#i don't blame them i probably did the same

[2xxelaa9]

Vi deserves none of the hate people give her and I'll die on that hill.

"She created Powder's trauma and abandoned her". No she didn't ? Did we watch the same show ? If anyone, Mylo made Powder feel like she was worthless, Vi had always lifted her up, she just asked her to stay behind that one day because she didn't want to lose her, which is super legit ? If she had brought Powder, everything could have turned out the same and everyone would have been like "it was so wrong for her to bring her very young sister in this". Like ??

And then she blames Powder for what happened but immediately regrets it and just walks a few meters to cool off. Yes, she snapped, but nobody's perfect, and she was just a child ? Why would anyone expect her to act as a grown and mature adult ? She had just lost everyone and lost her shit for maybe one minute and that's it. When she saw that her sister was in danger, she immediately went back for her but was stopped by Marcus. And she then ended up in jail, at maybe 15 years old, getting the shit beaten out of her for 7 years while thinking that everyone she ever cared about was dead. She is as traumatized and Jinx is. They just don't manifest it the same way. Let's not forget that during those 7 years, Jinx had a support system, Silco, someone to turn to even if everything was very far from perfect and that he was using her. She still had someone. Vi was alone, in a dark cell, getting beaten up every other day.

Until Caitlyn came and broke her out. The reason she accepted to talk to her was because Caitlyn showed her drawings that resembled her sister's !! She went with her to find Powder!! She even ditched Cait at the first occasion she got (in the brothel) to get the information from Sevika. And then the first occasion she got, she went to find her.

And then again, at the bridge, she left everyone to go find her sister, and went back for her friends because they were being blown up by Jinx's bombs. And then, Jinx lost it and fired that machine gun at her and Cait, and just then, it was the first time that Vi chose Caitlyn over Jinx in that moment. Because she had fired a damn machine gun at her. I mean, if my sister fired this at me, I'd probably run away too.

Then Vi's objective becomes to take down Silco to get her sister back from him (because one can argue that he was a nice and caring father figure, I still think that he was still using Jinx as a bomb maker, even if he cared for her. She was working for him.)

Next thing we know, Vi gets kidnapped by Jinx and spends the whole scene trying to convince her that she loves her deeply, she even suggests that they could run away far from Zaun and Piltover just the two of them and forget everyone else. It all goes down to shit when Caitlyn frees herself and starts threatening Jinx. Then Jinx kills Silco, nukes the Council, then probably disappears. And the only person she can hold on to is Caitlyn. Why ? Because since the beginning, Vi isn't interested in helping Cait find proof against Silco, she just wanted to find her sister. And despite Vi leaving, getting hurt and everything, Cait stayed besides her. She went to save her when Sevika stabbed her, she followed her when Vi ran after the blue smoke Jinx lit up in the sky, she tried to held her back in that "Oil and water" scene. So of course Vi stayed. Cait had proved her worth to her countless times. She even held back from killing Jinx (which had already committed terrorist actions, killed enforcers, firelights and probably many others).

Vi had nobody else to turn to. Literally. Everyone was dead, and Jinx had rejected her. And Caitlyn still didn't reject Vi, even after her sister killed her mother.

Of course Vi was going to stay by Caitlyn's side. It was the only person somehow caring for her. Even acknowledging her existence.

"But she became an enforcer and it was against everything she stood for". Again, have we all seen the same show ? Vi disagreed to Caitlyn's proposition. It was when Maddie met her that she told her she was "happy that she joined the enforcers". Caitlyn had enlisted her and didn't leave Vi a choice in that. Vi went along because she trusted Caitlyn and she only ever fought in Caitlyn's team. Vi was ready to let Cait end Jinx, because for her, Everything good in her sister was gone. There was nothing else to save. But when she saw Isha, it was not just her wanting to save the child, but also a part of her seeing Powder again. She saw that her sister was still capable of love and compassion. So she stopped Caitlyn.

And then Caitlyn hit her and left her. Again. At this point, everyone in the show had abandoned her. she was all alone, except for Loris who eventually also gave up on her.

Then Jinx went to find her again to save Vander. Then Vi started to gain hope again. Making plans with Jinx for the future. "Maybe we could stay here, help them out". Then shit went down again and Isha died (note : Vi's first reflex was to save her sister in that moment). Then Jinx surrendered, Cait locked her up and Vi went to free her sister. Who then proceeded to leave her again, hitting her in the spot that hurt her the most (both physically and emotionally). Let's note that in that scene, Vi called her "Jinx" and not Powder. It proved her that she loved her for who she was now. She loved Jinx.

Vi had again lost everything. She even thought she had lost Caitlyn by going against her orders again. She was even left alone in that cell, locked up, with no one she cared about, expecting another beating from life. She had come back to the point zero of everything. The concrete cell, the loneliness, the feeling of having failed everyhting and everyone.

But Caitlyn walked in and let her know that she had helped her free Jinx. That she trusted her enough to leave her desire for justice and revenge behind her because she knew how much Vi cared for her sister. And that was the first time in the whole show that anyone had made something for Vi. Hell, it must have been the first time in the show Vi might have felt loved. Like, think about it. Vi then let herself have one moment with Caitlyn, because she had started to become tired of being rejected and hurt by everyone. She had one single moment. And everyone blames her for that and says she's a terrible sister, when it's clearly not the case and has never been.

Time for the war. They fight. Then Vi sees Vander. Her first reflex is to try and save him again. Because she just loves her family so deeply she can't actually help it. And then Jinx sacrifices herself to save Vi. Have you really heard Vi's scream ? It's the most devastating sound and scream that we ever heard on this show. It even echoed louder than the actual explosion. Vi loved her sister so so so much.

With all that, I don't get how people can hate her. She just suffered so so much throughout the show. She is just a little love ball that constantly gets kicked by everyone. She did deserve that somewhat happy ending. I'm so tired of seeing Vi slander.

Also, props to the writers for breaking the doomed lesbian cycle. For once we got a win. Hurray !

[tumb1rprincess]

Oh my God, so many moments from this episode had me screaming and shrieking. Blitz deciding to take the fall by himself so the others could go free, telling them he loves them when he thinks he's about to die, Stolas coming in to take the blame and them admitting how much they care for each other, Blitz fighting tooth and nail when he thinks Stolas is about to die, the big hug he gets when the others see him alive, him doing the same thing to Stolas when he makes it out alive, Loona calling Blitz "dad" and Stolas's heartbroken expression, Blitz being so tender with Stolas, holding his hand so gently, scrubbing all the grime off of him, kissing his cheek, I was literally like

Man, this has shaken things up so much. Everything is going to be different now. Stolas has to live with the lower class, Stella and Andrealphus are in charge of everything he owns, and Octavia is going to be stuck with horrible parental figures and probably fed lies about Stolas chose Blitz over her. And not everything is patched up with Stolas and Blitz, they might be living together and they've shown how much they care about each other, but they still have a ways to go before they have a functional emotional relationship. And I bet Blitz is going to be wrestling with the outcome of this trial, because on the one hand, Stolas is miserable and has lost everything. But on the other hand, he's admired by so many now and business is going to be booming for IMP.

It was cool finally seeing the overlords of each realm in one place (minus Lucifer). We got a little bit of their dynamic, like they really don't get along, but Ozzy and Bee are ostracized because they hang out with the lower class all the time. I want to see more of this group.

I'd heard a little bit of buildup for Mastermind, and holy hell, did it deliver. It was dramatic and emotional and Bryce Pinkham knocked it out of the fucking park. And I was so happy to hear Brandon Rogers sing too. I admit, I was little miffed that his parts back in When I See Him were spoken rather than sung, so I was very happy to finally hear him sing and he was really good. Him and Bryce harmonize so well together.

I'm definitely going to be rewatching this one a lot, this was so, so, so good.

[roseyswords]

An analysis of Mastermind (the Song)

Now this is gonna focus primarily on Stolas's perspective throughout this whole song. Not that I think Blitzø or Satan's parts are less interesting they're just more straightforward than the rest of it and I don't think I can expound on them that much.

So first we have Stolas using societies already baked in prejudices against imps to immediately square away the idea that Blitzø could be to blame for the whole thing. And you'll notice that when he's doing this he's putting on the same persona that he used in Circus when he got Blitzø out of trouble with his security guards. The act of a haughty Prince that is taking responsibility for an imp. It's a bit of a go to for him.

Then he starts building up the idea of a Mastermind whose actually behind it all that just using Blitzø for nefarious purposes. I also want to point out the look on Ozzie's face here because it is expressing exactly what I was thinking when I first watched this which was " what the fuck are you going on about Stolas?"

But if you notice something that I'll talk about a bit more later he's not saying he's the Mastermind at this point. He's just talking about a vague Boogeyman esque mastermind here.

Then he goes on to detail what killing Blitzø like this would mean in Hell. First he's doubling down on how lowly he is, meaning he couldn't possibly have done it and that he is clearly just a scapegoat. Basically telling them that doing so won't solve anything. But then next he says that it would "light a fire in the hearts of his race" which as we see afterwards, it did. This whole song stoked massive support for Blitzø and if we remember resulted in the first time in history where an imp sentenced with death got away and survived.

Fuck it! I am the Mastermind. There is the briefest moment here where Stolas closes his eyes and thinks. Right before he says Fuck It. I don't think Stolas had fully cemented on the idea of taking the blame himself until this point. I think this is the point where he realized he can't back down from this, he can't just make up a Mastermind he has to be the Mastermind. I think he has this sort of as the plan the whole time but that he was also giving himself a bit of an out before by being vague. He could have said he was the Mastermind the entire song but this was the moment he started taking full ownership of the title.

I have no regrets/ I have regrets. Publically Stolas is saying that he has no regrets about the whole scheme that he used Blitzø for. But then we immediately go into private mode where Stolas is having some regrets and second thoughts about doing this. He says " why am I throwing my life away for this idiot?" He doesn't like doing this but he's going to anyway.

And he decides to do it because the alternative is Blitzø dying. And that is too horrible of a fate for him to bear. Stolas probably also feels actual responsibility for the whole situation because he made the deal to let Blitzø use the book knowing it was illegal. So if he can do anything to let Blitzø live, this is it and he's gotta do it. So then we get to

I am the Mastermind, the master of my faith. No looking back, we're doubling down. Full on. So much of Stolas arc as a character is culminating in this moment. For so long he has just been a puppet in other peoples plans. He has never been in charge of his own life but now he is the master behind his own decisions and steering his own fate. Even if it's at his own detriment. He sings about how much he loves Blitzø and death itself is the only thing that can break them. He is resolved to this fate and he's taking it head on.

There are so many fucking layers to this episode, it's a gift that keeps on giving. It's my favorite episode containing my favorite Helluva Boss song. I hope you enjoyed this attempt at a breakdown I did.

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Errands Gen 1 pt.88

Wednesday afternoon, the Gratz were in the supermarket picking up last-minute items for Harvestfest. The week began with a tragedy, but everyone agreed, including Kiersten, that gathering for the family-oriented holiday was what they all needed. Even if it only provided a small distraction for the kids.

Kason and Mercury sat the triplets down the evening of the fire to explain what happened to Rufus. Venus and Ishtar immediately asked if they could check on Tucker. Tucker stayed over that night, and returned home the next morning to visit the hospital with his mom and little brother. The duo plus M and Beckett had done their best to keep his mind occupied, but from time to time he would excuse himself and they would hear him sobbing softly in the bathroom.

M: How is Rufus?

She asked quietly.

Kason: They were able to stop the Epidural bleed. The decompression surgery worked but he’s on a ventilator. The smoke inhalation was bad, he still needs assistance breathing.

M: Did you see Kiersten while you were there?

His expression was solemn.

Kason: I saw her speaking to Rufus's doctor in the hallway, but when she saw me she took off. Okay, everyone out of the cart.

Triplets: Aww man, come on dad!

The kids vocalized their complaints but climbed out. Kason had been to the hospital multiple times since Rufus was admitted, but he wasn't sure if his presence was welcomed.

Aphrodite: Can I have a snack, Dad?

Kason: Sure, find something for everyone and get something for Zoh and Malachi. Take your brother with you!

He called out to her as she took off before he could finish. Ishtar ran after her.

Ishtar: Don't worry Dad, I'll catch up!

They watched to make sure he reached her before M turned her attention back to Kason while pushing the cart.

M: I know what you're thinking, but don't. She's scared and stressed out. It's a sensitive situation and it couldn't have come at a worse time.

Kason: I can see it in her eyes whenever she actually looks at me, she blames me and who am I to argue with that? I'm the one that sent them both down there. She’ll probably never speak to me ever again. Maybe you should go over there again and make sure she’s okay. I'm sure it's just me she's avoiding.

It had been two days since the fire and the situation had grown more tense. When Kason arrived at the hospital and Rufus was suddenly wheeled away for the emergency surgery, Kiersten broke down and revealed she was expecting. The sweet moment was ruined and made worse by the fact that she hadn't gotten to tell Rufus first and now wasn't sure If she would ever get the chance to.

M: She dyed her hair the same shade as Rufus. It has me kind of worried, that seems like such a drastic change overnight. I'll take Mom with me and make sure she's still coming over for Harvestfest tomorrow.

Kason: I wouldn't mind skipping it for once.

M: I’m sorry my love. Between your mom and now Rufus, Harvestfest continues to fall lower and lower on your list of favorite holidays.

Kason raked a hand through his hair while sighing heavily. He rolled back his shoulders and straightened his spine trying to look less defeated than he felt.

Kason: No, I’m sorry M. Your right, I just have a lot on my mind, but I'll try and be more present. It's our holiday too.

He pulled her close and she welcomed his touch trying to soothe some of his unease, but she could feel the tension in his muscles. He was wand so tight she was worried he would eventually break under the pressure.

Kason: I just can't shake the feeling that Paris was behind the fire. That servo was in good condition. It needed minor repairs and an updated code. If she supposedly didn't touch anything, what the hell happened in there?

He had been bouncing that question around since he'd arrived at the hospital. The first night it was all he talked about. The fire marshall and police assured him they would do a thorough investigation, and Greg had the security team ready to scour the surveillance footage from Servo Hold 2 once they were allowed to access the servers. They were located in the basement where the fire had started. Though they hadn't suffered any damage, no one was allowed down there for the time being.

M: Have you heard anything from the marshalls?

Kason: They haven't finished their investigation yet. They are still assessing the structural damage before anyone is allowed back in the area. Once that’s clear they will start checking for faulty wiring and foul play.

M: Well at least no one else was hurt, and with the cameras, if she did have anything to do with it, there’s no way she won’t get caught. Have you heard anything from her since you fired her?

Kason: No. Greg had the tech department deactivate her logins, email, and access to the building. We're mailing her final check to the last address we have on file, but no one has seen or heard from her since her little episode.

His tone held hope that it was the end of Paris but his brow was creased with concern. M just wanted him to relax, he’d been on autopilot and he was bound to run out of gas if he continued like this.

M: One less thing for you to be worried about. Let's finish the grocery shopping, pick up Tucker and Malachi on the way home, and just try and enjoy the night. You've had a stressful 48 hours my love.

They resumed the shopping putting an end to the heavy discussion, trying to enjoy the rest of the family errand.

Kason: I'll go grab paper towel.

He veered off into an aisle, Dite and Ishtar followed closely behind him, leaving M and Venus with the cart. Venus tugged on the sleeve of her mom’s jacket.

Venus: Mom, can we make snores after dinner? They're Tucker's favorite.

M smiled warmly. It was soul-stirring to see Venus caring for her friend, considering her normally spoiled attitude. The pair had grown close since she started school, even though Tucker was a year older and a grade above.

M: That sounds like a plan. We have graham crackers at home so let’s get chocolate and marshmallows before your dad comes back.

They left the cart and went to quickly collect the short list of ingredients. Venus went straight for the marshmallows while M turned to locate the chocolate when she found the sale sign for s’mores kits

M: V don’t get the marshmallows. They have kits tha-

Previous Next

Beginning

Sidebar: Kiersten showed up with her hair that color. Her hair is normally a very light brown, and I didn't want to shoot it over after editing her hair color. Honestly, it was the least of my worries, considering what she's going through, and people dye their hair in stressful situations, so it seemed fitting.

Poses: Don't ever touch me" by Elen shine CC: The vase in the last photo is from @elen-shine "Dont ever touch me" pose pack Budgie Foods store stuff Shopping decor sims (StarryxLazy) Build: Srslysims Greenfield Grocery by @srslysims

[hyog-blog]

Fangs of Fortune (ep. 13 - ep. 17)

I had to binge quite a few episodes, otherwise I'd be dreaming of demons and lots of beautiful people crying in the snow (which, I probably will anyway D:)

We went from a relatively happy family outing slightly tainted with betrayal and misunderstandings to the depths of psychological hell and eternal self-loathing. The level of inner and outer torment has reached critical levels and I'm guessing it will only peak in the upcoming episodes, now that the secret is out and everyone knows why exactly Zhu Yan was and still is so intent on dying from Zhuo Yichen's hands (well, and dying in general). What kind of sins he had unwillingly committed.

This is ingenious, really. Ethically complex. Psychologically distorted. Heavily PTSD'ed on all sides. It seems the recipe for making everyone suffer unimaginable sufferings is to put the Big Bad Murderous Darkness into the most caring, attentive, gorgeous demon being, let him lose control over the aforementioned Murderous Darkness once in a while, then make him fall into the abyss of self-blaming and self-loathing, and then make him try to end his life by the hands of the people he has wronged and cares about. I mean wow-wow-wow, just writing it down conceptually is heavy, the way everyone played their roles was BEYOND, just beyond. Totally and fully believable.

It's like the worst case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, but on a grander metaphysical scale. And it can't be solved just by one Great Demon dying - because such is the order of things that another being like that will be born, to bear the same fate. It's an interesting concept to put as one of the main motifs of the whole drama - the evil of the world and all the people that just exists by itself as a force, and one single person/vessel that has to curb it and sometimes channel it, without having any choice whatsoever. Or maybe there is? Now I'm wondering if Zhu Yan's idea about stopping the cycle of such vessels being born again and again is doable at all. In that kind of world where fate rules everything and everyone, and the options are quite limited, actually.

But I love how it's also always about the choice. It was Qing Geng's choice to stay with Fei willingly and get sealed together. And then, later, it was once again her free choice to stay in a dream and never leave the place. A-Heng didn't have a choice but to kill when he became a puppet, and Pei Sijing seemingly didn't have a choice when she killed him (but that still WAS her choice). Zhu Yan didn't have a choice when he lost control over the malicious energy, but he did have it afterward - what to do, how to live, or not live. How to punish himself severely inside out. So much of it is fate, destiny, guilt, unimaginable suffering. But even Zhuo Yichen makes his choice - despite his own pain and loss, he chooses not to kill Zhu Yan because that won't really solve anything or make anyone happy (while alive he could still do some good for the people who suffered because of him). I love how the show explores this topic of free will despite everything happening around the characters that's out of their control.

We still don't know what those Chongwu guys want, but Li Lun seems to be bearing quite a grudge towards his ex former bff. I mean, he was so emo before Zhu Yan took him out to see the mortal world and didn't want anything to do with it at first. I wonder what happened between the two of them. Well, he later wanted to get free (which is understandable), but merging the mortal and demon worlds is never a good idea, nope, so I see why the Goddess would imprison him.

I'm wondering how Zhao Yuanzhou is functioning at all with that level of grief he's carrying around. Like getting up, walking, talking, even smiling sometimes. Those must be some hardcore demonic superpowers, because someone else would have been crushed completely and totally by the amount of pain (but then again, he approached Zhuo Yichen and the rest of them only to make his deathwish come true, so that could have been his fuel before).

And after everything, the show managed to joke about cutting sleeves XD nearly making Yinglei quite literally cut his sleeve for baby Bai Jiu. That the show would even go there is risky enough, but this - my jaw slightly dropped))) And between two sweetest brotherly brothers, ahah)))

It's been quite a trip, I will need to digest this whole sequence of events. I still can't get over the scenes and dialogues when Zhu Yan was prepping Zhuo Yichen to kill or subdue him. And what about that ability to be immune to his demonic word spells? I wonder how it works and what he had to do for it to work. Also, the scene with the scars on Zhu Yan's back... Heartbreak all over, everyone is crying, hating but not fully totally, probably loving as well, but not forgiving. It's COMPLEX, uh.

[tenrose]

If you ever see me reblogging AI art, don't hesitate to tell me, it's because I wasn't careful.

[icewindandboringhorror]

I occasionally wish to reach out to old friends/acquaintances I haven't spoken to since high school/some other even earlier time in my life, but I have SOOO little social energy even for required tasks (like making dr phone calls or etc), I never have any leftover for extra ones, and it would be very odd to message someone I haven't spoken to in like 5 years out of the blue but then take 4 entire months to respond back lol.. My natural curiosity with nostalgia/collecting details of the past/etc. (literally if I were born a little earlier I would definitely do scrapbooking or something lol) is very strong, but, alas, not strong enough to beat out the Social Issues Demons apparently

[memento-morri-writes]

I've been thinking a lot about how Rook's reunion with his former mentor, Zara, is going to go, and since I can't predict what the DM is going to have her do or say, I can only dwell on what I know is going to happen. Which happens to include taking off the illusion ring that's been hiding his injuries from her. So have a snippet of the description I have planned for that moment:

tw for description of (mostly healed) injuries

He hesitates, twisting a ring on his finger. Looking at it more closely, she can tell it’s very finely crafted, and must have been very expensive. A large emerald is set into the band. Rook sighs, and pulls the ring off his finger in one quick motion.  Immediately she’s struck by the difference in his appearance as the illusion melts away. He looks awful. His warm, healthy skin fades to a dull and sickly grey. There’s huge bags under his deeply sunken eyes, and his cheeks are hollowed, as though they have been carved out by an overeager sculptor. He looks like he’s recently risen from the grave.  While he was thin before, now she can see his ribs under the skin, and his collarbones are exaggeratedly pronounce. Thin white lines left by dozens upon dozens of recently healed cuts are scattered across his body. On top of that, faded bruises cover most of his visible skin, a mottled mosaic of purple and yellow. They’re clearly days, maybe weeks old, and she can only begin to imagine what they must have looked like when fresh. Bandages are barely visible under his shirt, wrapping around his back, hinting at even more injuries.

[monty-glasses-roxy]

Freaking HAUNTED by the scenario of Cassie falling for the Mimic's act in the elevator and she comes back from it so, so, SO freaking scared but also so so SO freaking biased and spiteful and ANGRY she tries getting back at Gregory in the way that would hurt him even more than just 'paying in the same coin', by taking away from him exactly what he loves the most by trying to get Freddy destroyed. 💀 (definitely not a route I think Cassie would truly dive into but boy ain't it an interesting one none the less! 👀)

It also doubles as a way to free Roxy and the others from Freddy as well!! Two birds one stone!!

However... I've never heard the saying 'paying in the same coin' so I'm not entirely sure what it means, but I can take a pretty good guess. Not to be contrarian but what makes you think destroying Freddy wouldn't be doing the same thing Gregory did? He destroyed Roxy, Chica and Monty, and it was his voice telling him to deactivate Roxy for good to come and save him. After shutting her down, and her coming back to throw herself at Mimic for Cassie, Gregory tried to make it all for nothing by dropping her.

All of Roxy's damage falls on his shoulders, both before and after Cassie came into the picture. He didn't even care, did he? And neither did Freddy so really, this is the best vengeance she can hope for. She deals with the animatronic that Roxy keeps saying she'll kill if she ever sees him again, and hits Gregory where it really fucking hurts. Two revenge plans one stone!

And you're so right, Cassie would probably not go down that road... But ya know she might at least be a little tempted given Roxy's aggression over it. She keeps giving her ideas damn it she doesn't want them!!! Roxy can take them and do whatever she wants with them, Cassie doesn't wanna do it!!! And it works out cause Roxy doesn't have the fucking balls to go all the way with a murder plan anyway so no one gets hurt!!!

I guess that's a lose lose scenario ngl though...

This reminds me of a scenario I had the idea for a little bit ago when we were last talking about this stuff! (That got a bit long here so I'll add a read more for convenience)

The idea is that Vanessa, Gregory and Freddy return as quick as they can to try and save Cassie and instead find Roxy, once again guarding the door, Mini swarm in the shadows around them. She's obviously more damaged than before so it's a bit more difficult, but she's doing her best not to fall off the barriers she's stood on over the door and I've just had the idea of Minis holding onto her in the dark like training wheels. Aside from them, she's completely alone.

Vanessa talking is a shock to her and she's beyond happy to hear she's okay and most importantly, was freed. Surprisingly touched by her running to help her too... Just fucking snaps at Gregory and Freddy to shut the fuck up whenever they say anything cause she doesn't give a flying shit what they have to say. Vanessa hurries though, asking how she got away from that thing down there and tells her that Gregory's friend Cassie was down there too, what happened??

Yeah uh. Roxy says nothing for a while and Gregory gets impatient and tries to run at the door. The Minis grab him and the swarm just kinda take him away, literally up the fucking wall and take some pictures with an old Fazcam so Roxy can see it later lmao she's actually devastated she can't see this happening right now. Anyway, Roxy's like "what do you THINK happened?" and since she won't say anything else, they naturally, assume the fucking worst. She doesn't correct them or say another word. Just tells Freddy and Gregory that they've done enough fucking damage and to get out before she throws them out...

Oh yeah Gregory is fucking pissed. Why didn't she save her?! Why is Roxy out here when Cassie isn't?! What kind of useless animatronic is she that she couldn't save one kid?! What, is she only good at killing kids?! Is that it?! He's so fucking mad and Roxy just lets him rant and rave, the Minis stopping him for her every time he makes a run at the door until Freddy takes him away. He says he's disappointed in her, but that he's not surprised and that makes her seethe but she doesn't say anything until she hears Vanessa leaving. She stops her and when they're alone, she tells Vanessa the truth.

Cassie is in bad shape. Mimic is dead and they barely made it out, but her dad took her to hospital a little before they got here. Vanessa - who was in tears already - is so fucking relieved, but then asks why Roxy didn't say anything earlier. She tells her the truth as she knows it. That Cassie was here trying to save him. That Mimic lured her here as him, and at the end, Gregory said he couldn't risk being followed, and dropped the fucking lift with Cassie in it.

Now that doesn't make sense to Vanessa. She may not have been there for that last bit but they didn't rush all the way over here for nothing. Roxy can't exactly answer why he'd want to come back here, but she reminds her what he and Freddy did to all of them and points out that this would hardly have been out of the ordinary for him.

And so, you now have a situation where Vanessa doesn't know what to believe. She knows Roxy wouldn't lie about something like that and even if she did, she's a fucking awful liar. But she's clearly angry enough to let him think Cassie is dead and not give a shit... And she says it's to make sure he doesn't try it again so she's also asking Vanessa not to say a word. She can't do that! She can't just let a kid think his friend is dead because of him! ... But she's right in thinking this may not be completely out of the ordinary for him... But he wouldn't do that to someone he would run to the rescue of, right?? Gregory wouldn't do that, she knows him well enough to know that now!!

You see what's happened here? Now Vanessa is in the middle. If she doesn't say a word, Gregory will forever think Cassie got killed trying to save him. If she tells him and it turns out Roxy is right, then what if he tries again?

I feel she'd tell him, but no matter what, Roxy just straight up telling the truth to Vanessa, his current guardian, and not to him would cause so much pain. He could have been there screaming at her and she didn't say a fucking word because in her mind, this is nothing compared to what he's put all of them and Cassie through. And what happens if she does die in hospital?? What then?? She can't lie and say she's fine when she's not anyway!! She doesn't know shit!!

But ya get me with this? It's emotional revenge enacted at the end of Roxy's very long day in the pizzeria graveyard. Minimal effort required, with Vanessa unfortunately in the middle, but Vanessa is always welcome here. Roxy won't blame her for whatever she chooses to do, because at the end of the day, Roxy's done her job. Whether Gregory or Freddy believes it or not, she did her job.

She's really fucking glad she couldn't see his reaction though, she wouldn't have been able to keep her mouth shut if she had. Like most of the others, she can't bare to see a kid in genuine pain and she knows damn well how much her silence caused...

But yeah, you just got me thinking about that again. It's a spur of the moment thing for Roxy, inspired partly by the fact she's not good with words and doesn't really know how to approach this anyway. It's been a long day and her lack of words just turned into this and she's not even a little bit sorry. I think Cassie would appreciate the sentiment of keeping her safe from a second attempt on her life. And feel a bit bad that she takes some satisfaction in hearing how devastated Gregory was over it...

The picture of him being held from his ankles on the ceiling by the Minis is pretty good revenge too. They're proud of that one lmao

[ereborne]

Song of the Day: March 26

"Songs About Rain" by Gary Allan

[rubberbandballqueen]

also, the kids found a nest with a dead bird on the ground today, and they started yelling abt it n drawing all the other kids over, so i had to actually switch into the Authority Figure Voice(tm) with them so that they wouldn’t like. literally desecrate its body by kicking it around for funsies

[pibsboots]

I've always had chronic fatigue. I remember being twelve, and an adult mentioned how I couldn't possibly know how tired they felt because adulthood brought levels of exhaustion I couldn't imagine. I thought about that for days in fear, because I couldn't remember the last time I didn't feel tired.

Eventually I came to terms with the fact that I was just tired, and I couldn't do as many things as everyone else. People called me lazy, and I knew that wasn't true, but there's only so many times you can say "I'm tired" before people think it's an excuse. I don't blame them. When a teenager does 20 hours of extracurriculars every week and only says "I'm too tired" when you ask them to do the dishes, it's natural to think it's an excuse. At some point, I started to think the same thing.

It didn't matter that I could barely sit up. It was probably all in my head, and if I really wanted to, I could do it.

When I learned the name for it, chronic fatigue, I thought wow, people that have that must be miserable, because I am always tired and I cannot imagine what it would feel like if it were worse.

Spoiler alert, if you've been tired for a decade, it's probably chronic fatigue.

Once I figured that out though, I thought of my energy as the same as everyone else's, just smaller in quantity. And that might be true for some people, but I've figured out recently that it absolutely isn't true for me.

I used to be like wow I have so much energy today I can do this whole list for sure! And then I'd do the dishes and have to lay down for 2 hours. Then I'd think I must gave misjudged that, I didn't have as much energy as I thought.

But the thing is - I did have enough energy for more tasks, I just didn't go about them properly.

With chronic fatigue, your maximum energy is obviously much smaller than the average person's. Doing the dishes for you might use up the same percentage of energy that it takes to do all the daily chores for someone else.

If someone without chronic fatigue was to do all the daily chores, they would take breaks. Because otherwise, they're sprinting a marathon for no reason and it would take way more energy than necessary. We have to do the same.

Put the cups in the dishwasher, take a break. Put the bowls in, take a break. So on and so forth. This may mean taking breaks every 2-5 minutes but afterwards, you get to not feel like you've run a marathon while carrying 4 people on your back.

Today, I had a moderate amount of energy. Under my old system of go till you drop, I probably could have done most of the dishes and wiped off the counter and then been dead to the world for the rest of the day.

Under the new system, I scooped litter boxes, cleaned out the fridge, took the trash out, cleaned the stove, and wiped off the counter and did all the dishes. And after all that, I still had it in me to make a simple dinner, unload the dishwasher, and tidy the kitchen.

It was complete and utter insanity. Just because I sat down whenever I felt myself getting more tired than I already was.

All this to say, take fucking breaks. It's time to unlearn the ceaseless productivity bullshit that capitalism has shoved down our throats. Its actively counterproductive. Just sit down. Drink some water. Rest your body when it needs to rest.

There will still be days where there is nothing to do but rest, and days where half a load of dishes is absolutely the most I can do. But this method has really helped me minimize those, which is so incredibly relieving.

[talaricula]

Things I've seen tumblr memeing about James Somerton doing à la "How did no one see how bigoted he was!" as if those things haven't been a significant part of tumblr culture for over a decade :

Presenting untrue and bordering on conspiratorial versions of (queer or otherwise marginalised) history without any sources

Completely disregarding and disrespecting any expertise on socio-cultural topics/humanities and distrusting academics and historians (incl. acting as if no academics or historians could be queer or marginalised)

Downplaying the role misogyny played in the historical oppression of queer women and concluding that queer men must have been more oppressed than queer women

Bi women are, at best, not as queer as "real" queer ppl, and at worst, simply equivalent to straight women

Despite nominal trans inclusivity, transmasculine ppl are functionally women when convenient (combined with the above, bi transmascs are functionally straight women)

Despite nominal trans inclusivity (bis), shamelessly attacking, threatening and actively endangering any trans woman who questions them or smth they find important (often by unfairly presenting her as violent or as a threat)

Having absolutely fucking wild and reductive takes about ace ppl, the oppression they face and their place in the queer community

Stating that marriage equality is an assimilationist fight while completely ignoring its direct roots in the horrifying consequences of the AIDS crisis for partners of ppl who died of AIDS

Praising western media creators from the past for queer coding even under censure and in the same breath condemning current non western media creators for being homophobic bc their representation isn't explicit enough

Blaming China for all existing homophobic censoring in western media

Assuming all queer media would be better told by western creators and by western standards

Only out queer ppl get to tell queer stories

Heavily criticising almost all queer media created by women or ppl they see as such (see above points about trans ppl) or involving/starring a significant amount of women for any perceived or real amount of "problematicness", but fawning over and praising and negating criticism of queer media created by and starring mostly or even functionally exclusively men (even when it could be argued that, you know, not involving/seriously sidelining women is a pretty clear example of misogyny which should probably be considered "problematic")

And I'm probably forgetting stuff or there's stuff I have internalised myself and don't recognise as an issue

Like idk but I feel like the takeaway from Hbomberguy and Toddintheshadow's videos should maybe be "be aware of such patterns in your communities bc they definitely exist" and not "this guy is uniquely awful" and I feel like a lot of the discussion I've seen surrounding this has been severely failing at that. Most ppl who've spent any significant amount of time on tumblr prob either have internalised at least one of those thought patterns, have had to de-internalise them, or have had to be extremely vigilant to not internalise them (which is done by, you know, seeking out other sources, which also seemed like an important takeaway from the videos)

[mad-hunts]

if barton tried hard enough, he thought, imagining himself being literally anywhere else but the warehouse right then was easy. this place was never meant to be lived in for an extended period of time after all; despite the fact that it had appliances that you might see in an every day home like a fridge.

it put him on edge instead of at ease, and it certainly didn't better barton's mood when he stayed in it either, after all. but so long as he was allowed to dream within it to some degree... it was tolerable. plus, he had company here, courtesy of nico, jack, and barton also supposed jervis counted. nico had complicated feelings towards the doctor, though, and spending time around jack whilst in it thus far gave barton an unfortunate impression; which was that his own son was made nervous by him.

and the irony of it all was, barton only gathered that because he could feel cognitive empathy towards him. something that didn't include feeling but reasoning. therefore, the hopes of him somehow patching that up with jack someday were drastically decreased. barton vaguely listened to jervis respond to what he'd said about him being in the warehouse solely because of them; all of the words but one not quite having any actual impact on him, this being 'nightmares.'

the smell of the yuja tea that jack prepared for jervis, as fragrant in the air that it was, seemed to be the one thing keeping him from being sucked down a unpleasant train of thought. for someone who didn't feel human half the time, barton sure as hell experienced his own fair share of seeing 'ghosts' from the past and mourning the way some things had gone in his life. and regret, as well as sorrow, were practically intertwined in every single 'normal' person's life that he'd known.

speaking of regret, once he'd closed the curtains, something from the small cabinet hanging on the wall next to them fell to the floor. barton picked it up and was immediately reminded of why he kept this photo here instead of at his home. hiding it away helped alleviate the pain of not only loving someone and losing them, but also knowing that at the time it was taken, everything seemed fine.

'my 19th birthday party - spent right, with my handsome fiancé!' was written on the back in marcy's handwriting. barton felt like screaming and smashing something simultaneously. the photo was instead placed in his pant pocket, whilst he dragged his hands down his face and thanked his lucky stars that jervis wasn't exactly expecting any big conversations from him. barton's hand flexed by his side before he was changing his shirt, wondering just what the hell he was supposed to do after seeing that again.

grief was a thing he'd never been able to pend down how to deal with 'appropriately,' unfortunately. from marcy, to the momentary blink of an eye that felt like his bittersweet friendship with yves, to his son julien's death - barton thought he'd be destroyed by all of those losses for the longest time. but he supposed he was still here, god willing, or laughing at him more like if such a being did exist. barton noticed the fabric that was splitting on the blanket and how jervis very much appeared to be in his own world.

it was at that moment that he reached for something in that same cabinet he'd opened to change his shirt, finding that sewing thread and needle he'd stored in there long ago. barton kept it there because the shirt he was wearing had actually torn at some point and he'd fixed it. though, he had no use for it now, so he decided to put it on the edge of edge of the cabinet if jervis wanted it. but he didn't really know what he wanted. that night seemed to be a series of gut punches now as the other touched upon how jack was a good person and barton should be proud of him.

he blinked several times as he felt this sensation like something ugly was swirling within him. jack had always kind of gotten the short-end of the stick, and for what? ❝ ahh. well, sometimes i've found myself practicing behaviors towards him that my father used to use on me... but i try to stop myself when that happens. jack has come a long way, as the first time i met him, he was a scared two year old who was on his own with his brother. but now jack's a young man and very brave, despite maybe still being scared sometimes. ❞ barton cleared his throat then, ❝ that's normal though. so yeah, i am proud of him. ❞

barton turned his attention back to jervis and tilted his head at the other's sluggishness. being vulnerable like that surprisingly didn't feel too nerve-wracking, as he added just a bit more to the equation. barton gave the iv bag jervis was hooked up to a good squeeze, ❝ hmm. are you still in pain, jervis? or are you just tired? ❞ he observed the other silently and looked down at the cards before the both of them. that is, before barton heard jervis approve of him reading his fortune.

he drifted a hand along the cards then. choosing one that felt 'right' came without much difficulty to barton, and when he did, the reversed 'wheel of fortune' card for jervis's past. the next card he chose was the reversed 'six of swords' for jervis's present. barton flipped the last one for his future and was greeted by 'the sun,' which made him let out a soft 'huh' and smile a bit. ❝ well... i hate to start off with the past when you got this card, but i guess we have to. ❞ he was about to start interpreting jervis's fortune when jack came back into the room with the breakfast he promised the other. well, talk about convenient timing.

Jervis merely rolled his eyes at Barton’s remark, fingers biting into the fabric of the blanket as he pulled it around his shoulders like an old shawl. The plush material was a little threadbare at the corner; a tear disrupting the otherwise seamless fabric.

Sea-green and white plaid. Utilitarian, impersonal.

It sufficed perfectly; his thin frame was almost terminally intolerant to the cold. 27 years in Gotham had failed to inoculate him against the frigid rains and bone-chilling air sweeping off the harbor.

“Trust me, I’m well aware where I would be, if it weren’t for you both. I see enough of the place in my nightmares… so I don’t require any reminders.” He flexed his fingers around the teacup, feeling the warmth seep into his hands as he cautiously tipped the liquid into his mouth. It had a strange, but not unpleasant consistency, like warm, thin honey that slid smoothly over his tongue in a tangy blend of sweet and sour. Tiny bits of softened citrus peel floated in the syrupy mixture.

Barton’s IV pole scraped slightly along the concrete floor, a sharp metallic sound that mingled with the sudden rasp of the curtains being jerked shut. The room was clean and sparse, a sterile space designed to be free of clutter, yet a faint, telltale mustiness clung to the air—a lingering scent of damp fabric and stale dust that disinfectant alone couldn’t quite mask. Beyond the makeshift partition, the rest of the warehouse stretched out in vast, dark emptiness. The floor was cold, unpolished concrete, marred with cracks that split like spider webs. Dim, flickering fluorescent lights cast a harsh, uneven glow, barely cutting through the haze of dust that swirled in the air.

But, of course, beggars couldn’t be choosers when it came to hideaways—especially when you’ve learned to take shelter wherever you can find it. Or when you were part of the criminal element.

How far he’d come and how little had truly changed.

Jervis glanced across the room at where his coat, shirt, and gloves rested neatly on the desk, carefully folded with almost surgical precision. He flexed his hands again around the teacup, feeling the phantom prickle of sensation where the wool-lined leather should be—an exposed vulnerability that gnawed at him, made his skin itch with invisible grime.

He sank his teeth into a particularly broad piece of yuja peel, the bitter tang releasing as he bit down; meanwhile, Barton’s voice drifted in one ear, out the other like the static hum on a faulty wireless. He chewed slowly, savoring the rind as he turned his attention back to the small tear in the blanket. Nodded intermittently.

Jervis’ callused, scarred fingers found the frayed edge; the fabric was worn thin and splitting, and he traced it absentmindedly, feeling the uneven fibers beneath his touch. For a moment, his thoughts shifted to the sewing kit buried somewhere in his bag, imagining the small spool of thread and the thin, glinting needles; each one ready to pierce the fabric and pull it back together.

As if stitching this small wound would make any real difference, he thought bitterly; like it could somehow soothe the cold reality pressing in on them from all sides… It was a small, pointless task, a flicker of control in a situation that felt like it was slipping away, unraveling faster than he could sew it back together. He knew it wouldn’t ameliorate anything—wouldn’t solve the problems looming larger than this tiny, frayed corner. And yet, his fingers lingered there, desperate for something tangible to fix; something he could make whole again, if only for a moment.

Jervis gave no reply as Barton moved to change his shirt; blinking hard as he gazed down at the floor, but the darkness behind his eyelids refused to stay empty. Flecks of indigo light bloomed in the black, shifting like dust motes that twisted with each beat of his heart. The room swam as he opened his eyes again, the ceiling blurred and murky like the styrofoam cup Alice stored her wet paintbrushes in. He scratched absently at the IV in his arm, feeling the tug of the thin plastic embedded in his skin but barely registering the discomfort. The bright pinpricks danced at the edges of his vision, trailing like little comets whenever he turned his head.

“You ought to be proud of him, I imagine. Your son… he seems like a good lad.” Jervis’ voice was a wisp of silk, smooth and thin, like it might unravel into nothing if he spoke too loudly. He tilted his head slightly, almost resembling a marionette on a slack string, the hint of a smile touching his lips but never quite reaching his eyes. He ran a finger along the rim of his teacup, the motion delicate and deliberate as he pondered Barton’s final query.

“Hmm… can you?” Gray eyes blinked slowly, the lids heavy and sluggish, further dragged down by fatigue. The question lingered in the air, softly innocuous. He glanced over at the tarot cards Jack left behind on the desk—arranged in a rough, careless spread, but somehow feeling deliberate, as though the cards had fallen exactly where they were meant to. The edges were worn, curling slightly; the images esoteric, half-familiar symbols. Stars, sun, moon, cups and swords, animals and human figures rendered in faded colors.

He paused, gaze narrowing, subtly curious despite the exhaustion that weighed down his expression. For a moment, his hand tightened around his teacup; twitched like he might reach out and touch them, as if by brushing the surface he could glean some hidden answer buried beneath the painted ink.

‘Why, they're only a pack of cards, after all.’

His grip on the blanket slipped momentarily, fumbling at the worn edge before he reached for his collar instead. He dug beneath the charcoal fabric of his T-shirt, searching with a practiced motion until his fingers found the tarnished silver chain again. He drew it out slowly, the weight of it comforting against his skin as he absently ran his thumb over his and Sylvie’s rings, threaded side by side on the links.

The metal was dull, no longer shining with the luster it once had, but it carried a certain softness now, smoothed by years of worry. His eyes dropped for a second before he let the chain slip back beneath his shirt. “By all means, if it tickles your fancy…” Jervis gave a short, rough half-shrug, the motion stunted as though his shoulder couldn’t quite decide whether to follow through.

[inkskinned]

the thing is there's like, a point of oversaturation for everything, and it's why so many things get dropped after a few minutes. and we act like millennials or gen z kids "have short attention spans" but... that's not quite it. it's more like - we did like it. you just ruined it.

capitalism sees product A having moderate success, and then everything has to come out with their "own version" of product A (which is often exactly the same). and they dump extreme amounts of money and environmental waste into each horrible simulacrum they trot out each season.

now it's not just tiktokkers making videos; it's that instagram and even fucking tumblr both think you want live feeds and video-first programming. and it helps them, because videos are easier to sneak native ads into. the books coming out all have to have 78 buzzwords in them for SEO, or otherwise they don't get published. they are making a live-action remake of moana. i haven't googled it, but there's probably another marvel or starwars something coming out, no matter when you're reading this post.

and we are like "hi, this clone of project A completely misses the point of the original. it is soulless and colorless and miserable." and the company nods and says "yes totally. here is a different clone, but special." and we look at clone 2 and we say "nope, this one is still flat and bad, y'all" and they're like "no, totally, we hear you," and then they make another clone but this time it's, like, a joyless prequel. and by the time they've successfully rolled out "clone 89", the market is incredibly oversaturated, and the consumer is blamed because the company isn't turning a profit.

and like - take even something digital like the tumblr "live streaming" function i just mentioned. that has to take up server space and some amount of carbon footprint; just so this brokenass blue hellsite can roll out a feature that literally none of its userbase actually wants. the thing that's the kicker here: even something that doesn't have a physical production plant still impacts the environment.

and it all just feels like it's rolling out of control because like, you watch companies pour hundreds of thousands of dollars into a remake of a remake of something nobody wants anymore and you're like, not able to afford eggs anymore. and you tell the company that really what you want is a good story about survival and they say "okay so you mean a YA white protagonist has some kind of 'spicy' love triangle" and you're like - hey man i think you're misunderstanding the point of storytelling but they've already printed 76 versions of "city of blood and magic" and "queen of diamond rule" and spent literally millions of dollars on the movie "Candy Crush Killer: Coming to Eat You".

it's like being stuck in a room with a clown that keeps telling the same joke over and over but it's worse every time. and that would be fine but he keeps fucking charging you 6.99. and you keep being like "no, i know it made me laugh the first time, but that's because it was different and new" and the clown is just aggressively sitting there saying "well! plenty of people like my jokes! the reason you're bored of this is because maybe there's something wrong with you!"

[nickfowlerrr]

sit me on your throne.

pairing: geralt of rivia x curvy!reader

warnings: i don't know what i'm writing about but if you're here for smut, there's smut. 18+ only. probably ooc - i've only seen season one. if i'm missing something that needs to be tagged please let me know.

words: 4.3k

notes: i really truly do not know. forgive me not.

thank you in advance for reading! any thoughts, comments, and reblogs are so appreciated. let me know what you think. (unless its mean then pls don't).

"You kneel before me?"

Your question is born of nothing but pure confusion as you tilt your head in bemusement at the bulking behemoth of a man before you.

He hadn’t done as much when he first arrived, not to your displeasure, so it was odd to see him do it now - especially after the battle he has just fought.

He is at your feet, his long white hair darker and dingier now, dirty as his clothes and skin; marred with caked mud and what you can only assume is the blood and guts of the beast he has defeated.

The stench he carries with him is pungent, nothing but putrid, and yet that somehow doesn't take from his striking good looks; those paired with his brevity and bluntness have held your attention from the moment he stepped foot in your kingdom.

He is a man of little words, this Geralt of Rivia. His jester of a companion having done much of the speaking - perhaps too much - for him since they arrived.

Geralt says nothing still, only meets your gaze as he takes steady breaths. His yellow eyes, feline and harsh, cut through you in a number of ways - none of which you'd care to share aloud. You have a feeling he knows, however, just how affected you are by him no matter how well you think you hide it.

You are alone together, no guards at the ready, no advisors by your side. Most of your kingdom is now quiet and abandoned, including the halls of your once flourishing and lively home. The halls of this castle have been eerily silent since the night your men went on their mission to save their homestead. You had already sent word for The Witcher, you implored them to keep safe indoors until his arrival. They did not listen. Most of them still having seen you as the young princess you once were, the others simply following the orders of their leaders. You may have been their "Queen", but their faith in their commanders was stronger.

Those commanders who led them to their deaths... You still sigh at the loss.

Those who were not taken, slain, by the beast have long since fled for their lives. You cannot blame them. But you certainly could not join them. Your castle once held many souls, but now it is only you and a handful of others. Titles of servants, but you really never were one for titles.

"Your friend?" you wonder.

"Somewhere," he answers shortly, his voice low and deep as he speaks.

You quirk a brow, "Safe?"

"For as long as he keeps himself from trouble."

You hum, a hint of a smile pulling at the corner of your lips. Their relationship amuses you, you must admit.

"You needn't kneel, Witcher," you implore as you sit back on the throne. It is yours in name alone. It has never felt right to sit in. He seems to sense your unease, but he doesn't speak it. You continue, "You have done what you said you would, I will do the same."

Still, he doesn't stand. Not until you flick your eyes and move to stand yourself. He rises easily as he stands before you still. There is not much distance between you, and the stench of him stings your eyes and threatens to gag you. Your face scrunches in disgust as you turn it away from him, grimacing.

"I've had a bath readied for you, and new clothes set aside," you inform him, moving to pass around. He follows you, and you can feel the weight of his gaze as his eyes cling to you. "Your meals will be served as soon as you're done. I don't imagine anyone would be able to stomach a bite with that smell coming off of you."

He says nothing but lets out an amused "hm" at your words, still following as you lead him to the bathing room.

You thank Amaleah as you enter and she leaves with a nod to you, her breath catching when she smells Geralt enter behind you. It's as fast an exit as you've ever seen.

You move toward the bath and wade a hand in the water. It's a bit hot for your preferences but it should get him clean. You ensure the soap Amaleah brought in is fragrant enough and still look for some nicer oils to add to the water; when you turn around to ask your guest his want, you find yourself stunned silent as you're met with the sight of his broad, bare chest. His muscles flex under his pale and scarred skin as he moves, his solid chest is covered in dark hair, trailing down his torso. His arms are strong and big and a thought at the back of your mind wonders how comfortable he must be to lie with.

You blink, mouth parted slightly as you take a breath. You watch his clothing fall as he discards them and your gaze follows his hand as he begins to strip himself of the rest of his garments.

He is completely shameless as he watches you watch him. You feel as if you are in a trance, you cannot bring yourself to look away despite the heavy weight of his gaze assuring you he sees you staring.

It’s not an act of brazenness, truly you would look away and leave him at once…if you could.

“I’ve slain your monster,” he speaks and your eyes rise back to his chest, trying to ignore the heaviness of his thick cock as it hangs so temptingly before you. No, not temptingly…Shamelessly. He has put himself entirely on display before you, without an ounce of shame or concern, and you are still frozen to your spot. “Was there something else you required of me, Your Highness?”

The title gets your attention, the breath caught in your chest finally flows and your eyes flick up to meet his. You can't tell entirely if he meant it as an insult or if he thought you'd prefer it to Queen.

You remain quiet for a moment as you try to gather a response. Either way...

“I told you that wasn’t necessary, Witcher.”

“Geralt.”

You swallow hard as he takes a small step forward, and you will yourself to not break his intense gaze.

"Geralt. I thank you, for saving what was left of this ruined kingdom, but I consider myself not princess, nor Queen, any longer."

"Did you ever?" he asks, staring into your eyes a moment longer before he steps closer still, looking you up and down then nudging you aside, eliciting goosebumps along your skin, rising under his touch.

You glance over your shoulder as he continues past you, lowering himself into the tub.

You think.

You know your answer, but you won't say it aloud. Clearly he knows it, too.

You can hear the water sloshing with his movements as he begins to clean himself.

You take a deep breath.

"The clothes will be brought in shortly. You might tell Jaskier when you're done that the food is ready."

"Ah," he says amid his washing, "so you do know his name."

"Of course I do. I've grown quite fond of the bard in the week since you've arrived."

"I couldn't tell," he says plainly, yet still biting - his words sharp with sarcasm.

You furrow your brow at his meaning and then there's a laugh at the door and you look to see Jaskier as he leans on it. "You sound jealous, there, Geralt," he taunts, holding folded clothing in his hands as he pushes off the door to saunter in. "I wouldn't worry. I don't believe I'm the one who's caught her eye." He looks to you with a smirk, bowing before you, "Your Majesty."

"I am no longer queen," you repeat for what feels like the hundredth time.

"My Queen, none the less," he simpers before standing to his full height.

You smile tightly, eyes narrowed playfully at him before you finally move to exit, leaving them to their inevitable quarreling. And trying not to focus on the tingling still affecting you between your legs.

--

You eat with the women in the kitchen; the dining hall one of your least favorite places to be.

There is a calm yet solemn energy around you all. A peace in the slaying of the monster who took your kingdom, and still the grief from the loss of it all, your people, their families, friends...

Calliope readies the plates for your guests as you bid them all a goodnight, kissing Amaleah's son on his head on your way out with a 'sweet dreams'. Since his father was killed, the poor thing has nightmares recurringly. You only hope with the monster's demise, they might ease for him some. He is far too young to be in such pain...

You think to pass by the dining hall on your way to bed to thank Geralt once more and wish them both a goodnight as well but think better of it.

You will see them in the morning before they set off. You still owe him his coin and you know he won't be leaving without it.

--

You open the heavy door of your chamber and once you are inside, begin to undress.

Slipping into your shift, you swiftly make your way into bed. You thought you'd fall asleep quickly, but as you lay there, your mind wanders to thoughts of only one.

You have one hand on your lower belly, the other resting on the soft skin right above it.

You sigh and close your eyes, but all you see when you do is his built form. His dark, firelight stare set on you. His clothes left on the ground as he stands strong in his glory.

You breathe deeply, your hand starting to slowly drift down your stomach as you tickle yourself. You're so tempted to touch where you want it most, but you can't bring yourself to do it. Not just yet.

You slip your hand between your spread thighs, softly running your fingers across the sensitive skin you find there.

It'd been a week of torment, having Geralt so close and not being able to act on your most base feelings. You know he knows what you think when you look at him, if Jaskier can see it, surely, he can too.

You might feel embarrassed but with the way he's managed to get closer and closer to you with each passing day as he awaited the beasts' return, you would wager he feels similarly.

It feels like an age that you lie awake. All the noises about the castle, not that there were many, have settled and it assures you everyone has retired for the night.

Sleep begins to nip at you but the stronger pull is to the dissatisfaction that weighs on you. The emptiness that echos through your body and soul.

Your fingers twitch, and you begin to glide closer to your uncovered core, the need to be touch too much to be ignored for much longer. Your eyes are closed and you imagine it isn't your hand running over your skin, but rather his large, rough palm feeling you, teasing you just so...

Just as you inch closer, your eyes snap open in the dark as a heartbreaking scream cuts through the night air. You sit up, pulling your hands off of yourself. You know immediately where the sound comes from and who it belongs to.

You get out of bed, intent to make sure Hartley and Amaleah both are okay.

You open your door just as the one across the wide hall does the same. You frighten at the unexpected movement but are then unsurprised to be across Geralt.

He is shirtless again, and his eyes are wide as his chest rises and falls with his heavy breaths.

"Are you alright?" he asks, voice hard.

"Yes, I'm fine. It was the boy, Hartley. He has nightmares," you explain, keeping your voice quiet as to not disturb the renewed peace of the night.

The flick of the flame that lights the hallway allows you both to see one another. You say nothing for a moment as your eyes fall to his bare torso.

"Did the clothes not fit?"

He looks down at himself briefly, then back to you. He shakes his head, "I prefer to sleep naked."

You burn at his words, swallowing hard. "Oh. Well, I- I'm going to check on them, make sure they're fine."

"I'll go with you."

It's not a question, it's a statement. You stop in your start, turning to look at him. You say nothing, just blink and quickly carry on as you were.

You make your way down the stairs and down the hall until you see the flames licking at the end of the hallway.

You follow the glow to Amaleah's room and knock gently as you look in the open door.

She turns and looks to you, her eyes tired and cheeks damp as she rocks her toddler in her arms. He is sleeping again as she rubs his back gently, more to soothe herself than anything.

She sniffles, "Your High-" she stops herself, "sorry, forgive me," she whispers.

"Don't apologize. Please," you implore her. "I know it's habit."

"Are you two alright?" Geralt asks from right at your back.

"We are, thank you. Just another nightmare," her voice gets thick at the explanation. You know it hurts her that there isn't anything she can do but be there to comfort him when they come.

You smile sadly and nod. "We'll let you be, then. Do try to get some rest. He'll be okay," you reassure her.

You pull the door nearly closed and wind up with Geralt firmly at your back.

You turn into him but he doesn't seem to mind as he just looks down at you nearly pressed against his chest. You try to budge him to turn and move back down the hall but he doesn't waver. After a second, he relents and steps to the side, allowing you to go back down the hallway first.

It isn't until you come up on the throne room that Geralt speaks again.

"Might I have a word with you?" he asks.

You stop and turn to eye him as he stands at the entryway of the door.

"Now?" you question.

He nods once, "Now."

You approach him trepidatiously, and as you near, he gestures you in the room before him, extending his arm, "Princess."

Your eyes narrow again. And you turn on him, watching as he enters the room behind you. "Why do you keep doing that?"

"What am I doing?"

"Princess? Your Highness?" you quote him.

"I assumed you preferred it to your true title," he tilts his head at you.

"True title," you scoff, rolling your eyes. "I prefer no title at all."

"And what shall I call you then?"

You remind him your name, not that he really needs to be reminded. You know he knows it full well.

He considers you, then closes in on where you stand in front of the throne.

You don't move back, no, you quite like the closeness when he doesn't reek of death and innards.

Geralt seems to appreciate your resolve, his lips twitching with the beginnings of a smile as he studies your face.

"It's a beautiful name," he speaks lowly, taking another step into your space and raising his hand to gently caress your cheek before he leans in to speak against your ear. Your hands touch his solid stomach in an attempt to keep yourself upright, you can feel the muscles as they flex under your delicate graze. "I think I might prefer princess," he husks.

He slips away from you, turning to take a seat on the throne instead. You follow his movements and turn yourself to face him. You're stunned and completely set ablaze all at once.

"Well I don't."

"No," he smirks, agreeing with you, one large hand settling on his thick thigh as he spreads his legs, "you don't."

"It's too bad," he tsks, his voice a smooth rumbling. "No title, no throne."

"I don't want any throne."

Your eyes are glued to his thighs as he brings attention to his lap by rubbing the muscle there.

"None?" he asks before his gaze shifts directly on you, his mesmerizing stare burning into you. His voice lowers deeper than you've ever heard as a desperate longing shoots through you once again, resounding deep in your core. "Not even mine?"

Your mouth goes dry and your brain fuzzy as you take in his meaning.

Unthinking, you step toward him closer.

"You mean to defile the very one you sit on?"

"You don't seem to care for it much anyway."

Another step.

You are nearly stood between his spread legs, carefully you reach out a hand, your fingers light on his thigh. You feel his muscle then, flicking your eyes up. His gaze is dark and heated.

"That's true enough," you say, your voice breathy in a near whisper.

You gasp as your suddenly pulled closer by Geralt's rough hands around your waist. You can feel him through the thin fabric of your shift and its only then you realize how much of your figure he has seen thanks to your nightwear.

"Truer still," he speaks, "I don't mean to defile this throne." He squeezes your plush waist, groping you through your shift as your hands latch onto his solid shoulders. "I mean to defile you."

He manages to pull you onto his lap with little effort, leaning in to crash his lips into yours.

You kiss him back hungrily, chasing his lips as you settle on his lap. Your fingers wind in his hair and you can feel his cock growing beneath you through the material of his pants.

His hands slide down your waist and over your wide hips, reaching for the hem of your shift and pulling it up. His tongue slips past your lips and you moan, shifting your hips atop him.

You pull away, reaching for your dress and pulling it over your head, discarding it behind your back.

Geralt holds you closer, letting his lips explore your heavy breasts as you allow your head to fall back in pleasure, your hands returning to his hair.

"Geralt," you breathe, pulling him off you after a moment.

"Mm," he hums, kissing the swell of your breast once more before he moves to free himself from the restraint of his pants. He knows what you’ve both been wanting for days. What you need.

One heavy hand returns to your back, holding you by your waist while his other grips his red, throbbing cock.

He moves his tip up and down your slick center, making you whimper as he teases you - his cockhead rubbing delightfully against your sensitive clit.

He watches your face scrunch in rapture and holds you tighter to stop your wiggling about as you whimper.

He smiles smugly to himself and when you're just about to open your mouth to protest his teasing, he finally pulls you down on top of him. The sound that escapes you is music to his ears as you grasp onto him, your nails digging into the muscle of his back as your walls squeeze and stretch to accommodate his thick length, the size of him almost too much for you to take.

"Fuck," he groans as your walls tighten around him. He gives you a moment before he begins to urge you to move. He guides your hips, slow and sensually. The feeling of his hands on you motivates you to try and ride him yourself. And you do try, but you cry out again at how big he is, how fully he is stuffing you. You can barely move.

Geralt kisses you as he holds you closer, taking pity on your tight cunt and instead he moves his hands to your soft hips again. He holds you on top of him securely before he begins to fuck up into you.

You mewl as he jostles you, bouncing you up and down his cock, your breasts moving in time.

You pull on his hair, forcing him to look up from where his gaze was fixed, watching his own cock as he stretched you out for him, watching as your cunt took as much of him in as she could, up to your hooded lust filled gaze. You lean into him, chest to chest as you kiss him fervently. His lips follow yours as you taste one another. You nip at his lip and he growls, his hands gripping the ample flesh of your ass, "Keep that up," he snarls.

"And you'll what?" you breathe heavily, eyes screwed shut, jaw tight as you deadbrain on the pleasure coursing through you.

Your answer is a harsh thrust of his cock inside of you, stealing your breath while he slaps your ass, your flesh stinging from the force.

"Oh, fuck," you whimper debauchedly, your velvety walls squeezing him ever tighter as you feel yourself growing closer with every bounce. The tip of him hitting exactly where you need it to. Your body is on fire and you are loving every second of it. The feeling of him inside of you, of his hands squeezing and caressing you everywhere he can, of his lips demanding yours for more.

His grunts are growing louder and his thrusts more powerful, you kiss him hard in an effort to quiet him some, but you can feel what is coming.

Geralt is near slamming you down on top of him, the sound of your ass slapping against his thick thighs mix with the salacious sounds coming from you both and of your slick wetness as you're worked up and down his shaft, your cunt taking him better and better with each thrust.

Your hands move to hold his face, your noses brush as you breathe each other's air, lips touching just slightly.

"Geralt, I'm,"

"I know," he pants harshly, concentrated before taking your lips in his. You whimper pathetically as the coil in your belly winds tighter and tighter. He keeps you moving a top him, your clit being stimulated with every brush of your hips over his, and then with another deep thrust it snaps before you can speak. Your voice is an empty high then silent squeak as your legs tremble and your eyes roll back. Are you even breathing? Your walls clench down on Geralt's cock and he finally allows himself to reach his own high as your tight walls flutter around him, squeezing him perfectly. You ride the waves of ecstasy as his come spills inside of you. You feel him shudder beneath you and it only adds to your feeling of weightlessness, stars in your eyes as you feel, think, breathe nothing but him.

You part from his lips and your bodies are slick with sweat as you both pant heavily. Geralt holds you to him as he softens inside of you, his forehead pressed to yours as your hand comes behind his neck, holding him to you in kind.

Your lips mimic a kiss but neither of you lean in close enough to actually do it. You work to catch your breath and settle for a minute before you finally break the quiet.

"Do I still owe you your coin?" you breathe, smiling when Geralt laughs in your face. You reach to move a stray strand of hair from his face, holding his cheek gently once you do.

Your stare into one another's eyes for a long moment, just breathing and being close.

"Where will you be off to in the morning?" you ask, hoping your solemn tone isn't as audible as it sounded to you.

"Don't know," he shakes his head, eyes straying to your lips.

You take a breath and pull his face closer to kiss him softly.

"I envy you, you know."

"Don't."

You huff a humorless laugh, readjusting yourself on his lap. "Not because you're a witcher. You may not have the most enviable life, but at least you have one. I've never made it past the most exterior gates," you smile sadly, playing with the hairs on his chest as you avoid his eye now.

"I suppose I'll have the chance, now, though. Thanks to you."

"And where will you go?" he asks.

Your gaze floats up to his and you repeat his previous answer. "I don't know. But I won't stay here. This kingdom is..." you shake your head. "I don't belong here. Never felt like I did. But I made a promise to my mother when I was young, and another to my father before he passed. I know I've let them down," you swallow the rise of emotion threatening to overcome you, "but alas, the fall of a kingdom is ever inevitable. Especially under such rule as my own."

"I've heard word of your rule from many. You're known to be kind. Caring. Protective, even. I don't believe you've failed. I think you were exactly the kind of ruler you should have been, who you needed to be. But perhaps it's a good thing you won't be forced any longer into holding power you don't desire. You're now free to do as you wish."

"I am," you nod lightly in agreement. "If only I knew where to start,” you muse with an uneasy laugh.

His hand runs up your back comfortingly; he's pensive, deep in thought for a long moment before he speaks.

"If you ready your things, I don't think Roach would mind a travel companion of her own. She seems to have taken to Belfast… I'm not sure she'd be ready to part with him so soon, anyway."

"Is that so?" you ask him, faux curiosity playing in your voice.

"And Jaskier is easier to take when I'm not the only one he has around to bother."

"Right," you nod, fighting your soft smile.

"And of course your coin would be useful as well."

"Of course," you exaggerate your agreement. "…Geralt, are you getting at something here?"

"Just that, if you want to join us…you might."

You lean into him again, thumb rubbing along his stubble lining his cheek, and this time he kisses you first. More gently than you expect. You can’t help your smile now.

You part lightly and breathe,

"I hope you mean that, Witcher. Because I just might."