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inventors-fair · 2 years ago

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Common Criminal Commentary

Well, there’s some alliteration/consonance for you!

I’d like to say this contest was harder than a lot, but you guys ended up doing a pretty good job. For the most part, everyone did something I mentioned in my article. Everything had alternate costs or bonus abilities or was usable at any point in the game where you hit three colors. Good job!

There were definitely a lot of trends I noticed. Shield counters were very common, probably because they were a single mechanic that was already on a bunch of mechanics but that did a lot of work. Shield counters perform very differently on different types of creatures. One issue that came up a few times was cards that make both shield counters ans +/+1 counters, and I’ll warn you now, I commented on all of them saying it was a bad idea. It just leads to board states that are very hard to track.

In gneral the green-white factions were the most popular, which make ssense since they have a lot of mechanical overlap. There weren’t any casualty cards and only two maestro cards at all. There weren’t any alliance cards, but a lot of cards clearly designed around triggering alliance. So yeah, very imbalanced mix of families, but all were represented.

@col-seaker-of-the-memiest-legion - Cabaretti Loyalist

I half expected that flavor text to mean there was a sacrifice ability on the token. Anyway, here’s a 2 mana 1/2 with some upside. It can either make a token, become a 2/3, or both! Getting two bodies at once is really nice for those alliance triggers that become more powerful the second time like Sizzling Soloist. A 2 mana 2/3 is equally on the curve, and in fact there’s already one in the set that can be cast for GW. Getting both effects is very sweet, though interestingly it’s impossible to do on turn two, at least if you don’t play one of the not-triomes on turn 1. It is actually a bit of a shame how this card sort of disincentivizes you from playing the tapped lands that draw you cards. This set had a lot of land-based fixing, and while the sac-lands do fetch out basics, they enter tapped, and sometimes you might play one to get mana you need and accidentally miss out on the triggers of these guys. Or, worse yet, you might play two cabaretti courtyards to get a mountain and plains to turn on the effects and trick yourself into not getting green. Maybe I’m being overdramatic, though. I just imagine if this were a whole cycle it might lead to some poor deckbuilding. I think this card is fine and has big kird ape vibes, I’m just not a fan of it personally.

@dabudder - Riveteers Repository

If you recall, the last card to let treasure make more mana was the rare Xorn, and before that was the mythic Goldspan Dragon, so I think a common that lets your treasures generate extra mana, even only once per turn, is too good. The card pays for itself the turn you play it, or you can have access to 7 mana on turn 4. This card is way, way too good. Beyond that, there’s also some weirdness in that the mana this artifact generates wouldn’t technically be generated by the treasure, so you can’t use it for effects that get bonuses if you spend mana from treasures. I also don’t like how all or nothing this card is. It generates a ton of mana a maximum of two times before it needs to be fed some other treasures. I don’t think this is a card that would see print, and even at other rarities it seems a little too high variance.

@deg99 - Pit Brawler

A strange little card, but I think it works. I like the trick with blitz where the menace is either the red or black part depending on how you cast it and same with trample and green. The fact that you likely spent both colors anyway because it’s 4 mana kind of takes away from that, but I could maybe see a player playing this is one of the neighboring families. One weird thing, though, is that I wish the easier to cast cost were the one on top. WotC has learned that players will look at the main casting cost and put the rest of the card out of their mind if they can’t play it, so it would be nice to have the easier version up top. I also don’t think it much matters in this case, since both versions of this card are pretty equally powered. Normally blitz is cheaper, but the fact that this guy can power up himself with his ETB kind of changes that. I also kind of wish this card just gave one creature both abilities. It would really help simplify the card, and unless your creature already has one of those, you’re likely to just put both on the same creature anyway if it’s your biggest creature. Choosing how to split it up would cause some amount of delay if a player were trying to maximize damage, even though it would likely not change much in the end. So while I like a lot of the parts of this card, I don’t think it quite gets there in the end.

@demimonde-semigoddess - Aquarium Aficionado

Hey, more fish. I do love those tokens, both flavor and functionality. I don’t know if repeatably making fish is great idea, though. They’re quite good, and turning any land into a fish is going to be pretty great. There are also some synergies with connive and discard and all the other graveyard stuff. The fact this is four mana, though, means it’s unlikely to take over the game like it would if it were basically any cheaper. Now, though, I have some bad news. You didn’t put any power or toughness on this. I’m sorry. I think the card is neat, but it is sadly unfinished.

@dimestoretajic - Contracted Sous-Chef

This card has a lot of text on it for a common. Reading that ability kept throwing me in loops. I think it says that if you spent treasure mana to cast it, this basically gets an alliance ability that then pings things and gains you life? But it’s very unclear. If that is what it does, then it’s very, very conditional. Treasures are also not really a cabarettit thing, but a RG thing, so having one cabaretti card that does it would send confusing signals in a draft. The ability is also very confusingly worded and does very little. Why not just let this ping something and gain a life when it enters? It doesn’t even need the treasure part if you ask me. This is just very confusing.

@evscfa1 - Cabaretti Night Club

This card does not belong at common, and might just be too strong in general. Forbidden Orchard sees a lot of play in older formats for its combo potential and perfect mana. An untapped tri-land is very powerful, and the downside can be turned into upside fairly easily. All that to say there’s so much going on here for a card so likely to show up in any pack. I think maybe if it only gave one citizen but gave it when it was played it might be more balanced, but I still don’t think it would be common.

@fractured-infinity - Send a Message

Art Description: Looking over the shoulder of two figures silhouetted by a spatter of blood on a wall. A streetlamp illuminates a body on the ground. One of the figures is holding a knife out to the other handle first and gesturing towards the corpse.

It’s tough to beat murder as a common unconditional removal spell, but this is certainly trying its hardest. Honestly, even without the extra step, this is fine. Four mana hard removal at sorcery is still something a lot of decks would play. I like how, if you’re playing obscura or riveteers, you still might be able to splash that third color off of treasures or a one-of Glamorous Outlaw. The extra text in question is nice, but a little strange. It’s a red bonus and a blue bonus, but you need to spend BOTH to get them. I was a little surprised this wasn’t phrased like those hybrid cards from shadowmoor like Torrent of Souls or Batwing Brume, where each color provides its bonus when that specifically is spent. I’d rather it be one specific ability that feels both red and blue, or feels Grixis in total. I also wonder if 5 mana destroy target creature + draw a card alone is just too good at common. So far, the only removal spell at common that draws a card is You Are Already Dead, unless you count bounce spells or tiny burn spells. That makes me think that it’s not a good idea. Removal and card draw are both very valuable, so putting both on the same card is probably just too good. Still, conceptually very good, just too strong and could use some more granular abilities.

GlassBass - Reinforcement Agent

A very simple and effective common. I’d have to assume this would be part of a cycle, since discard effects are kind of weird to do as one-ofs at common, but I could easily see four more of these. It’s a very nice way to provide use for this card if you aren’t hitting your mana right. However, I wish the non-discard mode were a little bigger. A 2 mana effect or a 3 mana effect is close enough that some players might not discard it because they’ll assume they’re going to draw their forest in another turn or two. I think even one more mana would have made it feel a little more like two choices. This is especially true for shield counters, since a shield counter will protect a creature, which is surprisingly similar to playing a creature. I think you also maybe could have been a little more experimental with the body, since it requires all three mana but gives you a below-curve creature with a single ability available in any of the colors. I could see ward or some sort of evasion being appropriate. But I still can’t say I dislike this card. If I saw this in a pack of SNC I wouldn’t be surprised, but I also often wouldn’t be tempted by it in a draft.

@helloijustreadyourpost - Unwanted Guest

A 3/3 for 3 in red that must attack is an old standby so far as commons go, and I think this set is a good one for it, since the red decks are very aggressive, but there’s also a small powers matters theme in maestros that wants undercosted bodies. It’s a shame that this card that works so well with the maestros mechanic is not asking for it. Instead, it’s meant for a cabaretti deck, which is fine. After all, you can still casualty a light em up and pay the extra, or a Join the maestros if you’re playing riveteers and have a spare treasure around for the white mana. It’s also kind of funny that the GW payment gives you citizens, which is the color combo doing citizen tribal, but you need to be playing red in the first place to get this guy out there. It makes sense, but it also doesn’t really let you stick with the two color theme. I’ll also say that there’s some awkward play patterns with death trigger payments, since the timing isn’t very clear for some players and it’s tough to know when to leave up the mana, especially in a format with so much haste and other things you want to play pre-combat, but papercraft decoy exists so I might be wrong. Oh, and I should mention I do like the flavor of it, and there’s actually some neat detail in it. The two other families with red in their color also have black, which is where most ogres are, so cabaretti is the only family that has access to ogres but can’t play most of them, so a card that depicts an ogre being allowed into but not wanted in the family is kind of cute. I think this card has a good baseline, but some of the color and timing might be awkward for some players.

@hiygamer - Jetmir’s Entourage

This card looks to me like you were trying very hard to hit a lot of specific notes. A 1/1 that comes with a 1/1 is two mana, the mana cost is like that of a cycle from a previous shard set, and red and white both get first strike so it has first strike. But it comes together very strangely. I think having first strike in a set with shield counters is nice, since it can break the shield than let normal damage from the citizen or more likely another creature land the killing blow, but a 1/1 just feels really small. There are some pump effects in the set, but cabaretti is supposed to be go wide not tall, so you’re not really meant to make this guy big enough for first strike to be more useful unless you’re splashing for some of the +1/+1 counters in Riveteers or Brokers. I do think a 2 mana card that can double trigger alliance is really cool and useful for all those “if this is the second time this has triggered” effects like Rumor Gatherer, but if that were the main goal of this card, I’d rather this be an instant or have some effect to take advantage of those triggers, like haste. Nothing about this card is wrong, and I think it would look fine in a pack of SNC, but something about it doesn’t seem to come together nicely.

@horsecrash - Jinnie’s Bodyguard

So, the cost is a little funky, but I don’t think it’s that hard to figure out. It is a little weird in that the color you need for sure is also the color you need the least of, so it’s like, I need one forest, but then I also need two of the other two, so it’s hard to know what to prioritize when deckbuilding or fetching with cabaretti courtyard. The body it gives you, a 3/2 first strike trampler, is fine, nothing amazing, though this is a set with jewel thief so it’s hard to make comparisons. Then we get to that alternate casting cost. I don’t understand it. I know what it does, but it’s very strange to me. It lets you cast this spell at a one mana discount if you have already gotten all your colors? I figured the reward for having all the right mana in play was that I get to play this card. I think if I were doing it I might say “this spell costs R less to cast if you control a red creature” and the same for white. Something to really feel like a reward, rather than a single mana discount. It’s also a shame that there’s no RW creature in the set except for ones that already have green in them, so you can’t get the discount unless, again, you’ve already hit your perfect mana. It doesn’t feel rewarding enough to be a reward, and it’s too narrow and difficult to be an alternative way to cast it.

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes - Crucible Workers

Art direction: We are in the Mezzio, between a construction site and Nido Sanctuary, the Brokers' headquarters. On the left, honest work is going on. On the right, a bunch of muscular viashinos are looking menacingly towards some birds, cephalids and humans, Brokers solicitors, pressed against one of their headquarters' wall. The viashinos all have maces, steel bars, wrenches, hammers pointing downwards, with molten metal dropping from them, forming a pool on the street.

I like this card, but something about how it plays out bothers me. I like the fact that it specifically calls out treasure, which is a nice way to allow players to fix their mana for a three color card, but it also means that this card doesn’t really act all that much like a three color card. You can play it in any deck that makes treasure, and if you do play it in a three color deck but don’t get the treasure rider, then it’s just a vanilla 4/6. I like the body, and giving it a kill effect on ETB is a good way to make the high mana value and tough color restrictions worth it, but the treasures undercut that. It also encourages you to ramp this out, and playing this on turn 5 or especially 4 is going to be back-breaking. Also, treasure is a red-green thing, so requiring black is weird. I really wish this just let you sacrifice any permanent on ETB to get the effect. I really liked this card when I first read it, but I don’t like the play pattern it generates.

@misterstingyjack - Notorious Notary

I’m still trying to make up my mind on this card as I read it. At first I was wondering why not just make it cost 2W, since it needs the other colors in order to do something anyway, but then I realized it’s probably a good idea to not even let players run this out as a vanilla 2/2 for 3. I also kind of wish the blue and white were swapped, just because shield counters feel more white, but brokers are base white so it makes more sense in the grander set and also if it were a cycle. The one thing I’m certain of is I’m not a fan of having two ETB triggers that look similar but perform differently. I could very easily see a player playing this guy for all three colors, saying “I’ll put a counter here and a counter here, then attack with everybody” and then moving to combat without being exactly clear which creatures are getting which counters. Even on an empty board where this guy puts counter on himself it gets awkward. If you play this guy turn 3, then two turns later you look at it and it has a counter on it, are you going to remember which counter it is? Were you missing a color when you cast him, or did your shield counter break, or did you put the counter on it later? It’s just a little messy, especially at common where you might have multiple of these in play at the same time. I understand why these effects are linked and how it would affect the game, but I think it might cause a bit too much confusion.

@nine-effing-hells - Wings of Obscura

Oh hey, gift of orzhova but for obscura! But it’s blue and loots and the +1/+1 is only if you ditch a nonland, which makes it very different. Gatecrash was the first prerelease I went to and let me tell you: flying and lifelink on your biggest creature is a beating. On Serra’s Wings from Dominaria was similar, and also an uncommon. So yeah, more powerful than I’d like at common. Beyond that, seems okay. The colors work out okay, though you could probably have it in any two combinations of the colors and it be fine. The connive helps with the aura card disadvantage problem, though the card just being strong does more. It’s nothing new, but it fits in the colors and does well enough in the set, though I wish it had more synergy. Obscura doesn’t really have any life gain synergies, aura synergies (other than that one double strike guy, sort of), or flying other than just being in the right colors for it. Still the cards fine, just too strong.

@real-aspen-hours - Table for Two

Art direction: an elf and a devil are being served dinner at a cabaretti establishment, as evidenced by Rocco, the uncommon cabaretti legend, in the background, and by the red green and white color of the decor.

This is very nice night out for these two. I like making two different tokens on the same card, it always has a cool effect on the game, even if it can sometimes get confusing. The card as a whole is a... I forget the name, but I think Maro calls it kitchen sink card? Or mix and match? Basically, it’s a three color card that does one thing of each color. Making a creature is green, making a devil specifically is red, and lifegain is white. It’s fine, but I think this card is a little weak when you remember it’s three color. Three color cards are hard to cast on turn three, so this really wants to be a card that’s useful at later stages in the game when you do hit your colors, and I just don’t see that. If you can’t cast this till turn 6, then you’re getting some chump blockers and maybe some alliance triggers. The lifegain is also flavorful but not very mechanically useful except when you’re already behind. It seems like this card wants to help you go wide in the early game, but the tougher mana cost plus lifegain means it’s better later, so it’s tough to know what this card’s role is in a game.

@reaperfromtheabyss - Cabaretti Crest

Art Direction: Focus on an ornate brooch on a jungle green silk handkerchief with a small calling card. Both the brooch and the calling card have the Cabaretti family symbol.

Hey, a colorless fixing card! Glad to see someone made it. The 3 mana rock for three colors is a tried and true tradition, and this card’s version of upside is conditional draw while still fixing. That’s… very strange. Imagine if you were cabaretti and only had three mountains in play by turn 4. Would you sacrifice this to cast a 3 color card? I don’t think you’d ever really want to use that second ability for fixing unless you were in a very dire position, but I guess that’s still an option. The “exactly three colors” text is in line with some of the other cards in the set (well, Paragon of Modernity and a mythic, so maybe not) but weirdly makes this card kind of best when playing four colors? I guess that’s not much of a stretch, people can and will do that, it’s just weird to see. If you were only splashing for white in a riveteers deck, you can spend RGB to get RGW for that Jetmir you picked up in pack 3. The expected outcome, though, is that you spend RGW to crack it for RGW essentially giving you a 0 mana card draw, sort of like a mix of the banners and commander’s sphere. Sure. I’ll be honest, it seems a little hard to understand for such a simple effect. I’d rather it say something like tap, sac, draw a card, activate this only if you control each of the land types / a 3 color permanent / a red, green, and white creature, etc. Something simpler to check. I also don’t know if drawing one card is good enough any more. People seemed to like the lockets a lot more than the cluestones, so maybe this needed something more. I think this is fine, and would fit okay into a pack, it just feels like it could do a little more a little less strangely.

@shakeszx - Brokers Contract

This is a very strange card. It’s effectively a two mana treasure that lets you scry 1. I don’t quite know what this card is trying to do. The scrying is nice, especially in colorless, so it helps you hit your colors, but it also ramps you from 2 on turn two to 4 on turn 3 and I don’t know why. The fixing even feels kind of secondary. I kind of wish it were a treasure, even though it can’t tap for all colors, just so that it could have some more synergy. Right now it just feels like it’s sort of… there. I think if this were three mana and stuck around as just a mana rock I wouldn’t mind it, but as a weird one-shot ramp card it feels like it’s either going to let you play something powerful a turn early or put you down a card for a scry, and neither of those are good choices.

@walker-of-the-yellow-path - Ziatora’s Enforcer

Oh wow, I don’t know how I never considered a card like this being entered. A vanilla 5/3 for 5 in red is pretty normal, though I don’t think most people would play it in this day and age, but it’s an option. The blitz is the fun part here, providing trample and menace! Which is stuff red can do anyway. I think the blitz cost wanted to be a hybrid mana cost of some time. Right now, you can only really blitz this in a riveteers deck anyway, so giving an alternate way to cast it is only really helpful if you are specifically missing red, but the set is built in such a way that that’s the easiest color to get. I.E. If you have a 3 color deck, then there are two different dual lands you can draft, and both tap for red. I would have suggested to just make the blitz cost be all three colors rather than trying to get cute, or to make it cost hybrid red mana. It just feels so weird to cast a red spell with non-red mana and get a red effect anyway. It doesn’t really show the strengths of the other colors or what they are offering.

@wolkemesser - Lounge Lizard

A burly female viashino in worker's overalls reclines at a booth in a caberetti bar, arms around a companion to either side. She is brandishing a mug of halo in one hand, and singing along to the music as rowdy dancers and party-goers, many also in work clothing, cavort around the booth. The mood is of a raucous happy hour, right after the day shift has ended.

I’m sorry, but this card doesn’t fit the contest this week. This is a four color card that can be cast in three colors, but is not a three color card. I also don’t think cards like this are something you should do at common, because they’re hard to interpret. That’s one reason I didn’t allow them.

@yourrightfulking - Retained Defender

I really like this card, but I think there’s two missteps you made with it. But first, I’ll say I like it. A payoff for shield counters is a cool idea, and it encourages players to play a little more aggressively with them, rather than holding back like I’ve noticed happens a lot in drafts. I also think the stats are nice, a 3/3 for 4 whose abilities are good enough to make up for it, at least in my opinion. So here’s my two problems: First, UG is a really strange casting cost. It means that you can basically only play this in a broker’s deck anyway, so it’s not really that much easier to cast than something that cost all three colors. It also gives strange signals to new drafters, since it’s not as open of a 2-color pair as allied colors. My second issue is that it’s sad that they can’t trigger themselves. I like that the last ability sacrifices, it feels appropriate and lets you do fun blocking stuff, but it’s just a shame that a card that cares about shield being used can only grant shields by removing itself from play. I don’t think it breaks the card or anything, and it would have to change a lot to make it work differently, it’s just awkward. But other than those two, I like the card. I think everything is balanced well and the concept is good, I just think there’s some mistakes that only occur on a grander scale.

Phew, that’s everything! See you guys next time!

-Mod Mr. ShinyObject

#mtg #magic the gathering #custom magic card #inventor's fair #commentary #common criminal

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seb-owns-these-tatas · 4 years ago

Text

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 16.1)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8) (GUESS WHAT? IT AIN’T SATURDAY TODAY! LMAO)

CHAPTER 16

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: The best part has finally come to an end, life aren’t all smiles and rainbows. Now, here comes the negativity that will surely eat you whole with the life you have with the witcher.

Warnings: Fluff! Kinda’ Dad! Geralt? Slight. Cirilla being such a sweetheart? Jaskier being Jaskier. Mention of blood. Insecure and overthinking reader. Mention of Yennefer and Renfri.

Words: 8k+

A/N: This should’ve been posted last saturday. But, life happened so here it is. I should’ve been taking a break but I think I’ll have my break next saturday instead. Think of this as if I just gotten late to post this chapter for you, bb’s! Though, there will be no update on June 27 instead!

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW. It was the day where Geralt was back on his wild hunt. He'd procrastinated more than he can ever plead for; taking him days with his family was better than having none as the lone witcher would leave with nothing but his horse and sword like the good ol' days.

Other times, he'd have Jaskier in his trips when the bard was too restless to stay and guard Cirilla---it has been two years for doing so---and he would complain about how tedious Geralt would tell his stories about slaughtering such a specific beast. The toubadour wanted to experience and see everything happen before his eyes regardless of his fear for such.

Which leaves Cuthbert and his family for taking care of the princess. Besides, Geralt thought it would be better that people wouldn't see Cirilla living in their home from time to time, as it can also complicate how she would be found because she didn't need to be.

But, with you around; there has to be somebody that was needed to guard and take care of his child of surprise; leading the preferable options down to you because you knew how a girl works and how their mind moves rather than with Jaskier who always welcomes him home with arguments about nonsense things together with his child of surprise. Complaining how she'd intentionally stomped on his foot because of how she was confined in their home all the darn times till how his cooking was abnormally awful rather than Geralt's.

No matter how uneasy Geralt was with leaving everyone alone, he needed to sacrifice the worries away for his family and choose the safety for the people. Even if it would take him days to bask in his solitude with Roach whom he would have as his silent companion.

The witcher was getting ready for his hunt today. He was checking on stuffs that were utterly important not to forget. Elixirs. Herbs. Equipment. Weapons. Geralt continued to place his things inside his bag before a soft piece of parchment has brushed off his fingertips, making him stop from rummaging inside his bag to snatch it out.

It was the drawing he retrieved from the gallants he'd fought. The broken sketch of you and him together, taken from being scoured by the royal guards because he was needed for a favor that could help the kingdom and its heir.

Fucking people who kept on needing him all the damn time. He silently spewed blasphemy over and over inside his head for making his life more complex than it ever was with Destiny laughing on his side.

Especially that he was finally accepting what it brings to him. You.

He'd taken one last look on the paper before tucking it inside his bag; in a safe place where it wouldn't be destroyed before he'd heard familiar stealthy footsteps padding closer to where he stood beside his horse.

"Geralt,"

Jaskier has taken what the witcher has fetched him to, showing the contents of what laid on his palms before his brooding friend has taken it with a begrudging look that says he woke up on the bad side of the bed today.

Though, the bard was sure he did because of the perception that he needed to leave you alone in his chambers.

Geralt has given him a sharp look which has taken aback Jaskier who seemed to be surprised in such the break of dawn, ceasing his yawn when he'd received such surprising antagonism. He saw the blank stare he'd given him, thoroughly stupefied from whatever sauciness he was trying to give.

Jaskier could even notice how he was more quiet and grumpier than usual first thing in the morning. An unusual state of the witcher when you came along because he was finally talking more after getting some sleep.

"What’s going on, Geralt? Did something happened? I thought friends trust each other! You know you can trust me on this---anything! Is Roach dying? do you need another horse?"

The monster-slayer raised a sassy brow at his friend, looking away as he went on to obtain the items that laid on Jaskier's hands. His hands abnormally heavy as their hands grazed each other; letting the bard know that there was something more to it other than the idea that you would be away from him.

"Should I ask you the same thing?" he deeply grumbled, sounding like a snarl that has caught Jaskier off guard.

His talkative friend appeared to be wounded from his silent grudges that he held out for him. Jaskier couldn't help but scrunch his face in utmost perplexity, feeling aggravated for what attitude Geralt has been giving him when all he had been doing was help him in such a crazy, early hour of the morning.

He won't be taking his attitude when he was still heavy-eyed from trying to get his sleep last night. Reasons why he couldn't was because his room was beside yours and the insatiable witcher. Technically, his suggestions that have been approved sometimes hit him in the head like a boomerang; he didn't think it through that his advice can bring him results where he would suffer.

Geralt and his shitty, overly developed libido.

"But, I don’t have a horse! Why are you---Oh! Ohohoho. You were being sarcastic! I know you---know the differences of those monotones of your verbose timbres. Everybody should applaud me for it," Jaskier scornfully laughed, annoyed by how the witcher has been acting. He held onto his hips, shoulders rolled as his head fell back while he sarcastically laughed, feeling the swift breeze of the morning fog giving him a whiplash as Geralt walked pass him to fix Roach's reigns. The toubadour has turned on his heels to see the subtle swerving of topic by staying silent and minding his own business.

"---I'm utterly not in the mood for your grouchy attitude, Witcher! You sound like you are accusing me of something I shouldn’t have done!"

Roach gave a nicker as she heard two friends share their squabbles; being immature over not sharing what one has a problem over the other.

"You sound guilt-ridden." Geralt bluntly stated, ignoring the bard who has sauntered in front of him with an offended face. His friend seem to be lost at words from where ever his hostility is coming from.

Jaskier tried thinking it through, cocking his head to the side as he stood before the brooding witcher. He hadn't been too intrusive the past few days nor did he try and get his patience boiling. In all honesty, the bard has set a good amount of space around Geralt when you came in their lives. Reaching to the point that Geralt spends his time with you and Cirilla a lot more than him.

Though, there were the times where Jaskier gets to spend more time with you than Geralt when he was being the complicated mutant he is, sharing banters with you that ends up in a wrestling match because of how he kept on spitting jests that rattles the kindness you ought to have.

The witcher knew Jaskier blushed when he’d accidentally tackled you to the ground from choking him with all your might as you used your arms. The bard’s weight bringing you down when he tried battling with your physical blitz of ripostes. Geralt couldn’t help but purse his lips at that as he watched you wrestle with his annoying bard who had a palpitating heart from being flustered over you.

Jaskier likes you and he was sure about that.

"W-What---Oh! what a fuckin’ crass you are! What do you even mean?!" he bellowed and stammered, sounding and looking utterly lost. Pretty ocean blue eyes demanding for answers over what grudges he was holding; dramatically raising a hand for thespian gestures.

"Does she look like Booker? No. I suppose not. The cavalier you were fond with was horrible," Geralt sounded too straightforward, never known to sprinkle his words with flowery vernacular that would consider him kind and nice. He gave out a loud, audible sigh; giving him a nonplussed look.

No matter how rude he sounded, his eyes had a look of defiance and understanding. The witcher wasn't mad at the fact that Jaskier has taken a liking towards his midget. No. Geralt knew better than to be enraged over feelings he couldn't control; much so to himself despite of hating the strong feelings he was having over you.

Besides that, Jaskier was his friend. He respected you and Geralt because he knew what was coming forth between the both of you. Like a masochist, even to the point of helping you and the white wolf build the relationship that was bound to happen sooner or later.

Julian Alfred Pankratz just knew you were both endgame from the moment Geralt of Rivia have saved you from those scoundrels. What stated his facts correct was the subtle glimpses that the witcher has been giving you whenever you were around or near their presence; staring when you least expect him to and caring when you needed to be fostered.

Your existence had Geralt thoroughly interested for what and who you were and his friend could visibly see that.

Hence, right at this moment; it was his time to look obvious towards the ivory haired witcher over his one-sided attraction he had for you.

"I should've known, Jaskier. Your gestures aren't exactly subtle."

Geralt shook his head when he lately realized that, clasping a hand over Jaskier's shoulder to give a firm pat; respecting whatever he felt for you. If he wanted to continue those unrequited feelings, it was fine. But, the gesture from him was a silent discussion that he won't be backing down nor stepping away to give the him the opportunity to become what Geralt is already to you.

"I beg your pardon---? Shouldn't you be attacking me with your little tricks already?---I mean, right! Yeah." Jaskier started and stammered at the same time, but was cut off by a terse statement.

"Never leave her side as much as I would."

Geralt gave another light pat to his shoulder before he walked around him, treading over the front door to retrieve two flasks of water and your special Ale that he somehow needed to bring because it reminded of you. The bard trailed behind him, following his footsteps till he was hunched over to get them.

"Geralt, if I may ask---but I hope you wouldn't punch me in the gut after this. The Djinn, obviously was a snake in the lake. What will happen to her now?"

Jaskier just couldn't help but shut his mouth now, does he? he thought at the back of his mind, silently cursing for even bringing it up for him to remember.

The witcher stood up with a long drag of his breath; sounding surfeited by how his mind worked. He was in deep ponder over knowing that his friend had taken the hots for you too, yet he appeared to sound like he was pushing you away soon that he knew Geralt was thoroughly enamored.

"Now, you want her to go." he deadpanned, nettled by what he was suggesting. His eyebrows tightly crossed together from how cretinous it sounded, "---I've been told by a daft of a bard to keep the rat when I was finding a shitty Djinn,"

Geralt couldn't accept what he was hearing. He didn't need to hear this question especially when he was leaving for a hunt. The latter was finally trying to accept what destiny holds out for him, testing what would happen with you around; thinking if it was even a smart decision for him to not challenge fate for the second time around.

It was probably for the better before any sacrifices can happen. Though, why was he even being questioned when he's finally having momentous moments with you?

Geralt gravelly hummed in displeasure, walking away from his friend as he said out loud with a brooding demeanor, moon over by what questioned he received when he'd only done what everybody wanted from him.

"You smell of heartache, rejection and bewilderment, bard."

Jaskier looked utterly wounded from receiving such spiteful words.

"O-Oh! You just didn't quote me that, witcher! You are beyond frank and hilarious when you are being verbally challenged!"

He heavily marched towards Geralt, stopping in front of him with his arms dramatically wide open; indignant of how petty he sounded for being asked over a question that was bound to be inquired soon enough because you were a person who came from another dimension that truly exists.

"I was simply asking what you would do when the rat finally needs to come home from where she rightfully belongs! What will happen to her?!----especially, to you, huh?!"

Geralt's eyes were heavy as it landed on him. Brooding. Crestfallen. Enough to say that the concept of it made him even more dejected and disgruntled. The witcher kept his mouth tightly shut, snapping his eyes away to mule over what he said.

You were already a part of his home besides his original family and Geralt didn't know what to do when one person leaves. Again. He was already done with leaving people and it wasn't surprising when karma hits him back as it'll use you as a pawn.

But, he does not opt for it to happen.

Jaskier brought his arms down to his sides. Baby blue eyes narrowed and his eyebrows pushed together to elicit his worry for his friend despite of the real deal that he also had with you.

"----Because apparently, you are in the risk of heartache when the time comes for her to leave. Isn't that right, Geralt?"

The break of dawn is nigh; dark and light colliding to meet the sun as they were finally reaching daybreak from all the fusses that was happening. He should've left before you even woke up, knowing you would be slightly upset as you weren't used to what life he had nor did you exactly have the vivid idea of everything.

You knew nothing at all and soon enough, Geralt was sure it'll kick him in the butt for not saying anything more about their world and for what it holds.

"You aren't just fond of her anymore. It's beginning to grow more than that," Jaskier honestly convinced his theories and observations, pausing to look at Geralt who has given him a tiny quirk of his brow for what he wanted to say, "---Before you tell me that it's because of something the Djinn has cast upon you both, it must be wrong."

Geralt went completely silent; letting Jaskier share his opinions laid out for him to understand, "You risked to appear in front of that wandering vampire that the queen has kept around---" pause. "---risked everything we had, trying to lay low from everyone because our lives are at stake here,"

Jaskier's weight fell on one foot to the other, raising a hand to point at himself as he continued to conclude, "You can fool anyone but me, Geralt. I can see who she is for you,"

"What do you want me to say, Bard?"

He brought a finger up to the witcher, ceasing his temper from bursting out of nowhere, "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't let her go." pause. "---Keep her, because I know you'll think of the greater good and try to fix everything according to your treacherous and foolish plans. Don't let her leave you---don't make her leave us,"

Geralt cocked his head to the side, forehead creased in confusion for the sudden contrast of his advice. His friend was technically not sounding forthright after asking him what his decision was with the involvement of you.

The latter started again, "Choose---" Brusque and impatient. His harsh, clipped tones cut him off. Geralt stated as a matter of fact, "---the lesser evil. So, I've been told."

He rounded up and dragged his feet away from the bard, walking the path back to his horse with a vexed Jaskier who angrily marched to where he was.

"No, you fool!" he ungraciously exclaimed, standing beside Geralt who took Roach's reigns, tugging at it as he motioned for her that it was time for her to gait, taking heavy steps away from their home while Jaskier followed close.

"---choose the greater good; even if the decision makes you selfish, Geralt."

The witcher looked up at the sky, seeing the beautiful sunny color paving its way to greet them a good morning. It wasn't a good morning to him based on how irritating the start of his day began. He stopped his mosey with an evident sigh, letting Jaskier continue to talk.

"---Stop challenging fate before it's too late---you deserve to be happy---surprising isn't it? From a bard who keeps on blabbing horse shite all the bloody time---well, I'm tired of being with a brooding witcher! If it means to be with a rat forever just for you to stop being cantankerous then I'm accepting the sacrifice!"

The bard's voice echoed across the meadow, combining along with the chirping of birds and the strong breeze of the morning wind. Roach was sniffing Geralt when he'd heard that soft padded footsteps jumping down their stairs in a hurried manner. He'd given Jaskier a disappointed look of his golden peepers; his plan now ruined that he would leave without bidding goodbye because of one bard that could always get under his skin for no reason.

"You were saying, bard?"

You were out of the threshold in no time. Hair in a tangled mess from your previous nightly adventures; along with your painted skin that had witcher bites, looking gauche from wearing Geralt's large tunic that ended on your knees with nothing under and a pout drawn to your face as you ran barefoot along the meadow, wildly screaming his name.

"Geralt-of-fucking-Rivia!" you panted and whined, never believing that he was leaving without any form of goodbyes, "---Don’t you dare step a foot! I swear to God, I will cut your majestic white hair when you walk away and I’ll never make you my special ale anymore!"

The threat was loud enough for him to cease his footsteps; plans of irritating you further would never be a good idea especially that he was leaving for a hunt.

Palms upon your knee, you stood in front of the frowning witcher wearing his black, leather full gear armor; heaving deep pathetic breaths as your hauled over yourself, raising a hand to stop him from leaving.

When you've finally caught your breath, you promptly straightened your back; letting him see your swollen eyes due to sleeping late with probably morning dew slipping a few off the ends of your eyes. He affectionately caught sight of your upset ones; displeased from his sudden flee.

"How dare you leave when you know I don't wake up early like this?---and leaving without a hug!? Seriously, Geralt?!" you declared, obviously unsettled from being fucked the night after without waking you up to say that he was about to leave you for days in a world you hardly know about?

"---What if I don't get to see you again?"

Questions after questions, you demanded answers from Geralt in which it shall never be received based on how he simply watched you raved, feeling the discomfort and worry of leaving his family alone, "What if you never come back?" it sounded like you were thoroughly agonizing over the idea. You started to fret, toes feeling the moist pasture land over the soles of your feet; bringing you more concern.

"---What if I've been kidnapped or something?!"

Geraly shook his head, mouth in a tight thin line as he interrupted, "You're never leaving the house, midget. You need to take care of Cirilla," he let go of Roach's reigns to place his arms on either side of him, his tone more passive than yours, the words he told held more meaning as if he was giving a lot more trust than he can ever do by letting you handle the responsibility for his child of surprise even just for days.

The point simply tells you that he wasn't treating like you were his possession after admitting his feelings. Geralt was acting like a father and a husband for making you feel that way over supporting what he does for a living.

Just the act itself made you reach out for Geralt's hand, tightly clutching it in both of yours like you didn't want him to leave because you were feeling a little agitated for no reason. Overthinking always does take a toll on you. But often times, these female intuitions you have were correct for whatever bad feelings you were having.

Geralt closed his fist to subtly caress the back of your hand as Jaskier tried to convince and pour ice to your anxiety filled head, "Small rat, those are only predictions. He won't die yet. You're talking to a 100 year old witcher and you're frightened that he wouldn't come back alive?"

You face suddenly morphed into confusion, giving Jaskier a look of puzzlement. 100 years old? Geralt never looked that old to you, maybe his face was pretty much mature than yours but his features tells that he was around 30'ish and above, a lot more older than you nevertheless.

Geralt was still quiet as he continued to brush his thumb over the back of your hand. No objection was received and so, you believed Jaskier's words were true. Yet, his age never made you uneasy nor made you want to run for the hills. He was still Geralt. Your mean looking, soft-hearted witcher. More human than any other man can ever be.

He was yours. Only yours; and you needed to bite your tongue from saying words that would taser your heart from being unanswered.

"Wait---what--- you're a 100 years old?!?!----anyway, Geralt---!!" Geralt only hummed in dissatisfaction for Jaskier's existence in their world.

You peered up at the witcher with a fretful beam, your nose scrunching from feeling too worried for him when he goes out to hunt for his monsters; remembering what stories he told and the scars you've seen on his body. It was making your heart feel heavy, and Geralt wasn't a simpleton to not know nor feel how concerned you were for him.

It's been a long time since he's ever had someone making him feel all sorts of things and the doubled up emotions was making it more uncontrollable for the feelings he had for you.

"In our world, when a person leaves, they always bid their goodbyes!" Geralt drowsily blinked back at you, an utter soft flicker in his eyes that made your heart turn to mush.

Your eyes were hopeful as you asked, "---now, where's mine?"

You've let go of his hand, timidly standing before him with your frail arms on either side; wiggling your bare toes on the grass as you shyly waited for his reaction. Was it too much to ask even just a kiss before he goes?

"Goodbye, midget." the white wolf gravelly rasped, insincerity dripping in his tone because he didn't like bidding goodbyes to people he would still get to see again. The words seemed to be bitter for his taste, his farewell totally feigned because he was never going to leave for good. You've seen a tiny slip of his fangs as he talked and tried to regret what he said.

"---though, I doubt I meant that because I am not leaving for good,"

His reaction made you want to jump in a hole and just talk to yourself instead. Your face fell at that and Jaskier was found silently wincing from what the witcher has interpreted. He would rather bask in his own laughter and silence by himself than be punched by Geralt. So, he did; snorting a chuckle as he continued to eavesdrop and watched you both in a conversation.

Though, the bard's laughter was momentarily ceased when Geralt sent him a scowl.

"Why am I---why are witchers idiots? why are you an idiot sometimes?!"

Jaskier was known to be brave for even deciding to be Geralt's travel companion before; having the freedom to annoy him and never gotten the chance to end up beheaded or served as a meal for monsters. He was the only person who Geralt could handle no matter how he brings problems and for how annoying he can become.

However, at some point; they've gotten into a huge fight and it was intense. Luckily, they were on good terms right now after being separated.

"I second the notion, small rat!" the toubadour jested with a grin; Geralt's lack of knowledge about romantic gestures entertaining him.

You palmed your face in fluster and from the frustration; seeming more difficult to say what you truly wanted because Jaskier was close enough to hear what you could ask. A frown etched your face, grouching before the witcher like a kid that has never been given a big swirling rainbow lollipop.

"I didn't meant that! I meant---I meant---!"

You were stammering as you stood rooted on the ground, glancing up at Geralt while subtly pointing to your pouted lips. He calmly breathed out his frustrations from not understanding you prior before. But, the way his golden eyes lit up, sparkling beneath the sun's rays made you see that he knew what you meant.

His eyes were like diamonds twinkling under the sun and it always leaves you bewitched.

He has given Jaskier another grimace before humming back at you in comprehension, "A buss." His mouth curled in a small smile before you've seen him give you a gesture with his hand; urging you to come closer.

"Come ere'. You should've been more specific, midget."

Geralt slung an arm around your hips, his armor hitting your skin with soft clungs; pulling you closer to him as he leaned down to your height, catching your ajar lips in between his as he puckered to give you the most tender kiss you've received, taking you breath away like how he always does.

He'd kissed the tips of your vermillion, feeling like the other piece of your heart has been put together; making you feel complete. Satisfied. With the sudden life that was given to you when you woke up in the middle of the forest, having no idea how you've been transported.

But, experiencing no obstacles in their world from the time being was making you feel jittery because you knew life didn't work that way. It always leads you into an ocean, making you drown in impediments that can assuredly take the happiness away from you in just a flash.

You knew something was about to happen because fate always leads you in that position. It was like it wanted you to taste what contentment in life would be before snatching it out of your hands.

What would your fate bring you in their world?

Geralt has pulled away in the slightest amount. The tips of your vermillion brushing against his as your heart felt heavier to feel his warmth around you; not liking the concept of your witcher away because of certain reasons you couldn't explain. Faint voices has woken you up from your slumber, forewarning about him leaving you; urging for Geralt not to go which took you to run out of the door in your disheveled state.

He lightly gave you a kiss on the tips of your nose; your mouth frowned at that no matter how your heart slightly fluttered from the soft gesture. Geralt straightened his back as he has given Jaskier a knowing look. Jaskier unconsciously has given him a subtle roll of his eyes, feeling that he was being cocky for showing that he had the freedom to kiss you like that. It was how Geralt could define his repartee and Jaskier swore that he got one point of having the upper hand from the surprising physical display of affection.

"Difficult...to be lovers with a 100 year old witcher, won't you say?" he sent the message to you and sounded like he wanted to sulk but he covered the tone with a feigned cough.

Light hurried footfall came falling behind. The Ashen haired child announced her appearance with a look of nausea; her nose twisted in distaste for what she saw because she had already been watching you three in a distance.

"Ugh, gross." she joked, quickly replacing her abhorrence with a genuine smile, "---Is this how disgusting it is to see a child's parents kiss?"

Everybody turned to look at her, the arm that has snaked around you was now gone as you also looked at the princess with a bewildered expression for what she'd said. Nobody dared to object nor concur to what they've heard, only reticence.

But, not for Jaskier. He'd called Cirilla out for saying those words unexpectedly.

"So, you're calling them your parents now? Mother? Father?---and me?"

The lion cub of Cintra raised a sardonic brow as she tightly crossed her arms over her chest, tone all jest and playful as she commented, "---Which leads to you, bard." she abruptly paused to make it sound more intriguing as she spat, "---a dust mite in the household."

Cirilla took several steps closer to Geralt, making you fall back to give them time together. You've given them both a loving smile to indicate that you loved seeing them interact all the time because of how compassionate he was over his child, such a fatherly thing he appeared to be like, with the princess finding comfort and protection in his arms as she stepped closer to give the witcher a big, bear hug that he certainly didn't think twice to accept.

"Take care, Geralt. More than ever--please do come back,”

You eyed Geralt who was hugging Cirilla, your smile turning wider than ever as you lively jested among the affectionate scene you were seeing from a father and daughter.

"Is this the part where we should give you a group hug?---Okay! Okay! I'm joining!" Cirilla wholly accepted the idea of that and pulled your arm to surround beside her and Geralt; his hand immediately falling on your side, grabbing you closer once you were pulled by the pretty child.

The giggles that he heard from you both has lifted a smile on his brooding, sharp features. He lowly hummed in content before lifting his eyes off his girls in his arms to glance at Jaskier who seemed to suddenly be out of humor.

"Bard." he gruffly called out, amused from how the troubadour was despondent from the whole thing happening. Geralt gave an audible huff, alarming Jaskier because he knew what he was thinking. The witcher was thinking how pathetic he was looking to be so withdrawn over the abrupt embraces under the newly emerging morning sun.

"A dust mite mustn't interfere with a family group hug---oof! This is harassment!"

Jaskier was strongly pulled by Geralt who took no complaints over the embosom he was in, puffing out a frustrated breath as he tried to pull back from the embrace but had no choice when the witcher was using his strength, his hand behind the poet. His slight struggle painless for him. He gave the bard a strong pat on the back that made him cough out on how his lungs hurt from the sudden attack.

His grapples were cut short when you've placed your palm just below Geralt's; giving Jaskier a hug as well. Your touch felt unexpected as the white wolf heard his sudden heart palpitations over the subtle brush of your fingers on his friend.

Geralt knew, but not you.

Jaskier will be fine. If this was the only affectionate gesture that he could get you in, so be it. His unrequited affection will go away slowly, he hoped.

The white wolf's departure haven't lasted for a day till you were low spirited enough to stare out onto the windows, sitting on the stoned sill of the windows. Your viewpoint giving such reverence over how immeasurable their world could offer. From trees to the core of their land certainly looked earthy to you. A facsimile of what your world has been. Do they have oceans too? Noodles? Oh, you definitely wanted noodles for thinking about it.

Kaedwen. It was what their kingdom is called. You've also heard about Nilfgaard. Novigrad. But, you have no idea as to what it looks like rather than the kingdom of Kaedwen that looks no good like how you imagined Switzerland to be if you were talking about how the government treats their people.

Humans were treated poorly and even to the point of selling themselves as slaves; remembering what you have heard and saw while walking around the marketplace back then. They were living in dirt and striving to live with the ones who were abundant, seeing like they could never surpass to be cared for like they were humans.

Their government are treating them like garbage. The medieval movies you've watched were real because you also remember how you were close to being sold by a nobleman because no one knew who you were; having no name or a bloodline that could save you from being abjected.

Except for Geralt who needed to create a bloodbath just for you to live. The act alone has probably given him a violation against their law because of how he'd killed knights or people. Or was it legal for it happen?

You were staring far too long out in the open; waiting for your witcher to come back. What if he was away to probably find the sorceress that could bring you back home? Or better yet, what if he did find Yennefer and comes back choosing her instead because you're too dependent over him. His tiny mortal who always needed saving?

What if he gets tired of you? will he throw you away just like how people treat their lovers in earth when they're bored of each other?

What if you've just existed in their dimension because you were needed to fill the empty gap of Geralt's heart until he finds the sorceress?

You've asked Jaskier about it the past few days ago which has left your heart in a disgruntled mess when you've had answers over his relationships he never tells about.

"So, Yennefer, huh?" you've followed Jaskier out of the house. Nightfall was about to come by soon and Geralt wasn't around as he left with no words. The bard jogged through the end of the meadow till he'd reach the edge of the vast forest, twigs and branches breaking apart from every step when you've trailed behind him with a bothered heart.

"What?---Oh! You're asking me who she is?" Jaskier crouched to pick up blocks of wood that will cover up the whole night full of brisk as darkness was bound to visit soon. You hugged yourself to calm down the goosebumps that rose your skin when the cold hits you,"---Would you want a simplified explanation or a detailed one?"

You thought for a moment before feeling your heart beat ringing in your ears. It was that loud for the anticipation running in your veins for how curious you were about Geralt and a vision of his past, "The simplified one,"

Jaskier continued his rummaging, picking up woods after woods as he nonchalantly tittle-tattled, "She's a strong, fierce sorceress. Nice too because she's helped me out of a curse but also kind of rude to me---I am not biased just because of the whole crow’s feet ordeal---they've shared quests and I've been there to witness how they connect with each other. However, their relationship has lots of ups and downs. They've somehow find each other no matter what happens back in the decades except for now."

Your throat felt like there was some phantom hands trying to choke you; constantly bickering back to tell how strong and powerful she was that they've shared tales and adventures. It was downing over your head about how much of a burden you have been to Geralt, the constant feeling of your relationship with him being the cause of the responsibility he had for taking you because he had no other choice that he was the first person you've encountered.

You were definitely the most useless amongst his prior lovers.

He shrieked when a large bug has flew over his face, flicking them away with his hands as he threw his arms around; trying to hit the bug with a block of wood as he continued to talk, "---Move away, you shite of a bug!---Geralt stopped finding her due to reasons I have no clue about and because he needed to avoid people at all costs---but---oh, gods. It’s quite difficult to explain,"

Jaskier has gathered all the wood he needed. You've reach out to help him carry the blocks but before you could even touch them, he'd stepped away and walked around you as he continue to speak, "Oh, and about Renfri; don't bother nor think about it."

He heard your footfalls following him back to the meadow and even heard you exclaim, "Why?"

"She's reached her demise. Explains why Geralt has a moniker named the 'butcher of Blaviken'. Ended up killing her to save an ignoble child named Masha---Martha---Marilka?! Oh, whatever! He chose that to save the innocent lives of people instead. He never told you that?"

Your felt the needles poking through your chest because of how naive it felt to know nothing about it, also feeling sad about her early demise. You've remembered how Geralt ceased his stories when he'd reach the part where he went to a town named Blaviken; not even bothering to tell you that he has met a woman named Renfri and somehow had such hapless fate between them both.

You felt foolish. Ignorant over a story that was never told. Hence, it was enough to turn that smile upside down as you quietly muttered, "No."

Jaskier stopped walking, waiting for you to catch up as you stood beside him with a frown. He'd given you the twinkle of his pretty baby blue eyes with a sympathetic smile as he uttered, "That's never new, though. It's understandable. I've experienced it too, don't worry. Geralt has always been Geralt. He rarely becomes loquacious,"

You've crossed your arms behind your back, your fingers fidgeting; nails scratching your palm from how you were feeling the tiny prickle of your nerves telling that you weren't in the best part of your brain. The dragging feeling on your chest adding more weight from the start that Jaskier has opened his mouth to chat.

"He does that for anyone, huh? Saving people, I mean."

Jaskier was oblivious about how you've turned your head away to anxiously nibble on your lower lip. He was incognizant over your disappointed mental breakdown of your own self because he went on to simply tell, "No matter how he says that he doesn't want to be involved nor desires for anyone needing him. He still saves them because---"

You immediately cut him off, swallowing the tight knot in your throat, looking at him in the eye with a disheartened gaze, "He doesn't want people needing him?"

"Geralt never liked it. But, guess what brought you here! You! Even had the chance of needing Geralt because you were lost and vulnerable. Was it out of pity? I---I---No. No. Definitely not out...of...pity?"

When the moment he'd seen your eyes, Jaskier was quick to know that he made the wrong choice of words and even the topic to tell. He gave an awkward grin, instantly regretting what he said when you've shifted those eyes to look away.

"Why did they never see each other again?"

The bard has cursed himself repeatedly inside his mind, praying to the gods that you won't be mad at Geralt when he comes home because him and Cirilla didn't need another chance of being surrounded by the silence eating them up when you both are having misunderstandings or issues about each other.

"The witcher has made mistakes. He let her slip away. They've parted after a pretty intense fight."

He'd pretty much simplified everything, sounding like he told it to you in bullet form and left you alone in the middle of the field as he ran back inside. Though, it was too late. You've heard what is needed to know and the discomfort that dropped inside your stomach felt like these feelings you had for Geralt was already serious.

It was definitely too late because you've lately realized that liking him wasn't the correct term. Love felt better and deeper.

Soft knocking has pulled you off your reverie which has made you blink as you swiftly turned your head to see a child whom you also have a soft heart for. This child that has no idea why she was being persecuted---or maybe you were the person who had no thought again as to what reason and purpose does Nilfgaard want from her because honestly, all you could see from her was a child who had nobody left behind for her to console. If it wasn't for Geralt, she probably would have been taken by the people who want her.

You narrowed your gaze and gave her a bit of your scrutiny, angling your head in a way that tells the child you were trying to look through her. Did she have some sort of magic too? Was she a mutant too?

"Mum'?---will it be alright for me to call you that? I--I---I don't want to call you rat or midget," she tried to call you for the third time. Her bright cobalt eyes buoyant as she wend one's way, ceasing before you with a tight-lipped smile.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" you softly pardoned with a sweet smile.

The princess couldn't help but bashfully give a beam, conscious if you've said that because you didn't want to be called that way. But, she gave no second doubts and repeated her questions again; anxiously and hopeful to undertake.

"Can I call you Mum'? Everybody has a nickname for you and also considering how you've started taking care of me---with---with Geralt now deeming as your beloved..." she trailed off in the middle of her sentence and you waited for her to continue but it was intentionally left to be dithered.

Heat traveled towards your cheeks. The princess wanted to call you 'Mum'? you silently questioned yourself. Your heart beat was racing from being accepted by his child of surprise, sounding like she wanted you to be her mother and seeing her fret before you made you think that she would gladly be your daughter as long as you were comfortable.

"Beloved? Right! Right! You can call me anything you want, Ciri."

The affirmation made her give you a toothy grin. Cirilla didn't think twice and merrily cajoled with a small hop of her feet that were close against each other, "Great, Mum'! Can you teach me how to bake?---maybe a cake---oh! Or a very scrumptious bread!?"

Your sullen features have been promptly lifted on the spot. You've grasped onto what she wanted, a distraction from how apprehensive she seemed to be like from the way her heels tap on the stone floor and to the way her forehead was slightly creased like she was on pins and needles. The princess was even worried because Geralt wasn't around to guard anyone in the household.

Her wrist was quickly snatched by you, pulling her out of your chambers and running through the hallway, towards down the stairs with heavy, excited thumps.

"Of course! would you like me to teach you how I'd baked blueberry muffins from the other night?"

The lion cub of Cintra hummed in mirth, nodding behind despite of knowing you couldn't see her as you pulled her around. Your eyes scanned the first floor of the house to see Kolby snuffling the front door with Jaskier no where to be seen.

You passed by the newly fixed table; knowing that Geralt ended up fastening back what was ruined. Trying to whisk your head away, you did you best not to feel the warmth spread over your face. Toes were lifted up to the highest as you reached for the door of the cupboards to see the bowls all gone when the last time you remembered; the white wolf has changed the position of plates in a much lower level for your sake.

Jaskier was just intentionally doing it right now and it made your blood boil for his constant teasing.

"I'm going to strangle that bard. I swear to Thor; I hope he hits Jaskier with a lightning---where did he even place all the bowls again?!" you complained more so to yourself as Cirilla was left standing on your side, waiting for your next command.

You've gestured with your hand, making her stay inside the kitchen while you walked away. The Hirikka suddenly howling out of the blue when you jogged towards the front door, stepping out of the threshold as Kolby followed suit.

"Jaskier?!" a loud yell echoed as you called at the top of your voice; seeing no bard anywhere.

Kolby unexpectedly sprinted, running off your side as he turned along the path around the house where the back door lead to.

You groaned out loud, strolling to where the Hirikka went, "Jaskier! Will you please tell me where---Jaskier!"

An ear-piercing shriek left your lips. Heart stopped from beating, your blood running cold as you were filled with panic and fear from seeing Jaskier hunkered down in the middle of chevaliers circling him like he was being tyrannized.

Armored gallants sat on their horses, their helmets taken off their faces which has given you images of what they looked like. A mixture of different ethnicity that you were well aware of back in earth. But, they've shared gazes in their eyes that placed you in a horrified position that tells everything was about to go down and it wasn't just Jaskier hunched on the ground.

When he heard your footsteps, he was pleading that you wouldn't actually visit the back part of the house but seeing Kolby safeguarding as he stood in front of you; thoroughly feral and livid for visitors that weren't invited at all, Jaskier knew all hell was about to break lose.

"A liar, bard." you've heard that voice back in the marketplace, a timbre you didn't wish to hear ever again as it haunts you with memories that he was a mystical being and the person who has stabbed you to bleed.

"The witcher didn't bring his little woman all along," Tybalt's breath fanned your ears, making you hastily step away from the vampire with your eyes all wide from the spine-chilling memory that gets you shunning away. Kolby was rapid enough to slip in between the uncomfortable space that Tybalt has locked you in, all predatory and wild as the movement made you stumble down beside Jaskier.

You've coughed out from being accidentally pushed to the ground, the knights of Kaedwen stepping back to include you in the tyranny of hopeless pleading. The bard's lip was wounded. Broken. Bleeding. Claret colored liquid painting his teeth which tells that they've been bashing him for quite some painful minutes. His doublet untidy and disordered from their constant forceful pulling.

"Rat," he weakly groused, holding onto his battered stomach. Jaskier tightly blinked the dirt out of his eyes as he spitefully spat the blood, wiping the blood off his busted lip with the back of his hand. His golden dagger tightly on his palm as he ceaselessly jested. The words coming out of his lips sounding familiar as you remembered you've said it to him before in the middle of being taken.

"---You had one job."

NO UPDATE FOR THIS UPCOMING JUNE 27, BB’S! I’mma take a break! (Or not because I always end up opening my drafts and try to write lmao) I’ll probably write the future chapters for everyone and so, I won’t get stuck on procrastinating before school starts in about after 2 months. LMAO. I get anxious when I think about this fic being unfinished due to random reasons because I don’t want that. FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you)

Taglist for WOTN: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @winter-moons @cheesecakeisapie @silverkitten547 @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a--1--1--3, @gutfucks, @raynosaurus-rex

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza

General taglist: @agniavateira, @iloveyouyen, @rahdaleigh,

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fullmoonfireball · 4 years ago

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i should probably Make Public how i figure operation: blackout goes in my mainverse ‘canon’ so uhhhh yeah:

Gary’s disappearance pre-blackout resulted in Jazz having to take over his position as Tech lead in his absence.

She tried to contribute to the investigation in between handling what Gary left behind, but couldn’t get very far.

Basically I’m imagining Jazz having finished the creation of most of the Blackout items from works in progress and blueprints Gary left behind.

Jazz steals + laser enlarges one of his labcoats a few days into him being missing because she’s getting anxious and is really missing him/considering being Impulsive a la Do-It-Yourself Carting

Oops! Blackout!

Starts out with a lot of laying low/trying to fix the little things first

Everyone gets ‘fun’ winter outfits because I think they should

Dot getting kidnapped... takes a while for people to notice. Dot had been sneaking in/around the base a lot recently, and people figured she was just out longer than usual at first. I think Jazz went with her at least once and accidentally wormed her way into the ‘Paradise’.

Actually realizing she had been kidnapped was Not Pleasant! A small group of field agents snuck out to try to find her, only to come back, shaken, with photos of their two frozen leads.

Congrats, bitch, now you have to take over both your dad and your girlfriend’s positions. The role of Stealth Lead was probably a bit more ‘split’ to begin with, but as the rest of the Waddle Squad was taken, it just kinda.. got more ‘concentrated’ onto just Jazz.

Jazz and Rookie, desperate for something to lighten the mood, go to see My Awesome Life-The Herbert Story to try and make some kind of fun out of it.

They sneak in with a bunch of snowballs in-arm, and spend most of the show trying to drown their discomfort in how bad the play is. The fact they’re both cutouts on the stage does not help any.

Instead of heckling the actor playing Herbert (who miiight be Iris ;) ), though, they go for a certain Illustrious Leader in the audience. Unfortunately, he catches on to who’s doing it pretty quickly.

[Exit, pursued by a bear.

Herbert grabs Jazz in the chase, and she screams at Rookie to run, but he just... doesn’t. He doesn’t want his friend to get taken.

Herbert laughs at their ‘touching’ loyalty, digs his claws into her arm, and then just... drops her. He grins. “Do you really think I’m going to end your suffering so soon?”

And he takes Rookie.

Terrified by seeing her little sister (and her little sister’s friend too I guess) chased out of the theatre by the island’s dictator, Iris frantically calls Jazz. It doesn’t go over very well.

Jazz and Guy end up just... sleeping in the hideout close together for the next two days. They both need the physical contact and really miss their friends/partners. They’re both uncharacteristically quiet when they’re working, too.

I really need to figure out more about Guy getting ambushed so let’s skip that for now

Guy took over as Comm lead after Rookie got got, and after he got got, a few other agents had to step up because the Director refused to lay all that on Jazz.

The Director getting taken mid-briefing was a HUGE blow. Whatever agents were still bothering to come into the hideout at that point just... gave Jazz a lot of space.

She just kind of... ended up taking most of that day ‘off’ to ““celebrate”” her last birthday with her (biological) family. (In some sort of twist this was the last one she spent with them, just not for the reason she was dreading.)

Jazz admitted her agent life to her parents and sister, albeit reluctantly, because she figured she wouldn’t be unfrozen for much longer. And she probably got leaked anyways. She also dropped off Blitz and Athena for them to take care of. She would’ve never revealed herself if Herb hadn’t made her a cutout in his play AND if her identity hadn’t been leaked, but here we are.

Jazz actually ending the Blackout happened on the 25th because of. all that.

She dropped off her signature pins and her spy phone inside the hideout before going to stop Herbert, because if she does get frozen, it doesn’t matter if she has either.

She just kinda... blasts through all of the security systems in one day. She has fuckin nothing left to lose, she is not putting up with Herbert’s bullshit any longer.

I have thought... way too much about the reunions when everyone’s unfrozen but not in any way that’s worth describing? In short, there’s lots of crying and hugging.

Everyone gets unfrozen one-by-one, in the order they were kidnapped.

Do Dot and Jazz nearly forget they’re not girlfriends yet and almost kiss in front of an incredibly out of it Gary? Yes. Absolutely.

A bit after the Big Tearful Reunion and the whole Director reveal it suddenly hits Jazz that oh fuck Herbert is still out and about, they have to get out of here if they don’t all want to get frozen (again).

Run.

After the Blackout, the EPF is forced to become more public because they just Cannot keep being so private with all these leaks.

#Rambles Into The Void #headcans #i'm not tagging everyone so i'm just gonna #Club Penguin

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sgt-morgan · 4 years ago

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Lucky Kentucky ch. 2

Chapter 1

Hello there, welcome back to my Rockstar!Bucky x Reader fic. It was heavily inspired by my love of seventies mega rockstars, Almost Famous, Classic Rock, and a little bit of personal whimsy. I hope you enjoy, and read responsibly.

⚠️ WARNING ⚠️ : cussing, sexy times, drugs, booze, smoking, objectification, fornication, liberation, and a litany of other sordid topics and traumas.

“HEY! NOBODY FUCKING MOVE!” To say that the last thing you needed was a missing rockstar, was a drastic understatement, and a testament to your unending will.

“Where in the good sweet name of Jesus is that dick head?” You fumed stomping towards the rest of the band.

“Your guess is as good as ours sweetheart, we got nothing. No phone calls, no texts, no nothing.” Shrugged Steve Rodgers, guitarist and all around good guy. “If I knew that all the time, I think I’d be a millionaire.”

You sighed and looked around you at the fleet of your busses and equipment trucks, and you could have sworn that you were ready to kill that asshole with your bare hands. “Well hot stuff? He better show up quickly, or so help me God he will be sleeping in a tour bus with the newest, dweebiest, roadies I can find. Do you know how bad new roadie busses smell? He will if he dosent get his ass here by the time the last piece of your stage equipment is packed.”

“I think you should land his ass there anyway, to give him time to think about what he’s done.” Sam shrugs, Clint vehemently nodding his support as he wrangles one of his two delightful children. “I think his punsishmet should fit his crimes personally.”

“Oh yeah! I think that’s a great idea! Or, he could stay with Laura and I on our bus, I’m sure the whining infant won’t keep him up all night, He’s gonna love it!” Clint nods, “We have a rule, no booze, broads, or bud around the kids! He’ll dry out quick!”

“No Clint, no worries at all. He won’t sleep or get laid on the roadie bus,” you laugh, “he’ll be surrounded by filth, and endless questions, and gawking. He won’t get the back room either, I’ll give him a bunk. Frankie will be on his bus, that way he never gets away with anything. No escape artists on my watch!” You wink, plucking his oldest, Cooper off his back and wrestling him into a head lock.

“Oof, devious as always.” Natasha laughs nodding and throwing her arm around you. “I remember when I got on your bad side, wasn’t worth the never ending week of publicity with no coffee. That was the strictest ban I’ve ever dealt with for sure.”

“Someone start calling his ass.” You laugh pulling away from Tasha and waking towards Peter to get a rundown on the status of loading up.

“Oh captain, my captain!” Peter saluted, about nine or ten roadies following in his lead while the rest just stood gawking as if they had never seen a woman before. “We are about twenty minutes from setting sail, I have my men sorted into busses and vans, Frankies bus has one extra bed open as per request, and, as our lady of perpetual mystery might be interested to hear, we have a new crew of over eager security team members stocked to the brim on Frankies bus, even worse than the roadies. Is everything ship shape?”

“At ease Parker,” you giggle, shoving him out of his stiff rehearsed stance, “indeed we are ship shape, now if only our little diva Jr. would show face, we could be on our way.” Just as you were finishing that sentence, a car pulled up, and out stumbled the man of the hour, James Barnes.

James Buchanan Barnes was drunk. Inibriated, intoxicated, off his ass, pissed, blitzed, sloshed, ranked, hammered, wrecked, out for the count, drunk. He stumbles out of the Uber, bottle in hand, but at least he was dressed. He stumbled over to the rest of the group, he had a duffel bag, wether it was packed with anything useful is up in the air, you’d make sure you’d get your hands on it and ensure that it had what he needed. Wanda could take care of filling in the gaps. You have now decided that there is no escape from Frankie for him. You’d have to put someone on the bus. You don’t know who yet, but someone. Maybe Quill? Whoever it was, needed to get along with Sam and Steve. Thor, he would work nicely. You’d see to it that Frankie had him moved. Now there was the Liquor problem. This was a decision every road manager has to dread. As any good rockstar could tell you, you have to be stone sober or completely fucked to perform a good show, you just had to decide what would or wouldn’t ruin the band... or him. So, sober it was. No use dragging it on any longer.

“JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES!”

—————————————————————————

Any man alive knew that sound was trouble. No woman used the full Government name if you were in good standings. That was just facts. However, drunk thoughts beget sober truths and the truth is, that was incredibly sexy. When he turned hands raised in surrender whiskey bottle and duffle abandoned he was greeted to the glorious sight of her. Kentucky, dressed in leggings and a ripped up old band tee that he could faintly register belonged to Led Zepplin. Her hair piled up on her head shining in the sunlight her curves begging to be expl-

*whack*

Well, that will sober you up quick.

“Hey dickhead, so glad you could make it!” Sam, not looking too thrilled despite his statement of glad tidings gave him a smile he could only describe as cat catching canary. “I think Lucky needs to see you. Loose the doe eyes, it’s getting creepy.”

“Yeah buddy, I can catch on pretty quick.” He fumbled for what to say, and settled on “Bluegrass, doll, you look stunning this fine morning. Care for a swig of Kentucky’s finest?” He slurred, She sauntered up to him and he could swear he felt the magic, until she snatched the bottle and promptly tipped it out onto the ground. “Hey, woah! Easy there Kentucky, that was a bottle of Kentucky’s finest! that was a bottle of Eagle Rare!”

“No James, your looking at Kentucky’s finest, and you should know that I’m better than all the barrels in Frankfort. Buffalo Trace has nothing on me. Now, since you came in all washed up and wandering right smack dab before the deadline, I’m gonna be merciful, but the next time you pull this shit? Theres a bunk in Frankies bus with the minors that has your name on it. Are we clear? Brooklyn?” She had the empty bottle in her fist, her other arm draped under her breasts and she was jabbing him in the chest. He had never been more frightened and turned on in his entire life.

“Reading you loud and clear KY, I got the message.” He nodded backing away slightly.

“Good!” She smiled turning into an entirely different woman. One with sunshine and laughter in her soul, her perverbial horns retracting. She snatched his sunglasses right off of his aching eyes, and placed them on her face. Low blow, but not entirely unexpected. “Now that the princess is here, load up and let’s roll! First pit stop is in Vegas, so we got a lot of ground to cover!” She stuffed his empty bottle and his duffle back into his hands, and headed for her bus, he just caught the conversation as the Barton family began to load up watching her go by.

“Daddy?”

“Yes, Lila?” Clint said helping his little girl put her little pink hello kitty duffle under the bus.

“Is Uncle Bucky in trouble?” She asked innocently looking back at Bucky, who gave her a little wave.

Clint turned to face him, chucking as he met his gaze, “Oh yeah honey, lots and lots of it.”

—————————————————————————

You loaded yourself onto the administrative bus, plopping yourself into the little booth right at the front near the head bus driver, Phil Colson.

“Hello Phil!” You smiled, opening your laptop and checking on your hotel reservation. The kind bus driver smiled and started up the bus. Next on we’re your bunk mates, Wanda, Vision, Bruce, and Peter. That left two bunks open for Tony and Pepper for when they joined you on the occasion.

“Well, I can proudly announce that Barnes’ military training has not gone to waste, even sloppy drunk he knows how to pack his essentials!” Wanda’s beautiful soothing voice waltzes its way into your ears as she and Vision loaded themselves onto the bus. “He’s got his tooth brush and everything! It’s a miracle!”

You nodded at that eyes still focused on checking your route’s traffic and totaling how much it would cost you for a late check in if nessicary. “Good, he can be a functioning adult when he wants to be!”

“The widows are settled onto their bus, everyone’s got what they need. Carol said she could do with some more angry Lucky, she missed you apparently” Bruce sighed plopping down next to you silently checking over your figures.

“I’ve got everything packed so that it should only take the lighting crew and I two hours to shore up, which puts my productivity up by 30%” Vision shrugged putting his arm back around his beautiful wife.

“And I can move heavy things and take good photos. Also, I fixed that stage piece you were worried about and it is no longer does the rocky thingy.” Peter grinned giving you finger guns.

“Ugh, I love the sound of efficiency!” You sigh, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear as you throw your stuff in the bunk closest to the shower. “Thank you all for agreeing to take this on with me, I wanted you because you’re my A-team, and I knew that I couldn’t do this without you... plus I knew it would look fantastic on your resumes.” The crew in your bus gave a here here for that statement.

“So, Barnes. How do you plan to tackle that battle?” Peter said plopping down on top of Wanda and Vision as if they were just two decorative pillows. “He’s gotta strong will and a heady brooding nature, rough shit I tell yah.”

“Not to mention the fact that he’s incredibly handsome,” Wanda said pushing Peter to the floor, “We know you’re a pushover for that type!”

“Well lady and gentlemen, I plan to kick his ass into shape. Good looks and broody behavior be damned!” You huff.

“I may point out, that is not exactly a plan darling.” Vision says sympathetically patting you on the head as he carries his and Wanda’s things to the back of the bus.

“Well Viz, darling I am well aware of that. I have a plan. He’s gonna have to sober up. This behavior isn’t normal for him, his band mates and Tony have made that clear, he’s on the string for some girl that couldn’t have given less of a shit about him, so he’s all fucked in the head. MY job, is going to be reminding him he’s a goddamn rock star, who doesn’t need a bitch like that to make him happy!” You gesticulate as you unpack the supplies you’d need for a shower. “Then, all should be well with the world again, and I can go back to managing tours that don’t make me want to kill myself.”

——————————————————————————

“Say Stevie, that uh, that Kentucky sure is one tough dame right?” Bucky say’s as he charges shirts, “gotta lot of spunk?”

“Yeah Buck, she’s a real hot head when she wants to be, but she’s fantastic at this. I’ve not seen a better organized tour in my life!” He hears his best friend laugh from the front.

“Not to mention,” Sam started from his position on the couch, “she’s one hot mama, veeeeeery fine. You can tell she knows it too. I wonder if she likes dark chocolate, I think I should find out.”

Bucky felt anger deep in his gut at Sam’s teasing, but for the life of him he can’t figure out why. He dosent need another relationship, hell, dosent want one. That only leads to broken hearts and empty bottles... broken hearts and empty bottles... a little cliche but he could make it work. He’d write it down later. Right now, his sole purpose was intel. Gathering as much info on Kentucky as he could.

“Gotta make sure she’s not already tied up Sammy boy!” He laughed, “besides, I think she likes Seargents.” He winked.

“Well if it’s information on the lady Kentucky you want, I’ve got you covered.” The big braun-y security guy Thor chuckled, “she’s single as it comes, bad break up with some hot douche bag in some other band. Wasn’t pretty that breakup, I tell yah. Frankie and I had to beat the guys face in to get him off her door step, she started road managing in order to get away from him, being constantly on the move made her a moving target, it worked better that way.”

“Sheesh, any ideas on that band name? I’d hate to bump into them sometime.” Bucky shook his head, “she sounds like a tough lady.”

“Oh she is,” Thor chuckled, “got some rough and tumble to her, she’s good at what she does. Hydra? I think that’s the name at least.”

“Sheesh,” Steve muttered, “She messes around with hard hitters huh? Hydra is huge on the pop punk charts, they’re not topping out on the hot 100 or anything, but they pull a decent crowd for sure.”

“Yeah, this isn’t the first time I’ve heard stories about them being absolute dicks either,” said Sam, “poor thing. I hate that for her.”

“She’s a good lady, really, she’s always so kind, goes out of her way to learn names and remember important dates, never afraid to pitch in where she’s needed. You guys are lucky to have her for this tour.” Thor nods, putting his things away and laying down in his bunk.

“Yeah, very lucky.” Bucky nods, daydreaming about a woman he just met. This was gonna be a long tour.

——————————————————————————

Their first stop was in Nevada. Los Vegas, baby. The first show of the tour was at the colosseum at Ceaser’s palace. This meant discounted hotel rooms, larger merch sales, and quite a bit of press was involved, but you were ready to take on the challenge. You arrived in Los Vegas around 6am, all of the bands stumbling off their respective busses and making their way towards the resteraunts in the hotel. You and Bruce headed off to snag hotel keys, and settle the bands into place. Wanda, Vis, and Peter, headed with the rest of the crew and the equipment trucks to the Venue for set up.

“Alright Bruce, you get the Widows settled in their rooms, I’ll take care of the boys. Tell the girls their press is at 10 and their rehearsal will be at noon, they are to be at the venue no later than 9:15. They will arrive and go straight to Wanda, who has outfit options, and makeup. They have a lunch break at 2:00, and they need to be at the venue by 5:00 for their sound check at 5:30, curtain is at 7:30.” You rattled off handing Bruce back stage passes and a few printed copies of tonight’s schedule. “I’ll meet you outside in twenty to send the busses to the venue.” Bruce gave you a tiny salute and you wandered off to find the Commandos. You found them sitting in a resteraunt, a waiter bringing them their drinks. You noticed Bucky had a screwdriver, now that just wouldn’t do. You snatched the glass from him right as the waiter was about to put it in his hand, slamming it back in one go.

“Woohoo! Good morning Kentucky!” Clint laughed clapping with Steve and Sam, who were pointing at a dumb struck Bucky.

“Damn, sugar! I didn’t know you had it in you this early!” Sam laughed.

“We,” you said gesturing between Bucky and yourself, “will take water and a coffee.” You said to the waiter with a wink. “Good morning boys! We’re in for a good one today! Starting off at the colosseum is a great first gig! Now I hate to be a downer, but unfortunately, I gotta lay down the law. This tour will have a no show day drinking policy. Zero tolerance, breaking this rule leads to a prohibition to the breakers caffeine supply, and lands you in a bunk in Frankies bus with the newbies. The only exceptions are exactly one pre show shot and or beer for last minute jitters, or a celebratory toast. Any other hard day drinking will lead to repricutions. Rule number two, I run a right ship, I do not appreciate tardiness. I went easy on you the first day, but here on in, if you are late by more than ten minutes, I will assume you’re dead and send the cops to come find you. Very loud, very messy, and definitely will make the news. So, do I make myself clear?” You looked around and met their gazes everyone seemed to be okay with these rules, except Bucky.

“What the hell lucky? Am I some kinda child or something? No drinking? No tardiness? Am I a high schooler? Jesus, you gotta pair on you if you think that I, a grown ass man would ev-“ your food came about five words into his little tirade, and as soon as the waiter left your food, you shoved a roll in Bucky’s mouth.

“Stuff it Brooklyn, we wouldn’t fuckin NEED these rules if you could get your ass together for five minutes to see what you’re doing! Your drunkenness has made you sloppy, you’re late on your due dates, your waisting Tony’s time and money on your pouty bullshit, and your friends are worried about you. So yes, we’re gonna have rules, they will have consequences, and I’ll beat your ass myself if you show the inability to get it together!” You rant jabbing your finger into his chest to get your point across. “Now, eat your waffles, here’s your schedules, and if you are not showered and decently dressed at the colosseum by 10 am sharp, so help me God I’ll call the cops.” With that you gathered your coffe and your purse and stalked away. Handing Steve they’re schedules, passes, and hotel keys as you went. It was gonna be a long night, you could feel it.

“Did anyone else find that extremely sexy?” Sam asked, and by god Bucky couldn’t help it, he nodded in agreement.

—————————————————————————

Steve and Bucky followed eachother up to their floor of the hotel, crew, secrity, and bands took up the entire fifth floor. Later tonight, when everyone actually got to unload after the show, It would be a real party, people leaving their doors open, coolers of beer, goods and services being exchanged, instruments and duffle bags and food being passed from room to room, it was Bucky’s personal favorite part of the evening.

Right now, it was sad and empty. So, he showered, and he went to sleep. At approximately 10:15 am, Bucky was rudely awakened by a pounding on his door. He looked at the time and he jumped to his feet so fast he almost broke his neck tripping on his sheets. Kentucky was gonna kill him. He just hoped to God whoever was outside his door didn’t drag him out of the hotel in handcuffs.

“Ok Bucky, time to shine!” He muttered to himself and threw open the door. Outside was quite possibly the largest man he’s ever seen, and he was no pipsqueak himself, he towered over bucky by at least a foot, and his biceps were roughly the size of his head. “Hello there, seeing as you’re not in a police uniform, you must be Frankie.” The big man grunted his assent. “Ok then, may we g-“

“Listen here pretty boy, I don’t care if your famous, you hurt Kentucky? I hurt you. Understood?” His voice felt like a blast of attic wind. It made Bucky shiver. Where was this coming from? How would he hurt Kentucky, it’s not like she would ever date him, he couldn’t even get a woman to Mary him, let alone bag an absolute catch like Lucky.

“Yes sir, won’t happen again.” Bucky saluted like he was still in the service then realized what he was doing and always my scratched his head. “Can we?” He pointed at the door, hoping against all odds to escape this absolute shit show of a conversation.

“By the way kid? You’re lucky she didn’t send the cops.”

——————————————————————————

At the colosseum, Y/N was pracitcaply putting a hole in the rug of their dressing rooms, while the various other band mates who bothered to show up on time, sat there bored out of their minds.

“I’m gonna kill him,” you muttered, biting at your bottom lip.

“No your not mama,” Natasha laughed from the couch, “You think he’s sexy, you don’t burn fine art.”

“Dammit, you’re right.” You sighed throwing your hands in the air and plopping dow on top of her and Peggy who were sitting next to eachother looking at dress designs Wanda sent them for SNL next month.

“I like the black one Nat, the red detailing is classy and fun.” You mutter, Peggy nods in agreement.

“I like Wanda’s idea of us all having black dresses with different colors, we could do it 1950’s style and put our hair up? I think it would look really cool. Fits the vibe of our song choice.” Peggy says casually flipping through the designs.

“Carol and I respectfully request to wear suits if that’s ok?” MJ pipes up, “I think two and two will look cool.” She shrugs, I’ll do the regular hair and makeup though.”

“Can I get a broad brim mobster hat?” Carol asks popping up from her place on the floor beside MJ’s chair.

“Yes, I like this idea. SNL will like it too I bet.” Wanda nodded. “If they let Megan and Billie do what they want, I’m guessing your performance will be just as accepted. That and it can be in black and white. Rami Malik is also the perfect host for that. I’ll pitch it to their team.”

“How about you boys, any ideas? You’re the week after.” Wanda said looking towards the Comandos who had already made it.

“I like the Jailhouse rock Idea! I think we sh-” Just then, Frankie walked in holding James by the collar.

“Put him down Frankie,” you sigh “he’s an ass, but we need him.” After Frankie let him go, he brushed himself off and grinned at you sheepishly. “You better have a damn good explanation for this.” You grind out.

“Over slept?”

“Im gonna kill him”

——————————————————————————

All in all, the show went off without a hitch, the bands both sailed through their songs beautifully, and earned themselves an encore. However, on the last encore of the night, Bucky made things a little more interesting.

“This last one, goes out for a little special someone!” When he said that, you could swear he winked at you.

“Hey hey mama said the way you move” when he held out that move? You could feel your soul shake. He was going it slow, taking the opening slow to really get the crowd worked up. It was like he was expressly trying to lock eyes with you, seat his irises into your soul. “Gonna make you sweat, gonna make you groove.” Then when the first two lines were done and they kicked into tempo, you remembered where you were, what you were doing, and you let the song echo behind you, as you went to help Wanda pack up the dressing room.

What was that look? What game was he playing at? He couldn’t want to mess around with you, you were a nobody. He was James Barnes, lead singer of one of the biggest bands of the decade, he had no interest in you. You were a road manager, a stick in the mud, a hard headed know it all. He dosent know a thing about you and dosent want you. You were just getting caught up in the music right?

#music #musicians #bucky barnes #bucky x y/n #bucky x reader #bucky au #james barnes #winter solider fanfiction #rockstar!bucky #rockstar!au #steve rodgers #sam willson #wanda maximoff #vision #natasha romanoff #peter parker #avengers

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jovialecho · 4 years ago

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Comeuppance

Rahzel decides to hit Troy up, telling him to head to the bar tonight rather than Sunday. He asks why it even matters what day, bringing up how eager and impatient Rahzel is to collect a soul.

“You might not even win the games.”

So sure of himself. It makes Rahzel’s blood boil and his eyes roll involuntarily. He urges the other to meet him at the corner of it anyway, and with enough fussing, Troy teleports over.

“Tonight,” The demon starts, walking over to Troy, grabbing his shoulder. “because tomorrow, they ain’t stay open as late. Drinks ain’t up and handed out as late either.”

Troy peels Rahzel’s hand off him, shaking his head. “We came to play, not get drunk. Stupid shit happens when you drink-”

“When I drink???” Rahzel guffaws and puts his hand on Troy’s shoulder again, leading him to the building, “Don’t be acting all innocent. You just as dumb when you blitzed.”

The other doesn’t bother with taking the hand off, walking past the double doors, immediately greeted with laughter and music. The pair head off to the new gaming side.

“Ah sick.” Rahzel latches onto an air hockey table, grinning wide. He looks up at Troy when he follows close by him.

“Been a hot fuckin’ minute since i done played this-” Troy finishes his sentence for him. “-Since the one in your room quit worker? Yeah. Funny how that one doesn’t work anymore. I don’t think we should play this one. I don’t think I’m for seeing the rage you’re always talking about.”

Rahzel watches Troy slip towards the nearest billiards table, instead.

“So we immediately going in, no drinks? No funny shit? No games for the fuck of it?” He watches Troy as he pays for the balls and places them into the rack. It doesn’t take long at all for him to get bored, “Aight, well. I’m gonna go get us some sodas or something, dude, just get the game set up.”

As Rahzel heads to the bar, he listens to passing conversations from the other few people in the booths. He heads for the barkeep, listening out the snacks and drinks he wants, taking a seat so he can wait for them.

His phone vibrates in his pocket, so he pulls it out to have a quick look, turning his head to see if Troy was texting from the pool table. Nope. Once in his device, he opens the texts, seeing it’s from...Rudy. Great. His favorite guy! What overrated nonsense is he going to spill? Deep breath, Rahzel. Alright, he’s ready for the headache.

With another roll of his eyes, Rahzel pockets his phone and collects the food he paid for, making his way back towards Troy, though now he finds himself looking around for anyone paying him any attention. Luckily, nobody has the guts to look his way, so he carries on, ready to try to win a soul, MAYBE fair and square.

~~~~~

From one game to 4, Rahzel found himself on the losing end far too many times to accept. He’s never been one to swallow his pride in anything, let alone gambling, or games in general.

Yet, as he leans against the bar, scowling, he can’t help but find a hint of amusement in the fact Troy bested him more times than not at a game Rahzel had to help him be better at. Maybe the kid his destined for something great-- Yes, Rahzel picks that up just from playing pool, because that’s definitely a useful life skill.

A hand on his shoulder pulls him out of his grouchy headspace and he turns his attention back to Troy. He’s surprised to see he isn’t smiling.

“What’s up? You won? Ain’t that enough?”

Troy pats him on the back, “As long as you aren’t going to hole up in your room for a week because of it, sure. It’s enough. I’m sure you’ll find someone better to make your first deal with. ...Maybe I’ll even change my mind down the road. Who knows, man. Just figure out what you’re best at offering first before making a mess with your words.”

Rahzel downs the last of his rum and coke before slipping off the barstool.

“Let’s go get some ice cream or something.” He walks right for the doors, ignoring whatever logic Troy decides to spew his way.

“Rahzel there’s no place open!” The brunette follows the lanky troll out of the bar, doing his best to keep up with the pace, “Dude. No place! There is noooo place!”

Rahzel stretches, groaning, “There’s ALWAYS a place, dude. Don’t worry. We going on a motherfuckin journey, dogg.”

Before he gets much further, a voice stops him. He looks ahead of himself to see a familiar face. Oh, it’s that biker again. Time for eye roll number 4 tonight...or was it 5. Rahzel puts his arms down and sighs, hearing Troy stop behind him.

He notices there are three others behind the familiar biker and he scoffs. Is this really happening?

“’ey. What’s good, man? You still pissed about that shit I TRIED to fix?”

The only response he gets at first is a scowl before the bearded biker takes a step forward, the others following in a synchronized fashion. Ew. It’s a posse.

“Yeah, I am. But this is strictly business, mostly.”

Rahzel puts a hand on his hip, raising an eyebrow to emphasize how little he cared, but also prompted him to continue, “Aight?”

He’s quick to notice any movement the biker makes and sees him pull out a handgun. Two of his lackeys follow suit, three guns aimed directly at him.

The demon can’t help but let out a laugh, both of surprise and fresh amusement. The lost deal completely forgotten now.

“Holy shit you really ain’t smart at ALL.” Rahzel can’t tell if he’s goading them or not at this point, though he surely is annoyed but what he perceives as an inconvenience more than anything else at this point.

“You’re gonna shoot me? You do. All four of ya are dead. You don’t know what the fuck ya dealing with, dude.

The lackey in the back starts to look between everyone, seemingly uncertain about what’s transpiring in front of him.

“Even one of ya own ain’t solid on this shit. Grow the fuck up.” Rahzel takes a step forward to further show his lack of concern for his own safety. “You ain’t big. You ain’t tough. You full of shit if you think you can take me on with a gun. I’ll get the fuck back up and find ya ass and rip you a new asshole. Ugly ass bitches you think-”

The leader aims, getting heated faster than Rahzel anticipated.

“I bet you goddamn drunk as shit, too. Put your gun down motherfucker. You’ll regret this shit, for sure.” Casually he reaches for the gun, only to have it immediately discharge into his arm. The sound startles him more than the actual bullet in his arm. “Gh-!”

Troy pushes himself in front of Rahzel, arms up.

“Stop! Stop! We don’t have to do this. Whoa-”

Rahzel reaches for Troy’s shoulder, hissing. “Troy st-”

The next gunshot makes Rahzel’s ears ring worse than before, but his focus is on how Troy’s head jerks back, and it’s immediately obvious where the shot landed as blood, not his own color, lands on his shirt. As if time itself slowed down, Rahzel watches as Troy drops to the ground like a ragdoll, partially falling against him.

He doesn’t breathe in that moment, the reality not quite setting in. It all happened too fast. What the Hell is even actually happening. Shot. Troy. Troy’s been shot. Rahzel glances down some, seeing the bullet hole in Troy’s forehead.

Dead? Killed.

A hue of purple colors his vision as he looks upward at the group, the lackey on the right looking the most guilty. Yet, his attention falls on the leader as his gun raises again, no remorse on his face.

Rahzel’s mouth opens and all that comes out is screaming. From being frozen in place to suddenly lunging forward, nobody suspected the guy to just fling himself right at the biker. He knocks him to his back, growling and screaming at him, another gunshot hitting him in the chest, then another. He doesn’t let that stop him as he spits out honks and drool at the same instance, face diving right into the biker’s throat. The tendons and cords don’t stand a chance against his teeth and he sinks in, ripping out flesh, muscle. A mess of red cascades down his face and chin.

It’s immediately spat back out, and another shot, though ignored again, is sent into Rahzel’s back. He stops himself from going back in for another bite, letting the shell of a man bleed out slowly, or suffocate on blood. A quick turn sends him in the direction of the next two. He gives zero fucks with how scared they look, he’s off his shit. All he can think about is Troy. How dead he is.

The demon’s running leaves the two to back away, still taking aim and firing, missing only a few times, though it doesn’t seem to slow Rahzel down at all.

“HOOOONK!”

With a quick burst of flashstepping, he ends up right in front of the two, still running. His hands grab at both of their faces,throwing them down into the asphalt at the same time.

A few more bullets are sent into him, his neck catches one for dinner later. All the pain is set aside as he kneels down with the lackeys’ heads in his hands. Simultaneously, he lifts and bashes the back of their heads into the pavement, listening to their muffled pleas and threats. He keeps going, unable to parse the difference of the bashing with the heartbeat in his ears.

Dead. Dead. He wants them all just as dead as--

He drops the two when there is no more sign of life left in them. Rahzel stands up slowly, bringing the two guns from the corpses with him as he searches for the last one. Down the street, he can see him running away, and Rahzel also notices a crowd gathering around to observe this spectacle.

He doesn’t give a fuck. He takes off running, using his flashstepping until he’s close enough to stop and aim, using a gun for the first time in either lives he recalls. He closes one eye and starts shooting, missing once with one gun and finally hitting the guy in the back with the second gun. He tosses the useless hunks of metal away, making his way over to the squirming lackey.

His hearing is coming back and he listens to the pleading and crying through the faded ringing in his ears.

“I didn’t want a- FFuuck I DIdn’T WANT ANY PART OF THIS! Please don’t. I don’t wanna die. Not like this. Not this young.”

Rahzel kneels and turns the man on his back, reveling in his scream of pain. With his claws he swipes his hand across his throat, successfully slitting it, but not enough blood comes out, so he does it once more, before standing up and hobbling over towards the pile that is Troy.

He has to be careful- He could still be- He sees Troy’s eyes open and his chest tightens.

Fuck.

He kneels, the pain starting to make its way past the numbing rage. He gently closes Troy’s eyes, noticing how bad his own hand is shaking. No, no. no. He scoops him up slowly, taking him in his arms bridal style.

No.

No, no.

He can’t decide which pain is worse, the ones in his body or the one in his heart.

Heart. He decides it’s his heart as his eyes well up with tears. The dead weight in his arms only amplifies the pain.

Distant sounds of sirens pulls his eyes off Troy for a moment. The crowd outside has grown larger, shocked faces staring at him. At what he's done. What about what they did?

Rahzel stumbles away towards an alleyway, but he doesn't fall. He can't. There's no way he can drop Troy. He has to take him home.

Troy.

He never got his soul. It's gone.

Rahzel drops to his knees, sobbing in both anger and despair, lungs fighting against this action thanks to the new holes in them.

"FF-Hhhghk!"

He gurgles on the blood coming up from his lungs, looking down at Troy again. "Mh.."

His captchalogue modus opens and he looks up at it. Troy would fit perfectly in the free slot. He looks from the slot down to Troy’s face, past the blood. He has to go in there.

Just for a while, okay?

He’s captchalogued in an instant, leaving Rahzel freedom to pull out the portable transportalizer, his vision darkening at the corners of his eyes. His focus fades in and out as he slaps the button to the last location on the device. He’s sent into another world, another universe and spat out right in front of his cave’s entrance.

Dropping to his knees in the sand, Rahzel looks around at the familiar territory, then up towards the house, Simon’s house. He crawls that way, every movement causing him to wheeze and ache. Sand sticks to his pants thanks to the collection of blood on his clothes. His lungs, filled with blood instead of air, makes it hard to really breathe, doesn’t it?

“Ghk..kkh.”

As his vision continues to darken, Rahzel becomes more frantic to get to the house. He can’t pass out, not now- No, this isn’t passing out. He knows the difference and this is most certainly dying. No way can he die on this fucking sandy hill. Pathetic. Though, seeing how he’s crying and bleeding everywhere on his way up, it’s hard not to be seen as pathetic.

C’mon Rahzel, you’re only thirty feet from the door. Twenty. Ten.

He uses the doorknob to push himself to his feet, wheezing again from the sheer effort. With his fading strength, he slaps his palm against the door repeatedly, moving to lean on the frame instead of the doorknob. Wouldn’t want to just fall right into someone, right?

Rahzel’s legs feel like rubber as he keeps himself standing for as long as he can. His ears twitch as he hears the doorknob turn. When he sees Simon, he notices the face journey she has as she looks him over. He heaves out another cry, shuddering weakly as he brings himself to stand up straighter.

His voice, hoarse and scratching from the bullet that tore into his throat as well as from the blood making its way up it, comes out barely above a whisper, and he can only push out one word, his consciousness fading in and out.

“M.. mom..?”

Everything goes black for him as he falls forward almost right on top of Simon.

Good job dropping dead in front of your mom, asshole.

#action #Action Post #death #gore #cutemoniic #(for mention)#((ART BY CICIDRAWS!! COMMISSION HIM MAYBE?))

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anangelicday-mrwolf · 4 years ago

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Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 53 – Battle and Blight

‘Damn it. Damn it. Damn it...!’

Rael furiously grit his teeth, his eyes trembling, as he watched how the smoky trace of a small missile was slowly dissipating.

The fact that the missile was undoubtedly ejected towards the exact coordinates of the KSA headquarters fanned his fear.

He knew he must destroy the machine Yuhyung just activated.

He could not dare fire himself after the missile; the machine was still whirring under Yuhyung’s hand, and he did not want to be too hopeful and turn blind on the chances that the machine could shoot second or third or more of its missiles.

‘So he wasn’t after me.’

Technically, Deneb was after him, and he was willing to stage a battle right here, right now.

However, he did not want to simply eliminate Rael; he was going to make sure Rael will not be able to thwart Yuhyung’s plan, as proven by his poised stance as he stood between Rael and Yuhyung.

“That should be good enough to practically uproot the entire building, right?”

Asked Deneb, his head cocked a little towards the human.

“You’re correct, sir. And the area within the vicinity will be affected as well.”

“Good. Very good. I can’t make an accomplishment unless there’s something for me to accomplish. I’ll check things out as soon as I’m done here.”

That was when Rael at last released his shaky voice, and Deneb’s eyes directed themselves back onto the Kertia’s face as he was snickering.

“Are you saying you will use the innocent people here for your personal ambition? These people have already suffered on multiple basis, losing their homes and beloved without even knowing why. Why would you shove them into yet another pain? Just... Just why would you do this? Just how much of a big accomplishment do you wish for? Is it worthy enough to push others into forced sacrifice for?!”

“...Now I did not see this coming. You’re actually standing in favor of humans, when you used to be the most hardcore human-hater among our kind.”

Deneb’s eyebrows nearly touched his hairline, as if he were genuinely caught off guard by Rael’s speech, making Rael’s mouth automatically shut.

“Not to mention how you refuse to abort your courtesy, which I find even more surprising. I was expecting you to drop your formality, if not outright curse at me. I didn’t see this coming at all – you playing a head of a clan despite the situation.”

Playing a head of a clan?

Rael was so very inclined to bark at him, to demand if he has any idea what he goes through every single day, when at least for that very moment he was mortified to be dubbed with a title that Deneb also possesses.

Still, the Kertia managed to exercise every last bit of his patience to hold onto his remarks, upon which Deneb made a sinister smile.

“Or is this how you complain how much pressure and obsession you hold for your position? Is that why you are feigning all that elegance and poise and grace, when I wouldn’t be surprised to see Sir Gechutel or our lord to jab me with the most profane of all language? Yes, that must be it, seeing how you still look like... That.”

And what about my looks?

His anger was short-lived, however, and Rael’s hand slid across his face to touch on the bountiful lock of hair draped across a side of his head.

It was true that even after Deneb’s invitation, during which he screamed at Seira before he could stop himself, Rael had not relieved his hair of its new style, for a reason he could not fathom.

He knew he could not blame his tight schedule; it would have taken him mere 5 seconds before bed or during dress-up.

And of course, he told himself a lie when he thought that he did not know why.

It was one of his desperate endeavors to become a head of a clan that will make his father and brother proud – no, a head of a clan just like his brother. Hence he stylized himself in imitation of Razark.

Deneb nodded, seemingly having seen through this.

“So you’re feeling immense pressure for what you have at hand. Why don’t you take this opportunity to just die and hand over the title of the octaclan to me?”

Deneb blurted out, his manner so mundane as if sharing what he had done for the day.

Nevertheless, the contents of his speech were what Rael had not once imagined, and his mind that was very close to being scattered sharpened at once.

“You will die here. And you will not die Rael Kertia. You will die as a gruesomely shameless sinner, brought to justice by my hands.”

Rael’s mouth fell open beneath his mask, his eyes rolling at what Deneb was muttering.

“You lost your war against the patriarchs of Kertia and decided to bring Union into your vengeance upon Lukedonia. And I, Deneb Illiness, will be the one to stop you, betting my life for the task. And so I will save the humans who very nearly lost their future without the knowledge of the cause. Thus the Kertia clan will lose all its authority and radiance, just like the traitorous clans of Lukedonia, with a vacancy available among the octaclans. And I will not miss my chance to win Seira’s heart, since she is particularly fond of humans, as well as the lord’s recognition, to ultimately take over the Loyard clan and replace Kertia’s name with Illiness. That is my dream.”

Rael did not veil his stupor; Deneb’s plan was nothing short of what the traitorous heads of clans plotted against Raizel several centuries ago.

“All the evidence and testaments are ready, partially thanks to this human here. And you must be wondering why I’m spilling all this for you. Simple – you will not make out of this place alive. Like I said, dead men tell no tales.”

“...You think I’ll just watch you doing all that?”

With his head fully comprehensive of Deneb’s scheme, Rael could feel fury tinted with responsibility boiling within.

Ironing the corners of his lips and forehead clean of twitches and wrinkles, Rael fixed his edged eyes upon Deneb.

“What you are attempting is manipulation, calumny, and murder of your kind for your twisted ambition. Have you ever given a thought about what your ancestors would feel if they are to behold what...”

“I’m telling you, there’s reason why time is not altogether powerless upon us nobles. Just look at you, once-the-greatest-trouble-of-noblekind lecturing me, rubbing in my face how you switched your allegiance from anti-human propaganda to become a human-lover, keeping yourself well-mannered even now... Which isn’t like you.”

Not like me.

The idea what had been incessantly tormenting him and ridding him of his sleep ever since his permanent return to Lukedonia mauled upon his calm as if on a cue.

Which is why he could not react on time when Deneb lunged towards him, a rare occasion for him.

“Ugh!”

Deneb’s attack, his pointed hand as a weapon, was not even close to average.

Nonetheless, Rael got to learn how distraction or underestimation can backfire as a fatal weapon.

He succeeded in avoiding the hand that was aiming dead center towards his heart, but instead his shoulder was sliced, skin underneath exposed.

Deneb was relentless with his charges and blitz, obviously not willing to let Rael take the lead of their deadly dance.

Notwithstanding, Rael’s combat experience was still alive and breathing, and he did not change his mind about finishing this battle as quickly as possible.

Which is why once again he called forth his Grandia.

And once again his soul weapon did not return his call.

Deneb made a sickening smile, in the course of his survey on the blonde noble.

“Normally I would have been less than a snort to you. But I heard from that human your soul weapon is unavailable for now.”

Rael made a humongous flinch as he evaded a series of razor-sharp strokes from Deneb’s hands, in the meantime peeking at the human researcher who was awfully peaceful in his observation.

“And I know that you want to capture me, not kill me. You wouldn’t want any of the evidence or testament I mentioned to be published posthumously.”

Deneb smirked like a child at an amusement park as he bickered.

“Given that your soul weapon is not responsive while you are not allowed to kill me, I will surely have a chance against you!”

Rael could no longer hide his dismay, his eyes captivated by Deneb throwing himself forward once more.

“Goddamn it...!”

*****

Meanwhile, at the KSA headquarter

“What the hell is going on here?!”

M-21 shrieked, trying his best to deliver his voice past the ear-splintering siren.

The men gathered at KSA director’s office were in the middle of panic, once the siren ripped its way through all floors, following the duet of a light quake and shatters of glass and concrete.

“What happened?!”

The doctor yelled in frenzy to the transmission just delivered to Taesik’s phone on the desk.

<S-sir, a mini missile just penetrated the wall of the night shift duty room, 4th floor!>

Although it was the time of the day when KSA building is mostly unoccupied, there were few people who were staying overnight for work or getting some shuteye in the said chamber, which was the most densely populated area as of now.

The party’s faces turned pale; they could already see the massacre that took place on the 4th floor.

“So... What’s the casualty?”

Taesik squeezed his voice box in inquiry; as the head of the KSA, he was painfully aware that being dumbstruck with grief was not an option for him.

<Uh... None, it seems.>

“What are you talking about? I can hear the siren as we speak.”

<I-it appears that this missile is not meant to detonate or destroy lives. It resembles a capsule, so I’m guessing it was designed to carry and spray someth... Huh?>

The four humans did not like that the agent’s speech was met with a question mark at the end; unnerved, they repeatedly crossed and exchanged looks with each other.

<W-what the...?! Sir, this missile is releasing gas...!>

Gas? What gas?

Wait a minute.

Could it be the...?

At that point they were reminded of THE gas – the one that Yuhyung used to study as a weapon against Union-affiliated modified humans.

The gas that could not be calibrated as needed in targeting their desired foes, because of which it was canceled and disposed of.

And about which its file was opened and scrutinized by its composer before his departure to Lukedonia.

Without a single word dispensed, they sprinted to the 4th floor.

They had no patience to spare for the elevator to pick them up, so they chose the stairs, which was already clouded with gas that was permeating from the 4th floor.

Taesik and the doctor led the way, their mouths and noses covered with handkerchiefs just in case, and Tao and M-21 soon found themselves at the night shift duty room, the floor hardly visible due to milky-gray smoke.

And they saw a hole with debris dropping from the corners, with beds and desks tossed away from their original positions.

“This is bad. Looks like some of the gas leaked outside on the streets.”

Tao added after poking his head beyond the hole.

“But is it just me, or this smoke kind of... Sticky?”

“I was thinking the same thing, too. That guy must have done something to...”

At then, the doctor and Taesik groaned and wobbled on their feet, and their bodies hit the floor when Tao and M-21 looked behind them.

“Sir! Doctor!”

The two RK’s kneeled to inspect them, and that was when they realized they were surrounded by at least half dozen KSA agents and employees that had lost conscious prior to their arrival.

“What are we supposed to do?”

“Uh... F-first, let’s move them somewhere safe. For now we could make use of the lab that’s...”

Slap!

When Tao reached out towards one man, his hand viciously yanked Tao’s wrist in his grip.

‘W-what in the...?!’

Tao crooked his brows, the man’s force far past moderate, firm enough to astonish a modified human like him.

And the owner of the hand slowly raised himself, his eyes gleaming dangerously, his movement reminiscent of something that people would usually see in zombie films.

The other agents and employees rose in mimicry, their eyes in synchronization as they gazed at Tao and M-21.

The two men froze in sensing how things were definitely taking the wrong turn, and soon enough their audience emitted low growls.

(next chapter)

And thus begin the battle and blight... *Dun dun dun* It surely is a challenge trying to feature separate places all at once as the highlight of this fic is unfolded, but I will do my best. Once this battle is past, the finale will be staged very soon lol. I’m almost there, and I won’t stop until I make it! :D

#korean webcomic #korean webtoon #fanfic #noblesse #frankenstein #lunark #frankensteinxlunark #lunarkxfrankenstein #wolfsbane #Mr.Wolf #AnAngelicDay

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news-ase · 4 years ago

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all-good-things-dot-dot-dot · 4 years ago

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All Good Things… The Good With the Bad.

All Good Things… The Good With the Bad. #Blog #Bloggerstribe #AllGoodThings… 24th June 2020 Hello, Chaps and Chapettes,

(Source: https://www.keengamer.com/articles/guides/list-of-common-fallout-4-pc-errors-and-how-to-fix-them/ ) It might have seemed like I stopped for a little bit there, huh? In actual fact, I have still been writing, but more or less in the background rather than doing a full-on post like this. Does that mean I’ve been “neglecting my duties” or “forgetting the challenge” I set myself to write for thirty minutes a day? Well, sort of. I cannot lie. Let’s see if we can analyze what happened here and correct the error, shall we? The main hiccup was actually on Friday where I did not write anything at all. I did end up writing that blog on Saturday and followed it up with the actual Saturday blog which I wrote and posted on Sunday, but by then I was already going back on several guidelines that I’d set myself. The first was to ensure that I wrote thirty minutes a day, this was missed on Friday, and the second was to have a break on Sunday.

I’ll come back to Friday in a bit and how I’ll resolve that in the future but I also want to talk about why Monday and Tuesday also didn’t happen. Monday was an oddly exhausting day. The heat has been creeping up this week, today being the hottest so far, but Monday was still cool. I had to take a nap after work and then when I did sit down to write, what I wanted to write was not one of these. Instead, I wanted to work on “Scoundrels”, a story about colorful ponies living in apocalyptic times. They swear, take drugs, shoot guns, it’s fun to write. The reason I wanted to write that, was because on Tuesday I attended an online workshop by a fellow writer who goes by the codename “Somber”. I know there’s non-bronies who read this on my Tumblr so, to summarise, they wrote a particularly famous FanFiction called “Fallout Equestria; Project Horizons”, millions of peeps have read it. It’s also a spin-off from an equally successful story called “Fallout: Equestria” (written by another fanfiction writer, KKat). Somber has a background teaching English so a class on Creative Writing was practically extra studies for my university course!

(Art by me, see https://derpibooru.org/images/2200843 )

The workshop was brilliant. Unfortunately, I didn’t get to workshop my story as we ran out of time but I didn’t feel too down about this. I made friends with a few other fellow writers and so could happily learn and share ideas with them. This ran on quite late and by the time it had ended, the clock was telling me I wouldn’t wake up for work if I didn’t attempt to sleep. That, neatly, leads me to today. As you can see, although I’ve had a busy day of work, walking to and from the shops and watching “Game Night” with my brother, I still managed to find the time to write this. That’s because tonight I had the time. That’s important. Friday, the time wasn’t there. I had to be there for a friend who was in need and since my chat, I have it on good authority that their life is looking up. Sunday was father’s day and I wanted to see both dad and stepdad, which I accomplished. Both men had a great day and felt loved, which was another mission accomplished. Sunday night was blitzed by a migraine and it took two paracetamol two hours to put those fires in my brain out. Monday, as said, was a very tiring day. But I also spent time writing something, even if it wasn’t this. So there was still something completed by the close of the day. Tuesday, there was work, I had my mother pop over for something, I had to cook dinner, and despite all of this still managed to make Somber’s workshop and find writing allies. Do you see where I’m going with this? Basically, just because you don’t get done what you wanted to do, do not look at it as a wasted day. Even a rest day is a success, so long as it is used to let you prepare for some harder work ahead. You are not failing if you didn’t hit that word count, or forgot to do something you wanted to do, or missed that walk to slim down the spare tractor tyre your gut has become. Even little accomplishments are still a win in the grand scheme of things and believe me they make all the difference. And sometimes, if someone you know, care about, or love is in need of you, then you should down tools to help them. Let me reiterate that it should be somebody you care about or at least someone who will return the favor along the line. There are people, even family, who can be a drain on your time, resources, and energy. I learned that the hard way last week (see my blog about bullies). Follow your head in these instances, especially if it is aligned with your heart. Most of all, I want you to take this away with you. Did you wake up today? Do you know how many didn’t get out of bed? Pulled a sickie? Or gave up? You didn’t so in that sense you’re already winning. Now go treat yourself to some cake, champ, you earned it. Stay safe, stay happy. All good things, Love, Scaramouche. X Oh, eerrrr, still here? Okay, let me square with you. Thirty mins just ran out but I wanted to include this; I am writing a spin-off of that “Fallout: Equestria,” series too, as I mentioned, called “Scoundrels”. I did have a lot of the story already up in my FIMFiction library, but I have unpublished it. Here are my reasons; I didn’t like how confusing it was. It felt like it started in the middle of a story. I had made choices as a writer that took the story in some strange directions. I made the plot too complicated. I made some of the good characters unlikeable. I made it too long while not much/ too much happened. So, I am holding onto what I wrote. I want to rewrite it, so that story that you may or may not have read does still exist and isn’t a waste of time, it just needs surgery. When it’s ready, you’ll be able to see it again. Until then, here’s a sneak peek at “Scoundrels”, the ponies of the apocalypse story I will be writing, have edited and polished before I publish it as fanfiction. Enjoy!

(Artist: Brainiac - see https://derpibooru.org/profiles/Brainiac ) ~ Scoundrels Written by Scaramouche “War,” a voice, masculine and gravelly, haunted my hangover. “War never changes.” It wasn’t much, but it was enough to stir me from where I’d attempted to make my early grave. My snout had the telltale feeling you got when you accidentally snorted water while submerged in a pool... Or hit too much Dash. I pushed my hooves out around me before my eyes were able to open and felt tiny canisters rattle away from me wherever I moved. My ribs hurt, telling me I hadn’t found a nice or even barely comfortable place to flop. The information fed back to me from all my senses came to the conclusion that I’d bucked up again. Daring to wake, I cracked my eyes open for as long as I could muster and fluttered the lids ‘til I could make out the shapes of a flickering square of light in the night-time room. Black and white images flashed through the screen of ponies dressed in armor and uniforms, those in the foreground attempting an escape with their wounded while the “best and bravest” continued to fight, to injure, to die. The image changed to Wonderbolts tearing over a coal cloud that once belonged to a shining city. I realized it was Manehattan, the place I’d hailed from. I knew from the shadow of a building topped with a huge pony head choking on the fumes. The Pegasi just seemed like haunting crows over that havoc. After the Manehattan skyline lingered for a few seconds, it switched to a shot taken behind ponies hiding from the invisible foe in a shady tunnel. Their silhouettes were huddled and perpetually expecting the worst of what was to come. Image after image along with the low, tedious voice seemed to mingle with the throbbing headache I’d gained. It reminded me that as gloomy as these images were, they were only the precursor for the apocalyptic times that came after them. I watched, laid lazily on my side among spent stims I’d used to forget the woes of the new world. I couldn’t help thinking that those dumb saps who had lived nearly a hundred years ago never knew how lucky they were. They could still trust the folks either side of them and that was more than could be said for most ponies this side of a century. “... But out of the devastation that arose from the wars, a few were able to reach stables that could house and shield them underground.” The narrator of the scenes kept going with his spiel regardless of whether I was listening or not. I looked about, but it quickly became apparent to me that the voice was just that. A recording from a stallion no doubts long gone now. There was nopony else in the place but for me that I could see. Nonetheless, he persisted. “Your family was part of that group and took refuge in Stable Thirteen.” On-screen, a snap of the giant cog that had once locked up this subterranean vault could be seen. “No, they weren’t, pal,” I grouched, squinting about the area still while battling with some persistently annoying amber locks of mane in my eyes. Something in this place was still trying to live, based on the squealing of a harmed fan spinning in the walls. Thanks to the projection lamp, I could see the tiles that dripped from the ceilings as age and erosion pulled them down. Wires knotted into nooses hung out from the ceiling gaps. Across dirty, rusted floors, the corpses of chairs lay on their sides and backs, stricken by the last unknown executions that had taken place here. Near me and my graveyard of used drug containers, a card crate lay on its side in a beaten state. “You are the first generation born in this stable to have not known the-the-the--” Apparently, I still wasn’t to know what “the” was. Above me, the box that had created this depressing light and sound show for me fizzed, crackled, sparked, then died. All light failed and draped a veil casually over me and space. Yet, this wasn’t as terrifying to me as might have been to somepony else. I sighed, relaxed, and let the gentle black patch encourage my head to heal. The festering stable was dead, the complaining sounds of the vents now a memory, and it was good. It was calming. I could maybe forget everything and fall back into a graceful slumber with it. After all, a ship in the harbor is a ship that’s safe... Of course, fate intervened. “Breeze! Breeze, where are you?” The voice was distant, but it was growing closer. “Gypsy Breeze, I swear on the spirit of Celestia, if you don’t get your ass into gear…” Fresh, battery-powered light began to dawn around the edges of the forever-open doorway into the corridors, confirming that the calling, living voice wasn’t far from finding me. “Buck,” I grunted to myself and pushed back the pain sloshing side to side in my cranium. I had to get myself up before they found me and the evidence littered around me. My legs complained but lifted me, allowing me to stand and let my brain cease paddling about in my skull. I swung a hoof out, brought it down, then my face immediately met the oxidized floor once more as a giggling Dash inhaler tripped me and twirled away. “Breeze?” They’d heard my tumble. “Buck,” I hissed painfully and scrambled back up, firing up a spell. I knew the caller in the halls would see the light but hoped I’d be quick enough. Despite the magic throbbing behind my junked-out eyes, I gathered all the emptied Dash I could see in the enchanted light. Catching as many as I could levitate, I shoved them into the deteriorated box, managing to slip the last of them away when a blinding orb swung through the door. I covered my bleary eyes and snarled out at a feeling only a vampire pony in the baking sun would understand. “Gypsy!” The dazzling sprite squeaked. “That’s my name— Buck, Hayfever, could you drop the light of that thing? My bucking eyes are about to explode…” mercifully, the beam lowered to ground level, allowing me to partially see the mare I knew behind it. Her sunset orange wings were spread in preparation to once more admonish me while the expression on the pegasus remained concerned. “You split from me again, Breeze. Ottawa said this stable is particularly dangerous, we shouldn’t be going off alone when--” “Ottawa was wrong,” I skulked somehow towards the door and waved my hoof back the way she’d come from. “I caught a terminal back up that way and… I dunno, something about the water talisman failing? Either way, the pony meant to fix it shuffled out the main door, and never came back. After that, the rest of the dwellers overthrew the overstallion and let themselves out of their own accord. Probably likely that nopony’s been here since.” If I’d have sounded more sure of myself in that last comment, I might not have seen doubt spread across her freckled, gold-lit face. “No, somepony has been here before us,” she suggested, “I found the mattresses pulled out of their rooms and laid together in the atrium. There was waste and broken gear that could only have come from outside too. Could be scavs, could be raiders, either way, we don’t want to take our chances.” “It could have easily been the Stable Thirteen ponies too,” I countered, “especially if they were going back and forth in and out of here, not wanting to--” I interrupted myself, as a false step kicked something, which ricocheted off of the metal wall and swirled unfortunately into the light of Hayfever’s torch. It only took her a second to realize what it was and I was already cringing guiltily when the light raised back accusingly at me. “Gypsy Breeze, you silly mare,” she scolded as well as any experienced mother could, “Using? Again? I thought you were beating this.” “It’s not mine,” I played the part of a lying teenager as best as I could, “it’s from those raiders you were bitching about--” “Oh, so now we believe in the raiders?” She had another quick examination of the inhaler and sighed, ruffling her wings in irritation as she walked past me, ensuring her hoofsteps echoed her annoyance. “When I agreed to hide your troubles from the rest of Helping Hooves, it was on the promise that you were going to make an effort to quit from them. Not so that you could privately indulge in the stuff.” She collected my saddlebag, discarded on a spineless chair, and was about to toss it to me when she had second thoughts. At my protests, she flipped the flap open first and rifled through up, digging out what she had expected to find almost instantly. Five more full inhalators of Dash were plucked out and tossed into the void of the room before she was comfortable returning my near-empty sack to me. “I’m not doing it to be an ass to you, Gypsy,” she said as I mournfully took the bag and slipped it back on. “As mayor of Helping Hooves I have a duty to look out for everypony and that includes you. But if you’re going to endanger lives this way, I’ll have no choice but…” I waited for what kind of penalty she’d place on me. Yet, all she could do was gaze at me, not mad, just disappointed. I gave a low groan, both out of the pain of coming down and the guilt of letting down a mare who was just looking out for my best interests. “Can we just get out of here?” I pleaded, “the air in here is making me feel sick.” “You sure it’s just the air?” She thrust a hoof forward, directing me on the way to head next. “But you’re right. Let’s just get the spark batteries Ottawa needs and high-tail it out of here…” To be continued...

(Source: https://thegeek.games/2020/03/24/fallout-3-war-war-never-changes-retro-2008/ )

#fallout #blog #writing #challenge #brony #equestria #my little pony #friendship #new vegas

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fitnessenhancementfr · 4 years ago

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