peppermintfables: Jiang Cheng from Mo Dao Zu Shi in the outfit of a Knight of Blood from Homestuck (Default)
2024-05-05 06:00 pm
Entry tags:

[sticky entry] Sticky: An Intro to Me

Hi! Welcome to my intro post. I'm Fables, they/he and 24 years old as of writing this post. I love reading, analyzing, ttrpgs and making stuff (mostly sewing but I'm willing to try out most crafts at least once). I'm mostly gonna use this account to share my cosplays, writing, reviews and general thoughts. I will try to post regularly (this is a lie). For access just ask, but most stuff will be public anyway. Also no hard feelings if you don't return it or revoke at any time for any reason. Sometimes interests drift apart :)

Anyway here's an overview of my current interests and projects:


Links:Main tumblr: peppermintfables
Writing tumblr: fairytaleriots
Ao3: fairytaleriots



Fandoms I look at:Black Sails
Homestuck
The Locked Tomb
The Magnus Archives
One Piece
The Raven Cycle
Rusty Quill Gaming
Scum Villain Self Saving System
The Untamed/MDZS
Witch Hat Atelier



Fandoms I make stuff for:Boku no Hero Academia/ My Hero Academia (Cosplay)
Black Sails (Fanfic)
Homestuck (Cosplay & Fanfic)
The Locked Tomb (Cosplay)
The Magnus Archives (Cosplay)
The Mortal Instruments/Shadowhunters (Cosplay)
One Piece (Fanfic)
Percy Jackson and the Olympians Universe (Cosplay)
The Raven Cycle (Cosplay)
Rusty Quill Gaming (Cosplay)
Stranger Things (Cosplay)



Finished Cosplays:Aizawa/Eraserhead (BNHA)
Annabeth Chase (PJO)
Blue Sargent (The Raven Cycle)
Cowboy AU Crowley (Good Omens)
Dirk Strider (Homestuck)
Eddie Munson (Stranger Things)
Isabelle Lightwood (The Mortal Instruments/Shadowhunters)
Palamedes Sextus (The Locked Tomb)
Sam Winchester (Supernatural)
Sollux Captor (Homestuck)
Wendy (Gravity Falls)



Cosplay WIPs:Gil Nightray (Pandora Hearts)
Palamedes Sextus Revamp (The Locked Tomb)
Jack Rackham (Black Sails)



Finished Writing:
Black Sails:
Life of Choices

One Piece:
Wedding Planning
Makings of a Crew (One Piece Live Action)

Other:
First Steps



Writing WIPs:
Black Sails:
- Sequel to Life of Choices

Homestuck:
- Supernatural AU: Repressing emotions, being ironic...the family business

- One Piece AU
peppermintfables: Panel from Homestuck showing Dirk Strider as drawn by Calliope (writing)
2025-03-06 02:57 pm

Fic: The Aspect Collection – Time

Titel: The Aspect Collection - Time
Fandom: Homestuck
Author: [personal profile] peppermintfables
Rating: G


A/N: A bit of a different header than usual, because this is a bit of a different project and approach. For a while now I've wanted to create a poetry collection in which each poem is based on one of the aspects from Homestuck. The idea of writing poetry as fanfiction fascinates me and I wanted to try too. The only problem: Poetry is scary and I've not written one since I was 12 years old. That was actually my very first published fanfic! I wrote it at one in the morning, it was about 6 lines long and very angsty, and then i posted it directly to fanfiktion.de without proof reading it. I've taken a lot more care with this one, but I think I need to start channeling 12 year old me's confidence. So I'm throwing my first attempt on here to figure out how I feel about it. This might not be the final version and I will share links once I've officially uploaded it to ao3. Anyway here is my poem based on the Time Aspect!

There’s a puzzle in a frame hanging on a wall.
Providing the wherewithal to recall
the joy found in the hours spend
matching part to part.
Now never to be undone or given a new start

There’s a blank page being filled.
Graphite smudged and ink spilled.
What’s now a work of art
was once a pen, was once an oak.
The pencil growing smaller with each and every stroke.

There’s stars twinkling in the sky.
Loud, but colorful and bright, pleasing to the eye.
Not suns, enduring and distant,
but fleeting, man-made moments of gunpowder and fire,
a beautiful explosion to admire.

There’s a story being told again.
From mouth to ear, from brain to brain.
Reshaped trough listener and teller.
Pieces of the old and pieces of the new shining trough,
the half forgotten made anew.

There’s things to be broken and things to be made,
for each creation a price to be paid,
but no grief for gunpowder, old puzzles or pens,
when there’s fireworks, stories and art.
The old thing found in the new in each part.

peppermintfables: Jiang Cheng from Mo Dao Zu Shi in the outfit of a Knight of Blood from Homestuck (Default)
2025-01-31 11:04 pm
Entry tags:

Update: I'm back (?)

So after nearly a year I have opened this website again! Hi!
I got pretty busy with Uni (I wrote my bachelor thesis!) and work, so I lost track of everything for a bit.
But in a week all my big uni projects will be done, for better or worse, and my next semester will be my chillest so far, with only two lectures left. So I'm hoping to get more active on here again and also finally get the time to work on fandom projects and write more. I wanted to give a general update here to kind of force myself back into it.

Cosplay update: I managed to finish my cosplay of Shachi (One Piece) for ComicCon Stuttgart and had a blast cosplaying him together with my friend, who cosplayed Penguin. Definitely hoping to do more One Piece cosplays, because everyone we met was so nice. But I hope to rework the hat for LBM. MY current project is a post-canon inspired version of Laios from Dungeon Meshi for Dokomi. Dokomi isnt for a while, but I have so many things planned for this, that it's gonna take me forever and I really have to finish it for Dokomi because it's part of a group cosplay. Other than that I'm hoping to finish a Rose Lalonde cosplay for LBM, which is much sooner. I just want a new Homestuck cosplay for the meet up. I love my Sollux cosplay, but I've been doing it for years and my Dirk cosplay keeps falling apart (mostly the glasses). While the Rose cosplay really only needs a shirt, I've been kind of procrastinating it. For some reason I'd rather sew a whole shirt from scratch, than have to paint on one.

Writing update: Writing has been kicking my ass lately. By which I mean I haven't been doing any. While I still have unposted chapters for "Repressing emotions, being ironic.." in the backlog, I want to write some more before I keep posting and despite my detailed outline, it seems not detailed enough. So it's back to the drawing board for me. In other news, I really wanna learn how to write poetry, especially fandom related, and have started brainstorming for that, but... poetry is hard. That's partly why I want to try it, but it is kind of holding me back for now. In positive news, writing my bachelor thesis about Ao3 has renewed my interest in fandom research and meta, so I might write some things in that direction! We'll see.
peppermintfables: Cosplay of Eddie Munson from Stranger Things (cosplay)
2024-05-28 09:03 am

Cosplay: Palamedes and Camilla are moirails and you cant change my mind

Sometimes you jokingly say that you could make best-friend-style moirail necklaces for your fellow cosplayer and yourself and then it stops being a joke.


Selfie of two people cosplaying Palamedes and Camilla from the Locked Tomb. Palamedes has sort brown hair, glasses and is wearinf a grey cloak with a black shirt underneath. Camilla has chinlength brown hair and is wearing a tan shirt. Both of them are wearing a necklace. They are holding the pieces on their necklaces together like a best friend necklace, but instead of a heart it forms a gold diamond symbol, like you would find on a card deck.

Selfie of two people cosplaying Palamedes and Camilla from The Locked Tomb. Palamedes has short brown hair, glasses and is wearing a grey cloak. Camilla has chinlength brown hair and is wearing a tan shirt. They are making a diamond shape with their fingers put togteher, the sign for moirails as seen in homestuck
peppermintfables: Jiang Cheng from Mo Dao Zu Shi in the outfit of a Knight of Blood from Homestuck (Default)
2024-05-25 10:04 pm

Fic: Repressing emotions, being ironic...the family business Act 1 Chapter 2

Titel: Repressing emotions, being ironic... the family business
Fandom: Homestuck
Author: [personal profile] peppermintfables
Rating: T
Length: 4105 words
Characters: Rose Lalonde; Dave Strider
Pairings: Rose Lalonde & Dave Strider
Additional Tags: Supernatural AU, as someone who has only seen the first three seasons, spn typical major character death, Siblings, Found Family, davekat and rosemary in later chapters
Links:
Ao3 Tumblr
Other Chapters:
1

Summary: Dave wants to find his Bro, Rose wants to return to her normal live as a college student. Instead they get involved in some rituals, find themselves and a family and maybe save the world. The last part might pose a problem.

or

Dean Winchester wishes he had what Dave Strider has


“Dave has shown recent attachment to the school the kids are currently at. It’s getting bothersome to hear him complain. Note for the future: draw clearer lines.”



- /home/Folder69/livelaughlove, Bro Strider’s computer files





Your name is Dave Strider and your life is rapidly falling apart. You seem to have lost your brother. You got your sister back, but only for a limited time and with the uncomfortable side effect of her having weird visions from an unknown source. Once you get your brother back you’re gonna have to deal with that and, if he tries to kill Rose, you don’t know what you’ll do.

And the traffic on the way to your motel in Chicago is really bad.



You sit in the car in silence. It’s not very in character for you, you know that. 

Even when you’re on a job on your own car rides are rarely quiet, you‘re to busy singing along to your tapes, testing yourself on any hunter knowledge that you shouldn‘t forget by mumbling to yourself or just straight up thinking out loud. 

With Rose especially you’re not used to it. Its never quiet with the two of you, you never had trouble finding pointless things to say.

You remember hours spend in the backseat of the car making up stories and arguing about music or singing along to whatever was playing while Bro drove. Nights spend in motel rooms, whispering to each other while trying not to wake Bro up.



And yet, after Rose finishes her retelling and you search for the address of the motel she names, neither of you says a word.

Once again you can see your family crumbling apart and you desperately want to find something to say that tapes it back together again, but that didn't work out last time either, did it.

There’s a part of you that wants to give up and let Rose go back to her new home, without you and there’s a part that hopes this awful, awkward car ride never ends. 

There’s a part of you that wants to find Bro as soon as possible, get all of you back together again and a part of you that thinks that if you don’t find him you at least will not have to deal with whatever happens after. 



It takes Rose too long to gather herself and start making fun of your music. The two of you used to  be better at ignoring your problems.




You don’t know what kind of car Bro rented (or stole), when he left the Silverado with you and Rose’ vision didn’t tell you his room number. So there’s no way to break into his room or to know if he’s even still here, without talking to the receptionist. Not that breaking into Bro’s room would ever be a good idea in the first place. Instead you give the receptionist everything you got.



“It’s just so horrible!”, Rose cries out dramatically. 

You know she’s not a fan of this and would rather just threaten the receptionist into giving her the information you want, but you don’t know how long you’re staying in the area yet and this way is less likely to end in someone calling security or the police. Less likely, but not unlikely, because Rose loves drama.



“How could he just not show up? My own father! On my most important day! He’s here, isn't he? Can you call him down? Or give me his room number? I just want to talk to him one last time!”





Rose starts some spiel about how Bro was her father, who had not shown up to her wedding day, despite promising to walk her down the aisle alongside her mother. But, because their parents had some sort of fight, he had fled and ruined his daughters big day. 

You do your best to look like an angry brother, but not to angry to be of concern, while holding back a grin at the panicked look on the overwhelmed receptionists face, as Rose tearfully unloads years of made up family drama on him.



“I know they have their problems. I know and I would never force them back together. But I thought just for this day I could have my whole family again. Is that so much to ask? Am I a bad daughter for asking them to do this?”, she sobs and looks at the receptionist like he surely has all the answers. 



The receptionist is looking at the door like he is considering just fleeing. You lay a supportive hand on her shoulder. When she starts up again you can practically see him give up.



“Ma'am, why don’t I give you the room number and you can see if you can clear this all up? I’m very sorry about your wedding.” He scribbles a number and a description of how to get there on a piece of paper and shoves it in your hands. Rose starts thanking him profusely, while you gently guide her away.



There’s no answer when they knock, which could mean anything really. So you might have to break  in after all.

“You do it”, Rose says, sweeping her hand in a magnanimous ‘Lady’s first’ gesture. “I think you might need the practice after what you did to my window.”

“Thanks, your concern for my breaking and entering skills is real touching. I feel so taken care of.”, you deadpan back and then you get to work.



It takes a bit, because Rose learned her security skills from Bro, but he was of course still better than her. This hotel room is more protected than her entire apartment.

But, after a lot of fumbling and cursing under your breath, the door swings open to reveal the carefully created chaos, that Bro manages to create in every room he stays in for more than a day.

You spend too much time learning the ins and outs of this special organization system, so you could put back anything you needed to borrow from Bro, without him noticing.



The reason nobody answered the door is, because nobody is in the room. 

“Should we just wait for him? His stuff’s still here, so he has to come back.”, you suggest.

Rose grimaces, before she answers: “ To be quiet honest I would prefer to finish with this sooner rather than later. And who knows when he’ll get back, he has never had sensible time management. Let’s just figure out what the job is, so we can look for him.”



With that she starts rooting through Bro’s stuff and using the opportunity to clean up, folding his clothes and putting stuff where it should typically belong instead of where Bro thinks it should go. 

You know for a fact that Rose is not any tidier and constantly leaves her stuff just lying around, a habit she has not grown out of, judging from what you’ve seen of her apartment, but she always did this whenever she had the opportunity. A chance to piss of Bro by destroying his system, under the guise of just wanting to help him. You think Bro thinks it’s funny.



You go start going through stacks of paper, lying next to a chair. Your best bet of finding out what kind of job he’s on is probably his laptop, but there’s no way your getting in there.

The stacks are a mix of research, comic sketches, texts written in Latin and, noticeably, the latest chapter of Rose’s wizard fanfiction, printed out and annotated.

At some point you stop looking and start reading out the chapter and adding your own commentary, while Rose continues the search. Her face is carefully annoyed, but she doesn’t try to hit you over the head with a blunt object or rip the papers out of your hands, so you assume she’s having fun. 



“… okay, not that I don’t appreciate Zazzerpan and every scene he’s in, but it’s real convenient that he shows up right there. Also, what kind of word is ‘assiduous’ anyway.”



“A good one.”, she interrupts you. “Also shut up, I found some directions. It is possible that he went there today, so we might as well take a look.”



“Fair enough, but I’m taking this with us. I’ll need some entertainment on the way.” 

You continue your commentary.




Bro gives a lot of lectures. They’re not really lectures, since they don’t usually include a lot of words, unless he really gets going on a metaphor. 

They’re more singular sentences, that fall somewhere between advice and order and are often paired with a slight downward turn of the edge of his mouth or a thumbs down, to communicate disapproval of your actions. Equally often an ass-kicking follows. Sometimes the lecture includes no words at all and is instead an elaborate test of your abilities.



Part of you wonders if this is also a test. Maybe he’s testing how long you stay cool without losing your shit and looking for him. Or he’s testing if you know to come for back up, when he needs you.

You don’t know which one or what’s the right course of action and it makes you feel uneasy, but you don’t have a better idea, than to keep doing what your already doing.

And there’s a part of your mind that thinks that, if Bro is actually in danger, then coming to help him would surely be worth getting your ass kicked. You ignore that part, along with the uneasiness, because Bro’s to good to get in the sort of trouble he can’t get out of.



One of the lessons Bro keeps repeating is about blending in and staying unnoticed. Alibis, new identities, financial trails. Despite all that, Bro himself is not really subtle. It’s not his fault, he’s simply too cool to stay unnoticed. Also his shades don’t help.



Thanks to that it’s easy to follow his steps, once you picked up his trail, based on the information you and Rose found. Enough people saw him lounging around to give you a direction.

Somehow you still end up going in circles three times, until you decide to look under the bridge you’ve been crossing over each turn. 

You don’t really see the point in it, since you don’t exactly know what Bro would be doing under a bridge, but whatever. You slide down a muddy hill to get to a more hidden part and you start seeing the point.



Bro is lying in the mud under the bridge. His white polo shirt is stained brown everywhere and it would look like he just slipped and decided to not get up again if it wasn’t for Bro’s own sword impaling him through the sternum. If it wasn’t for the fact that the brown was not mud brown and instead the brown of dried blood.



You want to leave. You want to turn around and make this not be your problem. To just let him lie there and reject this from your mind. You’re not stupid enough to follow through on that instinct.

Even if he weren’t your Bro, you’re a hunter and not taking care of a body is asking for trouble. It’d probably be easier, if it wasn’t your Bro. For a very selfish second you think about booking it anyway and letting Rose deal with it on her own. You can’t do that either. You’re her older brother. Her only one now. (Her only one maybe ever)



You look at her and see her squaring her shoulders, before stalking over to Bro. She raises her eyebrows at you and says: “Well, do you want to do the honors?”

She waves her hand at the sword that’s still in Bro. In him. You come closer and raise your hand to pull it out and then let it flop down again. Nope. We are not making that happen. No way. Bro never let either of you touch his sword before and you can’t get yourself to now.

 

Its weird really. The three of you shared everything else, there’s not really another choice when you life in a truck with a family that doesn’t understand the concept of privacy. 

You especially shared weapons and didn’t really get attached to any of them, given that they often had to be discarded or broke because of their shitty quality. Your family went through blades like other people went through 5 dollar headphones. 

But that sword was always Bro’s sword. You just can’t. You won’t.



Rose doesn’t want to touch it either, so she just starts jostling Bro’s body until it falls out by itself.

That should be worse but you can respect it. 

More blood spills out once it’s free and you can’t really understand how there can be any more blood. What kind of bottomless mozzarella sticks bullshit is this. Nope, that’s a bad metaphor, retreat, retreat. 



You cant really bury him here and now. Digging an unauthorized grave in the middle of the day would be noticed and so would dragging a bloody corpse through town. In the end, you end up hiding him more out of sight, with the plan to come back once its dark. 




You find a jewish cemetery a reasonable distance away. At some point it feels almost normal breaking into a cemetery, something that only makes it more uncomfortable, not less.

You work together to dig the grave without having to discuss it much and both of you are aware that you usually do this to dig someone up, not to bury them. Somehow doing it the right way around feels worse. Nothing about this fits right.

It’s not quiet, because words are flowing out of your mouth, but to be honest you don’t even hear what your saying and by the looks of it Rose isn’t listening either. Her face is a mix of blank and furious, if you ignore the rapid blinking of her eyes, as if she's trying not to let the fury slip away.

Bro’s burial is good enough to stop any supernatural bullshit, but otherwise wholly practical, impersonal and unsentimental.




You go back to his room after, gather all his things and then get a motel room at a different place under a different name. Rose dumps anything of Bro’s she doesn’t deem important in a corner of your room and curls up with the rest.

“We still have to figure out what killed him. If it was that dangerous it might take out more people.”, she says.



“Sure. If we’re lucky Bro has already done most of the research for us and it won’t even be that much of the boring part. Best kind of job.”, you say. 

You don’t say that, if this thing was strong enough to kill Bro, the two of you have very little chance against it. Fighting things that are naturally stronger, faster and better than you is what a hunter does. It’s what Bro does. You have no excuse. You get that urge to leave again.



You snatch the jacket you just threw over a chair back up and turn to Rose.

“I’ll go ask around what even brought Bro here, while you go through his notes. Do your boring nerd shit or whatever.”

You slam the door and maybe leave a little faster than would normally be appropriate of a dude as cool as you.




Asking around gets a lot of information and none of it especially useful.

“Oh, are you the partner of that FBI guy? Agent Mathers, the one that asked after Mr. Powell? Did you ask his wife yet? I’m sure you did, you must be very good at your job. And it’s not like I think that she stabbed him! It’s just that I know they had some problems, I could always hear them yelling when I was tending the garden. Not that I was listening, of course. I was still taught manners, unlike whatever Mrs. Fisher two houses down is teaching her young one. He’s constantly prank buzzing here! Can you believe it? But no, I wasn’t listening, they were just always that loud. A disturbance really.”, an older women tells you, followed by every sin anyone in this street has ever committed, including someone leaving up Christmas decorations for too long, which seems to be equal to potentially stabbing your husband.



You convince a group of teens, that you find near the bridge where you found Bro, to tell you what they know and they tell you about more stabbings, which seem mostly unrelated to Mr. Powell. Nobody has any reliable details, but at first glance the victims don’t seem to have much in common.



And there’s no sign of anything supernatural going on either. 

No weird circumstances of death, no impossible break ins or missing body parts or blood. Nobody seeing anything weird or the victims having a feeling of being followed before their deaths.

Just good, old stabbings, some standard human murder. Why was Bro even following this trail?



When you get back Rose doesn’t look any happier either.

“You find anything at all?”, you ask her.



“No.”, she frowns. “Nothing useful in the papers. Didn’t see anything about stabbings either. Anything relevant is probably on the Laptop, but I tried to crack it and didn’t manage.”



“So what now?”



Rose looks contemplative for a moment. 

“I don’t think there's anything useful we can do here, for now. There’s really no point in doing all the work Bro did from the ground up again, when everything we need is most likely on the laptop already. I propose that, if we are not able to access the information ourselves, the next logical step would be to find someone who can help with that.”





There were very few people that Bro respected, but Jake Harley was probably one of them. You knew this because 1. Bro never said anything downright insulting about him and 2. most hunters respected Jake Harley. He was the shining paragon of what every hunter should be.

Cared about hunting more than anything else in his life and the dude knew how to pretty much handle any type of gun, with an absurd amount of knowledge about the supernatural on top of that.

Maybe that’s just the kind of knowledge you get when your in the business that long, but most hunters didn’t get to be that old.



Bro even worked on a few jobs with him and Bro hated working with other people. Even with you, most of the time you were sure that he only let you tag along, because he wasn’t sure you wouldn’t get yourself killed on your own and you’re family. But he worked with Harley voluntarily.



It was on one of these hunts that you and Rose met Jade for the first time. The three of you must have been like 12 years old and Bro and Jake Harley had left you in a relatively safe spot on standby, in case they needed back up, while they went deal with the Mandragora.

The rifle Jade was holding seemed almost taller than her, but she didn’t seem to have any trouble handling it or like she was scared.

You think that’s a perfectly valid reason to develop a bit of a crush on someone.

At some point she had let out a sincere laugh at something you said and nudged you in the side like you had known each other forever and you think that’s an even better reason.



Jake Harley was dead now. It gets even the best ones eventually. But as far as you know Jade’s still active and still as competent as ever, both with her rifle and, more importantly right now, computers. She’s your best shot to crack that laptop.




Bro mostly keeps to himself, since he doesn’t need help often, but there are spots where hunters meet up and Jade visits them quite frequently.

When she sees you and Rose walking through the door a big grin spreads across her face and she sprints towards you, trying to pull both of you into a hug at the same time. It’s awkward but warm, just like her.

“Dave! Rose!! Your both here! Together.”, she says.



“Yes, my retirement was interrupted by a family emergency.”, Rose explains, trying her best to look dignified while still being hugged and failing miserably.



“Oh no! What happened? Is everything alright?”



“Bro’s dead.”, Rose states. You close your eyes behind your shades just for a moment.



“Oh, I’m so sorry, guys.”, Jade says and looks at you specifically. You just about manage not to turn away. How did you get stuck between two girls who seem to think you’re gonna break any minute. You’re fine. 



“There’s nothing to be done about it.”, Rose states brusquely. “But we would like to find out what happened and we could use your help with gaining access to Bro’s laptop.”

Jade immediately smiles at Rose.

“Yeah, of course! To be honest I’ve been kind of curious about Bro’s security anyway! Grandpa always says that he’s a real ‘crackerjack’ at computers and I could use a challenge!”

At least someone is getting something out of this.





You try to make yourself train while Jade is busy. At first you try to keep her company, but it’s not really your kind of thing and Jade gets a bit frustrated when people can’t keep up. 

There’s a few other hunters at this meeting point, but since it’s a bit out of the way, there aren’t that many and they mostly keep to themselves. 

Rose took the opportunity to claim a couch in the corner and go through her uni notes. Makes sense, you guess, it would suck if she went back only to fail all her classes. 

And she probably misses it. 



The smart thing for you to do with this bit of free time would be to train. It’s what Bro would want you to do. It’s what Bro would make you do. 

You can’t bring yourself to, for some reason. So now your sitting on a small wall outside the back of the house, thinking about knife-forms and moves you haven’t quite internalized yet and your body just won’t move.

You’re still stuck like that when Jade comes out and sits down next to you.



“All done! This one was tough. But fun! I didn’t look at anything yet, I thought you and Rose probably want to do that.”



As always your mouth is the first part of your body that reconnects to your brain.

“What you didn’t take the opportunity to look at Bro’s porn folder?”



The rest of you catches up and you wince. Jade, bless her, just smiles at you indulgently. She definitely has to deal with too much of your shit. 



“The obvious one with the ironic kinks or the hidden one with the more sincere ones?.” Rose follows Jade through the door. Gross. You decide in this moment to get a new sister. Sure, you brought up the porn thing first, but everyone knows that you have don’t think before you speak!

Rose is very much thinking and she’s doing it on purpose. Maybe you can trade her in for Jade.



“How the fuck would you even know about Bro’s porn folders? Wasn’t the whole thing here that we don’t know how to get to his files?”

Rose smirks knowingly. It doesn’t explain anything. Ugh.





At some point you do accidentally click on porn. Curse Bro for not properly labeling any of his files. How does he find anything? It’s just tons of weirdly labeled files in unlabeled folders. You have to admire your Bro’s dedication to purposeful chaos. 

Going through the most recent files you find screenshots from newspapers all over the country. Weird weather, people vanishing, the usual things a hunter looks out for. Eventually you find some police reports about stabbings in the town you found him in. 



There’s still nothing unusual about them as far as you can see. All of them got stabbed through the sternum but that doesn’t mean its anything supernatural. Could just be a dude. 

You click through several more files, some of them not even hunting related. One of them is just an anime of the season list. Then you find what your looking for.

At first you think Bro took a screenshot of some poor dudes tinder profile, but then you look at his age.



Jack, Demon, 346(?) years old. Hobbies: Stabbing.

 

You think you found it. Next to you Rose falls over. 

Again.


peppermintfables: Cosplay of Eddie Munson from Stranger Things (cosplay)
2024-05-25 12:52 pm

Cosplay: Palamedes and Harrow's heigth difference

Two cosplayers. One of them is cosplaying Palamedes from The Locked Tomb. He is wearing black clothes and a grey coat and reading a book. He is resting his arm on the head of the other cosplayer, who is cosplaying Harrowhark from The Locked Tomb. She is wearing elaborate black clothes and skull make up and seems pissed of about being used a arm rest.

Sharing some pictures of our Locked Tomb Group last year. Me as Palamedes and a friend of mine as Harrow :)
peppermintfables: Panel from Homestuck showing Dirk Strider as drawn by Calliope (writing)
2024-05-24 09:52 am

Fic: Repressing emotions, being ironic...the family business Act 1 Chapter 1

Titel: Repressing emotions, being ironic... the family business
Fandom: Homestuck
Author: [personal profile] peppermintfables
Rating: T
Length: 2504 words
Characters: Rose Lalonde; Dave Strider
Pairings: Rose Lalonde & Dave Strider
Additional Tags: Supernatural AU, as someone who has only seen the first three seasons, spn typical major character death, Siblings, Found Family, davekat and rosemary in later chapters
Links:
Ao3 Tumblr
Other Chapters:
2

A/N: So despite the fact that I have not seen a lot of SPN and what I've seen was years ago, during the time the finale came out I developed a lot of feelings about a Dean/Dave comparison and following that a Sam/Rose comparison. This is the product of that. I have written 4 chapters plus an intermission so far and posted two, but the whole things has been outlined, so I do plan on finishing it. It's just taking a while.

Summary: Dave wants to find his Bro, Rose wants to return to her normal live as a college student. Instead they get involved in some rituals, find themselves and a family and maybe save the world. The last part might pose a problem.

or

Dean Winchester wishes he had what Dave Strider has


„On recent developments: Dave’s skills in shooting, hand-to-hand combat and knives is improving faster, since he’s actually going doing with the set training regiment without complaining. Despite that Rose still wins against him in a brawl. She just doesn’t hesitate.“
– /home/personal/twins/training_observations_11.odt , Bro Strider’s computer files



Your name is Rose Lalonde and you have the life you always wanted.
You have left the past behind you, started studying psychology at your first choice university, your apartment is small but enough and you have accumulated a small group of friends that you can depend on and that make you laugh occasionally. It’s nice. It’s normal.
If only your subject of study didn’t regularly remind you that the past isn’t left behind that easily.
To the point where sometimes it comes crashing through your living room window in the middle of the night.



You watch Jessica lock her car twice, first when you get out of the car and then again just a few steps later. She turns back as if she isn’t sure whether or not she has already done this and repeats it, just to be sure. She always does this, you note mentally.
Just an innocent habit? Or maybe a prior bad experience? You want to dig deeper, crawl in and find the roots of it, but it’s late and right now you need to go to bed, because there is class tomorrow, so instead you file it away for later and smile at Jessica.

“Thank you for the ride. It is appreciated”

Jessica gives you s slight smile back: “Oh, any time, really. Come on, I’ll bring you to your door.”

That might have been flirting. Or another sign of anxiety. You add it to your file while making inconsequential chatter on your way to the door. You’re still halfway in thought when Jessica says her goodbyes.



You’re no longer in thought when you see the entrance floor of your apartment. You haven’t really gotten around to decorating here – or anywhere else in the apartment.
You’ve been meaning to put up some pictures on the wall, to make it feel more like a home, for a while now. You just haven’t gotten around to it yet.
The relative emptiness of the room makes the small shimmer of light coming though the slit of the slightly open living room door even more noticeable. Your hands go to the stiletto knives hidden in your boots. You hadn’t managed to make yourself get rid of them. After all, you might have wanted to leave that life behind you, but that didn’t make you unaware of what’s out there. Silently you sneak towards the door and open it, knife in each hand, ready to jump.

You see glass splinters scattered on the floor and over most of your furniture. A cold night’s wind blows through the jagged remains of what was once your living room window.
You see your brother standing in the middle of the room, hands in his pockets.

“Sup.”, he says. “Sorry to just barge in like that, but you know how it is. Not that I don’t totally respect your space and shit, hell, I respect it more than an anxious teenage boy leaving room for Jesus during his first dance at prom. Hands all sweaty and he hopes nob-”
You don’t lower your knives and give him a look that clearly conveys ‘Get on with it’. He swallows and, with a lot of practiced calm, he says: “Bro’s on a hunting trip. And he hasn’t been home in a few days.”



You take the tea bag out of your cup while watching Dave crawl around on the ground with a dustpan.
“Surely this could have easily been avoided and my poor window might have been spared.”, you point out, when he gives out an annoyed sigh.

“I was going to! I’m a merciful burglar, I do nothing but spare windows all day long. I looked at your apartment and thought ‘No windows will be harmed in this breaking and entering’. It’s not my fault your window resisted, at that point a man’s gotta do what he’s gotta do and in this case it’s taking a big stone and shattering that window into its tiny, resisting pieces. You have to show the window who’s boss, ya know. Good job in securing it though, maybe account for big stones next time.”

He puts the rest of the glass in the bin and sits across from you. When you gesture slightly, he takes the cup of tea you had readied for him.

“I will remember that. Did at no point in this process occur to you that maybe the reason the window was secured is that I did not want somebody to break into my room or was the need to show the window ‘who’s boss’ simply to great?”

Dave lets out a snort and takes a sip of his tea. He immediately makes a face as if it’s the worst thing he’s ever tasted and then takes another sip.

“What the fuck else was I supposed to do?”

“Have you considered waiting at the door? Or, god forbid, call?”

“Would you have let me in?”

You look down instead of answering. You would have, probably. You can’t imagine turning Dave away, especially now. But, with how the two of you split, you can understand why he would assume otherwise and you can’t bring yourself to correct him.
It might give him hope that things are gonna be like before you left hunting behind and they can’t be.

“I presume you want me to abandon my studies and help you find Bro then?”, you ask instead.

Dave gives you a look, like he noticed your change of topic, before he answers. You’re usually better at getting away with things like this.

“Well, yeah. It sounds kinda shitty, when you say it like that. But I… he didn’t say where he was going and, if whatever he found actually got him, I might need some back up. Not that that’s likely, Bro’s made of harder stuff. He probably just forgot to check back in, you know how he is.”

You do know. And you know how Dave is, too. You can hear the over-the-top confidence in his voice that betrays his anxiety. You know that Bro would not want him to be here and here he is anyway.

“Ill come. I’ll be able to catch up on most of my classes as long as I’m back in time for my exams. And I will be back for my exams.”
You leave him no room for argument. He gives you a small smile, as if the look you’re giving him right now hasn’t made several of your professors shit their pants.

“ No shit. I wouldn’t and couldn’t stop you from being a giant fucking nerd.”
“Then let us bounce.”



Your first stop is one of Bro’s contacts, a seer. Since Bro had left no hint of his current whereabouts or the job he had taken behind, Dave had thought that this might be the way to get a lead. Now you are walking into maybe the most tacky occult shop you have ever seen.
Listen, you get committing to an aesthetic for a bit but maybe that aesthetic should include less knock-off dream catchers. Have a bit of integrity.

The seer is expecting you and you don’t know if Dave called ahead or if she’s simply good at her job. She must be, otherwise Bro wouldn’t have bothered with her. You bet he liked the dream catchers.

She gives you a blinding smile and says in a calming voice: “Hello, hello, sit.” She gestures to two seats heaped over with colorful pillows in front of the table she’s sitting behind.

“My name is Cassia and I am so overjoyed to be your spiritual guide today and this meeting is surely bound to be fortuitous.”

When Dave and you give her identical deadpan stares, she flips her long hair and the smile turns into a smirk. You are 90% sure that Cassia is not her actual name.

“My, my, you both really take after Bro, don’t you? Always right down to business.”

Dave flinches the slightest bit and you think she notices. She really is good then.

“That would be sensible. We really don’t know if this is time-sensitive or how far we might need to travel. Expedience would be appreciated.”, you start, when it doesn’t seem like Dave is gonna take the lead.

She starts rummaging around her drawers and pulls out an assortment of crystals and symbols embroidered into cloth without giving either of you much attention anymore.
Not the right move either because you can practically feel Dave starting to vibrate next to you, thanks to the silence, before it bursts out of him: “Where do you get your info from anyway? Has to have a source, doesn’t it? Do you trade something for it or is it like a present, like does Santa show up and hand you a convenient little package full of other peoples issues. ‘Merry Christmas, this dude is cheating on his wife, Uncle Jason has gotten into some drama again and this is the place where the lost family member of these to fucked off to. Please use at your discretion.’”
Dave’s eyebrows are furrowed in clear suspicion. Your family possesses remarkable eyebrow skills.

Cassia looks at him as if he’s a cat that has just thrown up on your bed while you were trying to carry it away as fast as possible.

“Some of us are just blessed with more insight than others.”, she says in a measured tone.

“And if your question is whether or not this means a hunter like you needs to kill me, might I remind you that I have worked with your guardian, who is undoubtedly a hunter through and through, for quite some time and he has not seen the need to do so?”

Dave’s look doesn’t change, but, when he doesn’t say anything else, she continues: “Shall we begin then?”

From an ornate box that has been decorated with paintings of clouds, she takes out a stack of cards and starts shuffling them.
She handles them with ease and it’s quite mesmerizing to watch, cards flying through the air while still never seeming to leave her hands, faster than you can quite follow with your eyes, even though you try.
Then, out of nowhere, her hands seem to catch on something invisible, breaking her rhythm, and a card falls from the deck and lands on the table.
You see the image of the High Priestess before everything turns black.



Or not black. It is more...nothing. And then, all at once,the nothing becomes everything and it feels like too much and you want to scream except you are also everything, so everything screams. Suddenly the everything unravels, pieces falling off like petals, and it zeros in until you’re left with a scene of a man in a motel.

You have never seen the old-fashioned furnishing before and yet it feels incredibly familiar. It takes you a moment to become you again and you recognize the man as Bro. Glasses, hat, popped collar and seemingly unharmed.

You’d nearly forgotten how long it has been since you last saw him and you get the sudden urge to get out of here, to leave and go back to your studies. At the same time you have the bone-deep realization how satisfying it would be to just snap these fucking glasses into pieces.

He’s checking in and the man behind the front desk is giving him a key. This must already have happened a while ago. You mentally jot down the name, Bonnybridge Inn. You feel something like approval at the back of your head and then this last piece of everything falls away as well.



This seems to not have been part of the plan because Cassia seems both shocked and very determined to get rid of you when you wake up. With a last look to Dave and a murmured “You should be more concerned about that than the sources of my visions.” she practically shoves both of you out of her door.

“She didn’t even tell us anything.”, Dave says confused. “What the fuck just happened?”

You think of ‘Bonnybridge Inn’. You think of the overwhelming sensation of more than you could ever handle.
You think of the presence in the back of your head and the satisfaction you felt at the image of snapping Bro’s shades in half.
“Get in the car. I’ll fill you in on the way.”, you say out loud.



Bro had left the Chevrolet Silverado with Dave before going on this hunt. It had surprised you that Bro would leave his semi-ironic pick-up truck behind but apparently this had been established as a thing whenever Dave and Bro split up to go on separate hunts since you left.
One could mistake it for sentimentality. You’re sure that Dave does.

After a quick google search you find your destination to be Chicago, at least 2 days travel from where the two of you are right now.

Dave rummages through his pile of cassette tapes and puts something on that not only have you never heard of, your barely sure its a genre and it’s definitely not old enough to have actually been released on a cassette tape.
You look at the cassette case that reads ‘Meaty Fist Glassward’ and for a moment you consider making a comment about how this band has been gaining some traction, just to see if you can piss him off, but his face is blank in a way that reminds you of nothing good.

“So you could get started with the filling in now.”, he says, voice perfectly calm.

Part of you feels protective of the vision in some way, but the bigger part wants to make him see what you have seen, so you tell him the whole thing.

“We shouldn't trust that shit! Why did you get the vision, not the actual seer?”

“Well I hardly think we have another choice and it’d be foolish not to follow this up. And maybe I’m just better than her at her job.”, you say with a tone that may be slightly too smug.

Dave shoots you a look, except you can’t see his eyes and he doesn’t turn his face from the road so it ends up more like a disapproving grimace.

“Shouldn’t you be more unhappy? You were the one that wanted a ‘normal’ life and now you’re getting weird visions from some weird all-powerful hentai tentacle-monster.”

“There were no tentacles involved.”

“And I bet you’re real sad about that.”

He’s correct of course. About how you should be a lot madder at the situation. This is something that doesn’t fit in your plan and you hate it when things don’t fit in your plan.
But something about it feels so right.
peppermintfables: Panel from Homestuck showing Dirk Strider as drawn by Calliope (writing)
2024-05-22 06:20 pm

Writing: First Steps

Titel: First Steps
Fandom: Original/ First Lesson TTRPG
Author: [personal profile] peppermintfables
Rating: G
Length: 580 words
Characters: Original Character
Additional Tags: Solo RPG, Selkies
Links:
AO3

A/N: This was written using the Solo journaling RPG First Lesson by jeeyonshim on itch.io. It's part of the Solitaire Collection an well worth checking out!

Summary:You never thought you would be the one to leave


I: On the Shore, At night





The sea used to be your lover and garden, your hearth and home; no longer, not for a long time




It was a cumulation of things. Even if you love your home at some point everyone feels the desire to leave. To see new things. Look beyond that horizon of earth and stone and sand under the sun. The knowledge that you could leave is always there, for an selkie. Very few actually leave and of those even fewer come back in the end. Their stories are used to warn you, to help you resist whatever pulls you out of the ocean. Most of them are about love that betrays you. You don’t think you would ever leave for love. How is getting stuck on the ground with someone you love any better than being stuck in the ocean with those you love there. Who could ever make you choose that?

But when the time for a decision comes, when you see the child on the shore, freezing in the cold, that’s not really what matters. What matters is this: The child is suffering. What matters is: You want to leave. Together that’s enough to tip the scales.




Standing before it now, feeling the damp crumble of the sea beneath your feet, something inside you keens with terrible longing


Your coat hangs around you and the child is staring at you and you ignore the foreign heaviness in your bones to pick up the child and wrap the both of you in the coat together. Everything is pushing you down, your movements both unbearably slow and fighting against something that’s not there anymore and you adjust your stance. It feels good to stand, like for the first time you get to decide on a direction. Like for the first time you’ve already decided. You turn your back to the sea that has carried you all your life and start walking.




In your hands you cradle something


You can feel your skin under your fingers, where you are gripping it tight around the both of you. You’re not sure if that’s what’s keeping you warm or the way you and the child are pressed together. It doesn’t feel like you should be able to warm anyone. You are both so cold. But what use is it to differentiate between yourself and your skin anyway.




It’s time. You have to release it.




You don’t go back to the beach for years. You feel the longing for the familiar waves as you were always told you would and you’re afraid of it. Instead you built. A house, a garden, a family. You learn to walk and talk and sing. It’s just you and your child, that you’re raising, in your house at the outskirts of town but it’s enough to make you stay. It’s the kind of love that made you wonder how you could ever doubt how much this would matter.

You don’t go back to the beach for years but you do go back. Some part of you will always belong to the sea. You look at the coat in your hands, the part that warmed you and your family in that first night and in many after that. Your way back to the soft embrace of the sweeping waters. The first decision you ever made, A decision you’re still making . You throw your skin into the sea. Let it have that part of you.


peppermintfables: Cosplay of Eddie Munson from Stranger Things (cosplay)
2024-05-07 01:13 pm

Cosplay: Sollux Captor

I also wanted to share some of my cosplays on here, so have this Sollux meme from 4 years ago (??? time is so fake)

Sollux Captor cosplayer imitating the "is this a pigeon" meme with text but instead of the butterfly from the meme there is text reading "making a program with the potential to kill your and all your friends lusii just to see if you can". At the bottom it reads "Is this a good idea?"
peppermintfables: Panel from Homestuck showing Dirk Strider as drawn by Calliope (writing)
2024-05-06 07:35 pm

Fic: Life of Choices

Titel: Life of Choices
Fandom: Black Sails
Author: [personal profile] peppermintfables
Rating: G
Length: 3136 words
Characters: Jack Rackham; Anne Bonny; Charles Vane; Max
Pairings: Jack Rackham & Anne Bonny; Charles Vane/Jack Rackham; Anne Bonny/Max
Additional Tags: Witcher AU; Witcher Anne; Bard Jack; Witcher Charles; the anne/max is very minor; inaccurate witcher lore
Links:
Ao3

A/N: I’m going to start posting my old works here as well, starting with this :)

Summary:
Life on the road with a witcher isn't easy
or
Jack tries not to be in the way and continuously fails, Anne and Max are competent as usual and Vane just... kind of appears sometimes?

Anne sometimes said that he had saved her from getting stoned by villagers. Jack would insist every time that he had saved the villagers from getting slit open by her. He had been young then, much younger than now at least. She had been too, just at the start of her Path, but, unlike his, her face didn’t show the years that had passed since then.

He had just come across the village, surrounded only by forest and fields, when the noise alerted him to the tumult happening in front of the house of the alderman. Over the years he had often been accused of a tendency to stick his nose where it didn’t belong and while that may be true, he’d argue that in this particular case it worked out for him. In the long run at least.
Because there she stood, two swords clenched in her hands, blood-red hair and a grimace on her face clearly saying that she wouldn’t hold back much longer. Around her villagers were throwing insults and stones. He still didn’t know what exactly had moved him to stand between them and her but it was a position that he would find himself in so often in the following years that by now it was familiar.
So there he had been and he had talked as fast as he could, trying to calm the masses and apparently they were a lot more hesitant to throw stones at a puny looking bard than a terrifying lady with cat eyes and knives but still not willing to tolerate them any longer near there homes and they found themselves on a path near the forest.

“You didn’t need to do that.”

“No.”, he grinned. “I didn't.”



Somehow he just never stopped following Anne. Or maybe she was following him. He could never quite tell. They traveled from town to town, Anne looking for coin, Jack looking for glory. She would take whatever contracts they came across, fighting Drowners and Griffins, Kikimore and curses and he would compose songs about her deeds, singing in taverns in the evenings and patching Anne up to the best of his abilities.

“Why do you keep doing this”; she asked him one evening, while he was rooting through her bag of potions, trying to find the right one. “People like your songs. Why not just write some love songs or whatever the fuck other bards do? Enjoy the comforts of a city instead of ruining your fancy clothes trying not to get killed out here.”

“What’s the point?”, answered Jack, without hesitating. “Writing stories without ever being part of one yourself. Rotting behind walls, writing songs that will be forgotten. That's not what destiny is made of.”

Anne hummed in that way that clearly meant that she did not understand but was willing to accept it as one of his weird hangups. Maybe witchers didn’t care about legacy, if they didn’t have to living so much longer than regular humans. Maybe it was just Anne’s general disregard for sentimentality. But she had asked. She cared enough to ask and for them that was enough.



Max was terrifying and powerful in a very different way than Anne and Jack had not yet decided if he liked it. Right now the signs pointed to no.

“Can’t you just… magic it?”

The look Max shot him could have come from a basilisk. “ I could but if you had actually listened you’d remember that the beast has some way of sensing the use of magic and I’d rather avoid alerting it and getting eaten as soon as we get through the door.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure it also has a way of sensing sound, like, just throwing this out there, hearing it, so all this banging might not be helping. And why do we even have a sorceress with us if your magic is useless.”

“First of all I’m here to verify that it’s actually dead when your done with it, not do your job for you and secon-”

“Could the two of you-” Anne interrupted them, glaring from where she was trying to pry open the huge iron door on her own. “shut up and actually help me.”

The beast did in fact attack them as soon as they where through the door.



Back at the estate, where Max had promised them food and a bed, Anne excused herself to sleep of the lingering effects of her potions, leaving Jack and Max alone, both trying valiantly to ignore the other while eating their meal.

“You know, it took great sacrifice for me to be here. To get to be here.”, Max broke the silence without looking at him. “I used to think there would be no chance for me to get a life like this, to live in a place like this, for my opinion to be as respected as it is now. And when I entered the academy...I often asked myself whether it be worth it. There’s no easy way to become a sorceress. You could have had this easily as bard. Why choose to give something up that others have to fight so hard for?”

“And what an opportunity it is. I'm sure you're not yet tired of patronizing nobles, but as much as I love a good intrigue I'm not sure Id fight to get to deal with court bullshit. My chances are not in here. My chances are out there. And I fought to get to be there just as you fought to get to be in here.”



It was a relatively normal evening for them both when Jack first met Charles Vane. Anne was curled up at a table in a corner of the inn they were in, sipping her ale and seemingly trying to blend out the people around her.
Jack was on an improvised stage that was really just a freed space where the tables and chairs had been pushed to the side, singing a song about Anne’s battle with a Bruxa. In front of him some people were nodding along but most of them where either too drunk or had no regard for art when it was played right in front of them and were just ignoring him, which is why he noticed when the door opened and an armored man stepped in.
The armor alone would have been enough to make him stand out in a poor town like this one but he had the same cat eyes as Anne, the same predatory grace and the same silver medallion swinging around his neck.

Jack looked to Anne’s corner, saw her uncurl and shoot a wary look at the other witcher, before slightly turning to him and signaling him to keep playing. So Jack threw himself into the performance to distract the audience from the two witchers in their midst, a circumstance most wouldn't be happy with, and when he was finished Anne was alone in her corner again, like nothing had happened. When he later asks her, she only says that he had a job for them and they'd leave in the morning but the sight smile on her lips speaks of trust.
Apparently people have been going missing in broad daylight on an important trait route and someone, Alanus Sten or something similar, was both rich and invested enough to hire not one but two witchers… and Jack by association. So here they were, the three of them, walking along idyllic looking fields on their way to kill something. It didn't look like a place that could kill you. Jack could respect that. Looking dangerous was a way to avoid conflict, looking trustworthy was the way to lure people in.

Case in point the other witcher, Vane, was definitely the dangerous looking sort but despite Jacks constant chattering he yet had to do anything worse than shoot him a look that was a mix of annoyed and amused every now and then. For Jack, used to similar treatment from Anne, this was all the encouragement he needed.

“So how many of you guys are there actually? We’ve never actually run into another witcher before but maybe you’re just very good at avoiding each other.”

“Don't you ever shut up?”



“Any idea what we’re dealing with here? Usually the monsters Anne fights are more the hide-in-the-night type. What kind of monster kills in broad daylight?”

“One that’s either very desperate or very good. Nothing two witchers couldn't deal with.”



“So did you train with Anne? The medallion means you’re from the same school, right?”
That one got him a smirk.

Jack was in the middle of being absolutely delighted by Vane recounting a tale from Anne’s training days while Anne was shooting him annoyed looks, when they saw the girl, dancing in a swaying dress in the middle of the fields.

“Noonwraith”, Vane growled, looking at Anne. And then, turning to Jack: “Stay here.”

Jack was used to this. Anne was good at her job, fearsome and capable. He had little problem leaving this in her hands, he himself having more a gift for eloquent cruelty than Anne’s down-to-earth brutality. So Jack stayed were he was supposed to, hoping that this might be a fight actually worth singing about. But suddenly he heard a song coming from behind him and when he turned there was the girl again. Her clothes were tattered and she seemed...somehow hollow but she danced like it didn't matter and she was calling to him. Not with sound but he knew, felt himself moving towards her. Maybe she needed help. He should be there. He should dance with her. He was close, so close, when he felt a rough hand close around his wrist and yank him back. He landed against a hard chest while Anne ran past him, her silver sword in her hand.

Only now, from up close and with a clear head, Jack could see the rotten flesh if the girl, empty eye sockets and a long tongue hanging out of her mouth. She let out a screech as Anne traced a symbol in the air and then took the final steps towards her, slashing the ghost girl with her blade across the chest. There was no blood when the girl… the monster stumbled back, trying to get some distance between itself and Anne. And vanished into a cloud of smoke only to reappear behind her. But Anne was faster, turned around in one fluid motion and kept going at it with her sword, the silver shining blindingly in the midday sun. The monster tried to get in one last scratch before it was to much and it dissipated into smoke, this time not turning up again.

“Is it… gone for good?” Jack asked, unsure and shaking off the hand Vane still had around his wrist.

“Not until we found her body”, Anne grunted, giving him a once over and evidently coming to the conclusion that he was unharmed before turning around and starting to walk to do just that. “Next time do what your told and stay.”

“Hey now! I really was trying this time, you know how much I tr-”

“Save your breath.”, Vane interrupted him. “She really can’t give you shit for this. No reason for you to be resistant to what killed all the missing people. Noonwraiths lure people in, its just how they work.” And then to Anne: “ If you don't want your human to get damaged, take better care of him.” Anne started walking twice as fast, nearly leaving them behind, an impressive feat considering she was significantly shorter then the two of them. Honestly, saving his life was well and good but making Anne mad? That would not do at all.

They found the body eventually, just a skeleton and some clothes left. Vane kneed next to her, searching through the fabric and eventually pulled out a letter in surprisingly good condition. Jack snatches it out oh his hand before he can think better of it. It’s a love letter, full of compliments and promises and tenderness, signed A. Sten. They burnt it with the rest of the body.



When they met again Max was still as powerful and elegant as ever and it’s easy to see how taken Anne is with her, if you know Anne. Jack knows Anne.
He had heard that witchers and sorcerers don’t tend to get along, maybe because of fundamentally different world views or maybe just because there are risks when you can get that old and constantly have to deal with each other.
But whatever it was it didn’t seem to apply to Max and Anne, who looked at each other with an understanding and tenderness that made Jack simultaneously unbearably happy for Anne and send a wave of longing and confusion through him. And for the first time since that tiny village at the beginning of their journey he and Anne went separate ways. It didn’t know what that means for them and quite honestly he didn't want to think about it either.

He...well he didn’t actually know what Anne and Max get up to while he’s gone. Something about networks and curses and Kaer Morhen. He, on the other hand, made his way to Oxenfurt, city of stories and their tellers, bright and loud, the embodiment of everything Anne tries to avoid. He stood in front of the biggest crowds he ever performed for and sang his heart out and when the applause washed over him his eyes automatically started searching for Anne before he remembered. It’s a new kind of feeling, to stand before people adoring him and still feel so alone. But he’s one step closer to legend and for that had to be enough. It had to be worth it.



The road he was walking on was improvised and uncomfortable, already having left Oxenfurt far behind, when he saw two glints in he distance, so similar to the way Anne’s swords would reflect the sun that he immediately started going faster and faster until he was running. But while it was two swords and the person carrying them was familiar, they were a bit to tall to be Anne, their hair a bit to dark. Jack hadn’t seen Vane since the noonwraith incident but here he was. Still, Jack was rarely one to say no to company and once he caught up to him Vane still seemed to tolerate him so they made their way to their next stop together.

One stop turned into two turned into three and at some point traveling together went from novelty to comfortable habit. Jack found out that Vane, no – Charles, had about as much idea where Anne was by now as Jack had (“How the fuck would that be my business”) but knew Max for some reason (“Smart, that one. Not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing but credit where credit’s due”). When Jack started needling for more he just got a grunt and a fond look and the conversation ended. And so they continued traveling and while Vane was, naturally, different from Anne, most of the problems they encountered were ones Jack was already used to. People refusing to pay, inaccurate monster descriptions leading to injuries, that Jack did his best to help patch up and the general animosity towards witchers driving them quickly from town to town.

“Why choose a life like this? You should know by now that it’s not easy.”, Charles asked him once, while Jack was tending to his own scrapes he had gotten from tripping over a root trying to avoid a giant claw.

“Everything that matters is part of this life. Everyone that matters at least.”

“Fair enough.”

The progression of their relationship felt natural in the end and they didn’t really talk about it. Jack sometimes feelt like he should try, somehow find the right words and make sense of it, but maybe he was scared to or maybe it just didn’t matter because he never brings it up. It was what it was. It was waking up together in the morning, tangled up in each other and unwilling to face the morning cold and the open road so soon, it was lingering hugs and eyes on him while he performed and casual kisses, it was patching each other up and punching assholes in the face for each other. That’s all it needed to be.

But the world was shifting constantly, even if the nearly immortal beings around him liked to forget, and, while it didn't end, this too shifts. Because Jack had gotten his priorities in order a long time ago.
They met Max again and for a moment Jack wondered whether they were supposed to hide this thing between them but Charles only cared about appearances when not doing so could actively endanger him and that didn’t seem to be the case here. So all of them gathered around the campfire, Jack’s hand on Charles’ thigh for no other reason than that he wanted to, while Max and Charles eyed each other with poorly concealed apprehension.

“Anne is up north, making her way to Kaer Morhen. If you’re fast you might still catch her.”, Max said before Jack can even ask. “We split up a while back, there’s tumult going on in Temeria and I need to get it under control and she…well she needed to go somewhere were she could be helpful. Where she could be herself. Vizima is not that place.”

Jack stared into the fire before meeting her eyes. “Should I even go after her? She doesn’t need me anymore.”

“Don’t be stupid”, she scoffed. “You have always encouraged her to be herself at all cost. She misses you and you don't need me or her to tell you that.”

The next morning the three of them took of in different directions. Max continued her way to Vizima, saying goodbye with a short hug for Jack and some whispered advice to Charles. Charles pulled Jack into a hug as well, though this one lasts longer.

“How long till we meet again?”, Jack asked, trying to hide the emotion in his voice and not quite managing.

Charles smiled fondly: “ Knowing you, I’ll hear about whatever trouble you’ll get yourself into soon enough. Shouldn’t make it hard to find you.”

He gave a quiet laugh at the insulted face Jack made and a last pat on Jack’s shoulder and started making his way towards a city where rumors spoke about a contract regarding a chimera.

When he was out of sight Jack started walking in the direction of Kaer Morhen, alone again. But at the end there were stories waiting for him and chances and Anne. So it was worth it.