grannycharles
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“Your name,” Njilam had said once, as Nulu laid herself down in a rubble-strewn road not far from the boundary lines, ready to sleep. “Is it in your language?”
“Yes,” Nulu said. Her smile was earnest. Soon she would lose her teeth. “It means ashes.”
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 4,155
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 18
- Kudos:
- 26
- Bookmarks:
- 8
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Bookmarked by grannycharles
28 Mar 2026
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the game is on again by ReinventAndBelieve
Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
07 Oct 2020
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“So how is it looking? Oh.” Jaskier giggles helplessly, glancing across the table at his lover’s somewhat dazed expression. “Oh, Geralt, you are fucked.”
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Or, Jaskier makes an unexpected discovery while wheedling Eskel for embarrassing stories about Geralt over a high-stakes round of Gwent.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 7,554
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 115
- Kudos:
- 2,119
- Bookmarks:
- 350
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- 17,870
Bookmarked by grannycharles
28 Mar 2026
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The first time Siya says it she is, in her defense, concussed.
The young woman is pale and dark-eyed, with a sharply elegant face, soft like a falcon. She wears her black hair cut short; in the Empire—and this girl is high-blood Imperial stock or Siya will eat her shield—a distinctly masculine style. A masculine style that doesn’t mirror her delicate features, the unique femininized styling of her surcoat, the sweep of demure bangs left deliberately long as she tucks them behind one ear.
“You’re fine,” she determines, not unkindly. Then, by way of explanation, she hefts a devastating mamluke mace that has to have been hollowed out with cork for the tournament or it would have caved Siya’s skull in. Helmet or no. "Glad I didn’t hit you that hard.”
Siya, like any self-respecting woman, replies: “Marry me?”
(Or: Five times an upjumped mercenary proposed to the Empress' only daughter as a joke. And one time she didn't.)
Series
- Part 1 of Warhounds
Bookmarked by grannycharles
15 Feb 2026
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For a moment Xisuma feels as though the world has dropped out from under him— as though he has been sundered from it, and there is nothing below or around him as far as the eye can see— as though there is no anchor and nothing to grab hold of, only himself and a vastness on all sides. This world that he has built, the world his players have built— negligible, at best, hardly realer than a flicker on a silver screen. It would crumple like wet paper, if he told it to.
He is the universe cradling his players, holding them in his palm above a silence that’d claim them if he let it claim them. It would have had Scar. It would have had Cleo. It would have Joe, now, if he allowed it. They are so terribly fragile.
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aka 4 times xisuma gets propositioned by his players who are expecting him to make use of certain admin privileges, and he is really not whatsoever interested in hurting them even though he theoretically should be according to some people. and 1 time that is, uh, NOT what happens.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 24,767
- Chapters:
- 5/5
- Collections:
- 1
- Comments:
- 74
- Kudos:
- 347
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- 43
- Hits:
- 4,461
Bookmarked by grannycharles
01 Jan 2026
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Summary
“Well,” Joe chirps, “you know how I keep playing matches? Don’t spend those tokens yet, by the way.”
“Alright,” Impulse says slowly. “Yep, I’ve seen you around here a lot.”
Joe tosses his hair out of his face and grins, a little pained. “And you know how I keep losing?”
Joe's losing streak is depleting his deck. Clearly, there is only one solution to this problem. Clearly.
Bookmarked by grannycharles
18 Dec 2025