#If only Cube could play Enter the Dragon

[geosabor]

Dominion of Hate Page 39

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[motherofdogs1010]

Of Messiahs and Seeds III (Dark!Paul Atreides x Reader)

Summary: The game has begun of one monarch against another, and with the fate of the colonies at play and winter fast approaching, Y/N is forced to think of hard decisions to make just to keep her people safe.

Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW dark!fic, obsessed Paul, yandere! Paul, eventual forced marriage, eventual pregnancy, talks of war, eventual NONCON/DUB CON

Dividers @firefly-graphics Banner @vase-of-lilies

Part I Part II

The Apollo Colony was the first to lose contact and it felt like the beginning of a long game; one where Y/N knew her rule was soon to be tested.

And the dreams had only gotten worse and more frequent; Y/N found that practically any time she closed her eyes, Paul was there to whisper in her ear and it was beginning to be difficult to figure out what was reality.

Y/N looked at the heirloom crystal in her hand as she sat on her balcony; she wondered how her mother would be handling this right now.

The moon hung bright and full as always with her scaly children sleeping below as she stood up, her nightgown clinging to her body as she saw the city around her with the people happily bustling around for the night life.

She sighed as she walked into her bedroom, winter was coming in a few weeks and the winters were always harsh on Terra M above the equator. It looked like a tundra when the winters arrived and felt like the inside of a ice cube, which prompted so many resources to keep everyone afloat.

Paul felt pleased with himself as he sat in his room, the hologram of his future bride in front of him. He had invaded her dreams, filling them with their promised future that he had seen; he could practically feel her hair through his fingers, and hear the newborn cries of their son as he came into the world.

It was all falling into plan, Terra M was about to go into its harsh winters and be left vulnerable if he was correct. They heavily relied on their built-up resources to make it through the three-month-long brutal winter since the population lived above an equator.

Those dragons of his beloved would go into hibernation underground; that would leave one defense gone and away. He wouldn't dare to hurt them, they were an extension of his love and he knew how she cared for the scaled beasts.

"Paul", his mother said as she entered the room.

Her blue eyes bore into his as she said, "It's been taken care of, Irulan will no longer sand in your way."

Yes, everything was falling into place.

There was just one final thing left to do...

The smell of ash made its way into her nose as she felt the harsh winter air against her skin, she breathed out and saw her icy breath as she exhaled. Her skin prickled from the cold as she looked around, seeing the white, virgin piles of snow around her as she tried to get her bearings.

"Hello, my love."

Quickly turning around, Y/N saw him, saw Paul standing there with his cheeks and nose pink from the cold.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, "Terra has done nothing to the Empire."

"It isn't what Terra has done, but rather what you have done, my Queen."

Paul slowly began to circle her, the crunching of snow under his weight as he did. Snowflakes fell at a soft, slow pace as he spoke, "You have overtaken my mind, left me vulnerable to feelings that I thought I was immune to feeling again."

"That is not my fault", she argued.

"Oh, but it is", Paul smirked, "your very existence is your fault and that is something that your people will pay for."

Jolting awake, Y/N found herself alone once more as she scooted up the bed and pushed her hair back. She tried to steady her breathing as she felt as if it she looked out into the darkness, she would be able to see the glimmer of him smirking.

🌎

"We must devise a plan", Sir Lance argued, "they have taken the Apollo Colony. The only logical choice for them to grab next is the Athenian Colony and we must devise a plan of attack."

The Council meeting was buzzing with ideas, and arguments of what to do as Y/N listened to the proposed ideas. It was true, she needed to confront the Empire and its might but it has to be logical, fool-proof.

"Lord York", she finally said, the man looking at her. "Get as much information on the Great Houses and the Empire's armies. There will be a weak spot."

"And once we have the weak spot, your grace?"

"We rip them out like a weed, one by one."

TAGLIST

@ninastyless @james-bucky-barnackle @astarborntowrite @maggiecc @radiantdanvers @croatianprincess @deluxeplanteater @szapizzapanda @khaleesihavilliard @deathsimp @frickyea-guacamole19

[severinapina]

“About you and the arcades” — ONE SHOT

Another day, another dollar. Who cares? They're all the same. Breakfast, training, lunch, training, dinner, training, and bed.

“And don't even think about staying up reading manga, okay?” said his mom every night.

“And don’t even think about bla bla bla” mimicked an adult Satoru, remembering those times.

He hated them. Sure, his strict upbringing had made him who he was, but they were still bad memories. Formative years, they say. Every time he bought a Shonen Jump, his mind went to the pre-bedtime scolding or, worse, to the time his mom found his stash and burned them.

“And I had the whole first arc of Dragon Ball, for fuck’s sake” he said, dumping six sugar cubes into his tea.

“What about Dragon Ball? My husband was Vegeta” said Shoko, just entering the kitchen.

“That's like the hundredth time you've said that.”

“Wow, someone's in a bad mood. What's up? Did Megumi get suspended again for hitting his classmates?”

Gojo slumped into a chair with a sigh. Yep, Shoko was right. He was in a bad mood. Megumi had indeed hit his classmates, and he’d have to deal with the principal (an activity he despised), but more than anything, it was the day that bothered him. A beautiful spring morning, ready for the first cherry blossoms. Only he could be annoyed by such a scene. But it made sense. A lot of sense.

On a day like that, he met him.

*

He'd been feeling bored for weeks, no, months. The lessons were dizzying, the training exhausting, and nothing amused him anymore. Wandering endlessly through the forest surrounding the Gojo clan estate wasn't exactly thrilling either, at least not since he turned fourteen. He was anxious. Next year, he would start his studies at the Tokyo Metropolitan Curse Technical College, which meant not only perfecting his skills but also something he'd been denied his whole short life: meeting people his age. It wasn't far off, really. Nevertheless, Satoru couldn't wait. So, it only took a small slip-up with his mother to bolt.

It was the third time he'd run away from home. The first time, at six, he'd decided to play snail hunting in the forest, an activity he kept up until, at dusk, one of his hysterical guards dragged him back. The second time, at ten, he took the train to Tokyo. He wandered aimlessly, attentively observing the eccentric passersby, listening to the loud noises, and smelling the various food aromas only a big city like that could offer. Until he realized, disappointed, that he still drew the attention of minor sorcerers. And there were plenty. He returned home before they noticed he was gone, convinced that perhaps no one would ever understand what it felt like to be a freak.

But this time would be different. He knew exactly where to go. And not only that, but he'd discovered how to mask his cursed energy for a short time. That, plus a good cap, guaranteed him a few hours of forgetting his boring, routine life Gojo clan.

“Fuck the sorcerers” he muttered with a giggle as he boarded the train.

Upon arriving at his destination station, he ran up excited. He knew exactly where he wanted to go: the arcade with games from the late '80s and early '90s and, specifically, one game: Street Fighter.

He didn't expect a guy dressed in karate gear with a meter-wide back to be using it.

But Satoru wasn't one to give up. He knew he couldn't keep his disguise and low energy for long, so he had to make the most of it.

He approached the guy and patted him on the back.

“What do you want? I told you I'd help...” he said, turning around. “Oh, sorry. Thought you were someone else.”

Satoru, seeing him, could only think one thing: "bangs." He was facing a boy around his age, with violet eyes and dark, shiny hair, highlighted by a suspiciously untamed tuft.

He stared at him, mouth open. Not only did he have an intimidating demeanor, but he also emitted cursed energy. And strong energy at that.

“Well? Can I help you with something?”, the boy asked when Satoru didn't respond.

Gojo snapped back to reality.

“I want to use that machine”, he said, standing tall and speaking authoritatively. He'd grown a lot that year, probably about ten centimeters. He had to use that to his advantage.

“Good for you, but I'm using it. Feel free to wait over there”, he pointed to the door.

Confused, Satoru quickly glanced outside and then back at the boy. "What a rude jerk," he thought. Gojo wasn't used to being told no. And, although he hated himself for it and it contradicted his plans for the day, he played the clan card. After all, the boy with the ridiculous tuft was a sorcerer.

He removed his cap and glasses, locking his blue eyes on him.

“Do you even know who I am?”

The boy looked him up and down.

“An idol? Sorry, not into that stuff”, he said, turning back around.

Flabbergasted, Satoru stepped in front of him.

“I'm Gojo Satoru”, he said, indicating his eyes.

The boy, now annoyed, pushed him aside.

“What a rude introduction. Move, please.”

Satoru, even more perplexed, significantly increased the levels of cursed energy he was emitting. This caught the boy's attention. He widened his eyes and, after a few seconds, said:

“You have...that?”

“Yep. Told you I'm Gojo Satoru.”

“Your name still doesn't ring a bell, but”, he stood up and offered his hand. “...I'm Geto Suguru.”

Suguru had spent years unsure of what to make of his strange gift. He saw people and entities where there were none, heard horrible whispers in the dark, and smelled scents that would scare the vilest pirate. He'd intuitively learned to swallow curses, but he knew very little. He didn't even call it energy. To him, it was just "that." The only person he'd met with the same ability was the teacher from the Curse College who had come to recruit him. But he hadn't really explained anything. It would all come later, he'd said. So, meeting a boy his age with the same thing for the first time was incredibly intriguing.

He observed Satoru for a long time. He didn't want to forget his face.

“Are you gonna let me play or not?”, Gojo asked impatiently. He didn't want to be rude, but no one changes overnight.

“Wow, no manners," thought Suguru as he stared at Satoru, puzzled. Normally, if someone treated him like that, Suguru would either ignore them or tell them off. However, something told him it wasn't time to part ways with this strange albino and his frog-like eyes just yet. He felt their cursed energy made them, on a peculiarly intimate level, comrades.

After a few seconds, he said:

“There's another arcade two stations away with two Street Fighters. Want to go?”

“Why would I need two?”, Satoru asked, raising his eyebrows.

Suguru blushed.

“So we can both play.”

"Idiot," he added to himself.

Gojo stared at him for a moment, blinking as if he were being drenched by a thousand raindrops. This was new for him. Not only had he met a sorcerer who didn't know him, but one his age who was polite enough to invite him to play.

He stood up and walked to the door. Suguru looked at him questioningly, and Satoru turned his head.

“Aren't you gonna lead the way?”

Suguru nodded and hurried. They walked to the metro together in silence, but contrary to what one might expect from such a situation, they both felt strangely comfortable. As if they'd known each other forever.

*

At the next arcade, Gojo noticed he wasn't feeling so great anymore. He checked the time. He didn't have much freedom left. He had about fifty minutes before he’d collapse from the effort of hiding his energy. Plus, it was nearly time for his boring History of Clans and General Sorcery class.

“Ugh, school sucks”, he said, not realizing he’d spoken out loud.

Suguru pointed with a smile at the two Street Fighter machines. They were empty, almost waiting for them.

As they sat down, he said:

“School's not so bad if you focus on your studies and join a club. Which school do you go to?”

Gojo eyed him from under his glasses. Of course, this martial arts student had to be a star pupil. "The shoujo manga class rep stereotype," he thought, continuing to scrutinize him.

Taking his seat, he replied:

“I’m homeschooled.”

Now it was Suguru's turn to scrutinize. "So that's why he has no manners," he thought, watching Satoru pick his nose.

“Too bad. Thought we might run into each other in a tournament.”

Satoru eyed him suspiciously. Too bad? Why was this guy being so nice to him? He didn’t know who he was, so he couldn’t be a kiss-up. And Gojo couldn’t fathom that he was simply dealing with someone genuinely nice. He was too used to cold, sarcastic manners.

“I don’t like sports much”, he said curtly. “Don’t talk to me, I'm starting my game, okay?”

"Yeah, he's an idiot," thought Suguru as he stood up and walked over to Satoru. "I should go study and stop wasting time with this annoying brat, but..."

Suguru hit the button to cancel the albino’s game. Satoru looked at him like he had just heard a dog talk.

“What the...?”

“I brought you here so we could both play. You have...that thing, same as me, and I think...I don’t know. You intrigue me. Can you play with me for a bit?”

Suguru was surprised to say those words and blushed like never before.

Satoru didn’t know what to say. No one had ever asked to spend time with him. People were always around him just because of who he was. Asking for permission to share his time was unheard of.

He didn’t think about it. He was intrigued by this Geto Suguru too. And in a way he couldn’t explain, he wanted to spend time with him. But they were short on time. He checked the time and clicked his tongue.

“I have half an hour. Then I gotta go or I’ll be half-dead.”

Suguru laughed loudly. He had no idea what Satoru meant, but it was funny anyway. And not just anyone could make him laugh like that.

“Alright, Cinderella. I’ll beat you in five minutes.”

He had no idea that Satoru played, hidden under his covers, for four hours every night. That, plus his exceptional brain, made him a whiz at everything he did, including ‘80s fighting video games.

After losing three rounds embarrassingly, Suguru thought it was best to throw in the towel. Not only that, but looking at the time, he realized his parents expected him for dinner in fifteen minutes.

“I think it’s time for me to go”, said Geto, a bit hesitant. He didn’t want to leave. He was having a good time.

Satoru looked at the time and was surprised to feel sad. He had to leave too. Standing up from the machine, he said:

“I have to go too.”

The two boys stared at each other like they were seeing their reflection.

“Wanna walk together?” asked Suguru suddenly.

Satoru nodded. He’d walk to Kyoto with this stranger, honestly.

As they left, Suguru headed to a vending machine.

“What do you want to drink?”

The albino panicked. He’d never had any of those neon-colored drinks before. They were forbidden to him. The strongest had to follow a strict, low-sugar diet.

“The same as you”

“But I haven’t chosen anything yet”, said Geto, confused.

Satoru just looked away. He felt a bit ridiculous, which was new for him. He had been raised to never feel less than the rest of the simple mortals.

Guessing what was happening, Suguru got a Sprite for himself and a Coke for Satoru.

“Hey, heads up!”, said Suguru, tossing the soda to him.

Satoru instinctively activated his technique. Geto watched in amazement as the can was repelled from his body.

“How’d you do that? That was awesome!”

Gojo blushed. No one ever praised his achievements. Being the strongest was his duty. And no one gets praised for simply doing their duty.

“It’s...I was born this way”, he replied, scratching the back of his head. “It’s because of that...thing you have too.

“Can you teach me?”, asked Suguru, his violet eyes wide with hope.

“No. You’d have to be born in my clan and with these”. He took off his glasses and pointed to his eyes as he sat on the ground.

Noticing Suguru’s disappointed face, he added:

“But you’ll learn other things at the school.”

Suguru smiled resignedly, looking at the ground as he sat next to Gojo. He didn’t dare tell him the things he could already do with his technique. For some strange reason, swallowing curses felt dark and ugly, and not just because of their taste. Sometimes he felt something ominous came with keeping so many inside him. Satoru’s technique, on the other hand, seemed beautiful, bright, and natural, as if no one else in the entire universe could carry it with such grace.

Since Suguru wasn’t saying anything, Satoru, a bit nervous, asked:

“You know about the Curse School, right? If not, I can talk to them about you. Next year, I’m starting my first year.”

Geto smiled at him. There was something endearing about what he’d said. His words made him feel welcome at the famous school, even though he hadn’t set foot in it yet.

“Yeah, they came to recruit me a couple of weeks ago. I’m supposed to start my first year too, but...”. He hesitated. “...that day, I wasn’t sure I wanted to go. I said I’d give them an answer by the end of the month.”

Gojo felt disappointed. He had really started to like him. He could get used to those violet eyes and that flamboyant hair. No, he knew he would get used to it.

Playing it cool and while looking at his nails, he asked:

“And now? What do you think?”

Geto smiled at him. Gojo Satoru had become annoyingly charming to him. Maybe leaving traditional education wouldn’t be so bad. At least that curious boy would be by his side. And something told him he wouldn’t regret sharing his teenage years with him.

“Now I’m sure I want to go.”

Satoru felt a smile spreading from the tips of his toes to the ends of his violet hair. He never expected to smile at someone he’d known for less than two hours; it just happened as naturally as breathing.

He took a sip of his Coke and, besides instantly getting addicted to the sugar, felt the familiar twinge in his head. He didn’t have much time left. He had to lie down, or he’d end up passing out. He sighed and glanced at Suguru. He never thought he’d have such a good time that afternoon. He wanted to stay there, not just that day, but all week, month, year. But it was impossible.

Although, he thought, they had four years ahead of them. And who knows how much fun they’d have then. He smiled again. He felt that it would be alright. Very alright.

He stood up and, before leaving, extended his hand.

“See you next year, Geto Suguru?”

Suguru took it and, without letting go, replied:

“See you, Gojo Satoru.”

And so it would be. Even when he was out of sight, out of reach, and out of his life, in the countless memories of their days together, Satoru would see him. He’d see the photographs, the books, and the hair ties he’d leave behind. He’d see his smile, his eyes, and the way he said his name. He’d see, in short, into the intricate and gray soul of that boy who, thanks to ironic fate, he’d come to love inexplicably.

Unbearably.

Infinitely.

And he’d keep seeing him, until his last breath.

🕹️———————————-

Illustration by @ahresprite 🖤

[jacquelinemerritt]

Dragon Ball Z: Episode of Bardock Abridged Review

Originally posted December 14th, 2015

I’m not sure what’s going on, and I’m okay with that.

The scenario for “Episode of Bardock” set up by the source material is a very strange one. After being hit with Freeza’s planet destroying energy ball, Bardock is somehow sent back in time four thousand years, and he finds himself meeting the previous evolution of the Saiyan race and encountering Lord Chilled, the ancestor of Freeza.

He also apparently gains the power to go Super Saiyan, starting the legends that inevitably spread throughout the galaxy when he uses this power to defeat Chilled, which would seem to break every rule about time paradoxes that we know to exist.1 That scenario creates a problem very different from the problem of Revenge of Cooler; Team Four Star has to figure out a way to get us to suspend our disbelief despite the ridiculousness of this story.

Their solution is a damn clever one. To make this story palatable, they turn its ridiculousness up to eleven and add a layer of meta-commentary to the story itself. Right before Bardock gets transported to the past, the narrator claims that this should be Bardock’s end if it weren’t for the need to merchandise him, and then for good measure, the chorus to “Time Warp” from Rocky Horror plays. The purple Saiyans all sound like the exact same impression of Kermit the Frog, and their names are all misspelled derivatives of 90s rappers, with town doctor being named Dr. Dray and his son being named Twopock.

Lord Chilled, Freeza’s ancestor, is even more eccentric and demanding than his future progeny, and he has the most ridiculous British accent and high pitched voice of any character in the series. When Bardock realizes what is going on, it is the ridiculousness of this scenario that causes him to transform into a Super Saiyan and gain the power to defeat Chilled in time to Beethoveen’s Ode to Joy.

And finally, we cut to Goku telling Gohan this tale about his grandfather, who immediately questions the logical flaws in the scenario only to discover that hearing this story had actually all been a dream. Whether or not any of this actually happened to Bardock is left completely unresolved, and we the audience are left more confused than the story’s scenario ever could have made us on its own.

Rating: 5/5

If you enjoyed this review, consider supporting me on Patreon.

Stray Observations

1Unless time travel in the Dragonball Z: Abridged universe works like time travel in Lost, but as we find out in future episodes, it doesn’t.

This episode also serves as a much more effective introduction to Bardock’s character than “Father of Goku” did. His first reaction to meeting the purple Saiyans is to enter into an unfathomable rage, he critiques the people terrorizing the purple Saiyans for doing so ineffectively, and he casts shame upon the purple Saiyans for attempting to praise him. He’s also nicknamed “Violent Savior,” and if that doesn’t tell you a lot about him, I don’t know what will.

Narrator: “So ends the tragic fate of Bardock. Or so you’d think, if you didn’t know a thing about merchandising!”

Bardock’s “spiker” train of thought is very similar to a lot of the things we see Goku thinking.

Chilled: “In honor of their deaths, my men shall now and forevermore be given the names of fruits! Pineapple, bring us to planet Plant.” Yellow Alien: “So am I Pineapple?” Chilled: “Yes!”

Henchman: “Hello. We are the Space Police.” Aice Cube: “Man, fuck the police!”

Space Police: “We are here to collect space criminals and other ne’er-do-wells.” Dr. Dray: “I can assure you we have already exiled Chris of the clan Brown from our planet.”

So, if the purple Saiyans get pregnant by being hurt, does that mean I have to kinkshame an entire race?

Chilled: “Because of Raisins! Raisins is my intelligence officer.”

Chilled: “These people seem to have great respect for you. What is your secret?” Bardock: “Maybe it’s because I don’t look like a giant purple and orange tampon.”

[grimm-the-tiger]

My current DnD party is completely fucking nuts, and here’s why. For context, I should introduce our characters: 

Skadi Larkin - questionably human artificer (me), has no memories or sense of self-preservation. Somehow still alive. 

Aeran Farwatcher - druid of an unknown species (pretty sure she’s an elf), only halfway sane person in the party, which is not saying much 

Olaf - changeling jester and the absolute worst 

Ouros - Olaf’s backup, an asshole barbarian; currently a bow 

Tracer Main - (probably) human ranger 

John Smith - human artificer, acts sane but really isn’t 

John Cubed - John Smith RPing as Slimecicle 

Bill Durr - John Smith RPing as an extended pun 

Kijo - paladin??, based on Sun Wukong for some idea of how fucked up this character is. Kind of a munchkin 

Chair - chair 

Now, as for our actual shenanigans, we’re currently in the Land of Fae in order to do...something. I’m not sure what anymore; at this point, I think our only task is to give the fairies a bad time. This is just context for all the shit described below: 

I snuck us into a carnival by shouting “FIRE!!” and scaring off the crowd. 

Olaf lost a lung entering a portal to the Land of Fae. 

As soon as we entered the Land of Fae, Tracer Main walked off a crumbling bridge and fell face-first into the mud. We had to pull her out with a blanket and a stick. 

John Smith crossed the aforementioned bridge by jumping across a 20-foot gap. Keep in mind that he’s a normal human artificer. 

And then I, Aeran, and Tracer Main fucked up crossing the bridge and fell back into the mud - again. 

We tortured a friendly dragon for no real reason except almost everybody is a psychopath. 

My favorite spell somehow ended up being Acid Splash. 

Nobody figured out that Tracer Main is a girl until a good four or five sessions in. In fairness, she’s played by a boy and he never gave us any indication that she wasn’t a boy either. 

Olaf grew oddly fixated on stealing a car from the queen of the fairies. 

We spent an hour fighting a tree so we could build a boat and cross a river that turned out to be less than three feet deep. 

I got knocked unconscious and lost all my memory because John Smith chucked a hammer at the aforementioned tree, missed, and clobbered me in the head. 

Speaking of tree antics, Olaf went crazy from smoke inhalation and his absence of a lung, passed out, and I and the other artificer had to replace his missing lung with a water skin and a cursed pipe that made him spontaneously start crying at random points in time. 

Other plans for crossing a (different) river included: John Smith belly-flopping across the river while casting a freeze spell to create a path, using a wand with fireball to cannonball across, and prayer. 

I found a secret passage by making faces in the mirror. 

Speaking of the secret passage, it made us shrink Alice in Wonderland-style and ended under a wardrobe, where we got stuck while returning to our original size. 

John Smith has a pet gelatinous cube and has so far decided to dispose of at least two bodies by feeding them to it. 

Make that three. 

While fighting sentient coals, Tracer Main ruined two separate buckets. Out of three. Then asked that I douse her hands with acid so she could chuck one of the coals into the water. This is how we figured out that the acid produced by Acid Splash is flammable. 

No joke, this is written in my notes as “The acid is flammable. Fuck you, Tracer Main.” 

Chair killed Olaf by throwing him off a bullywug settlement, causing him to crash into a rock. Chair regrets nothing. 

Olaf’s player outright begged us to do it because his stats were so terrible. 

We then immediately started trying to loot his corpse. Aeran told us off, so we decided to bury his body by blowing it up like some sort of fucked-up rocket. This conveniently also blew up the bullywug settlement, who were friendly to us until that point, and the king we were supposed to deliver a package to. 

Aeran was very disappointed that this also included Olaf’s butterfly wings. 

To add insult to injury, his epitaph is now “throw me in!”, courtesy of John Smith and Chair. 

Also, yes, Chair is a literal chair. And a barbarian. I have no clue how that’s supposed to work. 

He also broke a leg at some point, and we jerry-rigged a wheel to replace it and started calling him Wheelchair because my party is terrible. 

Kijo got eaten by a witch Mariner’s Revenge Song-style. 

[nitrosodiumepicfps]

Voxel Games

Once more, talking about voxels.

Crossy Road - This is a game that I imagine most people my age remember from childhood. It's like Frogger, with a technological advantage. It's isometric and all voxelated, you can clearly see what is going to be a hazard to your character, and it was a lot of fun back in the day. It's not too deep mechanically though, so I can't write paragraphs on it.

Minecraft - I think this is quite literally the most popular game of all time, neck in neck with Tetris. As I think I already touched on, Minecraft isn't really voxelated, it makes its geometry out of, well, geometry. Polygons. This hasn't done wonders for the performance, leading to each update grinding Minecraft closer to a halt. Despite this, loading each part of the world in 16x16 chunks and running on the in-house Render Dragon engine was a smart move, and essential to have this game run at all. Voxels are used in creating the game map; as everything is blocks (or at least fits into blocks), each cube of space can be represented by a voxel when generating terrain.

Teardown - Now this is a very cool game. Essentially, all of the world is voxels, and can be blown out, smashed to bits, disintegrated, or blasted apart. Once again, it's a unique engine, specially optimized to deal with so many minuscule game objects being simulated at once. You enter each map first to plan an escape route for a heist, knocking down walls to make the most efficient path. Then, you enter it a second time, running the course you've just sculpted yourself. It's a very interesting sandbox concept, and I'd definitely be interested in playing it, though I doubt my laptop could run it.

Skies of the Past - Just looking at a few images, I can tell this game is good. You're on an archipelago of misty floating islands, and you must find the secrets of the once-thriving civilization that existed on them. You can use different methods to get between islands, whether it's a hot air balloon, or a plane that looks straight out of Da Vinci's codex. Very cool look.

Fugl - Truth be told, I don't know what a "fugl" is. I thought maybe it's an anagram of flug, the German word for 'flying', but I have no clue. In the game, you play as a bird, and you just fly through various biomes at your own pace. It seems interesting and pretty relaxing, I could definitely see myself playing this with a multi-hour video essay in the background. The fact that it's all voxels not only makes it very stylised, but it means the game can have you fly through majestic vistas at little cost to your performance. Supposedly, there are many mythical creatures in the game, the prospect of which I absolutely ADORE. I've heard a term for these games, "life cycle simulations" or something like that, where you're just a bystander watching an ecosystem go about its usual cycles. It seems cool, but I don't feel like paying 7 pounds for it.

The Touryst - This is an open world game that simulates what it's like to be a tourist... or touryst. You can explore the towns of this community you're holidaying in, or go spelunking in ancient tombs. Whenever you're indoors, the camera switches to a fixed perspective, but it's a more typical third-person isometric view when you're wandering the boardwalk. From what I understand, you can essentially do anything, play the game like a normal tourist would, or explore the ruins and monuments of the ancient people.

Bonfire Peaks - This is a curious one. You play as some kind of backpacker who wants to go off the grid, and burns all their belongings in a fire. Each level requires a more complex method to bring your belongings to the bonfire, alternating between pushing, pulling and lifting the box. It has a Minecraft-esque world comprised of blocks, your character takes up two and the box takes up one. Therefore, you're maneuvering a complicated shape up various hills and inclines, which creates some interesting puzzle gameplay. The story seems interesting, though the Steam description doesn't explain much.

[charcherry-weekly]

Charcherry Weekly - Issue 170

This is Mage of Light Nick Card and we've got an entire week of news to cover here.

Costume Party Disaster!

Not too long ago, Rogue of Heart Charles decided to throw a costume party the day before halloween, which also happened to be when they would want to meet me about the roleopolis core. Your dear newsletter writer arrived to the party dressed as a traffic cone. My sibling, Prince of Time Aeons Edgeworth, decided to show up, dressed as Colombo. We arrived to the bar early on and met up with Charles, who was dressed up as Seto Kaiba--complete with a duel disk. Also of note was Warlock of Time Coleman dressed as tuxedo mask, Brae Emit as Sailor Moon, Heir of Time Thoren Emit as Dracula, Heir of Hope Hazel Careon as Vriska Serket, Maid of Void Skitis as her ancestor Nemara, and one additional as a very effective ninja. I presented the cube to Charles and they foolishly tried to scan it with their duel disc. This cased it to enter some really weird mode and set off the catalyst for everyone in Gene's Garden believing that they are their costume. As a cone is inanimate, I stayed immobile until the effects were reversed. It is theorized by Charles that it was a combination of the roleopolis core, the duel disk technology, and Hazel's hope powers, though I can see a potential argument for Charles's heart powers coming into play as well. Regardless, it was a mess, especially when Thoren and Brae showed up. With one as a high powered hero and the other as an infamous villain, the bar was practically a powder keg waiting to happen. June Egbert wound up getting involved when Vriska contacted the memo. Wishing to see a familiar face, June tried to meet up with vriska, only to meet push-back. However, the desire was strong on both end, and June wound up having to retcon zap Hazel out of the range of the bar's mysterious field. She was distraught when the vriska state seemingly faded from Hazel, but somehow Hazel retained/manifested an alter version of vriska anyhow? With Hazel/Vriska missing from the equation, the core's hold grew weak, with the sudden lack of ambient Hope energy to keep up the belief in the illusion. It was decided that the roleopolis core is too dangerous for Charles to go plugging random things into and was stored somewhere safe, until actually needed to be used.

Shard Party Success!

The next day, Halloween proper arrived, and with that, the ghost pokemon began swarming, as they usually do on the 31st. There was a great deal of kids trick-or-treating over here in Unity Village. I made sure they got full size candy bars upon showing up to the cabin, as long as they could brave the scares from Pelreol the dragon boot. This day also happened to be the first real birthday of Shard Emit (all ten years before being imaginary.) Those who chose to participate went all-out in preparing the best celebration they could for the kid. Samus Kitten provided a veritable seafood buffet, Page of Mind Samm brought a carrot cake, Heir of Hope Hazel Careon/Vriskers (dubbed as such to differentiate from other versions of Vriska) provided the venue, Brae Emit did a large amount of decorating (With Maid of Void Skittis to help). Brae had to retrieve Thoren from the bar to get them to attend their child's birthday celebration, as they were still distraught about their own behavior when they were acting as Dracula. Fortunately this was napped out of easily with a rolled up paper tube.As a note, the bar was filled with dreambubble mist, but the ghost turn-out was minimal, likely due to the crowd being largely elsewhere this year. Fallen Reaper Thanatos Emit was one of the few who did visit. They spent their time with their dear sister, Prince of Time Flux Emit. June Egbert delivered Shard (dressed as a vampire, later identified as Alucard) and a certain ninja to the party. Notably absent however, was Heir of Time Rise Emit, who was apparently away in Hisui for a few days. Regardless, the party went well and Shard enjoyed the night in company of friends and family.

More Birthdays!

On November 3rd, there were a number of related and seemingly unrelated birthdays all at once. Hazel Careon, Katyleen Kitten, Blaze, and both versions of HAZEL. I still need to get them all presents, but I'm not even sure what I'd even get them. Upcoming on November 5th is the shared birthday of the Emit twins and their temporal alternates. This includes Rise, Brae, Thoren, and Flux. I haven't the slightest idea what to get them either. On November 16th, is mine and Aeons's birthday. I will be turning 28 and Aeons will be turning approximately 36. Ideally we should have turned 31 this year, if it weren't for past furthest ring/time travel weirdness. There are likely other birthdays this month that haven't been covered, but it is clear that there are a lot of them.

This week's known market stands in Desertia Town:

Katie’s potion stand (Not available to plitlanders due to regulations, available to all others however)

shinyjiggly pokesnacks stand (ran by Rufus)

balloons stand

air purifier stand

On-the-road food store - Rations, trail (5 sp) - Maple syrup (1 gp)

Leatherworking stand - Adventuring Gear (2 sp) - Medium Armor (10 gp) - Musical Instrument (30 gp) - Light Armor (10 gp)

Okay, that's probably everything for this week. I have a feeling it might be a good month for folks to consider contacting Dr. Winters about any needed therapy sessions. Regardless, I've finally got back into swing with left beef. I can only hope that the momentum holds. https://letssosl.boards.net/thread/405/charcherry-weekly-issue-170

[kradogsrats]

Rewatch Shitposts: Ep 1-4

i.

“We’ve fought off plenty of assassins before” I’m sorry Harrow you’ve WhAT

Runaan, master assassin: cannot tell blood from berry juice

… is Claudia reading straight-up dragon erotica in broad daylight?

It gets totally eclipsed by Aaravos so I forgot, but Viren’s voice: also pretty sexy. Especially when he’s sassing.

ii.

Definitely want to know the background of Rayla being brought on this mission because she’s really bad at this.

Claudia: “I’ll find a way to stop the assassins!” /stops to play with the primal stone and flirt with Callum

Rayla: “I will fix the humans knowing we’re coming by entering their castle in broad daylight!” oh baby no

Viren never missing an opportunity to be an absolute drama queen

Anyway don’t mind me over here finding the process of a character having their armor put on them piece by piece one of the single most narratively sexy things in all of fake medieval fantasy. Literally the only thing that could be more sexy to me than this is if it was Viren personally arming him, I’d die happy suffocating under the weight of the metaphor.

iii.

Claudia having to smack her arm to get her hand-light to stop flickering is truly the single most genius moment of humor in this entire show

I find it impossible to like Runaan, no matter how much soft backstory they give him, because he’s just… such an asshole. Like, what does Ethari see in this guy? Is his dick that bomb?

Like literally I was thinking back in ep2 or whatever, “oh, he’s sidelining Rayla to save her life, because now that their element of surprise is gone he expects the rest of them all to die” and now he’s just fucking firing arrows at her. “Your justice will come later,” please. No wonder this girl is so fucked up.

Callum: /falls down the stairs, me: … and then he died

Amazing how 90% of everything I obsess about in this show actually is in literally the first three episodes, what the hell

iv.

Opeli has a point, this city-wide funeral procession appears to be the same fucking night, like is the body even cold

Aaaaand Viren going zero to maximum drama, bud just find a grief support group please

Supreme jock Rayla enjoying being a nerd for a moment to explain magic to Callum

”I have this feeling that cube thing can help me” oh boy are you in for a surprise or four

YES AMAYA MY QUEEN

I actually love Gren too, like what a bro.

The soldiers in the background putting the Banther Lodge doors back on their hinges after Amaya kicked them down is also absolute chef’s kiss peak humor

First time we see the Key: it falls Star side up

Ezran: “[unconvincingly] Ow…” thanks, Netflix caption writer

Corvus: also very sexy, but everyone knows that

Second Key appearance: lands in Callum’s hands Sky-side up

[bakersstreetirregulars]

Season 7: The Age of Dragons

🥭 It must be time for Season 7 already… it only feels like yesterday when we were in Season 6, seeing the Blue Dragon’s Lotus Paradise… but then we had the Invocation Cards. Must’ve been a large misstep back then… but now here we are! Run with 10 Cookies through 8 perilous stages in the new Lustrous Longan Palace Main Episode in Breakout! Or… take the calmer path in the new Easy Mode for half the stages and less rewards, but the stages are much easier to play with! Run through the Main Episode and unlock new stories to see how the plans of the Ivory Dragon begin to unfold…

🕯 Here’s a classic Treasure for you to master: the Horse Figurine! Explore the powers of this Treasure and get rewarded, ehehehehehehe!

Crystal Gifts

💎 Look closely at the game this month. A bottomless gallery of Crystals is abound for those that return every day for as many as 10,000 over the course of the month, but you will be greeted immediately with a collection of a thousand Crystals to celebrate the arrival of Season 7.

Do you desire even more Crystals? For every one hundred seconds of active running you do, you can collect a hundred Crystals too, all the way to a maximum of 500 seconds and 500 Crystals every day until they reset at 11:00 AM EST.

Only the luckiest of the lucky, however, will be graced with a massive jackpot of Crystals or Rainbow Cubes with a special on Lucky Tickets. How do they work? Claim a free ticket once every 8 hours and scratch off the squares to reveal your prize. Using simple multiplication, you could win as many as 20,000 Crystals, 10,000 Rainbow Cubes, or 10 million Coins from one ticket. Recent big winners will be recorded publicly under the “Super Lucky!” tab, while your past ticket winnings can be reviewed in the “My Rewards” tab.

🥭 If you have friends that don’t play Ovenbreak yet, or haven’t played it in a long time, invite them here to play Season 7! There’s rewards in it for your first 5 invites, including Lychee Dragon Cookie!

Patch Notes

🏆 Champions League: “Cutting Edge CookieBot Laboratory” map was swapped out with “Happy Party World”

🍬 Jelly Shapes: The “Happy Holidays 2021” and “4th Anniversary” Jelly Shape Sets have been added to the Jelly Shape Gacha

🧵 Legendary Costume Rate-Up Party: Special gacha banners for Legendary costumes will rotate regularly based on the following schedule:

(6/28 - 7/1): Sea Fairy’s Dread Trident of the Abyss, Peppermint’s Ballad of the Starry Sea, Captain Ice’s Warden of the North, Sorbet Shark’s Sea Overlord

(7/2 - 7/4): Moonlight’s Primordial Light, Blueberry Pie’s Glass Atrium Respite

(7/5 - 7/7): Wind Archer’s Zephyr of Life, Pomegranate’s Twisted Labyrinth

(7/8 - 7/10) Dark Enchantress’s Chaos Incarnate, Licorice’s Aberrant Conjurer, Dark Choco’s Sovereign of Darkness & Young Prince

(7/11 - 7/14) Timekeeper’s Ruler of the Ephemeral Flow, Croissant’s Director of the TBD, Walnut’s Search of Lost Time, Roguefort’s Pursuit of Lost Time

Team Fight: Season 2

🗺 5 New Maps Added

⚔️ Friendship Matches Added: Form a team of 3 and enter the other team’s ID to send them a friendly match invite. Friendly Matches do NOT provide Shop Points or Trophies!

😤 Early Disconnection Penalty Intensified: Leaving while a Team Fight is active will now impose a Trophy Deduction penalty in addition to the temporary matchmaking ban. Harsher penalties will be imposed for more frequent disconnections.

📜 Match History: Added history of the last 5 matches played, allowing you to copy and save the combis of any participant in the match

📒 Combi Saving Improvement: You can now save combis featuring elements that you have not unlocked yet (Cookies, Pets, Treasures)

🔥 Levels Hidden: Player Levels will not be shown when entering a match.

🎟 MAX Boost Tickets: Allows a one-time max-level boost for your team for free. These tickets will be accessible in future events. Buying a Season Pass will instantly activate the boost.

🎖 MVP: The player that contributes the most to the Team Mission during a match will now be named the team’s MVP! Boosters that activate a Max-Level Boost can be easily identified with a gold label, while everyone else on the team has a silver label.

Balance Changes & Bug Fixes

🦖 Dino-Sour Cookie: Fixed an issue where the Jellysaur Rex would collect unintended kinds of jellies, reduced cooldown, increased points for Jelly Chops and Golden Jelly Chops, increased Combi Bonus with Dino Egg

🕰 New Cooldown: 33 Seconds

🍖 New Max Jelly Chop Score: 2,000,000 points

🍖 New Max Golden Jelly Chop Score: 3,000,000 points

🤝 Combi Bonus: +2,000,000 Jelly Chop Points

🌋 Peperoncino Cookie: Fixed issues where using the skill’s jump ability in an area where jump height is limited would cause the Cookie to go below the map and sprint infinitely, and the issue where if the skill was activated on a zip line, the ability animation would stay until the end of the zip line

☀️ Lime Cookie: Added a gauge which counts down to when Lime Cookie receives her next beach ball from the sky

🍋 Lemon Cookie: Fixed an issue where the Lemon Shield’s Super Magnetism wouldn’t affect the Magnetic Aura from the Divine Guardian Shield

Dino Egg: Reduced cooldown, number of explosions and jellies restored by Dino-Pop Fireworks no longer depend on level, levels now determine how many times Energy is restored, increased points for Dino-Pop Jellies

💥 Explosions Created: 5

❤️ Energy Restored: +2 x 5 explosions

🍬 Max Dino-Pop Jelly Score: 50,500 points

🕰 New Cooldown: 29.5 seconds

Horse Figurine: +2 scoring ticks, reduced points per tick, reduced Combi Bonus points

✨ Number of Ticks: 10 ticks

💥 Max Points per Tick: 382,500 points

☀️ Max Enhanced Points per Tick: +67,500 points

🤝 Combi Bonus: +50,000 Warhorse Spirit Points

Paradise Compass: Fixed an issue where equipping the Treasure caused the following jellies to not get attracted without Super Magnet effects, even if the Cookie would attract those jellies by default:

-Crescent Moon Jellies

-Lotus Gems

-Pirate Coins

-Spectral Jellies

🍬 Created Jelly Attraction

The following Cookies, Pets, and Treasures will now have their created jellies attracted to the Cookie at a certain radius:

Cookies

🌔 Moonlight Cookie

🌸 Cherry Blossom Cookie

🩰 Whipped Cream Cookie

🛼 Grapefruit Cookie

🍿 Popcorn Cookie

🎸 Rockstar Cookie

📝 Cotton Candy Cookie

💫 Cream Puff Cookie

🍑 Peach Cookie

🥁 Macaron Cookie

⚗️ Alchemist Cookie

🍷 Vampire Cookie

Pets

Pancake Frisbee

Inktopus

Tea Cup

Backpacky

Magmabird

Ocean Dragon

Pink Candy

Mini Jackson No. 2

Cloud Pelican

Paper Boat Sailor

Castanets

Marshmallow Hamster

Gobble Gobblin’ Chest

Treasures

Colorful Paper Plane

Fiery Candy Comet

Scroll of Guidance

Nutcracker Mallet

Carrot Missile

Lucky Clover Earrings

🥭 That’s the end of the initial events, now have fun and good luck in meeting the dragons!

[intangibly-here]

i miss you (more than anything)

zhongli x gn!reader

- scenario; 2.4k words - modern!au - fluff - jealousy

————————————————————

zhongli isn’t one for jealousy— usually.

title from mitski - francis forever.

requested by anon.

————————————————————

“an excellent choice, sir.”

again with the nicknames... 

slender fingers pick up a considerably stylized box, the smooth white a stark contrast to dark, glove-adorned palms. zhongli turns the box over in his hands, inspecting the various fine print explanations splayed along the edges of the plastic. now this is...

BANG!

clink. 

zhongli barely stifles a flinch at the sound of the door slamming, hinges squeaking and metal lock clicking into place with a whirlwind of motion. amber eyes flick up to the doorway, then back down to the polished counter.

five minutes late.

he sets the ice cube he’s handling into a wine glass after a brief pause, beginning to fashion up a flute of apple cider vinegar. the pattering of lively footsteps against tiled flooring rapidly grows nearer, clattering to a halt directly across the bar from where he stands. 

“hey there, mister zhongli! looking just about as boring as ever!”

hu tao plops into the cushioned chair, swiveling back and forth on the seat and leaning forward to watch him pour the concoction.

(it’s designated for customers of course— though that’s only usually. she happens to claim, to his exasperation, that she has “owner privileges”; whatever that could possibly mean when the place itself is meant to serve the needs of customers: that would include the spacing and chairs they may potentially desire when they enter the premises. unfortunately, he’s given up on understanding on her whims.)

from his position across the counter, zhongli absentmindedly spies the edge of a bright-red butterfly wing from underneath her outfit’s loose, flowing sleeves, the simple pendant string looped twice around her wrist. 

swallowtail. 

it’s the name (”like the butterfly, zhongli! the butterfly!”) of the establishment he’s currently employed at and is “run” by the granddaughter of a distant relative (though the bar is legally owned by said relative’s family). due to his— well, rather particular (per say) spending habits and a lack of mindfulness regarding the matter of what they liked to call savings (why would there be a need for these “savings”? he’d like to protest he’s traversed life well enough without them), he’d been pushed into putting the multitude of experience from past jobs into this one. 

and well, here he is now. 

chop. chop. 

two evenly-sliced apple slices tip over from against the blade of the knife and onto the wooden cutting board. fetching a sprig of mint from the small potted plant just below the rack of knives (growing lights and shelving did wonders in the spontaneous lighting of the nightclub), zhongli finished decorating the non-alcoholic drink of choice for the pseudo-proprietress. who knew what havoc she’d cheerfully throw herself into, archons forbid, if it were liquor. she’s already enough of a handful as it is. 

he sighs in resignation and slides the beverage over. the ice tinkles in the glass confines. he does have a favor to ask today after all. hu tao gives the drink a sniff, then puffs her cheeks in mock anger. 

“no alcohol? booooo, you’re such a rock.”

she takes a generous sip anyway. 

“so, what did you call me here for? not very zhongli-like for you to ask something of lil’ ol’ me. archons, have you been replaced?” 

she squints at him judgingly, then raises an eyebrow when he hesitates to answer.

“doesn’t look that way, old man.”

zhongli can feel the beginnings of a headache forming between his brows. he waves his hand dismissingly as if flicking away her babbling nonsense. 

“i have a favor to ask of you.”

“oh-ho?”

hu tao smirks playfully and pushes the half-finished drink aside, craning her neck forward. 

“what can i do for our esteemed mister zhongli, hm? hehe.”

zhongli clenches his fist under the edge of the woodwork in an effort to calm his raging annoyance. 

(it doesn’t help.)

he should just ask, shouldn’t he..?

“..i’ve been pondering this for a number of days now, but nothing quite appropriate for the occasion has happened to come to mind... do you happen to have any gift ideas for...”

he looks to the side to avoid eye contact and trails off, but hu tao immediately gets the memo. 

“ohhh..” her smile only grows wider, “this is for your daaaate—”

zhongli’s face flushes the slightest tinge of rosy pink and he hisses a sharp “shush!” through gritted teeth. and here he had thought she couldn’t get on his nerves beyond how she’d already acted thus far... 

the cheshire grin on her face still continues to climb. 

“well, you’ve definitely asked the right person! how about...”

some new polaroid film? is what she had proposed.

“it’s not some fancy-schmancy anniversary gift, no? just a date! a date! don’t worry yourself so much over it— no, don’t look at me like that. if you called me over to ask about it, you’re deeeefinitely losing hair over this— okay, okay, i got it! don’t kick me out! old man... sheesh. why don’t you get some more polaroid film and wrap it up all nice? useful and an excuse to take more pictures together! i know, i know, i’m a genius— mmph!”

he can still hear her voice bouncing around in his head (”can’t believe you’re getting rid of your boss, mister zhongli! didn’t take you for the rebellious type—”). zhongli brings his hand up to his temple and breathes out another sigh. it’s not like her idea was a terrible one; if anything, it were a wonderfully exquisite proposal— not that he would tell her. 

“i’d like to purchase this, if you would.”

he hands the box over to the shopkeep, who scans the package and rings up the bill. indiscreetly, he feels up the pocket of his jacket. thank the archons he remembered his wallet today. it would certainly be embarrassing to put this particular item on your tab. 

“sure thing, mister zhongli. i’m assuming this is a gift,” they eye him knowingly, “so would you like it wrapped up?” 

deja vu, his brain mutters, this is very much deja vu. he shuts it up promptly. 

“not this time, but you have my sincerest thanks for the offer. i’d like to wrap it myself.” he can feel his (generally..) expressionless face flaring up the faintest hint of pink and berates his mind once more. only when it comes to you...

acquiring the purchased item, zhongli dips his head in acknowledgement as he heads out. the plants hanging from baskets strung along the ceiling sway their leaves to and fro, nearly catching a wayward lock of his hair. he smooths the stray strand back.

“thank you once again, aether. let lumine know they can drop by for some tea again whenever they’d like for me, please.”

the bell hanging over the doorway tinkles when he pushes it open, and the bustle of the busy harbor seeps into the tranquility of the shop. aether nods and waves a hand at him in return, resting an arm on the cash register. 

“come again.”

-

while he’d imagined many ways your planned outing could play out, this was certainly not one of them. 

he’s approaching the meeting spot you two had decided on (right in front of the flowering quince tree near the park; its blooms resemble those of simpler, smaller silk flowers, and it happens to be quite the scenic location to wait) when he spies not only your stature, but another figure residing right besides you. 

who...?

as he steps closer, he can hear your laughter, the kind that he knows bubbles out of your chest and escapes your lips unconsciously. your amusement isn’t lost on your companion apparently, because they smirk teasingly, letting out a full-blown laugh of their own. 

“oh, zhongli, over here!”

your voice snaps him out of his meandering thoughts, and he stops fiddling with his earring (when did he start doing that?), continuing forward from where he’d paused in his observations of this newcomer. something starts to bloom in his chest, small and bittersweet. he’s not sure what to make of it. 

following your beckoning, zhongli finally makes his way to your side, mentally taking note of your.. friend? he doesn’t remember you mentioning anyone like this before though. surely he would remember your friends, no? 

his earring sways in the wind, white tassel fluttering cheerfully. 

“zhongli, this is my friend kaeya. i met him when i made that trip to mondstadt awhile back, remember that? oh, and kaeya, this is my boyfriend zhongli.”

(the little dragon curled up in his heart preens at your introduction of him, small and sweet.) 

ice blue meets molten gold when zhongli’s eyes dart up to make eye contact with this stranger. they squint at him, assessing, then dip into the makings of a playful twinkle. a hand reaches out for a handshake, which he returns in equal measure. interesting...

“he got a little lost touring liyue and i happened to see him here in the park. small world, huh? i know it was our day love, but do you mind if we take him around for today?”

zhongli smiles appeasingly, gentle and assuring as always. he can recognize the slightly nervous look on your face, one that’s a stark contrast to how energetic you’d looked just a few minutes ago. if kaeya’s company makes you happy and you’d like to take him around, then who is he to refuse your request? you two will have more time to spend with just the two of you later, he reasons with himself. accompanying your friend, and in turn his acquaintance, is nothing big.

(and no, it’s certainly not you calling him love that makes him cave.)

“of course we can.”

tugging at the string of his eyepatch, kaeya swiftly ties his hair back and adjusts the collar of his shirt. “so, where to first?”

zhongli takes your hand in his, squeezing softly. you squeeze back.

getting along together should come just fine.

-

he takes it back. 

he takes it all back. 

he’d accepted it at first because, well, this was your friend. he shouldn’t be controlling who you interact with nor who befriended you - that’s not up to him. it shouldn’t ever be. however—  with every passing moment that kaeya inched closer to you, taking up the entirety of your attention and bringing that bright, bright grin to your face—

(this was supposed to be your date. just the two of you. he hasn’t seen you in a month; surely he can feel a bit selfish, right?)

the three of you turn the corner to an intricately-themed restaurant and pause, where even zhongli looks appreciatively at the beautifully grown bamboo stalks lining the edges of its front walls. 

“wanmin restaurant,” kaeya reads, craning his neck up to gaze at the signboard. bold red calligraphy is sprawled across the rough-cut wood. “awfully simple name for such a stunning place, isn’t it?”

if he weren’t stewing in a pot of conflicted emotions, zhongli would surely inform him of how carefully selected this title was, how it represented more than just a name, how it hid at least several decades worth of effort and teachings— but as it is, he (really, of all people) has no patience for that at the moment. 

first tugging on the hem of your outfit, zhongli then takes you by the elbow and hastily leads you forward to the glass doors of the establishment. he grasps your hand in his as usual, but something must be off, because you twitch a little and look at him curiously. 

he turns his head away, lips pursed just the slightest.

“let us dine here for the time being. it is an appropriate time and place, after all.”

the sun shines brightly in the clear sky as if illuminating his words.

kaeya raises an eyebrow, singular eye looking on inquisitively and arms crossed, then moves further ahead of you both once more. the corner of his mouth dips in a clear show of mirth. bowing with one arm held at the waist, one not unalike a formality from a server, he looks straight into zhongli’s eyes and holds the door open for entrance. 

“that sounds like an excellent idea. well, if you would.”

-

“thanks for the tour around you two.”

kaeya hums his thanks with a cheerful lilt to his voice as you all stand under the porchlight of zhongli’s house. 

(it’s not the largest abode, but it’s cozy and sweet, and it’s definitely enough for the both of you whenever you decide to stay over. tonight is one of those nights, and they may as well become more frequent after the trip you took abroad.) 

his car keys reflect the glow of the bulb, swinging around his finger in loops. they clink noisily, metal against metal, and he grabs them all at once, halfway through another turn. in his car sits a box of treasure-themed artifacts, likely old and had found its way into your hands somehow. zhongli knows you’d been meaning to give them to someone, but he hadn’t known it were kaeya— either way, the artifacts that’d been laying on his shelves for weeks were now handed off. 

ruffling your hair, kaeya pulls you in for a brief hug; although zhongli can feel the bitter pang in his chest, he stays where he stands, keeps it still and small. he can wait. 

that said, the moment kaeya drives off, he’s hauling you into the house and curling up on the couch, pulling you onto his lap and tugging you into his arms. the long thought over gift sits patiently on the counter. it’s waited the entirety of today; it can wait another. 

right now, he needs you. 

your body sinks against his, relaxing from the lively, though exhausting, day. slumped against his chest, he burrows his head in the crook of your shoulder and cuddles you, nuzzling into your neck. finally, you’re home. home with him. 

it’s warm...

“..it was our day...”

you shift your head at his mumbling, lifting his chin to presumably look at his expression. your attention is his now. not kaeya’s. not anyone else’s. just his. 

(his eyes are soft and droopy, smudged red making them look especially mellow in the dim lighting, and lips pushed into the slightest pout. he knows what you’re seeing when you gaze at him fondly, and you can almost see the puppy eyes he sports. how unusual of him.)  

“someone’s a little jealous here, hmmm?” 

you drag out the syllables teasingly, and from lips that are pressing kisses against your skin, he responds a little muffled—

“perhaps.”

[sunpirate]

A fanfic of the aftermath of that part in the Burning Maze, but from another perspective

——

Piper didn’t know how much time had passed. She didn’t know how she ended up back in their dark, empty living room, or when her screams and cries faded into blank stares and ragged breaths.

She slid down the wall and onto the hardwood floor, too numb and exhausted to care about the pain from her injuries. The flashing lights outside told her an ambulance had arrived. Her dad’s voice emerged from a distance telling the medics what had happened, and they all rushed down to the beach - where he laid.

Piper brought her knees close to her chest and buried her head in her arms. Images of his last moments flashed behind her eyelids: him meditating inside the storm cage, his final fight with that damned emperor, his brilliant blue eyes locking onto hers for the last time, telling her all the things he was not given enough time to put into words. But one message was clearer than most - I’m sorry.

Then she was whisked away, unable to hear her own screams that were drowned by the winds of the storm spirit carrying her.

It wasn’t fair. There was still so much they needed to talk about. There was still so much he wanted to do. They were supposed to see Leo again together. He was supposed to live long and happy life with his family and friends, a life he deserved as one of the greatest heroes of Olympus. It wasn’t fair.

Piper felt another wave of emotions coursing through her body, but before it could crash, a soft gust of wind followed by movement in front of her caught her attention.

In the darkness of the living room, where the only lights were from the orange street lamps outside and the red and blue flashes of the ambulance, Piper could make out a pale hand offering her small cube.

“Take it,” a voice in the dark said. It sounded tired, but vaguely familiar. “It’s not going to heal everything, but it’ll at least heal your wounds.”

Piper took a closer look at the cube - ambrosia. She took it gingerly in her bruised hand, still unable to make out the face hidden in the shadows. Why was his voice so familiar?

The ambrosia took her back to her very first mission, when she, Leo, and Jason ate those sandwiches on Festus’ back, soaring above Quebec city lights. It felt like so long ago, when flying on that dragon with her friends was the most dangerous, most exciting thing she had ever done in her life. She almost chuckled at her own naïvety.

Now she was alone, battered and broken in all the ways you could think of, heart colder and emptier than the house she was in, aching so badly to feel the warmth of the people she loved once more.

But the figure in the dark was still there. He stepped closer to her into what dim light could enter the room, giving Piper a clearer view of his face. And after it registered to her who this person was, she could only give him a small, humorless laugh, too drained to put her guard up, or to be surprised, or to even run away.

He looked drastically different from when they last saw each other. His usual carefully-styled Elvis hair had grown out and lay disheveled across his head, his deep-set stormy eyes peeking through thick bangs. He was a lot less bulky and seemed to have gotten skinnier and paler. Instead of football jerseys, he now was wearing a black long-sleeved button-up shirt with his jeans, with a couple of buttons left undone at the neck as if it were hastily thrown on without any care for what it looked like. The smug expression he had always worn had disappeared, and it seemed like it had been gone for a while.

“What do you want, Dylan?” Piper says dryly, voice coarse from her screams.

The storm spirit sank down next to her, his expression unreadable. He propped his elbows up on his knees and started playing with a small coin in his hands. Their shoulders brushed lightly.

“You looked pathetic. Thought you could use some company.”

Piper scoffed. She found it hard to believe that this monster who had once tried to kill them had suddenly cared about her. “Cut the crap, ventus. Why are you really here?”

The storm spirit sighed, and Piper felt the temperature around her drop just the slightest.

“He called for me. Who do you think carried you out that ship in the first place?”

Piper’s mind swam. “I- I don’t… Tempest brought us out-“

“Storm spirits can only carry one person at a time. At least, any more than our own bodily mass will just fall right through us.”

She was too disoriented by the events that happened to pay proper attention to when she was dragged out of Caligula’s ship, but as Piper looked back, she couldn’t recall being whisked away with Lester anywhere near her.

“But I don’t think he knew that.” Dylan leaned his head back on the cold wall, eyes looking past the ceiling. “He was addressing his steed, asking him to bring you two to safety, but his heart called out for help as well. And since we had been connected once before, I felt the call a little stronger than the others… and I simply responded.”

Piper was still confused. “Connected?”

“You don’t remember? About a year ago, over the waters of Greece? I was the strongest storm spirit in that crowd. He managed to capture me in my ventus form and make me submit to him. It wasn’t much of a fight. He got way more powerful than when I last saw him. Guess you could say he tamed me, in a way.” The memory seemed to amuse Dylan, who cracked the slightest of smiles.

Piper racked her brain, then she remembered. Gaea’s minions. A violent storm. Percy and Jason jumping into the water.

“Jason was reeling in a storm spirit for air supply,” Piper recalled. “I was busy yelling at him to go back inside and rest, since he had just gotten stabbed.”

Her chest immediately tightened at the memory. She recalled her anguish when she saw Jason get impaled the first time. She was helpless back then. She was still helpless now.

Stupid. Useless. Pathetic.

She struggled not to spiral into darker thoughts. Piper buried her head once more in her arms and sobbed quietly. Her world seemed to crumble around her, and the night felt insultingly quiet after everything that had happened. She just wanted the shadows to eat her up, to disappear into the dark where she wouldn’t have to think or feel again.

Dylan continued absentmindedly playing with the coin in his hands, weaving it through his fingers and flipping it in the air.

“You know, I saw some of his thoughts when we were in that water. I felt what he felt. He genuinely wanted to help that goddess. He fought hard to defend his friend. He had such noble intentions, it made me want to puke.” Dylan gripped the coin in one hand until the metal dug hard into his palm. “But because of him, I was able to see both sides. I felt his determination. I felt his purpose. It overwhelmed all my senses. His heart was already strong, but became even stronger when he accepted his identity as both Roman and Greek.”

Piper slightly turned her head and looked up at him curiously from the side through tear-stained eyes.

“It was enough to make my loyalty to Gaea waver,” Dylan continued. “I stopped trying to resist him. Even helped him in that fight. Then when he released me, I felt dazed for weeks. I didn’t know where to go, or what to do. Guess that’s why my appearance changed, too - it reflected how I felt. But I just knew I didn’t want to serve the Earth Mother anymore. Because when you’re up against a hero like him, I knew there wouldn’t be a chance.”

“What does that matter now?” Piper snapped. “He’s gone. He’s dead.”

Her voice broke as she spoke the last word. She shut her eyes and laid her head back against the wall as more tears streamed down her face. And it’s all my fault…

“Hey.” Dylan’s voice was unfamiliarly gentle. It was as if he had read her thoughts. “His lifeline had already been severed. And that emperor’s a madman. There’s nothing anyone could’ve done about it without having more casualties - that includes you.”

Piper took a deep breath, eyes still shut. She wanted so badly to find someone to blame, but she knew Dylan was right.

She jumped lightly when he gently took her hand and pressed the coin into her palm. It was difficult to tell in the dim light, but as she looked down at the object, she realized it was made out of Imperial gold, with an image of Julius Caesar on one side and the letters IVLIVS etched onto the other.

“Is this…?”

“His old weapon. I found it on the ground in Mount Diablo when we were ordered to scout the aftermath of your battle with Enceladus.”

“But I thought the weapon was destroyed? I saw it get destroyed…”

“Well, the coin managed to survive, somehow. But it doesn’t have the power to turn into a weapon anymore. Since I can’t return it to its owner, I thought I’d give it to you.”

The golden coin glistened in the dark. As she stared at it longer, Piper could almost hear the sounds of their battle on that mountain.

Piper sighed and held the coin to her chest. Exhausted, she leaned to the side and laid her head onto Dylan’s shoulder. For a storm spirit, he felt pleasantly warm and solid, and Piper felt herself release tension she wasn’t aware she was holding. She completely let go of any animosity she had held toward the ventus, and just let him be her comfort for that night.

“Thank you,” she whispered before drifting off into a dreamless sleep. Dylan didn’t try to move away.

——

It was in the early lights of dawn when Piper stirred. Dylan was in the exact same spot next to her. It didn’t seem like he fell asleep.

Piper got up from his shoulder slowly and took several deep breaths. For a moment, they shared a mutual silence in the quiet of the morning.

The coin was still in her hand. She tightened her grip around it, and felt every groove and crevice on the surface of the metal.

“It doesn’t have the power to turn into a weapon anymore.”

Fine. Then I’ll be your weapon.

“I’m going after them,” Piper finally said, voice only louder than a whisper. “I can still honor his name. I’m not going to let them get away with this.”

Dylan looked at his old acquaintance in her eyes. What once held grief and pain was now brewing a fire of vengeance and justice. This was no longer that small and weak girl he had tried to flirt with multiple times a long time ago. She had grown much stronger, much braver from when they first met. She didn’t need to tame him to make him feel her rage - her emotions were radiating out of her like a fiery beacon. She was determined to bring her enemies down, and may the gods help anyone who would stand in her way.

The storm spirit returned her burning gaze.

“Give them Tartarus, Piper McLean.”

[griffinsanddragons]

Dragon Age 2 is Very Important To Me Actually

As anyone who knows me knows, I love Dragon Age 2. It is not only my favorite Dragon Age game but my favorite video game. 

But what makes Dragon Age 2, of all things, such a special game? 

Well, Dragon Age 2 Reignited My Love of Video Games.

Let me explain:

I grew up playing video games; I don’t remember a time before my family had the Sega Genesis and Nintendo 64. But I remember when we got the Play Station and I remember sneaking off to play my sister's Game Boy.

I remember spending playing with my Game Boy Advance and my cousins Game Cube and Xbox.

I’d spend hours on the computer playing Oregon Trail and it’s lesser known (but equally fun) spin-off, Yukon Trail, many space blaster games, Tomb Raider, Ecco the Dolphin, Barbie Fashion, Zoo Explorers and countless other games. 

And I just had so much fun.

The last game council I owned was the Xbox 360 — because my love of video games died down in High School.

I played a few MMOs and borrowed my friends Play Station Vita, but my enjoyment died down because of the toxic environment perpetuated by high school boys (this is also when I stopped playing Yu-Gi-Oh but that’s another story.) 

Suddenly it wasn’t about having fun anymore, suddenly it was about being ultra competitive and if you weren’t the best, why even play? 

Enter: My Ex Boyfriend. 

He was a Nationally Ranked Tekken Player, and so obsessed with his rank was he that he would actively neglect me in favor of playing this game. 

There were other issues there, but for me his clear addiction to this game made me extremely uneasy, and more so I felt very self-conscious.  

I loved playing games and I could beat my siblings and my cousins but was I ever ‘the best.’

And the games that I enjoyed the most were just silly fun.

I didn’t want to play Smash or Tekken; I wanted to play Kirby and Rayman and Mario Kart.

So what happens when you’re surrounded by such a competitive and toxic culture? How does that impact your enjoyment of things or your willingness to share those things with others? 

My response was to distance myself. I stilled play gamed from time to time but I didn’t enjoy them as much as I did growing up. 

At some point I discovered Otome games, and I carved out some space for myself; those games were self indulgent, they were fun, and they were for me and me alone. 

I’d occasionally find an MMO and then drop it a little later, but that was the extend of my gaming for a while... 

...Until one day @bunabi, my college roommate, brought home Dragon Age 2 and played it in our shared living space. 

She made all the wrong decisions, but I enjoyed watching the story unfold because it was so different from any other game I’ve played. 

It was a game about social issues, about living life in a city plagued with issues. Hawke wasn’t some mythic hero charged with saving the world, Hawke was just some person trying to make their way—and I loved it. 

I loved it in the same way I loved my Otome games; it was a game for me, and it was fun (and I could date cute companions.) 

I had every intention of playing that game and that game only, but bunabi told me she wouldn’t let me play Dragon Age 2 anymore if I didn’t play Origins (which I loved despite my initial disappointment in its narrative and larger scope.) 

I tried out Mass Effect Trilogy because it was from the same developers, and I fell in love again. 

So then I played Skyrim for a little while, tried out some new MMOs, played Inquisition (didn’t like it), played some Assassin’s Creed Games (really liked them), re-discovered Soul Calibur, and so on and so on. 

In essence, playing Dragon Age 2 reminded me how fun video games could be, it holds a special place in my heart and I never intend to shut up about it.

[laketaj24]

Rules VII: Good Girls

Author’s Note: I’ve been so busy so it took longer than normal!! But here it is!!! I hope you enjoy@ My taglist and requests are open!! Please like share and reblog if you love the work! It means the world to me!

Warnings: Sensation Play, SMUT.

Pairings: CEO!Henry Cavill x Reader

M A S T E R  L I S T

Like my work! Buy me a Ko-Fi!!! All proceeds help me get back to school!

Alex was in a brooding mood; he sulked through the office, barely acknowledging you. It shouldn’t have bothered you, but it did, you liked Alex. He was the only person in the office you had a genuine friendship with and now it was gone. You walked into the break room with him and perched against the doorjamb.

“What?” He didn’t look up from his coffee only added more sugar and stir with the black straw.

“I wanted to go have lunch with you if you’re interested?”

“Not interested.”

“What can I do to make you my friend again?”

“Stay away from your boy toy.” He shrugged. “Not for me, I can tell by your behavior you don’t want me, but Cavill is off.”

You blocked him from leaving, holding your arm up in the door. “Have sushi with me? Please? There will be no mention of Cavill, just us talking like we used to?” you ignored pretty much everything he said about Cavill. It was evident that he didn’t like him and, therefore, nothing that he said you can take seriously in regards to him.

“Fine.” He folded after a few moments of thinking. His eyes met yours, and you both smiled broadly.

Yasuka’s SteakHouse was the closest, and you were more than happy for the reunion. “And I talked to Morris about the new campaign, he likes all the ideas. I feel like things are finally going right.”

“You’re doing great.” You sink your teeth into the California roll remembering the slick grief he’d given you about the basic sushi rolls. His plate looked lavish, you didn’t know the names of half the rolls, but you were intrigued.

“How are your projects going?” He asked, picking up the dragon roll and biting into it. He closed his eyes, making the small piece look more delectable than it seemed.

“I want to try.” You said, ignoring his question.

“The Dragon Roll?”

He picked it up and waited on you. “Open your mouth.” He said smoothly.

You obeyed, opening your mouth, and then he placed it on your tongue, and you ate it. It was good; the burst of flavors was balanced just right with the ginger, wasabi, and soy sauce. Your eyes closed as you finished it off and then opened to Alex, he was watching you intensely. “Not bad.”

“You looked like you enjoyed it.” Alex smiled.

“Yes, she did.” Henry’s fingers pinched lightly at your shoulder. “Fancy seeing you two here.”

Those were the words you wanted to say, Henry had a habit of appearing. “Henry.”

“I was having lunch with some colleagues.” He pointed to the table full of executives and shrugged. “Enjoy your lunch, good seeing you, Arnold.”

“Alex.”

“Right.” He said abrasively, he knitted his brows and left without another word.

“Sorry, your boy toy saw that.” Alex teased and finished his last roll.

“It’s fine.” You murmured, but it wasn’t.

 The familiarity to his place was a genuine love of the place. You rarely were at your own home anymore,  you entered Henry’s home and placed your keys on the foyer table. You slipped from your shoes and tucked your keys away in the entryway stand with a smile. You could feel Henry before you saw him. His blue eyes heavy on you, and then tension was thick in the air. It didn’t shock you that Henry was awaiting you. He stood at the steps, shirtless and a stone face. “Took you long enough.” He grumbled.

“Excuse me?” You laughed.

“You don’t listen.”

“Don’t start with me.”

“I plan to start and finish with you.”

Henry lifted you from the ground and tossed you quickly over his broad shoulder. You were headed upstairs. “When was the last time you heard from Olivia?”

He placed you on your feet once you entered the familiar playroom. “Henry.”

“Just answer the question.”

You thought to yourself, it had been a month. You hadn’t heard anything from Olivia, and for once in the little shit show you called a relationship, there were no distractions. “A month.”

“She hasn’t called, you haven’t seen her, she is gone. I asked you to leave Alex alone, I didn’t ask for much.” He paused. “And you broke my rule. You always break my rules, and I take it easy on you. But now I think it’s time I teach you that breaking rules have consequences. Strip out of your clothes.” He said quickly as he turned on his heel. “I’ll be back.”

You walked around the room, every time you were in here you found something new. The various amount of plugs and whips made your head spin. It excited you. You stripped out of your clothes, the blanket of uneasiness settled over you. He seemed pissed, more than the usual.

You waited for him for ten minutes, and when the door opened, the cool breeze wafted the scent of him over to you, and immediately your nipples hardened, anxiously awaiting Henry’s plans for you.

He suspended your arms between two mahogany beams that were nailed to the ground. The leather manacles were secured around your arms and legs. The satin blindfold graced your face, and the small gag kept you from being able to speak.

“I really like seeing you this way?” Henry’s voice came from the right side of your body, but you could hear his steps as they grew closer to you. “We have a good thing going, don’t you think?” Henry’s sultry voice would have been sexy for you had you not been scared out of your mind. This was all new to you.

Your hands struggled against the leather manacle, and you mumbled against the gag in your mouth. “Ple-,” You tapped your ass with a paddle.

The smooth wood ran across the globe of your ass, and then he struck again. “Shut up.” Everything tingled, ached even. His footsteps moved to the right of the room. “You need a lesson.” Henry was back at your ear, his teeth tugging at the flesh of your earlobe. He loosened the gag from your mouth, and a slight moan escaped. “are you ready for it?” Henry removed the gag from your mouth and tapped your face with three fingers. “Y/N.”

“Yes, yes.” You stammered over your words and swallowed.

“Answer my question.” You felt the wind of the blow before the sting of the paddle. Your pussy throbbed, what the fuck was wrong with you. “in a sentence, my love.”

“I’m ready for it, sir.” You rasp. His fingers pushed passed the pillowed lips into your warmth. Then you were empty, aching for him to be back where he was. Moments passed, and then there was a cold liquid dripping down your back. Ice. You swallowed, feeling a chill rake through your body as more ice is added, and you exhale a shaky breath. A cold stream of air is blown over your clit, unexpected yet reeling you attempt to clench your legs together. It didn’t work, the manacle pulled against your skin, and you squirmed just as the old lips latched onto your clit. “Henry.”

He moaned against your clit before his tongue flicked again, and then he moved. He returned a few seconds later with an ice cube pressed to you clit sending a dull pain to your clit. You through your head back and hit the wood. He sucked, and the more he sucked, the colder your clit grew. You throbbed, and he chuckled,

Nothing was funny, the sensations running through your body had you wild. “So sensitive.” He teased and left you there panting and hoping he’d return. This was new. You caught your breath after two minutes, and your heart dropped as you began to wonder where he had gone.

“Henry.” Your voice weak and uncertain echoed, and then there were drips again down your thighs. It was hot and then cooled and hardened. Three seconds pass, and then another one hits your other thigh. You moaned. It felt good, hot, but then comforting. He splashed more, and the riding crop tapped your thighs as well, causing you to cry out. “Oh, fuck.”

“Watch that mouth.” His fingers dipped into your mouth, and you could taste the remnants of your own arousal on them before he kissed you once again. The soft paraffin wax peeled beneath his fingertips, and you relished the sensation.

Henry unshackled your legs and lifted them around his waist. Your wet clit hovered over his cock, and his eyes barred into you. “This fuck is not for you… don’t cum.” And with that, he slammed into you, the fullness itself nearly brought you to cum, but you contained it. He began his motion lifting you up and then back down to sink on his cock. Your hips moved against him because every time he thrust into you, the curved dick tapped your g-spot.

He fucked you wild, taking out all his frustrations on your plush walls, and you just hold on for your life. Your legs clamped around him, causing him to have quick strokes. And each time he pushed against your clit, the friction coaxed an orgasm from you. You bit your tongue thinking of anything to not get you there, but it didn’t work. Your body shook against him, violently as you came. Henry growled in protest as your walls sucked his dick in deeper in desire for more.

“Oh, Oh.” You said with each pump.

Henry dropped you from his waist and his cock hun in front of you, still hard and throbbing. You stared at the veined marvel as he walked over and retrieved the smallest chrome butt plug in the assortment of three. He tapped a button and lowered your arms; you felt the slight relief from it. Henry positioned you so that your ass was out for him. One finger dipped inside of you and curled. You moaned. And then mewled once the cold plug slid into your ass.

Then he slammed into you, the fullness from him and the plug had you blinded. Henry used your body for his pleasure, fucking you so hard the tingles of the orgasm radiated throughout your toes. And it continued throughout the hour, he’d fuck you only making you cum over and over until you were beyond exhausted.

 You were exhausted, arms sore, pussy throbbing, and your voice were near hoarse, but Henry had plans for you. He lowered you into the perfect tempered bath waters, and the smell of the lavender oil hit your nose. “Relax a while, pet.”

When he left, you sunk down, feeling the oil against your skin and melting into the suds that surrounded you. Something was off about him, and you could not place it. He hadn’t set one minute, and even now, you could hear him stirring about in his room. You bathed, listening to music, and then got dressed. It was now silent in the room, and you saw why. The bulk of a man lay stretched out on the bed with his head buried in the pillow. Maybe it was him that needed the real aftercare.

You didn’t bother him, he needed the sleep, and you needed hydration. Things had changed between the two of you, you’d always seen yourself with him, but now it was hard to picture a life without him. The small office next to the master bedroom ever had water stocked, and you could catch up on work. It seemed like you were behind, and no one seemed to care; you knew why, but still, you expected better from yourself. You grabbed the chilled bottled water and headed in with your priorities in line for once.  

Tapping the mouse, the screen came up, the white and black film flickered on, and it showed a room. The woman cowered in the corner, the blonde hair shrouded her face, but you could still her. It was Olivia.

“Henry,” She cried. “Let me go. Please.” She stared up at the camera, and her screams started to grow louder, so loud you could damn near swear they were in this house.

You looked up to see Henry standing with his arms folded over his chest. “What are you doing?”

“Working?”

“Looks like you’re snooping through my things.” He mumbled.

“I didn’t see anything.” You swallowed as you lie. “Sleep?” You stood up, but Henry moved towards you quickly. “Henry.”

“Stay seated.” He smiled.

But that was the last thing you wanted, you stepped from behind the desk, and he crowded you, pushing you to the wall. “what did you do to her?”

“Olivia, I am teaching her a lesson…” he said with a shaky breath. “Bad girls learn lessons.” He cleared his throat.  This did not sound like your Henry, his eyes were glazed over, and the wry smile on his lips didn’t give you butterflies just chills. “You’re starting to be bad. You understand?”

“No.” You coughed.

“Yes.” He gripped your shoulders, and your whole body shook. “And since you’re obviously not learning…” He cupped your mouth to muffle the attempted wails that flooded you. His arm wrapped around your neck. You slap at his hands, kicking your feet, but it was pointless. Everything faded to black, and you heard the last words. “I’ll teach you again.”

Henry Cavill Taglist: @oddsnendsfanfics @taytayize123 @crushed-pink-petals  @titty-teetee@sparklemichele @imgoldielikehawn @therandomthoughtsofmsparker @therealcalicali @rhys108 @shut-up-broccoli @peculiar-monstar @sincerelysinister @xxpapasfritasxx @brexrif @sheismycherry @justgrits @antoheartit @angelic-kisses13 @ikeepforgettin

@bitchwhytho @ryuzakiackerman1 @arkrimwitchout   @soapjay @szhead31 @thedarkn1ghtxx @omgkatinka @sapphirescrolls @sprinklesandsugarcubes @missdforever @superapplepie @ellaheart @greektragedyc @lovebodymindstuff @ikeepforgettin @cass-the-mess @auroussss @shikshinkwon @earl-aive @rockme-fabulous @mary-ann84 @angelic-kisses13 @wondersofdreaming @two-unbeatable-beaters

@ieshaa96 @jaykennyw @msmorganforever @buffisummerz @magdelen69 @alwaysadreamingoptimist @zejess93 @singeramg @heelsamizayn @onmykneesforloki @scuzmunkie @laricebabe @queen-sands @minton131 @sciapod @a-really-bi-girl @kittyslove  @kathhdd @tom-hollands-wife  @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @shay-rav @mereka18

@queenmalhinewahine @sweetybuzz25 @xmother-mortemx @zoogrl05 @cap-barnes @itsmydreamlifethings  @love-more122 @dearlybelovedluke @savismith @comfortingcreature @badassbaker @hell1129-blog @keiva1000 @la-meneur-louve @inthenameofrock @i-love-superhero @vivodinson @dealingwithit0214 @crowngold @violetidk @virgodmood @magic-dust @kittyatemytaco @aykanna @fcgrizi

@thewitcher-is-a-pandemic @tonictransistor @itsmydreamlifethings  @lady-out-of-time @keiva1000 @deep-in-my-thoughts13 @this-is-serenaa  @mis-lil-red @captainslasher @littlefreya​

[twoscoopsblog]

Pokémon Build & Battle Cube - Part 1

So if any of you have been following me for a while, either here or on Twitter, you know I love to draft Magic the Gathering. You probably also know my fondness of other card games, like Force of Will. But today, I want to talk about the game not built to draft, Pokémon. Pokémon is built for sealed or constructed, and I should just accept that, right? WRONG.

Pokémon can be drafted. Mark my words. It can even be cubed.

So, if you're not familiar with MtG or FoW, what is a draft? What is a cube? Allow me to explain.

A draft is a limited format, similar to sealed. You are given a number of packs (typically three or four) and sit with anywhere from four to twelve other players.

First, open your first pack. Look at all the cards. Feel them. Smell them. If this game has a guaranteed slot, take that out (like a land in MtG or an Energy in Pokemon). Then pick the card you want to keep from the pack. Pass the pack to your left. Then take the pack from the player to your right when they have made a selection. You now pick a card from their remainder. These packs will circle the table until the packs run out. Then open the next pack and go the other direction. Continue until all the packs are used up, and you have a nice stack of cards, most of which will be in one or two attributes.

Now we run into our first problem. Magic has five main colors to pick from. That means if you're aiming at being in two colors, you have ten combos to pick from. If Colorless or Snow are here, typically one pair will be meant to hang out with them, like the extra kid in a group project.

FoW is the same way - it has five attributes to pick from. These being Fire, Water, Wind, Darkness and Light. Time and Moon are like Colorless and Snow above, they just show up and hang out with another pair.

Pokemon has 9.

Of course, Colorless energy in Pokémon is like Generic is Magic or Void in FoW, in that it plays with all of them, and Dragon is always a combo. So we have 9.

9 energies means you don't have 10 combos. You have 36. That's a lot to keep track of in a draft. How can you pick between 36 things? Even if you're like "Oh, I'm totally playing Psychic" that's still only dropping you to 8 options. Meanwhile, if I was in Magic and said "I'm totally playing Blue" I'm down to 4. It's literally twice as hard to draft Pokemon without help.

Enter the Build and Battle format.

This was a format introduced in 2019, if I recall, but from what I could find, they only made four premade packs.

The idea is simple - you have three types of packs. Theme Packs are all one Energy, and you get two of these. This tells you what to take in a draft. Each theme is 9 cards, 7 Pokemon and 2 Trainers or Items.

Trainer Packs have four cards from a pool of four, but you might have duplicates. So either 2-2 or 2-1-1 or 1-1-1-1 of four generally useful trainer cards.

Draft Packs are your standard 10 card Pokemon booster. You get four of these.

So let's duplicate that for a cube! But what's a cube? A cube is a curated set of cards so you and your friends can draft repeatedly. Think of it as turning a TCG into a Deck-Building Game with friends!

So what if we made our own themes packs and card pool and trainer pool, and made a way for us to play Build & Battle with our friends repeatedly?

That's a project I already started. And here's what we're looking at.

This is a theme pack I call "Legitimate Business"

Start with two Hidden Fates Eevee

Add a Majestic Dawn Umbreon

Two Battle Styles Murkow

An Ultra Prism Honchkrow

A Vivid Voltage Sableye

And finally an Acrobike and a Billowing Smoke

And each pack will have an A and a B. The B pack is only these 9 cards. The A pack has an extra card in it. In this case

HONCHKROW GX

This would be one of your two packs for theme - so you know you want to pick up more Dark cards.

I'm excited for this project, and I hope you all can join me on the designs I make for it!

[eratobard]

Saved by the Bell: Chapter 6

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Geraskier, Geralt x Jaskier

Rating: G

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

~~~

Jaskier seemed more focused after he had eaten a few of the apple slices. Geralt found it cute how Jaskier stuck out his tongue when he was concentrating. Jaskier caught Geralt staring at him and winked, “You almost got your three done?”

Geralt averted his gaze and nodded, “Uh yes.” He had been done with the worksheet for a while.

“Great, me too!” Jaskier quickly filled out another question. “Done!” He jumped off the bed and skipped to his bedroom door, “Wanna do some cartwheels outside?”

Geralt nodded as he followed him outside. He watched as Jaskier bent forward, standing on his hands. His legs wobbled a bit as he walked around in the grass. Jaskier beamed, his face turning a bit red from the blood rushing to it, “What’s wrong? Aren’t you going to join?”

“I don’t… know how to cartwheel, or do a handstand,” Geralt mumbled.

“Oh!” Jaskier flipped back to his feet. “I can show you if you want.” Some of his hair was still stuck up in places. He pulled his shirt back down over his stomach.

“Okay…”

Jaskier held up his hands as he stood in front of Geralt, “First thing, put up your hands, and make a pose.” He stuck his right leg out and cocked his hip. He glanced over his shoulder, “The pose is important for confidence. You try.”

Geralt felt silly, but he listened anyway, putting his hands up, and attempting to mimic Jaskier’s pose. Jaskier watched him, hands on his hips, “Good, but the pose should be something you are comfortable with. You look scared.”

Geralt blushed, “I feel nervous.”

Jaskier placed his hand on his shoulders, “Don’t be. Here. Loosen up, like this.” He jumped slightly while shaking his arms and legs, rolling his neck.

Geralt exhaled while following Jaskier’s lead. He did feel a bit better. “I think I’m ready now…” He held up his hands and struck a pose. He looked more like a giant ‘X’ but it was a pose he was comfortable with. “What now?”

“Now you cartwheel!” Jaskier stood in front of Geralt again. He got into stance then rotated his body into a cartwheel. He made it look so easy. Jaskier twirled around to face him. “Ta-dah! Easy!”

Geralt frowned in concentration. He twisted to the side, but fumbled, only completing half of the cartwheel. He grunted as he tried to right himself.

Jaskier clapped in excitement, “That was a great first try! If you want to try again, I could spot you.”

“Spot me?” Geralt moved his long hair out of his face.

“Yeah, I can hold your legs, or stand by for support so you don’t fall.”

Geralt’s face grew warm at the thought of Jaskier holding onto his ankles. “Um, okay.” He moved into position again, with Jaskier facing him.

Jaskier winked, “Ready?” Geralt nodded and performed the cartwheel again. Jaskier steadied his legs and helped lead him through the cartwheel. He cheered when Geralt successfully completed it. “That was awesome! You did great.”

Geralt chuckled and shook his head, “I couldn’t have done it without you.”

Jaskier grinned, slinging his arm around Geralt, “That doesn’t take away your accomplishment. Sometimes people need help. Nothing wrong with that.”

“Julian, your break time is up. Time to get back to your homework,” Jaskier’s dad called from a window.

“Dad!” Jaskier whined, “I told you to call me Jaskier.”

“Sorry, I slipped. I’ll be more careful. Come inside. I made some lemonade.”

“Lemonade!” Jaskier cheered as he ran inside. He waved back at Geralt, “Come on, Dad’s lemonade is the best.”

The two sat at the kitchen bar as they gulped down the lemonade. Geralt hummed in contentment, “This is really good. Thank you Mr. Pankratz.”

Jaskier’s dad nodded, “No problem, glad you like it.”

Jaskier hopped down from the stool when he finished his lemonade off. “Alright! Back to work!”

“You need to finish 8 questions this time.”

“Noo~,” Jaskier flopped his head against the counter, covering his face with his arms, “That’s too many…”

Jaskier’s dad gently patted his back, “Do your best. If you need to break it up that’s fine, but try for eight.” He smiled at Geralt, “Thank you for helping Jaskier with his homework.”

Jaskier huffed and lifted his head, “I’m helping him too.”

Geralt nodded, “Yes, he is.”

Mr. Pankratz chuckled and ruffled Jaskier’s hair, “I’m glad. Try to finish up your homework. Your mother will be home soon.”

Jaskier grumbled as he adjusted his hair, “Fiiiine.” He smiled as he wrapped an arm around Geralt’s, “Let’s go finish our homework. Then we can play a game or something.”

Geralt’s skin tingled where Jaskier was touching his arm. With how affectionate Jaskier was, he thought he would have gotten used to his touch by now. It still gave him butterflies in his stomach. 

They had been working for a bit when he informed Jaskier he had to go to the bathroom. Jaskier pointed in the direction of the bathroom, “Off the right of the kitchen. You can’t miss it, but if you do, dad can point you in the right direction.”

Geralt nodded and followed where he had indicated. He was right, it hadn’t been hard to find. As he entered the bathroom, shutting the door behind him he heard a high screeching noise.

“Darling~! I’m home!”

‘It must be Jaskier’s mom,’ Geralt thought as he tried to complete his business in the bathroom.

Jaskier’s dad grunted in response. Geralt pictured Mrs. Pankratz leaning on her husband dramatically as she spoke, “Oh you brute! Is that how you greet your wife after not seeing her for so long?” Geralt imagined Jaskier’s mother was where he got most of his dramatic behavior from.

“I saw you this morning.”

Mrs. Pankratz gasped, “How cruel… where is my son? Surely he will give me the love and attention I deserve.”

“He’s in his room doing homework. He has a friend over, so try not to embarrass him.”

“Me? Embarrass him?” she sounded offended. “I would never!”

Jaskier’s dad chuckled, “I’m serious. Jaskier really seems to like this one.”

Geralt’s heart beat rapidly in his chest. He shouldn’t be listening to this, but he needed to use the restroom and his body wasn’t cooperating.

“Oh? Is that so? They’re in his room? I should go take a peak.”

Mr. Pankratz seemed to have stopped her from his displeased whine. “Jaskier is being good and concentrating on the work. I haven’t seen him so focused in a while.”

The knowledge made Geralt want to laugh. He had never seen Jaskier so unfocused…

Mrs. Pankratz huffed, “Fine… what’s he like? Is he tall? Cute? What’s his name? How long has Jaskier known him? Is it a homework date or are they hanging out as friends? Has he confessed his feelings yet?”

Her husband stopped the barrage of questions, “His name is Geralt. I’m not going to judge a growing boy’s appearance. I’m not sure about the other questions.”

“You are terrible at gathering information.” If she was anything like Jaskier, and Geralt figured she was, she was pouting right now.

“I’m not going to be your spy.”

“Traitor,” she grumbled.

“Mom! You’re home!”

Geralt groaned internally. He must have taken so long Jaskier came to check on him. His stomach gurgled from his anxiety.

Jaskier’s voice sounded muffled as his mom fawned over him, “You’re suffocating me.”

“Sorry sugar cube, I just missed you so much!”

“Dad, have you seen Geralt? He went to the bathroom a bit ago and I was checking to make sure he was okay.”

Geralt shook his head and decided to give up. He could try later. He flushed the toilet and washed his hands. Geralt exited the bathroom to see a female twin of Jaskier. Her long brunette hair curled at the ends, and framed her face nicely. Her blue eyes widened when she saw Geralt walk into the kitchen.

“You must be Geralt!” she beamed with a smile almost identical to Jaskier’s. She rushed forward and hugged him. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“Mom!” Jaskier huffed, “Geralt doesn’t like being touched.”

She gasped and pulled away, “I’m sorry dear. I forget myself sometimes.”

Geralt blushed and shook his head, “It’s fine.”

She clicked her tongue as she shook her head, “It’s not fine. I need to work better on my boundaries. I hope I didn’t bother you too much.”

Jaskier leaned on Geralt, hanging over him like a backpack, “He’s fine! Dad, is dinner almost ready? Can Geralt join us?”

Mrs. Pankratz clapped her hands excitedly, “Yes! He should join us! Geralt would you like to have dinner with us?”

“Lilia,” Mr. Pankratz’s tone was firm. “I’ve already talked to his mother. He’s having dinner with us and then we’ll take him home.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier?” Lilia placed a hand on her hip. She smiled at Geralt, “That’s wonderful. Alfred is a good cook.”

Geralt’s heart beat rapidly in his chest. He was excited to spend more time with Jaskier. Jaskier poked his cheek as he continued to lean against him, “Is that cool?”

Geralt nodded, smiling, “Yes, thank you.”

~~~

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~~~

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[narniaandplowmen]

It is not that I love you less / Than when before your feet I lay (But to prevent the sad increase / Of hopeless love, I keep away)

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Geralt/Jaskier Also on AO3 2154 words.

General Audiences / No Archive Warnings Apply Complete

Part 2 of Half a Century of Poetry

Jaskier, back in Lettenhove for the winter, considers how Geralt's words on the Mountain were unfair, but that nothing on this world can stop him from loving the Witcher anyways.

They had talked, after the Mountain. Or, well, Jaskier had talked. Geralt had been about to leave when Jaskier finally made his way down, exhausted and devastated and wounded from the lonely, perilous journey downhill. It was clear that Geralt had wanted to avoid him, but Roach, always a sucker for the sweet sugar cubes and shining apples the bard usually carried with him, had approached Jaskier on her own free will. And he had to say something, he couldn’t just stay silent. So he had given a promise. I will not come to you, but if you ever change your mind I should not be hard to find. 

And so he had. There was much that could be said about the bard, about his extravagance and tendency to ignore the rules. But if Jaskier made a promise, he made sure to keep it. Which is why he almost never made promises, regardless of what other people might think he did. Answering ‘sure’ to ‘will you promise to stay behind whilst I fulfil this contract’ meant that he is open to making that promise, but not that he is actually making it. Being part-Fae, fully noble and just generally a little shit made Jaskier proficient in finding loopholes in his so-called promises. But this? This was a real promise. And he had kept to it.

It was winter, and Jaskier had returned to Lettenhove to reunite with his sister and his nieces and nephews. The little kids were elated to see their favourite (and only) uncle, and although his brother-in-law - who had married quite above his station and continually feared Jaskier would reclaim his rightful place as heir - was less happy to see him return, his sister had welcomed him with open arms. The lands of Lettenhove looked gorgeous in the shimmering snow, white like- Jaskier bit his lip, an awful habit he had picked up since-

 Avoiding the thought was hopeless. He had tried everything to distract himself, but nothing could take away his endless, hopeless, futile lover for Geralt of Rivia, friend of humanity. His sister had noticed, of course. Damn observant, that woman. She had always been, but Jaskier was sure it had gotten even worse now that she was a mother. The Fae blood probably didn’t help either. 

‘Why don’t you write it out? That always helped you when you were younger,’ she had said one day, breaking through Jaskier’s musings of how the colour of her dress reminded him of Geralt’s eyes.

‘You don’t have to share it with me, or anyone, if you don’t want to. But it might help.’ 

So here he was, sitting in the manor’s humble library overseeing the snow-covered vineyard, with a quill in hand and paper in front of him like he was twelve, whilst longingly staring at his baby brother, who now lied next to his parents in graves covered in snow,  and younger sister, who were allowed to play outside whilst he was forced to make his homework. Now he looked down at a new generation of children. One day he had wished he could have some of his own, and he could not deny that, after Geralt had accidentally ended up with a child surprise, he had dreamed of the three of them forming a family. Nothing now could be further from the truth. Instead of living in a cottage near the sea, Geralt retiring from his Witcher business to open a smithy, Jaskier opening a school and them raising the adorable Ciri together, Geralt had refused to claim his promised child, shunned Jaskier from his life and gone off to who-knew-where to, as far as Jaskier knew, continue killing monsters for little pay. He had not come to apologise, not come to ask Jaskier to rejoin him, not come to find him at all. And so, Jaskier had kept his promise. And Jaskier had kept away. If only his heart would get the message, too. 

It is not that I love you less

Than when before your feet I lay,

But to prevent the sad increase

Of hopeless love, I keep away.

Carefully placing his quill back in the inkpot, Jaskier resumed his watch over the playful children in the snow. They had found some sticks now, and were playfighting. From his third-floor window he could hear fragments of their conversation.

‘You -- monster!’

‘I wanna be the Witch--’

‘--ys get to be the Witcher!’

‘Because the Witchers are -- cle Jaskier says so!’

‘I don’t want to be a kimimomo! I don’t want to be the bad --’

Jaskier smiled at little John’s mispronunciation of the monster’s name. The kids, inspired by Jaskier’s songs, had taken to playing ‘Wicher and Monster’, with dramatic fake-out deaths and some accidental real injuries. It seemed that, even in the quiet, boring lands of Lettenhove, Jaskier could not avoid being reminded of the man he loved so dearly. The snow as white as his hair, his sister’s yellow dresses, the wolf statues at the entrance of the property, the children’s play, the notes with unfinished lyrics describing Geralt’s heroic actions Jaskier had left behind during previous stays… Every day there was something, no matter how small, that reminded him of the man he had lost. The soup that tasted exactly like that served in the inn where he had first been allowed to wash the Witcher’s hair. The snide remarks from his brother-in-law that seemed to come straight from Geralt’s vocabulary.  Filavandrel’s lute, greeting him whenever he entered his room. Everything around him was another tiny dagger piercing through his skin, making its way to his heart and cutting yet another piece of it in half. 

In vain (alas!) for everything

Which I have known belong to you,

Your form does to my fancy bring,

And makes my old wounds bleed anew.

It had been late spring when they had parted. It felt like they had barely reunited after winter, during which Geralt had visited his strange Witcher castle Jaskier was never invited to and Jaskier had spent his days teaching Ciri and nights playing his music at the Cintran court. And although he loved the court, Calanthe’s murderous glares when he accidentally mentioned Geralt had made him nervous enough to be happy when spring arrived and he could leave again, back on the road, following the person holding his rapidly-beating heart without even being aware of it. The dragon hunt had only been their fourth contract of the year, and after- After, when summer still stretched in front of him for another six long months, everything had felt off. 

Sure, he had travelled, sang his songs at inns and bars and the occasional manor. Sure, he had met up with other bards, competed in a couple of sing-offs, written a handful of new songs which gained instant popularity. Sure, he had lived the life any normal, travelling bard did. But he wasn’t normal now, was he. He was Jaskier, Bard Extraordinaire, the best songwriter and lute-player on the Continent. His audience’s words, not his. He knew there was always something to be improved upon: a lyric that could be better, a beat he missed, a chord he botched. His audience might not notice, but he most certainly did. He would make quite an awful bard if he didn’t, after all. So, even though he did everything any other travelling bard would do, those six months had been strange. He had automatically found himself drawn to notice boards, turning around to inform Geralt of a contract only to be, once again, reminded the man was not there. No rhythmic sound of hooves touching the dirt during the day, no scraping noise of someone sharpening their sword near the campfire during the evening, and just his own breath breaking the silence of the night. It had been as if the world was ill, asleep in bed trying to fend off a fever that caused strange, surreal visions that gave everything normal a slightly sickly hue. Maybe his sister was right, maybe writing would help heal his broken heart.

Who in the spring from the new sun

Already has a fever got,

Too late begins those shafts to shun,

Which Phœbus through his veins has shot.

The playful screams of the children in the snow briefly silenced as the cheery voice of Molly the Cook called out that dinner was almost done. Jaskier knew that one of the kids would knock on his door soon, giving Uncle Jaskier the same message. Three stanzas in just as many hours, a poor yield for a poet of his stature. A sudden rage overtook him as he looked down at the half-empty paper. The words Geralt had thrown at him on the Mountain had felt fair at first, but after moping about them for while, Jaskier had realised that Geralt had been incredibly unfair. Him, shovelling Geralt’s shit? Yes, shovelling it out of his stable and onto the compost pile where it belonged. It was Geralt who created the shit around him, making stupid wishes that endangered the people around him, invoking the law of surprise less than fifteen minutes after learning Parvetta was a child surprise herself. Surely the Witcher knew that child surprises tended to give birth to child surprises, surely he smelled that Parvetta was pregnant to begin with. Even Jaskier had noticed that Parvetta had worn an unusual, slightly-out-of-style dress clearly intended to hide her abdomen. If Geralt had not been so incredibly self-centred, so incredibly self-absorbed and emotionally stunted he would have realised that his words were absolute bullshit. It had been Jaskier who had calmed Calanthe enough to not send hundreds of assassins after Geralt. It had been Jaskier who had tried to take the djinn away so the clearly exhausted Witcher would not do anything stupid. His wishes might have sounded idiotic, but they were clearly and precisely phrased, his mother had taught him enough about Fae magic for him to know djinns were just as tricky, if not worse, to deal with. Yes, Jaskier had shovelled the shit, but it was not his fault Geralt liked to dive into every single heap of manure he met. So no, what Geralt had said had not been fair. But by the time Jaskier had gathered enough of his wits to realise that, the Witcher had long been gone, and Jaskier’s promise had already been made. 

Too late he would the pain assuage,

And to thick shadows does retire;

About with him he bears the rage,

And in his tainted blood the fire.

The sound of a wildly thrown-open door and a young boy’s voice shouting his name calmed the bard’s sudden anger. 

‘UNCLE JASKIER DINNER’S READY MOLLY SAYS YOU NEED TO WASH YOUR HANDS!’ Little John, still carrying his stick, now ran into view. 

‘Did Molly also say you were allowed to take your sword inside?’

‘A Witcher always carries his swords with him, you told me so! And I am a Witcher, not a stupid kimino- kimomo-’

‘Kikimore,’ Jaskier helpfully supplied.

‘Yes that. Will you tell Eddy? Will you tell him I’m a Witcher? I don’t want to be a monster, the snow is cold and wet when I fall down to die.’ 

Jaskier smiled at his youngest nephew’s petulant face. ‘Only if you put your sword back outside. True gentlemen don’t carry their swords to the dinner table, not even Witchers. Come, we’ll place it in the stables to keep it safe, and then we go wash our hands together, okay?’

‘Okay, uncle Jaskier. Can I sit next to you during dinner?’

‘Of course you can.’

Jaskier smiled at the young boy stretching out his arms to be picked up. If only life could stay that easy, with simple concerns like cold snow and fake swords. Jaskier knew, after all,  it was impossible for him to stay angry. How could he hate the one he loved? The one who had, unknowingly, carried his heart for the past two decades, and would carry it for eternity and beyond? He would keep his promise to the Witcher, he would stay in his self-imposed exile, no matter the cost. A promise is a promise, after all. And just as he would keep the promise he had made to Geralt whilst feeding Roach that final, slightly crushed sugar cube, he would keep the promise he had made to himself whilst walking down the first mountain he and the Witcher had climbed to fight a supposed devil. I will love you till my dying days. 

And, as he placed his nephew on his back, joking that ‘this horse will lead the noble Witcher to the stables,’ Jaskier mentally composed the final stanza he had struggled with for so many hours. 

But vow’d I have, and never must

Your banish’d servant trouble you;

For if I break, you may distrust

The vow I made to love you, too.