#turned into these shapes of people like chess pieces on a board

[impossible-rat-babies]

OUGH I have got to do shadowheart’s personal quest

[wandering-tides]

People always rank either Ei or Zhongli (or both) above Venti in power rankings. Like, who is the strongest archon? There are always two answers: Morax or Beelzebul. Never Barbatos.

I like to think otherwise.

This guy has cut mountains with his winds and thrown them so far away into the sea, made winter disappear and turned Mond into what it is today: from a barren rocky land that used to be filled with snow and raging blizzards into this green plain field with gentle winds where agriculture is so much easier then it ever was back then. I don't think people of Old Mond could have ever imagined for Mond to turn into what it is today.

But he still calls himself weak. And people took that to face value. And some still do despite it being proven otherwise by Nahida.

Venti said that an archon derives their power from ruling over their nation. But Nahida denies this later and says that archons gain their power through the faith of the people.

Clearly, Venti lied to us.

And if we go by what Nahida said,,,, Every freakin person in Mond has faith in the Anemo archon. They sing praises of him despite not having been in the presence of their god for 5 centuries. He has a statue and a Cathedral (who else has that?).

So, Venti is Strong.

Remember his gnosis is in the shape of a queen chess piece? Queen has the most freedom on the board. Venti's ideals are freedom. And his element is anemo. Anemo is the free-est element out there.

He might as well suck the air out of your lungs if he so wants to. He governs over it.

My point is, Venti is overpowered.

And let's not forget how that little wind wisp gained archon hood.

It was his desire to protect that helped him into becoming a god. When the nameless bard died, he felt the need to protect whats left. To protect what his friend died fighting for.

And its a pretty cliche concept out their about how a hero grows stronger, in any story. Its their need to protect. Right?

And Venti still wants to protect Mond- despite him saying otherwise. He shows up everytime Mond is in danger. Whether directly or indirectly, he always helps out.

So here is what I think. The reason why he calls himself weak.

Its because he is so strong, strong enough to scare Celestia. So Celestia has put him on some sort of leash. He can't use his powers in it's entirety. There is probably some sort of seal.

So Venti is weak.

Because he can't use all of his powers. Because he is chained to Celestia's whim.

Venti is weakest of the seven because he is the only one who has some sort of leash on him.

The god of freedom, chained.

Plus, it can definitely not be a coincidence that the defiled statue was of Barbatos, out of all the seven. Chained, hanging up-side down and corrupted.

And the fact that the abyss order was going to use Barbatos (chained) statue to create a machine to "topple the divine thrones of Celestia."

None of that can be a coincidence. Knowing hoyoverse, it definitely isn't.

So yeah. Venti is definitely not weak. He just can't use the full extent of his powers as of right now.

Venti is strong, but also weak. If he isn't chained- he is easily the strongest.

He can slice the mountains and throw them far into sea- if Zhongli throws a big peice of meteor on him, venti should be able to cut it in half too. if he has all his power on him that is.

I really hate it when people call him weak just because he said so himself. Especially when it's been proven that we shouldn't take his words to face value.

He is not like our sweet little Nahida, people.

[savannahsdeath]

hii i love ur work!! id love to read about chess player!ellie x chess player!reader hate fucking the shit out of each other after one of them wins the tournament 🤭🤭

"You're not as boring as I thought...

...you are not as bright, either."

warnings: 18+!! edging, brat!reader, slight mean!ellie, dom!ellie, sub!reader, yeah js.. smut

writers note: i never told u guys before but pspsp.. i play chess !! so surprising right🤭🤭 and yes i used dominiques quote because . and . also ...,.

"what the fuck was that, huh?" she asked with a serious, cold tone. and maybe you'd even bother to answer, if she wasn't about nine inches deep in you. you rolled your eyes with a quiet whimper. "what? gonna throw a tantrum? i'm the one who should be mad. shit— i am fuckin' mad."

"see, el— maybe..." you hiccuped, managing to fully open your half-lidded eyes for a second. "maybe i'm just... better."

"better?" her eyes widened in shock, because even though she knew how much of a brat you can be she wasn't expecting that.

at some point, you were right. on the other hand, you didn't have to rub it in her face like that.

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

you could tell she had studied the art of offensive chess for quite some time. she would frequently sacrifice her pieces to gain control of the center of the board, relying on her opponent's hesitations to gain a positional advantage. however, her tactics had limitations.

as you continued to play defensively, her attacks became more predictable, and you were able to counter them. while you wondered how she had reached this level, you had to admit that her strategy would work perfectly against a not patient or uncertain opponent. time didn't matter to you, not as much as to your rival, so you easily took advantage of it.

she looked either bored or amused most of the time, keeping the atmosphere more relaxed than it should be. "...so those girls like chess players, y'know? they're just so easy-"

"focus." you cut her off in an indifferent tone. the fact that she wasn't paying much attention to your moves, busy with talking, was good, but her rambling also distracted you. you clicked the little button on the clock, signaling it's ellie's turn. "i get it, people like smart girls." you mumbled, leaning back in your chair. "are you one of them, though?" you continued in a doubting voice, unintentionally insulting her.

her usual smirk didn't leave her face but you could see her bite the inside of her cheek in slight annoyance or even frustration. "i'm gonna show you." she nodded, as if to reassure herself with a silent 'yeah, just you wait!' which you couldn't help but laugh at. well, maybe not laugh, but chuckle under your breath. your comment must really bother her, to the point you ruined her offensive tactic.

"you're not as boring as i thought..." you scanned the board through your firm gaze, searching for any potential threats. you straightened up, propping your elbows on the small table and laying your head on your hands, impatiently tapping your cheeks. as soon as she clicked the little knob you already knew what'll your move be, so you quickly extended your hand. "you're not as bright, either." you picked up your knight, tauntingly pattering it through the squares, mimicking a real horse. finishing the L-shaped distance seemed to take you ages, though it was really less than four seconds. you let go of it, making a muffled knocking sound as it hit the wooden board. "checkmate." you whispered, folding your hands and tilting your head.

you took a moment to take in her reaction, which, much to your disappointment, wasn't an interesting scene. in fact, her smirk only widened as she looked at the clock and saw what led to this - her reckless haste. she hummed and shook your hand, what showed that she agreed with the score.

"how could i not notice that?" she smiled, letting you know it doesn't matter to her. you started to wonder about her strange behaviour, which seemed weird compared to the known, easy to piss off ellie williams. and just then, you understood everything's how it should be. her grip on your hand painfully tightened, as if to prove that your suspicion is correct.

⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂ ⠂⠄⠄⠂☆

you felt her strap slid out of you, leaving your cunt hopelessly clenching around nothing. you raised your head, letting out a needy whimper and hoping to see what was she's up to. "els—"

"shut up." she murmured as she parted your thighs, revealing herself between them. she leaned down to have your slit at her eye level, with a quiet growl. "you're such a—" her tongue ran up and down your lips, collecting most of the slick you have accumulated. she looked up at you with a proud smirk. "fuckin' slut."

your fingers uncontrollably tangled with her hair, tugging on it while your free hand gripped the bed sheets. your cunt was still sensitive after being filled with her strap, so her soothing tongue felt comfortingly painful. she lightly sucked on your clit, forcing a desperate moan out of you.

"so you're the smart one? is that right?" she asked, her voice interrupted by either your little gasps or her breaks to plant another kiss on your core. "why don't you say something smart then?" her mocking tone echoed in your head as you tried to form a sentence. before you could, she stuck her tongue in your throbbing hole, making your thighs snap shut. she quickly helped them regain to their previous position, not pulling her hands away for longer than needed as if she wanted to make sure her fingers will leave a reminder, in form of at least reddening your sensitive skin or, most likely, giving you some bruises.

you felt your climax approaching so soon it felt embarrassing, truly embarrassing. you started babbling nonsense as your cunt clenched around her tongue, which continued to fuck in and out of you.

the amazing feeling suddenly left, replaced by her thumb roughly circling your clit. you watched as she sat up and smiled down at you, licking her lips in a temptingly slow way. the brat living inside of you was the first one to speak up, huffing out her name in an obviously annoyed gesture.

"c'mon." she cooed in a mockingly sweet voice, making sure her thumb is doing a good job. good job at torturing, ruining and making you even more desperate, if that's even possible. "what would a smart girl say in your situation?" she clicked her tongue, making you feel all the control you had slid out between your fingers and sink into the bed sheets. no matter how much you didn't want to admit it, someone finally managed to make you feel hopeless.

"but, ellie, look—" you whined, trying to take as much satisfaction from the touch she was giving you, but it only seemed like a pathetic version of what you could have. you could have way more. you needed way more.

"i don't want to hear any buts." she stopped her thumb, hardly pressing it against your clit, staring at you with stern and serious eyes which you weren't used to see from her. "we both know what a smart girl should say, yeah? aren't you one? are you admitting you're just a slut?" she sighed as if she was disappointed in you.

you shook your head, closing your eyes from the mix of all possible emotions; from embarrassment to proudness. "please, need— need you and... oh, please, ellie..." you broke, begging for more in the most miserable way imaginable.

she bitterly laughed, murmuring an amused "god, you're really a slut" under her breath. her thumb left your clit and both of her hands found their place on your thighs, making you hiss at the touch of your earlier irritated skin. you whined, the sound of your rambling slowly drifting away and getting replaced by just as beautiful moans. you heard her voice but you didn't really understand what she said, nor paid any attention to it, as your mind went blank. your hips kept waving up and down, trying to add to the feeling. your miserable attempts earned either a chuckle or scoff from ellie, but she didn't even try to stop you, enjoying this as much as you.

hooking up with bimbo's might be easy, but making a mess out of a girl smarter than her was way more satisfying.

[ihopeinevergetsoberr]

the counterpart

chapter 4 — the day after you stole my heart

rating: explicit. the smut chapter is here. i’m done edging ya’ll. or am i?…

word count: 5,5k

pairing: viktor x fem!reader (no use of y/n, as usual)

cw: smoking, some mild cussing. now to the real shit: did you know you can play chess and fuck simultaneously? well now you know. everybody say thank you sober. brief oral, (fem receiving), unprotected sex. poorly proof-read, i’ll deal with that a bit later.

part 5 —

Every chess player had a favourite vice. That is a proverbial axiom, a mandatory requirement to pursuing a chess career: if one doesn’t have a murderous little something to kill him slowly, but surely — then they shall forever be declared an amateur, a poser, a pathetic excuse of a genius. 

Blackburne loved a good drink. He would chug that scotch down like a thirsty man, but it didn’t stop him from becoming the greatest of his time — he mastered the art of combining poison with flawless skill. Tal, on the other hand, held onto his liquor crutch a bit too tight — it didn’t blunt his sharp mind, yet still made people wonder how he‘d managed not to drink himself into a much earlier grave. Generational differences or the infamous Eastern European relationship with alcohol? The biographers weren’t exactly sure, but one fact still remains a tragic reality: once you touch the piece professionally — you’re doomed, and winning a tournament won’t be the only addictive feeling in your life. 

But what were Viktor’s vices? 

He liked to think he had none. He would politely turn down every temptation, and it made him unique — an outstanding exception, a pleasant anomaly. 

Until he met his undoing. His mess of disheveled hair, mingled scents of thrifted threadbare leather, nail-polish and tobacco, mascara fallouts under each tortured with the lack of sleep eye, his  constant, impeccable taunt — light-hearted, slightly erotic, animate. 

A vice of special danger. A vice much worse than some substance corrupting one's lungs or liver. A vice that went straight for his poor heart. 

A woman. 

A provocation.

You. 

Viktor knew he was a goner the second you challenged him, smartassing your way out of the massacre of pawns — a risky trick not every professional is daring to try, crass and intimidating, and therefore effective. Quite the aggressive nuisance you were — you encroached on his pieces, yet even the possibility of swallowing a delicious knight or two wasn’t tempting enough for you to stoop down to chasing after a man. He really had to lure you into losing that carefulness, boring you out to make you throw yourself at him — but only on the board, of course. Viktor would never indulge more unvarnished fantasies. A bewitched one, yet still a gentleman. 

Although he could picture making a solid threat out of you. After all, you were already threatening his sanity. He wore the afterglow of your touch like a phantom trophy, sweetly picturing how other parts of you would feel at the mercy of his tenderness — if only you’d be willing to allow him near you like that: in ways that involved sacrally holding hands and shyly asking for permission to press a goodbye kiss to the crooked corner of your smirking mouth. A threat like that is more than capable of becoming a chess menace: if that’s what you can do to a delicate man’s mind after just one unfinished match and a few equivocal conversations — then you could easily become a champion.

But was he allowed to become something more than just a counterpart shaping you into a better player? Was he allowed to think of you softly when he laid face up in the dark comfort of his room, silence pulsating rhythmically in each ear, as mind drifted to the sound of your laughter — raspy from all the cigarettes you have for lunch? Was he allowed to stare at your hands as they contemplated their next move? To memorize each crack of the thick red coating your nails? To wonder if you’d be opposed to accepting a soft kiss pressed to the cleft of your knuckles after he’d helped you patch up — if only he was brave enough to offer it?

The desperate need to acquaint himself with you more intimately kept suckling at his usually reserved demeanor, melting it off his secretly passion-starved soul. The whole Saturday was spent in aching anticipation, the board with your by-heart recorded moves spread on his desk, a palm slammed across Viktor’s forehead as he replayed your game over and over again. Jayce peeked from behind the sharp arc of his shoulder, clueless as to what could possibly drive his tactful friend into a distress of that extent. 

Viktor groaned, aggressively pressing his fingers into his hot from the restless thinking temple. The pieces were mocking him from their hopeless positions — at this point they could’ve aligned into the word ‘liar’ and it would still pain him less than their current placement. 

There was no draw. The absence of queen was crucial in your situation — especially considering your previous moves. You really couldn’t get out of this. And he knew it the very instance you’d accidentally caged yourself with that impulsive hunger for his bishop. 

And he lied to you. Willingly. Out of pure, selfish eagerness — just to see your brain come up with a solution, and he was oh so close to witnessing it — if only you didn’t gnaw into your nail halfway through. If only he didn’t have a lecture to get to that Friday. 

But charming women demand academic sacrifices. He’ll do better next time. If next time ever comes. How naїve of him. 

“I don’t get it,” Jayce muttered, throwing another puzzled gaze on Viktor’s dim misery, “why would you lie to her about the draw?” 

Viktor sighed, leaning into his chair, wincing at the heavy moanful creak of it.

“I wanted to see her squirm, I suppose,” he confessed, but the answer didn’t seem to please him. “Scratch that, not squirm. She’s a… strange player, let’s put it that way. I just wanted to see her try to get out of that irreparable quandary. Sheer curiosity, if you will.” 

“Strange player as in… hopeless?” Jayce quiered, carefully hovering about the board, forehead wrinkled into a frown as he desperately tried to understand what ‘quandary’ Viktor was referring to.

“No, not at all,” Viktor objected, defensively. Had Jayce smiling knowingly at the rushed remark, light-hearted mockery spilling out of his friendly grin. “Impulsive, more like. Brilliant, but so impulsive. If that wasn’t the case — I would‘ve offered her a draw. At the very least. She could’ve beat me if she noticed my plans on her queen in time.” 

“Tell her you lied to her.” 

“I’m certain she already noticed that much,” Viktor muttered, tired frustration prominent in each heavy sigh as his fingers found a few pieces, twisted them nervously a few times, then poked the pad of his index sharp and angry — as if trying to pierce right through it, to sober up from the heaving regret. 

Charming women demand honesty. Precision. Utter resentment even towards experimental white lies.

Or do they really? Viktor was about to find out. 

On a Sunday morning he woke up coated in sweat, trembling hand an anxious slam against his wet forehead in a frightened search for signs of fever, followed by a relieved exhale when he didn’t find any. The squealing alarm clock kept persistently reminding him of the tortures he was yet to endure before the revanche — two hours of cramping anticipation: one spent on a rushed meal and a cold shower and the other on an even more hastened trip to the bakery. 

He watched the baker wrap the pastries for him with a meticulous frown — that polite old lady wasn’t aware of the importance of her mission, of the fact that those fluffy buchteln were actually a peace offering. Them, and his decision not to bring the timers with him today. Perhaps keeping you well-fed and unlimited in torturing him on the board for however long you pleased could make up for the silly lie he’d regretted so immensely. 

The walk to your dorm was slow, slothful even — he picked the long picturesque path on purpose: both not to suffer from the still merciless sunlight, and to avoid showing up earlier than you requested. It takes a lot to please a woman, and he was willing to commit to it — but a sweet little something and some punctuality would have to suffice for now. 

So at eleven sharp, with a handful of baked goods wrapped in crispy paper and a nervous grip on the handle of his cane, Viktor was already standing at your door. He sighed, checking the number on it for the umpteenth time — and when that glistening little ‘505’ glared down at him from its honorary position, his hand had finally flexed into a fist and knocked. Politely. 

No response. Only an illegible little something — supposedly, an annoyed groan — audible through the door, and Viktor cocks an eyebrow, knocking again; this time, a little bit more insistently. 

“Fuck’s sake, what part of ‘do not disturb’ you didn’t get?” 

Five angry footsteps. No warning to back off. Five more jarring spins of the clanking keys — and the door flies open, practically disarming Viktor of his cane, forcing him to clumsily step away, going limp and even paler. 

“Oh. It’s you.” So soft. Like that mouth — now stretched into a lovely grin — wasn’t just spewing harsh swears. Like those tangled signs of freshly interrupted slumber weren’t scattered across your hair like a sweet morning torture. Like you were completely oblivious to the slight arc your waist caught as you leaned on the doorframe, thin straps of the see-through shirt hanging loosely off each shoulder.

A dare. To slip even lower, to find that fabric crumpled above your navel and — of course — fully absent around the hips, flowing into just as exposed thighs, then calves, and, finally, a definitely barefoot sight. 

He didn’t make it past your underwear. 

Spellbound, he followed the nod of your head — a few hesitant steps inside, gaze clumsy and inquisitive, already roaming across your room. A humble tremble as it slid over the swell of your backside when you rushed to the lock — to keep him in that cozy cage of yours for today. Eyes rolled, running over the messy bed — no doubt, still warm after you basked in it sweet and half-naked. He spotted the board and lingered there, in a nervous attempt to count every fallen into the folded sheets piece. Anything to find a decent enough distraction while you were struggling to crawl into your jeans — the ones you threw onto your desk the night before, hoping to have them on before he shows up. 

“You really do sleep in on Sundays,” he found his voice, choking on a chuckle and watching you scurry around the place, finally not with your ass out. One hop to the left to grab a brush, one slip to the right to practically knock over an ashtray on the bookshelf — a haphazard thing, chaotic and rhythmless. 

“I went to bed late,” you mumbled a confession apologetically. “Took me a while to analyze our game. Which, mind you, wouldn’t have been the case if someone hadn’t lied to me about the draw.” 

“Is that the reason for your, eh… discontentment?” Viktor quiered, chuckling again. Caught you facing his back with a quizzical frown and met your gaze slyly over his shoulder. Pupils dilated and swiftly followed you to the bathroom, beautifully regretful as he realised that you were about to leave him for a few minutes. 

“No,” you laughed, walking out of the reach of his peripheral vision. “A few neighbors tried to disturb my precious beauty sleep earlier. You just happened to come under the fire.” 

He hummed in silent understanding, accepting the invitation to explore your room with every fiber of his insatiable curiosity — fingers ran over the contents of your bookshelf, stroked the spine of ‘Masters of the Chessboard’ languid and delicate, relishing that delicious dejavu of the library incident in dreamy reminiscence. Had him stiffening as he caught a rhythmic shuffle coming from the bathroom, then smirking awkwardly as he realized you were simply brushing your teeth. Legs were aching for rest, yet he didn’t answer their painful calling, simply hovering above your desk with a heavy gasp — taking in every notebook and unsharpened pencil.  

“Would you take that handsome nose out of my writing?” 

Viktor shuddered, clinging off the crime scene with a dismissive shrug, shoulders arched and tense as you raced past them and whisked an ashtray out of its lonesome spot behind the books. Elbows brushed against each other sharp and brief, causing him to turn around with a guilty giggle. Eyes met yours one more time, then fell to your still tortuously uncovered clavicles. You didn’t change out of that loose shirt. A vengeful move or a generous blessing — Viktor was grateful for it nonetheless. And you kindly let him feast upon you in his respectful rapture, as long as he kept looking at you like that — with the excitement of a medieval man fainting at the sight of an exposed ankle. 

You crossed whatever little distance divided you from the bed in a single step, kicked the muddled blanket off it like a stupid obstacle and slithered straight on the mattress, ordering him to sit down with a muffled tap by your side. Viktor cleared his throat and obeyed, albeit not expecting to get into one bed with you that fast; left his cane by your desk, took his shoes off and joined you on the sheets, stretching a braced leg out with a fleeting wince. Smiles were exchanged again, limbs relaxed and sank into the all-besieging softness, fallen chess pieces found and resurrected from their countless dents in the linens. 

“Did you have any trouble finding me?” you finally interrupted the comfortable silence. He shook his head. 

“No. I’m good at following instructions. Didn’t even have to bother your clientele.” 

“And what’s that?” your finger pointed at the package he held protectively and your stomach suddenly whined for whatever was inside of it, instantly recognising the familiar bakery label on the paper. You spotted an oily stain at the bottom of it. Must be something sweet. Pastries. 

“Oh,” he handed the precious wrap to you. “I’ve brought lunch. Well, breakfast, in your case, I suppose.” 

You abandoned the chess board for him to set and anchored greedily into your bucheln, devouring it in a few excitedly large bites. It made him laugh — low and raspy, head rocked back in a precious quiver as eyes closed shut, tempting you to steal a peek at his contorted with chortling face. Flushed. Pretty. 

“Thank you,” you mumbled through a chew, feeling the treat melt on your tongue deliciously — a freshly baked gift all yours to satiate with. And when you were done with it — all too fast, to be frank — your gaze returned to the board, widening at the sight of patiently waiting at your side white pieces. 

“I thought we’re handling some unfinished business first?” 

“No need. We both know the outcome anyway,” he declined discreetly. “I’d rather watch you take your revenge.” 

You froze above the row of your pawns, considering the offered privilege. They were reflecting the light with hostile glints, ready to attack. Belligerent and nothing like those glimmers in Viktor’s eyes — all humble and endlessly curious. His dark pieces tensed up in quiet obedience, fully anticipating the first blood to be drawn. 

So you indulged him, but not at all mercifully. No pastries can quench the hunger for vengeance. And he understood. He complied. 

You greeted him with the taste of his own venom — pawns met in a good old Sicilian once again, resenting each other obliquely from their standard positions. 

1.e4. The predictable, flavourful treason. A choice made not for the sake of efficiency — you opened like that because it was personal. 

Simply couldn’t resist when it felt so right — to have Viktor completely at your disposal, and, most importantly, out of his own will. He huffed and moved his piece with an unimpressed sigh. Must’ve seen that coming. Of course. 

“Eye for an eye, Viktor.” 

He snickered. “Pawn for a pawn, more like.” A fucking smartass. 

Your knight made an appearance next — you wanted to punch your way through a barricade he was about to build for you, hoping to prevent a possible attack. No need to fight the urge to shift closer, foreheads practically touching as both of you hovered above the board, glances so sharp no blade could ever compete with their inveteracy.

The plan was working. He moved another pawn to d6 for protection, playing into your delusion, and your breath grew hotter before his face in a cheeky laugh. Matched his energy with the same careful move — but not for the sake of creating a shield. It was a calculated preparation for a strike. And as you waited for him to bend to your will, he proved you wrong and took your pawn in two swift motions — one on the board, the other in a small jerk forward, close enough to steal that incredulous gasp of yours into his mouth, if only he was persistent enough. 

Oh the fucking audacity! You pulled away from him to a distance more appropriate for a game of chess: both to bite back and to compensate for the distracting nature of your attire. Amber eyes twitched and descended to the crevice of your cleavage, then sprinted back to the board. Either still not brave enough, or simply reluctant to stare at the cost of a loss. 

But you noticed. Noticed, and took it to your advantage, cruelly destroying the pawn he tricked you with while he was distraught. Weaponized his obvious weakness to whatever was so precious about your chest and bare shoulders, watching him put his knight into action with a now trembling hand. All is fair in love and war. 

The torture was impeccable. It lasted long — diabolically so, extending every time he stepped back to save his pale ass from your aggressive approach. Fingers fiddled with the button of his collar when you almost caged him into a stalemate. Took you a dozen moves, one lost knight and around twenty minutes to do so.

Only twenty minutes. Filled with tension thicker than Bobby Fisher’s book, but that’s besides the point. 

And yet he managed to get out of it — his queen lurched a few squares forward and dissected you from the check, ruining the perfect sight; made you swear angrily in a bitter whisper. Close, but no cigar. And you needed one. Desperately. 

“Do you mind if I smoke?” you queried, watching him frown with a dismissive shrug. 

“It’s your room.” 

“That’s not what I asked.” 

Viktor sighed. Fingers flew to his shirt again, popping open one more button. Had your gaze nailed to the bulge of his voice box, to the slight tilt of his head when he smiled, tucking a single chestnut strand out of his narrowed eyes. A tease. A fidgety vision. 

“If you please.” 

Good. 

You reached for the thrown somewhere nearby ashtray — as if the version of you from twenty minutes before knew that dealing with this man would be impossible without nicotine. Slipped into your pocket and handed him a pack, offering to share the poison together. He declined with a polite head shake and watched you put the cigarette slowly into your mouth — supposedly jealous of the stupid thing. Your pieces waited all around the place, aching to repeat the maneuver as soon as you were done harassing that poor, rusty lighter. 

He ousted you of some promising options. You let the smoke fill your lungs, overlooking whatever little possibilities he left you to choose from — you could sacrifice one more pawn in exchange for his bishop later: but that won’t work if he notices it in time. Or you could refrain from attacking him just now in order to move closer to that delicious piece you were eyeing — both would result in a little compromise nonetheless. 

You picked the latter. Moved the rook to d6 and exhaled with a wet little pop, catching him drawn to the slowly flowing out of your mouth smoke. Like he cared more about the shape of your lips than a grave you dug for him on the board. If only he slipped up to actually fall in it. 

“You look distracted,” you whispered, going in for another drag. It burned your throat nice and thorough, adding to the kick you were getting out of aiming for his defense. 

“I am distracted,” he confirmed with a hard swallow. “You’re not playing fair.” 

“How so?” 

“There was no need to make this so, eh… intimate.”

“Intimate?” 

“Well, excuse me for the lack of a better vocabulary,” he snapped and abruptly captured your pawn, then threw it off the board with a hopeless huff. “You never claimed to be condescending and I’m aware of that, but please don’t toy with me. That’s beyond cruel.” 

You stirred, letting the cigarette smolder into a thin bridge of ashes. Smiling to the accusation didn’t feel right anymore — his voice, tired of devastation, reduced you to thoughtfulness for a split second. Made you crave to address it softly. 

“Are you questioning my methods?” 

“No,” Viktor sighed. “I’m questioning my ability to resist them.” 

Amber eyes flickered and slid up the curve of your shoulder, hands failed to abide by the stupid restraint and reached for you: one twined around your wrist and squeezed, tight and desperate, the other itched to cup your knee — but still lacked the boldness. Thankfully, you had just enough to flood the whole room. 

“Then don’t resist,” you pleaded, feeling his breath collide with the bitter heat of yours. 

And his hesitation crumbled, spilling clumsily against your bottom lip. Faces crushed together above the board, mouths opened and molded together hastily — a strangling union, full of whimpers and urgent tongue flicks. Made your hand go limp in his possessive clutch, and he used that opportunity to guide it into the ashtray, putting out the cigarette your tongue still tasted of. 

So needy. Like he wanted you to crawl into his throat and slice it tenderly from the inside — if only doing so could guarantee that your kiss will be his undoing. In every single appropriate and inappropriate way. 

Lips felt bruised, fingers used their newfound freedom to dig into his hair and tug him away from you softly, lungs burned from breathing him in sharply but oh so heavenly, and you were back at it again within seconds, though with starvation not nearly as impressive as his. Spine arched for him, tingling sweetly when he nudged you slightly to the left  — away from the ashtray, the board and all the moves you were yet to make. Feral, but so careful — he was so afraid of destroying your work, yet so keen on ruining you. Preferably for any other man. 

Viktor touched like a keeper, like someone others wouldn’t even dare to compete with. Had you shivering in a little convulsion when two undoubtedly talented fingers clung to your lower back and pressed, gliding swiftly into that delicious little dip. Made you wish he could grab more — like a trembling thigh or an ass cheek. You should’ve stayed in your underwear. 

But he yielded so preciously. Didn’t let you near that pulsing spot on his neck when you tried to switch to it from his mouth: lips stayed on lips, and he intended to keep it that way. Hands locked behind your back and forced an attack, pulling you close enough to melt gently into his lap, and you left that vampiric attempt for later, settling for straddling him — tight and selfish. Not without a tiny evil itch to tease him out of that sudden bravery, to remind him that it’s you who plays White today. But judging from every pant Viktor made beneath you, he was pretty much aware of that. 

You heard him gasp when tongues finally unraveled reluctantly, sharp chin still glistened with your spit, breath was a mess subtly tickling your neck. It drew a laugh out of him — that lovely sound of contentment nuzzling your collarbones with a soft shake, grateful for whatever pieces of you he was allowed to feel. Palms kept sweating nervously against the skin he found under your rolled up shirt. 

“Greedy much?” you gave into the soft, tempting mockery. Leaned into his craving mouth and threw your head back, seizing every lick, nip and suck it had to offer. Let him move his palms elsewhere — wherever he pleased, really — and they fell into a cautious squeeze of both breasts, leaving sweet, eager scorches. Scooped your heart race up into a grip and pinched teasingly at one nipple, rolled it hard and stole a choked up moan. Yes. He was greedy. Very much so. 

But the jeans were still there, tangling into the embrace and making it impossibly hard to find where he was hard for you. And you needed to feel him throb, raw and impatient as he was against your own torturous ache. As he would’ve been, to be precise — if not for the thick denim separating you cruelly from this obscenity. 

He wasn’t thrilled to part with you even for a moment, eyes the prettiest begging stunt when you slid out of his lap — and, simultaneously, out of bed, pupils widened when he realized just what kind of honor you were about to do him. Fingers stayed on your hips and held them in place as you rose above him, digging into each shoulder for whatever leverage those trembling things could provide. Letting him help you out of that attire nice and slow — for the sake of savoring the sight Viktor didn’t deem himself worthy of earlier. Catching the bat of his breath when the cloth thumped to the floor, wrapping around your feet creased and forgotten. You stepped out of it in mad haste, felt him admire the softness of thighs with a languid touch as gaze flew back to yours in a shy request for permission. 

And when you nodded, suddenly flushed from having this boy like this — messy-haired, hot and soft spoken, he stilled you securely between his widely parted legs and kissed you softly on the belly — just above that aroused little spot where you needed him most. Had you breaking in half above him, keening raggedly as he hooked his thumb into your pitifully soaked underwear and pulled it tenderly to the side, dark eyes glistening about just as much as the slick of your exposed folds. 

A resolute man —  he knew exactly what he wanted and went for it without hesitation. His tongue darted out to taste you in one long, relishing swipe — from slit to clit, deliciously sour as you were, moaning at his ministration. And that skilfull torture lasted a few pleasantly long minutes — until you were turned into an almost cumming disarray of weak knees and spasming muscles. 

But, strangely enough, you wanted to be even with him. One knee bent and pushed lightly into his crotch, felt him tense up inside the tight cage of pants. He handed you the lead and fell boneless onto the sheets, head a muffled smack against the roughness of your headboard. Had you crawling back to him on all shaky fourth, shirt and ruined undergarments thrown barbarously to the nearest nightstand. 

Impeccable in your naked splendor, you sat atop him again, chest heavy with all the things his spread out form did to your fragile heart. And it failed to resist the flaming urge to kiss him, smiling at the way he absorbed all of you so quickly — tongue caustic with your flavour, chestnut hair smelled of bitter cigarettes. Like he was already yours, ready to be kept in this muggy room for as long as you wished to have him. 

You pulled away to cup him gently through the tortuous obstacle of clothes, palming whatever you could feel through that redundantly thick layer. And, judging from the Czech curse he hissed through his clenched teeth, you managed to feel just enough — made him slam a palm against that debauched little whimper, appalled to his own loss of eloquence. Bit his lip and nodded, weak and wobbly, at that curved throb. 

“Please.” 

And you allowed him that mercy. More so to soothe that painful need of him inside you than to ease his sensitive predicament — but it didn’t matter. Not when you pulled his pants down, brusque and impatient, let them roll clumsily around his lean thighs. Didn’t waste much time on his underwear either — lust came before manners, made you gasp when fingers wrapped around just what you were about to take. Body foretasted a tight, girthy fit. 

It felt heavy in your hand, smacked against his stomach with a lewd sound when you failed to hold it through a shudder. Caught him staring not so placidly when hips arched, making you glide along the inches of him in a smooth little agony. Gaze darkened when you hovered, working him through the warm clench of entrance. He didn’t dare to rush you, to pierce through you to get that over with. Just took you carefully by the wrists and leveled the back of one palm with his swollen lips, softly kissing each knuckle while you stretched around him slow and pliable. Had you swearing when he budged and tip finally slid deep inside with a delicious tingle. 

“Is being defeated the price I must pay for this?” he spoke through a raspy laugh, eyes still nailed to the debauched twine of your bodies. “I’ll gladly start resigning after my very first move if that’s the case.” 

“But I didn’t win,” you breathed out, freeing one hand out of his lovely grasp. “We didn’t get to finish.” 

He stiffened. Fingers unraveled from yours completely, returning to his side. 

“Would you like to finish?” 

You gulped, twitching around him with a strangled whimper. 

“Yes.” 

And he took it for a command. Turned slowly to the board and reached for it not exactly effortlessly, cautious not to knock any pieces over. Brows formed a concentrated frown as he rotated it, attentive and skittish, returning the army of attacking white into your possession. Placed it all softly onto his stomach and held a breath, trying oh so diligently not to ruin a single thing with the slight rise of his inhale. Made you laugh as your thighs parted wider to make more place for the duel, felt him quiver inside you out of sheer, depraved excitement. 

He won’t last long. Not a chance. 

So you decided to rid him of his misery. First rid, then ride, to be precise — but was it really a misery when you were wrapped around him so viciously tight, keeping him so warm through the rough slap of defeat? If anything, a single loss is a steal for that twisted bliss. 

And you could already see the sweet victory. Rook took the bishop you were drooling over the whole time, gave you the cheeky opportunity to switch to a wheezy whisper. 

“Check.” Good god. 

Caught you nearly cumming on his cock — who needs friction when seductive mockery is an option?

His move smelled of retreat — not that he had any other routes. King ran away to h7, hiding behind the pawn, but you were biting right at its shiny crown, destroying his precious shelter with that same acute rook. 

“Check.” Again. Had him twitching into that luscious spot in one sudden hitch, mouth failed to suppress the most pitifully delicious moan. 

So when he attempted to escape for the third time — though rather reluctantly, to be frank — your queen stood right there before him, emitting pure humiliation. And, sure, he could still sweep it off its precious square by a simple f8 move — but it wouldn’t save him from the sly rook, sneakily waiting to put him into a numerous deadlock. A sweet, inescapable doom, leaking all over him. So he picked that poison and surrendered. In an old-fashioned way. Just like you imagined. Left the honors for you to do. 

“Checkmate,” you uttered, and couldn’t take it anymore — foreheads bumped together fervent and sweaty, pieces poked the skin of your stomach, crushing beneath it as you leaned to kiss him rough and desperate. Hips finally made their first buck to help you both pick up where you left off. 

But Viktor yearned to be helpful too. Pieces fell all over the place for you to find them later when long fingers dug into your hips, forcing both you and the board off of him. So pent up, so lovingly untamed — he threw you into the pile of chess, sheets and ashes, and thrusted deeper, had you seeing stars on the blank space of your ceiling. Quarrel died beneath him with whatever little shame you still weren’t disposed of, and your legs wrapped around his waist into a tight lock, pulling him so flush against you that breasts started to hurt from just how hard they were squashed under the pressure of his chest. 

—

That Sunday you received a noise complaint from your neighbors. Lost three pawns, one rook and two bishops somewhere in your sheets. Viktor walked out of your room with a giant scratch across the crook of his sore shoulder and a few buttons of his shirt missing. 

But looking back at it, when you collapsed, breathy and fucked out, onto the destroyed amenity of your bed — the thoughts of your newfound counterpart haunted you until eyes squeezed shut, drifting to slumber with a content smirk.

And it was totally worth it.

tags: @zaunitearchives @blissfulip @thehistoriangirl @queen-of-elves @vyshnevska

[adhdbisexualramblings]

I really like your Bill Regressor headcanons! Have you thought about a scenario where you describe the circumstances under which Ford was able to positively make him regress? I'd be curious to hear more about that!

Aaaaa thank you!! I’m glad people enjoyed them!

I have thought of that scenario, actually! And I will now give it to you in story form! It’s long so I’m putting it under the cut.

(The story takes place during The Book of Bill’s “drunk karaoke session” (spoilers by the way), meaning that there will be alcohol use and also regression while drunk (Bill has problems). As stated before, Bill’s regression is not typical. His regression is very subtle. I’m hoping I wrote it adequately. :) )

(I also got WAY too into the pre-regression part so apologies regarding that-)

(A quick note: I am aware the Bill and Ford are not great relationship-wise. This story isn’t saying that they are, only that they had good moments together. I’m writing this as a what-if scenario based on headcanons - do with that what you will.)

Title: What a Night

Another knight hops across the board to tear into a bishop with its newly acquired sharp teeth.

“Bill-!” The laugh in Ford’s voice couldn’t be clearer as the horse-shaped piece happily chews its opponent. “That’s not��valid!”

“That’s a regular move in inter-dimensional chess! I think you’re just a sore loser.”

Bill swirls his glass and takes a sip himself before offering it to Ford, who takes it gratefully to drink a larger portion. The glass never empties.

“God, you mix a good drink.” He praises with a content sigh, slumping further into the comfortable velvet seat.

“They don’t call me the “universe’s best bartender” for nothin’, you know!” Bill blinks once and leans across the chessboard, knocking over a few pieces, “Wink!”

Stanford grins. He moves to grab a rook and jerks back when it snaps at his finger. He laughs joyously and retries.

“Well, I was Jersey’s best chess player for nearly a decade straight,” to the kids that would play against him, which weren’t many. Still, Ford boasts, “and I can’t assess your bartender thing - I don’t get out into the inter-dimensional bars too often, but you…your drink was…oh, boy,” he giggles, already feeling tipsy. Bill laughs loudly at that; it echoes through the Mindscape.

After many, many, chess rounds that ended in ties, the two companions are more wasted than ever.

“No, Bill, we’ve played We’ll Meet Again five times already.”

Bill pokes an accusatory finger at Ford, hogging their one microphone.

“Shhhut it, IQ. You - you just have terrible taste. ‘K?”

Ford huffs but lets the karaoke happen. He crosses his arms and waits on their couch while Bill slurs the lyrics, completely unaware of his  own volume level. Still, he seems to be enjoying himself. The music in the Mindscape stops. Bill droops in place as soon as it does, microphone dangling in his loose fingers. Singing his heart out to Vera Lynn each and every time probably wasn’t a great idea.

“…OK, I’m bored. Your turn.”

Ford catches the microphone tossed his way and grins widely. Bill replaces his spot on the couch, wiped out. He sighs deeply and adjusts his hat as Ford decides. All Bill needs is a little more pep, he’s sure of it. Hell, he’ll offer some to Fordsy, too. With a clunky wave of his hand, Bill’s “Myoclonic Jerk” appears in his hand. It wobbles in his lax grip before he grips it with both hands and chugs what would be the whole glass if the drink wasn’t infinite. A fuzzy feeling wraps around Bill instantly, and he’s too distracted to realize it’s more than the buzz of alcohol.

“Hey, Sixer!” He leans forward and holds up the glass double-handed like a trophy. Ford whips around from the handy little song selection screen. His eyes fall on the drink. He stumbles closer to the couch to take it.

“Hey, wo-oah, smaller sips.” Bill advises without much actual danger attached to it, clearly amused. He snaps his fingers, popping the drink out of existence after Ford’s share. Ford blinks at his empty hand in confusion, making Bill laugh again. It’s closer to a giggle this time. Ford gathers himself in time to glance at the selection screen.

“Oh, I picked som-something. C’mere.”

Bill floats up, finds himself unsteady, and conjures his cane to “help” him keep his balance despite the fact that the cane is no help at all. He stumbles some and giggles. Bill twirls the cane poorly, squinting at the screen.

“Disco Girl?”

Ford’s drunkenness doesn’t stop him from being self-conscious, it seems. He chuckles with a hesitant smile.

“It’s admittedly catchy.”

Bill crinkles his eye into a grin, bouncing a little.

“Hey, I’m stellar at keeping secrets, Fordsy!”

The song plays.

Saturday night is a night alright Time to groove till the morning light..

Bill knew of Ford’s guilty pleasure for the pop group, but the way he sang with such carefreeness for the entire three minutes had even the triangle surprised. Ford was similarly surprised and overjoyed when his companion also knew the lyrics.

At some point, Ford gets into the groove of the song and starts dancing along. Bill, also plenty giddy, follows suit.

Ford laughs between lyrics, a grin lighting up his features - the laugh booms around the Mindscape. It’s bright, hearty, and from the belly. Bill takes a moment to address the warm pit that laugh leaves in his body. He grins again and gets closer.

Their dancing stays separate for the most part, until Bill slings a hand around Ford’s shoulder and Ford grazes his hand long enough for Bill to feel it.

Bill freezes at the touch. Ford doesn’t, perfectly content. Slowly, Bill takes his hand away to stare at it with a wide eye. The part where Ford’s warm hand had touched his buzzes softly.

The fuzzy feeling from the alcohol and other factors increases. Bill blinks. An odd feeling wells up the longer he keeps thinking of the touch. He’s thinking so much that he doesn’t notice the song end.

“-Bill?” The voice calls.

The addressed demon blinks again - must’ve spaced out. He keeps his touched hand suspended and looks to Ford. The human stopped dancing a while ago and realized his companion had looked off.

Ford must have gotten concerned, Bill realizes. It makes Bill feel…nice.

He finds he wants something from Stanford. It’s not the portal or eternal servitude; Bill knows that’s not it. It ties to the fuzziness he’s been feeling. He decides to figure it out.

He grins and laughs, not fake in the slightest.

“Hah! Do that again!” Bill thrusts his hand to Stanford, the implication being clear as day in his mind, which is starting to feel even happier.

“…Do what?” Ford asks with an owlish blink. He looks down at Bill’s hand and looks to his own six-fingered one, gears turning. It finally clicks, “Hold your hand?”

Seeing nothing wrong with it and susceptible to suggestions, Ford fulfills the request and bring his hand to clasp it around Bill’s smaller one.

The warmth from Ford travels up Bill’s arm and only adds to the warmth in the rest of his body. Bill blinks silently again. Oh. Wow, that felt…comfortable?

Bill slips.

Without registering what he’s really doing, he leans into Ford and grips one of his fingers with his hand, moving to sit on his shoulder. Ford makes a little noise of confusion, to which Bill only giggles at. In a second, all the alcohol is figuratively flushed out of Bill’s system as his earlier excitement dies. Ford frowns.

“Bill? Are you alright?”

Bill gathers himself with a chuckle, “Pfft. Of course I am, Fordsy.” He lies.

Bill’s getting oddly sleepy. He was used to this tiredness, however; it went hand-in-hand with the fuzzy feeling. He squeezes Ford’s finger tighter, which doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Y’know what? It’s been a long night,” Bill starts, temping down the slight fog in his mind.

“…Has it?” Ford asks confusedly. Even intoxicated, he notices the behavior switch in his muse.

“O-oh, sure!” Bill finds that he’s unusually tired. It must’ve been the alcohol’s effect. He hopes his stammer isn’t noticeable, “I mean, this stuff’ll give ya a heck of a hangover.” He laughs falsely again, snapping his fingers.

Their couch immediately turns into a simple, cozy-looking, bed. Ford stares at it oddly.

Bill leaves Stanford’s shoulder but doesn’t let go of his hand. It gives him too much comfort.

“C’mon, kid. Let’s get you to bed.”

Without waiting for an answer, Bill physically pulls Ford toward the bed with impatience. Stanford stumbles at the sudden movement but follows anyway out of curiosity. He falls on the sheets, Bill falls after him.

It’s unsurprisingly comfortable. Ford had been low on energy, but hadn’t realized how tired he had truly been until now. Not bothering to take anything off, he sprawls out over the blanket.

Bill, meanwhile, lightly kicks his feet off the edge of the bed, sitting near Ford’s stomach. His feet don’t even reach the bottom. Bill stares at them swinging with attention and an oddly childish look in his eye. He giggles quietly before noticing that Stanford has already lain down.

Bill moves to hold Ford’s hand again and crawls closer to quietly lay next to him. Ford’s coat is made of fabric that Bill just found out is really comfortable. He snuggles closer to his side, making sure that the human’s sleep in the Mindscape won’t take him back to the waking world before Bill wants him to. He’ll let Fordsy wake up when he’s sober again. That sounded much better.

Ford doesn’t let go of Bill’s tiny hand - maybe he’s too tired to notice. Bill sighs quietly and flutters his eye closed.

In one movement, the karaoke in the Mindscape starts playing a slow lullaby on low volume and the blankets suddenly cover both Ford and Bill comfortably.

Bill turns his eye into a mouth and shoves his thumb inside, sucking on it soothingly. He squeezes a sleeping Ford’s finger tighter as he himself dozes off.

[holmsister]

The labru chess meme but like serious: why Kabru bets on Laios and wins

If you're like me (mentally ill (I can say that I'm diagnosed) about labru) you have seen several variations on this meme:

With Kabru and Laios. (To see a small collection of them, please click on the "labru chess meme" tag on this post). Would you like me to hyperanalyse this aspect of their dynamic to death and not even in a shippy manner, therefore sucking all of the fun out of the meme? Keep reading!

Spoilers for the whole manga ahead. Contains also a quantity of Winged Lion.

First of all: as noted several times, it's not that Laios is eating the pieces to win at chess, it's that he's hungry, chess pieces are available, and he thinks Kabru is a fellow chess piece eater as well. Because he offered him a chess piece. And kabru ate it. While still trying to play chess because he thinks Laios is playing chess in some novel way he wants to understand better. If you think I'm beating this metaphor to death now you haven't seen anything yet.

The thing is. Kabru's whole thing is about finding someone who can defeat the dungeon, whatever shape that takes. And Kabru knows he cannot do it. He lacks what it takes, again, whatever exactly that is. And at some point, he makes the call that Laios has that something.

What's that something? Well. He's eating the chess pieces.

In another post I have already talked about the parallels between Kabru and the Winged Lion. Without going into it again: I think that all things aside, those two have very similar types of intelligence. They're fascinated by people and finding out what motivates them. They can be manipulative and even cruel in the quest for what they believe to be the "good ending". And they both think their end can be achieved through Laios.

See, *those two* are playing chess. Have you ever played? It's a very ancient and noble game, you know, very storied.

Two opponents, Black and White, take turns moving pieces on a checkerboard according to rules that depend on the piece itself (Towers move only horizontally but of as many squares as they please, Pawns only of one square at a time and only move towards the opposite side of the board, Bishops move only diagonally, etc etc). Players can only move one piece per turn, once per turn. Two pieces cannot be in one square. When a player moves a piece in a square that is already taken by a piece of the opposing colour, the piece that was there already is "captured" and removed from the board. The rules are actually much more complicated but this is the barest bones.

I hear sometimes the win condition in chess being described as "capturing the King". That's not entirely it. The win condition in chess is putting the opposing King piece in checkmate, that is, in a position in which the King will be captured by the opposing player by the next turn no matter what moves either of them makes.

Chess matches between masters are notorious for being impossibly long. Some last YEARS. Not only that, it's possible to draw in chess - when none of the pieces on the board have legal moves left but nobody is in check. This condition is called a stalemate.

Since the pieces can move in limited ways, mathematically, it's possible to calculate a most efficient way to move them. In 1997, the AI (real AI, not the stuff that passes for AI nowadays) Deep Blue beat then chess world champion Garry Kasparov for the first time in what is considered a milestone achievement.

It's a complicated game with very set rules and almost infinite yet calculable possibilities, is what I'm getting at. It's why it's a favourite mental exercise for mathematicians and people with similar minds. It's a problem to solve in a certain number of steps according to certain rules. There's a solidity in chess reasoning - even when you're trying to guess your opponent strategy, you still know there are things they are NOT going to do. Like eating the pieces. That's why the meme is funny. I think. I've lost sight of what normal people find funny years ago.

This is the game Kabru and the Winged Lion are both in. They are both positioned to move in checkmate (conquering the dungeon/escaping the dungeon), but they have both reached a point in which they cannot move further on their own power. They're in stalemate and they know it. They both need Laios to move them out of the stalemate.

The difference is what they choose to do.

The Winged Lion treats Laios as another check piece. An important one for sure (the Queen, even. That's a chess joke AND a gay joke). But a piece he can manipulate, that moves around in predictable ways.

Kabru, however, has spent enough time chewing on chess pieces to realise thats not where Laios' potential really lies. What he does is step aside and leave the board to Laios. He says "OK, dude. Eat the damn pieces if you must. I trust you know what you're doing."

You see. There's no rule in chess about eating the pieces. I think. Maybe they added one. But still. Most people when teaching someone to play chess would not think to add "and don't eat the pieces!" There at the end because they will assume that goes without saying. It's an unspoken rule that when you are playing a game involving pieces on a board, the pieces are not for eating.

Laios, our beloved autism knight, needs his rules spoken. Otherwise he's just gonna do whatever comes to mind. And that's what he has that Kabru lacks, and what leads him to outsmarting the Winged Lion. Because he does not think in terms of rules and limits. He does not try to guess what's the catch. He does not go after the King.

When Laios figures out what the primary motivation of the Winged Lion is (wanting to eat wishes), he does not wonder about his wider plan. He stops and thinks. That makes human wishes sound so tasty, he thinks, that a creature so powerful can give up on its life of perfect bliss and immortality on another dimension to taste them. I wonder if I could eat them too. I wonder if I could eat away the Lion's desire to eat desires - I could kill two birds with one stone!

He doesn't know or care what the aim of the game is according to the rules. *His* aim now is to eat the Winged Lion's desire. Because it would solve things, because he wants to know how it tastes like, who knows, who cares. The point is: what's the fastest way to get at his aim?

Well. The Lion promises to turn him into his ideal monster... the same one he wrote about in his book. Maybe he can add a line about the monster being able to eat desires. That would work, right?

It's such a stupidly simple plan that almost has no right to work. Neither Kabru nor the WL think about it. Because of a variety of reasons, but most importantly, because *that's not in the rules*. The rules are: Laios makes a wish, the WL realises that wish, in exchange he gets Laios' body. Laios' wish: to be turned into his ultimate monster that he wrote about in his book. It goes without saying that he can't just go ahead and add whatever to the book description. Right?

Kabru would not have thought to add a line in the book in a MILLION years. The WL does not think to check if Laios added any strange condition. It's like using one wish of the genie to wish for infinite wishes - I mean yeah nobody SAID you couldnt do that but it's obvious right? It's basically cheating... Who does that? ...what's this? Laios, what are you eating? Spit the King out!

Ps: in Italian, the word for "capture" on a chessboard and the word for "eating" are one and the same.

[stxrslisten]

a study.

BASICS.

full name : seraphina draven nee galathenea

name meaning : fiery, burning, burning ones

nicknames : sera, phina

epithets : the evenstar

titles : highlady of the night court

gender / pronouns : cis woman / she/her

sexuality : heterosexual

date of birth : on the thirteen day of the first month

age : twenty-nine going on two hundred and ninety

zodiac : capricorn

place of birth : the dawn court, prythian

species : high fae, daemati

languages : common tongue, holy tongue

allegiance : the dawn court, the night court

APPEARANCE.

faceclaim : synnove karlsen

height : 5′5″

eye color : pale green/grey

hair color : brunette with copper undertones

dominant hand : ambidextrous

bargain tattoos : sworn protector bargain; intricate swirls of deep black ink that cover her hand like a glove all the way pass her elbow on her right hand, in between lines there is stars and flower like shapes. keeping a secret bargain: the swirls continue up to her shoulder were it seems the intricate lines turn into ribbons and stems of flowers that follow down the side of her torso and back a large eight pointed star is surrounded by a circle symbolizing the moon.

MAGIC.

abilities : daemati, immortality, winnowing, heightened senses, healing, dream manipulation

weaknesses : vulnerable to certain magic attacks, individuals with higher level of magic, burn out

PERSONALITY.

positive traits : eloquent & resourceful

negative traits : opinionated & judgemental

hobbies : reading, healing, stargazing, reading, archery

charcater inspiration : elain archeron, jeyne westerling, arwen undomiel, persephone goddess of the underworld, seraphena mierel, claire fraser

RELATIONSHIPS.

parents : former high lord caelestis galathenea & lady solara galathenea of the dawn court

siblings : high lord saint galathenea, persephone galathenea & utp galathenea

extended family : the draven high family

spouse : ezriah draven

children : azrael draven

BIO.

seraphina is pressumed to be the second born daughter of her father, her mother's first daughter, a precious chubby cheeked cherub of healthy lungs and curious eyes. born out of duty, a piece in her father chess board of power, you're a pretty face that is meant to be mold into perfection, graceful, intelligent and above all obedient.

a wondering child of hungry mind, she is incapable of remaining still as soon as she gathers coordination, laughter adorns her presence and as soon as she utters her first words she is trusted into her studies, training. the best tutors the dawn court can offer, the same as her siblings. her father is over the moon, sera was born to please. the little girl is talented and by nature wishes to learn more, absorb more. she is easily bored, attention easily lost if her interest is not longer focused.

in her maturing years she becomes more rebellious, when the lessons no longer offer her anything new and interesting, she finishes fast, getting lost in the villages near the palace. she practices healing abilities of both high a low fae, her father often lectures her, but her growing abilities cannot be questioned, the healer of the family he whispers, her hands are saving graces, it is not her talent alone, but her passion for it. sera enjoys helping others, her people, anyone who needs it, perhaps that's where the secret was.

her dream manipulation comes many years latter, after her father has given up on the possibility, she is an excellent healer and therefor he cares little for the skill, but when it comes his chest swells with pride. sera was a price he would give to the best allie and the best allie alone, but she does not see that in his smile full of pride. no she only wants to see an adoring father and not to the calculating man behind it.

sera's daemati abilities come on gradually, she thinks she's imagining things, that her dreamer abilities are manifesting while being awake. however the years pass and she cannot longer ignore them. she shakes, her father will use her as a weapon if he is to find out, she has always been a dutiful daughter, but she is a healer not a weapon. it was why she had trampled her own training in dream manipulation, she did not wish to hurt other, not even in the name of her family. and for many years she can keep it from manifesting, she does not train it and pretends is not there at the reach of her mind. until the day her father first mentions marrying her off, sera knows the day would come, and yet it still stings nonetheless and she fights back. her fathers words and actions break her and ignite her all the same, she loses control and ends up manifesting the daemati abilities by overtaking her fathers mind for a lingering moment. the silence behind the surprise is louder than anything else she has ever heard.

it is this that changes sera from the dutiful daughter, to the rebel daughter, she cannot please her father, she won't hurt others. he pressures her into learning the ability, she would become his weapon even if he was to break her first. and he nearly does, until she realizes learning it, mastering it, means she can protect herself even more. and so she does, but she focus on her shields, they become heavy stone. the relationship between father and daughter breaks without repair, and as punishment he betroths her to the furthers corner of the continent. the night court would be her punishment.

the time goes by, days, months and years and the bargain is not called. when the former high lord passes she almost hopes his son will call it off, and when more years go by without word of it, she thinks she shall never be called to marry him. and yet, when the letter comes she cannot believe her eyes. gentle, soft, and a healer never a warrior, sera is afraid she will not survive in the mystery that hides behind the night court and its people. she goes and marries the high lord, but the darkness in his eyes makes her recoil, the coldness in his words makes her run away constantly.

sera spends most the first 20 years of their marriage constantly evading the night court, with one good excuse or the next, she spent as much time still in the dawn court, sometimes even the summer court, after desperation strikes her and she reaches out to an old friend.

it is on one of the times her older sibling drags her back to where she belongs, a night where she seats on the floor by the window. she is uncertain why he comes to her, or why they speak, as if the amount of years between the two had never passed them by. as if they were seeing each other for the first time. something changes, neither can put their finger on it, and somehow they begin to gravitate towards each other, finally getting to know what the other is like. sera no longer leaves the night court, not to run away anyways, her trips are shorter and far in between, she can be seen with her husband more often than not. and the heart begins to change, she is uncertain when it happened, or how, but she knows her feelings for the high lord are stronger than she ever imagined them to be.

II. EXTRAS & OTHER THINGS

sera was very distant of the night court and its people at first, just as she was from her husband, but after things changed between them, it also changed her demeanor towards the court. she began to volunteer in the healers quadrant, helping people were they needed her. taking her role as a high lady far more seriously, and while the people are still uncertain of her, they are giving her the chance to prove herself.

sera refuses to use her daemati abilities, she has only used it accidentally on her father once, and the rest was only while mastering the skill and practicing with others. she is not sure she could even break anyone, since she's never tried, but her shields are impenetrable, it is the one thing she focus on.

CONNECTIONS.

first love; someone who she fell for when she was young, naïve and idealistic.

broken betrothal; someone her father betrothed her to before, but she made everything to break it

friends

pen pals

allies

enemies

[felixcloud6288]

Fullmetal Alchemist Chapter 63

End of one arc. Start of a new.

Xiao Mei is farting in Ed's drawing of her.

That cut Ed got from the younger Slicer brother, which has continuously reopened in every fight, is now a scar on Ed's head.

We see some cenz coins. Looks like one side is a multi-pointed star and the other side is a wreath crown with a king's crown in the center

It's resonable to assume these coins are 100 cenz coins since Ed didn't have to pull too many out to reach the amount Roy was asking.

In chapter 56, Ed placed 5 coins on top of the phone booth and those coins appear to be the same size and shape so they likely were the same value coins. So if Ed mugged borrowed 520 cenz from Roy and he had 5 coins on the phone booth, then the cost of a public phone is probably 20 cenz.

How long has Foo been away? Ed spent the next day in Resembool. The next day, he dug up the body then got to Central that evening. The next day, he and Al began Heist 3. After it's success, they spent the whole night and the next day dealing with the Homunculi. Ed returned Hawkeye's gun that same night and the next day, Ed and Al began searching for May.

Meanwhile, Roy implied Ed and Al spent several days baiting Scar and they've been searching fro May for several days as well. So I guess Foo has been gone maybe 2 weeks at most.

This is the first time we learn Lan fan is Foo's granddaughter.

Lan Fan and Foo's departure and Dr. Knox meeting his family make this part truly feel like we are closing a major act in the story. There have been other arcs, but none of them ended like this. Those other arcs were shorter and Ed and Al were traveling. So the departures gave a sense that we might meet them again someday.

But this arc doesn't feel like that. Roy's crew were sent away. Lan Fan and Foo have to go into hiding. Lin Yao is now their enemy. It honestly feels like we are saying good bye expecting to never see these people again, even if they say they'll be back.

In a separate post, I once mentioned trying to figure out what direction Central HQ faces, and it was because I wanted to know where Greed was looking out. He's looking southward, but I wish he'd been looking East instead. Then we could have the little poetic part of Greed looking toward Xing.

There's no way Greed's just been sitting in that spot for several days. Maybe he likes to look out there at night.

How does it feel to exist, Greed? How does it feel to look out and see there's this vast world, Greed? Do you dread when the morning rises and you're forced to return underground, Greed? Do you hear that little voice amongst the sea of souls in you, Greed?

And the second half of this chapter is the start of a new arc. Kimblee is released from prison to help the Homunculi out. His and Envy's conversation implies he's been affiliated with them for some time now. He probably was working with them before Ishbal, hence why he was entrusted with a Philosopher's Stone.

At this point Lust is dead and Gluttony is out of commission. Sloth is away doing a job. Wrath is stuck in Central. Greed is likely being kept on a short leash after the last one went AWOL. So that would leave just Envy and Pride able to pursue Marcoh. Obviously, Pride would never deign to do such a menial task. Meanwhile, Envy's power is likely too valuable and their temperament too volatile to go on a long term mission like this.

Ency drove by the Lab 5 ruins when they told Kimblee his second stone was made from the researchers.

Roy is coming up with a new plan after everything he's learned. Before, he thought he was playing chess. His goal was to take down the enemy king. But now that an internal takeover is impossible, he's choosing to play a new game with a new deck and a new set of rules.

Roy thought his opponent was Bradley, but it turns out he's just a piece on the board. So Roy's new plan is to win not by checkmating his opponent's king, but rather by killing his opponent.

Roy mentioned how Reole fell to riots only after Central got involved. Years ago, he questioned why the military went to such trouble to exterminate the Ishbalans. The dots are literally being connected.

back

[just-an-enby-lemon]

hello it's rewrite anon here, i am sorry to hear you weren't feeling well and i hope it's getting better

i don't have much time atm and i will try to send the last two scenes later but for now i wanted to tell you that i am happy you enjoyed the asks as they were also fun for me to write and read your replies for. what you said about how Bruce should have flaws but that this shouldn't mean he should just be a violent heartless asshole is so true! and what you said about the father having seemed like he would be the key to the case but then it turns out he isn't of any help, too. he seems the type who would act all important but actually just be full of hot air, and the kind of father who doesn't know anything about his child at all because he never bothered to get to know him outside of his orders and preconceived notions of what his son should be like. the kind of guy that does not really care about people at all, just about of what benefit they could be to him. the kind of person that would say he wishes he would have just left his kid with the mother even if she could not financially support two people and they might have ended up homeless because 'at least then it would not have been his problem' . awful.

it will take some time until i can send the last part of the rewrite so to tide that over i am curious (if you want to answer): how would you do a scene of Bruce talking to the teacher if he hadn't been killed in the past?

Sorry. I actually was thinking on your question and it took time to actually have an answer.

Thank you, I'm better now. And I love our asks soo much.

The thing is I had never though about the teacher. So I actually had to think about it. I think that this encounter bugged me a bit because the point of the rewrite for me was about Edward trying to figure himself out and failing. He couldn't get it from his mother and he sure as hell couldn't get it from his fater. And he ended up without any real impact whatsoever again. But I think I got an idea. And honestly anything is better than the original so low stakes.

Bruce finds the teacher. He leaves alone in a cute house with letters of his old students together with pictures with his late wife and with his kids and grandkids. When he sees Bruce he looks dejected as if he had a had night of sleep. He offers Batman a tea. Bruce is like "so you knew I was coming?" and he goes "I wasn't sure but I imagined you would." And he starts saying that yesterday a young man had knocked in his door, he had introduced himself as an old studend and this types of visits weren't uncomon also of course he remembered the Tierney boy. The man sayed he had just recently discovered his adress and decided to pay a visit. And of course he let him in and they talked over tea and biscuits and the man got excited with his chess board and asked for a game, he says to Batman he remembered it vividly and even recalls making a light hearted joke about how the kid was not that into games years ago and how he smilled as if it was a huge compliment, and the played. The kid defeated him all times. He even sayed "I am the best at games" as if challenging the teacher to say he wasn't, instead he invited him to play cards. It was a fun afternoon until he asked how was life and the man looked thoughtfull and and said "not the best right now, I have this job I used to really like and it just makes no sense anymore and it isn't just the job I don't know who I am and that just makes everything feels so meaningless only shapes and colors in puzzle pieces that don't fit. I used to be good in making them fit, in finding the right connections but now the pieces are too broken to fit the spaces they belong too".

He says he felt he wasn't the best for this conversation. He wanted to help but they met a long time ago. So he asked if Edward had talked to his dad about it since they seemed really close when he was a student. And Edward looked at him in total shock and muttered "you really don't know, you never knew" and he didn't know if it was said in awe or despair. And he realized that Edward's dad might've died so he said he was sad and that losing a father is an horrible thing but he didn't took kind to that. He just got up and sayed he didn't knew why he thought coming here would help and stsrted going. He said he was moving from Gotham and still had lose ends to deal with. It did sound a bit like an excuse but before the teacher could say anything Edward was already bolting out of the room. Mere seconds later, Batman, his youngest daugther enters deslerated hugging him, she asks if he is fine and he is just soo confused and than she goes "Dad, I just saw the Riddler leaving your house and he murdered someone yesterday. Are you sure you are alright? No clues? No bombs? And she actually sleept here and she is living here for a while now because he refused to leave. "I had a murderer in my home and I had no idea about. But Batman that was the Tierney boy... he never showed hints of becaming a super criminal what... what went wrong? What did I didn't see?." And Batman wants to tell him but it isn't his story so he just says the man that this is for him to figure out. He also offers protection to the family via Wayne Enterprise adding that it wasn't necessary because if Riddler wanted him dead he already would be. And than we have Batman in a roof thinking what would Riddler see as loose ends?

[lucky-berry]

As someone with a passing intrest in chess, this hurts me. As someone who is on Palestinian people's side, this really makes it seem like Israel pulling as much bullshitting they can to win despite it being wrong on so many levels.

Like, you are putting your most vulnerable piece up front. That king is in such a vulnerable position that I don't think they understand why the king is the piece that decides the win or loss. They are basically saying that the 'king' on Israhell's side is easy picking even with the queen there. The king can only move one space in any direction but the queen can go anywhere and leave the king vulnerable at why time.

Also, there is no way you can even make an opening move for the game to start to begin with with this layout. The pawns make the opening move. They go straight two spaces or one for the opening move on both sides. But the white goes first no matter what, so the game can never start with this layout anyway and that bothers me.

This is an ugly layout is what I am saying.

Chess is a strategy game to keep the king alive and kill or trap the other sides king. By putting the king up front you have lost anyway even if the 'strongest' pieces are up front.

Think about it, (bear with me I don't know the English names of the pieces) the castles go straiggt, go straight to kill a pawn and get killed by another castle or move but make no progress fitting of a 'strong' piece. Horses go in an L-shape, can't go anywhere, shit choice for a first move and unfitting for a 'strong' piece again. Bishops move diagonally, same problem as castles. Queen moving means leaving the king vulnerable way too early and with little opening to come back, move to close to the king in an attempt to check will make the Bishop, queen, and king kill it quick and making you lose the second most valuable piece way too early. You can't even move a pawn to turn it into a queen either because they're stuck at the back and can't get promoted. Pawns are weak, but they can still kill with a good positioning and can get promoted to a 'stronger' piece if you let it move.

Just, why, this analogy sucks, the ability for this to be used in an actual game sucks. There is no strategy other than the suicide of your strongest early in the game, like way to early. Pawns are pawns, but they're useful when put in a good position. They're useless at the back of the board because they're more useless then when another piece is in front of them.

Sorry

I got way too into it there.

Zionists are horrible at propaganda.

And are also bad at chess. Damn, who knew someone could be both?

[boardgameparadisesblog]

Which board game is played by only two people?

While many board games are designed for groups, there’s a special category that��s perfect for pairs: two-player board games. These games are intentionally crafted to create an engaging experience with just two participants, often emphasizing strategy, competition, and depth. Whether you're looking for a quick game to play with a friend or an intense match with a loved one, two-player board games offer a fun and interactive way to spend quality time together. Here are some of the most popular board games designed specifically for two players.

Chess Genre: Strategy Playing Time: 10-60 minutes (depending on skill level)

Chess is one of the oldest and most revered two-player board games in history. With origins dating back over a thousand years, this game has been played and mastered by countless generations. It requires critical thinking, patience, and foresight. Players take turns moving their pieces with the goal of capturing the opponent's king. Chess has universal appeal, offering endless strategic possibilities and layers of complexity, making it an enduring classic for any two-player session.

Go Genre: Abstract Strategy Playing Time: 30-90 minutes

Go is another ancient game with deep cultural roots, particularly in East Asia. Played on a board with a grid of intersecting lines, players take turns placing black or white stones in an attempt to control territory on the board. Despite simple rules, Go is incredibly challenging and is known for its depth. It’s a game of patience, strategy, and subtlety, requiring players to think ahead and manage their territory wisely. Like chess, Go has stood the test of time as one of the most challenging two-player games in the world.

Jaipur Genre: Card Game / Set Collection Playing Time: 30 minutes

Jaipur is a vibrant, fast-paced game that captures the competitive spirit of trading. Set in the bustling marketplaces of Jaipur, India, players assume the roles of merchants vying to become the Maharaja’s personal trader. The objective is to collect and exchange goods to earn the most points through trade and camels. Jaipur combines strategy and luck, with each turn offering different paths to victory. It's easy to learn but offers enough depth to keep players coming back for rematches.

Patchwork Genre: Tile Placement / Puzzle Playing Time: 20-30 minutes

In Patchwork, players take on the role of quilters, crafting the perfect quilt by collecting and arranging patches on their boards. Each patch has a cost and a unique shape, challenging players to manage resources while strategically placing pieces to complete their quilt and earn points. Patchwork is a gentle yet strategic game that’s great for all ages. The game’s simplicity makes it accessible, but the puzzle-like elements keep it engaging for seasoned players.

7 Wonders Duel Genre: Civilization / Strategy Playing Time: 30 minutes

7 Wonders Duel is the two-player adaptation of the popular 7 Wonders game. Set in ancient civilizations, players compete to build a civilization that outshines their opponent’s through military, science, or cultural achievements. The game introduces unique mechanics, like drafting cards and managing resources, that keep gameplay balanced and strategic. With multiple ways to win, 7 Wonders Duel challenges players to adapt their strategies and react to their opponent’s moves, making it a rewarding experience every time.

Lost Cities Genre: Card Game / Exploration Playing Time: 30 minutes

Lost Cities is a simple but engaging card game where players embark on expeditions to discover ancient civilizations. Using numbered cards, they try to build high-scoring expeditions, balancing the risks and rewards of each journey. The game’s mechanics are straightforward, making it an easy game to pick up, but the decision-making and strategy involved keep it interesting. Lost Cities is a perfect choice for players who enjoy a blend of luck and tactics.

Star Realms Genre: Deck-Building Playing Time: 20 minutes

Star Realms is a quick, competitive deck-building game set in space. Players build up their fleets and bases, gaining powerful ships and combat abilities to weaken their opponent’s defenses. The game has an accessible learning curve but offers enough variety and strategy to keep players hooked. Star Realms also has expansion packs that introduce new ships and strategies, providing endless replayability. If you’re a fan of sci-fi and deck-building games, Star Realms is an excellent pick.

Hive Genre: Abstract Strategy Playing Time: 20 minutes

Hive is an insect-themed game of tactical maneuvering where players control an assortment of “bugs,” each with unique movements, in an attempt to surround their opponent's queen bee. The game requires strategic placement and clever moves, offering a rich experience despite its simple components. Hive is portable (it doesn’t require a board), making it perfect for playing on the go. With no setup time and quick gameplay, Hive is ideal for fans of chess and abstract strategy games.

Watergate Genre: Historical / Strategy Playing Time: 30-60 minutes

In Watergate, one player takes the role of a journalist seeking to expose the Watergate scandal, while the other player assumes the role of the Nixon administration trying to cover it up. This historical two-player game uses a unique combination of strategy, card play, and historical themes. The gameplay is tense, with both players making tough decisions to either uncover or suppress information. Watergate is an intense game that’s as engaging as it is educational.

Fox in the Forest Genre: Trick-Taking Card Game Playing Time: 30 minutes

Fox in the Forest is a beautiful and simple trick-taking card game with a fairytale theme. Unlike traditional trick-taking games, this one is designed specifically for two players. Players try to win tricks to score points, but with a unique twist—the game introduces special abilities on certain cards that affect the flow of the game. It’s a refreshing take on the genre, with enough depth to keep players engaged without being overly complicated.

Why Two-Player Games Are Worth Trying Two-player board games are designed to bring out the best in head-to-head competition, often resulting in a rich and immersive experience. Unlike games that accommodate larger groups, two-player games tend to be more focused, with each move carrying significant weight. This dynamic creates a level of intensity and engagement that’s hard to achieve in multiplayer settings.

Playing a two-player game can also be a great way to strengthen bonds with a friend or partner, providing an opportunity to collaborate, compete, and connect in a shared activity. Whether you’re looking for something relaxing or a competitive showdown, there’s a two-player game out there to match your mood.

From classic games like Chess and Go to modern favorites like 7 Wonders Duel and Patchwork, there’s a diverse array of two-player board games to explore. These games offer a variety of themes and mechanics, ensuring that there’s something for everyone, regardless of your interests. So, the next time you’re looking for something fun to do with a friend or partner, consider trying out one of these two-player board games. You may discover a new favorite pastime!

[poeblissorton]

Chess

I have never understood how to play chess so it wasn’t something I was interested in growing up. I did wish I knew how to play it because I enjoy strategy games but there are too many rules that I don't understand. My experience with it mainly comes to watching other people play and having no idea what they're doing. A part of chess I don't like is that there are hundreds of different strategies, and then there are also hundreds of counters to those strategies, it's hard to decide the best way to play. I would like to understand it but it's not a game I can see myself enjoying much.

I most likely won't base my game on chess, as I don't believe I would have the time to create all of the different designs for the pieces as well as the board design. I also don't think it fits much with my concept as chess seems more confined.

Harry Potter and Wizarding Chess

Star Wars Dejarik

Indian Chturanga

Different makers putting their own spin on chess is a good way of gaining interest into your media. Chess is an extremely popular game, so incorporating your media into it can expand the viewership. It also makes for a simple way to create a board game in the media as a plot point. This makes the game an even easier sell, as selling a game that was included in the show would make players want to buy it so they can experience themselves and feel more connected to the world. Especially with a series as big as Harry Potter, I can see this working well. Bringing new characters to an older format is interesting as it shows how makers use their creativity to interpret the older material in their own way, leading to really intriguing results. Chess in itself isn't a very complicated game, but has very specific rules. This can be played on to create new rules that are unique to the subject. Furthermore, the characters on the chess board can be changed into anything at all as long as they operate the same as the original, which leads to very unique sets with the game still operating the same way.

Additionally, the original board design is simple, it's just a square with a checker pattern. Therefore it can be easily changed but still recognised as chess.

If I were to market my own chess game, I would try to create something unique and use the original chess as a starting point and incorporate my idea into it to alter the gameplay rules. For example maybe adding a new character that changes the game, changing the shape or size of the board, and changing the theme by redesigning the character pieces. This would overall create a game unique to the subject, but still be recognisable as chess.

Dungeons and Dragons

https://www.nytimes.com/2016/04/18/us/when-dungeons-dragons-set-off-a-moral-panic.html

The ‘moral panic’ caused by D and D during the 1980s and showcased in Stranger Things and Eddie Munson’s Hellfire Club and the Tom Hanks film from 1982 called Mazes and Monsters directed by Steven Hilliard Hern

Locke and Key comics and TV, keys and Lovecraft - how does the Board game work?

https://boardgamegeek.com/boardgame/110868/locke-key-game - is this an easy sell? Who would buy it? Locke and Key followers of the comic book or the TV series - gimmick.

Guess Who?

The gameplay of Guess Who? is that two players have to guess which of the characters the other player has chosen.

Each player picks a character from the pack of cards. They place that card upright in front of them as seen on the photo. They then flip up all of the other character’s faces on the board. Every turn, the player asks one question to try and guess what person the other player has. For example they could ask, ‘Does your character have long hair?’ and if the other player says no, they flip down every character who has long hair. The game is a process of elimination, eventually only one character’s face will be left up. If the player’s guess is correct, they win. If the player’s guess is wrong, they can keep playing until one of them guesses it.

Gender Inequality & Ethnic Bias

Even if the addition of different ethnicities wasn’t for the purpose of diversity, not having different diversities in a game about guessing people by their features is a bit silly. If they wanted the game to actually be difficult they should have added more diversity in the first version. There are only so many differences between people all of the same race. But not having characters of different races gives no representation to ethnic minorities, which is a very worrying fact for a game created only a short time ago. In my opinion it's very odd that they didn’t. Since this game is marketed towards children, giving children a game to play which only features white people must have been quite damaging to children of colour playing. Seeing an entire board of people who are only white, wondering why none of them looked like them. It probably felt upsetting to children and even adult players.

I believe a maker should be aware of political correctness and the way they go about representing people in their media. This is obviously dependent on the type of media they want to create.

But in my opinion, when it comes to character designing, I think its a bit silly to create a media about human characters but only include one race. Or when a video game claims to have many different diverse and unique regions, but all of the inhabitants look the same. Even aside from the issue of representation, having a cast that are all the same can in some situations make it less strong, but there comes an obvious time such as with Guess Who? where issues are obvious and it’s clearly something to do with oppression and not just character design.

Looking at the current market of media for children, this issue of a lack of diversity has clearly been improved upon which is really good to see, and in the current versions of Guess Who? the cast of characters is much more diverse and representative of ethnic minorities.

Although I still do believe this is somewhat of an issue today even in media for children. In remakes of older cartoons, characters of colour will have their skin lightened. Or features that show they are clearly a person of colour have been watered down, such as hair becoming straight.

[ebelal56-blog]

Warning: Geopolitical Shifts from Look East Strategy

You know, it’s interesting how geopolitics can sometimes feel like a game of chess, with countries moving their pieces around the board, trying to outsmart one another. But if we zoom in a bit, we see that it’s not just about the big players; it’s also about the local dynamics that shape these moves. Take India and Bangladesh, for instance. Recently, we’ve seen a shift in the political landscape in Bangladesh that has left many people speculating about what it means for India and its relationship with China. But here’s the kicker: just because India might be losing some ground in Bangladesh doesn’t automatically mean that China is winning. Let’s break this down. Bangladesh has been navigating a complex relationship with both India and China for years. Historically, India has been seen as a friend, a partner in development, and a supporter of Bangladesh’s independence. However, as Bangladesh has grown economically and politically, it’s started to assert its own identity and interests. The recent elections brought a wave of change, and with that change comes a reevaluation of alliances. It’s not just a simple matter of choosing one side over the other; it’s about what’s best for Bangladesh. Now, many analysts are quick to point fingers and say, “Look, India is losing influence, and China is stepping in!” But that’s a bit of a simplistic view, don’t you think? For one, Bangladesh is not a pawn in this game. It’s a nation with its own aspirations, goals, and a desire for sovereignty. The Bangladeshi leadership is smart. They know they have options, and they’re not afraid to explore them. They’ve been engaging with China, yes, but that doesn’t mean they’re turning their backs on India completely.

[kiranapassionategamer]

A Comprehensive Guide to the Most Popular Board Games in India

For millennia, board games have been an essential aspect of Indian culture, providing benefits beyond just amusement. India has made a significant and varied contribution to this industry, from classic games enjoyed by royalty to contemporary strategy games played worldwide. This thorough guide examines popular board games in India, including all the must-play games—classics, contemporary favourites, and new releases, and the many advantages of playing these strategic, entertaining games.

1. Traditional Indian Board Games

Ludo (Pachisi): Originating from the Pachisi game, Ludo is an ancient game that dates back to the sixth century. Ludo, a game that belongs to the monopoly game type and was first played on a cross-shaped board with tiny pawns and dice, has undergone numerous modifications and adaptations, including digital versions. Squares, tokens, dice, dice, start, and finish are all part of the game's rules, but despite their simplicity, the strategy is sound enough to keep players of all ages interested. However, for the sake of die-heart fans, these days you play Ludo with real money India online and win real cash.

Snakes and Ladders: Originally called Moksha Patam, Snakes and Ladders was created in ancient India to teach people moral principles and appropriate behaviour. The snakes stand for vices, whereas the ladders are designated as virtues. The game uses the tried-and-true dice-rolling mechanic to entertain players while imparting moral values to younger players.

Carrom: Carrom is an indoor game played on a 66x66 cm wooden board with rounded corners and holes in each quadrant. It is comparable to table tennis and table football. Having a striker used to shoot discs into these pockets is the goal. It requires intricate planning and strong and targeted striking patterns and is a mainstay of practice in both informal and competitive forms.

Chess (Chaturanga): This strategic game, which originated in India as the original Chaturanga and evolved into chess, is revolutionizing international competitive sports. In this game, two players take turns managing an army of pieces with the goal of "checkmating" the other player's monarch. World-class chess players that compete in all the major international chess competitions are still being produced in India.

Ashtapada: It is an ancient board game that is less well-known yet significant because it uses the same 8 by 8 box playing board as Chaturanga. However, the game that relies on mobility rather than capture is incredibly profound and basic, providing insight into the Indian board game market. 

2. Modern Popular Board Games in India

Scrabble: This word-building game is viral due to its content, gameplay, and the value of the presented vocabulary. In the game board, there are letters, and players have to make words to gain a point, making it an informative game that also exercises the brain's language.

Monopoly: Controlling and never hesitating to be aggressive in real estate and business strategy, Monopoly has different editions related to other Indian cultures and cities. It is still popular because of the high level of bargaining, trade and financial simulation involved in the game.

Ticket to Ride: A bit newer, this is a game in which players pick train cards to create train routes on a continent represented on the playing board. Thanks to simple-to-learn rules and complex strategies, Ticket to Ride is gaining popularity among Indians, especially families that enjoy this game.

Catan: In Catan, players gather cards to throw resources off the island to build roads, settlements, and cities. This game is best known for being a large-scale resource management game with negotiation components, which are a huge plus to players who like making a lot of pre-preparations.

Pandemic: The pandemic, which has found a sad relevance in the recent period, is a cooperating game where players struggle to treat diseases around the globe, accumulating resources for curing them. Due to this characteristic of forming cooperative work, it is especially popular in India as a way to develop teamwork and a problem-solving orientation.

3. Emerging Trends in Indian Board Gaming

The Indian board gaming scene is experiencing a renaissance with the rise of board game cafes and community gatherings, which provide a venue for enthusiasts to meet and engage over their favorite games. Digital versions and online platforms have also made it easier to learn and play, broadening access to these games. Moreover, there's an increasing interest in games that require strategic thinking and cooperative play, reflecting a shift towards more intellectually engaging entertainment forms.

4. Benefits of Playing Board Games

Playing board games offers numerous cognitive benefits, such as improved problem-solving skills, enhanced memory, and better concentration. They also offer significant social and emotional advantages; they foster communication and patience, reduce stress, and can improve mental health. Furthermore, board games are an excellent tool for family bonding, as they bring people together in a cooperative or competitive framework to share meaningful interaction away from screens.

Conclusion

India has a wide and varied selection of board games. Board games in India have something for everyone, from classic ludo real cash games that impart moral values to contemporary strategy games that test mental faculties. The fundamental qualities of board gaming—bringing people together and offering rewarding experiences—remain constant as this culture changes, carrying on a long-standing custom.

[thedavesnews]

4D

If life is a board game shelf this is the chess year right? All the pieces are laid out and it's time to make some moves. So many years have just been a trading of pawns that the few pieces left have to lead to a checkmate right? H.G Wells says Chess is a curse on man so what do I know.

40 is a reflection year because it's a milestone that seems like it makes or breaks people. I'm not sure if I want this to be half or over halfway. Don't take this the wrong way but those final years just seem awful. I'm sure I will look at them and hope I keep getting one more day when 80 comes. When you're young 40 looks old. When you're 40 you wonder how you even got here. Hopefully the stupidity of youthful decisions are haunting. My only regret at this point in life is the fast food. That was a mistake. Every other decision I made led me to this moment and for that I couldn't be more thankful. I'm happy and I'm loved. That's a pretty amazing gift.

So do I write a retrospective, introspective or futurespective (I made up a word)? For the past couple of weeks I thought about what should go here. Maybe we talk about the plans that can fill the next 40 years. This will assume I do not win the lottery, obviously I will but for the sake of this discussion we leave that out.

First, we can start with the obvious. Sometime this summer I begin training for the Dopey. Dave is doing a marathon after turning 40. Got to start somewhere right? My feed is flooding me with 2 big topics since I signed up (thanks Facebook) are marathon registrations and Paris. If my training goes well and things stay in line I might sign up for a marathon in Europe (probably Paris). It's a major long shot but combining those things you love can really bring out the best in yourself.

Honestly, the biggest shock for me in 40 years is my love of France, specifically Paris. I would have never predicted that. I focused so much time and energy into Spanish and that culture, hell mi cumpleaños es CINCO DE MAYO. Learning French has been difficult and from what I've read others who speak English and Spanish have the same issues. Spanish speaks all the letters which isn't the case for a lot of French words. But the language is self is very pretty. The city of Paris is very enchanting. If I ever have the opportunity to live there I'm taking it. After 40 years, it's time to explore!

I've recently starting letting AI help me with some thought processes and, while I know it's just a parrot of words at this point, it's still impressive just how much use it can give all of us. Wonder how AI would have written this? Here's an excerpt....

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Dave's Reflections: Embracing 40 and Beyond

So, here I am – on the brink of turning the big 4-0. It's a milestone that comes with its fair share of mixed emotions. As I countdown the days to this momentous occasion, I can't help but pause and reflect on the journey that has brought me here.

Turning 40 isn't just about adding another digit to my age; it's about taking stock of where I've been and where I'm headed. It's a time to look back on the highs and lows, the triumphs and challenges, and to celebrate the person I've become.

When I hit that milestone "purchase" button on life, I couldn't help but wonder – why have I done this to myself? But as I approach 40, I realize that every decision, every challenge, has led me to this point. It's a culmination of experiences that have shaped me, challenged me, and ultimately made me who I am today.

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I was impressed with the amount of information that it was willing to write for me based off my last 3 posts. The generic versions without my writing style applied just about being 40 were honestly a bit depressing and sterile.

AI can be super helpful...just don't let it write your blog.

-Dave

You're never too old to be young.

[virtual-board-game-room]

Backgammon - Golden Birds

Backgammon belongs to one of the oldest board game families in the world, the dice table games, and has its origins in human history over 5000 years ago.

Despite the almost overflowing abundance of new, complex, exciting and elaborate game developments, such timeless classics continue to enjoy unbroken popularity. Like chess, Go or Reversi, backgammon is played and enjoyed by many hundreds of thousands of people around the world in their leisure time or in competition.

Although the game is mainly played with dice, it is not a game of chance. The simple but ingenious basic rules create a tactical and mentally challenging brain game from the group of two-person zero-sum games with perfect information.

The aim of the game is to roll your own pieces out of your home field. You have to make clever moves to prevent your opponent from capturing individual pieces and thus gaining a lead in terms of turns and time. This is because captured pieces must first be rolled back into play before you can make a regular move.

Over the course of time, hundreds of variants have developed, each with their own local characteristics. Additional rules, modified starting positions and different victory conditions also invite young people in all countries of the world to enjoy the fascination of backgammon.

All variants, no matter what they are called and which country they come from, have the game board with the characteristic triangular squares in common, even if other shapes exist.

I created an elaborately decorated version for the VBR, which was inspired by an exhibit in the Dresden Residenzschloss (permanent exhibition of the armory: "World view and knowledge around 1600").

Wikipedia - Backgammon

I call my creation "Backgammon - Golden Birds" and it is intended to be reminiscent of the arts and crafts of the 16th to 18th centuries, even if I am not aiming for a historical reference to a specific era.

You can find great physical versions of this game at the following link.

Buy Backgammon as real life Version

You can purchase the virtual game in the VBR store or download it for free as a "Lords of the Board".

Backgammon - Golden Birds - VBR Shop