother in such a state. But the way he felt in this moment- finally getting his free will totally returned to him was something he would never forget.

“Hey Kotes,” Rex helped him to his feet and lend him out into the halls. “We found something you might need to take a look at.”

Cody almost instantly snapped back to attention as the pair of brothers made their way back to the ship they arrived on.

“A few radars picked up on some chatter from the bounty hunters guild.” Rex returned to the Captain Cody knows and loves, things were going back to how they use to be.

“Why would your crew have any interest in the guilds?” Cody questioned, a little slow to connect the dots. “Your fighting an empire here.”

Rex stared at him for a moment, his try at a sarcastic tone clearly flew over Rex’s head.

It was one of the only times Cody has ever seen Rex so unsure about what he was about to say. “We picked up Y/N’s location. The bounty for Jedi are unbelievably high and I’m worried if one of us doesn’t get there in time it might go sour.”

Cody froze in his seat, the end of Rex’s sentence seemed to go blurry. The moment replayed every hour of the day, awake or asleep. He memorized the moment when he watched Obi-wan fall from that terrible hight.

He remembered the look you gave him as he turned to you, your lightsaber coming up in your shaky hands staring at him.

“Cody what’s going on?”

“I- they made it?” Cody looked at Rex, the dark thought that he was playing a terrible joke on him.

Rex only nodded his confirmation. Waiting for Cody to see just want he would do.

You wouldn’t want to see him. Cody didn’t even want to see himself. The terrors he’s created would never wash off no matter how hard he scrubbed.

The armor that surrounded him all his life was striped away, just like everything he has ever known. His sunshine was stripped away as well.

Taking a shaky breath in Cody whispered. “Take me to them.”

•••

Your head hurt again.

It was just like the last time, the moment you realized nobody was on your side anymore.

The purge left you stranded by yourself, unsure of what to do you fled as far as you could.

The outer rim served its purpose for now but the empire was expanding, and the hunters became bolder with their search.

Against your better judgment you tried to reach Ahsoka, Hunter even but it was no use.

Maybe now you were by yourself. Cutoff.

You sat up straight in your makeshift bed. The sheets bawled into your fist as your chest heaved and sweet ran down your back.

You weren’t safe even in your own mind.

You watched him fall. The scream you let out as you lost him over the edge. Everyone around you went off.

Cody. Your Cody turned to you next- all around you heard the all too familiar sound of blasters raising. Cody aimed for you as you brought your weapon up, the thought of hurting any of them never crossed your mind before.

“Cody.” You had tried. “Cody what’s going on?”

The blaster that was shot at you was the moment you woke this time. Other times you weren’t as lucky to be spared with the memory.

The sky was masked with the darkness of the night, your clock told you at you barely sleep 2 hours since you tried to go to sleep.

You gathered yourself as practically dragged yourself to the only window in your “home”

This wasn’t home. Nothing would come close to what the word use to mean to you, but it was soemthing keeping you mildly safe.

The sky above never really changed, it was the only constant you found after the end of the war. The only thing you could depend on that would never harm you.

Your head buzzed again, for a split second you turned to your hidden saber, the weapon you couldn’t pick up since you arrived on this rock. The crystal within buzzed constantly in your ear, begging to be picked up once again.

It use to be a background noise that grounded you, but things have changed.

You stared into the darkness for a moment, the lightsaber wasn’t it. Turning your attention back to the outside world the familiar feeling felt crooked in your chest.

It wasn’t really right, but it was something you recognized none the less.

A cloak that you threw around yourself countless times before made its way to your shoulders- masking you from others and you left closing your door silently behind you.

For a moment you thought maybe, just maybe it was your master heat to tell you everything would be ok, to help you just as he had countless times before.

But you couldn’t think like that, like you use too. Hope burned within you as you followed the force you tried desperately to get rid of.

•••

Cody tried the comm channel he used countless times before, he could practically put it in with his eyes closed.

But of course no answer.

He did try once before- the first night he ran from the empire, alone in the back of a transport ship he tried to reach the Jedi he grew fond of.

It was one of the only instants the commanders eyes watered slightly and his nose ran.

Rex was waiting near by with the ship as he walked the streets of this planet alone. His armor was covered with a poncho Rex lent him and frankly it was the best he could do.

He hoped that you weren’t here, the disgusting streets and inhabitants made him sick. But what if this was better than see him again?

Cody shook that last thought. His hand shook slightly at his side which was a nervous habit he picked up a long time ago.

His eyes scanned the dark scenery for any sign that you might have been here, a sign Cody hoped nobody else could pick up on.

On instinct he turned down an alley to his left, this was definitely not the place to be at this time.

His eyes squinted trying to pin point a figure towards the end. This was the only time he wished for his helmet that didn’t seem his own.

Something ate at the inside of him again. His breath was sparse wondering if his eyes were playing tricks on him. If his mind was no longer his own.

The figure took a few steps from the shadows that engulfed them. The moon illuminated someone that haunted every minute of his life.

You held a blaster out in front of you, but this time you didn’t shake.

Cody didn’t dare take another step. His eyes were firmly planted on the ground as he kneeled down dropping his blaster in front of him.

“Cody?”

He could only nod, afraid that his voice would highlight just how vulnerable he felt in this very moment.

But he had to say something, he couldn’t leave you again.

“I’m- I’m so sorry kid.” His voice broke through his words. This uncertain feeling engulfed him like a flame showing no mercy. “Sorry, I’m sorry.”

You stared at him for a moment. Taking in the sight- clearly things were different. The sunshine was stripped from him. His eyes, though they tried to avoid you, seemed hollow.

You thought of two things in this moment.

You wanted to run, run from someone that could hurt you all over again, someone that you weren’t even sure you could trust.

Or

You could try to hang onto one of the only things that you so desperately needed. You needed someone.

The blaster clanked to the ground as you walked to Cody. Your guard was up but the tears betrayed what you were really hoping for.

You hoped that Cody was himself again.

Cody looked up, your familiar eyes caught his own. The tears that he dried so many times fell across your cheeks, and he only wished to dry them one more time.

“I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say, his mind left him and he could only mutter the only words that went through his head, as if they could make everything better.

You kneeled down with him. For a second Cody thought this might be a dream of his own and this was the moment that he would loose you once again.

But you stayed.

Quickly you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him flushed against you.

Cody wasted no time crushing you into him. You cling to him as he continued to whisper small apologies into your hair.

Through the muffled sniffles you voiced. “I liked your other armor kot’ika.”

For the first time in a while Cody found himself giving an actual laugh.

He nodded as he griped you even tighter as if he was afraid that if he let go you would leave.

“I think I could use some help painting it again.” He spoke a little louder. The emotions still sounded in his voice.

It was your turn to nod into his chest. For the first time in a while You found yourself crying tears of relief that finally someone was here for you again.

This time you weren’t going to let him go again.

_____________________________________

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @thereforepizza @padawancat97

[anakinskywalkerog]

My Very Soul (Chapter 30)

Anakin Skywalker x Jedi!Reader

Link to Chapter 29

Warnings: battle stuffs. incorrect details about Felucia probably tehe. less Ani than usual but that's because of the story/where we're getting. also sorry if the writing sucks, I think I'm better at writing angst than I am at writing battles/war stuff haha back to angst soon

Summary: You and your Master enter the battle on Felucia, where your plan of attack goes amiss

Word Count: 3.3k

"Commander," Captain Marlo said again, and only this time did his words fully rouse you out of your brain fog. "We've reached orbit."

         "Right," you nodded, pretending as if you hadn't just lost your head a little bit. You had been standing at a hallway viewport, watching the ship come out of hyperspace, when that same feeling of buzzing presences had descended on you. The hum in this ship was anticipatory, anxious, battle-hungry—in these presences were the sentiments of soldiers preparing for war. But you'd found yourself getting drawn in by their impressions. And then the humming had shifted, to other feelings, other...places? You'd felt others, children, families, the sounds of birds, the steps on cobblestones, speech in alien tongues...but it was impossible, surely, for you to sense such things when you were this deep in space. Focus, you reminded yourself. You mustn't let your sensitivity to the Force plague you now.

         You followed Marlo to the main hangar, where Yuma, Obi-Wan, and Anakin were preparing to depart the command ship. Even though you'd only been separated for a few hours, the sight of Anakin made your heart leap, made your presence relax. A smile fell upon your face as if involuntarily. Anakin grinned back, and you felt a similar swell of emotion in the Force, coming from him.

         "Everything is prepared, General," Marlo told Yuma, and Yuma saluted, giving the hand gesture that signaled to Marlo that it was time to return to his troops.

         "We've just had word from the existing battalion at the Guild headquarters," Yuma told you all. "Their scouts have intel that the Droid Legion has split into three factions, aiming to strike the front from different angles." At these words, Master Yuma pulled out a handheld holoprojector. A hologram of a rudimentary map arose between you.

         "Y/N and I will lead the 415th to cut off the southern platoon," Yuma instructed, pointing to a dot on the map. "Anakin, you'll take the 501st around here, on the southeast. Obi-Wan—"

         "The 212th and I will take the eastern side," Obi-Wan interrupted, nodding. "I assume time is of the essence." You felt a slight disturbance in the Force and looked over at Anakin, seeing him attempt to hide the traces of his pout, his eyebrows downturned.

         "Yes, it is," Yuma agreed, pocketing the holoprojector. "May the Force be with you both."

         "May the Force be with you," Obi-Wan replied, turning to the other side of the hangar, where his ship sat ready to take him to join the 212th on the flank vessel. A pause hung in the air as Anakin stood, as if caught in a Force hold, half-turned away.

         "I—" Anakin swallowed, looking pained as he glanced between you and Yuma. You felt your face flush.

         "We'll see each other again soon," Yuma told Anakin bracingly. You felt something move in the Force, something between Yuma and Anakin. You scowled, sensing the reason behind Anakin's distress, and finding it a little insulting.

         "May the Force be with you both," Anakin sighed, and with that, he turned to follow Obi-Wan to board his own ship, off to join the 501st.

         As the command ship was to remain in orbit, you followed Yuma onto one of the landing craft, holding onto the railing on the side as the ship took off. You stood facing at least one hundred clones, all armored and ready for battle. Marlo too had donned his helmet—you could only recognize him by the markings on his torso plate.

         "What's our play, General?" one of the clones asked Yuma. You wished you knew his name.

         "The Serrulean ambush," Yuma instructed, updating her holopad quickly as the lander made its way down to the surface. The other clones all received their instructions in their armor, and you heard rumbling chatter. You quickly ran over this tactic in your head—the Serrulean ambush was a stealth maneuver, devised to sneak up on the enemy from multiple sides. Clever, you thought, to use the Legion's own plan against them. You'd had all the war tactics memorized for months, but you still ran over this one in your head over and over again, remembering the role the Commander and General must play at every turn. There were no viewports aboard this lander, only the shaking of the ship and the feeling of movement. The air was tense and thick, a dingy remnant of what it must smell like in the clones' quarters. You felt the anticipation in the Force. You were surprised to feel the ship touch down onto the surface so quickly.

         As the lander's doors opened, upward toward the sky, and clones spilled out, you felt a blast of warm, humid air hit your face. It was not like the pleasant warmth of the air on Levangé—this air was assaulting, wet, and muggy, even slightly foul smelling. Within seconds you felt your hair sticking to your forehead, your body beginning to sweat under the thin armor you had put on for the first time. The Jedi insignia stood out, red, on your shoulder.

         "Serrulean formation," Yuma said quietly into her comm, and as the lander pulled up from the jungle, you watch the clones disperse in perfect harmony. You followed Master Yuma at the head of the remaining group of clones, making sure your steps were quiet.

         The jungle was truly unlike anything you'd ever seen. It was overgrown, colorful, and bright. The trees and the greenery—if you could call it that, multicolored as the flora around you was—loomed high above the troops. You'd never seen plants that looked like this, or plants of this size. Some of the plants resembled those that grew in the Temple gardens, in shape at least—but these were massive, as big as the tallest trees on Batuu, and brightly colored. You saw in the distance several rocky outcrops, and, farther away, what looked like mountain ranges. The ground underneath your feet was wet, soft, and warm. The brightness seemed unnatural, and it wasn't only the plants; the sky was a bright yellow, with purplish clouds hanging low over the jungle. Everything around you gave you that sickly, uncanny feeling—as if these colors were dangerous.

         Almost as if responding to your train of thought, you felt the disturbance before the danger, and you quickly reached out a hand, pulling the clone to your left out of the way just in time. Through no provocation, the giant succulent to the left of the group, a bright purple and lime green, erupted like a geyser, orange gas pouring out into the air right where the clone had just stood. The group processed this silently, pausing to watch the plant continue erupting before all of the orange gas disappeared from the air. The clone you had saved saluted you, and you saluted back, finally feeling useful. Yuma patted you on the arm, giving the group of clones the silent hand command to continue forward.

         The group walked for some time through the jungle, the clones holding their guns cocked. Your lightsaber hung at your side, as you were waiting for Master Yuma's cue to light it—lightsabers were to remain unlit during all stealth maneuvers. You felt outward through the Force, sensing the vibrations through the ground, feeling forward for any danger. That's when you felt them.

         About fifty yards ahead of you, you felt the pounding of metallic feet and the hover of Armored Assault Tanks. They weren't moving in your direction, but perpendicular to your path, in what you assumed was the direction of the Guild headquarters. You reached forward, lightly placing your hand on Yuma's arm. She nodded without looking back at you—she'd felt them too.

         At Yuma's hand signal, you and the clones fanned out through the dense underbrush, taking on a perfect Serrulean attack formation. You saw Yuma using her comm to signal silently to the other clone groups. You walked forward slowly, holding your breath, until you were in attack position. The droid troops were just paces in front of you now, and you looked around, seeing the clones readying themselves. You waited for the signal, trying to breathe out your fear.

         It happened all at once. At the signal, you leapt into the air, lighting your saber in one fluid motion. You had at least ten droids halved and in pieces on the ground before any of them had turned to regard your attack. But they were turning now, and you heard the clones behind you, their blasters going off with the sound of the lasers. The battle droids were all over the place, unsuspecting as they were of your attack. You'd gotten through a large chunk of them before the Armored Assaut Tanks had the chance to turn around.

         You felt it before it would happen and shouted at the clones nearest you to get out of the way. You jumped again, flying into the air like a flea, feeling the heat from the blast singe the bottom of your tunic. Your ears pounded, trying to recover from the sound the tank had made from the blast of its powerful guns. You landed amidst the bodies and the scattered armor, you heart beating firmly.

         Focus, you told yourself again, feeling the pang inside of you, turning away from the lost clones. You couldn't let yourself grieve. You had to remain in formation.

         "Y/N, the tanks!" you heard Yuma shout from your right side. Turning to see her running forward toward the hovering tank, ahead on your right, you spun quickly, running in between the confused battle droids, keeping your head low. You used your saber to block their useless shots, swiping through and destroying those you could as you ran. You kept your eyes on your target.

         The tank loomed above you, and you watched as another blast shot out of its gun, hearing the sound of it making contact with the battalion behind you. You ran flat out, as fast as you could, dropping to your back and sliding underneath the hovering craft, your saber held out above your chest like a sword.

         Slicing through the metal was easy—you used your momentum to carry your slide until the tank was no longer above you. You hopped up, blocking a blast from the command droid emerging from the top of the tank, and reflecting the bullet back toward its chest. The tank made a horrible grinding noise and fell to the earth. You turned and saw Yuma standing by her disabled tank. She nodded to you, smiling.

         It was then that you felt it—through the energy of the battle, through the sounds of the clones engaging the droid army, through the blasts from the tanks, something bigger was thundering your way, faster than any instrument of war could travel.

         "Yuma!" you shouted, turning to see her eyes light up in fear. You turned back to behold it: the largest creature you'd ever seen on land, thundering through the jungle, flattening trees and plants. A jungle rancor.

         The creature roared with fury, using its large arms and claws to tear apart the tank closest to it. It then roared again, turning on the clones, who started to aim their blasters at its head.

         "Don't engage it!" Yuma shouted into her comms. "Its armor is too thick." But it was no use—the jungle rancor ran forward, scattering clones and droids alike. The beast took no side, but it was out for blood.

         "Full back!" Yuma shouted again. You saw, from a distance, the clones retreating into the jungle, their guns aloft, shooting at the droids and at the rancor. But you couldn't follow them—you stood, with Yuma, in the middle of the platoon of droids, all who seemed to be following orders to shoot right at your hearts. You blocked their attacks with your sabers, but they were closing in. You found yourself back to back with your former Master.

         "What do we do?" you asked, your voice frantic, blocking the blasts from the droids as you saw the rancor raging through the platoon, grabbing droids and shoving them into its mouth.

         "We need to get out of here," Yuma said, stating the obvious. She was looking around quickly, assessing your surroundings. You did the same.

         "There!" you yelled, pointing to the nearest rocky outcrop behind the rancor. You could see the tiny dark line that indicated a cave high up in the rock.

         "Right," Yuma said, looking around as she used her saber to block blasts left and right. "On my signal."

         You nodded, but you had no need. You were communicating with your Master through the Force. This was a maneuver you'd done before, in different circumstances, though your situation had never been so dire as this.

         "Now!" Yuma shouted, and you both leapt into the air, in formation, your sabers spinning around you as you flew in an arc, out of the circle of droids, slicing through them with your blades. You landed lightly, your Master beside you, and the two of you watched as the rancor turned toward you, swiping away droids left and right with its giant claws.

         "Run!" Yuma yelled, but you didn't need telling twice. You turned and sprinted, holding your saber in a reverse hold behind your back, blocking blasts as you felt them come. As you climbed up into the jungle rock, you looked back, seeing the rancor turning on the tanks. They were attempting to fire at it, but the blasts were bouncing off its thick hide, going in all directions. You felt one of the blasts hit the ground beneath you, shaking the rock.

         "In here," you said, turning to give Yuma a hand up into the cave you'd seen from a distance. Droids were not intelligent enough to come find you in here, and so, you knew, you'd be safe hiding for the time being. But not for long, you thought, your heart hammering in your chest.

         "Farther back," Yuma instructed quietly, and as she climbed fully into the rock face, you both crawled, farther into the cave, into the darkness.

         You were surprised at how far back the cave went. This was no ordinary jungle, you realized, feeling the dampness of the rock floor and the humidity of the air.

         "This should be sufficient," Yuma whispered when you'd crawled far enough in that your forms were just barely visible. You turned back, your eyes struggling to adjust to the dim light, seeing Yuma kneeling and pulling out her chrono. The cave was not large enough for either of you to stand. You looked around, seeing that the tunnel kept leading inward, into the rock.

         "What now?" you asked quietly, seeing Yuma signaling with a few taps.

         "I've told Marlo to regroup with the others at the Guild," Yuma responded, looking back up at you. "We'll have to find our way there ourselves." Yuma gestured toward the dark tunnel, holding her saber high and trying to see forward.

         "How do you know there's another way out?" you asked, holding your saber up in the same fashion. You couldn't see much from the light it cast. The green of your saber and Yuma's against the rock gave the cave an eerie feeling.

         "I don't," Yuma responded. "Only one way to find out."

         You continued crawling forward, feeling Yuma's troubled presence behind yours. Eventually, the tunnel in the rock grew larger, and it widened enough for you to stand. You brushed your tunic, pushing your sweaty hair away from your face. It was slightly cooler in here than it had been in the heat of the jungle, but it was still humid.

         "You know," Yuma said casually, "you did very well out there. For your first battle, I mean."

         "Thanks," you said gruffly, walking forward and holding your lightsaber high. You were conflicted. On the one hand, you couldn't help but feel a hint of the same annoyance that you had felt on the ship, when Anakin had been reluctant to leave you. Why did everyone seem so protective? Why did Yuma feel the need to praise you, now? It was a little condescending. On the other hand, you were glad that Yuma was with you. Her presence made this feel like just another mission—like old times. It was comforting, having her support.  

         "Even though I know you'll be leading your own battalion, soon," Yuma continued, and you could hear a smile in her voice, "I think we still make a good team." In Yuma's presence you felt a hint of nostalgia, a warm feeling. You sighed.

         "We do," you said, turning and smiling at your former Master. She clasped your arm briefly, then gestured for you to continue forward.

         The cave seemed to grow darker and darker as you delved deeper into the depths of the rock. The ground under your feet started to feel funny. The darkness swayed a bit, as if the rocks themselves were humming, vibrating. You felt as if the cave was starting to moan, to chant—except it wasn't the cave. You heard the humming continue, a buzzing, a bell chiming somewhere, the voices rising in a swell.

         "Y/N? What is it?" you heard Yuma ask from behind you, her hand touching your shoulder.

         "I...I don't..." you said, scrunching your eyes shut, stopping in your tracks. It was like the ground was telling you not to continue. Yuma pulled on your shoulder and spun you around, holding her saber high so that she could look at your face.

         "Is it Dooku?" Yuma whispered, barely making a sound. Whatever she saw on your face, it was causing her to feel alarmed. Her presence was frightened. You blinked, trying to see what was really in front of you. Through your blurry vision, you saw Yuma pull out her chrono, signaling to someone.

         "No..." you started, trying to feel your way through the murky weeds of the humming, feeling the clouds coming for you once again. It wasn't Dooku—of that you were sure. You would recognize his presence. But...you heard the sounds of singing, some old, low song, the dark voices all singing the same note. You felt the sounds of voices rising and falling, heard the buzzing of a fly landing in a field of grass. You heard the grass, the wind swaying through it. You heard them all, all of them alive, living. You felt it coming. You felt the darkness meeting the light.

         Suddenly, the ground under you rumbled, as if the rock had been hit by another blast. The cave started to shake, the ground underneath you unstable. Slowly, the rock split, shifting, opening a chasm before you.

         "It's going to cave in!" Yuma shouted, pushing you out of the way. You fell, hard, fighting through the fog to reach for Yuma, but it was too late—you felt her arm slip away from yours, felt her sliding away from you, down into the depths of the cave.

         "Yuma! Master!" you yelled, frantically, but the humming was growing louder. The dark voices were swelling, their low notes chanting in the darkness, and you couldn't see. You couldn't feel. You reached out with your hands. "Master!" you yelled again, feeling the fear enter your presence, but it was no use. It was too dark. You felt the cave pulling you forward, swallowing you. Were you falling into the chasm? You couldn't know. The humming was all around you. The voices were getting louder.

         Something grabbed onto your wrists, pulling them together and binding them. The humming wouldn't stop. You reached out with the Force, pushing the humming back, pushing it off you. It was then that you felt the presence—a familiar presence. You wrenched your eyes open.

         "Hello, again," you heard in the woman's voice, and you stared into a pair of malevolent violet eyes.

************************************************************************

sorry for the cliff hanger!

NEW CHAPTER UP NOW AND IT'S 😭😭😭

luh you

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[gw2giftexchange]

last updated: January 31st 2024

FAQ | SIGN UP now closed!

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MODERATED BY: Hi, I'm Dot (they/them)! I'm 22, queer, and eternally sleepy. You can find my GW2 blog @dotmander.

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[crynwr-drwg]

Rakiit-do

I plan on eventually writing out my TesFic idea of a character for each faction, or two, and Rakiit-do is the first of them.

Short Description: Amidst the diverse and nomadic Baandari caravans that traverse the expansive terrain of Tamriel, Rakiit-do was raised in the enduring traditions of his people. Accompanied by two of his siblings, he embarked on a journey to Skyrim in search of fortune, where the fervor of war and the stench of desperation lay heavy on the land. Through a series of trials and tribulations, Rakiit-do eventually found his way to Riften, where his skills in stealth and persuasion led him to the hidden lair of the Thieves' Guild. With a sharp mind and quick wit, he sets his sights on carving out a place for himself in the city, determined to prove his worth as a skilled thief and rise to the top of the criminal hierarchy.

Below is a link to a page with much information about him, but below that, I've provided a cut with some pictures and information as well!

Personal History

Rakiit-do grew up in one of the many Baandari caravans that dot the surface of Tamriel, with its members made up mostly of his elder siblings and parents, including several Argonians and Redguards made up their ranks.

Accompanied by two siblings out of his nine, he split off from the caravan and made for the troubled lands of Skyrim, having heard of other groups doing the same with some success in recent years. Figuring they would either find their success as traders for the people or mercenaries when the rising conflict inevitably broke out.

After almost a year of little luck, and many insults to both pride and character from the local populace, the siblings split up amicably. His two siblings, his brother S'Vasha and his sister Dariit-la split off and followed their individual leads- promises of work in different holds. Rakiit-do lacked any such promises, instead following rumors and whispers towards The Rift in the south.

Arriving outside the city gates of Riften, Rakiit-do employed his learned skills of hiding his Baandari roots, playing the part of a more common Khajiit until he passed the Riften gate guards. Gaining entry into Riften, Rakiit-do started inquiring about the local underworld. He learned that there was a Thieves' Guild within the city, and they had a hidden base in the Ratway, a network of tunnels and catacombs beneath the city.

Knowing that it was risky to just walk into the Ratway and ask for the Guild's help, Rakiit-do decided to do some reconnaissance work. He spent several days wandering around the city, watching the comings and goings of suspicious-looking characters, and trying to pick up any gossip or rumors about the Guild. Eventually, he managed to overhear a conversation between a few shady individuals who were discussing the Guild's recent activities. Using his natural charm and persuasion skills, Rakiit-do struck up a conversation with one of the individuals and convinced him to introduce him to a member of the Guild.

The next night, Rakiit-do was led through the winding tunnels of the Ratway to a hidden door guarded by a couple of burly thugs. He presented himself as a skilled thief looking for work and was eventually brought before the Guild's leader, Mercer Frey.

General Physical Condition

Rakiit-do is a Khajiit with a striking appearance that commands attention. His coat is predominantly a rich, smoky grey hue, with patches of snowy white fur marking his chest and face, and black stripes stretching across his muscular frame, reminiscent of the patterns of a tiger. His build is strong and well-proportioned, with broad shoulders tapering down to a narrow waist, giving him a triangular physique that exudes both strength and agility. His green-yellow eyes glimmer with intelligence, often betraying a hint of mischief. Black hair tops his furred head, adding to his intimidating presence.

Apparel & Accessories

When it comes to his choice of attire, Rakiit-do favors practicality and functionality over fashion. His armor consists of a simple dwarven brass cuirass that provides adequate protection while allowing for ease of movement. Underneath the armor, he wears comfortable traveling clothes that keep him warm in the frigid Skyrim climate. His leather boots, gloves, and oilcloth hood provide additional protection from the elements while keeping his identity concealed during his activities.

[raybizzle]

"No Way Out" (1950) is a brilliant noir film debuting the acting career of legendary Sidney Poitier and starring an excellent cast that includes Richard Widmark, Linda Darnell, Stephen McNally, and Mildred Joanne Smith. The movie also features Ruby Dee and Ossie Davis in their first film together. By 1950, black actors with significant roles in Hollywood films were still uncommon, particularly in non-stereotypical roles such as medical doctors. Moreover, the Race Era was ending, so the opportunities for black actors mostly faded. However, a year before, James Edwards starred in "Home of the Brave," and Juano Hernadez starred in "Intruders in the Dust," which set a new trend for black male actors in Hollywood. In addition, the presence of Mildred Smith as the supportive and loving wife living in a middle-class family added to this new narrative. These subtle differences were giant leaps for Hollywood as it was risky for them to show black people other than stereotypical servants, field hands, mammies, Uncle Tom's, or slow-talking dimwits. So how does "No Way Out" differ from some of its precessors? "Home of the Brave" is about a black man in a war setting. "Lost Boundaries" and "Pinky" had a 'passing for white' theme with different story premises. "No Way Out" tells the story of a black man in a white man's everyday world as a professional. Darryl F. Zanuck produced the 1949 film "Pinky" and enthusiastically backed "No Way Out" after reading Lesser Samuels' script and soon assigned Joseph L. Mankiewicz to add his expertise in filmmaking. Zanuck wanted both movies made as they dealt with two different subject matters of black life. The search for a suitable actor for the black doctor Luther Brooks was a nationwide search by Zanuck and casting director William Gordon. Several dozen actors auditioned, but eventually, Gordon selected 23-year-old Poitier for the role. Ruby and Ossie Davies starred in the Broadway and American Negro Theatre play, "Anna Lucasta" for the West Coast road company, while Potier played lead in the Eastern show. However, the head of the American Negro Theatre of the New York Actors Guild, Fredrick O'Neal, was among the biggest supporters of the movie. He remarked: "It's the most honest (scripts) I have ever read on the subject. The resemblance between this story and life is strictly truthful." Overall, this movie has many layers, and if you're critical like I am, you'll see many social components addressed on race, class, and patriarchy. It's a beautiful cinematographic film with intense emotion and drama. The film dives into how hate blinds people from the truth, even when their life depends on it. Richard Widmark did a superb job in his challenging role as the hate-filled low-class criminal mourning the death of this brother and the symbolic end to his truths. And Linda Darnell, the bewildered damsel trying to figure out the world around her while struggling with her prejudices, did an excellent job in the movie. I highly recommend this film and all of its glory and energy. You will be satisfied. Director: Joseph L. Mankiewicz Writers: Joseph L. Mankiewicz, Lesser Samuels, Philip Yordan (contract writer) Starring Sidney Poitier, Richard Widmark, Linda Darnell, Stephen McNally, Mildred Joanne Smith, Dots Johnson, Ossie Davis, Ruby Dee, Harry Bellaver, Stanley Ridges, Maude Simmons, Amanda Randolph Storyline When a white patient in a hospital dies under the care of a black intern (Sidney Poitier), the victim's racist brother (Richard Widmark) seeks to destroy the doctor's career. Although the hospital's idealistic Chief Resident (Stephen McNally) tries to diffuse the escalating tension, the victim's ex-wife (Linda Darnell) seems to go along with the vengeance-seeker until she realizes she's on the wrong side. https://www.daarac.ngo https://www.daaracarchive.org/2017/09/no-way-out-1950.html Available on Blu-ray (Region B only). https://www.amazon.com/Way-Blu-Ray-combo.../dp/B07BX6Q789 Available on DVD (Region A), but it's out of print. Also, on streaming services. https://www.amazon.com/Way-Out-Fox-Film-Noir/dp/B000CNE08S

[jeremy-ken-anderson]

Wandering Damage

I've done a number of Wandering Damage builds in action RPGs, from a classic Minion Master in Guild Wars to a robotic Mastermind in City of Heroes to a Witch Doctor Maximum Fetish build in Diablo 3.

Necromancer is the clear pick for such a thing in Diablo 4, but this season someone else in our play group picked necro so I'm going for Druid. And I decided I wouldn't go with a guide...so I'm more or less writing one.

The following includes spoilers for mechanics in Diablo 4's expansion Vessel of Hatred.

The base challenge is to have four skills: Ravens, Poison Creeper, Wolves, and One With Nature, and to have the first three on the skill bar.

This is a big ask, since you get a total of six skill slots. Thankfully the active buttons on the summons are slightly different use cases (a ranged circle on the ground for ravens, a self-centered burst of poison and immobilize for creeper, and a single-target massive damage spike for wolves) but still most builds want a builder, a spender, a defensive, and an ult. Unless you can get so much cooldown reduction that you can use one of the summons' active power almost constantly, the three summons are none of those things.

What I ended up with is a Werebear builder and spender, and Hurricane instead of a defensive, with ult being entirely ignored. Hurricane has an option to debuff the damage of enemies hit by 20%, which is especially nice when I'm playing this with a group of friends.

Werebear has other benefits: It has a lot of tanky passive powers, meaning I can get away with not having an active cooldown to defend myself. Instead I'm just tough.

I've tripled down on the Wandering Damage idea: With the rune words mechanic for the new expansion one of the options summoned in spirit wolves. I hooked that effect to my Evade. When I dip and weave it fills up a bar to summon wolves. The latest season also includes Moonrage Aspect, which gives a chance to summon a wolf on kill (or hit vs boss), and just passively gives +3 to the Wolves skill, which can make the wolves do pretty crazy damage.

Offensive Options that Fit the Build:

Moonrage: Like I said, occasional bonus wolves and bonus damage per wolf.

Stampede: +1 wolf, +1 creeper, +1 raven. Since I'm using all three, I get maximum value from this. Also, bonus damage from all companions.

Shepherd: Bonus damage based on how many companions you have. This percent boost can go as high as x13 with this build, because Stampede and One With Nature bring you to 7 wolves, 3 creepers, and 3 ravens.

Shockwave: Pulverize is my werebear core skill, so making it into an AoE line increases its utility.

Retaliation: This build spends most of its time at 100% Fortify, so something that gives +% damage based on how Fortified you are seems pretty good.

Subterranean: Adds a Landslide effect to the Poison Creeper active. Big pile of bonus damage to what is already kind of our Ult stand-in.

Stormcrow: Adds lightning damage to the Ravens, speeds up the duration of the DoT in the area, and also inflicts Stun on everyone in the area. This has HUGE synergy with tempered affixes that increase the Ravens Active Area.

Alpha: You have werewolves instead of wolves. They do a minimum of double damage.

Ursine Horror: Causes spikes to come up from where you do Pulverize that do a DoT. Want to see whether this makes a gigantic DoT if combined with Shockwave aspect.

Assistance: Calls in your reinforcement more often. This definitely qualifies as "summon" and "wandering damage" so I think it's good for this build...but it does waste power because Assistance aspect has an effect when you use your ult and this build has no ult.

Changeling's Debt: Deal bonus damage to poisoned enemies as a werebear. Since this build uses Poison Creeper and gives its DoT a higher duration, this will almost always apply. However, if most of the build's damage comes from the companions themselves this might not be worth it; Doubling the power of my weakest hit isn't important.

Tempest: Similar issue. Not sure whether Hurricane is worth buffing. But if I can keep Hurricane running it gets stronger.

Stormshifter: +5 levels to my werebear skills if I use Hurricane. This seems really strong.

Rushing Wilds: Technically not a "more damage" skill but so specific to companions it's worth a mention. Gain a speed buff every time I cast a companion skill, which is Very Often.

Spirit Bond: Also not a "more damage" skill, giving essentially damage reduction because it redirects damage from you to your companions and also says they can't die. Might be worthy at higher Torment tiers, but for now they're never dying anyway.

Moonrage, Stampede, Shepherd, Subterranean, Stormcrow, Alpha.

[Update for Late-Game!]

I've reconfigured it, taking out werebear entirely. It turns out Grizzly Rage is AWFUL for Companion Druid, because it disables all non-Bear skills and while Druid has a lot of "make x count as y" effects I don't think "make Companions count as Werebear" is a thing. Instead, I noticed that changing element of a Companion makes it count as Nature Magic, which is happening to all 3 (Wolves become lightning with Storm's Companion, Ravens become lightning with Stormcrow, and Poison Creeper becomes earth with Subterranean, so I changed a BUNCH around:

Petrify is now the ult. It's a nice hybrid ult/defense, since it's a huge area stun. And it enables getting into the middle of the enemy crowd while not a bear. Instead of Maul/Pulverize we have Fierce Earth Spike and Primal Landslide. This gets you extra procs of your Pack Leader class skill to refresh your Companion skills, while still providing Fortify.

Since we don't have werebear form we remove all the skills for that and instead take a bunch of the "bonus damage from Nature Magic use" in the ult section of the tree, as well as the "bonus damage while human." We also swap out the glyphs and boards: We want the boards Constricting Tendrils, Earthen Devastation, Heightened Malice, and Untamed, and we want the glyphs Keeper, Wilds, Human, Tracker, and Earth and Sky.

Two uniques that absolutely go wild with this build are Storm's Companion and Yen's Blessing. Getting either will be a HUGE jump in your power.

[eleanawrites]

Path of Fire is a series of books that chronicle a being that has lost so much but could end up getting even more. Will you let yourself step out of the shadow your past has cast over you? Or will you fall prey to the things that wish to see you perish?

Where will you be when the dawn comes?

The history of Ioria is wrought with myths and legends that have transcended centuries— some becoming muddled in the process— but none have stood the test of the time like the fables of the Ancient Protectors.

The Dracaryean.

Great beings— having the ability to shapeshift into fire breathing behemoths— that were blessed by Phenir himself. A race borne from fire that looked after the inhabitants of Ioria, and the land beyond, for centuries. That is until the War of Desolation; wherein the Great Protectors had been betrayed by the very beings they had been sworn to protect. It was a war that lasted centuries until the Dracaryean finally played their last hand…

They disappeared— never to be seen again— and reality became stories that soon became the legends parents told their young at night; how if you were good, and pure of heart, a Dracaryean would come and grant you a wish. No one within Ioria believed the Dracaryean would return— if they existed to begin with— to the plain of mortals.

That is until you appeared…

This story will be 18+ for depictions of violence, profanity, alcohol consumption, sexual themes, and blood.

Customizable MC: name, nickname, gender, sexuality, appearance, skills, and various other things that will appear as the story progresses.

Variety of scale colors for your draconian form too: white, iridescent, silver, gold, red, blue, purple, green, and brown.

Play as a Dracaryean!MC that has just lost everything they’ve held dear but is everything as it appears to be? Are the fables your own people have told you truly the truth? Or is the truth something no one could ever dream of?

Figure out what it means to be a Dracaryean and the life that you now have to live away from everything you once knew.

Find your soulmate within a world that you’ve only heard stories about.

Romance 1 of 8 options (with possible poly routes).

Explore Ioria and meet the various inhabitants dotting it’s varied landscape.

And, as always, remember to have fun!

Cedric/Cedra [M/F] The Best Friend

23 [5’10” | Emerald Green Eyes | Dirty Blonde Hair]

A cinnamon roll embodied within a person; they’ve always been by your side ever since you arrived within their village. With dreams of becoming a grand Knight— like in the stories they’ve heard from their sister— and want nothing more than to protect you too. They’d go to the ends of the earth for you if you’d simply ask. Just make sure you don’t ask too much of them.

Ayden/Ayleth [M/F] The Mage

24 [5’6” | Dark Brown Eyes | Auburn Hair]

A reclusive mage that you find during your travels. A person that finds solace in silence and their thoughts; even if they don’t like what they hear back. However, beneath all the thorns, is a heart that just wants to be appreciated. Will you allow them the opportunity to showcase who they truly are? Or will they be lost within their own self-inflicted shadow?

Eric/Esmé [M/F] The Merchant

28 [5’8” | Gray Eyes | Dark Brown Hair]

With charm and wit oozing from their person, it’s no wonder they’re the leader of the Merchants Guild. A flirtatious quip always passing from their lips as they talk; although you’re never sure if they’re being serious or not. All you do know is that you need them, and their influence, in order to get closer to what you truly need. Answers.

Oliver/Olivia [M/F] The Knight Commander

25 [5’11” | Amber Eyes | Onyx Black Hair]

A no-nonsense kind of person that takes their duty to the realm very seriously. Upholding honor and justice wherever they go. Having someone like that owe you a life debt is very useful— especially since they’ll do almost anything to clear it— and you’ll learn more about them within your travels. Discovering the person beneath the steel.

Leon/Lena [M/F] The Assassin

25 [6’1” | Ice Blue Eyes | White-Blonde Hair]

Sent by the Ruler of Ioria to take you to the capital city, L isn’t one to disappoint. Their cunning mind, silver tongue, and finely tuned skills showcasing that; an icy barricade surrounding their heart. Can you show them the warmth they’ve been missing? Finding the heart of gold underneath? Or will they remain a mystery to you?

Valin/Valeria [M/F] The Ruler

31 [6’3” | Violet-Gold Eyes | Silvery-Blonde Hair]

The Ruler of Ioria that has brought prosperity back within its borders; all the people rallying underneath their banner. Although not many have ever seen them in person, as they mainly stay within the walls of the castle, but many within have spoken of their generous heart, courageous spirit, and intelligent mind. Is any of that true? Well, you’ll have to find out whenever you meet them.

Phenir [M] The God of Day

1000+ [6’6” | Golden-Red Eyes | Fire Ombré Hair]

One of the Twin Creators that made the world, and Ioria, as you know it. Phenir is as hot-tempered as the very entities he represents. With a youthful spirit, a boisterous laugh, and a excitable approach to things. Phenir is only a being you’ve heard tales of but when you meet him? Will you be able to capture his heart?

Revian [F] The Goddess of Night

1000+ [6’4” | Silver Eyes | Raven Black Hair]

The other half of the Twin Creators; Revian is the Mother of Darkness. Giving life to all those that live underneath the moon and stars. She’s as cold and calculating as ice, with an even sharper intellect, and an aloof approach to things. Unlike her brother, Revian doesn’t let people see the cards she holds. Much rather having people prove their worth, as she does the same, before she lets her guard down. Will you be the one she does so with?

Eamon [M] The Guardian

45 [6’2” | Sapphire Blue Eyes | Light Brown Hair]

The man that your parents chose to guard you; who’s been like a second father to you. He thinks of you as his own and would do anything to protect you. Even if that means giving up his own life to do so.

Alister [M] The Heir

10 [4’8” | Electric Blue Eyes | Golden Blonde Hair]

The nephew of the current Ruler of Ioria. A bubbly boy that loves everyone and just wants to make people happy. Is all smiles and laughter whenever you meet him.

Keane [M] The Brother

28 [6’0” | Forest Green Eyes | Dark Brown Hair]

The younger brother of the current Ruler of Ioria, and the father of Alister, that has many issues with his sibling. He’s sarcastic, uncaring of many things, and doesn’t want to be messed with.

Daealla [F] The Sister

36 [5’11” | Violet Eyes | Golden-White Hair]

The older sister of the current Ruler of Ioria. She’s very protective of her family and will do anything for them. She’s a lot more sociable than her siblings are but she’s wary of strangers.

Scarlett [F] The Thief

28 [5’3” | Light Brown Eyes | Black Hair]

You meet her at random intervals throughout your adventures— always doing different things— and she’s always happy to see you. Though I’d watch your valuables.

Leliana [F] The Servant

24 [5’5” | Hazel Eyes | Dark Red Hair]

One of the servants that helps you into the castle during the Masquerade Ball. She’s fairly quiet but knows the lay of the land better than anyone. Will offer you valuable insight if you’re willing to listen.

DEMO (Old)

[thatonebirbnerd]

On Fandom Caucasity

Disclaimer before I begin: I am not infallible and I am not immune to bias. If I have made an error in wording, something just doesn't read the way it should, or if you think this post is pointless or misguided, you are free to tell me without fear of a hostile response and I will act accordingly.

I became acquainted with the term used in this title recently. As a white/Ashkenazi woman, it's almost certainly not mine to use, but as someone who is quite tired of the racist micro- and macroaggressions in the Guild Wars 2 fandom, I would appreciate if I could use it to make a point. Thank you for your understanding.

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Caucasity rhymes with "audacity" (for good reason) and denotes a stereotypical white person's behavior, most commonly including arrogance and entitlement. More specifically, you might say someone has the caucasity to do something racist and then throw a fit when they're called out for it.

Unfortunately, I have seen this specific scenario play out several times here, most recently with someone who I don't think intended their post to come across as badly as it did. OP in this case devised a well-intentioned headcanon, but fell into a trap of racist implications and got frustrated when they were called out for it. The fallacy they fell to here is the idea that BIPOC have to do something to earn representation in media. To be clear, since this was most likely a product of internalized bias rather than active bigotry, I give said OP the benefit of the doubt, and would merely appreciate it if they apologized to those affected and did some self-reflection. But their response as it stands currently is an example of caucasity in action.

Previous instances have involved things like Braham being drawn or replicated in-game with pale skin, which I see as a more egregious and intentional decision, and a good reason to cease interaction with the people responsible. Maybe his red hair might be tripping some internalized-racist default settings in people's brains, I don't know what their excuses are - but his skin tone is a mellow medium brown, and there is no changing that. There was also another very questionable post about the use of the makeover kit, but I can't recall the exact details right now. I just know that it's always about norn, because apparently people assume they have to be a mono-ethnoculture just because they take heavy inspiration from Norse legend.

Of course, such an assumption ignores the fact that norn culture is also heavily inspired by indigenous American beliefs; sadly, we all know ArenaNet hasn't been the most respectful of that either. I feel it is also worth some note that none of this controversy about Canthan norn previously happened with dark-skinned norn, but I will only leave that there as food for thought rather than making extrapolations.

Anyway. Here's what I have to say about the two most common reactions I see when people are called out.

"Wait, no, I meant this instead!" I understand that it hurts to have your internalized biases exposed; it should be taken for granted that since I'm from a sheltered white upper-middle-class family, I've been there plenty of times. I also understand that if you’re not straight and/or cis, you might assume you are immune to internalized biases since you had to overcome a subset of them to be yourself. (Sorry, but no, you are not immune to further bias; no one is.) I know it’s easy to get upset, especially if you’re rejection-sensitive (hi), but all you have to do is take a deep breath, apologize, learn from your mistakes, and move on.

"Why does it matter?" I hear this most often from Europeans. It's true that different parts of the world have a different idea of racial divides, and that you might see objections as being American-centric. But in doing something like erasing the features Braham got from his dad just because you can't actually look at Borje the Sun Chaser and connect the genetic dots in your head, you're ignoring, erasing, and thus offending the real people behind the screen, around the world, who see themselves represented in Braham. That is why your decisions matter.

The above is also, I would say, also a result of the concept of BIPOC having to work to deserve representation - an idea you will see more boldly visible among, let’s say, fans of The Rings of Power who get angry about seeing dark-skinned elves. And just so I’ve said this out loud: they don't have to do anything. Let them exist, and let them exist on your screen; relinquish the caucasity, the entitlement and arrogance, that makes you get in their way. If that idea threatens you, please do some thinking about it, for all our sakes.

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Someone else in the GW2 community was the spark for my writing this post and provided a few crucial points, and though they requested anonymity, I'd like to thank them anyway for their contributions and insight.

[valerianavow]

Let's Talk About War.

The history we learn about Amphibia is pretty sporadic. Sometime between what Andrias calls "a thousand years ago" and present day, a lot of things are implied to have happened- and a lot of different conflicts are mentioned in one-off lines that don't get expanded on. Mind you, the map of Amphibia that we see is not that big. The habitable land can be traveled in less than a few weeks from a very remote region to the capital city. There's no distant foreign invaders, no empires on the horizon that are coming to take over Andrias's kingdom. The question is, then... who's fighting who?

S1E12 - Hop-Popular

Amphibia's society is a race-based social caste city-state monarchy. Marcy says as much, after studying it for a few months. In what appears to be a one-state government with no other societies in competition, why are there so many standing armies sitting around? We honestly know the answer to this already, since Grime tried to execute Hopediah for the crime of being politically active in opposition to the toad occupation. It's played for laughs because this is a show for children, but that is not a normal thing that happens in society. That's the kind of tactics that fascist colonial empires use against their political opponents.

With that in mind, every war in this list is likely either the Newtopian troops invading a formerly independent region of Amphibia, or the fallout of that conquest where people from those regions rise up in arms against him in a revolution.

We don't have a good idea of what the current year is in the world of Amphibia, so it's not clear how long ago each of these dates are. Additionally, details about some of these conflicts may be fabricated or fictional in-universe. If a conflict has a year attached to it, I'm inclined to believe it's part of the world's history instead of being a story in the world, though.

The Horsefly Rebellion - ? vs. ? - "`48"

S2E19 - The Dinner

First off, I have no idea who Campbell Bilgewater is. We're also given no specific date range, so we have no idea what century this happened in. If it happened in 1848, that was at the same time as the Bogwater Wars, which is mentioned next. It could possibly be another name for the Bogwater Wars- Pollyanna Plantar wasn't around much longer after she wrote about them in her diary, so it's possible the name she used for the wars she participated in is outdated by now. Maybe the Horsefly Rebellion was Newtopia's name for the Bogwater Wars that they used after winning the following conflict. But, that's not necessarily supported by evidence in the show, it's just me connecting dots.

The Bogwater Wars - ? vs. ? - 1848

S1E8 - Family Shrub

A village in Frog Valley is named Bog Bottom. We see a variety of non-swampy terrain throughout Amphibia while the Plantars are traveling, so it's possible that "Bogwater" refers either to Frog Valley where it's more swampy than the rest of Amphibia, or Bog Bottom itself. Additionally, during the episode where Ms. Croaker meets Jonah again, he mentions it's been 30 years since "Bogwater Canyon" and that "the guild would take him back" if he took her down. (credit for this connection goes to thesugarcookieday!!)

Is he just a bounty hunter after a target, or were the two actually spies in a conflict during or after the Bogwater Wars? Did the Bogwater Wars take place in Bogwater Canyon? Why was Sadie Croaker on somebody's list, and why did she tell the kids that it'd be "very bad for everyone" if they heard about Jonah attacking her? Was she someone who did the same kind of things Grime attempts to execute Hop Pop for?

Western Toad Invasion - Western Toads vs. Frog Valley militia? - 1853

S1E8 - Family Shrub

"Western Toads" implies toads from the West were the aggressors in this conflict, which probably refers to the West Tower toad army. If I had to guess, I think that the Bogwater Wars were the combined villages of Frog Valley uniting and throwing Newtopian forces out, and then the Western Toad Invasion was a war started five years later by Newtopia to re-conquer the Valley and establish a tower and standing army there - the South Tower, where Grime eventually takes command.

S1E20 - Reunion

If my theory is right about the Horsefly Rebellion and the Bogwater Wars being two names for the same conflict, that would explain why both Grime and Hopediah know a lot about it - it would have been a local conflict to Frog Valley. Both have shown interest in general military history throughout Amphibia, though, so it's not hard evidence to support my theory.

Both the Bogwater Wars and the Western Toad Invasion definitely happened in the 1800s, because Pollianna wrote about her participation in them and lived 180X-185X. Notably, her date of death is marked as "185X", meaning she died in the years following the Western Toad Invasion ('54-'59).

The Sand Wars - Newtopia Army vs. ? - Recent

S2E4 - Toadcatcher

Since Yunan is the youngest newt to ever achieve the rank of General, and was also a major player in this conflict (assuming that she isn't lying in her constant character introduction), it must be recent- or still ongoing. It could explain why there is no standing army besides the guard in Newtopia when the toads show up. Newts don't appear to be involved in toad army affairs or leadership, the toads are just expected to enforce and collect their laws and taxes. Of course, she does also say she had an army "once", so maybe she just got them all killed somehow...

General Insurrection & Failed Coup D'état - Present Day

S1E20 - Reunion

S2E20 - True Colors

History is still deciding how this particular conflict is going to shake out, but it doesn't feel like it's the first time Andrias has seen rebellion like this by far. It's happened before, and will continue to happen as long as the current political situation allows it to, like Marcy said. Andrias's lazy stopgap government is a corrupt farce that lives for war. It's what he's been dreaming of for a thousand years. As soon as he has that key back, he goes to invade another world. And Amphibia has seen so much of that, in the millennium he's spent stranded there.

What an incredibly well-written show.

[etherealjaunt]

Should I get this cookie run game? I'm interested to know what it's like and I'm looking for an experienced person to ask if they reccomend it or not

It’s a bit long but i hope this gives you a clear idea of what the games are like as well as the company behind them: Cookie Run Ovenbreak (the “main” game): Gameplay: - 2d side scroller - you run and collect jellies/points - 2 main keys: jump/slide - each cookie has different perks and abilities - compete in races where the winner with a higher score gets rewards - compete in guild races with other members to beat other guilds for rewards - events and new cookies released often PROS: - cute art, music, and characters - fun for a while CONS: - extremely grindy, it became a chore really fast and i dreaded playing it - it’s PAY TO WIN if you’re a new player and haven’t invested a lot of time yet to make it “bearable” - new cookies are generally the “META” meaning you need them to score well (thus P2W) - it can be difficult to keep up/score well enough if you fall behind because of the constant new “you must get this new cookie” updates - events are very repetitive Yes/No? I personally would say no after playing it for a while. It maybe fun for the first while but it gets grindy and boring. == Puzzle World (the “match 3″ game): Gameplay: - matching game - unlock/use cookies with different abilities/power ups PROS/CONS: - i can’t really list these since i’m not interested in matching games Yes/No? If you’re into matching games and you like characters then sure ==

Cookie Run Kingdom (the farm/pvp game): Gameplay: - new, so easy to catch up atm - farm resources to create items - decorate your kingdom with buildings and deco items - small pool of cookie characters (for now) - pvp system with a customizable team of cookies to fight each other - story/lore to follow with story map - dialogue and voices available - each cookie has different skills and stats - frequent events - guilds will probably be released soon PROS: - one of the easier and more ‘forgiving’ type farm games - very cute art, music, and characters - many interactions you can do with the cookies and the decorations/buildings - combat system is fun - clear timeline of events and upcoming events CONS: - it crashes so damn much - it’s imbalanced in terms of cookies, (ex. you ABSOLUTELY NEED espresso to win) - not as P2W as ovenbreak CURRENTLY, but i do see the possibility since that’s how they messed up their old game Cookie Wars - unclear at times and has translation errors (ex. details about the buff items for pvp is inconsistent with KR text) - it’s not very balanced with overall character skills and items (ex. attack speed is kind of useless but they still make it a “thing”, and crit resist)

Yes/No? If you’re really interested in trying the cookie run games, this is probably the one you should go for. It’s still new (released in late january 2021) so it’ll be easy for you to catch up. You can get a head start when things become more P2W (which they most likely will) But be prepare for crashes and frequent long maintenances. == Devsisters (the company itself): Before deciding, I think it’s good to also know a bit about the company. I want to make it clear that they are not an indie company. It is a corporation that is owned and run by men. The management team behind this company purposely chose the name Devsisters as a marketing tactic so investors and customers were “more likely” to choose to work with them when they think the company is run by women. They have a very long history of showing misogyny within their games despite the cute characters and supposed representation. If you want to read about it in detail, you can check it out here:

{{WARNING: it may be upsetting and have sensitive content such as clear misogyny and homophobia}}  twitter(DOT)com/I_love_My1a/status/1360645981918744578 (Also just in case someone tries to argue since it has happened) Many KR players HAVE contacted the team about these issues a long time ago. The company waited a long time and MASS REPLIED to all reports with the SAME COPY AND PASTE MESSAGE of in a nutshell: “sorry we can’t do anything”. But are super quick to take action when men are mocked/insulted in usernames/messages == Conclusion: What i’m trying to say is, if you do decide to play the games or just join in the fandom(+ consume the cute character content), it’s good to be aware that the people managing it may not be genuine and the games can be quite P2W.

Some players found it difficult to keep playing or staying with the series after these many incidents came to light, some found it even difficult to join the fandom...

They are not much different than the big triple A game companies that have a long history of questionable actions/decisions behind closed doors. (cough blizzard+riot)

The artists and the creative team themselves are still the MVP of the company and the reason why the game is still alive today. (I truly think they’re just trying to do what they can to make a living since it is quite difficult to get an art type job especially in South Korea with so many competitors) 

I personally refrain from purchasing too much and think that it’s best to directly support the artists of the team since they do have their own personal social media online.

*~*~*~*TL;DR*~*~*~* It’s a cute game but you don’t need to play it to enjoy it. I personally think that the main success factor are their characters, which you can very well enjoy them on their own without touching the games at all. I hope this was informative and helpful for you! FINAL NOTE: I want to clarify that most of what I said are my opinions only. BUT the contents of the link and the history of the company is real. The evidence is mostly in that tweet but also deeper if you want to look further.

[tiredassmage]

remembered i had a wife today, and ofc that means i played dress up with her (smth smth duality of gamer)

[khorren]

About a month after Serenity has left the group post-War Eternal Ridley goes to Ruby to find out what happened. Ruby's reluctant at first, of course, as the manipulation of the family she's been doing for generations is spinning out of control and all the threads are coming undone. Sure she's still got the Dragon Champion on her side but the Commander? No one knows where she is and people are starting to talk. And depending on how this conversation goes she could lose the Dragon Champion too...

Ruby comes clean. She tells Ridley that Serenity knows she's part of the family, that most of the things in her life happened due to Ruby playing an elaborate game. Ridley's heartbroken. She knows she's been keeping secrets from Serenity too (that they're the same person) but she had no idea that so much of the mesmer's life was manufactured. She had to go correct this.

She went straight to Aurene and the pair took off in search of Serenity. It took several months for them to find her. She was with Sienna of course, a few miles outside of a village in the Janthir region. They arrived at the right time; the locals were not comfortable with the skyscale and griffon lurking outside of the town. About to get into a physical confrontation Aurene screeches out of the sky. "Champion!" She roars and swoops in front of the locals. Serenity completely baffled she got called champion, also in the presence of Aurene gets a bit woozy. Ridley comes running shortly behind, slams herself down in the middle of the rioting villagers and bubble slams them away. They panic and run back to the village, it was a frickin full sized Elder Dragon and a very angry guardian glowing with prismatic magic staring them down.

Once things are calm Ridley goes somewhere quiet with Serenity and pleads for forgiveness as she comes clean about their connection. It took some time and several visits before Serenity fully grasped everything and was able to connect the dots. Eventually it was time to return to the guild. Something was calling from afar...

[yoditorian]

lacuna- part 3

din/reader

she’s dropping early because i have no patience and i’m extremely proud of the last 2/3rds of this. thanks as always to my darling @brothersdrxke​ for being encouraging and yelling with me 💛

MASTERLIST

word count: 3.5k

warnings: swears, overuse of italics, discussion of violence including graphic injury, mentions of scars (causes not discussed), one use of ‘their’ as a pronoun for reader, usual poetic smut, 18+ no babies thanks

You didn’t think you’d be back here.

Maybe ever, but definitely not after only a couple of years, and your smile is tight as you flick the lever to lower the small freighter’s boarding ramp. You’re sure it won’t come back if you drop it. 

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?” Qin’s teeth are sharp in his own smile. 

“You’re not.”

His snarled response is cut off by Ran’s booming laugh before it starts. Your old boss claps him on the shoulder, saying something in lieu of a real greeting about how he’s missed your jokes. It’s a little tense, the way the men take you in for a moment. You didn’t wear your uniform, there’s not a thing on the ship that points any fingers towards the Rebellion, but it’s clear you’ve done well for yourself since leaving. Something they clearly have not, judging by the holes in the jacket tied around Qin’s hips.

“Thanks for letting me stay, system hopping takes a lot longer when your hyperdrive’s busted.” You relax a little, let your shoulders drop, let them think you’re more than comfortable under their scrutinizing gazes. 

“We’ve probably got something laying around here you could use. For a price, of course.” Ran grins, in that predatory way that he always has. He seems so unassuming, but you know different. You know better.

“Your prices always land me on the wrong end of a blaster. I’ll take my chances in open space, thanks.” 

He laughs heartily again, and you can breathe. At least they seem to believe you. 

Ran had offered you your old room, something you’d graciously thanked him for, and left you to it. The station seems to run the same, more or less. He hasn’t hired anyone in your place, or in Din’s for that matter, but it’s difficult to find somebody without loyalties to any one side of the war. Leaving the spots open for now is probably safer for him. You’d raised a hand in greeting to Xi’an when you passed her in the hall, she’d hissed in return but any time she didn’t threaten to cut you is always a win. So at least you’re still in somebody’s good graces here.

Still, good graces don’t last long. And neither does your patience. It’s only a few hours into the night cycle on the station when you creep out of your room and towards the main hangar. Your old workspace looks exactly the same, a few bits and pieces missing, but mostly untouched by time and sticky fingers. Good. It takes less than an hour to completely gut the bench. Every single old motivator, circuit board, gear, and valve packed up neatly in the cargo hold of the ship. There’s still larger engine pieces that the base mechanics are in desperate need of, but Shara’s working on that lead. You find a black marker lying on a nearby workbench and draw a big smiley face on the dulled metal. For good measure.

It’s with a deep breath, and a prayer you never have to return, that you maneuver your ship up and out of the station. You ease it into lightspeed, the definitely-not-busted hyperdrive humming, and disappear. 

“Did you think I don’t keep tabs on people, Mando?”

Din would rather go swimming on Mustafar, or get swallowed by a Krayt dragon, or be literally anywhere else in the galaxy than the hangar on Ran’s station. How he’d even known he’d joined the Bounty Hunters’ Guild is a mystery to him, but the call came through nonetheless. The new representative on Nevarro, a very theatrical man if their short contact was anything to go by, had popped up in the holo-com display talking about a special assignment and given him coordinates he knew all too well. Whatever it is, it isn’t good.

“You know, Xi’an’s still broken up about you leaving. Convinced herself that you and the pilot organised it, that you’re holed up somewhere together. But we both know that’s not true.”

Din says nothing. He doesn’t need to, Ran’s tone leaves nothing to be discussed. Whether he knows for sure that you went straight to the rebels or not, he has his suspicions. Xi’an can think whatever she likes, he’s just grateful he doesn’t have to deal with her trailing after him like a lost puppy anymore. 

“They said you have a job for me.” 

Ran gestures out for him to follow, leading him to a desk he knows all too well. Your workstation was always cluttered, always a tangled heap of wires and unidentifiable spare parts. Organised chaos, you said, it was about the piles. Except it’s been completely cleared out. There’s shelves underneath that he didn’t even know existed, and a big smiley face drawn carefully on the worktop. Din turns his head towards Ran, a wordless question.

“We had a visit from our old friend, a favour done out of the kindness of my heart. So imagine my surprise when we all woke up to find their room empty, and my hangar pillaged.” Ran’s laying it on thick, thicker than usual. Pillaged is a strong word, it’s clear you only touched your own bench, those parts belong to you as far as Din’s concerned. But it’s not his concern that’s the problem. 

“So, what’s the job?” He doesn’t feel like playing games anymore. He doesn’t see what any of this has to do with him anyway.

“I’m putting a bounty on that little thief, it can be yours or it can go to the Guild. Or,” Ran hesitates, watching the way Din’s shoulders tense, “You can help me out. Help me with this one thing and I’ll drop it.”

Din doesn’t even ask what he needs to do, he only nods and finds himself trying his best to tolerate Qin’s chatter from the Crest’s passenger seat while he flies. 

It should worry him, that he didn’t even consider his own safety. But something about it feels right, he’s sure he’d put anything on the line if it meant you were safe.

It’s almost boring, standing guard at the door as Qin ransacks some official’s office on a planet he’s already forgotten the name of. Ran mentioned something about a trade agreement, although given the largely illegal nature of his dealings it doesn’t take a genius to work out exactly why something like that would have been refused by any law abiding citizen. Although law in the Outer Rim is generally subjective to everyone’s personal code. 

“One more office and we’re done.” Qin assures him as he exits the upturned office, pressing a drive into Din’s gloved palm. He pockets it without question, experience has taught him that wasting time asking will only get them in trouble. 

Trouble seems to find them anyway. It always does. 

He races through the beige hallways, following the blinking dot on the display of his vambrace with Qin hot on his heels. The security guards aren’t fast, they aren’t even armed, there’s no point in shooting when the two of them so clearly have the upper hand. Until a burly Trandoshan leaps out of a doorway and tackles Qin to the ground. But Din doesn’t look back, he just presses forward to the Crest. 

Din hightails it out of there, jumping to lightspeed still in atmosphere. Just in case. And breathes his first sigh of relief since he stepped onto the station. He’s not sure what’s on the drive, honestly he doesn’t want to know, and he just hopes it’s important enough to Ran that he might overlook the tiny detail of leaving Qin to the guards. 

Ran only seems mildly annoyed that Din comes back alone, more interested in the drive dropped into his waiting hand, and agrees to forget about setting a bounty. So long as you don’t turn up on his doorstep, lie, and steal from him again. Din promises to pass on the message.

You’re on Tatooine, arguing with a scrapper in Mos Espa over the price of a rusted laser cannon, when he finds you. The scrapper quiets when he appears over your shoulder, and nods reluctantly at your suggested fifty percent of the asking price. It’s hot and you’re tired, you don’t have the patience to pretend to be surprised when you turn to see him standing behind you. 

“Help me with this?” You ask. Din watches a bead of sweat drip down your temple, tries not to wish it was his tongue instead, and nods wordlessly.

Between the two of you, you manage to haul the cannon to your docking bay and roll it up the loading ramp. Only once it’s secure in the hold do you take a moment to survey his armour, the way you did last time.

There’s no obvious new scratches, although the dust on this rock of a planet will dirty anything in a matter of seconds, but you find yourself relieved by the familiarity of his dark red armour. Nothing has been replaced since the last time you saw him, it seems. You’ve come a long way since then.

“You’re stealing from our old boss now?” Din’s voice breaks your careful study of his armour, and your brow furrows. You thought he might understand, out of everyone in the galaxy, but you don’t even know how he found out.

“We’re in a war.” 

“You’re in a war.”

Your eyes snap up to his visor, and he has to physically plant himself so he isn’t rocked back by the intensity of your stare. You find his eyes every time, you always have. But yours have never held such a cold fury for him than they do now. It’s kind of terrifying, it’s kind of beautiful. 

“This is not about me. This is so much bigger than just me. You may have grown up underground learning how to kill people with your thumbs but I grew up under imperial rule. I grew up building parts for star destroyers and running messages for rebels. All I know is this fucking war.” You’re rambling but you don’t care. He has to know, he has to understand that this is what you do now. The last couple of years have been the best of your life, you’ve found a purpose. Something that makes you want to get out of bed in the mornings and reluctant to go back to it at night, you’ve thrown yourself into the brewing fight and it feels like you were born for it. The names of all the friends you’ve lost to the Empire sit heavy on your tongue for every TIE you take down, every supply you steal, every bit of intel you scrape together. It’s for them, it’s for everyone who came before, it’s for everyone who will come after. 

Din says your name softly, but the tears are falling and you can’t stop.

“I’ve been fighting my whole life so kids in the future don’t have to live the way I have. I think a few spare parts are worth that.”

You tell him your whole story, standing there awkwardly in the belly of the freighter. You tell him about the messages you ran between workers who resisted, who rebelled, who heard whispers of uprising and felt the roar of hope in their chests. You’d started young, too young really to understand the danger of what you were doing. But what about being young on Corellia was not dangerous? You tell him how the group started to grow, branching out from your factory line to the docks and the mechanics and further. The way they started to include you more as you got older, planning and whispering in darkened corners and safehouses away from the ears of the Empire. 

Not that it did anyone any good in the end. You tell him how they stormed the house one night. No warning, no whispers. Blew the door out of the wall and started shooting. So you’d started running. Nothing but the blanket from your bed, the one you’d had since you were a child, around your shoulders and a younger girl’s hand in yours. You’d almost gotten her to the loading docks. To safety. Almost. You can still taste the blood in your mouth when the blaster bolt split her head open, but you’d left her where she fell and kept running. You tell him how you dove into the first open cargo bay you saw and hid. For days. How you’d cried when you felt it finally lift from the bay. How it had been Ran’s ship, one of his first trades. You hadn’t had the courage to leave the station until somebody had shown you it was possible.

Din doesn’t interrupt once. He only watches. Watches as the tears stop streaming, as you pull yourself back together again. He’s sure you didn’t want him, anyone, to see you so vulnerable. You’ve always had that mask of quick jokes and bright smiles, it’s only now that he realises it's a mask, and it’s oddly fascinating to watch you piece it together. You wipe at your cheeks with the sleeve of your jacket until there’s no trace of your tears and take a deep breath. In the blink of an eye, it’s as though you never cried at all. 

Even so, the bags under your eyes don’t lie. He’s sure he’s got a pair to match.

“When’s the last time you slept?” He asks quietly, and if you didn’t know better you’d swear he was concerned about you. But you do know better. 

You shoot a glance over to the freighter’s sorry excuse of a bunk. It’s even worse than the last one he took you in, although you’re not sure he’s suggesting a good fuck will get you off to sleep. It’s very pointedly not been touched, starched sheets still stretched military-tight over the mattress. Not that it’s much of a mattress. 

“Let’s find a room somewhere. I think a real bed might do us both some good.” He makes it sound like an offer, but you know it’s non-negotiable. And deep down, you really could use a good hour or two before you have to fly back to base. The pilot’s seat is definitely more comfortable than the bunk, just about. You dip into the cockpit at the last second to snag your old blanket. For comfort’s sake.

There’s not a lot in the room that an older Twi’lek woman hands you the keycard to. Only a desk with a chair, an attached refresher, and a small bed. But it’s big enough for the two of you. The suns start to dip below the horizon, and Din finally reaches out to touch you. Just barely, just a light stroke of his fingers along your shoulder. But it’s enough to convince you to take a shower, you’re sandy and sweaty and tired and it’ll take more energy to argue than it would to just take the shower. 

You’re in there for longer than you intended, zoning out as your eyes lose focus of the little square tiles on the wall, and it’s dark outside by the time you’re dried and dressed in the spare clothes you keep in your go-bag. Din’s pulled blinds shut, locked the door, and piled his armour carefully on the desk. The ancient wood creaks under the weight of the metal. The man himself is lying spreadeagled on the bed, in only his underclothes and his helmet, the dull light from the single bulb in the refresher reflects off of his visor when he turns to look at you. It might make you laugh if you weren’t so tired.

“Better?”

You nod. Of course you feel better, anyone would after scrubbing what felt like an inch thick layer of sweat and sand off of their skin. You smell of the pleasantly neutral soap from the dispenser and, for the first time in days, you think you can breathe again. Although the weight of exhaustion threatens to drag your bones through the floor. 

Din pulls himself to stand with a low groan, shoulders protesting when he rolls them, and tucks the sheet back far enough that you can get in comfortably. It doesn’t escape your notice that he’s laid your blanket out beneath them, a thought that sits jagged in your throat. He approaches you slowly, carefully, as though he’s afraid you’ll bolt if he moves too fast. But you take his hand the moment he offers it and leans around you to switch the fresher’s light off, let him lead you back to the bed, and follow him down onto it. 

There’s the barest sound of metal brushing against his hair as he pulls the helmet off and  sits up for a moment to set it down on the floor. 

“Din?” Your voice is quiet, careful not to disturb the peace that’s settled in the room, but it makes him shudder all the same. He returns to you, tucks the blankets up around you both, and tugs you into him. The Armourer’s words, the ones that swirl in his head every time he thinks of you like this, are silent. Din finds he’s not even a little bit guilty.

Warm fingers trace your body, soft over your exposed skin, light as they dip under your shirt. He says nothing, only traces the scars on your back, on your sides, along your ribs. He doesn’t ask how they got there, running his touch along the raised marks you’ve collected through your life and leaving goosebumps in his wake. For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel quite so empty. 

You shift further into the warmth underneath you, a vain attempt to keep a hold of the last few dregs of sleep. But you feel rested, at least. That’s not something particularly familiar, and you bask in the feeling. A hum rumbles beneath you. Oh, that’s where you are. You’re not embarrassed, or shocked, like you thought you might be if this ever happened. If you ever thought it possible he wouldn’t leave you to wake up alone. But Din is solid under your head, under your arm, the soft fabric of his shirt clutched in your fist. He’s speaking softly, coaxing you from dreams. It’s still dark as anything when you finally open your eyes, so it can’t have been more than a few hours you spent snoozing. 

It’s his story, you realise when your brain finally kicks into gear. He’s whispering about the memories he has from before, his parents. You’d always assumed he was born and raised Mandalorian, how he carries his Way so heavily on his shoulders, but the shake in his ribs as he recounts them tells you all you need to know. Your fist tightens in his shirt when you shuffle a little closer, press your face into his shoulder, a little more over the top of him. A human blanket. 

Din likes it, the weight of you on him, your body helps him to keep focus. He never thought he’d tell anyone what happened to him. A dirty secret to be kept hidden away. But something about you pulls it out of him, something about the peace he’s created here with you in this little room makes the truth ease its way out of his throat. You’re not the only one who felt the wrath of the Empire as a child, you’re not the only one who wants it gone, he needs you to know that.

It breaks something inside you, to hear him so clearly struggle through the details of the attack and his rescue, and you can’t help but push yourself up further. Unwrap your hand from his shirt to find his cheek, press your lips to his softly, slowly. He’s suffered enough. You need him to know that you’re here, you have him. You’ll always have him. You let him lose himself in your body, and maybe your heart. He’s already made a home there anyways.

It’s careful, tentative, more so than the other times. The way you hold each other as though you’re made of glass. There’s no rush, no pressure of a goodbye, no adrenaline of a hunt. You have time. And, god, does it show. The way Din touches you is reverent, like you’re holy. You put everything you are, everything you have, behind every kiss, every touch, every whisper. It belongs to him, you’re happy to give yourself over. Just as he belongs to you, you’re sure of it. The fear that he touches someone else in the way he does you is soothed by the roughness of his voice in your ear, the way his teeth scrape against your throat, the way you hear the words without them needing to be said. Because he does, as you do.

You’re the first one to leave this time, blindly finding your clothes in the dark. You leave him a neutral comm, one you already have the pin saved for. He’ll know what it is. It connects to your personal pin without leaving a trace, and you can buzz him at any point. So long as he keeps it, you think he will. You take a moment to listen to him breathing, steadily in the dark, and raise your blanket to your nose. Din. 

There won’t be a day goes by where you don’t think of him, of that you’re certain.

TAGLIST (lmk if u want on or off the list):

@brothersdrxke​ @remmysbounty​ @aq-vetina​ @1800-fight-me​ @mandos-co​ @kesskirata​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @firstofficerwiggles​ @keeper0fthestars​

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #359

“i’m only a crack in this castle of glass  /  hardly anything there for you to see”

Do you look better with your hair down or up? It's too short to go up. Has you mom ever directly told you that she favoured your other sibling(s) over you? Yeesh, no. Have you ever read The Outsiders? Seen the movie? Read the book, seen the movie. Adore both. What’s your favourite drink from Jamba Juice? I don't think we have those here. Can you stand eating the crusts of a slice of sandwich bread? I don't mind the crust at all. Do you do your homework at home or in class? Prior to college, I did my work right after getting home to get it out of the way. In college, I did it in-between classes or when waiting for Mom to finish class. Do you feel uncomfortable sharing drinks with other people? Yes, I never do it. Do you get jealous if your boyfriend hugs another girl? I'm single, but hypothetically, I wouldn't... It's just a hug. At least for me, it's just a friendly gesture. Is there something that happened in your past you hate talking about? A few things, yes. Is it hard for you to be “just friends” with the opposite sex? Nah. If you had to choose, what color is your favorite? Baby pink. How many times have you dated the person you’re with now? I’m single. Has anyone suspected you of being a different sexuality? Yes. Do you like chocolate or vanilla cake more? Chocolate. Does it bother you to have blood drawn or not so much? Nah. What color is your toothbrush? It's a white electric one. Do you normally fall asleep fast or slow? Ridiculously slow. Have you ever had a severe allergic reaction? No. What do you want to be for Halloween this year? I'd love to dress up as like a Ms. Oogie Boogie and take some cool pictures, but I highly doubt it'll actually happen. What color are your glasses, if applicable? Black. Do you still look in the toy aisle, or do you pass it by? I walk past it. What are your summer fashion essentials? I don't have fashion essentials for any season. Do you have your own website? For my photography, yeah. Do you think you would be a good salesperson? Ha, no. I worked in retail before and I fucking sucked. Do you like candy corn? NO. Just colored wax, ugh. Do you like to wear skirts? I don't wear anything that shows my legs. Were you happy as a kid? Yeah. That, talkative, and hyper. Favorite store to browse but not really buy anything? Haha, I LOVE going on MorphMarket now and again to browse the ball pythons especially, but boy if I had the cash and space would I buy like fifty of them at once. I don't really know about a store I like browsing but not buying from. Skittles or Sour Patch Kids? Both are great, but I guess Sour Patch Kids. BUT, if you throw SOUR Skittles in there... then it's a war lol. If tattoos were free, how many would you have? A HELL OF A LOT. I wanna be just about totally painted. Do you wear a retainer at night? Not anymore. I had one, but I stopped using it. Are you afraid of dolls, puppets, or clowns? I'm not a doll person, particularly porcelain ones. When you’re in your room, do you keep the door locked? No. It's not even closed. Do you think your face is mostly symmetrical? Actually no, and I'm self-conscious about it. Stupidest thing you have ever said out loud? OH Christ, I'm not retrospecting on this. What’s your least favourite ice-cream flavour? That I've actually tried, strawberry. It's disgusting. What was the last good news you heard? I got approved for TMS therapy! Who was the last person to comment on your Facebook status? My friend Lyndsey. How did you meet him/her? World of Warcraft. She's actually my guild master, and she is the sweetest damn person. Have you ever learned any self-defense? If not, would you be interested in learning? I haven't, but yeah, I'd like to. When was the last time you took a nap? How long was it? Yesterday. For some reason, I actually slept a LONG time, like at least three, but probably close to four, hours. I mean I was tired, but I didn't feel THAT tired. Do you like Gushers? YAAAAAAAAAAS What would you do if you could do anything without failing? Actually get a degree for SOMETHING. What is your native language? English. Do you have a younger brother or sister? A younger sister. If so do/did they really get on your nerves? No. We were very close as kids, but we've drifted apart. Now, she absolutely doesn't get on my nerves. I'm so proud of her. Name something that happened to you that was completely unexpected. Uhhh I dunno. Do you judge people that have multiple piercings? Lol wtf? No. Do you watch the Olympics? No. What did you have for breakfast this morning? I had Kix cereal. Do you like orange juice? Yes. So long as it doesn't have pulp in it. Do you think it’s cruel to keep an animal in a cage while you’re away? It depends on the size of the cage as well as how long you're away. Do you have a pet gecko? No, but I'd love a fat-tailed gecko. Are you scared of reptiles? Not at all, I adore them. Is your car messy? I don't have my own car. Mom's kinda is, though. It needs a wash badly, but because of her bumper literally being zip-tied on, she doesn't trust going into a car wash. And neither of us are about to do it manually, lol. Have you ever seen the show 16 and Pregnant? No, fuck that show. Do you buy expensive clothes? No. Does death scare you? Not really. What are your current goals? Conquer my social anxiety, get a job, lose weight, do something to strengthen my legs... Those are the four biggies. Do you clap or cheer when at a concert? I did both at the one I've been to. Do you drink coffee? What brand? No. Do you use a comb or brush? A comb. When you were younger, did you ever do that exclamation point that looked like an upside down triangle and had a really big dot? No. I loved the cutesy girl handwriting though, haha. I just could never do it. You’re locked in a room with the person you last dated, any problems? Well yeah, we're locked in a room lmao. What kind of relationship do you have with the last person you kissed? It's perfectly fine, we're best friends. Have you ever gotten burnt by a cigarette? No. Do you get mad when people smoke around you? Yes. Honestly, have you ever eaten raw cookie dough? Yeah, more than once. When was the last time you were on a city bus? Never. Do you have a garden? Does it have flowers, vegetables, or both? No. Where do you want to raise your kids? Who said I even want kids? Have you ever been to Cracker Barrel? Yessssss, good shit. Have you ever seen a ghost? I think I have. Have you ever burned an ant with a magnifying glass? No. Have you ever been to craigslist.com? Yes. Have you ever used Nair? Yes, on my legs. It works, I just have stupidly hairy legs that need so much to get it all. How many tabs do you have open and what are they? Two YouTube tabs and then Tumblr. What browser do you prefer to use? Chrome. What room are you in right now? My bedroom. Are you excited for anything this month? 1.) I get my tattoo on the 19th, and 2.) I start TMS next Wednesday. What language course did you take in school, if any? I barely survived one semester of Latin, then I did all four available German courses. What language would you most like to learn? I'd love to improve my German. What would you like to get a degree in? Photography. What book are you reading, what genre is it and do you like it so far? Wings of Fire: The Brightest Night. It's young adult fantasy, I think. Did you ever sometimes flip through your text books even when you didn’t need to? Yeah, mainly to just look at pictures because I was that bored in class, haha. What types of magazines do you read? None. Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game? Play a video game. What’s your current relationship like with the person you lost your virginity to and do you wish it was different? We don't have any relationship anymore. I don't regret losing it to him, if that's what you're asking. If you mean our relationship stance, it'd be nice to still be in touch with him, but I know it wouldn't be healthy for me. Have you ever felt responsible for someone’s death? Pets, yes. No humans. What was the last book you recommended to someone? Idk. What’s the most difficult thing you and your current or last significant other have gone through? Distance was very hard. What’s your best memory with your ex? I'm going to assume this refers to "the ex." In which case, we were "play arguing," and I came storming into the kitchen after him to make a point, and I slid mid-sentence, and he caught me. We just held each other laughing our asses off. It's the simple things, man. Who was the last person that asked to hang out with you and what’s the story of how you met that person? Summer. My little sister and her were in pre-k together and became friends, but I gradually became closer to her than Nicole did when we were teens. Has anyone ever asked you out and you turned them down? Yes. Is there something you generally always ask for help with? Yeah. Like recently I've been having apples and peanut butter a lot, and I ask my mom to cut the apple because I'm terrified of knives. Do you feel comfortable telling people how much you weigh? NOPE. Have you looked at any old photos of yourself lately? No. In a relationship, have you ever been on and off with your partner? No. Do you consider cooking to be an art? Yes. Are you a fast or slow reader? I'd say I read at a moderate pace. Does it take a lot to gross you out? It depends on what it is, but I am actually more squeamish than I used to be.

[aminiatureworld]

The Music of the Night

Ship: Geralt x Jaskier

Warnings: Someone gets stabbed

Premise:  The family goes to a music concert, courtesy of Jaskier, and Geralt gets to experience something he never has before.

Author’s Note: I was hoping to post every five days, but unfortunately with classes starting and the larger Medieval AU this fic was a long time coming. I was more liberal with Geralt and Jaskier being open about their feelings, or at least I tried to be.

Hope you enjoy this fanfic and thank you so much to the 42 people who liked my last Geraskier fanfic as well as the 6 people who reblogged it.  Know that every single one of you contribute so much to my happiness and my determination to continue writing!

Notes about pieces, historical accuracy, and other such things in end note. Ao3 link in reblog

            “Alright, are we ready to go?” Yennefer shouted down the hall. Geralt ground his teeth, staring at the array of weapons laid out in front of him. It was a very important night, one that Jaskier hadn’t shut up about for the better part of three months. A guild of musicians was in a town neighboring Yennefer’s newest stronghold, and the house’s resident bard had been adamant that this would be a perfect family outing, and that no one was getting out of it. This hadn’t entirely been surprising, and Geralt had begrudgingly agreed to the whole endeavor, not being a huge fan of enclosed crowds. When he’d realized that maybe going to a concert unarmed in the middle of what could only be described as the Continent losing its collective mind was a bad move, his intensely minute planning, something that both Yennefer and Jaskier teased him mercilessly about since he’d properly brought Ciri into the family, had spun out of control. Now there the Witcher was, staring at the various knives, daggers, swords, and other miscellaneous weapons that he’d found lying around the house, wondering which to take and which to leave. The two usual swords were among the bunch, of course, but somehow Geralt knew that Jaskier wouldn’t take kindly to them being brought, something along the lines of ruining the atmosphere. Still, he had to bring something and as the banging in the hall grew louder Geralt wondered how he’d ever easily made up his mind about arming himself before.

           “Geraltttt!” Jaskier’s voice came singing down the hall, followed almost immediately by the banging of the door. Rushing over, he planted a quick kiss on Geralt’s cheek, something which never failed to bring on a blush, and shook his head excitedly. “You look lovely in everything darling, I promise no one will be in the mood to glare.” Geralt smiled fondly, if a bit exasperatedly, at the bard, before shaking his head.

           “That’s not it. I, well, was trying to choose.” He gestured towards the table and Jaskier, turning around and surveying the paraphernalia, nodded thoughtfully.

           “Hmm… tough choice.” He brought his hand to his chin for a moment, before his eyes lit up and he picked up a dirk sheathed in black leather. “I’ll take this one!” Checking to confirm the blade was indeed steel, Jaskier smiled up at the, admittedly baffled, Geralt, who couldn’t understand the bent that Jaskier was taking.

           “Jaskier, I-”

           “Oh and of course the others will need something too!” Jaskier scurried into the hallway. “Guys!! Geralts got his weapons laid out, better get one!” There was an incoherent reply from Yennefer, and the quick footsteps of Ciri, who, running into the room, grabbed a thin knife, this one wrapped in ordinary leather with green silk woven into the hilt, an old gift from a grateful pawnshop owner if Geralt could remember right. Geralt frowned as Ciri ran back out of the room, but before he could raise a protest Yennefer had waltzed in, scanned the table, and ran off with an elegant dagger, a whirling pattern built into the blade. Geralt immediately gave a grunt of protest at that, but Yennefer simply raised an eyebrow and walked out. Jaskier, returning, walked up to the poor Witcher, who was running about three paces behind the entire ordeal, and gave him a smile. “Thank you for thinking of that! This should be a relatively calm affair, more serious you know, but hey, protection is always a must!”

           “I… those were for me.” Geralt shook his head. “I couldn’t choose which to pick.”

           “Well, we’ve whittled down the selection haven’t we?” Jaskier smiled indulgently. “Now hurry up and choose yours now, you know how much I’ve been longing for this, and nothing is going to stop me from enjoying tonight. Especially not a late indecisive witcher.” And, pressing a kiss on Geralt’s nose, and nearly falling on him in the process, Jaskier ducked out, leaving the slightly bashful Witcher to pick up a weapon, another dirk, this one wrapped in old worn leather with half rubbed off runes cut into it, and run after him.

           The venue was already quite crowded when they arrived, and the front seats full. Jaskier gave a dramatic groan at that, but Ciri, muttering a quick word of assurance, ducked off to find four seats. Geralt could barely make her out, as she slipped quickly and quietly between various patrons, but he trusted in her abilities not only to find a good spot but to be able to take care of herself. The latter part of that trust had been harder to build up, the first few weeks they were together Geralt felt as if he were walking on melting ice, worried about the various ways he might put his newfound family in trouble. It had taken a lot of lectures from Yennefer and coaxing from Jaskier for the Witcher to finally accept that Ciri wasn’t a waifish girl in need of coddling; after all, hadn’t she survived without him? Through war and death and a cult chasing after her? No, Geralt now knew that being a good adoptive father didn’t mean locking one’s daughter away, even out of paternal worry.

           As Ciri waved the band over to a set of seats in the third row, Jaskier admitting that the choice was “not bad at all”, Geralt reflected for a moment on where he was now in life. He’d never thought at the beginning of his life he’d be a witcher, and he’d never thought at the beginning of his witcher life that’d he’d be destined for anything other than a lonely life, walking the Path with the cold determination of someone who knew no other way. How odd fate had proved out to be, and how grateful Geralt was that he’d been wrong. How happy he was that his life had changed, that he had changed, for the old Geralt knew nothing about either reflection or hope, not in the way current Geralt did, and as he slipped into one of the creaky wicker chairs set up around the semi circled stage, Geralt glanced at the family around him. Yennefer was enquiring after Jaskier the type of music that was to be played, the bard replying with a garble of songwriter facts and music theory that no one but himself understood, while Ciri was scouting the people around them, trying to determine where they were from no doubt, as she’d once confessed to Geralt seeing Cintran refugees always gave her pause, even if she no longer felt the urge to walk up and say hello. It was a happy sight, despite everything that had happened, the mistakes, the goings, the years apart. It was nice to have a night such as this, and as Jaskier turned to glance at the Witcher he seemed to wink, as if to say to Geralt, see, I told you this was a good idea. Geralt lifted his eyebrow, but he couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face, and as the people hushed and the musicians came out Geralt found himself very happy he’d let that bard follow him around.

          Geralt wasn’t entirely sure what he expected out of this night. He knew that it wouldn’t be the same experience as tavern songs, that this wasn’t going to simply be a group of bards, that the singing would be minimal, and that the songs would be longer and more complicated. What he certainly wasn’t expecting was the sheer beauty that hit him. The song started with one musician playing a fiddle, a low pleasant sound, which rose up in a variety of trills. It put Geralt in the mid of early springtime, the birds just emerging from their nests, or coming up from where they’d left. It made him think of the fields right after a frost, buds beginning to dot the trees, the world coming to life again. Slowly the other musicians, of which there were about 60, began to join in with the lone player, adding to the effect of a world waking. The music chased away the rest of Geralt’s thoughts, and he found himself leaning forward, as if somehow he could envelope himself in the notes floating around the theatre.

           A glance over at Jaskier made evident that the bard was also feeling affected by the music, for the bard had clasped his hands over his mouth, though every once in a while one would float up, as if guided by the music, and Jaskier’s eyes would close. It was a side that Geralt hadn’t really seen before, for though he knew of course that Jaskier loved music, loved it in an all consuming way, he didn’t show it often, mostly joking that no one wanted to hear the intricacies of Dorian mode, or listen to him sing the praises of men and women long dead. A warm feeling filled Geralt’s chest, and he was almost choked by the sense of fondness that he felt, surrounded by what Jaskier loved best, watching him in his element. Turning back to the performers Geralt thanked every god he could think of and all the ones he couldn’t that Jaskier had brought the family, and that Geralt got to be around such a beautiful being and share in such a beautiful experience.

           The music continued, each song more beautiful than the last. After what Geralt could only call the springtime piece came what seemed like four, but Jaskier later told him was only one split up into different “movements”. Their, or rather its, tone was dark, and even when the song seemed faster Geralt only felt agitated, rather than happy. Deciding he didn’t like that as much as the first song, though Ciri rather seemed excited by the frantic energy of it, Geralt was glad when four guild members stepped out and began playing a calmer song, this one another split in four, why did songwriters do such a thing? The second part of the four songs was quiet and soft, almost like a lullaby, and when the third part started again at a bright tone Yennefer, who’d dozed off, jerked up in her seat, to the great amusement of both Ciri and Jaskier, who giggled so incessantly that someone behind them told them in no uncertain terms to either shut up or go home. After that was a song much more based in the flutes and the reeded instruments, which consequently sounded much more fluid and loose, bringing to mind a great city with lazy morals and interesting sights. Geralt was enjoying himself immensely, a happiness only added to by Jaskier’s occasional squeals of glee and raucous clapping at the end of each song, as well as a whisper in Geralt’s ear whenever the Witcher seemed to get lost.

           The night was fading away and as the musicians announced that this was to be their last piece the crowd moaned, and shouts of encore echoed through the hall. The musicians stood up and bowed, causing many in the audience to jump to their feet in applause, and some even to begin to walk out, much to Jaskier’s annoyance. “They’re going to miss the best of it.” He scoffed, sitting back down as the stage emptied. Emptied that is except for one woman. She paused, waiting for the noise to calm down, before placing her fiddle on her shoulder. “This is it.” Jaskier whispered, and then she began. Immediately Geralt was blown away. Although there was only of her, multiple notes were certainly coming out of the instrument, at a breakneck pace, which had Geralt in mind of a horse, frantic and wild. The song developed, as a sweet melody came out of the endless pounding of hooves, only to be brought down by another melody, this one thick with panic and fear. The momentum kept going, pitches rising, melodies crashing into each other. It felt more like a torrent than a song, so swept away Geralt felt, giving him an odd sense of dread. Suddenly everything smashed into one another, and the song dropped, giving one the lingering feeling of discomfort. Turning to Jaskier, Geralt looked at the bard with raised eyebrows, not entirely sure how to convey what he’d felt. Jaskier glanced back at him with what seemed like satisfaction. “Based off a poem,” he explained, “of a man trying to save his son, only to be chased by a specter, one who promises the boy happiness and luxury if he goes with him, only to take his soul and kill the boy.” He sighed, seeming much happier than Geralt felt, for a pit had begun to form in the Witcher’s stomach. “Imagine your writing being immortalized in such a way… one day that’ll be my piece Geralt, just you wait. I’ll be the one striking fear into your heart.”

           “I hope not.” Geralt responded, a bit brusque for he couldn’t get the image out of his mind. “It sounds like a terrible poem.”

           “Tragedy is immortalized better than glory. I’m sure you understand that. Besides, it’s just a story, and one that can bring all people together. You thought her playing was beautiful didn’t you?” He gestured towards the woman, who was receiving heaps of deafening applause. Geralt nodded slowly. He couldn’t deny the talent of both the musician and the songwriter. Still, the music sat uncomfortably over him, and as the family made ready to leave, he couldn’t help but let everyone pass in front of him, thinking of how even if the scenario in the poem itself wasn’t true, the general idea certainly was real enough.

           Outside the air seemed to clear a bit, and the group fell into happy chatter. Ciri was still on about how bombastic that second song had been; “I can’t believe how loud they got sometimes! It was like the roof was going to fall!” Yennefer said nothing, rubbing her eyes slightly, but the look on her face was one of contentment. And, of course, Jaskier seemed ready to burst, talking this way and that about all sorts of things. “Did you see the way the fiddle bows were all together? And the vibrato on that first flautist, I couldn’t believe it! Shame that vibrato isn’t exactly a lute thing. And I can’t believe how much work the composer must’ve put into those pieces! I mean, I can barely read two clefs, imagine being able to read four! Maybe I should consider that for the next big project…” His voice carried off, and Geralt smiled indulgently, knowing that for the next few months there’d probably be horrendous amount of noise as this bard tried to put all he’d seen to good use in his own music. Inhaling the cool, fresh air, Geralt began to feel the shroud of that last song shake off, reminding him of how beautiful he’d thought the first song was.

           The reverie didn’t last forever though, for as the group made their way out of the stables – Yennefer had insisted on no stays at the inns, for who would spend that much money when there was a perfectly fine home only five miles away – and into the woods the atmosphere seemed much more oppressive. When two men stepped out of the shadows Geralt tensed, wishing he’d brought his swords after all. “What brings you to stop in these dense woods?” Jaskier called out, swinging out of the saddle, a move which caused Geralt’s throat to constrict, and made him simultaneously want to protect and strangle the bard. The men said nothing, and Jaskier shook his head, shrugging his shoulders and holding his hands out to the tall, ragged figures. “Well if you say nothing I cannot help you, and will assume that you’re playing a rather insipid game of hide-and-seek. Now if you don’t mind it’s late, and I’d rather spend a cold night like this in bed than staring a statues.” Going to turn Jaskier stopped in his tracks when one of the men piped up.

           “Those are some nice horses. Nice clothes too.”

           “Oh you think so?” Jaskier turned around. “I’ll admit I do agree my fashion is impeccable, I’m glad you can see that. But unfortunately I think your judgement on horses is rather lacking. I mean of course Lyra is the loveliest girl, but honestly could you say Roach is anything close to nice?” He gestured towards Geralt, who gripped the reins. The men on the road had the sense to look slightly uneasy at the realization that a witcher was amidst the party, but “evidently they had a scarcity of sense, common or otherwise” Jaskier would later say, for they both looked back upon the bard, and the bulkier of the two drew a ragged sword out of its sheath.

           “We’ll be taking Lyra and Roach now. And the horses of those lovely ladies.” The second began walking towards Yennefer and Ciri, the former of who raised her eyebrows, and the latter of who looked extremely unimpressed.

           “Do what you want.” Jaskier threw his hands up, as if in surrender. “I must warn you however that one such lovely lady is unused to having her horse stolen out from underneath her, and I daresay mages aren’t known for their forbearance.” The two men halted for a second, and the one closer to Jaskier turned towards the bard. Geralt by now had begun to slide off Roach, looking backwards to make sure there were only two such men, and taking care to be as silent as possible. Jaskier looked as unruffled as ever, and even when the bulky man took a step towards the bard, he stayed in his position, leaning slightly against Lyra, arms crossed at his chest.

           “It’s no good lying to us.” The bandit, for that was most surely what these two people were, had a voice that could only be accurately described as gravely. He pointed his sword towards the bard. “I’ll have to teach you a lesson.”

           “How menacing of you.” Jaskier deadpanned, and as the man lunged and Geralt made for his weapon it seemed for a moment as if Jaskier was truly about to get struck.

           The surprise on the other man’s face was one of complete terror, as his compatriot dropped like a stone. Jaskier pulled his dirk, now drenched to the hilt in blood, out of the man’s ribcage, turning to Geralt, who was likewise frozen. The last bandit distracted Yennefer made quick work snapping her fingers, and in place of the man soon stood a very confused rabbit. Whirling off her own horse Ciri stepped towards the animal, who made a weird sort of strangled sound before bolting into the forest. Walking over to Geralt, Jaskier handed the Witcher the dirk. “Could you hold this for me? My handkerchief is in my pocket, and this doublet is newly made.” Careful to avoid using his right hand, Jaskier pulled out the square of linen, and wiped his hands and the dirk, before sliding the blade back into its sheath. “Thank you darling!” Jaskier planted a kiss on Geralt’s hand, causing the inevitable blush. The poor Witcher still felt like he’d somehow missed something, and as he looked around at the rest of his family, already back on their horses and starting to move on, the Witcher wondered how he’d become the pacifist in the family.

           The rest of the ride was quite a jumpy one for the Witcher, who kept expecting various monsters, highwaymen, and other of the sort to come jumping out of the trees at any moment. By the time Yennefer’s place was in sight, Geralt felt an immense sense of relief, and as the group all untacked their horses, Ciri, determined to be the fastest of the group, already combing Melusine, Geralt stayed silent, ears trained on the soft sounds of the night outside. The cleaning done and the hay placed in the stables, the family filed back into the house, Geralt at the rear, locking the bolt to both the stables and the house firmly behind him. “Did you enjoy yourself?” Jaskier immediately asked.

           “A bit too long for my taste, but you couldn’t deny the talent.” Yennefer yawned. “Thank you for having us attend Jaskier.”

           “Of course my dear Yennefer.” Jaskier dipped into a short bow. Yennefer snorted and walked up the stairs, the bath was definitely going to be hogged for the next hour or so.

           “I liked all of it!” Ciri declared, plopping down on the rug in front of the fireplace in the main hall. “It reminded me of the kinds of concerts my grandmother liked to see. I was glad to go to such a thing again.” She smiled softly, and Geralt and Jaskier both walked over to the girl, enveloping her in a group hug. Ciri hummed happily. “Thank you both.” And giving each of the two a quick hug she too went up the stairs, closing the room to her door with a bang, as was custom.

           “And you?” Jaskier looked over to Geralt. “Don’t you dare say anything about a filling-less pie this time. I know you lied through your teeth then, and I’ll know you’ll be lying now.” Geralt smiled, old memories swirling through his mind, how long ago that seemed now.

           “I liked it. It was…” he paused, trying to find the right words, “different. All the songs were different, but they all fit together. And I felt, carried away.” He lay back on the carpet and sighed. “I felt almost as if there was a spell in the air.”

           Jaskier nodded, flopping down besides Geralt. “That’s how I feel too about it. You hear this piece sometimes, and, I can’t even describe it but your entire soul is lifted up, and you just start to drown in it, but you don’t even mind, you want to be further enveloped, further dragged in. That’s what true music can do. Cast a spell without magic.” Geralt turned to look at Jaskier, who himself was staring into the fireplace. “One day I’ll do something like that.” He continued, his eyes warm and full of determination. “I’ll create something like that.”

           “I think you already have.” Geralt said, and Jaskier turned to smile at the Witcher.

           “Truly?”

           “Yes. I think, well, I’ve seen how people react to your music. Even those in the shittiest taverns in the shittiest towns. They seem, almost younger, as if their cares have lifted.” Jaskier’s smiled widened, and he pressed a kiss to Geralt’s jaw.

           “Thank you my dea, you have no idea how much that means to me.” Standing up, Jaskier reached out his hand and helped pull Geralt up. “Now be a darling and help wash this dirk, I know that you have your fancy way of cleaning these blades of yours. Then come to bed, it’s late, and I’ll chase away the spirits of the forest.” He laughed at Geralt’s expression. “What? You think I didn’t notice? That last piece seemed to send you out of your skin! And even before that idiotic attempted attack you look ready to throw yourself in front of everything.”

           “Cruel of you to notice.” Geralt replied, and Jaskier laughed.

           “Well then I must be cruel indeed, for I notice everything about you.” He kissed Geralt softly then, and the Witcher felt the familiar feeling of love and contentment wash over him, something he never thought he’d be able to feel in his younger years.

           “There’s nothing cruel about you. Even if you’re wicked with a knife.” And, returning the kiss, Geralt went quickly to take the dirk and wash it off, the music of the evening still in his head and the love for his current life in his heart.

End Notes: For all the music nerds out there, I know that these would all be considered songs rather than pieces, one of these are based off a full symphony, and another based off a string quartet, but seeing as I don't think Geralt would use such terminology, indeed most of said terminology didn't exist in the 13th/14th century, which is the time period I would put this series into the real world, I chose to refer to pieces as songs, composers as songwriters, and make vague mentions of most instruments.

String instruments such as violins, violas, and cello originate from the 16th century, most likely around the 1530s. I took creative liberties again, after all this is a fantasy series.The pieces that are vaguely referenced are as follows: The Lark Ascending by Ralph Vaughan Williams, Dvorak Symphony No. 9 "from the New World", Dvorak String Quartet 12 "American", Rhapsody in Blue by George Gershwin, and Erlkonig originally by Schubert for piano and voice, adapted for solo violin by Heinrich William Ernst and based off a poem by Goethe. The last one is my personal favorite of the lineup and I would highly recommend checking out both the piano and voice lieder and the violin solo (Hilary Hahn's my favorite).

Hope any of you found this enlightening and once again thank you for reading.