Noragami, FMA & ATLA

I redid this older comic I made for my storytelling class based on this post. Have some cute wlw love in your day.

geralt having to trust that jaskier will follow him through darkness with the faith that geralt can lead him through 

OR

The seven liberal arts: seven subjects from classical antiquity believed to be the foundation of wisdom and moral excellence.

Grammar, or the structural constraints of language

“And so cried the witcher, he can’t be bleat?” Geralt’s nose scrunches up. “What is that even supposed to mean?”

“It’s evocative,” Jaskier objects, pouting.

“It’s bloody nonsense,” Geralt grouses.

Jaskier scoffs. Geralt never did understand imagery.

Rhetoric, or the art of persuasion through words

“Toss a coin to your witcher, o valley of plenty!”

Jaskier is bored to tears with this gods-forsaken song and Geralt has always hated it. All the same, Jaskier makes a point of singing it at every tavern he stops in because by the end of the chorus his lute case is always heavy with coin.

And gods know they could both use a hot bath and a good meal.

Logic, or reasoned argumentation between opposing viewpoints

The barkeep’s face pulls into a sneer the moment he catches sight of Geralt. “We don’t want your type in here,” he snarls.

“Your type?” Jaskier’s eyes narrow to angry slits. “What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“You know what I mean,” the barkeep spits. “He’s barely human.”

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself?” Jaskier bellows, launching himself bodily over the bar.

Before his hands can close satisfyingly around the smug arsehole’s throat, however, he is brought up short by a firm grip around the back of his neck.

“Not now, Jaskier,” Geralt grumbles, hauling him away from the bar and out into the street.

Arithmetic, or the study of numbers

“Well.” Jaskier empties his coin purse onto the inn table. “I’ve got five Orens, a lot of fluff and, for some reason, a single Mariborian crown.”

Geralt grimaces. “I’ve got seven Orens from that drowner contract last week.”

“Looks like we’ll be sharing a bed tonight then.” Jaskier shrugs. It’s a simple matter of economy. And if he isn’t exactly opposed to the idea, no one needs to know.

Geralt’s face does something which isn’t strictly a smile. “Fine. But if you get fidgety in the night, I’m lying on you.”

Jaskier isn’t exactly opposed to that, either.

Geometry, or the properties of shape, size, and distance

“Love is like a pear,” Jaskier muses, tapping his quill against his lips.

Geralt doesn’t look up from sharpening his swords.

“A pear is sweet and has a distinct shape,” Jaskier expounds, warming up to his theme. And then the flourish of genius: “Try to define the shape of a pear.”

Geralt grunts. “It’s fucking pear shaped, Jaskier.”

Alas, the depths of Jaskier’s artistic musings are entirely lost on his current audience.

Music, or the arrangement of sounds into pleasing forms

Geralt twitches, his skin sickly white, his eyes blown wide and surrounded by black veins but seeing nothing. Jaskier has cleaned his wounds as best he can, and now there is nothing left for either of them to do but wait for the potions’ effects to run their course.

It’s always like this after a difficult hunt, and Jaskier has learned both how he can assist and the limitations of what help he can provide. He settles Geralt on a bedroll and draws a blanket over him, then grabs his lute and perches on a nearby tree stump.

He plays quietly, barely more than tapping against the strings, creating a gentle melody which undulates back and forth like the swell of waves onto a calm shore.

The lullaby drifts through the night, soft and soothing, and some of the tension seems to seep from Geralt’s jaw as he drifts off to sleep.

Astronomy, or the study of heavenly bodies

“That’s the Hunter, right there.” Jaskier points to the seven-star constellation visible to the east. “And there,” he moves his hand across the sky toward the west, “there’s his prey, the Stag.”

“An endless pursuit,” Geralt says, voice softened by the impressive quantity of mead they’d worked through. He shuffles closer, resting his head on Jaskier’s thigh as they stare up at the clear sky and its blanket of stars above. “Always linked yet forever held at a distance.”

Jaskier unthinkingly cards his fingers through Geralt’s hair. It must be the warmth of the summer evening, or maybe all that mead, but Geralt doesn’t pull away. Instead he hums, quiet and relaxed.

Please go on this journey with me. The doctor said it wasn’t cancer. It was another spleen.

So the guy leaves the elevator and I’m just, you know, my day just didn’t recover. And I kept thinking about it and thinking about it. And on my last day at that job, I was in the elevator riding down at the end of my workday with my little box of office supplies, and HE GETS ON THE ELEVATOR AGAIN WITH ME. He looks much less crazed. We were again alone. I may have dreamed the whole thing.

Because, look. I worked in a skyscraper in downtown San Francisco. There were hundreds of people in my building, spread across twenty floors. The odds of me seeing him again after that first time were nuts. And I hadn’t stopped playing that conversation over in my mind. So I thought, fuck it.

Me: “Hi, uh, so listen. A couple months ago you were on this elevator? And you made a phone call?”

Him, slightly wary: “Okay?”

Me: “So I didn’t mean to listen in but you know, this is close quarters.”

Him, flat: “Uh-huh.”

Me: “So I heard you telling someone that the doctor said it wasn’t cancer, it was another spleen. And like, it’s none of my business, but today’s my last day in this building and I will never have another chance, so I have to ask. WHO in your life has a second spleen?”

The guy looked at me for a second, and then he burst out laughing, and he said, “Oh, yeah, that was my dog.”

geralt + petting every horse he’s around

for science but only if u like it <3 who needs sleep anyway

Oh thank you for this lovely prompt 🥺

now let’s see if my 6% of battery will hold out here (they did!)

have 800 words of un-beta’d post-s2 Yennskier softs 💛

Yennefer is used to people’s thoughts around her sounding just slightly off. Manipulated because they know she can listen in — or they fear it at the very least. It gets old, the same strain put on mental proceedings that will wear people out until they slip up. Oftentimes it’s not even worth hiding, but it’s always something that makes her der both powerful and fraudulent. To have people fear her like that is exhilarating, but to be presented with a false version of someone’s truth is exhausting at best.

Geralt used to think of nice things after they slept together, and that was a time she came to really enjoy this for the first time. But then everything went to shit with Geralt and Yennefer tried not to listen in on anyone’s thoughts anymore, spare herself the trouble and roll her eyes at the tension in their shoulders regardless.

But now? Now she is in a drafty keep full of maudlin Witchers, a traumatised yet fierce girl, and a bard. And somehow she’s in bed with the bard now. Just lying there, side by side, Jaskier’s mouth shut for once as he stares at the ceiling. Hers is the only room in the keep not warmed with fire, and has thus become the only safe space they feel they can have. It was an unspoken agreement that first day when Yennefer held her door open to invite the bard with the shadows under his eyes inside. And with the way he lit up for the first time since… well. For the first time in her presence, really, something inside her settled and he spent every night in her room.

Just lying here. Beside her. Not quite touching, but Yennefer is especially aware of where his hand lies next to hers only a few inches away. If she only reached out with her pinkie, she—

Oh. There it is again. That song that has been on his mind ever since the second night, that always begins with a smile on his lips. And true enough, there is is. And Yennefer is staring as the song washes through him and over her, settling somewhere in her stomach as her heart picks up the beat.

the night before a dangerous mission

He did it to save me but does it count ?

I want a fic where Lance and Keith are being hush hush about their relationship but they still keep bickering (always about petty, mundane stuff) and this is how everyone finds out

For anyone interested in reading the books—or re-reading them, if you don’t own or don’t have the means to get your hands on physical copies—this is, as stated in the title, most definitely not a comprehensive list of free PDF files of the books. Nope. I would never upload a folder with all the books on Mega. Of course not, how preposterous, et cetera.

The Last Wish

Sword of Destiny

Blood of Elves

Time of Contempt

Baptism of Fire

The Tower of the Swallow

The Lady of the Lake