#honestly I just lack damage with the daggers

[fleetinggabi]

Currently fighting Malenia for my second ever playthrough (first was on release on the damn ps4 so it was *challenging* on that frame rate), this would be the first time I beat her without any type of help and im also now doing a dagger build so it's hard yet extremely fun!!

[raineandsky]

hey i just recently discovered your acc and I'm honestly in love with your work! I don't know if you do requests but just in case you do,could you maybe do a snippet of supervillain capturing hero and torturing for months until they suddenly got bored of them and ordered villain to get rid of them for good. Basically villain doesn't know that it was hero they were ordered to kill by supervillain and when they entered the cell where hero was to kill them,they suddenly recognize hero and become extremely suprised by what they saw. Villain for some reason can't bring themselves to kill hero and just stands there for who knows how long whilst trying to decide what they should do as hero just layed there slightly unconcious full of bruises,wounds,cuts, burns and dried up blood all over their body. Sorry if this was long hehe,feel free to continue it (if you want to of course) :)

welcome to the gang, glad to have you here!! thank you for the request, i hope you like it :D

-

A curse tumbles from the villain’s mouth before they can stop it.

Of all the people the supervillain has caught, has been bragging about catching, why was it hero? The hero should know better. The villain knows they know better.

The villain’s never seen them so… defeated. They’ve thrown their fair share of punches, of course, but they’ve never quite managed to have them half-conscious on the floor like this. Crimson paints their skin in crazed patches, black circles smudged underneath them, rope digging violently into their already reddened wrists. The hero lets out some half-hearted noise as the villain nudges their clothes back to survey the damage better.

Bad. Very bad. It’s a miracle the hero’s still alive, but that’s what they do, isn’t it? Survive despite the odds. The villain gets back to their feet with a scowl. Where the hell did the supervillain find them? Why would the hero let this happen? Probably to protect some random civilian, the villain knows that, but still.

The hero’s eyes open, kind of, unfocused and glazed over. They get a front seat view of the villain’s shoes and, for whatever mindless reason, weakly reach their bound hands out towards them.

The villain takes a half step back, more on instinct than anything, and despite the lack of… well, anything in the hero’s expression, they can somehow still see the slight distressed crumple of their face.

Fuck. Their heart stings, even though it knows better.

No, they think sourly. You’re here to get rid of them. Don’t show weakness. Show [Supervillain] what you are.

The villain’s dagger is inside their coat. It’d be so easy. Nothing more than a shallow, red line across the hero’s throat. Easy. Kind. Merciful.

They step forwards again, ever-so-slightly, and bend back down to the hero’s level. Their hands are where they left them, abandoned in their desperate attempt at connection, and the villain nudges their foot between their fingers in potentially the biggest show of compassion they've ever have.

It’s a kindness, right? The hero would appreciate it. It would be the nicest thing the villain’s ever done for them.

But it wouldn’t, even the villain knows that. The hero doesn’t want to die any more than they do.

Every passing second is throwing more doubts over what they’re doing here. They need to make a choice before the supervillain decides they’ve been down here too long. They need to act before they can change their mind.

The villain pulls their blade from inside their coat,

and cuts the rope at the hero’s wrists.

[foulfeast]

I feel like the weapon of choice for tempus should be daggers. He could fuck up some dual daggers

Btw they exclusively only use they/them!

OKOKOKOK this is actually a rly interesting subject and I'm gonna have to give just a bit of bg on this and ramble a bunch.

On Tempus Edax Rerum & weapons and fighting techniques

Tempus Edax Rerum is specifically trained to fight devils, ghosts and beasts. Against an average human they're... honestly almost like a rolling tank of unstoppable force... this is a) just a shit ton of training b) they do have some blessings (as in spells) that make them tougher.

I'm still a bit unsure how I'm gonna handle the more fantastical creatures in this world, so I might change my mind at some point??? However, they are. Powerful! And I think the best way to take care of the ones causing trouble is to exorcise/idk what the right word here would be here but smth of the sort/banish them. This would take the form of incapacitating them in some way, binding them and doing some kinda rites. The rites I'm going for here, I don't think Tempus Edax Rerum will be reading from a book or anything, idk how they will go but i'll have fun w it at some point i'll work on it.

But yeah- generally, Tempus Edax Rerum actually prefers hand to hand combat and blunt weapons! They just prefer how tactile it is, also, they like how strong it makes them look & feel 💀 i'd say they do have some daggers though, I rly like the visual of some hanging from their belt. I'd say it's like, either iron/silver or sm other metal that's like, not super great but moreso meant to damage fantastical creatures. Those would be for the big guys.

The one weapon they absolutely refuse to use is guns. They're pretty rudamentary in this world but Tempus Edax Rerum has a distaste for using them. They know HOW to, but they hate those thangs. Slow and clumsy, but most importantly, lack contact, they're too easy in Tempus Edax Rerums mind.

[septembersghost]

I never understood why taylor was THAT heartbroken with jake untill I read an article about dating older men. They have much more life experience compared to young girls. These girls would do everything they can to impress them and would put them on the pedestal. While I don't think jake was grooming her I think he was a bit of a narcissist who enjoyed her idolising him. He also made sure he had the power in that relationship without her realising it. She never felt she was 'enough' to please him and he always pointed out things he didn't like about her.[source begin again and IBYTAM].It is also interesting that the same taylor who wrote mean let someone devalue her that much because she was in 'love'. I think Taylor calling him 'twin flame' wasn't because of their mutual great love but as a result of her idolisation and lack of real dating experience.Him being her first might also play into it. If 25 year old Taylor dated him there is no way he would inspire something similar to red even if she hadn't fallen in love with anyone else yet.(Sorry for the rant. My head is kind of a mess right now with all these points)

you can rant! i'm sorry when it takes me a while to reply.

so i'm going to approach this somewhat differently, because i always understood her depth of heartbreak on red, but sometimes i think that's because she and i are wired quite similarly in certain respects (or i over-empathize, which is probably it). taylor is a highly sensitive person and a romantic (she's a loves love romantic, she's also a capital-r Romantic), she feels things deeply, she also badly internalizes pain and harm. i think you have to factor in not only the power dynamic at play here, but also what happened directly beforehand (namely, john). that was a far more sinister situation, but it...spun her out, and she may have sought something that felt mature and beautiful not only as a way to escape it, but as a way to affirm to herself that she was worthwhile. it's not uncommon for victims of abusive situations to land in something similar (and i believe john was abusive on some level). jake seems like a reprieve after john, a better choice - older but gentler, more of an intellectual, not perceived as a "bad boy" - until you scratch beyond the surface. she had no way of knowing that until it was too late. earning love and respect from a man like that is going to feel validating and even like a bit of a high, especially after a different older man you idolized made you feel damaged and worthless.

honestly i think in a lot of situations, even with very different dynamics, we go grasping for anyone that might make us feel loved and embraced after someone else we loved does severe damage. when i was struggling terribly with overlapping kinds of loss and difficult transition in my life, i gave all that love to someone who severely traumatized me, and the situations with both the person i was trying to recover from and the person who ended up making it infinitely worse are totally different from what happened with taylor, but speak now and red have also always resonated with them completely. i was 22 (a very, very sheltered and shy and naive 22. though sometimes i am still that now due to circumstances!), and i just wanted someone who would cherish me and listen and understand, and thought i had found that, and it was absolutely not the case and was instead...VERY dark. i have intense self-worth issues and am also prone to people pleasing to an extreme and and am also very soft-hearted, and the combination of all the things that happened to me made me want to die. because the feeling of loss and rejection came from people i loved. people who said fate had brought us together, people who called me a soul mate, people who i thought would always be in my future, and then they drew their daggers and aimed for my heart.

the difference between the entirety of red and a singular track like mean is in that emotional attachment. she really, completely loved him. the belittlement, the warning signs, none of that registered initially, because the love felt powerful. she didn't have any emotional attachment at all towards the subject of mean, he's just a cranky jerk critic. some man saying something about her professionally and activating her sharp pen is not at all similar to intense heartbreak from a man she was in love with and dreamed of having a future with and felt was as close as home. and not trying to defend jake here (because. ugh), but i do think he loved her. i just think he, as she has said, had his demons, and didn't know HOW to love her without also being damaging and condescending and unstable. (he said once part of why he was awful in the relationship is because he loved her too much and was scared, and i tried to find this but instead stumbled across something that made me furious asdkjdkjf). the point is that it was mutual, but he was fucked up and ultimately hurtful. i don't think she's deluding herself when she notices all the moments he loves her too, that's...the thesis of all too well. it was rare, you were there, you remember it. that's sad beautiful tragic, i almost do, the last time, state of grace. all that was very real for her, and you don't tend to feel that unless it's returned. there's a massive contrast between the way she writes about jake and the way she writes about john (who did not return her love), even though ultimately both end in ruin and heartbreak. and when she couldn't earn the value and respect she craved, she kept going back to him for the intimacy because at least that was something they had, and i think...a lot of harm came from that too. imho it's not quite beholding the entirety of the story of red to think that love wasn't mutual, and that even he was hurt despite it being of his own damn making. the tragedy isn't one sided, he's integral to it. i know the guys who hurt and used and mistreated me, and who were liars and narcissists, also, unfortunately, loved me. it makes the ache worse. it makes the scars deeper, and the wreckage harder to sift through, because people who love us aren't supposed to hurt us. but sometimes they do, and it's awful, and it's not our fault. and sometimes we love people much more than they do us, and more than perhaps they deserve, but it doesn't make that not real. would've could've should've isn't love, but the beginning of maroon is. dear john isn't love, but all too well is. ours and superman really idolize their subject, but i'm not sure i'd say that anything on red is quite as starry-eyed as it is longing. she loved, and she yearned to be loved as much in return, and she wasn't.

with begin again, this was posted, and it speaks directly to this subject. "there was something dark and adult about what i had experienced. you should keep some element of childhood - that wonderment and ability to laugh." my breath caught a little at, "home reminds me of comfort, and comfort was what i never had in the previous relationship" because it...adds context to/belies "used to call home"/"felt like home" in that she believed she had comfort, but it always turned dark, turned to tears, turned to put downs. it made her feel special, then it made her feel small. when you think you've found a home with someone...when you think you have that twin flame with them, that soul connection, you do anything to convince yourself to keep it, until you can't because you're going to disappear or burn yourself down. a soldier returning half her weight. did the love affair maim you too?

also i wouldn't necessarily say that 25 year old taylor is more substantively different than 20/21 year old taylor, except she was battle-scarred and weary and jaded. she was sadly still with someone who didn't see her worth and made her feel like she was never enough. she was still with someone who belittled her art and talent. i think she felt dead and hopeless inside for quite a while (which breaks my heart), and every single one of those situations is connected. (harry doesn't have the diminishment aspect or the disrespect towards her of course!, but the tumultuous uncertainty still took a real toll, especially following jake.) i have a feeling that was all she felt she deserved, or all she'd ever really have. anxiety or loneliness. until joe. (a string that pulled me out of all the wrong arms right into that dive bar, something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire, chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons). all that said, i don't doubt for a moment that all the love she's felt and given has been very real for her, and that's why she's so gifted at putting it into words.

[ajentmm]

Princess of Bern Weapon Refine Theorycraft

Okay, so . . . Princess of Bern banner. The last Binding Blade banner we got was March of 2019, so it was about time. It featured fan favorite characters like Guinivere, Melady, Dieck, and . . . Merlinus.

Merlinus: Pherae's Clerk

Lvl. 40 5 ☆ 50/20/35/31/27               Max Invest: 59/28/44/40/35

Smoke Dagger+: After combat, if unit attacked, inflicts Atk/Spd/Def/Res-6 on foes within 2 spaces of target through their next actions. (after refining)

Reposition – Wings of Mercy 3 – Distant Guard 3

Merlinus, who is a recruitable unit, but not necessarily playable, as he served as the “all-important” convoy, with no abilities outside of this. In Binding Blade, he had a horse and trolly, and in Blazing Blade, he had to promote to get the ability to move. Maybe if he could rescue and transport allies like the wagons in Wargroove, he’d have more utility. Needless to say, he is a joke in FEH character. With the lowest Atk in the game, his benefits come from his calvary movement pair with his weapon, the smoke dagger, which attacks at a distant and debuffs enemies for your allies to help. This is the goal, make a character that you benefit having on the team, without them actually attacking.

Merchant’s Virtue: At start of turn, grants Atk/Spd/Def/Res+6, "neutralizes unit's penalties during combat," and [Null Panic] to unit and allies with HP < unit’s HP for 1 turn. At start of combat, if unit's HP ≥ 25%, grants Atk/Spd/Def/Res+4 to unit during combat. After combat, if unit attacked, inflicts Atk/Spd/Def/Res-6 on foes within 2 spaces of target through their next actions.

This is basically Gerik’s weapon, just without the Pulse ability and the additional Def/Res. He also keeps the Smoke Dagger ability. This makes him a great counter for beginners against the onslaught of de-buffers we get.

If a movement Assist skill (like Reposition, Shove, Pivot, etc.) is used by unit or targets unit, grant [Canto (1)] and [Bonus Doubler] to unit and target ally or unit and targeting ally for 1 turn. If unit initiates combat or if unit is within 2 spaces of an ally, grants Atk/Spd/Def/Res+4 to unit, and also, if unit’s Atk < foe’s Atk - 5, foe cannot counterattack.

Since Merlinus has Reposition, I thought of giving him a Link skill, but since he is already giving +6 to all stats, I had to give bonus statuses. So, I when with Bonus Doubler and Canto (1) cuz . . . That’s what Legendary Eliwood grants, and he and Merlinus share a connection. The issue is it works like a Link skill, so it will cost Merlinus his turn or someone moving him. Of course, there would be no way for him to really fight in combat, and you likely got this refine effect for him to fight in combat somewhat. So I thought, just give him Windsweep but make it so he needs less Atk than his opponent, which is basically guaranteed.

Melady: Crimson Rider

Lvl. 40 5 ☆ 41/40/33/41/17               Max Invest: 50/49/41/50/25

Instant Lance+: If unit initiates combat, grants Atk/Def+4 during combat and foe cannot make a follow-up attack.

Bonfire – Atk/Def Solo 4 – Wyvern Flight

M’lady. I honestly have no opinion on her as a character from her own game, so he’s just another flying lance hero.

Ah, Wyvern Flight, the worst version of an already worst skill Pegasus Flight. A majority of heroes you will face have high Spd or Def, and beating both of those takes effort, rather than beating Res. Not to mention, those with low Def are going to die easily to your lance, since those trading Def for Res tend to lack HP or Damage Reduction on enemy phase. The exception to this are dragon shapeshifters, but they don’t so much trade Def for Res but have slightly more stats to put into both. This skill is basically to bully mages and mage killing archers and thieves. Melady is built for this skill, with her max invested being beaten by Arion, Jill, and of course, Spring! Maria and Rosado. The last two introduced new upgrades to Wyvern themed B-slots, with Flow Flight and Wyvern Rift. Wyvern Rift grants true damage, and true damage reduction, guaranteed follow-up, prevent follow-up, and a special effect the necessary amount of Spd the foe must be over be 25 from the unit’s Spd. If you gave that skill to Melady, she would get all this if the foe has less than 103 Spd and Def combine, she gets all the benefits. The foe would need 66 Spd (or inflicts more Spd penalties) and has NFU, then they can double her. So . . . why does her weapon already prevent follow-up attacks?

Wyvern Lance: If unit initiates combat or is within 2 spaces of an ally, inflict Atk/Spd/Def-4 on foe and neutralizes effects that guarantee foe's follow-up attacks and effects that prevent unit's follow-up attacks during combat, and also, if unit's Def > foe's Def, reduces damage from attacks during combat and from area-of-effect Specials (excluding Røkkr area-of-effect Specials) by percentage = difference between stats × 4 (max 40%).

At start of combat, if unit's HP ≥ 25%, inflict Atk/Spd/Def-4 on foe and neutralizes effects that grant "Special cooldown charge +X" to foe or inflict "Special cooldown charge -X" on unit during combat, and also, if unit's attack can trigger unit's Special and unit's Spd+Def ≥ foe's Spd+Def-5 during combat (excluding effects from【Phantom】), grants Special cooldown count-2 to unit before unit's first attack during combat. At start of combat, if unit's HP ≥ 25%, restores 7 HP to unit after combat.

I am going to be real with you. I just give her a re-flavoured Airborne Spear from Fiora. This weapon does still pair well with Wyvern Rift, with no overlapping effects, so I hope it works well.

Dieck: Wounded Tiger

Lvl. 40 5 ☆ 40/40/35/36/25               Max Invest: 49/49/43/45/33

Tiger-Roar Axe: Accelerates Special trigger (cooldown count-1). If unit initiates combat or if unit is within 2 spaces of an ally, grants Atk/Spd/Def/Res+5 during combat, and also, at start of combat, if foe's HP = 100%, unit makes a guaranteed follow-up attack.

Luna – Close Def 4 – Null Follow-Up 3 – Threat. Atk/Def 3

Another Axe bro, but at least he’s a 5 star with a perf to work with. Dieck is here with a NFU Guaranteed-follow-up combo, just like our above Wyvern Rift Melady. His weapon is very similar to Arcane Weapons; it’s just missing 2 more effects and has one unnecessary condition. Let’s spruce it up now.

Tiger-Roar Axe: Accelerates Special trigger (cooldown count-1). If unit initiates combat or if unit is within 2 spaces of an ally, grants Atk/Spd/Def/Res+X during combat (X = 5 + damage dealt to unit at the start of combat, Max 14, if foe’s HP = 100%, X = 14), unit makes a guaranteed follow-up attack, and foe cannot make a follow-up attack.

So I when with, the omni breaker effect, but I included the berserker effect that comes from the wounded tiger. If he has 9 or more damage at the start of combat, he gets 14. If the foe has 100% HP, he still gets 14, just cuz I know damaging yourself for bonuses is something FEH has been shifting away from. This is just my bandage to it.

At start of combat, if foe initiates combat or foe’s HP ≥ 75%, inflict Atk/Spd/Def-4 on foe, reduce damage from foe’s first attack by 40% (brave exception*), and neutralizes effects that grant "Special cooldown charge +X" to foe or inflict "Special cooldown charge -X" on unit during combat, and also, if unit's attack can trigger unit's Special, grants Special cooldown count-X to unit before unit's first attack during combat (if unit’s HP X ≤ 75%, X = 3, if unit’s HP ≤ 99%, X = 2, otherwise X = 1)

And to continue with this trend, he gets Tempo, 40% damage reduction on first hit(s), and special jump. Most of the time, it will be Special Jump of 1, but if you do have some damage, it’s 2, if it’s 10-12 HP below the max, it’s 3, which is a little extra to by past Scowl effect. I when with X% DR instead of TDR because then there’s a better chance of getting that 1 chip damage for the Special Jump.

Guinivere: Princess of Bern

Lvl. 40 5 ☆ 36/35/40/16/38               Max Invest: 45/43/49/24/47

Aureola: Effective against magic foes. Grants Res+3. If unit initiates combat or if unit is within 2 spaces of an ally, grants Atk/Spd/Res+5 and disables foe's skills that "calculate damage using the lower of foe's Def or Res" during combat. Restores 7 HP to unit and allies within 2 spaces after combat.

Iceberg – Atk/Res Push 4 – Lull Atk/Res 3 – Joint Drive Res

Guinivere, an NPC who is unobtainable in the game, but can be played with in trial maps. She was unlockable after beating the game nine times. This was what replay-ability was back then. She’s got a tome that is effective against mages, making her a mage killer mage. Since Guinivere got a Legendary Alt, this will be easy.

Aureola: Effective against magic foes. Grants Res+3. If unit initiates combat or if unit is within 2 spaces of an ally, grants Atk/Spd/Res+5 and disables foe’s skills that “calculate damage using the lower of foe’s Def or Res” during combat. Restores 7 HP to unit and allies within 3 spaces after combat.

At the start of combat, if unit’s HP ≥25%, grant Atk/Spd/Res+5 to unit, deal damage = 20% of unit’s Res (excluding area-of-effect Specials), reduce damage from foe’s attacks by 20% of unit’s Res (excluding area-of-effect Specials), and grant Special cooldown charge+1 per attack (does not stack, maximum value only).

What does she and her Legendary Alt share: They have TD and TRD based on her Res. (At max investment they both have 47 Res for 9 TD and TRD at base). They heal allies for 7 HP after combat. They have Special cooldown charage+1. They remove the adaptive damage effect.

What her Legendary Alt has over this version: Accelerate Special trigger. 10 Def in combat, Special cooldown -1 on foe, and the benefits that come from being a Legendary, including a future refine and remix. Cool? Cool.

Galle: Azure Rider

Lvl. 40 5 ☆ 46/38/22/38/28               Max Invest: 55/47/30/47/36

Guard Lance+: Inflicts Special cooldown charge -1 on foe per attack during combat. (Only highest value applied. Does not stack.)

Dragon Fang – Brazen Atk/Def 3 – Odd Atk Wave 3

Well, we got Seteth a while back, so I guess it was back to status quo. Galle’s lance is very simple so I’m just going to say, “It should include Guard” and go with it.

Other Wyvern Lance: Flying allies within 2 spaces of unit can move to a space within 2 spaces of unit. At start of turn, if unit is within 3 spaces of an ally, grants Atk/Def+6 and the following effects and to unit and flying allies within 3 spaces of unit for 1 turn.  "If unit initiates combat, unit makes a guaranteed follow-up attack", "Foe cannot make a follow-up attack." If unit initiates combat or is within 2 spaces of an ally, grants Atk/Spd/Def/Res+4 and inflicts Special cooldown charge -1 on foe per attack during combat.

Very original names, I know. This lance was stemmed from his appearance as a reinforcement enemy with a group of wyverns. Ambush spawn! So I gave him a weapon similar to Legendary Elincia’s C slot, Heart of Crimea, combined with Hardin’s Coyote's Lance. He is unfortunately getting follow-up attacks only when initiating, but Atk/Def+6 and omni breaker to himself and flying allies is great, especially for slower fliers or flies without NFU. And of course, Guard and +4 to all stats.

At start of combat, if unit's HP ≥ 25%, Atk/Spd/Def/Res+4 to unit, reduces damage from foe's first attack by X% during combat (if foe can make a follow-up attack, X = 80; otherwise, X = 40), and reduces damage from foe's follow-up attack by 40% during combat ("first attack" normally means only the first strike; for effects that grant "unit attacks twice," it means the first and second strikes), and unit's next attack deals damage = 40% of foe's attack damage prior to reductions (resets at end of combat; only highest value applied; does not stack).

Of course, when the foe does have NFU, you have DR, similarly, to Weaving Fighter, and Damage Reflection, like that on Hans. Hopefully the foe also doesn’t have Phy. NFU or a DR Piercing Special.

Well. . . That’s it. Bye.

[crystalline-tim]

Don't you dare slander Robin II like that

Batman stopped the first Robin from killing his parents killer. He was a escape artist and honestly terrifying without Batman behind him. Ask your little friends about the first robins laugh

He himself regrets letting Robin II out and not being there more. He regrets it so much that it almost killed him. He almost killed others

I forced myself into his crusade. Forced. And wasn't shit that would've stopped me.

The Fourth was already Spoiler. She started without him and continues without him.

The Fifth, his Grandfather was certainly much Crueler Lex. We are already working on redirecting the violence he was raised into to something less damaging then the "weapon" he was forced into.

Red Hood, Batgirl, Batwoman, Azreal, Poison Ivy, Harley and others are part of this but Hell be damned if B treated them like "soldiers".

He continues to try and get others the help they need. His heart is so big that he weeps everytime he has to fight with a few of them. He weeps with every scratch or bruise.

So many times he has attempted to pull us out of his mission. And it's on us as his family we continue to protect him and Gotham.

Also last time we tried ended up with monopoly being burned and a dagger in the wall because I got too twitchy from lack of stimulus and R5 was the same.

In my universe, it took Trigon, Ra's Al Ghul and the Tyrant of the Infinite realms to even temporarily take us down. Even now we are fighting.

Lex Luthor. Do not slander my Brother and Father. You might just get the irs snooping into those extra projects of yours♡

Batman has an entire army of child soldiers that he turns loose onto Gotham. Some of them have even died, lest we forget what happened to Robin II (Rest in Peace, little Bird). Batman is a child abuser.

[welcometomybraincomics]

First Encounter

The Stations’ first interaction with other Cybertronians was entirely unplanned. The trade ship Daunting Light had one of the more adventurous crews among the Station population, more willing than most to follow through unconfirmed suggestions and act upon gut instinct. They had been skirting the edges of the common Station trade routes looking for very specific parts needed to repair several deteriorating mecha back at the stations. The parts themselves were hard enough to make, but the fact that the metal required was rare to boot was like a kick to the stomach. They were getting prepared to buy a bunch of items with small quantities of the necessary materials in them to get the metals in time, even though they weren’t sure it would be enough to even help two mecha, when a very reliable merchant said that they knew some traders stationed just outside of the Starioners’ galaxy who sold what the Daunting Light was looking for. Curious and in need, the Daunting Light followed the merchant’s directions to an intergalactic trade post situated just at the edge of 3 separate galaxies. The Stationers were introduced to more species there than they had seen in a good few centuries. The trader they were looking for was a Decepticon.

First impressions were a bit spotty. The first Starioner to find the mech had an Autobot emblem clearly shining on his chest while a 5th flier with his numbers proudly painted in bold white on his breast trailed behind wearing a damaged Decepticon emblem that caught light that it past as his shoulders swung with his gait. To the Decepticon’s optics, that didn’t paint a pretty picture. An Autobot trailed by a Decepticon with serial numbers on him? It looked, to anyone who knew about the Autobot-Decepticon conflict, like a poorly veiled picture of slavery. Not at all veiled, actually.

Understandably, when the ‘Autobot’ waltzed up cheerfully to the Decepticon’s booth asking for parts and metal, the ‘Con’s mood chilled to sub-zero and they hiked the price up two times higher than it was in the heart of the Stationers’ system. The ‘Autobot’ visibly paled and the ‘Decepticon,’ who had been smiling a moment before, drew a servo down his face plates, threw his arms up and started walking away swearing loudly. The ‘Autobot’ ran after him as he walked away, frantically trying to get him to calm down and not cause a scene. The Decepticon at the booth thought he heard the ‘Autobot’ say something about telling a captain and seeing what he could do before the duo were swallowed up by the crowded market. The reaction had the Decepticon wondering if he might have gotten their situation wrong, but he shrugged it off with the approach of a new customer.

Half a cycle later a green and black tankformer with some good weight on him came storming through the plaza and stopped right in front of the Decepticon’s booth and started glaring daggers. The duo from before came running after him along with an ‘Autobot’ with serial numbers, a blue opticed warframe femme, and a red opticed grounder half the size of everyone else who looked like he couldn’t choose between a miniature tank or a race car, the latter two lacking any faction symbol at all.

“Wait, boss!” The unnumbered ‘Autobot’ shouted in dismay as he came within hearing range. “We can’t just smash the booth and run with the goods! We’ll never build rapport that way!”

“I dunno,” the half pint grounder said, eyeing the goods with crossed arms. “I think the boss has the right idea, none of this slag is worth half the price he’s charging.” 

The femme’s wings, decorated in thin white patterns that danced beautifully across her plating, spreading from the tips down the edges of red-green wings, dipped low in disgust. “Honestly, he wouldn’t even be loosing any profit.”

“Why am I the only voice of reason here!?” Screeched the ‘Autobot’ with no numbers.

The ‘Autobot’ that did have numbers raised his hand half heartedly. “If it makes you feel any better, I agree with you, but you’ve gotta get rid of faulty wiring (you’ve gotta get rid of the bad apples).” he ended the statement with a shrug.

The ‘Autobot’ put his face in his hands and screamed. His ‘Decepticon’ companion from earlier patted his shoulder placatingly.

Had the Decepticon been paying attention to the interaction, he would have made a complete reassessment of his initial impression of the first two bots and wondered who the frag these new ones were, but he wasn’t. He was staring at the angry tankformer in front of him, trying to determine where he had seen him. He answer hit him like a bullet train. 

Right there, in front of him, was the infamous Decepticon general, Ripjaw. The mech had gone M.I.A. somewhere around the height of the war along with the rest of his fleet when the fighting had been the most chaotic and they couldn’t spare enough resources searching for them. Ripjaw had always been known for his bad temper and his tendency to... mutilate anyone who didn’t comply. 

Not wanting his head ripped off, and refraining from asking where the general had been all this time out of self preservation, the Decepticon nervously offered his goods at their actual price and lowered it even further when ‘Ripjaw’s’ glare intensified.  Instead of being satisfied, ‘Ripjaw’ reaches over the booth and grabbed the vendor by the neck and shook him vigorously.

No one in the market took action. They glanced over, noticed the commotion was from warframes, and left it at that. They had learned long ago to leave Decepticon matters in Decepticon hands. It, surprisingly, ended up a lot cleaner than when anyone else tried to get involved.

“Were you trying to sell rip offs?” ‘Ripjaw’ growled. Honor and value were things he held in high regard. If someone tried to sell something for beyond it’s value, even if they weren’t selling it to him, he couldn’t stand for it.

The Decepticon in his fist sputtered for an excuse. His first thought flashed to the ‘Autobot’ that had first approached him.  “Well, he was an Autobot so I thought-“

‘Ripjaw’s’ grip tightened. “I don’t care what you thought. You thought you could gain anything from raising the prices that high? You thought you could keep someone from buying something because you’re averse to their motives? You thought no body would get wise to your dirty tricks? Well I-“

The numbered ‘Decepticon’ touched ‘Ripjaw’s’ elbow. “Malachite, we don’t have time for this.” He turned to the vendor. “Will you sell us this?” He guestured to the items in question. 

The Decepticon nodded his head as vigorously as he could in Malachite’s grip and managed to squeak out a breathless “Yes!” Malachite unceremoniously dropped him on the ground. 

Seeing that Malachite was in no mood to talk business, the numbered ‘Decepticon’ took it upon himself to organize the transaction. “Tourmaline,” he turned to the warframe femme whose plating, the vendor belatedly noticed, matched the color of tourmaline. “Load this up and  bring it to the ship.” He nodded to the materials the Decepticon vendor was quickly trying to pack up. “Hatchet, help her.” The two badgless mecha nodded and started picking up the crates the vendor had already packed and loading them into the femme. “Counterbalance,“ The numberless Autobot straightened up at his name. “Go with Groundpounder and see if you can find anything else we need before we go” the ‘Autobots’ of the group nodded dutifully before turning away and walking down the street. As they left, the vendor heard the Groundpounder say something to the Counterbalance that made the ‘bot groan in tired exasperation which caused the his companion to cackle. The numbered ‘Decepticon’ stayed and took care of the payments, all very reasonably priced now, while his boss stood to the side, continuing to melt the vendor with his gaze.

They left quickly after, surprisingly organized and apparently on a time crunch. The vendor, luckily for his spark, didn’t see them again before he left the market. When he returned, however, they were there. He decided to begrudgingly work with the ‘Autobots’ of the crew to avoid the ire of the mech he still understood to be Ripjaw. The mech had abandon that name almost half a millennia ago when he forgot most of his life in favor of the moniker ‘Malachite,’ after his plate color, but the vendor didn’t know that.

Over time, the Decepticon grew more familiar with this strange group of bots and as time wore on, more and more of them came. He slowly came to the conclusion that the ‘Autobots’ he was seeing, often accompanied by ‘Decepticons’ or similarly weaponized ‘Autobot’ companions were not captive slaves of some lost Decepticon settlement and, in fact, weren’t Autobots at all. They called themselves “Stationers” and claimed their home was in the complete opposite direction from the Autobot Commonwealth. They lived together with the ‘Decepticons,’ which the vendor also came to realize weren’t Decepticons at all, or at least, not any more, and had absolutely no knowledge about the Autobot-Decepticon war that they had left behind. Even Ripjaw/Malachite, who the Decepticon vendor knew was deeply involved in the war, seemed completely puzzled by it. The Stationers, apparently, couldn’t even fathom warring against their own kind. Their populations were apparently too small for it to be anything but genocide and anyone who disagreed with the populous was exiled. They would make a truce with the exiled, however, so that neither one could attack the other in order to preserve their people.

If the vendor were a historian or even a sociologist, he would have found the situation with the Stationers fascinating, but he was neither of those things, so the only thing it left him was incredibly confused. How did the Autobot and Decepticon populations mix in the first place? How do they not remember anything? How did they even settle down in the middle of a war!? Question upon question that didn’t really feel appropriate to ask and would only be more confusing to bring up.

Unfortunately, the Stationers didn’t learn half as much from the merchant. The Stationers came to the understanding that Autobots and Decepticons are two different categories of mecha. The separation seemed quite arbitrary to them since many of the bots the merchant called ‘Autobot’ had upgraded their armor and weapons to warframe levels to survive in their system  in addition to adding flying mods and some of the ‘Decepticons’ were what the Stationers would call civilian. It also became evident that should they meet other mecha or anyone inside the vendor’s galaxy, some of them would be mistaken for Autobots and Decepticons and others would not, which was infinitely more confusing. One thing that was clear, however, was the fact that Decepticons had a strong distaste for Autobots. They didn’t know why, whenever they asked, the vendor snarled and spat insults, calling the Autobots weak, pathetic stains on the universe and the like, but that didn’t really explain why they were hated in the first place.

This lead to continued confusion and miscommunication when it came to the Stations’ second accidental Cybertronian encounter. This time, with Autobots.

A small crew of younglings, a mixed crew of flight and ground frames which was standard for the Station population who saw nothing morally vile about either, had been sailing around from trade route to trade route. They had set out on a voyage to try stretching their wings in the vastness of the void. A little independent action. Unfortunately, no one in the small crew of five had any experience with comet storms. As a result, their small craft got wrecked and they ended up crash landing on a small colony planet on the outskirts of the Autobot Commonwealth and had to call a nearby Station ship to pick them up.

Fortunately, that ship consisted almost entirely of bots with Autobot emblems. Unfortunately, the crew arrived in a distinctly Decepticon ship. And the cherry on top, the colonists has reported the crashed younglings for suspicious (Decepticon) activity and the Elite Guard had come to... dispose of the threat. Threatened younglings plus protective Stationers did not make for a good first impression.

The only think that kept the younglings’ crash site from becoming a battlefield was the Elite Guard’s hesitance when they realized that the ‘Autobots’ that had arrived in the Decepticon style ship were missing war heroes. They had been told the mecha had died protecting the Commonwealth after they disappeared during a battle with a Decepticon fleet. The hesitance was enough for the arrived ‘Autobots’ to direct the younglings back to their ship and shoot a snarled threat to the Elite Guard that if they dared threaten their younglings again, they deactivate them painfully. “Consider this a warning.” With that, they boarded their ship and left, leaving a baffled and confused military.

Unfortunately, the Stations had a reputation for leaving bad first impressions, so they were not surprised. There was a reason diplomatic teams tried to make the first encounter, but merchant groups hardly took diplomats along with them. Mecha tried to minimize the damage done by first encounters and to spare their friends in diplomacy, and especially Kaon, the headache and paper work that came with crashing parties, but for the most part it was inevitable.

Oh well, they were used to amending botched political situations anyway. 

Just another day for the diplomats and legal teams of the Stations. Whoopie...

—-

For a little more context look at Robits, The Epic Train Wreck Dumpsterfire of a Transformers sidestory AU

[thearchivistsjournal]

Day 343,

Morning thought: It has occurred to the both of us that Maiko doesn’t have a good way of carrying around that dagger except by hand.  Need to get her a sash or something to go with that sundress.  Or maybe figure out how to strap the scabbard to the shoulder strap on her pouch.

Speaking of the sundress, it seems Maiko’s planning on sticking with her usual (lack of) garb today.  It seemed rude to comment on it, so I didn’t.  Perhaps she wants to save it for actually going into the Village so it doesn’t get damaged?  Or it could just be a practical thing, like she said before about it being unsuitable for moving around the forest in.  Or it could simply be that even if she likes it, she’s still more comfortable without.

*******

Back to the comfortable rainy-season market day routine.  With a couple of minor alterations.

I finally remembered those goggles from Diomedes while also having an opportunity to try them out.  This time instead of splitting up with me doing laundry in the stream while Maiko goes fishing in the spring, she helped with the laundry and then I… well, I’d like to say I helped fish, but mostly I just watched and then held the ones she caught so she didn’t have to hold one while catching another.  But, I got to watch her from underwater.

It was impressive, to say the least, finally getting a clear view.  There was a fluidity to her movement like she was as used to this as she was walking.  Not to mention speed.  Her fishing method (or perhaps “hunting method” would be more accurate) seemed to be to swim out over the well-like hole in the center of the spring, pick out her target, then swim down and hang onto the stone wall until the unsuspecting fish got relatively close.  I imagine she then pushed herself off the wall once her quarry was in an acceptable range, but in truth I just saw something of a blur and then she was halfway across the well with the fish in her mouth and cloudy red wisps about her head.  

How she manages to continue holding her breath like that, I have no idea.  But speaking of held breath, the number of times I had to come up from air really drove home my own relative lack of lung capacity.

Scarily Highly proficient as she was though, I couldn’t help but get a creeping sense of anxiety seeing her out over that watery abyss.  Even sticking my head underwater with the goggles I still can’t see the bottom.  Honestly, for whatever reason it made me even more uncomfortable than the first time I found the place.  Maybe it was the story of the villager who got taken down there by a strange nature sprite all those years ago?  Or maybe the bottomless dark reminded me of the Catacomb Depths.

That aside, it was a good time.  For all that I live on an island and have that spring so close to home and the beach hardly farther in the other direction, you’d think I’d go swimming more.  Especially with how much I enjoy it.

Closest you get to flying.

In the evening once the laundry was reasonably dry (we lucked out with the weather on that count) we went back into the Village.  The sundress went back on.  On the way back I finally remembered to mention the plans the rest of us had discussed to celebrate Maiko’s coming out to the Village.  Maiko seemed agreeable to that.  More than I would have expected actually.  I suspect she might not have been so much several days ago.  We’ll talk to the others about making plans for next market day when we manage to track them down.  

A brief check of the bracelets indicated none of them were at the inn this evening.  At a guess, I’d say James wanted Cass to join in family dinner again with how often she’s missed that lately, and Lin’s probably with Ka’eo.  Not sure about Vernon.

Speaking of plans, Maiko mentioned the fruits on that island with the lizards should be at peak ripeness soon.  We’ll need to get back out there sometime.  

And now I’m thinking about other things I’d like to do.  Don’t know how I never managed to get back out to that lake of stars.  That could be fun to do as a group once the dry season hits.  That’s still one of my fondest memories of… well, I was about to say “of this place” or “since washing up” but given that I don’t really have any distinct memories of events from my past life I guess it’s just plain “one of my fondest memories.”

How many fond memories did I lose in the process of coming here?  It’s a melancholy thought now that it’s occurred to me, even if it loses some of its bite from the fact that it’s hard to miss what you can’t remember.  I like to think that I had more than a few, whatever they were.  

<==Previous          Next==>

[mooselybased]

So I honestly didn't plan this out, but it just so happens that the next Adventure Zone platform fighter moveset I drew was the lovely couple Killian and Carey, just in time for Valentine's Day!

Killian and Carey work as a single fighter (more like Duck Hunt Duo, less like Ice Climbers), and specialize in versatility. All of their special moves have two modes. Tap the button for a quick, light attack from Carey, or hold the button for a slow, strong one from Killian.

Carey's forward special throws a dagger forward. It's very quick, but lacks power and knockback. Killian's version fires a large crossbow bolt. While the projectiles travel at the same speed, Killian's move is much slower to start and end, though it does much more damage.

Light up special is Fastball Special. Killian throws Carey upwards a good distance before Carey pulls Killian up with her. Heavy up special is what I call the Slowball Special. Carey gives Killian a lift instead, which doesn't travel as far, but Killian hits harder on the way up.

Light down special causes Carey to use her lightning breath, doing some damage and stunning opponents. If used on the ground, it affects a small area around them, but if used in the air it sends a bolt straight down until it hits land, keeping the pair airborne a bit longer. Heavy down special, conversely, sends the pair plummeting downwards, Killian's fists first, until they hit ground or an opponent. This can meteor smash, but if you miss there's not much you can do to recover.

Light neutral special has Carey drop a smoke bomb behind them. It will detonate automatically a short time later, doing a bit of damage and decent knockback. Heavy neutral special has Killian drop a TNT barrel in front of them, which explodes for a chunk of damage and good knockback when it takes enough damage. It can damage K and C as well, and opponents can hit the barrel while K is still placing it, making timing important.

Lastly, Killian and Carey's finale has them call up their friend and coworker Avi, who sends a Bureau of Balance transport pod careening through the stage, doing heavy damage to anybody in its path.

[nikkisticki]

It's quite genuinely a mindtrap! Skyrim uses this particularly awful design philosophy of forcefully keeping your gear treadmill going every fifteen minutes, so at least four times an hour as long as you are doing some sort of combat (which is 99% of the fucking game) the game shits out a 3% damage increase in the way of a Flaming Orcish Waraxe over your Draining Orcish Mace.

One of the things you'll see from most people who play a ton of Skyrim is is that they'll eventually hit a wall and realize that the game isn't actually satisfying (and them begin trying to mod to fix it, which won't work for long) The combat sucks and lacks any form of skill or diversity of playstyles, the quests mostly blow, enemy variety is extremely poor ( 80% of your experience will be Bandits or Bandit reskins), level design is to make a hallway connected to 3-5 rooms that loops around to a 1-way passage back out, loot lacks mechanical function or variety, followers are near immortal meatshields and eventually any applied effort to making a character build (even legitimately without potion loops) will end up with you overpowered as all hell.

But what does that matter, look you killed a random necromancer standing in the middle of the road and he dropped a Lightning Dwarven Straight Sword! It's actually better then the LEGENDARY RELIC OF A AEDRIC GOD, somehow!

I can spend hours breaking down these points and make several more (Have you ever thought about how 90% of potions are completely useless both crafted and found and are ultimately just vendor trash that you can eat? Did you notice that there's four weapon types (One Handed, Dagger, Two Handed, Bow) with no distinctions besides a single branch of a skill tree?) because the games design honestly kept me frustrated and confused for 300 hours as I tried to play it like Morrowind and couldn't.

the thumbnail title combo was really getting to me i wanted to scroll by and forget it but it was worming into my brain and biting me. so i thought well maybe he doesnt actually think this maybe he is baiting little freaks like me i need to watch before making any rash comments and 4 minutes in says how skyrim has so much content that is at maximum quality and i had to leave. brother i think you have to move on

[justleaf]

My HC of Vernon Roche's Tattoos, in order of age.

Image credit: @tiffashy is the original artist of the torsos. I only have my mouse, willpower and 0 talent, so I had to search online for a pic of torsos and this was the only one that had the angles I wanted.

* * *

Put together for @kashuan. My headcannon is that he doesn't have that many because:

1. He spends a lot of time naked around the army and can't get anything that will either be viewed as too feminine or cause them to change their perception of him. 2. Honestly the man's got no downtime to get more anyway. 3. By the time he retired he was too like fukkit I'm a pussy I don't want to experience THAT much pain.

Temerian Shield and Sword

HE'S CAPTAIN TEMERIA HOW COULD HE NOT GET THIS.

He got this in the early years of his enlistment (I HC that he joined at 15 and is 33 in W2, primarily because I need his dick to work great when I write smut scenes.).

The work was done when he didn't know a thing about tattoos and the lines are bumpy, crooked and uneven. It's also healed poorly because he didn't have knowledge to properly heal a one (and also got angy with how itchy it was) so the ink is missing in places.

At some point in his life he was captured by the enemy and put to torture, thus the extensive scarring on his back that ruined the tattoo. Years after his recovery, he got the lillies touched up because they can take the man out of Temeria but they can't take the Temeria out of the man.

Dagger

Friendship tattoo with Ves 🥺 One night they got drunk and confessed their platonic love for each other, and then went to find a guy to tattoo a dagger on them. Ves' one is on the left side of her back because she knows Roche will always have her back no matter what happens, and his is over his heart because she will always have a place in his.

Blue Stripes

He just loves The Boys ok. It was supposed to be one stripe per year but then he ended up needing to be out in the field for months at a time. His 1 braincell was dedicated to realising it wasn't a good idea crawling around in mud and gunk with an open wound.

Fox

Do I even need to explain this. Here's where the tattoo quality increases because Iorveth has connections and taste.

Originally he wanted (or I WANTED LMAO) vines around the Fox, and then realised that it would be appropriating elven culture. He didn't feel he had the right to take on their symbol after he spent so long suppressing them.

Only one foot is coloured because halfway through the session, he decided he was too old to put up with the pain. Iorveth laughed at him but understood.

The fox is tattooed over one of the many scars Iorveth gave him.

Marigolds

He got this when he finally overcame his hatred for his mother. She passed on when he was 15 and Iorveth helped him realise that she didn't purposely damage him and did the best she could, even though her best was lacking. He has memories of how much she loved Margiolds and got them tattooed in remembrance of her and of his acceptance of her. He thinks she would be proud of him.

Disclaimer: I read that tattoos were commonly used as a method of torture in medieval times BUT this is fantasy witcher world so history can go into the bin, and maybe my headcannon also goes into the bin but here it is. Other disclaimer: Please feel free to use any of these HCs. If it sparks an idea, great. If you want to modify it, great. I would 100% love to see it but you don't have to tag me if you use them.

[gentlemancrow]

idk if you’re still taking requests so no pressure but maybe jmart 18 about jon’s scars? or,,, honestly however you wanna interpret that lol

Hehe bet you thought you weren't getting one. But of COURSE you're getting one! <3 HERE YOU GO!! Sorry it is late I am not a fast writer haha! This was a VERY interesting one to interpret and I got a little wonky and metaphysical there for a bit WHICH I LOVE and THE IDEA MIGHT HAVE BEEN A BIT LONG FOR A DRABBLE BUT! It's soft and I'm soft and I enjoyed this one SO SO MUCH ; w ; I hope you do too!!

Jon had Seen enough. Martin had decided that long ago. He had witnessed enough, been forced to witness enough, been the vessel into which literally everything had funneled into in an unrelenting typhoon of unspeakable, unfathomable horrific knowledge comprehensible only to him long enough that he damn well deserved the luxury of imperception. He had earned the right to not notice when Martin accidentally bought the wrong brand of chai, the one he insisted tasted like someone rubbed a stick of cinnamon on plasterboard and jammed it in a cardamom pod, but honestly tasted just like the one he preferred. The universe, whichever one they happened to be in now, owed him not realizing the buttons on his cardigan were one off until they were about to head out and Martin had to fix them, fingers humming with the warmth of him lingering in the cashmere every time. He deserved to forget his keys and then also have to go back to check that their flat door was locked twice, just to be sure. He deserved tossing cabbage in the trolley at the market, only to get home and realize it was a head of iceberg lettuce instead, and also he had completely forgotten the onion anyway so back he would have to go. Tiny and insignificant, patently human foibles that any normal person might tally up to a really rotten day overall and gripe about over a glass of Châteauneuf-du-Pape he had won as gleaming, pyrrhic badges on the ruins of his humanity yanked back from the claws of the yawning, devouring dark matter of the cosmos and stitched painstakingly back together with love.

But mostly Jon deserved to not notice the way people looked at him.

He need not see the painted-on expressions of strangers that ran the gamut from quiet pity, to voyeuristic curiosity, to outright revulsion that Martin could not help but see everywhere they went. They had no idea. Not even the slightest inkling of what, exactly, had composed that magnum opus of horror and pain scarred resplendently on his flesh, his bones, his sinews and synapses. To even try know was to go mad, the mind looping through and around and between consciousness and logic and love and fear and philosophy and metacognition until it squeezed into an ouroboros black hole singularity of dense unknowing that collapsed in on itself and perished in cataclysm. They had merely gotten lucky that being extruded through the plumbings of creation seemed to straighten out their fibers enough to be woven back into the fabric of reality, but they were too kinked and snagged and gnarled to ever lay fully flat again. And that was why they stared.

The invasive beings of Jon and Martin had come to mutual terms with it long ago, but they also knew they would be forever incongruous with an innocent world, with a world where they did not belong and that collectively looked at them both like an ontological cancer, benign but festering and ugly. They would never know the thing that crouched behind the stars with pointed knees and elbows that even then, groped to find their new world in the lightless vast, and Jon deserved to not perceive any hints of that either. He deserved their quiet, their peace, their wordless human acceptance.

Jon deserved to be innocently chewing a periwinkle-painted thumbnail in front of the ice cream counter, just as he was that gossamer spring afternoon, turning woeful and forever mismatched brown and green eyes at his husband and asking if he should get mint chip or rum raisin before deciding, actually, could he have a sample of the salted caramel ribbon first? He pointed eagerly at the various frozen tubs behind the glass with his gnarled right hand, where the fingers never did quite open or close properly again, and missed in his wonderment at the veritable cornucopia of sweet delights available to him the mingled look of pity and horror on the cashier’s face as she doled out samples at his request. Martin lurked protectively behind, silent, sentinel, seeing it all, a hot brand of fury boring its way through his chest as he glared icy blue daggers at the clueless young woman, who only compounded her crimes by complimenting the permanent white forelock in his ginger curls as she took his order.

Martin snatched his double scoop of rocky road and pralines and cream out of her hand with a withering scowl and said nothing. Jon, frowning in the dread shadow of Martin’s hushed wrath and finally deciding on just the mint chip, took it upon himself to pay while the poor young woman skirted around both their gazes. They took their ice cream to enjoy in the balmy sun on the metal patio tables outside the shop under a cloud of unspoken insults and slander which Jon was more than happy to pop open the conversational umbrella beneath before the downpour.

“Something wrong?” he asked solicitously.

“Nope. I’m fine,” came the curt answer, suspiciously also lacking in eye contact as Martin stabbed his pink spoon into the rocky road.

Jon’s mismatched eyes narrowed shrewdly. There was one thing that never escaped his notice, even now, and that was the painfully obvious way Martin always broadcast his inner hurts and the physical language of his turmoil he had become fluent in over the years.

“Okay, yes you are probably fine. And I’m guessing it has nothing to do with you actually, because you’re angry and you rarely get angry on your own behalf, which means it’s probably something to do with me or some perceived slight. What happened in there? Did someone make a snide remark about my eccentric ice cream selection? The long skirt on a warm spring day? Oh, no, I’ve got it. It was probably the earrings, yes? I knew I should have gone with the feathers instead of hoops, matches the outfit much better.”

The corner of Martin’s mouth quirked up in a hapless, crooked smile as Jon coaxed a laugh out of him, and he looked up into his gaze adoringly to grant him unspoken conciliation.

“No, no not at all. Nothing like that. It’s nothing, love. It’s not a big deal. Just low blood sugar or something. Just eat your nasty mint chip or rum raisin or whatever that unholy concoction is,” Martin snorted, gesturing at his cup.

“Liar,” Jon crooned with loving reproachment, reaching out to thumb a little bit of rum raisin on the tip of Martin’s nose as punishment.

Even breathed with such unfettered, undying affection, Martin hated that word. He hated how transparent he still was to the man he loved, how much he still truly saw him, saw through him. At least all it took to compel him now was a little melted ice cream rubbed clean off his nose and a winsome smile with love-puddled green and brown eyes.

“Okay, okay… fine,” he admitted with a resigned smirk and a sigh, “I don’t like the way they look at you. Okay? That’s all.”

Jon’s brow knitted together curiously.

“Hmm? Who? What do you mean?” he asked.

“Everyone!” Martin finally effused in frustration, “Everywhere! They look at you like you’re… like you’re damaged goods! Like you’re some pitiful beaten animal on the street, or worse, like you’re some sort of- some sort of um…”

“…Monster?” supplied Jon, lips pursed and lids drooping.

“…I wasn’t going to say that,” Martin stammered.

“What other word is there?”

“Fine, they look at you like you’re a monster. They take one look at your face or your throat or your… your hand. And I can just see it on their faces. They look at you like you’re a monster, and I hate it. You don’t deserve that. You never did! They don’t even know you! They don’t know what happened to you…! And sorry, Jon, but I get angry about it because it’s not fair, and I can’t exactly go about lobbing right hooks into the faces of everyone who even looks at you cross-eyed, now can I? Much as I’d like to…"

Jon went quiet as he listened, dabbling first in the rum raisin, then indulging in a little mint chip chaser, cocking his head to the side thoughtfully as he nibbled on the plastic spoon.

“Is that what you see?”

The color rolled out from Martin’s freckled cheeks along with the very spirit from his eyes in a fog, his entire mien awash in pallor.

“What? How could you say that to me? I would NEVER think that about you, Jon! How could you ever think I would think that? I-I know I said some awful things in the past about your scars, but I-“

“No no! Martin, no! Of course not! I know you would never!” Jon cut in, reaching across the table to snatch his hand and squeeze it reassuringly, rubbing his knuckles and over his wedding ring, “You misunderstand! I was asking if that’s what you see in their eyes?”

Martin clung to Jon’s hand, heart palpitating and breath easing.

“Oh…” he blurted dumbly, flushing with lively hues of reds and golds once more, “I-? Of course I do, what else could it be?”

“I don’t see that. I don’t see that at all,” Jon answered simply, “It’s… hard to describe but, damaged goods, disgust, morbid curiosity, those are all… Hard things. They have sharp edges. And when people here look at me, I don’t feel anything hard or sharp, it feels… soft? It feels gentle.”

Shaking his head, Martin frowned.

“Gentle? How is openly gawking at someone’s scars in any way gentle?”

“It’s just a feeling I have. I suppose,” Jon mused, thumbing at his beard with his free hand as he constructed an analogy that would make sense in his mind, “Mmm… Think of it like this. Humans, life, we’re all very visually oriented creatures, right? We respond to visual cues in our environments that are universally understood. We wear these rings so that everyone knows we belong together, just the same as bright colors usually mean poison, or how specialized feathers, or horns, or dewlaps and the like let others know they’d be a good mate, or how some things look like eyes or like entirely different creatures to scare off predators, and so on.”

The creases in Martin’s forehead only deepened in confusion.

“Okay sure, but scars aren’t a natural adaptation? We don’t look at scars the same way we look at pretty eyes on a moth wing or something.”

“I know that, that’s not what I’m saying,” Jon reiterated tenderly, “What I’m saying is I’ve always felt like my scars are a visual cue, but one that says to others ‘treat me gently’, because clearly I haven’t been. And it’s… well it’s been quite nice. You were about to tear that poor girl’s head off, but didn’t you see how she not only gave me about six samples when the sign clearly said two per customer, but then she also gave me the rum raisin ‘by mistake’ and then conveniently forgot to charge for it?”

“Wh-did she?” Martin gasped in shock, rewinding the transaction to remember that indeed, Jon had only asked for mint chip, but there was clearly also a generous scoop of rum raisin in his cup, ”She did… No I… I guess I didn’t notice…”

Jon let Martin’s hand go to cup his cheek pointedly in his scarred palm, running his thumb over the soft curve of his cheek and the spray of his ruddy freckles comfortingly.

“You want to know what I think? I think what you perceive as disgust or aversion or even pity is just fear, like you had. Fear of pain, fear of disfigurement, of fallibility. People are always afraid of seeing what can become of their mortal bodies, but that has nothing to do with me, or being disgusted by me. People are, at their cores, good and gentle, Martin. I know they are, we both do. They see me, my cane, my limp, my hand, my gray hair, my face, and they don’t even ask, they just know, on some primal level, that life was not kind to me. And so in some tiny way, like free rum raisin, they almost always try to give something back to me.”

Jon had known. He had noticed. It had never escaped his perception as Martin had assumed. Jon had known all along, but it was only Martin who still saw daggers in the smiles of strangers while he had taken the last vestiges of his powers irrevocably branded on his body and soul and sowed something delicate and beautiful and blossoming in his new earth. Martin had made a weapon. Perhaps no less delicate and beautiful, but still cold and sharp and deadly. The razor white edge of the sun through frigid fog.

“I’m so sorry, Jon,” Martin choked, his throat pinching shut with the threat of tears, “I-I had no idea…. I-I only thought…”

“It’s alright, please don’t cry, darling, you have nothing to be sorry for. I understand. You only thought you were protecting me. I protected you for so long, when you were desperate to do the same for me, to save me, but had no power to do either. Now you’ve got your turn to do the protecting in earnest, and honestly, it’s a… can I- can I say hot? Can I say it’s a hot look on you? Or is that weird?” Jon asked, tips of his ears blushing coyly.

Martin managed a laugh as he sniffed back the tears and thumbed both sets of lashes dry under his spectacles.

“It’s a little weird for you, in particular, to say it, just because it’s you. But I’ll take it.”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

Perhaps then, Martin thought as Jon leaned over their whimsical little metal table outside an ice cream parlor by a park with a striped canopy above them and birds singing and kissed his tears away and then kissed his lips into a smile, that sharp things needn’t always be weapons. Perhaps his sword was, in reality, a spade, or a hoe, something to tend and nurture the new and fragile happiness Jon had tilled. Gentle things deserved gentle protection, and he was still going to devote every iota of his being to protecting Jon until the end of their days. After all, as they finally got to enjoy their slightly melted ice cream, Jon still dribbled a bit of rum raisin down his beard and carried on none the wiser. Martin let him go on like that, blissfully unaware, talking about Polyphemus moths and the myth of the cyclops and something about someone going about as Nobody, until he finally reached out with a napkin to attentively wipe it away.

Other than a gracefully paced ‘oh, thank you dear,’ Jon never missed a beat.

[unityblair]

Crown of Heartbreak - Michael Langdon Oneshot

Summary: MC worries about her husband and voices her concerns. Mostly anger and tension.

Pairings: Michael Langdon (American Horror Story: Apocalypse) x Unnamed MC

Word count: 1215

Warnings: Pretty much none, just swearing.

I never thought I’d get used to living in the Sanctuary that fast. I spent two months decorating our apartment, wondering if it’ll make Michael happy. He seemed exhausted as of late. I knew he was burdened with being herald of the apocalypse, that was something no one would have taken lightly.

We talked about it sometimes, but that was before the bombs exploaded and nothing was set in stone then. We were just kids wandering the world, searching for happily ever after in the already decaying world.

Ever since we arrived in the Sanctuary he seemed nervous and distant. He started disappearing and spending time alone, or with Miss Mead whom I barely trusted. This god damned bitch was a robot and yet he still craved her presence more than mine. That morning I felt like I’m drowning in the bitterness of the coffee in my mouth. The taste expanded without a warning leaving my face ripple.

“Morning?”

I looked up to see Michael leaning against the kitchen counter, his ocean blue eyes piercing my train of thought.

“Morning…”

“You’re in doubt,” he whispered in surprise. I knew this must’ve broken his heart a little more, but I was so miserable that I almost gave a fuck. “Why’s that, honey?”

“I feel you, but hardly ever see you” I closed my eyes praying that this time he’ll finally listen and not shut me out.

“You know I’m busy creating the world for us” He ran a hand through his thick blonde hair. I desperately wanted to touch him, but I knew that if I’d do it now, then this conversation would be over. It always was. He didn’t like to speak honestly while we fucked.

‘’We can fuck about it later if u want because we never fix the problems that we got, Michael”

‘’You must've forgotten that I'm not made for fixing. ``The last word came out sounding almost like a hiss.

“Yeah, you’re almighty” I scoffed ‘’You’re using your roots as an excuse to leave you be and I’m not quite done with you yet”

‘’Why would you care?” he looked at me, his stare holding me in place.

‘’You’re such a nepo baby” I grinned at him, holding my dagger up, ready to strike.

‘’And you are a witch. I swore to destroy all of you”

‘’I’m kinda glad you’re a son of the lord of lies, Mr Langdon”

‘’And you’re the collateral damage of the original sin, Mrs Langdon.”

My heart skipped a beat. I hated him with my whole being and I was convinced of that… until he spoke those two words. They held the magnitude of a thousand hurricanes and earthquakes.

"Michael please talk to me.” I finally spoke, letting the knife fall to the floor.

The whole room fell dark, all the candles stopped burning at the sudden lack of power balance. I let go of my powers, letting him know I didn’t come there to fight.

"I’m leaving for Outpost 3 in two hours.” He sighed.

“I feel something bad is gonna happen”

“You don’t believe in me, aren’t you?”

“Don’t accuse me of such blasphemy, Michael” I sneered. He knew I loved him and would never leave him, but I wasn’t ever worshiping the ground he was walking on - I treated him as an equal. I got loads of shit for that from the church of satan while we were dating. It got pretty bad until Michael and I tied the knot. It wasn’t something we talked much about, it just happened because he had a weakness for a witch. And I had always loved the baddest ones.

Sensing my thoughts, he smirked. It took him two seconds to swiftly cross the space between us and lean down to take the mug from my hands projecting it onto the counter.

“Pet, listen” He got my chin in between his fingers “You need to stop holding on to heartache. You wear it like a crown on your head”

“Stop patronizing me” I clenched my teeth, his hot hand almost unpleasantly burning into my skin. He seemed on the edge of keeping control.

“You know me, I’d never leave you”

“Yet, you leave me everyday…” I leaned into his threatening touch. I wasn’t scared of dying, I wanted him to kill me before I’d have to live without him.

“It is nothing in the scale of forever” he responded with a short laugh. He was nervous. I made him that way. “Didn’t I show you patience?”

“You told me your plans, but you can never teach me” I shook him off. “If you want to go, do it now”

I got up, warming up my neck to get rid of the stillness he left with his touch.

“I thought you understood me” he said, probably shattered at the thought of me leaving after all we’ve been through.

“I’m done standing by, you know that. I’d rather realm the land consumed with nuclear winter, than watch you gaslighting me ”

He stepped back, as if I slapped him in the face.

“You should’ve stabbed me when you had the chance” His eyes looked down to the floor, gazing at the silver knife shimmering against black marble tiles.

“Why won’t you kill me? Then…” I drifted off, walking around his statue. He stood still, not moving, but I could easily tell there were tears in his beautiful eyes. “Now?”

“You’re all I got, You’re all I have” He spoke under his breath. “I’d never hurt you, I know it’s against my nature but for you I can be an angel. That’s why I avoid you. Can’t you see the writing on the wall?”

“What?” I paused, turning my head to face him.

“I’m in love with you but I can’t be good for long, it’s against my whole being. I married you because I knew I did, not because I try to use you, but sometimes I wanna kill you so bad, because you have me craving you, pacing the corridors at night thinking about your lips and hips and…”

Sensing him shattering I pounced on him, kissing him feverishly.

“I’m going with you, I’m not letting anyone hurt you there” I got his face in my hands, making him look at me. “I love you too much for that”

“I’m not letting the only thing I care about wander into the viper's den” I wanted to respond, but he shut me up with a kiss. His hands creeped under my shirt, gripping my waist, his touch desperate to devour me whole. His eyes filled with adoration, his touch desperate to kill. The dichotomy of the fact struck me to the core.

He tried all this time and I disregarded this for conceit.

“This place needs a Queen, my love” He concluded, leaning his forehead against mine. “And even if I’d really die, I’d die peacefully knowing you’re here”

“Don’t say that…” I whispered, feeling my vision getting blurry. All I saw were his lips moving in an enchanting whisper sending me deeper and deeper into the darkness.

“Promise me you’ll never wear this crown made of heartbreak. Don’t doubt, don’t be scared, I’ll always be with you”

I was doubting he’d come back but I was never scared.

“Pro-promisssse…”

[lepidopteralabyrinth]

Wow, your ideas are awesome, I'd love to see stuff like this in game!

Iraklis A longsword decorated with a bold-looking horn. Causes its wielder to take more damage and use more stamina, but at times deals crushing blows to enemies.

Iraklis could honestly be transferred to DD2 pretty easily! It has a fun gimmick to work with, and it's cool beetle horn design is iconic.

I've always been a fan of devs reusing concept art designs that didn't make it into a game. Fromsoft does it all the time, and it rules!

I mean, just look at this earlier design for Dragon's Dogma (the sword) and the Dragon's Aegis shield! These could very easily be made into new weapons, don't you think?

These first passes for the Heaven's Key daggers might make cool blades for a duospear. Rothais wielded one, wouldn't it be cool to take up his weapon against the "Watching One"?

Perhaps Pelian Grudge might be a good name? With a similar weapon ability to

Wounded Fury A sword modeled after the Arisen's wound. Especially effective against spirits beyond the ken of man.

Though in DD2, given the lack of a certain spirit with which to duel, "beyond the ken of man" might refer to the Purgeners or Talos.

What are weapons you want to see return in DD2?

I have my share of requests, but I also want them to come back with unique effects instead of being another regular\enchanted weapons, preferably as a quest reward. I'll start.

Dwells-In-Light An immaculate greatsword said to have formed in a flash of sacred light. Its holy strikes have a small chance to heal the user each time they land a blow.

The healing will be akin to a lesser Anodyne only on the wielder, so it's a short steady health regen. This is inspired by Holy enchantments from DD1 having innate chance to heal when attacking\killing enemies. It also fits warrior's gameplay of tanking damage as an immovable object.

Malignance A saw-like greatsword infused with cold such that it freezes as it eviscerates. Performing a follow-up attack unleashes Frigor around the wielder.

Follow-up attacks are the "finishers" performed with heavy attacks on a downed\staggered enemy. Since the attack's really slow, this will add an additional layer of AoE if the warrior's getting attacked by other enemies during the animation. It will also be extra brutal against drakes. The ice spikes will be smaller and concentrated around the user's attack, similar in size to enemy's Frigor (bandit mages and Wights).

Ascalon A sword wrought of an unknown metal imbued with holy light, giving its blade an otherworldly glow. Slashes against the undead have a small chance to unleash a stunning light blast. Killing an undead has a higher chance for it to occur.

Inspired by Skyrim's Dawnbreaker, the idea's to have a really strong holy sword with minor AoE. The light blast will be similar to mage's Empyrean spell, but much smaller in scale and without lingering light. Just like that spell, it has a huge stagger chance against the undead, and can make skeletons "faint."

Bezel Crown A bow like something out of a clockwork contraption. Each shots that finds its mark has a chance to ricochet, while arrows from bow skills have a chance to hit twice.

Since its original effect has been given to Medusan Spellbow, I thought a new unique effect inspired by its "clockwork contraption" tech could be used. The idea's to make this more of a crowd control weapon, but when using skills, the ricochet will bounce "on itself," allowing it to hit the same target a second time. If you shoot an ogre's hand, the arrow may bounce towards its head. Unlike MA's Ricochet, it does not bounce on surfaces.

Thunder Kite Shield A result of an unknown smithy's fatal experiment with magick, this shield is forever enchanted with thunder. Bashes and deflects have a chance to send a roaring shockwave. Perfect Deflects will guarantee its thunderous might.

Instead of casting Levin, I took the "thunder" part of its original description as inspiration. The conal shockwave deals lightning damage of course, but it also has really high knockdown power. Perfect Deflect against smaller enemies with low knockdown resistance will send them flying rather than staggering them, similar to a Shield Pummel.

[jaskierswolf]

Hello dear. Umm, I saw your prompts are open and Kelly Clarkson's "My Life Would Suck Without You" just came up on the radio, and... Could I ask for that and Geraskier? Pretty please, if you feel like it. Thank you. Love you. 💙

Hello dearest anon! I hope you see this. I’m sorry it took so long! I had a really great time writing this and thanks to @kuripon for being my beta!

___________

Geralt stared across the room, eyes fixed on the bard that was twirling and dancing around the room. Long brown hair flicked around her shoulder as she flirted with customers, singing words that were so familiar to him. He’d been there when they were composed, after all. They were different to the memory he had in his mind. Jaskier had repeated them over and over again, pacing around the camp and plucking at his lute without a care in the world. In his mind it was just a first draft, the words not quite fully formed, lacking the finesse and polish that this version had.

And yet, Geralt couldn’t help but prefer the version in his head.

It was messy, and most importantly, Jaskier was the one singing. Hazel eyes met his from across the room and winked at him, but it was wrong. She was wrong. He growled and downed the rest of his drink, the emptiness in heart becoming too much to bear. He picked up his swords and stalked from the room, letting the cool air of the night cleanse his pain. He didn’t deserve the warmth of a tavern. He wasn’t even sure why he’d come to Oxenfurt, there were no contracts as far as he was aware. In fact, he’d been heading in the opposite direction when he’d seen the signpost for Oxenfurt at a fork in the road.

And he’d turned Roach towards the city without a second thought. Thoughts of cornflower blue eyes and tousled mousy brown hair driving him home.

But now that he was here, he felt lost. He couldn’t enter the Academy without good reason, and without Jaskier’s easy lies and bright smile, he couldn’t find a way inside.

He pressed his fingers to his forehead, ignoring the hustle and bustle of the city that never seemed to sleep. He should leave, take Roach and leave. There were contracts in villages not far from here and he could make some coin. He really needed to make some coin. The purse tied to his belt was lighter than it should be and if his armour or swords were damaged then he would struggle to repair them, let alone replace them.

“Fuck,” he growled and turned towards the Academy instead.

His heart was foolish, but he hadn’t realised how much he wanted Jaskier until he’d lost him.  

It was like something from the fucking ballads that the bard wrote. He’d never pined like this before, and the feeling unsettled him. He’d been drawn to Yennefer, the Djinn wish pulling them together across the Continent, but this was different. There was no magic with Jaskier, no spell, or wish, or tie from Destiny.

Jaskier had chosen him, of his own free will, and he’d kept choosing Geralt, every single day, no matter what the world had thrown at them, and Geralt had found himself choosing Jaskier back. He would protect Jaskier at all costs, even if it meant failing a contract, killing a wyvern instead of moving them on. One bed at inns so that the bard could afford new lute strings, watered down piss instead of his favourite wine if it meant that Jaskier could have a goblet of fiorano rather than the cheaper wines on the menu.

Geralt hadn’t realised he was doing it until he went to order the wine along with his ale, before remembering he was alone.

“Hold up!” a guard yelled at him as he approached the gates. “No visitors.”

“I’m here for Jaskier,” Geralt growled.

“You’re not coming in, freak,” the guard spat, forcing Geralt to step back.

Geralt didn’t want to fight, but he didn’t know what else to do, he’d been hoping the mention of Jaskier would be enough. The guard glared at him, his fingers itching for his sword and Geralt raised his hands in defence, but it was no use. The damage was done. He swiped his fingers through the air in the sign of Axii.

“Let me through,” Geralt murmured.

“Let you through, of course, here you go, Master witcher.”

Geralt swept past the guard, keeping his head low, not wanting to draw anymore attention to himself. Iit wasn’t even the fact he was a witcher. Worse, it was because he was, the White Wolf. Students ogled him as he walked through the corridors. He hadn’t spent much time at the Academy but every time he had visited before, Jaskier had gripped his arm, waving his own hand through the air as he told stories of his youth. It wasn’t difficult to picture his bard as a young man in the halls of the Oxenfurt Academy. Jaskier hadn’t been much older when he’d met him.

The scent of chamomile and honey hit him before he saw the bard.

“Guess this means you’re sorry, if you’re standing at my door?” Jaskier said icily. Geralt spun round to see Jaskier leaning on a balcony above him. He looked… fuck he looked good. His hair had grown out in the year they’d been apart, the ends now tickling his chin, and he was now sporting a thick beard. His doublet was a pale sky blue that made his eyes seem to shine even brighter.

“Jaskier…”

It was the only word he had left, all apologies dying on his tongue as he took in the sight of his bard. No… not his bard. Jaskier was his own bard, an esteemed professor at Oxenfurt and Geralt didn’t deserve him.

But fuck if he wasn’t going to try his best.

“So… you take back all you said before?” Jaskier’s voice was poisonous, a cold fire burning in those pretty cornflower blue eyes. “Like how much you wanted anyone but me? If life could give you one blessing…”

Jaskier didn’t finish the blasted sentence but they both flinched, the memories of that damned mountain top haunting them both.

“I was stupid,” Geralt admitted, “for telling you goodbye.”

“Oh ho ho! Oh yeah, yeah. I know that, Geralt, but fuck, it took months for me to realise. I blamed myself, you know? For everything? You did. So it only made sense.”

“Jaskier-“

“What, Geralt?” Jaskier snapped.

Geralt took a shaky breath. In all their years together, Jaskier had never been so closed off to him. It had always been easy touches and warm words. The difference now was stark and every word was like a dagger straight to his heart.

“My life would suck without you,” Geralt mumbled. “It has sucked without you. I’m nothing without you.”

Jaskier laughed, a sharp, disbelieving bark that was almost hysterical. “Oh, Geralt. We both know that’s not true.”

“We do?”

“You’re a warrior, a hero, a knight. Smart, brave, and kind. You’re funny, in your own terrible kind of way, and you are, were… fuck no, are, my best friend.”

Geralt scoffed. “Means nothing without you.”

“That’s quite a change of heart, witcher.”

“I missed you,” Geralt said with a shrug. “What is it you poets say? Absence makes the heart grow stronger?”

Jaskier squeaked and slipped on the balcony. For a heart-stopping moment Geralt thought the bard would tumble over the edge but he just slipped backwards, gripping the beam in a desperate attempt to stay upright.

“Being with you is so dysfunctional,” Jaskier sighed. “I really shouldn’t miss you.”

“And yet..”

“Here we are…”

“Come with me?” Geralt asked, “Let’s try again.”

Jaskier shook his head. “I can’t.”

Geralt closed his eyes, readying himself to turn away and leave but Jaskier spoke again. “Geralt, wait. I mean… it’s the middle of term, Geralt. I can’t just leave.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“That’s not a no?”

“Come back at the end of term, I’ll give you my answer then?” Jaskier asked, tilting his head, and Geralt nodded. That wasn’t what he’d been hoping for, but honestly it was better than he expected. The things he’d said, fuck, it made him the monster everyone thought he was. He sighed and turned to leave the city.

“Geralt!” Jaskier yelled after him, he spun around to look back at the bard. Frantic blue eyes were staring back at him. “Just. Just wait there. Please, Geralt.”

And how could Geralt say no to that? He perched on a stone bench, overlooking one of the gardens in the courtyard. Bees were flying around the flowers, never quite settling as they buzzed incessantly. The blooms were almost overwhelming, too sweet, too floral, but he stayed put. Jaskier had asked him to, and he’d worked out pretty early on that there wasn’t much he wouldn’t do for the bard.

“Ah, Geralt, there you are!” Jaskier called brightly, “I was starting to think you’d left.” Geralt gestured to the bench. “Right, right, yes. Well… I couldn’t let you leave, not without… well…”

Jaskier leant forward to kiss his cheek, the bristles of his beard brushing against Geralt’s skin. “Jask?”

“You’ve got a piece of me, dear heart,” Jaskier murmured, his hand cupping the cheek he’d just kissed. “And. And my life life would suck without you too.”

Geralt smiled as he leant into Jaskier’s touch. “I’ll be back, I promise.”

“I know, I think… well… I really hope, and I’d really like to forgive you for what you said, but it might take a bit more time.”

“I have time,” Geralt insisted, bringing his hand up to cover Jaskier’s. He took the bard’s hand in his and brought it to his lips. “We have time.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

locked up ~ clint barton;mcu

word count: 2279

request?: yes!

for @stellastyless​

description: after having to deal with their weird friendship for so long, her brother and their friends decide to take matters into their own hands

pairing: clint barton x female!oc

warnings: swearing

masterlist

“What are you doing here?”

I raised an eyebrow at Clint. “Wow, that’s a nice greeting. Good to see you, too, Clint.”

Clint rolled his eyes at me. “I was told Natasha wanted to meet me here. She said something about training?”

Hearing him say he was meeting Natasha felt like a dagger through my heart. Of course he wanted to meet Natasha, why wouldn’t he? Everyone loves Natasha. She’s gorgeous and badass.

I crossed my arms over my chest and gave Clint the best bitchy look I could muster. “Well, Tony told me he wanted to meet in here, too. Maybe they accidentally double booked us or something.”

I felt a hard shove push me further into the room before the door closed behind me and locked. I pulled on the knob a little before calling, “Friday? What the fuck?!”

“I’m sorry Miss Stark,” Friday’s voice filled the room. “I have strict orders not to let you out.”

“What? Who gave you those orders?”

My brother’s face appeared in the window of the door. I rolled my eyes as I unsheathed one of my katanas. “Of course. Let us out Tony!”

“Hey!” Tony stopped me before I could pounce. “You know I secured all the windows so you can’t break any of them again.”

I groaned as I realized he was right. After a few...accidents in the compound, Tony had to replace all the glass with bullet proof glass so my katanas couldn’t go through it anymore.

Natasha’s face appeared beside Tony then.

“Nat, what is Tony playing at here?” Clint asked.

“Actually, this was my idea,” she admitted.

“You two have been dancing around your feelings for far too long,” Tony said. “We are sick of it, so neither of you are allowed to leave until you finally talk everything through.”

I rolled my eyes at him again. “There’s nothing to talk about. This is so childish. Friday, let us out.”

“I’m sorry Miss Stark, I can’t do that.” Friday responded. “Tony has given me strict orders to not open the door for anyone except him.”

“We’ll return to check on you guys in about an hour,” Tony said. “Don’t kill each other.”

He disappeared before Clint and I could protest. Natasha gave us a sympathetic look before following Tony’s lead. I sighed and faced Clint. “So, now what do we do?”

“I don’t know. I don’t understand what Tony is talking about. I can’t dance at all, let alone around some feelings.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle at his joke.

Of course, I knew what Tony meant, but I wasn’t about to admit that to Clint. Not when it was so obvious that he didn’t feel the same way for me.

I knew I had feelings for Clint since the very beginning. At first I had thought it was just an infatuation with his archery skills. As someone who was trained in Kunoichi and skilled with katanas, it always interested me to watch someone who was equally as skilled in something else.

It wasn’t until Clint and I were sent to the Hydra base on an undercover mission that I realized my feelings were deeper than friendship. I was tasked with distracting Hydra agents while Clint tried to get in and get the information. I decided the best way to do that was to pretend to flirt with the guards. It didn’t take long for Clint to get in and get the info then leave, but to get me away from the guards he pretended to be my boyfriend. He had walked up to me, put his arm around my waist and talked all sweet and gentle to me before knocking the guard out.

Feeling his hand on my waist, hearing him say sweet nothings to me, even though I knew it meant nothing, still made my heart race and I felt severely disappointed when I realized it was just a role he was playing, although I should’ve known that from the start. And in that moment, I knew that I saw Clint as more than just my teammate or my friend.

But it was also painfully obvious that I was not the one Clint had eyes for. Natasha was. I could see it in the way he looked at her, the way he talked to her or about her. They had been friends for so long, partners for even longer. Clint was the reason Natasha was brought onto S.H.I.E.L.D. It made sense that they’d have feelings for one another.

And that’s where mine and Clint’s love-hate relationship came from.

The time within the room we were locked in passed very slowly. Seconds after Tony and Natasha left, I was sure that an hour had already passed. We had nothing to occupy ourselves besides each other, but neither one of us was making any attempts at a conversation.

“Do you think we could force the door open with one of your katanas?” Clint asked finally. He had been eyeing the door for some time. “They’re sharp enough to get in through the slits there, maybe we could maneuver it in some way to unlatch the lock and let ourselves out.”

I shook my head. “These doors have some real defense mechanisms on them. One too many bad guys have broken into this building, Tony isn’t about to let that happen again.”

“And you don’t think Friday will open the door for us if we ask while Tony isn’t around?”

I shook my head again. “Nope. Friday is basically Jarvis on crack. She’ll listen to Tony’s every command and do exactly as he says, which means if Tony says to keep us locked in here, she’ll do just that.”

Clint sighed and put his head back against the wall. “God, he’s such an annoying control freak.”

I glared at Clint. “Hey, that’s my brother you’re talking about. He’s not controlling, he’s just careful and worried. After everything he’s been through, and the countless people he’s lost or almost lost, he’s not about to take any risks.”

“You’re not objecting to the annoying part.”

“No, cause he is annoying. He’s just not a control freak.”

A hint of a smile spread on Clint’s face. “Do you think he locked us in here to see if we’d kill each other.”

I eyed Clint’s outfit, noting his lack of bow and arrow. “No, not when you don’t have any weapons. Too easy of a fight for me.”

“What if I stole one of your katanas?”

“Still too easy, I’m trained to fight with one or both.”

The silence fell over the room again. I wished desperately to check my watch, but realized, of course, that I had forgotten it in my room.

Tony has to be coming back soon, I thought to myself. It has to almost be an hour.

Suddenly, a TV in the room flickered to life. Clint and I jumped up at the same time as an image of the two of us filled the screen. For a moment, I thought that it was a live video of the two of us, until I realized I was holding a bow and arrow. I recognized the room we were in as the training room in the basement of the tower.

“Steve asked you to do this?” the Stella in the video asked. “I’m a little offended. I thought I was good with my own weapons.”

“You are,” Clint told me. “But imagine how unstoppable you’d be if you mastered the katanas and archery.”

Video Stella smirked to herself. “You have a point. Alright sensei, teach me.”

The video fast forwarded a while as Clint trained me in archery. It stopped again when Natasha walked into the room, pulling her bright red hair back into a ponytail. “Hey guys. Am I interrupting?”

“Yes,” came my response, which was overlapped by Clint saying, “No, not at all.”

Natasha smiled at the two of us. “Mind if I practice too then? My skills have gotten a little rusty.”

“Of course, the more the merrier,” Clint told her, offering her his own bow and arrow.

I could remember my jealousy in that moment. I remembered the feeling of anger bubbling up in me as Clint drew all of his attention to Natasha. As per usual, they started talking about their own past missions and old memories while Clint helped Natasha, who very obviously didn’t need it.

I felt my cheeks heating up with embarrassment as I watched Video Stella glaring at Clint and Natasha as I pointed the arrow at a target on the wall. Not watching what I was doing, the arrow flew miles away from the target and hit the wall, causing an indent that I knew was still there to this day.

Clint hissed a profanity before running towards the arrow, attempting to pull it down. As he did so, I quickly walked over to Natasha.

“Hey Nat,” I said. “I don’t mean to sound rude, but do you mind leaving Clint and I to work on this? He seems a little...distracted by you.”

Natasha gave me a knowing look, one that I had chosen to ignore at the time. “Sure, have fun with your lesson.”

“I’m still upset over the damage to that wall,” came Tony’s voice as the TV turned off again. “But I guess I’m glad it’s the training room and not anywhere else in the building.”

“What was that for, Tony?” I asked, trying not to face Clint. He didn’t know I had asked Natasha to leave that day. I had told her she just left, and she went along with my excuse.

“Just to jog your memory, since neither of you seem to know why we want you to talk,” Tony responded. “You have another 20 minutes.”

I couldn’t help but groan as I heard how much time we had left.

“Why did you ask Natasha to leave that day?” Clint asked. I finally turned to look at him to see that he was confused. “You were doing so well before she came, then you...demolished the wall and told her I was distracted by her?”

I felt my heart racing as I tried to come up with some excuse. “I...I figured that I needed the training from you, s-since I had shot the wall.”

“But you were...staring at us when it happened. You weren’t even focusing on the target when you shot.”

I felt frustration boiling over in me and I couldn’t stop myself before I blurted, “God Clint, are you really that fucking blind?!”

He was taken back by my outburst, and so was I honestly. With that out, however, I knew there was no turning back. “Why else do you think I’d get like that when Natasha is around? Why do you think I was so distracted despite not being so earlier? Use your brain for once you fucking idiot!”

“And here you go again,” Clint said, rolling his eyes. “We were getting along before that stupid video played, and now you’re getting angry with me. Why are you like this, Stella? What happened to us just being friends like we were when we first met?”

“I can’t just be fucking friends with you, Clint!” I snapped.

“Why not?”

“Because I have fucking feelings for you!”

I covered my mouth the moment the words were out. It felt like a weight had been lifted off of my shoulders, but at the same time it felt like another one had replaced it. I had to wait for Clint’s response, and I already knew it wasn’t going to be one I liked.

He looked shocked at my outburst. My hands were shaking as I slowly lowered them from my face. I looked around the room, trying to find the security camera I knew Tony had installed in there. “Did you hear that, big brother? I said it! You got what you wanted, now open the door!”

“Not yet,” Tony’s voice responded.

“What else are you waiting for?” I asked. I could hear my voice trembling, but I held back the lump of tears that was forming in my throat. “Clint’s not going to say anything back, he doesn’t like me the same way. Why would he? I mean, have you seen Natasha? She’s gorgeous, and she’s so badass. Why would he ever have feelings for me when he already has her?”

“Stel,” came Natasha’s voice in return, “turn around.”

I turned to look back at Clint, who caught my lips with his the moment I had turned. I melted into the kiss immediately, almost feeling relieved that I was finally able to kiss him.

I pulled away after a moment, looking up at him. “Really?”

The smile that I adored spread across his face. “Yeah, really. I’ve been wanting to tell you for such a long time, but I always thought you hated me.”

“I thought it was easier to pretend to hate you than to let myself get hurt,” I admitted. “I didn’t inherit my father’s brains like Tony did.”

“She said it, not me,” came Tony’s voice once more before the door to the room unlocked and opened.

I couldn’t wipe the wide smile off of my face as I looked up at Clint. “So...what does this mean now? Where do we go from here?”

“We get out of this room and I take you somewhere nice where we can start all over,” Clint responded. “Forget all the jealousy and the fights ever happened and we try this again...but better this time.”

I nodded. “I like that plan. Let’s go.”