#well in this case requiem's haunted

[crystalsandbubbletea]

Lasky: Oh hey you guys are back early.

Berat, Azad, Chin-Sun, and Dae-Seong: Requiem's haunted.

Lasky: What?

Dae-Seong: *Grabs a rocket launcher* Requiem's haunted.

[everysongineverykey]

the bass riff that occurs right after the "i long for peace before i die" bit in mother love is a slower version of the one that features in the chorus of these are the days of our lives. 3837498 dead 2320203 injured

[basu-shokikita]

About Depths of Humanity

So, I talked about The Duel some time back and I thought, why not do the same for this song too? It's actually one of my underrated faves from Doomstar Requiem.

This more of a rant than a strict analysis though, I just really enjoy thinking about the implications of this song and what it means in regard to Skwisgaar.

Let's start with Ishnifus' warning. He claims that inside lies danger, the ghosts of their pasts and their fears. He cautions them to stay alert and Dethklok brave forward, even if scared.

Inside, they encounter their old manager, old groupies and Skwisgaar's old guitar teacher, in that order. As promised by Ishnifus', they're all people from their past, coming back to haunt them.

Immediately, these people start recriminating Dethklok for not having paid them back after how much they helped them. In short, they're jealous of Dethklok's fame and money.

The band is clearly affected by the plaints, quickly forgetting what they were here to do. Except Skwisgaar, who reminds them all they have to find clues about Toki's whereabouts. It does not seem like they're listening to him, though.

Now up to here, I want to point out 2 things:

That Nathan and Pickles seem the most upset by these confrontations.

That, while Skwisgaar is disturbed, he still has their goal in mind.

About Nathan and Pickles, I think it makes sense, they are the leaders of the band, they're most conscious of its tremendous success. They also know they're extremely talented musicians, meaning, they're aware of their value. They know they're far from being these miserable pricks demanding rewards. Nathan had a nurturing family while Pickles used to be in a huge band, previously to Dethklok. They're both people that have been inherently helped by other people, which is why being confronted is actually uncomfortable.

Skwisgaar is certainly a different case. I have to say, I was pretty surprised to find out that he had a guitar teacher. Based on the flashbacks in Fatherklok, I assumed he had been self taught. Skwisgaar himself has admitted he was pretty poor in his childhood so it's hard to believe Servetta would've invested in his music education. Plus, he can't read music which I think would be hardly the case if he had gotten classes.

But anyway, I'll play along. This teacher is speaking English and he doesn't make any mistakes so I'm guessing he's american. Meaning, Skwisgaar took classes when he went to America, which was later in his life. To strengthen his game and/or learn the technical bits he might have missed before? Maybe? And if this was the case, then Skwisgaar would've felt less obligated to indulge to other people in his life, when he learned to be independent from a really young age. He doesn't feel like he owes shit to other people, because other people didn't give him shit. Thus, the Depths of Humanity effect is not that strong in him.

You could also argue that the loss of Toki is a far more terrifying prospect than these bitter acquaintances from their past but I'll elaborate on that further in this post.

Murderface? Well, Murderface has low esteem and is the less popular member in the band, so of course he can't fall victim to guilt-tripping. Because that would mean acknowledging he feels like he's in a better place than others, it would mean that he actually believes himself superior than others. But he doesn't, Murderface is convinced he's worth nothing, so this whole charade is more grating than anything. Which brings us to the next moment.

The way Murderface is coaxed by the Depths of Humanity crew, is when a seemingly fan approaches him and starts praising him, claiming he's the best one. And then, is when Murderface is hypnotized by the attention. He's already such a negative person, of course more negativity isn't going to get to him. But positivism? That's another deal.

Skwisgaar once again insists that they have to find a clue on how to find Toki but it falls on deaf ears. Nathan is grabbing his head in despair while Pickles clutches his chest in what seems to be an impending panic attack.

Now I really like the wording 'I'll look if you do, too' from Skwisgaar. It almost feels like, even in this situation, he's trying to sound cool about it. He doesn't want to be the only one caring this much about Toki, he doesn't want to be the one leading this operation. He's not a leader, he's never been a leader, even less when it comes to emotional stuff, which is the implicit purpose of this search. They care about Toki, and that's why they're looking for him. But is Skwisgaar seems to be unconsciously rejecting this fact. This attachment.

However, his bandmates aren't listening, too self-absorbed in their anguish to do so. Skwisgaar continues the search and is quick to point out at something on the wall. It's a flyer that he grabs and, immediately, seems to connect the dots about. In an unusual display of leadership, he tells Nathan to grab Murderface so they can leave. Their purpose has been fulfilled and they can finally escape this horrid place.

Okay, so this is my favorite bit, obviously. Once they're outside, Nathan and Pickles keep complaining about what they were just subjected to, and Skwisgaar stops them to show his discovery. It's the same flyer he just grabbed, and it features the place where Toki had his audition. Also known as the place where they all met Toki for the first time and Skwisgaar and him had the legendary duel.

We don't have a precise Dethklok timeline but it's been a long time since Toki joined the band. Several years, at the very least. And this building is nothing but a far away memory, from when they were a lesser band. From when they weren't the big rockstars they are now. So, it really begs to question that not only did Skwisgaar remember the place, but he did so at once, when he hadn't seen or heard of it in years.

...Unless, he had been thinking about it recently?

We know, thanks to the beautiful central section of the movie, that Toki had been thinking of his audition, of joining Dethklok, as a means to cope with the devastating reality he was faced with. We know reminiscing of his dazzling battle with Skwisgaar and the happiness he found within the band gave Toki strength to carry on. But what about Skwisgaar?

For someone who considered himself much better than other guitarists, to the point he didn't want to play with another one, to actually find an equal, someone that challenged him, it couldn't have been anything short of extraordinary for Skwisgaar.

The summit is for the very best only, yet it's quite lonely too, and Skwisgaar had been basking in that isolation his whole life. Until he played with Toki, then the idea of sharing his field no longer felt like an insult, but potential instead. He found someone that could improve his own playing, someone that could compliment his guitar, take it to even higher heights.

And so, Skwisgaar was the one to invite Toki to the band, more specifically, to tell him he wanted him in the band. While we can't factually know how the rest of the members joined Dethklok, we know for sure that Skwisgaar was the sole responsible for making Toki join, as the rest were already bidding him farewell for failing to keep up with Skwisgaar.

So, when the one person that challenged Skwisgaar's playing was taken away, it wouldn't be a stretch for Skwisgaar to look back on how it all happened. To ponder about the circumstances that lead them to the current situation. It's clear the whole band loves Toki and, unable to deal with their own sadness, drank and fucked to oblivion. This also applies to Skwisgaar, except that with him it's especially complex, given that he's the one that brought Toki to his world to begin with. Given that Toki and Skwisgaar share the same instrument. (Fun fact: you don't actually see Skwisgaar fiddling with his guitar in Doomstar Requiem, just puttings dat out theres.)

Obviously, this is a bunch of mumbo-jumbo but as any Pepe-Silvia-scene impersonator that respects themselves, I want to point out how interesting of a coincidence it is that, less than 2 songs later, Skwisgaar is saying this:

Right before they head in to rescue Toki and Abigail, Skwisgaar imparts some reflection of his. He's been wondering if maybe it wouldn't be better to go back to being a one-guitar band. Toki has been in Dethklok for a long time now, so it's interesting Skwisgaar has been thinking about this...

...Except, that's exactly what his mentality used to be like, before meeting Toki. Right when he was trying to convince Pickles that they didn't need a rhythm guitar, he spoke these words exactly. One-guitar band.

It's almost like Skwisgaar is trying to do some self-preservation by returning to his aloof roots. He made Toki join the band, now Toki's gone and in danger, and maybe this wouldn't have happened if they had stuck with Skwisgaar's original plan. Because they attempted to replace Magnus is why this came to be. The revenge Magnus promised did arrive.

I just wanna be clear. I don't think Skwisgaar believes he's the sole to responsible for this, I'm sure he knows Magnus is the main perpetrator here. But the facts remain the facts, and had they all stayed as they were, then they wouldn't be risking their lives now to save their fifth member.

Like this, it seems entirely logical that Skwisgaar would be thinking of his former reluctance, of the Duel, of everything. It's all fresh in his mind once again, because Toki's kidnapping has forced him to realize they're not actually untouchable. Their mortality is back on the table, and so are their bonds.

In short, Skwisgaar had been repressing all his emotions about Toki's disappearance, but from the Depths of Humanity onward, he can't help but show them. He can't help but admit to himself and others, that he wants Toki back. So much, that a bunch of angry and entitled people can't affect him enough to forget it. So much that it's making him remember how distant he used to be, before Toki. So much that it's making him realize how different he is now.

[murdermemes]

Requiem For A Clown Prompts

quotes taken from Legend of Avantris' DnD Campaign: Once Upon a Witchlight episode 2

“ What if we actually just sat here for 4 hours in total silence? ” “ No my name is ___, identity theft is not a joke! ” “ Perhaps you never left here, and this is the original and you were cloned and sent out to the world. ” “ You’re at peace and we’re very neutral. ” “ Oh no, it’s not that fancy, it’s like a low budget one ” “ I don’t know if this is an in-game joke or out of game one ” “ What’s gonna happen if I try to pass this off as mine? Is my head gonna turn into a bouquet of roses or something? ” “ Well give it back in case he bouquets my head or something ” “ A, first of all. A. A! ” “ He’s also actively bleeding ” “ Don’t bend it! I worked really hard on these. ” “ Do you think you get kicked out or turned inside out? ” “ You must declare your love for unicorns at every opportunity ” “ Fucking love unicorns—wait oh shit. Oh no. ” “ Maybe this is some sort of latent childhood memory that’s just flooding back all the sudden. ” “ Gentleman, I am going to get myself a seed ” “ Hey! You’re not supposed to tell, now it won’t come true! ” “ They don’t look like they were taken from a child named Jason. ” “ You go steal from some acquaintances, and we’ll fucking find out. ” “ I thought that you were talking about blood too, actually. Giggle blood perhaps. ” “ You know, I’ve done a lot of thinking about it and I gotta tell you, it’s to die for. ” “ You were about to kill a chi—I mean send a child to a farm? ” “ That makes you surprisingly more dangerous than I realize, as you say that ” “ How many origins can one person have? ” “ Until you punch a guy, you really never know what he’s going through ” “ You know, if I’d have known he would haunt me for all my days just cause I punched him in the body and killed him. I probably still would have done it. ” “ Frankly, not that grave of a transgression, if I’m gonna be honest ” “ What we gonna do? Just leave him/her/them in the grass? ” “ I mean corpses ain’t good for biz, right ___? ” “ Well, did you see how hard he/she/they hit his/her/their body? ” “ I actually didn’t see it, I heard it first ” “ Have you always been so symmetrical, by the way? ” “ I’d cut my hand slapping those cheeks ” “ Gods, you were strong then ” “ They never tell you that in the songs ” “ Gods, I wish there was wine in hell ” “ They got a fucking pole right through their bodies. That’s a horrible image ” “ I hope you didn’t skip leg day, motherfucker. Let’s go! ” “ Awh, you had me at custard! ” “ What is it with you and fucking with horses? Stop fucking with the horses ”

[soulsanitarium]

Exorcism, the ritual practice of driving out demons or malevolent spirits from individuals believed to be possessed, has been a part of religious and spiritual traditions throughout history, including the 21th century.

Few of the well-known cases from the 20th century are the exorcism of Anna Ecklund (there is a movie) and Anneliese Michel, a young German woman, in the 1970s. Although this case is more recent, it gained significant attention in media at its time and later became the basis for the horror film "The Exorcism of Emily Rose” and German drama film “Requiem”.

The specific understanding and role of possession in shamanic healing will depend on the particular cultural context and the spiritual traditions of the community practicing shamanism. The shaman, in their role as a spiritual practitioner, is called upon to address the possession and restore balance. There are a lot of films about vodoo, but also few from other cultures such as Italian “Il Demonio” (gif above), that is based on the anthropological research and for example Chinese “Zhong xie (中邪)”.

In Abrahamic religions, demonic possession is generally understood as the state in which an individual's body or mind is believed to be under the control or influence of a malevolent spiritual entity or demon. The concept of demonic possession is most explicitly mentioned in Christianity, but similar beliefs and practices can be found in Judaism and Islam as well, albeit with some variations.

Jewish traditions do acknowledge the existence of malevolent spirits or demons, known as "shedim" or "dybbuks." These entities are believed to be the souls of wicked individuals who did not find rest in the afterlife and instead haunt the living. There are few films about the topic, modern myth film “The Possession” (gif above) and more authentic “The Dybbuk” (gif below).

In Islam, demonic possession is attributed to malevolent beings known as "jinn." Jinn are supernatural entities created from smokeless fire and are said to exist in a parallel realm, interacting with humans but remaining generally unseen. There are more and more horror films about the jinn, such as “Dabbe: The Possession” (gif below).

From a psychiatric perspective, experiences that may be perceived as demonic possession in religious or cultural contexts are often understood as manifestations of psychological disorders or mental illness. Various conditions, such as dissociative disorders, schizophrenia, psychosis, or certain neurological disorders, can lead to altered perceptions, behaviors, or experiences that resemble possession.

Psychiatry views these phenomena as originating from within the individual's mind and brain rather than external spiritual forces. Traumatic events and unresolved psychological conflicts can contribute to the creation of internalized "parts" or "alters" within an individual's mind, which may appear as separate entities or personalities. Psychoanalytic and approaches also offer symbolic and metaphorical interpretations of possession-like experiences. They consider that the concept of possession can represent a symbolic expression of internal conflicts, repressed emotions, or unresolved psychological issues.

In my podcast video I will demonstrate how in the case of the Anneliese Michel these omnipotent defence fantasies were present - in both sides. And will introduce all these films more broadly. There is also theory about mental illness & possession in different cultures. (18<)

[mcalhenwrites]

I was trying to figure out which music I wanted to listen to while editing Geckos. Something light that goes well with its haunting story and automatons. I never really figured out what to listen to while writing Geckos, and it ended up being whatever. I wrote the first draft in a month (Feb 2021!), and I don't recall doing much else besides thinking about that story nonstop. Anyway, I thought about the alarm music I use on my phone. My alarm clock (for waking up and reminders about appointments and cat meds) is "She's Coming Back" from Xenosaga Ep III (Yuki Kajiura). Which is a fantastic soundtrack too, but my alarm for timers (for cooking times) plays "Requiem to a Predicament" from Valykrie Profile (Motoi Sakuraba). I try to play tolerable music on my alarms and ring tones, otherwise it just causes me anxiety and is especially bad if I happen to have sensory overload. Though for strangers calling, I play Tales of Symphonia battle music (currently "Fatalize" but I might switch back to "Fighting of the Spirit" as a preference). Which I somehow slept through when the gynecologist called yesterday, which did not give me much faith since I slept with my phone at my pillow in case of a tornado warning. ;A; That said, I'm going with VP soundtrack for now, might play Xenosaga Ep 3 too. Will be editing Geckos long enough to play both, I'm sure, and then some. XD; Though I should check out some other soundtracks, newer ones, for games I haven't played but am interested in. Hmmm. Something that would meet the tone of the story. Y'all ready for Geckos to be published? :D (I know I am!)

[loathsomespider]

Oooh wouldja be so kind as to go into a bit more detail re: rejecting vs. ignoring canon? Would you say it's a bit like that one Brecht idea of "Not X, But Y"? Love reading your stuff, have a good one!

oooh, i hadn't actually heard this expressed in words before but with regards to the not / but idea before. but it is basically exactly like this, yeah. im only really skimming the wikipedia page since i do not really have the capacity to go take acting lessons right now, but it hits a lot of the same beats. i describe it as a kind of haunting, largely because i work on vast error as well and we love a good haunting when we're circled around the spritecooler.

it's also a trope that homestuck pulls from a lot - this kind of haunting by what you are not. you see it a lot in dirks relationship to daves bro, in vriska vs (vriska), in rose and jasprose, and the last non-goof pesterlog in homestuck is about terezi wishing that, if she couldn't be that more successful self, that she could at least remember what that more successful self did.

but this extends beyond the bounds of just "homestuck canon", the versions of characters we see on screen, but also, every depiction of the character, ever. vast error kind of gets at this in some interesting ways too, stuff like alternate timelines being "probabilities", where the more something happens in an alternate timeline, the more likely it is to happen in the "canon" timeline.

it gets called "fanfic brain" sometimes, but i think it's even more malleable than just fanfics. its easy to blame fanfics because so often they rely on repetition and derivatives, and it echoes on itself in that way. but stuff like the requiem cafe height charts, the way characters are depicted in pesterquest, the way big name fans draw them, the way your circle of friends on discord post about them, and how much investment you put into any of them, they all influence the way a character is read, intentionally or not.

but the thing is, stuff like the requiem cafe, pesterquest routes, big name fans, meta posts, they're all derivatives of the source material. that doesn't make them bad, by any means, and in a lot of cases, they can be really, really good. and that doesn't make the source material good, either - in a lot of cases, it can be really, really bad.

but there is still value to be found in the bad, and that i think is the important distinction in rejecting vs ignoring. it may suck ass, but it's there for a reason. and sometimes, that reason is as simple as "andrew hussie is pretty racist", and then you can just not be racist (to the best of your ability, anyway, something something interrogate your base assumptions) and move on.

but sometimes its more complex than that.

for example, the trickster arc is actually vastly improved by the homestuck epilogues's existence. the way the analogy of meat and candy shakes out in homestuck is kind of underdeveloped, and it might not be entirely graspable what exactly the trickster arc is getting at, even during the end when hussie and caliborn talk directly about what the point of that was.

and its not entirely flawless in the epilogues either (see: 16k word blog post i wrote about it a few years ago) but having that more clear picture of the mindset that the trickster lollipop and "candy" as an image represents does genuinely make it better. it's something i look forward to seeing on rereads instead of just dreading like a6i3.

it kind of gets to what i think is fun about writing a derivative and/or transformative work - there is the "play with all your action figures at once" feeling that i think most people get immediately, but its also in the challenge of making something meaningful out of playing with all your action figures at once, but that meaning doesnt have to come from just the good parts - the bad parts are just as meaningful to me

its also kind of difficult to separate things like growing up as a boy scout and having "leave things better than you found them" drilled into my mind forever. because it is sort of an interesting idea, right? obviously, the next step then, is that "better" is a really subjective thing, and worth interrogating.

is it actually improving things? by what means are you judging that improvement? bdth jane is spiritually a high school dropout going through an identity crisis. she's a nosey prick and had a full meltdown after she casually ran into someone who's not even her ex. that's really different from homestuck^2 jane, who is an on-screen child abuser, one of just two on-screen rapists in homestuck, horrendously troll-racist, etc. etc.

a lot of people like bdth jane more than hs2 jane - it's one of the most common pieces of feedback i get - but if i'm being honest with myself, that doesn't mean much to me? not because i'm insecure about my jane, it's just like. yeah, i can imagine you do like the down to earth weirdgirl more than the antagonist of a beloathed webcomic. but i dont know if that makes bdth jane better than hs2 jane, just because the metrics for "better" arent the same as the metrics for "liked" yknow.

tl;dr: when youre writing something derivative/transformative and decide to not engage with a part of a story, you are left with a hole you have to fill, since that piece youre removing was there for a reason. and i imagine most people want to fill it with something better, but you also have to know what "better" looks like because "i like it more" isnt always right

[ear-worthy]

Marlon Wayans on Drink Champs Podcast

When you're an interview show, it doesn't matter if your audience is young or old, black or white, or rich or poor. Your guest to be interviewed has to be someone usually well-known enough to attract listeners or viewers, and entertaining enough to keep them interested.

Thankfully, the Drink Champs podcast was able to interview comedian / actor Marlon Wayans this week on its April 7th episode. Wayans is a genuinely funny guy with some stories of interest to relate.

Drink Champs podcast will cover Marlon Wayans' new HBO Max special,God Loves Me, his past and current acting roles, and comedy career. During the episode (# 357), Wayans will share stories of his career, his family, the sketch comedy show In Living Color, and much more. 

Marlon Wayans -- nearly 51 years old - is best known for his work with his brother Shawn Wayans on The WB sitcom The Wayans Bros. from 1995 to 1999. His comedy films Don't Be a Menace (1996), Scary Movie (2000), Scary Movie 2 (2001), White Chicks (2004), Little Man (2006), and Dance Flick (2009)all scored well at the box office and with the audience.

Wayans has appeared in numerous comedy films including Above the Rim (1994), The 6th Man (1997), Norbit (2007), The Heat (2013), A Haunted House (2013) and its sequel A Haunted House 2 (2014), Naked (2017), Fifty Shades of Black (2016), Sextuplets (2019), and On the Rocks (2020). Wayans had a dramatic role in the psychological drama film Requiem for a Dream (2000), which saw his departure from the usual comedies.

Wayans partnered with Randy Adams to create What the Funny, an online destination for urban comedy. He created the comedy competition television show Funniest Wins, which aired on TBS in 2014. In 2014, Wayans and his brothers traveled the U.S. with "The Wayans Brothers Tour." In 2017, he co-wrote and starred in his own NBC sitcom, Marlon, which ran for two seasons. In case you didn't know, in Drink Champs, well-known Queens rapper-turned-show-host N.O.R.E. teams up with Miami hip-hop pioneer DJ EFN for a night of boozy conversation and boisterous storytelling. The hosts and guests engage together in a fun, light-hearted conversation - looking back at their paths to success, highlighting their lives, friendships, and iconic moments within their careers.

[quietbluejay]

I found my rant

Spoilers for Sins of the Wreckers and Requiem of the Wreckers

you know what? you know what it is? the world of the Wreckers trilogy is a world without justice or mercy

in all of Roche's work no mercy for the sinners, no justice for the wronged i'm not saying that look everything needs to be tied up with perfect happy endings, i'm a known tragedy enjoyer

but the type of catharsis wreckers offers you is like, well being repeatedly beaten with shovels it feels like you're a piece of wood being burned out and then scoured with sand to be turned into a pot "can we escape the cycle of violence? no" it puts that question and then not a single character ever escapes it except the people who are considered "pure", like Verity, or Kup

sometimes, the "innocents" like Ironfist die, that's part of the brutality of war but none of the "sinners" will ever receive justice or mercy or have justice meted out against them for that matter

why am I getting so upset over a tragedy? because it's pulling the rug out from under you because at the end it's going "life persists" but no one has to actually live with what they've done life persists for the survivors as they crawl out of the wreckage and think maybe about rebuilding again but none of them actually have to live with those moral ambiguities Snare dies and Impactor doesn't have to grapple with the heroism of a Decepticon, Tarantulas dies and Springer doesn't have to grapple with an evil person loving him

and it's the one raising the question of justice in the first place! it raises the question so many times it explicitly has characters wanting justice, this is the text more thoughts: and also I don't know if it's on purpose or not, but at the end of Requiem part of the glimmer of hope is Springer using the time machine to go back and try and stop the war except the rules of time travel are that changing the past is impossible, all you will do is end up creating the situation you have in the future i genuinely don't know if Roche was aware of that, he certainly ignores basically everything else in the continuity more thoughts on tragedy and themes: i don't think you should promise something in the beginning and then pull the rug out from under the reader in the final act because Sins very much was promising a reckoning! It was promising either justice or mercy, vindication or forgiveness and it gave neither in the end, everyone died for nothing this was also the case in Last Stand every time it looked like there was going to be some kind of resolution to the unburied sins of the past, every time there was that moment of tension, a character gets killed by an out-of scene sniper in Sins, I mean. This specific scenario happened twice! And something similar but not exactly a third time and then the fourth example "we'll talk about this after we get out" "no we won't" the attempt at resolution and confession is cut off and they do indeed never speak again you name something Sins of the Wreckers, you have the theme of the sins of the past coming back to haunt the present…and then you do this it goes out of its way to deny characters resolution or peace

[withered-rose-unbreakable-lotus]

@diablerieholic Many vkei bands have tried goth rock before but those mentioned the most as mostly if not completely goth are Malice Mizer and BUCK-TICK. I do not listen to BUCK-TICK so I have no recommendations but since you listen to them already I am sure you will find plenty of songs to like. ^^

As for Malice Mizer, I think the most gothic album of theirs is Bara no Seidou, however please do try songs from their Tetsu (1st) era too, before Gackt, because it was heavily gothic, I just wasn't a big fan of Tetsu's voice so I don't know what to suggest from that time. If you wish to try Gackt era songs too, go ahead, but do expect a more medieval style goth.

I am not sure if I'm allowed to put Plastic Tree here, perhaps I'd go with their vocalist's solo, Ryutaro Arimura's. However I am not very good with distincting genres, not going to lie, especially since many artists like to blend stuff, so take this with a grain of salt. In case you wish to try Plastic Tree though, I'd suggest "Kuroi Kasa". There's sth haunting about this song and the emotion it puts out...I don't know if it's what you're looking for though.

Versailles do have some goth songs but most of them are symphonic metal. So I won't even try to suggest something here cause, I'll probably fail miserably. ^^' I think Lareine, Versailles' vocalist's previous band is more gothic than Versailles I don't know.

Another kind of gothic that's more witchy and ethereal to me is 9goats black out. Do try "Sink", "You", and "yasashisa no imi" if you like. They are all ballads but I'm a bit stuck right now and can't think of anything else.

D have some goth songs as well, but like Versailles, I don't know what to suggest. There is a lot of rock and symphonic metal in their works, but they do like to play with more stuff like jazz, pop, Japanese folk etc.

Kaya is another option. He does a lot of electronic music but he's got goth songs too, like Curse of Rose, Traumerei, Ophelia (although that does have his signature electronic music in too) & Vampire Requiem.

Ah Syndrome is fully goth I think. Syndrome is the previous band of the vocalist and guitarist of D. Do look them up if you wish. They are more old school though. You might have better luck finding their songs on Ask.fm than youtube btw. To check if they are your style I mean. You can also try the other D's guitarist's previous band As'Real. You can try "Carnation" from those guys. They're oldschool too.

Last but not least, Tokami is another band with a several gothic songs but they also had lots of metal. And once again I don't have specific recommendations but mostly cause I think I listen to none of their gothic songs, only rock or metallish ones.

These are the only bands I listen to that usually get tagged with "gothic rock" in vkei libraries. I hope something helps.

I've really slept on visual kei. BUCK-TICK's goth rock and post-punk tracks/inspired tracks are really good. Would anyone have any recommendations for VK songs or albums that are similarly goth rock-y and/or post-punk-y?

[lilydalexf]

Here are some very good casefile fics where Mulder and Scully are in an established relationship. Enjoy! Above Rubies by Rachel Howard Biological weapons, ghosts, sex, guns, bad guys galore, Mulder, Scully, Skinner, and a partridge in a pear tree. All the Way Home and Head Over Heels by @syntax6​ A tale of shoes and death. Antidote by Rachel Howard and Karen Rasch Strange doings in a tiny western town bring Mulder and Scully out to investigate. Once there, they uncover a deadly experiment that may cost both of them their lives. Backlash by Joann Humby After a year on the run, a series of bombings mean that everyone agrees that it's time for Mulder and Scully to stop running. Blood Oranges by @syntax6​ The latest victim in a series of brutal murders has a surprising connection to Mulder, but it's Scully who has the connection to the killer. Their relationship might not survive either one. Caught in the Act by Parrotfish A secret is revealed, threatening to permanently dissolve the partnership between Scully and Mulder. Embers by @syntax6 Tiberton is a town rife with buried bodies and buried secrets. But at least one of the two won't seem to stay down. The Ghosts of Thurmere Hall by Stephen Greenwood Mulder and Scully, still trying to reconcile their new status as a couple, travel to England to investigate the mysterious goings-on in an old manor house. Indiana Filth by Lapsed_Scholar And thus was she consigned to hiking in Indiana in March. She supposes that there are some days when hiking in Indiana in March might actually be pleasant. Jack by Exeley_61 At the age of innocence, a child witnessed the brutal murder of his mother at the hands of a monster. Ten years later, can Mulder and Scully prevent such brutality from happening again, risking more than their lives, but their hearts as well. . . . Malevolence by aka "Jake" When ex-ISU Chief Bill Patterson is found dead in his prison cell with his face slashed and his eyes cut out, Mulder and Scully pick up the hunt where they left off five years earlier. Still convinced the killer is not a man but an evil spirit, Mulder pursues his own investigative methods, bringing him to the brink of insanity for a second time. Meanwhile, Scully is desperate to solve the case before she loses Mulder to his demons forever. Malus Genus by Plausible Deniability and MaybeAmanda What’s *your* evil spirit? Midori No Me by FridaysAt9 When several couples go missing from a 55+ community in Florida, Mulder and Scully are once again assigned as an undercover married couple tasked with solving the case. Mulder can’t wait to play house as a retiree, but because of the nature of their relationship at its current state, Scully isn’t so sure. Set post Plus One. The Miraculous Series by mountainphile Scully and Mulder, while in pursuit of a miracle, uncover the one that already exists between them... Nights of Shining Armor by Gina Rain A tale of shared dreams, fractured fairy tales and great expectations gone awry. In short, Mulder and Scully investigate a serial kidnapping case. Partial Abandon by MoJo Scully takes a twelve hour break in the Big Easy with Mulder for some pure MSR. Resurgam by Ophelia (ophelia_interrupted) Something very angry is haunting a tiny graveyard on the Vineyard. The Second to Last 7-Eleven by Punk and Sab (V. Salome) Across the street, a bank clock proclaimed it was 99 degrees, and the sky was black from another fire. Seeds of Synchronicity and Diametrically Opposed by mountainphile Six years after the events of “Aubrey,” Scully and Mulder revisit the Missouri town to confront old demons and lay new ones to rest. Unnatural Disaster by Michaela It's hard enough when your mistakes come back to haunt you. Harder still when you're a federal agent. Hardest yet when your partner's help is the first thing you need, but the last thing you want ... Wing and Prayer by Revely Spoilers: En Ami, primarily. Vague spoilers for Je Souhaite and all things. This takes place before Requiem.

[ddarker-dreams]

Yandere Behavior: Giorno Giovanna

⋆ ˚｡ Yan MBTI: RAMS ⋆｡˚ ���

Giorno feels a strong, unwavering sense of a duty to protect you. He’s made numerous sacrifices to make it to his position, some that haunt him to this day. Your presence offers a respite no other can. He wants to offer you a similar feeling, with mixed results. Affection from Giorno might go undetected, as even he’s not sure how to get his feelings across. 

Very interested in getting to know you better. Giorno makes you feel heard, listening to anything you have to say with potent interest. He knows the right questions to ask, and lets you do most of the talking with some input of his own. You’ll feel like you’ve shared lots about yourself, yet know little to nothing about him. It’s not intentional on his part, he’s just a private person. 

He’s in tune with your emotions. While he might not fully understand why you feel certain ways, he can logically figure it out. This can be a point of tension, since you might feel he’s coming off as icy with his words or actions. There’s always an air of professionalism coming from him, even in intimate moments together, his composure can be unsettling. If not for the telling beat of his heart, you might even wonder if he’s human. 

Giorno takes your relationship very seriously, even if you view it in a casual light. He doesn’t get attached easily, so once he does, he’s ride or die about it. He’s hard on himself in the areas where he knows he’s lacking, and desperately wants to improve for your sake. When there isn’t a conflict of interest with his work, he’ll put you first. If Giorno isn’t working, he’s with you. 

Gold Experience Requiem may look frightening to you, appearing and floating around your person unprompted. Giorno’s Stand personifies a needier side of himself that he represses, one that wants your validation. GER might start turning your stuff into your favorite animal, which can get annoying after a while. You’ve woken up to a bed full of cute animals before, which is cute at face value, but you were trying to sleep... 

There isn’t any timeline with Giorno where it doesn’t end up with you being kidnapped. He might try to delay it, allowing you to live your carefree life as long as he can, but any attempts on your life will end this honeymoon phase. It’s an undeniable fact that due to his position he has enemies, and proper precautions need to be taken. Even at the expense of your freedom and happiness. That doesn’t mean he wants you to be miserable, he still does whatever he can to make it up to you. 

He tries to give you space, denying the part of himself that seeks out your presence. Seeing your kidnapper would only hurt you more, he reasons. Knowing that you’re far from harm’s reach should be enough to sate him, yet it isn’t. Giorno wants your companionship, and if you ever extend your hand towards him, he’ll gratefully accept it. 

You’ll find yourself conflicted, torn between two trains of thought. On one hand, what Giorno took away from you is unforgivable. All of the well thought out explanations were just that, theoretical. On the other hand, you can’t deny the consideration he’s put into your predicament. Everything in your living space is to your liking, he encourages you to continue your hobbies from before, and showers you in any gift your heart could dream of. It makes it difficult to figure out what you think about him. 

Giorno is a slow burn yandere. Before you realize the full extent of what’s happening, it’s too late. Depending on your morals, he might try to hide his occupation. Anything that’s in the dark will come to light eventually, and he’s prepared for every conceivable scenario. You won’t ever suspect foul play until it’s too late. He wouldn’t harm you physically, but the isolation starts to break you down. Human contact becomes a luxury that only he can fulfill. 

When Giorno feels you’re not actively attempting escape, you’re free to roam around his estate. There are locks on the windows and doors that lead to freedom, but it’s better than nothing. He’s normally gone in the morning when you wake up, running on so little sleep you wonder how he does it. It’s not uncommon for him to leave for days at a time, but he calls you when that’s the case. Being a Don is a demanding position. 

Since sleep doesn’t come to him easily, he sometimes finds himself observing your peaceful expressions. It’s so different from when you’re awake, how you shrink away in his presence and close up. Adoration for you softens his eyes, watching the gentle rise and fall of your chest. He’ll have GER turn some of your pillows into soft flowers, around your head. 

Life with Giorno is oddly... domestic? He treats you like his lover, but without pushing it. Asking about your day, how your hobbies have been, about the book he saw you reading earlier. He makes it feel so normal, like it’s nothing out of the ordinary. There isn’t an ulterior motive to it either, he genuinely just wants to accommodate you. 

Whether you know it or not, you’ve got him wrapped around your finger. You can use this to your advantage, and he’ll allow you to do so. After taking away so much from you, even if it’s for the greater good, it’s the least he can do. 

Quotes.

���You’ve been on my mind all day, amore.” 

“Oh, this? It’s a little gift I picked up for you on the way here. I hope it suits your tastes.” 

“Is there... anything I can do to cheer you up?” 

[transsexualhamlet]

what's requiem of the rose king? 👀👀👀

oh i'm GLAD YOU ASKED you are GETTING AN ESSAY

Much like The Case Study of Vanitas, it's a niche manga I've loved for YEARS which is suddenly getting an anime adaption, and I hope it gets the warm reception vanitas got (even though I still haven't gotten around to finishing vanitas lol)

It's technically based off of the shakespeare plays Henry VI and Richard III, but you know, this manga is based off of shakespeare like yuumori is based off of sherlock holmes.

I'm gonna put my long rambling explanation of the plot under the cut because this manga is Not For The Faint Of Heart (it's pretty explicit in the manga but that will probably get cut out a lot in the anime, but generally there is a SHIT TON of gore, sexual assault, sexism, homophobia and transphobia and MORE as associated with the time period! beware of that.) But yeah, main talking point, canon queer main characters.

So the main character is Richard, who is canonically intersex and canonically bisexual, though because it's set in the 1400s, they obviously treat it, poorly. We don't really know what type of intersexuality he has other than like, he identifies as a dude but has boobs, generally has a femininely shaped body, and is infertile. That's all we know the characters all call him a hermaphrodite demon which is very helpful /s

Richard is the youngest son of the house of York during the wars of the roses, and because he's intersex (and also one of his eyes is blind i think) he's been basically hidden from the public eye from birth and his mom (the queen) abused him a lot, though his dad always loved him anyway and made an effort to be kind to him. He's also inexplicably haunted by the ghost of joan of arc telling him hes an evil demon and to hate his body.

Fast forward to when he's 18, his dad (the king) dies in a battle against the lancasters, yknow, the other guys vying for the crown. So Richard decides he's gonna go off to war and become the new king (even though he has like, four older brothers all in line before him) and yeah, shit kind of goes downhill from there.

Richard ends up actually meeting Henry the 6th, who is the young king of the Lancasters (although we are never given an age for him, also Helpful), and they end up becoming besties and then lovers, yknow, one of those "this is the only person who's ever treated me with kindness" type deal. (Henry's a sweetheart i love him he deserves awards for putting up with Richard) This is an issue considering they are on opposite sides also 1400s England doesn't really enjoy gay men

Yeah so there are thirteen whole books of the manga so I really couldn't tell you the whole plot considering I haven't actually read it in quite some time! But the gist of the plot revolves around

-Richard is morally grey to begin with but because of Trauma, Manipulation, Power, and More TM this dude as he gets older just keeps getting Corrupted as he reaches for the crown, there's um, a lot of murder

-The struggle to keep rumors about his body under control gets significantly harder as time goes on and a lot of people take advantage of that to gain control over him its not good

-Henry's nephew gets a crush on Richard after deciding he's actually a girl, im serious, that kid needs to be slapped, also he is A Child

-like every single one of Richard's brothers ends up on the throne and then, off the throne TM

-Political Intrigue! Ft. Richard's unhappy marriage to a girl who deserves better

-Richard and Henry Do Not Stay Together and it Does Not End Well (but I mean this in a THIS IS ONE OF THE MOST INTERESTING PARTS way even though it's not a Good Thing)

-Richard is generally a whore and has many many relationships however they are all Incredibly Bad Relationships and I think he should maybe Stop That

-um, Richard is hot, end of story, it's gonna be a great anime

[agentnico]

Cherry (2021) Review

Spider-Man does drugs. Makes sense to be fair, as one must be quite high to supposedly swing about on web slings hallucinating of green goblins and sandmen. 

Plot: Cherry drifts from college dropout to army medic in Iraq - anchored only by his true love, Emily. But after returning from the war with PTSD, his life spirals into drugs and crime as he struggles to find his place in the world.

Fresh of their success of making the highest grossing film of all time - Avengers: Endgame - the Russo brothers step away from sci-fi superhero extravaganza and instead tell a more grounded and serious story of love, war, PTSD, depression and drug use. This is indeed a very serious and in fact slow paced movie, at its own detriment at times as this film is way over 2 hours and it could have easily been cut shorter by 20-30 minutes. This is a case of style over substance, with the Russos putting major focus on finding creative ways of playing around with the camera and bring out some unique visuals, and as such there are many well shot sequences, however that comes at the expense of a chaotic narrative, with the stylization distracting from the overall plot. As such I want to bring up Darren Aronofsky’s 2000 psychological thriller Requiem for a Dream which shares the same DNA to Cherry, in that it also focuses on depicting the various stages of substance use that lead to addiction and the expected aftermaths. With that movie, there’s also a lot of editing trickery and visual experimentation, however Aronofsky never loses sight of the story he is trying to tell and as such the movie’s shock and horror leaves more of an after effect on the audience, haunting the viewer with its acts of provocation. In the case of Cherry, the Russos do indeed get a bit too invested in stopping and smelling the roses by fixating on some other visual trick but at the expense of dragging out the plot and the movie run time and as such making many parts of the film boring. This leads to the overall experience being not as hard hitting as it should be. In fact, at times when the movie should shock it surprisingly holds back and that’s why Requiem for a Dream is more superior in this genre of work. Also, the music in Cherry has nothing against that central “Lux Aeterna” music theme of Requiem for a Dream! That track is a true adrenaline filled power piece that gives Richard Wagner’s “Ride of the Valkyries” a run for its money.

Where Cherry does work is in its central performances. Tom Holland who is most notably known for his Marvel work, has previously exhibited that he has dramatic chops with last year’s dark turn in The Devil All the Time, and now goes even further than that. To the beginning of the movie, Holland does what Holland does best, however as the movie progresses and he transcends into madness and drug use and the deepest pits of despair, Holland is really forced to challenge himself as an actor, having to deliver the raw emotion and complete loss of control of his surroundings, and you do end up at times forgetting that its Tom Holland and instead this broken shell of a man, and it’s truly incredible to watch. What is also incredible to watch is the amount of hairstyle changes the kid goes through in this movie! If you’ve ever wanted to see Peter Parker’s head shape change as much as it does in this movie then boy are you in for a treat!! Ciara Bravo too has to carry some of the dramatic heft as Cherry’s wife who sticks with him through all the hardships and works as a fitting on-screen partner. Jack Reynor also pops in to drop some of his classic Irish charm and then leaves to probably, I don’t know, go have a Guinness at the local pub. Who knows what those Irish folk do in their free time...

The movie does leave you with an upsetting after thought that this is something that doesn’t just happen to one man. There are many out there who face similar struggles and hardships, and speaking especially of war veterans who aren’t given the proper support and medical help after providing time of their service to their country, so many people end up falling into that same black hole. Its a depressing notion and one that is unfortunately very true. Definitely something worth pondering about, and though as I said Cherry is far from perfect and overstays its welcome, it’s nonetheless a very interesting though tough watch.

Overall score: 7/10

[docholligay]

LIVESTREAM WINNERS AND TOP POINT COMMENTS

THose of you who read the schedule already know this but the winners are:

HOLLIGAY INVOKES THE SPIRIT OF CLOSET GHOST 

and

WE COOK FOR DINNER IN THE APOCALYPSE

Please join me for both! It’ should be a terrifying, thrilling time. 

AND NOW, THOSE OF YOU WHO MADE ME FEEL THE WARMEST. Thank you to all who answered--I know this was super self indulgent and it means a lot to me that you took the time. So, literally 12 out of the 13 of you got at least one point (One person did not give any details, or even a quote) MAZEL. 

Point allocations are below!!

One point winners: 

4(?)ish years ago, you sent Jet a series of letters/cards/funeral lilies, from different Sailor Moon characters. The lilies were for Mako. One card was from Michiru, after Haruka's death. I have never been able to find them again, but I just loved the care you put into them--how they were all written specifically from the character, the fact that you even put tear stains and perfume on the cards. It was just so creative and touching, and it felt like the characters were real for an instant, mourning and living and giving you a peek at their lives. --- @kumeko (That was A Little Letter, and Mako’s was actually a separate thing for the same contest!) 

   “Before you get yourselves killed I want to go on record as saying this is the stupidest thing you’ve ever done.” Rei stood with her hands on her hips at the front of the garage- from that short story about Mina and Haruka strapping an engine to a shopping cart. You can really feel how rei must feel, the resigned exasperation mixed with genuine, but hidden, concern for Mina and haruka’s safety. I think i have said the exactsame thing before people i know do stupid shit. --- BeefSalad33  (oh ma, an oldie but, I think, a goodie) 

OH MAN. I am always thinking nonstop about that piece where Minako confronts Seiya about bullying Haruka, specifically for the line where Mina spits out "you think she'll love you for this?" and UGH that LINE. it HAUNTS me, I want to BITE DOWN ON IT AND NEVER LET GO, I WANT TO PUT IT EVERYWHERE EVER BECAUSE IT HURTS SO GOOD, AND I DON'T EVEN CARE ABOUT SEIYA. --- @wouldntyoulichentoknow (I’m so glad that I’ve managed to make both you and jetty grit your teeth and care about Seiya at some point ahahah) 

"*But flowers grow from death and decay, don’t they? That has always been true, you know that, Mako. You are a rose of perfect beauty, grown in the rich fertilizer of your loss.*

She threw the stress ball across the room, knocking over the cup on the sink, spilling the ice down the drain."

The contrast between reminding herself of how life works, and then still being bitter about it, and knowing what she is and being frustrated about it. It's a lot, when sorting out various issues- i have trauma, and that makes me better at empathizing with people, i'm adaptable long-term, and that means i can put up with some bullshit, that kind of thing, but that doesn't mean those are wholly good things. It's nice to see it put into words, and so plainly, and with such a strong reaction of it.

Roses can still grow wild, as pretentious as that sounds with how your passage resonates to me, but it's still nice to feel that. ---- @katrani (I’m so glad it resonates with you! I liked that line a lot! ) 

2 point answers:

Christmas Carol, Stave 1 - “You are a terrible person,” she jutted out her chin, feigning strength. “Fareeha deserved much better than you. But,” she took a deep breath. “I still hope she forgives you, someday. Someday, I hope you will deserve it.” It feels like cheating to use the most recent thing you’ve written, but nonetheless this section conveys so much about your take on Mercy, so quickly. She may be an idealist, the peacekeeper and builder, and she may want Pharah to have a relationship with her mother that’s not this disaster, but that doesn’t stop her from acknowledging that Ana’s been the primary factor in making it what it is and telling Ana that directly. I love how you write Mercy (and Tracer for that matter) as very warm characters who try to see the best in their situations but won’t gloss over the fact that sometimes, someone does have to be shot in the fucking face. “Good” doesn’t mean “hopelessly naive”, even with a pacifist, and I appreciate that you have characters who show that. 

Bonus, and a fringe case as technically part of the Fushigi Yuigi hateblog: “She was still trying to get home, had been unable to get Tamahome to let her poison him, and then Nakago had hugged her into his chest until she had been forced to flatten him with a punch to the nads. She was tired, she was hungry, and she was trying to have a moonlight bath to consider her options and wash the stink of a man off of her.

And then, Tamahome, again.” - Haruka-gets-dumped-into-Fushigi-Yuugi-as-Yui was a delight that entire episode, but this post was one of the best. Is it really just narrativizing your frustrations with the many, many writing choices that were made here? Absolutely. But it’s a fun little bit of comedic pacing here, especially with the utter exhaustion of Haruka that this bullshit isn’t over yet. (“Fuck my life” to the moon wondering if Usagi could help and regretting how hard it would be to drown herself are close runners-up on that front.) --- Regalli 

(Mercy is, in many ways, my attempt to write someone who is MOSTLY a pacifist that I can respect. It’s not easy for me! I often find pacifism to be cowardice, because so often in life the people I know who are pacifists are, well, not the folks in the street. So i thought, could you write someone who is very hesitant to kill, who believes that even Doomfist, even Reaper, even whoever, deserve care if they are hurt, who believes that a sword will not leave her hand free to uplift the fallen, and make her brave? And make her strong? And so was born, Mercy, who proved that, yeah that person, at least in my mind, can exist.) 

I think one of my favorite passages from your writing is from "The Rest is Commentary". Particularly the part that starts with "I am a doer. " That entire paragraph is wonderfully written, with mix of beautifully descriptive language to describe *why* you don't trust words. It's slightly paradoxical, but it also fits with the rest of the essay (?) so well. And even beyond that,  I love reading when you write about your faith. You are deeply devout woman, and a personal aspiration to me. When you write about your faith, it reminds me that there is work that needs to be done to live it, and not easy work either. But it is very much worth every bead of sweat, and every drop of blood. --- @shavedjudomonkey 

(Thank you so much! I love that people have connected so much with my Jewish writing) 

3 point answers: 

From Requiem for the Great Consummation, I adore the word play with "compose." Ie, in the line, "Michiru folded her hands in her lap and composed herself." Why? I'm a musician. So, Michiru, with her music, holds a special place in my heart. (Why Ami gets the music attacks is beyond me. WTF?)  I don't think the writers ever really understood what it takes to be a musician, and while fanfic writers often include Michiru's music, I've never really seen it done well. (I'm sure it has been. I just haven't seen it.) Music is all about structure. It has to feel free and soaring, but it can only be that because of the intense amounts of tension and structure underneath. A kite without a string plummets. When I reach for high, soaring notes, that's when I have to be most conscious of having a solid base. Making music Is constant tension. So, often when I see writers portray musicians, it's all "she never felt so free and untethered as when she sang/played the,violin/piano/whatever." And I think, "wow, really? She must have been Crap." So, back to compose/compose. This wordplay shows that tension. The "I have rehearsed this 5,000 times and am still working so hard I'm sweating standing still in this freezing auditorium so that it can look and sound completely free and easy." This is Michiru's entire life. She is composing herself. She is outlining complex rhythms and tensions and resolutions that even though you hear when the piece is played, you don't fully take in or understand, and all you consciously comprehend is 'wow, pretty.' Because that's how music works. Organs have keys that can't be heard by the human ear, and composers include them in their pieces. Why? We can't hear them! But we feel them. If you look at the score for an orchestral piece, it contains So. Many. Notes. So much going on. But when you listen, all you hear is that melodic theme. But if you take out anything underneath, things change and cam fall apart. Michiru lives her life like that. She creates herself, composes herself, and it looks elegant and free and easy, but it is so so very tightly controlled and rehearsed, and that particular wordplay showed off that side of Michiru's music, which is one I don't get to see explored much. --- @incorrecttact 

(Thank you so much for this!! I am NOT a musician, but so much of Michiru and music speaks to me, the structure of it, the discipline, the way it allows you to express yourself while hiding behind something else. And yes! I think of that double meaning so much!)

I want you to know... that this was very, very difficult. I made a notepad and collected shit I'd pulled out from your work where I could find comments where I did such, and then I AGONIZED. Here is where I landed but know it's so close with other things god. 

"Winston worked in earnest at his inventions, and Emily went back to teaching, and the two of them began to cook for each other again. Family dinners once a week resumed, grew with some of the new recruits that were being folded into their family. Pharah and Mercy’s daughter took them to the zoo, the park, out into the world. Dva had continued the game they had all been playing before Tracer died, their party picking up after the terrible and well-done loss of their beloved rogue. ***Life did not return, but it grew forward. It bloomed again.***" — A Clock's Fading Chime

I ended up choosing this one because I hate it a little when I read it. Not because it's not good but because it's SO PAINFUL. I love so much about the way you talk about love, and I think grief is all a part of that. We grieve because we loved. The idea of the grief period, especially for those in a close circle of a lost person, being like the cycle of the seasons where a flower may die but life blossoms in the soil it left behind is so evocative and perfect and everything leading up to that last line is the soil for which that line got to bloom. The slow, simple way life returns to them, that they adjust to the heavy rock in their pack (A piece of yours I revisited for this and a metaphor I will always carry with me) and start growing stronger together. And that they find it WITH EACH OTHER too just god, it kills me. But would I rather wish it wasn't necessary? YUP. FOR SURE. It hurts to think about someone who plays Lena's role dying in our own lives and trying to mend the rift between those left behind. But it brings all those possibilities and who may have gone already before to mind because it feels so grounded in the reality of what these experiences are like and shit it's just a great sampling of everything I love about your work. Beautiful prose, saying so much with so little, grounded in stuff that feels read, and ending on a banger, transfixing line. ---- @thoughtfulfangirling 

(Thank you so much! I LOVED that whole series of fics around that, as it is in the way that I often like to toy with the nature of grief, and the way that we go on. Things aren’t ever the same, but we go on. And I’m so glad you gt into it too! It’s very self-indulgent for me, basically everything with OW, so I love when other poepl like it) 

4 point answers: 

Given that I am not Jewish, I hope this isn't overstepping my bounds, but your passover Seder speech really spoke to me this year. Specifically the bits about the relationship between cowardice and metaphorical bondage: 

"This is a celebration of our freedom from bondage, but it is a also a reminder, a call that we must ensure we do not, in cowardice, return ourselves to bondage. "

Without explaining too much, and risking the kind of parasocial oversharing that you lamented the other day in a post, this particular push and pull has been at the forefront of my mind this year. The intense gravity that the familiar, the easy, the safe, can have, versus the genuine terror of pressing out into the unknown in search of something better.

Trying to change, and to do better, and to press on, is fucking terrifying, and hard. But, that is not an excuse. And I appreciated the reminder.   --- @blastoise-m 

(Not overstepping at all! I am so glad that it speaks to you, I really, really love this kind of writing, and I really should get back to doing more of my Jewish writing. My rabbi is leaving, because we apparently don’t have the money to have a rabbi! And he’s readying people to be lay leaders, and called on me to be someone who could give Divrei Torah (sort of like our sermons) because of my tendency to do stuff like this, and it’s very scary! But really exciting as that’s the kind of stuff that had me interested in being a rabbi, is picking this stuff apart and applying it to our own lives HI YOU ASKED FOR NONE OF THIS SORRY) 

"There are no beautiful deaths in this world, and am sorry that you must know it. Rei never was allowed to say goodbye. I watched Haruka grow weaker and more ill every single day. We each have been jealous of the other, at turns, but I tell you this truth now: Our lives mean much more than our deaths. You and Seiya had a wonderful love story, and you raised a wonderful daughter, and unfortunately it is very often difficult to finish a story in a satisfying sort of way. It is not the end of your story, simply of hers. For you, it is a new chapter"

I think this is still one of my top 5 fav fics that you've ever written. I still think of it randomly once in a while. It's such a small moment but it sold me Usagi and Seiya in a way never would have expected. It's such a moment of growth for both Usagi and Muchiru. A small moment of connection for two people who are so different.

This is wrapped up in the entire MaS series, which I could never separate from this work let alone this quote. The entire series is a series about love and all its many permutations. About finding meaning in a world when you think your meaning has been taken away. About carrying on when you think there's no reason to do so. And I think this quote really encapsulates all of that. 

This story, this entire series, is one the favorite things I've ever read and I'm so glad that you decided to share it. --- @madegeeky

(I truly and in all ways love how much you love this fic, it cheers em and makes me so happy every time I am reminded of it. And thank you for loving that line! I FEEL that line. It’s been true for every death that has come to me, so I love when it has meaning for others. ) 

The 5 point answer:

"God separated the sky and the sea, and that’s true, but there will always be the horizon where they blend."

I'm not much of a quote person. I'll often remember the feeling or the takeaway but rarely the words themselves. This, though, has stuck with me.

There is so much in this world, and so many people, who see everything as absolutes. Black and white. Good or bad. Right or wrong. And as I've grown and changed, that has come to bother me more and more.

This quote is such an elegant and accessible way to express how that oh-so-common point of view is a fallacy. And really it's just a lovely line that invokes both lovely imagery and feeling. ---- @seolh

I FORGOT I WROTE THIS, and like the completely arrogant piece of shit I am, when I read it was I was like, “Oh fuck, that’s a solid line.” And yes I am with you on getting older and relizing that the horizon line can be so fuzzy out there, sometimes, and this quote WEIRDLY came back to me when I needed it, a lot, and so thank you! 

[dhwty-writes]

Chapter 15 - A Broken Solitude

Hello lovelies, I am back with another chapter. I'm so glad that the last one was so well received - especially the oath and Yennefer. Maybe I'll be tempted to write a short prequel about Jaskier and Yennefer and how they got down the mountain? We'll see how it goes. I also want it to be known that this chapter was filed as "Geralt vs. the Doublet" in my WIP's. You'll see why shortly. 

Unfortunately, I also come bearing bad news: sadly, @persony-pepper will be unable to continue betaing this fic due to personal reasons. So, I guess if any of you is interested in doing that going forward, shoot me a message? I also have to announce that this is the last pre-written chapter and I am experiencing a minor wave of writer's block atm, so the next one might take a while. I apologise in advance. Have fun reading the chapter!

Summary: While Geralt is still wrestling with the implications of Jaskier's impending wedding, a new Pankratz sister comes to town. Surely, everything will be fine, right? Right.

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Geralt couldn't fucking sleep. It wasn’t a new problem, he was well aware of it. Maybe Jaskier even had a point when saying that worries were the cause for his temporary insomnia. The fact that he hadn’t so much as blinked since swearing himself to his not-friend was a pretty good clue. 

But it wasn’t just that or the quiet noise that drifted towards him from behind closed doors. It wasn't as simple as Jaskier's confession of his impending marriage either, or the godsawful anger that seared through his body whenever he thought of it, or even the glaringly obvious lack of music, which was a rather vicious thorn in his side.

Why wasn't there music? There should be music. A dirge, maybe, playing in the distance. A requiem, to mourn the death of the Viscount’s freedom, his happiness, his soul. One last song to bid farewell to Jaskier the Bard. It would have been a welcome relief to drown out the silence that rang far too loud. 

Geralt wasn’t stupid. He knew that was what it was. Jaskier had left him on that mountain, but he had never reached Lettenhove. Instead Julian Pankratz had risen from the dead, instead of staying in his grave where he fucking belonged. This marriage was nothing but another nail in the bard’s coffin. 

And if that wasn’t enough, each passing day revealed more of the nightmarish monster that slumbered beneath Lettenhove's pretty facade. Geralt suspected it only just began rearing its head. 'He shouldn't have to,' was the mantra of madness that kept Geralt sane that night. 'He shouldn't have to, he shouldn't have, he shouldn't.'

He remembered his first instinct when he saw Jaskier again: ‘A curse. It had to be a curse.’ What else could shut him up, after sixteen years of grunts and insults? What else could make him lay down his lute, stop his singing, drive him home, if all the horror of the Path hadn’t been able to? 

In a way, Geralt supposed, it was a curse. Not a proper one, of course, they were very different. But like one of those Jaskier used to sing about, pretty curses for pretty princesses that would be broken with a true love's kiss.

Only that this one wouldn't be. He wanted it to be, very much so. Maybe he even prayed for it to be, as stupid and futile as it was. A curse, he could do something about. A curse, he could break.

But this? This self-inflicted purgatory Jaskier was living in, dragging him deeper and deeper down the stairway of living hell with each passing day? There was nothing he could do about that.

Because Geralt had delivered him there and now Jaskier did not want to be rescued by him - if he wanted to be rescued at all. ‘He’s not being dragged,’ he thought glumly, ‘he follows willingly.’ He didn't have to choose this way, and yet he did because of... what exactly? Because a miserable witcher had showed up on his doorstep and their friendship was still important enough for him to sacrifice nothing short of his soul for that? Surely, that couldn't be it.

'It isn't,' he thought as he watched the sun rise on another day of misery. 'It's not for you that he's doing this, you heard him yourself.' And why would he be? He got a pretty young wife, a secure position and maybe even a new title out of it. Many people would do more for less. It shouldn't bother him as much as it did.

That was true for a lot of things. He had no right to be bothered by this marriage, nor did he have any right to resent the young lady that had overtaken his own place at his bard’s side. Nor should he be complaining about the very comfortable rooms he was residing in, that so clearly had belonged to someone much higher up the social food chain of Lettenhove than a jumped-up witcher. He tried not to think too much about who the noble in question had been. The answer to that question only made him uncomfortable.

He heard Jakub quietly knock on Jaskier's door to announce the looming arrival of one Lady Justyna of Kerton. The Viscount sighed along to the quiet whisper of silken sheets. "Alright then," he answered, "let the mummers' farce begin. Fetch me my motley, will you?" There was a joke in there, one that Geralt didn't quite get, too preoccupied with his own thoughts.

The news that yet another of Jaskier's sisters would join them in Lettenhove had left a sour taste in Geralt's mouth. He wasn't sure what to expect. But if Janina's delight, Józefa's indifference and Jaskier's jumpiness were anything to go by, he doubted it would be a pleasant experience for him.

'Here's to hoping it's better than the last visit for Jaskier,' he thought. The day of the oath still haunted him in his waking hours as well as his sleep, with the look of pure agony in Jaskier's eyes when he had told him of his betrothal out of his head. He just couldn't forget how the whole keep stank of onions and tears, mingling with Jaskier's smell that was as familiar to Geralt as his own. Or the way Jaskier's pinkie finger had trembled in his grasp, the way Jaskier's hands had closed around his, to pin him to the present with nothing more than a gentle squeeze. The way Jaskier had looked at him, a plethora of scented emotions swirling around them, cupping his cheek, caressing the outline of his cheekbone with his thumb-

"Fuck." Geralt sat up with a start and forced himself to get out of bed. He needed a bath. A cold one, preferably.

He cursed again when he heard Jaskier race down the stairs, and busying himself with... whatever he was doing in his study. So, a lick and a promise had to do and Geralt had to rely on his discipline to will the hot feeling coiling in his stomach away.

But even with his shortened ablutions  he wasn't quite fast enough. He crouched before his chest in nothing but his breeches when his door burst open. "There you are, witche- ah," Jaskier stopped mid-sentence.

Since the Viscount couldn't see him, he allowed himself to smirk. "Told you to knock, my lord," he mumbled and pulled out a fresh shirt that he pulled over his head.

"Well, yes," Jaskier responded, stumbling only a little over his words, "and I also told you that I can go wherever it pleases me. My castle, remember?" 

“I remember.” He dug out a quilted doublet he didn’t know he owned and began fiddling with the buttons.

"Now, where was I?” Geralt could hear the finger fidget he did so often now. Another one of the jittery days, then. “Right, you need to hurry up. My sister's almost at the gate, or so I am told, and you will greet her."

He rolled his eyes and rose to his feet, closing the front of the doublet in the process. "Of course, my ngh-" He turned and his words failed him.

Geralt would've been glad to say the first thing he noticed about Jaskier was his flushed face. Alas, that was not the case. 'He's wearing colour,' was the first thought that crossed his mind, closely followed by: 'Fuck.' After sixteen years of peacocking he should be used to this. After more than a month of mourning garb, though, it still came as a shock.

The Viscount de Lettenhove stood before him in all his glory. Of course, he was wearing the cursed red chemise again, that had drawn his eyes to Jaskier like a fucking target painted on his chest. 'Fuck.' Instead of black, Jaskier wore green, a frivolous velvet doublet embroidered with goldthread that didn't have any buttons. 'Of course, it doesn't have any buttons.' He supposed the silk lacing fit Jaskier and his chronic immodesty, that had been suspiciously absent the past weeks. The  thigh-high boots the matching breeches were tucked neatly into, made Geralt's mouth go dry. He counted it as a small blessing that at least the shirt was buttoned up properly.

"Are you quite done yet?" Jaskier huffed and that was when he first noticed the blush burning bright on his cheeks. Geralt liked to imagine that he himself didn't look quite as flustered. His hopes weren't very high, though. "I know you glare at every speck of colour as if it's attacking you, personally, but I am, quite frankly, not in the mood today. So, you'll have to get used to it again, no matter how bad of a look you think it to be."

"I don't," he heard himself say before his brain had the chance to catch up. "It's not as offensive as the black."

Jaskier opened and closed his mouth like a stranded fish. “Hmm,” he said after a while.

“Hmm,” Geralt agreed, too preoccupied with how the light caught on the intricate goldwork with Jaskier’s every move for a conversation. He shifted from one foot to the other, showcasing the glittering strings that tied doublet and breeches together and Geralt couldn’t tear his gaze away.

"Can we go now?" Jaskier interrupted his musings once again.

"Do you want me to greet your sister barefooted," he shot back, "my lord?"

He just sighed and leaned against the door frame, waving his hand in boredom. "Get a move on, then. We haven't got all day."

"Yes, my lord," Geralt mocked and put on the soft stockings Ana, Marin's mother and the head cook, had gifted him before pulling on his boots. It was weird to be dressed all in new clothes. It felt like they didn't really belong to him. But it was nice, too. Nice to be given things. And not to worry about holes in his socks.

"Ready?" Jaskier asked impatiently.

"Ready, my lord," he confirmed. Jaskier turned and bolted immediately.

He quickly caught up with him. It wasn’t hard. Jaskier was very distracted that morning, staring down the stairs at nothing at all. He didn’t even notice Geralt approaching. Instead he started fidgeting again. He'd done that before, Geralt knew, and he recognised it as a tell-tale sign for the bard to lunge for his lute and start plucking at the strings. Only that there was no lute in sight. Only that he wasn't a bard anymore.

The urge to grasp his pinkie finger again was nearly overwhelming. Or better yet, to hug him tight, that all the tension pent up in Jaskier's body could seep deep into Geralt's bones. He’d done that before, too. It had been uncomfortable at first and he had growled and snapped at him. Only when even that hadn’t discouraged Jaskier, he’d learned to accept it. To anticipate it even.

‘How ironic,’ he thought, ‘to think how I hated it then and how I wish for it now that I’m not allowed to anymore.’ He didn't even have to ask to know that. "Nervous, my lord?" he asked instead.

"No," Jaskier replied and fiddled with the signet ring on his finger, "why would I be? She's my sister, after all."

Geralt raised his eyebrows at that. 'You tell me, my lord.' "I had the impression that your relationship with some of your sisters is rather strenuous."

Jaskier gasped indignantly. "Now thats-" He faltered and winced. "- probably true.” He looked almost pained when he dragged his focus back to their way downwards and began walking again. "There won't be anything to fear from dearest Konwalia, though. She loves me."

'I've heard that one before,' he thought but couldn't find it in him to act annoyed. "Hmm," he answered.

Jaskier scoffed, not very impressed. "Go on, witcher. Speak your mind. I can hear you mocking me even so."

He smiled. Of course he could. "I was just reminiscing on all the times you said this in the past, my lord," he answered. "And how often it led to us spending the night out in the rain."

Jaskier laughed and pushed the door to the courtyard open. "Well, you're in luck, Geralt," he said and spun to hold it open for him. "The chances of that are minimal."

Geralt snorted and stepped out into the freezing morning. Next thing he knew, the Viscount was on the floor, writhing and yelling, and shoving at the stranger who had tackled him.

Geralt cursed. How had he not seen that coming? He was a witcher, for fuck's sake. Fuck, he had just sworn to Jaskier that he would keep him safe and now this: "Get off me!" Jaskier shouted and kicked his legs. "You're crushing me, you horrible, horrible person! And ruining my doublet besid- no, not the sides, I’m ticklish, fuck- godsdammit, Geralt-!"

He was on the attacker a heartbeat later, pulling her off his Viscount. "Oh, you dirty son of a whore, get your hands off me!" she screeched in turn and slapped at his wrists, not that it did her any good. "Unhand me, you brute, you swine, and let me punish my brother for his crimes!"

'Brother?' Geralt looked at Jaskier who was slowly getting to his feet and mercifully looked unharmed. Using the distraction in her favour, the woman stomped on his foot, which made him loosen his grip. She spun, kicked him in the balls and when he doubled over, she pressed a tiny dagger against his throat.

She stared at him defiantly. Geralt stared back. Blinked in confusion. He looked at Jaskier. Back at her face, an exact copy of Jaskier's features. The Viscount doubled over with laughter. "What?" Justyna of Kerton snarled and pressed the blade harder into his skin, almost hard enough to draw blood.

Jaskier slung an arm around her shoulders and kissed her on the cheek. "I missed you, Konwalia." He grinned and Justyna of Kerton grinned, too, and for a moment it was like seeing double.

It took his brain an embarrassingly long time to catch up with what was happening and to drop his hand. "Apologies, my lady," he mumbled, "I didn't realise who I was talking to."

"Obviously not." She turned up her nose at him, but didn't lower her dagger. "Who do you think you are, mangling me like that?"

Jaskier sighed and took a step back. "You know who he is," he answered and waved his hand. 

She narrowed her eyes, her gaze burning with icy fervor as she took him in. "Oh, I know who you are alright. You're the man who stole my brother from me.” Finally, she sheathed the blade, the gods knew where, and extended her hand. “Well, I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Geralt of Rivia."

“The pleasure is mine, Lady-” Geralt bowed to kiss her hand, but Jaskier's sharp whisper stopped him, too quiet to be heard by any human: "Don't touch her rings." 

He halted, eyeing and sniffing the pretty jewels warily. He nearly hissed with disgust when the stink of several lethal poisons assaulted him. Hemlock, cyanide and lily-of-the-valley. “Konwalia,” he said, thoughtful.

Justyna scoffed. "You're no fun," she accused her brother, as she withdrew her hand.

Geralt straightened himself and quirked an eyebrow at Jaskier, who crossed his arms. "I won't let you kill my witcher."

"Please," she rolled her eyes. "He's a mutant. It wouldn't have killed him."

"I won't let you incapacitate my witcher either. I-"

Whatever he had wanted to say next, was quickly drowned out by a squeal: "Mother," a boy in dusty travel clothes called, "look at what Daria is doing!"

Daria, he supposed, was the girl in Ciri’s age balancing precariously on the railing of a trough to evade the grasping hands of a nursemaid. "What? You told me I’m so dirty, it'd be easier to dunk me in the horse trough!" Daria shouted defiantly. "I'm dunkin' myself!"

"Gods have mercy on the parents of clever children," Justyna groaned and rolled her eyes. "Not before you greet your uncle, you won't!” She shouted. “You two come over here right this instant!"

The boy obeyed right away, scurrying over to hide behind Justyna's skirts. But the girl needed more begging by her nurse and shouts by her mother before finally running over. Not before giving one of the two ponies in front of the stable, a pat on the neck, Geralt noted. Justyna’s three guards standing with the five horses watched the scene with thinly veiled humour. No other nobles, though.

"Your husband is not joining us?" Jaskier voiced the question that occupied Geralt's mind.

Justyna sighed exaggeratedly. "Alas, I fear he is still in Goldfurt," she answered cheerily, "where he is annoying our beloved brother-in-law terribly and teaching my eldest all his horrible fibs."

Jaskier looked startled for a moment, before he continued: "And he can stay there as long as he likes, so long as he doesn't come here."

Justyna smiled and mussed her son's hair. "Indeed, he can."

"Here's to hoping my husband dearest doesn't grow tired of yours," Janina shouted from across the courtyard and knocked on the wooden door. "You look good, Justynka. I am glad to have another sensible person in these halls."

Józefa and Ciri were with them, too, and they looked upset at that. But Justyna was quick to answer before the youngest Pankratz sister could protest: "As if I've been sensible for one day of my life," she sighed and opened her arms to stiffly hug Janina and Józefa after. "Ah, there you are." She smiled fondly as Daria slid her small hand into hers. "Go on now, be nice guests and greet Lord Lettenhove."

The two children looked up at her with wide eyes, then glanced over to Jaskier. 'The same blue eyes all Pankratzes share,' he noted. The Viscount smiled and took a step forward while Geralt backed up a little, trying to look as unintimidating as possible. 

Jaskier's niece let go of her mother's hand and his nephew came forth from behind her skirts to greet him with a nice bow. "Thank you for allowing us to stay at your keep, my lord," Daria said and if he strained his ears, Geralt could hear Jaskier's heart skip a beat. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

"Oh, no, d- madam," Jaskier said. He took her hand, to raise her from her curtsy and kissed it gently. "The pleasure is all mine. I hope you may forgive the mishap that is failing to make your acquaintance until now."

She pursed her lips, obviously straying from the carefully rehearsed protocol when she said: "I might. If you're a nice uncle, Lord Lettenhove."

He laughed and reached out to mess up her already tousled hair. "I will have to make an effort, then, little Lady Daria." She grinned widely, and Jaskier turned to his nephew: "What about you, sir? I'm afraid I didn't catch your name."

The boy straightened himself, but his eyes continued darting around, not daring to settle on his uncle. "Julian of Kerton, my lord, if it pleases you," he said far too quickly.

Out of the corner of his eye, Geralt saw Jaskier's mouth forming a silent 'Oh'. Honeyed happiness trickled through the air, as he carefully looked over to Justyna. She smiled and nodded.

Jaskier gulped and dropped to one knee before the boy. "Now that will lead to some confusion, huh?" He laughed nervously.

Justyna clicked her tongue. "How were we supposed to know either of you would grace the halls of Lettenhove? Go on, Julek, and let your namesake give you the hug he owes you."

If Jaskier looked nervous, then Julian did so doubly so, glancing back to his mother thrice, before finally wrapping his small arms around the Viscount's neck. He startled just like Geralt, when Jaskier sniffled quietly. "I'm sorry," he whispered, hugging his nephew tighter. "I'm sorry I'm late."

There was a simultaneous scoff from all three of his sisters and some muttering about 'idiotic men who didn't know how to apologise' or something of that kind. Truth be told, Geralt stopped listening as soon as Jaskier introduced his 'Cousin Fiona', and once more related the unlikely tale of their reunion. 

Absentmindedly he wondered, when it would be acceptable for him to make a quiet escape. Three siblings had set him on edge already. Four was definitely nothing he was equipped to deal with.

Just when he was about to leave, there was a tug on his sleeve. When he turned, he saw Daria looking up at him with curious eyes. "Who are you?" she demanded to know.

"Geralt of Rivia," he responded with a nod of his head. "At your service, madam."

"Are you the witcher mother talked about?" she continued. "The one that stole Uncle Julian? Did you really steal him? Why did you return him?"

"I... am?" he answered cautiously, not entirely sure how to address any of those questions.

He was still trying to figure out how to answer them when she already babbled on: "Why d'you look so weird? What happened to your eyes? Why's your hair all white? Only old people have white hair, but you don't look old. Why don't you look old? Can I have white hair, too? It looks wicked."

"No," he growled, but she didn't even flinch.

"You can't tell me no!" she exclaimed. "You said you're at my service, so you can't deny me!" 

“Aren’t you scared of me?” he asked with raised eyebrows.

She stood with her hands on her hips. “I am Lady Daria of Kerton,” she informed him, “and you have no right to frighten me.”

He had to repress a quiet chuckle. 'Oh, you're Jaskier's niece alright,' he thought. 'No fucking sense of self-preservation.' "Is that so? Didn't your mother tell you, witchers steal children and turn them into monsters?"

Her eyes grew even wider. "You can do that? Can I be a witcher, too? Are there girl witchers? Can you steal me, so that I don't have to marry someone? Mother says, that's what you did to Uncle Julian. I'd rather be a white-haired witcher than marry someone. And I already know how to swing a sword!" She gasped and quickly clasped her hands over her mouth when she realised what she'd said. "Oh bother," she mumbled, "I wasn't supposed to say that."

He tilted his head, intrigued. "Why not?"

"Father says, a lady mustn't bear arms."

"Hm," he answered. 'Arsehole,' he thought. "And what does your mother say?"

"That a true lady knows where to hide arms from idiot men's view." Her eyes gleamed mischievously. "Did you know that I can hide ten blades on my person without father noticing?"

That made him chuckle. "I did not, madam. Do you think it wise to entrust that information with an idiot man?"

She frowned and cocked her head. "No. But you don't look like an idiot."

"I'm very glad to hear that."

Daria crossed her arms. "Will you train me now?"

Geralt shrugged. "I fear that is not up to me to decide. You'll have to ask your mother about it. And your lord uncle. It is his service I am sworn to."

"Very well," she answered and tossed her braided hair over her shoulder. "I will ask."

He already feared she was about to ask right then and there, when Justyna of Kerton came to his rescue: "Daria," she called, "time for your dunking. In a bathtub."

"Later," she acquiesced. "I will ask later." She and her brother quickly vanished between four chattering Pankratz siblings, leaving him alone with Ciri.

His child surprise beamed at him. “Can we train? Please?”

As if he needed any encouragement. “Meet you back here in half an hour,” he told her and went to change and get his own training sort.

“Daria is fun,” Ciri announced as soon as she came barrelling into the courtyard again. “She said you’ll train her, too. Is that true?”

He glared at her. Fucking great. “Maybe.” His voice sounded far too soft for his liking. “You’d like that?”

“Oh, I’d love that!” Ciri spun in a circle and giggled childishly. “I’d love to have a friend.”

“Hmm,” he grunted. “You’re not here to make friends. You’re here to train. Start with the drills.”

She sighed and took her basic stance, moving effortlessly through the footwork Geralt srilled into her. “Why can’t I do both?”

“Making friends gets you talking,” he recited Vesemir’s words, “talking gets you sloppy.” He nudged her food with his sword, adjusting the position slightly. “Sloppy gets you killed.”

“But Geralt!”

“First rule of training?”

“Listen and do as you’re told,” she mumbled.

“Right. D’you need your mouth for that?”

“No.”

“Then shut it and get moving.” She pulled a grimace he knew he should reprimand her for. Somehow, he couldn’t. “Alright, I’ll do it with you.” That always seemed to cheer her up. Together they moved through the basic drills until they were rudely interrupted by Justyna of Kerton.

“Continue,” he told Ciri and walked over to Jaskier’s sister, who was eying his student with interest.

"So, it is true," she said.

"My lady?" he prompted.

"Daria told me you were willing to train her."

Geralt sighed. "Would you believe me if I said those were not my words?"

She laughed and shook her head. "I'd be disappointed if they were. She's a good liar."

"You sound proud," he said as disapprovingly as he could.

"Lying is a very useful talent for people like us," she answered secretively.

"Nobles?"

"Noblewomen," Justyna clarified.

"Hm," he answered. "Lower, cublet," he shouted to Ciri, who thought she could cheat by not making proper use of her knees, "I want to see a right angle!"

"So, will you?" Justyna inquired.

"Will I do what?" he asked irritated. Using a whole lot of words without saying anything at all seemed to run in the family.

"Train my children."

"The boy, too?"

"Unfortunately, yes." Justyna wrinkled her nose in disgust. "I fear the same people that forbid my daughter from picking up arms, also dictate that my son must. Despite their contrary natures."

He scoffed. "Your daughter can store ten blades on her person without anyone noticing.”

“So she can,” she agreed. "And one day, that’s what will bring people to listen to her. If she knows how to use them. So?"

He looked down at her and raised an eyebrow. "As the intelligent woman I know you to be, you should know that I hold no power here. Ask your brother."

"You are just like him, absolutely no fun," she pouted.

"I'm sure your sisters will be happy to agree. If you excuse me now? I have a job to do." Without looking back, he walked over to Ciri to correct her posture. She was cheating again. "You know you're doing yourself no favour with that, hm?" he said as he tapped her feet to get them wider apart.

She lost her balance with flailing arms and his hand shot out to steady her. "But it hurts," she complained.

'The trials hurt, pup,' he remembered Vesemir's response to those words, 'this is nothing.' But when he opened his mouth, the words couldn't seem to come out.

'It's a stupid phrase,' he thought. 'There are no trials anymore.' And even if there were, nothing in this world and the next could bring him to subject her to their cruelty. He tried not to think about how Vesemir had been able to do it to all of his pups.

"It will stop hurting," he told her instead.

"When?"

"When you get used to it." He poked her in the side and she giggled. "Once we get some muscles on you, you'll hardly notice it. From the top."

Both of them were lost in the almost meditative trance that came with drills, when suddenly a loud voice cut through the silence: "Jaskier!" Justyna called.

Geralt groaned quietly. 'Gods preserve us.'

The Viscount was dressed in a green riding cloak and heading to the stables, where Marin was already waiting for him. Apparently, they were about to restart their daily rides. "What?" he asked, mildly irritated.

"Nothing at all, brother. I just wondered whether or not your witcher might be persuaded to train Daria and Julek, too?"

"Sure," he replied with a smile, as he mounted his horse, "why not? Are you alright with that, Geralt?"

He shrugged and looked down at Ciri. "Fine," he replied begrudgingly. "Might be nice for Fiona to have some company."

"It's settled, then. Marin?"

"Ready, my lord." The Captain of the Guard was already in his saddle, his horse prancing a little.

"Where are you going?" Justyna asked.

Jaskier shot Geralt a quick glance. "I can't tell you," he replied cautiously. 'Great,' he thought. He hated the damned secrecy. "But you are welcome to come with me."

"And I would love to! Wiktor, my horse."

Geralt sighed and turned back to a grinning Ciri. "What?" he grumbled.

"You're staring," she informed him.

"So?" He knew he was fucking staring. How was he supposed not to stare?

Her grin grew even wider. "So, nothing. I really like Jaskier's new doublet. Don't you?"

"You little menace," he growled, "you're doing this on purpose."

"Maybe," she drawled.

"If you've got time to pull my leg you're not training hard enough. Again!"

It was the early afternoon, when Jaskier and Justyna returned from their ride — without Marin, though. He could hear them from a thousand yards away, talking animatedly about everything and nothing at all.

"Again," he grunted at Ciri, who was drenched in sweat, her dark-dyed hair clinging to her forehead. She groaned loudly but did what she was told all the same.

Geralt didn't really pay attention, much too preoccupied to listen to Jaskier and his sister. "As the good friend that I am I told him to talk to me," he related as they rode through the gates. "A futile attempt, I'm well aware. I hadn't been able to get him to talk for a full decade, but my inebriated past-self still believed in miracles. And then — can you imagine? — he asked whether or not I had sung to her before she left!"

She snorted. "Unbelievable."

"I know!" He hopped from his saddle and handed his reins to Wiktor. "But that's not even the worst part. He told me, my singing was like, and I quote, "ordering a pie and finding it has no filling"."

"The audacity!" Justyna gasped and clutched at her chest. “Your witcher should really learn to respect his fellows.” As if he wasn’t fucking standing right there.

He didn't catch Jaskier’s response, for there was a sharp pain in his shin that demanded his attention. He looked down to where Ciri had hit him with her wooden sword. "Ow."

"You're not even paying attention!" she complained.

"Not true. I was paying attention. I chose to ignore that blow."

"Lying is a sin and a crime," she told him.

"Good that I heed neither king nor god, then. Again."

Ciri groaned again but did as she was told. Geralt's attention was already elsewhere again, as Jaskier and Justyna laughed loudly and Geralt couldn’t help but scowl. He should be thankful, he figured. Thankful that Jaskier was happy again. Why did it make him even sadder?

“Are you alright?” Ciri asked quietly, as more snippets of conversation drifted over to them.

“Deliver our dinner up to my study, if you will,” Jaskier told some servant. “And see to it that my liquor cabinet is restocked. There are some celebrations in order."

'Oh, fuck no,' he thought and paled. Geralt was well aware of Jaskier's usual manner of celebration. They began with a tankard of ale and bawdy songs. A few hours of prancing and at least one pint stolen from Geralt in tiny sips later, he would stop singing and start drinking vodka. One drink had him chattering, four and he was draped over Geralt, and after that he took on the strenuous task of spilling every secret he knew, to anyone who would listen. The end normally came with sunrise, at least one vomit spell and Jaskier in some stranger’s bed. The handle of his sword creaked dangerously in his clenched fist.

“I am,” he told Ciri, forcing himself to sound as calm as possible. “That’s enough for today. Go and get changed.”

She hesitated. “What about you?” 

“I’ll stay for just a bit longer. Go now.” She gnawed on her lip and he had to look away. He couldn’t bear the pity in her eyes. After a quick squeeze of his hand, she took off all the same.

When he looked up, the courtyard was deserted and it felt as if Geralt was suffocating. "Fuck," he grunted and angrily kicked the horse trough. He really needed to get a grip. 

He heard an appreciative whistle behind him and spun to see Marin stand in the gate, leading his horse by the reins. "Careful now, Geralt," he said with a soft smile, "or you'll scare his lordship's servants again."

"His lordship and his servants can go kiss my arse," he sneered, half hoping to smell a whiff of vinegar at that. But of course, he didn't.

Instead, he laughed, and the amused smell of young wine laced with honeyed happiness filled the air. Without really wanting to, Geralt took a deep breath. It was intoxicating. "I bet you'd like that," he said with a wink and handed his reins over to a stableboy.

"Piss off, Marin," he said exasperated, “I don’t want company.” He was not in the mood for any of his prying questions and clever words.

Unfortunately, that didn't discourage him in the slightest. "Now, now, don't say that too loudly. Else someone's going to believe it."

"I care fuck all about someone's beliefs."

"Stop taking the piss out of yourself," he said unimpressed, "and start telling me what's gotten you so riled up."

Geralt grunted and crossed his arms. He had no intentions of telling him anything. Somehow, the words still tumbled out of his mouth when Marin smiled expectantly: "I can't fucking sleep."

"Oh?" The captain of the guard leaned against the wall. "Lord Julian's finally warmed up to you, then?"

He scoffed. "Still hoping to win the bet?"

"Hm," he said and smiled. "That too, yeah. So, how's the lordly bed?"

"Fuck if I know. Haven't even really talked to him in two days." And with Justyna's arrival he doubted that would change anytime soon. He sighed and drew the sword from his belt. "Drop it. Spar with me instead?" He had offered it, after all. More than once.

He pushed off the wall and went to pick up another wooden sword. "Gladly. I was promised to get my arse kicked, after all.”

Geralt snorted and that’s all the warning he gave before charging. “You seem awfully unbothered by that.”

He laughed and blocked the blow. “My fortieth winter came and went some years ago. I’d be awfully offended if I so much as stand a chance against you.” He grinned and almost landed a strike. “Don’t you dare go easy on me, witcher.”

“Not any easier than I would go on any other human,” he promised and knocked his sword away, pointing his own blade at his throat. “Yield.”

“Again,” Marin demanded with an eager gleam in his eyes. Geralt was happy to oblige and they resumed their positions. After a few rounds, they fell into an easy routine. It was less of a fight and more of a dance. 

“Oh, Melitele’s tits, I missed this,” Marin sighed as their swords clashed again. “Not as good as sinking my sword into some Nilfgaardian’s, but it gets my blood singing all the same.”

Geralt snorted as he sidestepped and dealt a blow to Marin’s backside for good measure. “Are you always this chatty during swordplay?”

“Usually,” he admitted and grinned. “You could try to gag me, though I make no promises that’ll work. I like to know my foe before sheathing my blade in them.”

He raised a suspicious eyebrow. “And I suppose you know all about fighting while gagged.”

“Certainly. I was captured during the war, you know? Had to, uh, fight my way out.”

“Hmm,” he answered. “Again?”

“Definitely.” He raised his sword again. “Wouldn’t want our tilt to end so soon.” Geralt blocked his blows easily, relishing in the silence safe for the clank of their wooden swords.

“Speaking of getting to know my foe…”

“I’m not talking about my past,” he grunted.

“And I wouldn’t ask you to,” Marin said and grazed his thigh with the tip of his sword. “So, about this sleeplessness.”

“Marin,” he grunted annoyed and felt the control on his strength slip. He hit him square in the chest and the human stumbled a few paces back.

To Geralt’s neverending confusion, he laughed. "Come on, witcher, is that all you got? I thought you were angry!"

'I am,' he thought, 'but-' "I don't want to hurt you." His anger always hurt people.

"Don't worry about me, I can take it." He blocked another blow, hard enough that it was bound to hurt. "That's better," he said with a wide grin. "Let your blade talk if you can't."

For the second time that day he answered despite his better judgement: "It's just fucking shit," he grunted and ducked away under a mean blow. "I know I fucked up, but it's like he's a different person. Sixteen years, dammit, and now nothing."

Marin shook his head and used the moment to catch his breath. "I don't think you understand how things here work. Maybe you were friends with him some time ago. Maybe you brought Lady Fiona here. But they're nobility. They're different from you and me."

"Bullshit."

"What happens when they catch you stealing? When you chop someone's head off? When you're a traitor?"

He grunted and lunged forward again.

"I know. But when they steal, it's taxes. When they kill, it's justice. When they act like the backstabbing cunts they are, it's politics. Like it or not, but as long as you're in Lettenhove, you're at his mercy. No matter how friendly he might act with us, we are not the same. He could always decide to fire us or banish us, or execute us. Nothing you can do about it."

"That's stupid. There must be something."

He shrugged and parried. "Tell me when you find out. In the meantime, enjoy what you can, shut up about what you can't. You're lucky. You're free to go, at least. For the rest of us, there's nothing out there."

Geralt snorted. "Right now, I can't."

"Why, because you're his lordship's guest? He won't force you to stay."

"Hmm." He drove him farther back. "You sure about that? That bloody oath seemed pretty fucking important to him."

Marin tripped over thin air and landed on his butt with a grunt. "Ex- excuse me?" he stammered.

"Hm?" Geralt said and pointed his sword at his throat. "Yield."

"Yeah, sure." He pushed the blade out of the way and accepted Geralt's hand to get back to his feet. "I just thought you said you're sworn to his lordship now."

"I did."

"Well...," he said slowly, "that changes quite a bit."

"It does." He knew damn well that it did. 

Marin didn’t get the hint to shut up: "He certainly won't fuck you now."

Geralt made a point of slowly sheathing his sword and sat down against the wall to take a large gulp from his waterskin. "Hm." 

"Is that what's been keeping you awake?" Marin settled down next to him and accepted the waterskin. "The oath, I mean." He hesitated for a moment. "I'm sure he'd release you from it, if you asked. He's got a good heart, you know, and-"

Geralt closed his eyes and let his head thump back against the wall. "I know," he interrupted him harshly. “Too soft.” Was his heart supposed to hurt like that?

"Right, I'm so-"

"I can't sleep because I can't stop hearing him," he gritted out, not knowing why.

"Your ears're that good, huh?"

He raised his eyebrows in amusement. "I can hear your mother scolding the kitchen boys from here."

"Really?" Marin whistled through his teeth. "What's she saying?"

"Nothing child appropriate."

That made him laugh. After a moment he said: "So you're frustrated, huh?"

Geralt grunted. "Nothing that should concern you."

"Really? 'Cause I've heard I've got a knack for stress relief. I’d love to take the edge off."

Turning to him he frowned. “Hm,” he hummed quietly as he took in his appearance. The sweaty hair, the flushed cheeks, the lewd grin. ‘Ah.’ The dark eyes that gleamed mischievously. And then the wave of spicy-sweet cinnamon, he inhaled greedily. ‘Fuck.’

For a moment, he thought of Jaskier and his heart ached. He'd missed that smell, omnipresent as it had been on his bard. And now it was back, only all wrong.

It was stupid, he knew. Marin wasn’t anything like Jaskier. Silver strands streaked his hair and crow’s feet adorned his eyes. His hands were rough, his stomach soft and his smile kind. 'This isn't right,' the voice of reason told him. 

‘Like rubbing salve on a tumour.’ He frowned. It seemed like a lifetime ago when Jaskier had told him that. He had been right then, he’d probably be right now. 

But Jaskier wasn't here. He was in his rooms, about to get drunk with the sister he had evidently missed and never mentioned before. 'He'll be fine,' Geralt told himself. 'He'll be happy.' 

Marin's smile faltered. "Look-" he began, but Geralt gave him no chance to finish that sentence. ‘Fuck it,’ he thought and hauled him close by the collar of his shirt.

Their lips crashed together in a bruising kiss. His lips were rough, too, but so were Geralt’s and he’d never cared much about that. It also dispelled any illusion that he was kissing anyone but Marin, which was just as well. 

Marin pulled back slightly to catch his breath. "Oh, good," he said, smirking, "I already thought you weren't interested. "

“Hmm,” Geralt answered and leaned back against the wall, “didn’t know it was an option.”

He threw his head back and laughed, exposing his throat while he did so. Geralt didn’t even fight the urge to lean in and kiss below his jaw. Judging by Marin’s groan and the hands that tangled in his shirt, it wasn’t unwelcome. “I didn’t know you suffered from blindness, witcher. Aren’t your eyes supposed to be keener than any man’s?”

“I’m seeing you just fine,” he chuckled. “Just wasn’t listening.”

“As long as you like what you see.” He craned his head again, obviously waiting for Geralt to make another move. He kissed him again, just because he could. 

This time, a stifled groan from the battlements broke them apart. “Captain!” Borys called, a large smile plastered on his face and that of half a dozen other guards. “Have pity on our eyes and get yourself a room!”

Marin huffed and smiled enticingly. “Alright, alright.” He got to his feet and extended his hand. “What d’you say, Geralt? I’d fancy a night in silken sheets and eiderdown.”

He frowned, unwittingly thinking of Jaskier. Geralt gave him three hours to be drunk as a sailor. He’d be telling stories, humming and laughing, maybe even singing. All of that in his study, where Geralt would hear every word. “No,” he decided firmly and let him pull him to his feet. He couldn’t bear it, neither with Marin nor alone.

So, he grabbed him by the waist and pulled him close. “I don’t care for silk and featherbeds,” he announced and kissed him again. “But I like the sound of a wall between us and those pricks. Lead the way, Captain.”