#renn might write

[home-of-renn]

AU where Danny never tells Sam and Tucker about the portal accident but they eventually put together the pieces after Danny starts acting hella weird. Especially around his parents.

They eventually figure it out but can't seem to decide whether their friend is actually dead or if there's something else going on. They inadvertently become ghost experts while playing detective, while also simultaneously trying their best to help Danny from the shadows without him finding out that they found out.

Bonus points if they have to fend off Jazz with a stick cause she knows something's up and she knows that Sam and Tucker know but Sam and Tucker keep covering their tracks and doing their best to throw her off the scent.

Bonus, bonus points if Jazz knows that there's something very messed up going on and desperately wants to know what happened to her brother but Sam and Tucker think she's on her parent's side and are convinced that she'll just report back to them if she ever finds out.

Bonus, bonus, bonus points! if Jazz just has this deep, gut-wrenching feeling that she can't tell her parents about her suspicions and that there's something increasingly disturbing about both her parents and Danny's behaviour as well as how the three of them interact after the portal got turned on. She does her best to keep her parent's attention off of Danny, which kinda helps but also inadvertently gets in the way of Sam and Tucker's helping.

Bonus, bonus, bonus, bonus points!!!!! if Maddie and Jack have acquired some very mild ecto contamination from being in such close proximity with the portal on a daily basis and their continued exposure is making them slowly exhibit Obsession-like behaviours about their work and research, which consequentially results in their attitudes/behaviours becoming increasingly more disturbing and concerning from an outside perspective.

[midnightwind]

I'm making the almost kiss messier, for me (okay technically this is a few days after, but close enough) if you don't like the idea of Spite being into the Rookanis relationship, maybe don't read this lol

Summary: Spite tries to help. Things might be worse now. (just kissing and little touches, very pg, lot of yearning tho)

Word Count: 1705

She stood numbly before the pantry door, her heart in her throat. An air of guilt hung heavy around her shoulders. She had tried to give him space, busying herself by helping Taash and Bellara outside the Lighthouse. Things had felt so fragile and she was almost petrified that she had egged him into doing something he didn't want. But she wanted to visit Treviso and it felt wrong to go without at least inviting him. So she tentatively raised her hand and knocked gingerly on the door.

“Lucanis?”

There was a quiet shuffle from inside, but it was brief. She cracked the door slightly, unsure. If he was properly resting, she didn't want to ruin that. He was perched on the cot, slumped back against the wall. A cup was cradled in his lap, fingers slack. Had he fallen asleep halfway through a cup of coffee? She couldn't help the fond smile that tugged at her lips. He'd make a mess if he startled awake. She slipped silently inside, the door closing quietly behind her. With soft steps, she padded to his side and paused.

She had reasoned the intrusion with the idea of moving the cup then seeing herself out, but now that she was close she seemed to freeze. His shoulders rose with each breath, slow and peaceful. The heavy bags under his eyes were more obvious from this close and even though he was finally, finally sleeping, the exhaustion hung heavily from his features. She wanted to ghost feather touches along his jaw, card her fingers through his hair, press gentle kisses to his skin, anything to coax the stress from him. Her hand started to reach for his cheek, unbidden, before she caught herself. Grinding her teeth in frustration at the desire, she turned the motion to the cup. Her fingers had barely brushed the dish when his hand suddenly wrapped tightly around her wrist. He moved so quickly she almost screamed, her instinct to jump backwards halted only by his iron grip.

“Rook.” Her moniker curled from his mouth with Spite's low voice.

Her heart skipped a beat, wincing as the demon pulled her closer. “Hello Spite.” She smiled nervously. “Your grip hurts a little, could you… be gentler, maybe?”

Their eyes narrowed, mulling over the suggestion just long enough for her to worry he'd leave bruises on her skin. And then the pressure lightened, still firm, but measured now. “Rook is. Trespassing.”

“I…” Her mind raced to find an excuse before she sighed. “Yup. Sure am.”

A wide, toothy grin spread across their lips. “Good. We can talk.” And then he was scowling, an annoyed growl rumbling free. “Lucanis has been. Hiding. Avoiding. Won’t explain anything.”

She could feel heat rushing to her cheeks. “O-oh, I don't know if I…”

“Rook will explain.” 

It didn't sound like a request, but neither did it feel like a demand. It was more just… an expectation. An understanding that she was simply someone who would answer his questions. It left her a little dumbstruck. Explaining to the demon the intricacies of messy mortal relationships didn't thrill her, but it would be a bigger fight to try and escape. And maybe she'd get some answers herself.

“I can try.” She offered slowly. “Emotions are complicated.”

“Rook will know.” His words had more bite to them this time, grip squeezing. “You will. Stay close. Need to show.”

A thrill of alarm shot through her, heart hammering against her ribs. It felt like a bad idea. “Alright, but… let me find something to sit on. Being hunched like this is uncomfortable.” When he didn't move she offered up a wane smile. “I won't run. I promise.”

He let out a displeased hum, but let her go. She did snatch the cup as she stepped back, placing it on the little side table before she turned to assess the pantry. With only a little sigh, she dragged a crate to the cot and sat down primly. Spite closed the distance in an instant, face close and eyes bright. Nerves had set her hands to trembling, unease curling in her stomach, but she kept her face placid. 

“Why does Lucanis. Refuse himself?” He asked suddenly, voice low. When she only offered him baffled blinks he almost snarled, bringing their hand to caress her cheek. “He thinks. Of touching Rook. Like this.” Their thumb traced the line of her jaw, a little rougher than she would have expected, but it set her heart fluttering all the same. “Always wants to touch. So many different ways.” The wandering motion dragged their palm across her cheek, leaving a trail of warmth before their fingers tangled in her hair, holding her in place. “Wants to be close. Thinks of it. Constantly. So why does he not?”

She could feel the flush creeping up to her cheeks. “Only Lucanis can really answer that. I'll only have guesses.”

That did earn her a frustrated growl. Her heart was back in her throat at the noise and Spite was narrowing their eyes again. A dangerous grin slowly crawled across their face. Spite brought their free hand up to tug her hair free from the pins that held it in place. She didn't dare move as it cascaded to her shoulders, barely daring to breathe. He dragged their fingers through her hair, trapping a lock and pulling it to their lips.

“Like fresh blood. Fire dancing in the hearth. Warmth in the bones.” He purred. 

A strangled noise was all she could offer. Both hands cupped her face, trapping her gaze with his purple blaze. They were so, so close again. Her breath hitched.

“Storms at sea. Sun through glass. Sharp edge of knives.”

He bent their face to the crook of her neck, beard ghosting along her skin. She shivered. Their breath was warm and it felt like the ground disappeared from under her feet. The world reduced to the space between them, a sliver of distance barely maintained.

“Red berries and jasmine. Dizzyingly sweet. Smells of desire.”

That sent an electric spark through her veins, her pulse jumping. She shouldn't be hearing this. The urge to run screamed through her, but Spite had placed a hand on the side of her throat. Their fingers were tangled again in her hair, their wrist pressing down on her shoulder, and that single weight felt crushing. She couldn't move. Their free hand traced the pointed edge of her ear.

“Lucanis wants. So does Rook. Can smell it. Hear it. Feel it.” He brought their face back to hers, head tilted, lips hovering over hers. “Yet you both. Refuse. Why?”

She swallowed thickly, her voice hoarse and wavering. “Fear.”

That seemed to give him pause, though he didn't retreat an inch. “Of what?”

“Expectations.” The words fell unbidden, rasping whispers. “Disappointment. Pain. Misunderstanding. There's… so much that surrounds feelings like this.”

Their brow furrowed as he digested the idea. The moment felt like it stretched on forever under their caging grasp. And then she watched as he dismissed the thought. “Needless. Solution is simple.”

The distance disappeared before the alarm could settle in her bones. Spite's kiss was a hungry need, clumsy but forceful. He moved their other hand from her ear to her cheek, trapping her completely. It would have made her laugh if she had been able to form a thought. Part of her was screaming to run, of course, but the other part simply felt relief. A need finally answered, content to exist in the bruising kiss for eternity. She clawed at their chest, grabbing a fistful of their shirt, but wasn't able to bring herself to push them away or pull them closer. The sharp bite of teeth ripped a gasp from her, more surprise than anything, and Spite finally relented. When he leaned back, he had a wolfish grin as he licked blood from their lips.

“Simple.” He purred.

And then his presence vanished like smoke in the wind and she was left being held by a Lucanis who was struggling to take it all in. His eyes staggered over her loose hair, the deep flush to her skin, and her wide eyes. Her breaths were too fast, shoulders shivering. He could taste iron on his tongue and something else, something new. They stared at each other, both petrified, before the curse finally slipped from his lips, quiet and wondering.

“Mierda.”

It seemed to startle them both, his hands leaping away from her as if he had been burned. She stumbled backwards off the crate, pushing her bangs out of her eyes just to have something to do with her hands. Her gaze was focusing anywhere but on him, unwilling to see the look on his face. Would it be horror, or want? It felt like both would break her heart right now.

“Rook,” his voice was staggering, uncertain, “I-”

“Sorry,” she cut in sharply, a nervous laugh coloring her words. “I just- Spite had questions and I- Sorry.” She took a clumsy step towards the door. “I think… I need air.”

It was her turn to run, stumbling past the tables and chairs. She didn't stop until the dining room doors were closed firmly behind her. Pressing her back to them, she slid to a crouch. Head in hands, she took gulping, shivering breaths. There was a knot in her chest, a confusion of emotions. She had wanted that from Lucanis, but she liked it from Spite, too. That caused a worrying flip in her stomach. She did not want to pick that feeling apart right now. Shaking fingers dabbed at her lips, feeling the shallow cut the demon had made. The bastard left a reminder for her. It caused her to groan, pressing her palms against her eyes.

“Rook?”

Her head shot up in alarm at Bellara’s voice. The elf was paused at the bottom of the walkway to Neve’s room, a bundle of papers clutched to her chest. She took a tentative step forward as Rook shot to her feet.

“Are you okay? You look… Did Lucanis do-”

“No!” She cut in sharply, launching herself from the doors and almost running past the Jumper. “That was not Lucanis.”

[vaguely-concerned]

the Journey taash and rye are on where he has actually had a lot of the same experiences as them and dearly wants to help but also simply Cannot let enough of his own internal world out with relative strangers like that in the beginning so it's sort of stilted and distant/impersonal and not very comforting when he tries to provide support, and taash notices and stays tentative with him in return. (rye is pretty friendly and jovial on the surface and incredibly reserved and hard to get to know deep down haha.) and then the actual emotional intimacy and comfort they're starting to build after the fangscorcher fight especially where he finally feels safe enough to admit that beneath it all he's a lot like them. not just about the gender stuff either, I think it's more the 'I try to imagine what a normal person would say and then I go with that and I have a rising ocean of grief and rage inside me I don't have the first idea what to do with and that no dams could hold back forever. but nevermind that' part that hits. I'm. in my emotions very badly about this. themmmmmm...

(rye came out as trans to mourn watch dwarf dad figure on dad figure's actual death bed, just in the nick of time before he lost consciousness for good basically, so even though his dad responded to it in the best possible way in that moment and it was ultimately a good thing, it's a subject matter that is also uh. unavoidably fraught lol. paired with 'MAKER I cannot add my neuroses about that to what taash is dealing with right now this has to stay tucked neatly behind my breastbone forever so it won't leak out and fuck with them' reserve/neurosis built upon neurosis and it's really no wonder it's a bit of an uphill battle at times)

[woodle-isbae]

Could you maybe write something for Eren and a black chubby reader? You can go wild with it tbh but I would love a little smut:)

Pillow baby

Eren x black!chubby!reader

Warnings : smut with little to no plot , onshot , eren is kind of demeaning, orgasm denial? , breeding kink? , PiV( wrap it b4 u tap it)

"Y'know...you look so good in that dress."

"Thank you baby"

"I might need a closer inspection"

~ ♡ ~

"E-renn , wait please , I cant-"

"Shh mama , you can"

Eren currently had you face down ass up , gripping at your dress and hips , abusing his dick into your pussy.

He had you absolutely fucked up , your hair a mess and a tit popping out, screaming into the pillow as he continued his assault into your cunt

"This fat pussy taking me so well"

His words degrading yet full of praise, enchanted with how you sucked him in at every thrust, eyes focused on the thick white ring around his cock as it disappeared in your folds

"Rennn , I'm gonna cum!"

"Hold it for me , you can do that for me huh?"

You didn't need to see his face to know he had the cockiest smirk ever , his hair clung to his forehead

"Ooo , this pussy is just so pretty , don't you think so? The way you jus' suck me in is deadly."

His tone teasing and demeaning, grunting at each thrust that became sloppy , indicating he was close

"Eren please , I cant hold it!"

"Unt unt. Your gonna cum with me , yeah? You can do it , just a little- fuck -more"

You were practically shaking , tears streaming down your face from the denial , you can't bear it any longer.

"Shit-you can cum , let it all out."

A loud moan leaving your lips as you spasmed against him , juices leaking all over his torso and your thighs.

Before you could even process it , you felt him cumming in you , filling you up nicely , halting his hips against yours as he caught his breath , ringed fingers drawing soft shapes on your hip

"That was fun , right?"

"Eren...you ruined my dress!"

[catacombbee]

school bus graveyard headcanons because im thinking about them

and because im projecting

just general / random headcanons

Tyler has arachnophobia and entomophobia. creepy crawlies are a HARD NO for Mr. Hernandez. Jackass bullies? No problem. Phantoms trying to eat him? Easy. Tree? Been there, done that. Fucking spiders? get it the FUCK away. mans has a visceral skin crawling reaction to even SEEING something creepy crawlie. it's one of the only things that makes him seriously panic other than yk someone being hurt

Ashlyn has autism yes this is basically canon i think. BUT Ashlyn has a lot of texture sensitivities both with clothes and with food. itchy scratchy clothes are a no. she cannot stand t-shirts keeping their tags they rub and scratch her neck and it makes her want to scream. she cuts the tags out before wearing anything. and food she can't have anything too squishy or tough or else she just loses her appetite entirely.

^^ to build on the clothing tags. everyone else in the group cuts the tags out of their jackets/hoodies and some shirts so if Ashlyn wants to borrow something she can be comfortable

Aiden is down bad for someone wearing his clothes. this can apply to any ship you want, i like him with Ashlyn Tyler or Logan (ive like never seen any talk abt Aidgan? Loden?) but regardless. whoever it is Aiden likes he gets so giddy butterflies giggly seeing someone wear his clothes. this is moreso for Ashlyn or maybe Logan because Ashlyn is so much smaller than Aiden that his sweatshirt would probably hang off her and Aiden would just abdjshfkefbns she's so cute!! this is mostly an Aidlyn hc for me but Logan would also be cute in anyone else's sweatshirt

uh if it's not clear by now im a multishipper ive said it before BUT i like Tyben a lot. they find calm and quiet in each other and bond through expressing themselves through something much healthier: music. i adore Tyben. AND because of Ben in the canvas webtoon: Tyler calls him ladybug. "Hey ladybug" "It's okay ladybug ive got you" "ladybug, you okay?"

kinda related to previous one but like blush hc. Ben does not blush. maybe a little pink on his cheeks. but his EARS. his ears get so RED when he's angry or when he's flustered. his face might be 😐 but you look at his ears and they're red you know he's flustered

ALSO everyone learned ASL for Ben so he didn't have to just use notes n stuff. Aiden was already learning but everyone else picked up on it

Logan likes compact spaces, they male him feel safe and secure. Like the tire! He feels very nice and snuggly in his tire. But also like. under beds. in closets (haha). one time they played hide and seek in Aiden's house and Logan won because he fell asleep curled up in an empty cabinet. Logan loves being little spoon because he just fits snugly in everyone's arms

it's been mentioned Tyler plays guitar, but i hc that he's also a really good artist. because he got into baseball for a scholarship he's kinda dropped both art and music, but in getting to know the others and especially Ben he gets back into playing music which leads to him drawing again. he doodles pictures of his friends and they realize what a good artist he is. that's how he realizes he actually has passion for creativity and decides he wants to be a tattoo artist.

(i was writing a tyden tattoo artist Tyler au on a reblog draft from a post @\the-killies made and like forgot abt it. someone peer pressure me if you think that sounds like snth you wanna read. it was probably over 1k words by the time i forgor)

Taylor likes mechanics (cus. the club) but she also knows some programming. this is solely because I think Taylor would like making little robots just for fun. Aiden would beg her to make him a little robot like that one companion toy robot Cosmo

in canvas sbg Logan brought a bunch of clothes for them to wear in the pictures/videos they took. so. Logan likes cosplay and renn faires. History is one of his favorite subjects (the other being science. english/literature is a very close third. he doesn't dislike math just isn't his favorite) so he has a lot of clothes from different time periods because of the renn faires he's been to.

This is a really unhinged headcanon and isn't something ive ever thought about before but thinking about Logan having outfits and stuff made me think who would be the most likely to be a furry. and no not Logan. it would be Aiden. hes rich enough to splurge on his fursuit. THIS IS A JOKE I DONT HC HIM AS A FURRY THIS IS A "WHOS MOST LIKELY TO" PLEAS

Aiden's favorite subject is history, he likes reading about wars but he also enjoys learning about other cultures and differences from how we live in modern day America. Aiden would probably study anthropology just for the fun of it. he and Logan bond over their love of history. Aiden can't remember what he had for lunch yesterday but he can tell you every little detail he knows about the Civil War start to finish, dates and names and locations and all.

this is a really weird hc but. Ashlyn is an amazing rapper. there was a karaoke night and one song someone did had a rap part coming up and they were like ahaha it's too fast for me and Ashlyn just stood up. took the mic. and fucking blew everyone's minds. and then she sat down like she didnt just rock their world

this last bit is self indulgent. assuming the phantom world things don't last forever, the kids get therapy eventually :D

^^ building on that, Ben specifically, he lives in my head rent free. i love him sm. Ben gets therapy for not just the phantom world things but everything beforehand. slowly and surely, starting with Aiden and Lily and maybe whichever person he's shipped with, he starts talking again. Some days are better than others, sometimes he gets quiet again, other times he goes for days talking as much as anyone (except aiden he yaps.) everyone almost cries when Ben is doing something and begins singing to himself because they realize he's better

im gonna do like gender & sexuality headcanons too,,, maybe later. might do silly ship hcs too cus i ship so many pairings here

[portals-posts]

Pretty girls

2018!Billie eilish x fem!"nepobaby" reader

Fluffy fluff, short short drabble

a/n: I know the title might not go with this writing, but I couldnt really think of a title(yes, the titles from renne rapps snow angel album🫣)

Summary: Billie is always having Y/n on her lap when she can. (Part.1?)

"What you doin' mama?" Billie asked as she plopped on to the bean bag-y couch just behind her girlfreind. " 'M just fixing my makeup" She replied, focused on her mascara. " Wanna do mine for me mamas?" Billie asked adjusting her self, getting more comfortable on the soft couch. "Yeah sure baby" Y/n answered turning around, getting up and sit in a way that she can do Billie's mascara and be comfortable at the same time. "Thank you baby", bil thanked, slowly licking her lips "Youre welcome!".

a/n: sorry this is a short short writing, but I hope you like it!🫀😊

[mysticstarlightduck]

OC Picrew Tag!

I wasn't tagged but I found this really cool picrew, and I made some of my characters with it and thought you guys might like giving it a try too so here it goes!

From Scrapyard Boys:

Chase Raith ("Lazerstorm")

Valen Cassidy

Jordan Raith ("Sleet Slasher")

Quince Warren

From Supernova Initiative:

Artemis Zreeth

Jack Tithus

Deimos Soll:

From The Forgotten Ones

Arion "The 'Broken' Mage" Syndrir

Asael

Deryc

From Song of Thorms

Orianna Whisperleaf

Renn Atrius

Kane Mylestrom

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart, @ray-writes-n-shit

@the-golden-comet, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams,

@wyked-ao3 and OPEN TAG

[funky-little-fiction]

Art by @baisleyarts

The life of young private investigator Jack Overland had been a challenging but overall mundane one. He worked in Toronto alongside his uncle, honing his skills under the older man's guidance for multiple years in relative peace.

Though, when a strange package arrives at his office containing a brightly colored stone: his life is thrust into chaos as an amnesiac supernatural being takes over his eyes leaving him blind. Little does Jack know that this was just the beginning of his and his new tentative ally's long journey that would bring them into the path of monsters and gods.

For the past year or so, I've been writing a Roleplay with my dear friend Renn inspired by the amazing podcast "Malevolent." The RP started out as a fun little idea that turned into 126,079 words and counting of raw replies between us both.

And we are now considering editing this RP into a full fledged fanfiction with characters from "Rise of the Guardians" but in a gritty 1930s setting with supernatural creatures and gods beyond human comprehension.

This post is a little test-run to see if there might be some interest in a story such as this.

This story includes but is not limited to:

Mystery

Horror elements

Violence and gore

Slow-burn Monster Romance (Passes Harkness Test)

Expansive worldbuilding

Original Characters

Character Injury and Death

If you see this post and you think this is something you might like to read, please like or reblog this post! We're only willing to put in the work to refine this RP into a proper fanfiction if there's people out there who might enjoy it.

[whumpy-writings]

The Dhampir Files

For Febuwhump 2024, I will be writing an Of Vampires and Men spin-off mini series called The Dhampir Files.

This story takes place in the same world as the main OVAM storyline, but you don't have to read OVAM to enjoy TDF or vice versa.

CW: Implied forced pregnancy, implied future abusive parents

Felix and Mildred Turner are vampires, Lucians, scientists, and madly in love. They just had their first child together, a beautiful baby girl named Violet. The Turners specialize in biology, specifically vampire and human physiology and anatomy. But they want more. They want to be able to study dhampirs, the illegal offspring of vampires and humans. Dhampirs are hard to come by, but when a friend offers them a pregnant human and her human lover, the Turners can't turn down the opportunity. Once the baby human, Miles, is born, they put their plan into action. Soon enough, they have what they've been dreaming about: two dhampirs. Renn has a vampire father and a human mother, and Cal has a vampire mother and human father. Now all the Turners have to do is wait until the dhampirs reach maturity. . .

General content warnings for this series are abusive parents, multiple whumpers, carewhumpers, and lab whump.

Basically this entire series is about abusive parents (though Renn and Cal are both adults). I know that's a sensitive topic for a lot of people, so if you want to avoid this series, you can block the following tags:

#parent whumper

#renn and cal

#the dhampir files

#abusive parent tw

I'll also be starting up a separate tag list for this series. If you want to be added to the tag list, either reply to this post or send me an ask!

Every time I start a new series I think "This is the darkest thing I've ever written," but with this one it might actually be true. Renn and Cal will be going through some shit. It's gonna be a great time (at least for me, the boys are absolutely not having a good time).

[broodwolf221]

dadwc prompts/info - now including davg content! (updated: 1/17/25)

note: if characters are listed in multiple canons, feel free to specify or i'll just pick one

general info:

no non-canon character death

pls specify prompt list ur using

solo, platonic, and poly prompts welcome

i enjoy writing politics - romance - smut - horror - whump

general prompts:

rare/unusual words (mine, but feel rb/use it yourself!)

sentences

micro story (please send the word/phrase)

medieval/fantasy sentences

deep conversations

people who aren't used to kindness

vague prompts: eerie edition

quote prompts:

as said by cassandra pentaghast

as said by dorian pavus

as said by solas

as said by merrill

fluff/romance/smut prompts:

fluff

50 types of kisses

sleeping

cuddles and snuggles

smutfic (please send word/phrase)

kinktober (will accept any but day 16/flashing)

angst/whump prompts:

what are you hiding from me?

eerie loneliness

heavy content (mine, but feel free to rb/use it yourself!)

patching up wounds

other prompts:

oc codex

fantasy setting

characters:

ocs - nessa lavellan | liall talas | daw aldwir | velari lavellan | atros shiral | delwyn lavellan | dimitra | valyris lavellan | halcor brosca | feydis lavellan | sybil thorne

dai - solas | varric | cole | morrigan | calpernia | cassandra | sera | dorian | the iron bull | leliana | cullen | josephine | flemythal | renn | valta | ameridan | talena | harding

da2 - anders(justice) | fenris | merrill

dao - leliana | morrigan

arlathan - mythal | andruil | ghilan'nain

davg - fragment!mythal | morrithal | ghilan'nain

relationships (ot3+ are welcome!):

solas x (daw | nessa | mythal | andruil* | ghilan'nain* | elgar'nan* | varric | morrigan | calpernia | velari | atros | valyris | cassandra | cullen | bull | dorian)

anders x fenris

cassandra x (varric | sera | leliana | solas)

dorian x (feydis | bull | solas)

morrigan x (halcor | leliana | solas)

sera x (delwyn | dagna | cassandra)

cullen x (dimitra | solas | dorian)

ghilan'nain x (andruil* | solas*)

daw x (nessa | solas | bellara)

sybil x (davrin)

*messy/complicated ships, might end up in dead dove territory

major ocs:

nessa lavellan (f!rogue, solas)

velari lavellan (f!mage, solas)

atros shiral (m!rogue; city elf!inquisitor, solas)

delwyn lavellan (f!rogue, sera)

valyris lavellan (f!mage, solas)

cyren lavellan (trans f!mage, solas)

liall talas (f!mage, dalish, warden, no romance)

feydis lavellan (m!mage, dorian)

dimitra (non-inky, f!mage(/templar), cullen)

halcor brosca (m!rogue, morrigan then nate)

daw aldwir (info)

sybil thorne

quick oc info:

nessa - soft, stubborn af, has a daughter with solas, peaceful family life, insomuch as it can be

velari - complicated, guilt-ridden, kinky, power couple

atros - so complicated, loads of trauma, volatile, passionate about justice, on solas' side no matter what

delwyn - young, silly, grows a lot, balanced, ends up becoming a very good leader, all in for sera

valyris - older, reserved, contemplative, quick judgements but willing to reassess, non-magic healer (healer has the bloodiest hands), leads from a distance bc she's scared of caring

cyren - playful, irreverent, a little selfish, deliberate, actions speak louder than words

liall - body horror warden who's into it, macabre and morbid, curiosity as a character flaw

feydis - steady, passionate, righteous fury but very, very deep inside him, quick, dry wit

dimitra - self-sufficient, guarded, expected to become a templar but magic manifested, ended up in the circle, so many confrontations with her assumptions that she couldn't possibly count them all

halcor - rough around the edges, a bit ends justify the means, good at heart but doesn't lose sleep over bad choices, matter of fact, heart eyes about magic

MINOR DAVG SPOILERS:

daw - a veil jumper, daw has a complex history with the dread wolf - not a personal history, but a spiritual one. after being recruited by varric, they are desperate to stop solas, whatever the cost... but over time, they begin to understand him and realize that they want to save him

sybil - tba

[home-of-renn]

Just imagine Nocturn acting as Danny's older cousin.

Nocturn was the youngest Ancient till Danny came along and Clockwork had chastised him after his latest attempt to 'play' with the newly formed Half. Danny's still far too young and far too attached to his perceived mortality for Nocturn's games and Clockwork insists that he find a new way to bond. So he takes to visiting the Halfa's dreams and ensuring him a good night's sleep - and maybe throwing in a few wacky scenarios at the boy's expense and watching him fumble about in his own dreamscape where he's unable to hurt himself.

Just Danny having an annoying older cousin who plays games and cracks jokes/pranks that he's too young to get and the whole relationship is kinda one sided cause everyone forgot to cue Danny in that Nocturn isn't actually an evil meddling ghost. And now that Nocturn isn't the youngest anymore he likes popping in and checking up on Danny who's always ready to square up and Nocturn just finds it endlessly amusing. It's kinda like getting threatened by a toddler who's just learnt how to crawl.

Clockwork is so tired of the both of them.

[midnightwind]

poking at the regret prison reunion again, have a preview~

[vaguely-concerned]

WIP folder game

I was tagged by @jhezenkoss! Thank you so much for the tag, I actually do have some small bits and bobs laying around that might be fun to share! :D 

Rules: make a new post with the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Tag as many people as you have wips. People send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, then post a little snippet or tell them something about it!

My current active WIP documents are called *a-hem*: 

— *sigh* Zeblue Nonsense 2 Electric Boogaloo (this was the document in which I initially started ‘that looks on tempests and is never shaken (unfortunately)’ right in the middle of writing ‘Tiptoe through our shiny city’ (the working title of which, of course, was Zeblue Nonsense), to explain the tone of gentle defeat you may detect here lol. I still have a few unfinished pieces in there, among them one Blue POV thing I’d love to see finished one day) 

— Dragon Age 2024 (Self-explanatory, a bunch of different Dragon Age wips all in one doc b/c I’m a mess! Subheadings of note ‘Teia and Viago’, ‘Sophia and Alistair (scars)’, ‘Rye & Renn stuff’ and ‘Lucanis and Illario’)

— Rye and Lucanis (Literally what it says on the tin, it’s 6k and still going of pure Rookanis baby)

— 2024 draft TF x Graves Tarot fic long (Because god help me I am still working on it I promise you the TF POV longfic is real and does exist and will be done one day it just. It’s taking a lot of a while. I'm not happy about it either)

— DS9 (I’m not currently actively working on anything in here, but there are some snippets of things I never shared and still quite like! It’s all Garashir needless to say and because of who I am as a person) 

Tagging, if amenable to being tagged and certainly including art wips if desired: @inversway and @rederiswrites, and anyone else who might like to do this meme! :)

[enortonauthor]

A new home & a new blog feature

Welcome to my new little corner of the internet where hashtags make the content discoverable by more people!

The old blog is still around (link here) so you can read old posts and enjoy all the poetic goodness there, but henceforth, this will be my home for Poetry Friday and publishing news.

Along with a new blogging home, I’m introducing a new feature on the blog: Creator’s Corner!

Every month or so I’ll be featuring another creator who will tell us about the stories they create and their creative process and I'm excited to launch this series featuring author Diana Renn. You might remember the first book in Diana's Backyard Rangers series The Trouble at Turtle Pond, which featured a group of middle school kids working to save endangered turtles in their neighborhood. This time it's owls that need help from Miles and the Backyard Rangers in The Owl Prowl Mystery. I'm excited to introduce you to this new instalment in the Backyard Rangers series, and to feature Diana in the Creator's Corner!

Diana, what do you create?

I'm mostly a mystery writer. I started out writing international mysteries featuring globetrotting teen sleuth, and now I'm writing a series of four eco-mysteries for middle grade readers, featuring an intrepid team of self-appointed young wildlife rangers called the "Backyard Rangers." TROUBLE AT TURTLE POND (book 1) focused on wildlife crimes impacting endangered freshwater turtles in Massachusetts. THE OWL PROWL MYSTERY (book 2) is about some unethical birdwatchers, a celebrity owl, and some wildlife photographers who might do anything to get the perfect shot. (Up next: foxes, frogs and salamanders!) I love writing about nature and about neurodiverse kids. I also write and publish creative nonfiction essays for adults, mostly on issues related to the natural world and conservation. I enjoy verse as well and have a couple of novel in verse manuscripts in various stages.

What inspires you to create?

Travel and close-to-home adventures on unfamiliar routes. Moving. Anytime I can explore a new environment, or take a new route somewhere, I find myself thinking about "home" with fresh perspective. New ideas bubble up. Story problems I've wrestled with start to resolve. New connections between ideas appear. Just being out in the world and paying attention to people, places, nature, animals feels like dipping my paintbrush into paint. I quickly zero in on things that interest me. I rarely get fresh inspiration just sitting at my desk.

What is your creative process?

I spend a while gathering ideas and resources if I'm writing a book. This process might take months. I jot down ideas - maybe first by dictation on my phone, on walks - and if they start to accumulate and I see the shape of a book, I shift to a notebook. Often I go back and forth between phone dictation to capture ideas and then exploring those ideas more fully in the notebook. When I know the premise, the main characters, the crime basics (if it's a mystery) and can envision the opening scenes, I open up a Word doc (old school!) and start writing. I outline a bit, but leave myself room to discover. I take stock every 30-40 pages and let myself revise a little and chart out the next few chapters. I am not a rigid outliner, but I need a sense of direction and upcoming scenes. I share early drafts with trusted critique partners and revise a little as I go. When I reach the end of a draft, I do two or three big revisions, and subsequent editorial passes. My trusted critique partners help me from going off the rails and generally don't let me give up. It's a long process, which is why I like taking breaks to write essays; essays come to me very quickly, sometimes in just one sitting, with very little planning and minimal revising.

Tell us about one of your creations.

I feel especially proud of THE OWL PROWL MYSTERY not only because I've always loved owls and care deeply about them, but because this book comes out of a lot of community connections I have made, from birders in my neighborhood, to bird photographers and rehabbers who corrected my errors and gave me ideas, to wildlife biologists who let me shadow them out in the field. I'm proud of the real science and the real conservation issues underlying what I hope is a fun, page-turning mystery. I learned how to be a neighbor to birds in the process of researching and writing this book, and I hope readers will pick up a few tips as well. But as I wrote the acknowledgments section of this novel, I had the opportunity to reflect, in awe, how many people impacted the writing of that book, and how writing science-based novels involves so much creative collaboration. I could never have written it all on my own; consulting experts and sharing my work at earlier stages in the process than I ever did before is now integral to my creative process.

Where do you create?

I am very lucky to have a home office space, which is where I do a lot of my revising and editing. It's also where I do my day job work, so I like to change scenes when I'm in early planning and drafting stages of a project. Sometimes I write outside, in my son's old treehouse or in a folding chair in the driveway. Often I write on the go, walking my dog and talking into my phone. I'm protective of my ideas and strive to capture them as soon as they come. That said, writing outdoors -- even though it's a source of inspiration for me --- is sometimes overrated. Lots of distractions can interfere. (Weather! Bugs!)

If you could have a beverage of your choice with another creator, who would you choose, what would you drink, and what would you like to talk about with them?

I always love talking shop with other writers. If time travel is an option, I would go back to the late 1920s or early 1930s, to the Pera Palace Hotel in Istanbul, Room 411, and have a very rich cup of espresso with Agatha Christie. I would, of course, choose a time after which she had finished writing Murder on the Orient Express, so as not to be a distraction. I'd be tempted to ask her about her mysterious 11-day disappearance, but maybe instead we'd just talk shop, over our coffee. I'd like to know all about her process, and where she found all her ideas, and how she worked out her plots.

Thank you Diana for giving us a glimpse into your creative life!

Diana Renn is the author of the middle grade eco-mysteries TROUBLE AT TURTLE POND (Fitzroy Books / Regal House 2022) and its sequel, THE OWL PROWL MYSTERY (out August 13, 2024). TROUBLE AT TURTLE POND was named a 2023 Green Earth Book Awards Honor Book and a Massachusetts Book Award "Must Read." Diana has also written three YA mysteries: TOKYO HEIST, LATITUDE ZERO, and BLUE VOYAGE (all published by Viking / Penguin Random House). She has also worked in educational publishing and taught ESOL, writing, and literature; she now works as a freelance editor and a book coach specializing in mystery. Originally from Seattle, Washington, she now lives in Concord, Massachusetts in a neighborhood she shares with turtles and owls, some of whom have inspired her books. Visit her online at http://dianarennbooks.com and on Instagram at @dianarennbooks; you can also read and subscribe to her free newsletter, Mysteries That Matter, at https://dianarenn.substack.com.

Poetry Friday

This second instalment of the Backyard Rangers series, like the first, has many of my favorite themes: nature, mysteries, and authentic, inclusive portrayals of neurodiverse characters (in this case, ADHD). This is a great series for the middle grader in your life who identifies with any (or all!) of those things! On this Poetry Friday, after hearing about Diana's new book, it's the perfect time to revisit this poem from my Spooktober series of poems in 2021.

Our Poetry Friday host this week is Janice Scully at Salt City Verse. Fly on over to her corner of the internet to find links to much more poetic goodness!

[lassieposting]

So this was meant to be a little headcanons post about Vesemir's main relationships over the years, but it got wildly out of control so here have five little ficlets instead

ILLYANA

Vesemir is six when he decides he's going to marry Illyana.

He's never known a life without her in it. She's four months his junior, his playmate practically from birth. He pulls her pigtails and chases her with worms, and she doesn't tell his father. He plays house with her for countless hours, letting her henpeck and berate him the same way her mother henpecks her father, and doesn't complain. When they're nine, her father succumbs to the wasting sickness, and she's forced to grow up; she takes on chores of her own, becomes mature and responsible and levelheaded in all the ways Vesemir is not, but her eyes still light up when he leaves stolen honeycake beneath her cot in the indentures' dormitory.

He's not giving up on her - he's not - when he runs away to join the witchers. He always intends to return to her, like he promised that day by the frozen lake. He'll take the most dangerous contracts, make the kind of coin they could only have dreamed off as impoverished brats, and she'll have her lake house, her painting, her wine and food and whatever else she's decided she wants in the intervening years. It never occurs to him that she might not be there when he gets back.

She isn't.

She writes before his Trial of the Grasses, and isn't that just a note and a half to go out on? Forget me, Vesemir, she says, as he's fucking throwing up his own insides in a pit surrounded by dead and dying boys.

(He's not a complete moron. He knows she didn't write that letter - not by her own hand, at least. The old master never taught any of his indentures to read or write. Vesemir's learned at Kaer Morhen, but Illyana's not had that opportunity, and she's got real elegant handwriting for someone who's only just learning to write a few words. No - at best, she dictated it. He's...not surprised, in the end, to hear that her new master's family had a son who cared for her. He's just surprised that a pampered nobleman was thoughtful enough to give a servant girl that kind of closure.)

He doesn't expect to survive the Trial, but he does. Mutagens burn through his blood and remake him from the ground up. Four survivors, in his training class. Him and Luka. Rennes and Sven. The lucky few.

He goes out on the Path, and he does his best to do as she asked; forget me, Vesemir.

Since he was six, he believed he'd marry Illyana.

He doesn't.

FILAVANDREL

Vesemir is in his late twenties when he meets Fil, barely out of Kaer Morhen. He's got two or three years out on the Path, and he thinks he's a seasoned hand, because he's young and dumb and overconfident.

It's his first time going after a higher vampire without Deglan backing him up. He's not a dullard, he's done his research, but he's inexperienced, and he stands his ground where he should've dodged. It happens. He feels his ribs break, feels something puncture, chokes on blood. Sheer animal panic takes over, and for the first time in his life, he turns tail and flees from a fight. The bastard laughs, jeers, as he runs for his fucking life.

(He'll go back and take the fucker's head, later, better prepared and with a plan. He's paid well for it, but he comes away from that hunt with a hefty coin purse, a livid new scar, and a whole new respect for the lethality of his chosen career)

Fil stumbles upon him toppled facedown in the dirt at the side of the road with his horse huffing nervously at him as he bleeds out in the muck. Devastatingly romantic, as first meetings go.

It'll be a while yet before the Great Cleansing, but Fil already has every reason to hate humans. He's only marginally less hostile towards witchers. He's got shit to do. Somewhere to be.

He stops anyway.

He saves Vesemir's life. Nurses him back to health, such as it is. Hunts for him. Cooks for him. Straps up his ribs so they'll mend clean. Watches over him while he sleeps. Helps him lift his head up to drink a vial of Swallow whenever he needs it - the round bottle, he asks for, since Fil doesn't know shit about witcher elixirs. Bullies foul-tasting, fouler-smelling elven remedies down his throat that dull the agony to a bearable pain and make it hard to keep his eyes open.

He's...touched, might be the word. Fil is aloof and prickly and pretty bossy for a guy who looks like one punch could lay him out, but he's also...well. He's kind.

And fiercely intelligent, when Vesemir manages to get him talking in the evenings. And funny, in a serious kind of way. And oddly striking in a certain light.

Which, no, wait - that's probably the blood loss talking.

...right?

They part once Vesemir has healed enough to be able to stay in the fucking saddle without keeling over, and honestly, he's a little disappointed. He likes Fil. Fil's company, he means. The - the conversation. You know.

He...maybe realises a few things about himself on the way home.

He speaks to Deglan about Fil when he gets back to Kaer Morhen. Or. Freaks out a little at Deglan about Fil, might be more appropriate? He'll laugh about it, one day, looking back - Deglan doesn't do feelings, and he spends the entire conversation looking like he'd rather feed his own dick to a manticore than hold Vesemir's hand through any kind of emotional revelation, but when Vesemir runs out of steam, the old buzzard heaves a heavy sigh, throws back his entire glass of wine, and - like it pains him - grits out, "Look, young feller, if it's bothering ye this much, just fuck the elf and get it over with. Ye'll either enjoy it or ye won't. Either way, problem solved."

Which makes sense, actually. So when he runs into Fil again, several months down the line, that's exactly what he does.

Well, sort of. Fil knows what he's doing and Vesemir doesn't, and also Fil is a bossy pain in the arse, so he sort of...takes the reins and then just never gives them back. But it turns out Vesemir is - hm. Kind of into that, actually. It's educational, and fun, and apparently wins Sven thirty crowns in a betting pool Vesemir didn't even know existed, so whatever.

(He'll repay his life-debt eventually, in Cintra. He's just finished killing a territorial and directionally-confused water hag who found her way into the bowels of the castle through a fucking sewer tunnel. He emerges via the castle's gaol, and he's following a Cintran guard to his sizeable reward - royal contracts are always lucrative - when he catches Fil's scent coming from one of the cells, overlaid with sickness and infection and fear, and the strange scents of a dozen other elves crammed into the same cell. Witchers aren't supposed to get involved in political conflicts, but...it's Fil. Political neutrality be damned. He rips the door off its hinges with a blast of aard, and guides the captive elves out of the city via the tunnel he's just oh-so-helpfully de-hagged for them. The guard...well, he gets rowdy, and Vesemir deals with him, fast and efficient. Deglan, when he finds out, is furious, which is fine, because Vesemir isn't proud of it either. He knows he's broken the guild's code.

He'd do it again anyway.

Of course he would. It's for Fil.)

LUKA

Luka is the first friend Vesemir makes when he arrives at Kaer Morhen. He's a few years younger; a scrawny, loudmouthed runt of a kid, angry at the world and everything in it, with an unfortunate habit of starting shit with boys twice his size. He calls Vesemir a stupid son of a bitch, that first night in the stables when Sven asks for his story, because he's the only one in their initiate group who volunteered to become a witcher, and Vesemir bristles, lunges up and knocks him flat, and Luka grins savagely at him from the floor, wipes his split lip on his ragged sleeve and tells him, "You hit like my Ma. Learn to throw a punch, and maybe you'll live long enough to get out of here."

They're in the same training group - Vesemir is older, but he's never held anything more dangerous than a butter knife and he can neither read nor write, so they're in the same boat. He throws himself into training with the kind of motivation that only comes with wanting to be there, hours upon hours of drills and tracing letters with his pointer finger while he sounds them out like a small child, memorising monster features and alchemy ingredients, hanging on his tutors' every word. Barmin pairs him with Luka for sparring, and Vesemir tends to pull his punches against smaller opponents because it's, you know, unfair, but Luka is stabby and bitey and so fierce that he can take Vesemir two bouts out of four, and well, Vesemir can respect that.

He saves Luka's life in the Red Swamp, and something changes; Luka becomes his friend. When Luka wakes, Vesemir is perched on the end of his bed reading Illyana's letter. Luka rasps, "You saved my life," and Vesemir says, "Nah. Ghoul got in the way, I was aiming for you," and from that moment, they're inseparable.

They start sharing a bed early. It's purely common sense at first - Kaer Morhen is cold for unmutated boys even in summertime, Luka is skinny and underfed; it makes sense to let him burrow into Vesemir's side and share body heat. Then, after the Trial of the Grasses, the survivors are moved into a dormitory and...well. Luka is far from the only one having night terrors. Vesemir doesn't mind Luka crawling in beside him, shaking, pressing close like he's trying to get under Vesemir's skin. He thinks he's dead half the time, poor bastard, trapped in his own rotting corpse, and that's a lot worse than any of the nightmares Vesemir has, so he lets Luka sprawl over him and listen to his heartbeat and they get through those fucking months together.

Luka has known he liked other boys since he was small, and Vesemir has known Luka likes other boys since...gods, sometime before the Trial. It's not a big deal, and he's far from the only one in the keep who'd rather tumble other witchers. But when some of the older boys, newly-minted witchers back from their first year alone on the Path, let Vesemir tag along to go drinking and whoring in Ard Carraigh when he's about eighteen, Luka is weird and awkward about it for days, almost like he's sulking, as though he doesn't go about stinking of sex half the time himself.

Vesemir is highly intelligent, see. But it's...it's kind of a witcher thing to not be very bright, about all that feelings nonsense. It never crosses his mind that Luka is jealous.

He gets older. Deglan takes a personal interest in his training; he's an arse, but he's one of the best, and Vesemir hears him bragging to the other witchers occasionally - my lad this, my lad that. Vesemir's own father never bragged about anything he did. It's nice, to be worth that kind of pride.

And before he knows it, he's old enough to apprentice, and Deglan takes him out for his first year on the Path. It's tough for him and Luka, that year, to suddenly be separated from someone they've been joined to at the hip for near on a decade, but for Vesemir there's the distraction of the job - Deglan has him doing all the work an adult witcher would be doing, claiming that he's "only there to keep ye from gettin' yerself killed, young feller", and it turns out witchering is exhausting. But he's earning decent coin for the first time in his life, and Deglan teaches him some smart cons for when times are hard, and...he's good at it. Really, truly good at something, like he always wanted. Deglan has to intervene a few times, when a monster's about to eat him, but not half as much as he expected to need to, and Vesemir comes back to Kaer Morhen that winter with a new confidence and independence that make him feel like a seasoned warrior compared to Luka and Sven.

Luka missed him, desperately. And it turns out they don't quite know how to be two halves of a whole, anymore. That's...a tough few years, figuring out how to be two people, instead of one. And somewhere in the middle of it, Vesemir meets Filavandrel, and that's a whole fucking journey of self-discovery, and suddenly a few quirks of Luka's, in the way he acts around Vesemir, that he's never thought twice about start making sense.

When Luka is ready to apprentice, Vesemir starts hassling Deglan early - let me take him. Deglan is wary - Vesemir hasn't been a grown witcher that long himself, after all, but he has enough of Deglan's favour and trust that the old buzzard gives way. "If he gets killed because ye're arsin' about, or showin' off, ye'll carry that for the rest of your life. Take. This. Seriously."

And Vesemir does. He works Luka hard, but he steps in sooner than Deglan did for him when Luka needs help, and they spend their evenings flashing hard-earned coin in taverns. They work well together - not as two halves of a single whole, but as...like good food and fine wine. Both serve perfectly well alone, but...they're better together.

And he's less oblivious now than he was, when they were younger. He notices the little sideways glances Luka shoots him when he's bathing or changing his shirt, the light-hearted comments hovering just on the safe side of flirtatious, the sulking and the cold shoulder whenever he spends the night in a barmaid's bed. He brings it up after Luka cockblocks him for the third night in a row, chasing off the blacksmith's daughter with scowls and barbed remarks, because...well, because as it turns out, Luka has never been particularly subtle about his feelings; Vesemir has just been blind. He asks if there's anything Luka wants to tell him.

There is.

NENNEKE

After Kaer Morhen is sacked, he looks for somewhere safe to take the four leftover brats Deglan charged him with. He tries Kaer Seren first, because the Griffins aren't the worst, as other schools go, and they'd have all the facilities necessary for training young witchers, but that's a bust. He turns to Fil, who's hospitable enough when Vesemir shows up on his doorstep with four skinny, hollow-eyed little wretches trailing behind him like every man's worst nightmare, but he's barely got enough resources to feed his own people, and witchers eat like horses. It's Fil who points him to the temple, actually - the one place he knows of that will take in pity-cases longterm, even freaks like elves and mutants.

Nenneke is a mere junior priestess when Vesemir shows up with the boys. They're a fucking mess, he knows that - it's a little over a year that they've been on the road, never staying in one place for long, trying to always stay one step ahead of the rampant anti-witcher sentiment sweeping down from the north. The boys are twitchy and skittish - that's his fault, he knows that; he's been working while they travelled, because he has to, nobody else is going to earn coin to put food in their damned mouths, and that means he has to leave the whelps alone and vulnerable in a rented room somewhere for days at a time, where it's a benefit to them - no, where it's essential to their fucking safety - to be wary of humans. And he's become a brusque, grouchy bastard in that year, hard on them and harder on anyone else who comes near them, because it's -

It's been a lot. To - to deal with. Humans and - fucking mages - they all look like threats now. And he's the only thing between those kids and getting strung up in the fucking street like the vermin the humans think they are.

Anyway, the temple takes them in, because Melitele is a sucker for punishment, he guesses, and he's introduced to...gods, a whole fucking host of priestesses and acolytes, none of whom particularly stand out as anything other than probably not dangerous, and one of them is Nenneke. She's bald and beautiful and speaks with a strong accent he can't quite place, and apparently she likes brats, because she goes down on one knee to introduce herself to Lambert, and - well, with the benefit of knowing her a little better, he can surmise she was probably going to magic him a fucking...flower, or something, to win him over, but at the time...she opens her hand, palm-up, and he smells the scent of magic, and he reacts. It's not as bad as it could've been - he seizes a fistful of Lambert's little cloak, drags the boy back behind his own body and snarls at her to back off in a tone that sounds half-feral even to him, but he doesn't attack her or anything - but that one interaction is enough for them to take an instant dislike to one another.

It stays that way for a while.

She inserts herself into their lives in a truly infuriating way, always offering to teach the boys or play with them or take them down to dinner, and - it's not that he doesn't want the time alone, he does, he really does, but they're his fucking kids and he hates letting them out of his sight, hates leaving them with anyone, especially a gods-damned sorceress.

(Druid, she tells him firmly, the first time he calls her that. Apparently the difference is that she wasn't trained at Aretuza. She learned magic from...well, a fucking dream, or something, he doesn't know. He doesn't really see much of a difference, not for a long time.)

And she has a lot of opinions about his - he's loath to call it parenting - how he deals with the whelps. He's too hard on them, she insists. Too cold, too detached, too grumpy, too heavy-handed, too, too, too. He doesn't let them 'be children', whatever that means. Hovers too much. Doesn't show them he loves them enough. As if she could do any fucking better, in his place.

(She can. She does. He kind of hates her for it)

And the thing is - the temple is good for them. He's not so up his own arse that he can't see that. Geralt used to go days at a time without speaking a word, and now he talks to the priestesses in the halls. Eskel is less stressed, less overwhelmed with the pressure of keeping order while Vesemir works. Lambert is -

Lambert is Lambert. But he's Lambert a bit less offensively and a bit less angrily than usual.

He doesn't settle as quickly as they do. He's still prickly and tense and tired all the fucking time, because he doesn't really sleep. He catnaps, but...someone needs to be on guard, to protect the boys. He spends a lot of the night hours pacing the temple's empty, candlelit corridors like a wraith or brooding on a balcony with a decent vantage point over the temple grounds, and the rest of them in the hallway outside the bedroom the boys are sharing, meditating or reading or - or just staring blankly at the fucking pages of some ancient manuscript because he's read the same sentence five times already and the voices of his ghosts are too loud to keep out any longer.

Nenneke likes the late hours. She volunteers to go around lighting all the candles in the evenings, and he's...he's not sure if she just doesn't go to bed, or if she gets up multiple times in the night, but it's not unusual for her to amble past him in her house robe and slippers. She claims to enjoy the quiet. The peace.

Vesemir barely remembers what peace felt like.

One day, she catches him on the edge of dozing off on the bench outside the boys' door. He startles, lurching to his feet and taking a step to the side, blocking the way into their room, as she appears in the archway, the candlelight blurring around her like a halo. She stops there for a moment, looking at him like she's trying to figure him out. "They are safe here," she tells him. "And so are you."

That's all she says to him that first night, but over time, they get closer. She finds the gaps in his armour and pokes at them, and bit by bit, he lets her in. She does what she can to heal them - all of them. She teaches Eskel to control his signs. She works with Lambert on his temper. Does her best to mediate between Lambert and Vesemir, and teach them both some communication skills. When Vesemir can't sleep, she sits up with him, lets him exorcise his demons bit by painful bit until he doesn't have to clench his jaw to keep from welling up at Luka's name or flinch at Deglan's anymore.

(She'll tell him, eventually, that she's been skimming his surface thoughts when she spots him late at night. She's watched him replay it over and over: the moment he realised he'd as good as murdered Illyana, a hundred torturous scenarios where Luka dies alone and terrified, your fault your fault your fault. She'll tell him he's torturing himself, that he wasn't to blame for half the things he's laying at his own door, that he shouldn't be so hard on himself. And - he hasn't cried, hasn't let himself cry, since he heard Illyana's heart stop beating, because someone has to keep their shit together in this pack and it's not going to be the kids, but he will then, with his face buried in her shoulder like a child.)

They'll never be fixed, not really. Wounds like these don't ever truly heal. But they get to a point where Eskel starts laughing again, and Vesemir's smiles reach his eyes, and he starts sleeping again - in his room, on good days, or with his head in her lap while she fusses with his hair on bad ones.

Lambert even calms down some, which is nothing short of a fucking miracle.

Eventually, he gets to a point where he's able to focus on properly training the boys, and that's not something he can do at a temple. She - sensible and levelheaded as ever - points out to him one night, as they're sprawled out together in the dark, that the best place to train young witchers is probably a witcher keep. Has he ever considered returning to Kaer Morhen?

And that's what they end up doing.

MIGNOLE

He goes out on the Path again once all the whelps are done with their training, because he doesn't know what to fucking do with himself in Kaer Morhen anymore without them. He's not the only surviving witcher from before the sacking - there are stragglers, a few of them, who hadn't been home for the attack, and who'd made their way back once they heard that the keep was occupied again - but he's the only one who's been basically chained to the castle for the past...oh, however many years. And now his manacles are all grown up and witchering independently, and he realises that at some point, they'd become his whole fucking life.

He was someone before he became a single father of four. He'll just...adapt, like he always has.

For all that he's been out of the game for what feels like a lifetime, he hasn't changed that much. He's still fit, still strong, still fast, still startlingly handsome even if he does say so himself. There are some changes, of course. He's grown his hair out some. He's less picky about his contracts, because he hasn't had that luxury in years. And maybe he keeps an ear out in taverns for any stories of one of his boys passing through this way. So what? He's still him.

Getting back out there feels like coming home.

There's this one Oxenfurt nobleman he takes a job from, proud owner of most of the properties in an outlying district that's crawling with barghests. He's harmless enough - what Deglan would've called a killing lord (the ones who get you killed out of stupidity or inexperience, rather than a murdering lord, the ones who get you killed out of cruelty or greed) - but he's got a daughter who's a fucking menace. She's young and studiously inclined, and the first time he sees her she's chasing him out of the house with ink on her nose and several rolls of parchment tucked under her arm.

She plans to come with him, she announces, like it's a fucking given. She's never seen a barghest up close. She means to draw one for a paper she wants to submit to some academic journal. Perhaps he would be so kind as to identify its organs for her.

Which. Fucking what

He refuses point-blank, and she argues with him in what must be the most amusingly upper-class way anyone ever has - he's "terribly vexing", apparently, and he swears she actually stamps her foot in frustration under those long skirts at one point. She's got this thing where she seems utterly oblivious to just how dangerous that kind of excursion would be. Why would she be in any sort of danger from a living, hungry barghest? She'd have protection.

Him. The big strong witcher.

That's. Hm. Well, he's flattered, if nothing else.

He does not take her to draw living barghests, because he is not a fucking idiot. But he does return with a corpse slung across the back of his horse's saddle - a whole one, rather than just a head ("Gods, how frightfully unsettling it is!"). Because - because she has a pretty little button nose and long eyelashes and she looks up at him like she has no fear of him at all, and he's charmed, damn it.

He's wondered, over the years, what might have been different if he'd sought Illyana out sooner. She was only in her forties when her husband died. All those years, they might've -

Well, maybe Mignole reminds him of a road not travelled, is all.

Her father pays him generously, though he bemoans Vesemir's having brought "that gods-awful thing" back to the house, and Vesemir goes out to fill up on expensive Redanian brandy and equally expensive tobacco. It's the little things, see. The small luxuries he's had to miss out on, bringing up kids.

It's still early when a matronly woman approaches him at the bar, hooded and cloaked, and delivers a note penned in an elegant, swirly hand. It's Mignole, of all people, asking if he might be so kind as to return to her father's townhouse to identify some barghest organs that don't match anything found in a normal dog.

His eyebrows make for his fucking hairline, because that is a blatant lie. Barghests have no such unidentified organs. Either Mignole doesn't know what a kidney looks like or she doesn't want to see him about the beast.

He goes, because he's never been one to turn down an opportunity, and honestly her determination to go after what she wants is refreshing in the mincing, swooning world of noble ladies.

He hops the wall into her father's lavish garden, because he's 90% convinced this is not intended to be the kind of visit she'd want her father to know about, and spots her, reading a book by candlelight on the window ledge in one of the upstairs rooms. She startles when he tosses a pebble at the glass, but her face lights up when she spots him. He's able to climb the trellis right up to her window, and she opens it to let him in.

He doesn't leave until dawn. She doesn't ask him about the fucking barghest once.

[parf-fan]

This blog is still in a coma (as opposed to dead) for an indeterminate amount of time, but I need to make this one post.  If you don't feel like reading it all, just go look through the links at the end.  It's about a piece of theatre that is being streamed just this weekend.

There is precedent for me shouting excitedly on here about non-Faire theatre done by Faire actors, with particular precedent for the non-Faire theatre of Michael Stahler (Horace Tanningrove c.2019).  There is also precedent for me mentioning that I am Autistic, albeit possibly not in so precise a term, at least not outside of tags.  There is not, however, precedent for combining those two things in one post.  But there will be now.

I cannot say as much about this as I'd like, for making words is exceptionally mentally taxing for me right now, and I'm also thoroughly out of practice at writing.  But I'll do my best.

I am Autistic.  Amongst other things, this is what enabled me to so keenly observe and so thoughtfully analyze and so deeply keep track of so many things about PARF, allowing me, in turn, to make so many informed and understanding memes, jokes, headcanons, analysis, and occasional fics about the characters and events of PARF: it was my primary Special Interest for several years, and remains an ongoing dormant one now.  (The shifting of Special Interests is, conversely, also part of what rendered this blog so barren of late, but we won't go into that.) Being Autistic is more than only having Special Interests, of course, but that's the part that relates directly to this blog, and thus directly to you.  Being Autistic is a bigger part of my life and more important to me than can ever be stated, for I would quite literally be a fundamentally different person, with a different personality, if I were allistic (not Autistic).

Michael Stahler is also Autistic, and would be a fundamentally different (probably less interesting, in my opinion) person if he were allistic.  And while he has sometimes coded some of the characters he plays as Autistic, he has never before the last few months had the opportunity to play a role explicitly written as Autistic.  This is in part because so few examples of characters intentionally written as Autistic are remotely accurate or respectful; and even factoring in the poor examples, there are just so few.

From the 17th of May through the 4th of June, Michael starred in the world premier of playwright Juliette Dunn's “The Puzzle” at Hedgerow Theatre (don't worry, the title does not refer to Michael's character; in fact, as one of the articles I'll be linking below states, his role is “the most whole character in the story”). I had the immense privilege and joy of attending it twice.  I cannot do it justice in my current state of writing, and I frankly will not try.  Rather, I will link some of the many pieces of news coverage about the show below, and plead and entreat you to read at least some of them.  What I will say is that it was the most incredible play I've ever witnessed, and might even be the most amazing theatrical experience I've ever had – including all things Renn Faire and Theatre In the Mansion, which is no small feat.  I wanted to shout excitedly about it on this platform back before and during the run, but I didn't have it in me at the time to make the words, not even in writing. As established, I still only kind of have it in me to make words, but I seem to have hit the point at which I'm willing to make words even though it is costing disproportionate spoons and the words are sub-par.

For those of you who missed the show entirely (which is most of you), and those who wish to witness the show again, you have one more chance.  Thanks to the League of Live Stream Theater (which I did not realize was a thing that exists, and am delighted to be informed is), you can stream a performance of “The Puzzle” on June 16th (7:30pm EST), 17th (7:30pm EST), and 18th (2pm EST).  That's this Friday, Saturday, and Sunday, respectively. In each case, the stream starts at the indicated time, and is available on-demand for twenty hours after the performance ends. Tickets are $44 (that's the regular $35 ticket plus $9 for the platform fee).

If the antics of Horace Tanningrove ever brought a smile to your face or laughter to your lips; if PARF-fan's posts have ever enhanced your life; if you enjoyed the performance of sundry other Autistic actors at PARF, both Bacchanalian and Blackfryar (none of whom I can specify, as I did not ask their permission to namedrop them and their Autism on here), then I ask, I beg, indeed, I charge you to stream this show if it is in your budget.  Hell, have some friends or family over and split the ticket cost.  You will not be disappointed.  You will be treated to an astounding piece of theatre, a story about human connection and communication, and you will walk away from it wiser and a more developed person.

Here is the link to the show on Hedgerow Theatre's website.

Here is the streaming link.

Here is the link to view or download the program.  Even if you read nothing else from it, you really need to read the playwright's note (page three, four if you include the cover) before seeing the play, for context and definitions (particularly if you know little about Autism, but it's still important even if you're already informed).

The photos in one of the “artist spotlight” posts from Hedgerow's facebook page include pictures of the display that the audience had to walk past in the theatre to get to the house (put together by the dramaturg).  As with the playwright's note, it is very important to read this display for further context and explanations, particularly if you know little about Autism (and you'll likely learn something new even if you're already informed; I certainly did).  I am having difficulty making the “embed post” thing work, so I have instead attached the pictures I took of that same display (the text is more readable in these ones, anyway).  While I received permission to photograph the display, I did not ask about posting the pictures, and will remove them if Hedgerow asks.  The first five images are closeups of (most of) the relevant text (hence being more readable).  The remaining four are wider shots, intended to showcase the display more than the text.

And here are the many pieces of news coverage which do a far batter job than I currently can of describing the show and why you should see it.

Broadway World's initial article, a well-rounded introduction to the play.

Broadway World's followup article about the extended run and the streaming option. Much directly from the first article.

NBC10 Phillidelphia's video reporting on the show.  It's 2:37 long.  Good supplement to the well-rounded Broadway World article.

NPR and PBS WHYY: Mostly a behind-the-scenes angle, about the acting and the writing of it.  Definitely worth a read.

Li'l interview with Michael on KYW news radio.

Delco Culture Vultures: A review that provides a more detailed look at the content of the story and somewhat at the setup of the show.  Contains traces of info about the plot, and is thus to be avoided if you are as neurotic about anything that could be considered a spoiler as I am (so probably literally everybody will be fine to read it).

Broad Street Review: Discusses the title, takes us on a bit of a journey with the writer to go see the show, brings in additional perspective. Contains very detailed description of the flavour of the play, relates more events within the play than any other article.  Very good article, definitely worth a read if you're at all concerned about the content of the play, or otherwise unsure whether or not you want to see it.

Delco Times article.  Looks to be mostly rehashing of parts of the Broadway World article, but not wholly identical.  Has an audio option.

Philadelphia Inquirer's “The thing of the week” blurb.  The blurb is about halfway down the page.

The interview with the playwright referenced in the “Thing of the week” blurb; only available to paid subscribers (I thus have been unable to vet it or describe the contents), but it's not impossible that some followers here fall into that category.

Two short videos about a couple different aspect of the show, one from each of Michael's co-stars:

Daniel Passer

David Shiner

A wonderful post-show interview from WPPM with all three cast members.  There's enough detail about the events within the play that I would recommend listening to this after seeing the show.  Either way, you should definitely listen to it.  The link actually opens part-way through the interview, but you will need a free Soundcloud account to pull it back to the start of the interview (37:33).  If you don't, you will miss nothing about the show itself, but you will miss hearing Michael calmly and eloquently go off about the necessity of streaming theatre for accessibility.

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The Puzzle display (text closeups):

The Puzzle display (wide shots):