Sometimes the midpollo fancomic gets a little attention from you again and I'm reminded that I'm yet to finish it because no that was not supposed to be the ending I'm sorry I left you hanging on the angst like that😭😭 I will come back to it I promise kskksks
I think valve's philosophy regarding games is that a new game has to have something entirely unique and innovative before it can be released. If it is innovative enough, it can be released twice and done way better the second time. They release experimental first games, and the successful first games get the privilege of becoming polished second games. Gong past that is a waste though. High quality, inspired, design happens when new mechanics are introduced
If valve really did release half life 3, then 4, then 5 and so on, the series wouldn't be any better than call of duty 9 gorrilion and seven
Think about it
Half life: first successful FPS with a functional third axis, polished in half life 2
Portal: first FPS physics puzzle game, polished in portal 2. Previous canon is not abandoned by setting this in the same universe as halflife, but the gameplay is fresh. Another action shooter wouldn't have kept as much attention
Left4Dead: first co-op PvE shooter where teamwork was implemented into intended game design (special infected) unique enough to be polished in a second game
Team fortress: one of the first (maybe the first) PVP game with a class system, later polished
And then there's all the not so popular games valve released:
Death match kinda sucked, experiment failed, no second game
A whole bunch of VR titles, they kinda sucked because VR just isn't there yet. No polish expected
I think it's against valve's development/greenlighting philosophy to create a new game while using an old formula. It's why they keep making such great games. It's not the same slop every time they release a new title. Modern warfare 9999999999 plays the same as modern warfare 2. There's no improvement to be made after the first sequel and it's not a good idea to invest resources into games whose only real differences are improved graphics
Valve can count to three, they're just enlightened enough to know that counting to three yields boring games with nothing special or unique to make them worth playing
a/n: only a short piece since I haven’t written for Emerie before and I’m a little unsure about this?
warnings: uhhh…lesbians?, fluff, sexual undertones…
word count: 1,425
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She had been so reserved when you first met her.
Having moved to Windhaven along with your brother and being tasked with getting new leathers in, you had sought out her shop, intending to purchase, and had exited having sewn the seeds of a deep companionship. Perhaps deeper than you had anticipated, but that doesn’t bother you any longer.
What you hadn’t been prepared for, however, was her quietly lascivious nature. The calmly stated, erotic book recommendations; the out-of-the-blue fantasies she would occasionally recall for you after a shared meal; the deadpan comments she could murmur to you in the dead of night, the both of you pressed a little closer than appropriate under the guise of keeping out the slight chill. She sends shivers up your spine.
“So, what did you think?” She’d asked you one evening—one you’d remember well.
“I liked the writing style very much,” you replied sincerely, “I enjoyed the small details littered throughout the story, and how they accumulated in the end when they were all audibly noted and repeated back to her, as though he could actually see her—I thought that was wonderful.”
“Mhmm. And the scenes?”
“Oh…uh, I liked the scenes where they were together a lot, but that part where he was speaking with one of her friends and—”
“I mean the scene where they fuck.”
Your face burned at her corse choice of words. “Oh…well, I thought…” you paused, swallowing the lump in your throat. There wasn’t even the faintest flush on Emerie’s cheeks, and yet you felt like your skin was hotter than the sun. You cleared your throat. “It was certainly intense…” you hedged, “surprisingly graphic…”
“Did you like it?”
“Oh—uh, me personally?”
Her lips curved faintly, eyes twinkling. “Yes.”
“I suppose it was…” you struggled for words, “…it showed they loved one another…a lot.”
She had hummed, an amused expression on her features as she pulled a book from her shelf, walking back over to her bed and returning to her seat beside you. “Try this one next.” You took it from her, fingers brushing along the spine, opening up the first page a little hesitantly, “what’s this one about?”
“Women.”
You glanced at her sidelong, “they’re all about women, what’s different about this one?”
Emerie smiled. “It’s only about women.”
Your brows rose, lips parting on a shaky inhale before you glanced back to the book. “Why do you have something like this? We aren’t even…the books you manage to get anyway—we aren’t supposed to read things like that.” Let alone this, is what you didn’t need to say.
“Aren’t you curious?” Emerie murmured beside you, a few candles on her side table the only light in the room, save for the faint silver glow of the moon. “Don’t you want to find out what’s being kept from us? What they think is so bad about these books?” Your eyes scanned the first page involuntarily, curiosity indeed sparking.
But, you closed the cover, keeping it placed in your lap, fingers latching over its edge. You couldn’t look at her.
“Why do you think I would like something like this?” You’d whispered, voice trembling. A faint fear running delicately beneath your skin. It’s not unheard of for people to tell on one another, luring someone into revealing an unacceptable truth, then having that trust dashed upon the rocks.
“I like it.”
Your head snapped to her, eyes wide. Speechless. “You aren’t— Emerie, what if I told someone? Why would you say something like that?”
“I trust you.” She’d replied solemnly. “And I think you might like it, too.”
Then before you could form a defence, she’d leaned forward, slightly roughened fingers sliding beneath your jaw, pressing against your cheek to direct your head to the side as she’d brought her lips to your own.
You’d been momentarily struck dumb, paralysed with shock as the feeling of her mouth had sunk into your skin, the warmth from her touch irrevocably ingraining itself in your memory.
She’d pulled away, but her palm remained searing into you, your heart pounding against your ribs, swelling in your throat. You thought she was going to kiss you again, but she hadn’t, simply running her thumb across the crest of your cheek. “Will you read it?”
You couldn’t look away. Fingers trembling over the forgotten book. But you’d nodded your head. “Okay.”
And the rest was history.
————
A warrior’s body presses itself between your wings, calloused palms sliding appreciatively around your waist, squeezing. A face presses into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply.
You’d heard the door shut, but not her walking up behind you, her footsteps having grown significantly quiet over the past year. Unless you’re actively listening for her, it’s usually the case she’ll be able to sneak up on you.
“How was training?” You ask, liking how her palms fit around your body, how her arms squeeze at your waist. “Good. Tiring.”
“Go lie down for a bit if you’re tired,” you murmur back to her, halting the slicing of your knife as you tilt your head, trying to see her. Emerie raises from your shoulder to meet your eyes, pressing a kiss to your lips that you hadn’t expected but lean into. Your grip grows loose on the knife, and it takes little effort for her to pry your fingers from the handle. “Come with me?”
“I’m making lunch…” you hedge, finally glancing back to the food.
“I’ll help. Afterwards. So will you come with me?”
“For what?” You asks warily, having grown familiar with her appetite.
Emerie’s hands splay across your lower abdomen, fingers ticklishly tracing across the homespun gown. Her lips curve, eyes twinkling. “To relax, of course.”
“Relax how?” You push, narrowing your eyes on her.
Emerie’s touch trails lower, her head dipping to return to your neck, lips ticklishly grazing the length of your throat before pausing at a spot just shy of your ear, beneath the hinge of your jaw. You pull an inhale into your lungs when her hand slips between your thighs, still so unfamiliar with such feminine sensations. Even her lightest touches completely overload your senses. At your back, your wings twitch involuntarily, stuttering helplessly with stimulation.
“Like this,” she whispers, laying small, feverish kisses to your throat, fingers pressing to a spot between your thighs that causes your hips to shift, languidly rolling over her palm. “Emerie…” you whisper, hands flattening over the table, fingertips pressing hard into the surface. Heat beginning to simmer.
“Come with me,” she whispers, the promise so alluring when spoken from her mouth. “Why hold back?”
“Because…lunch…”
“Lunch can wait,” she assures. “This, however…?” Her fingers slide lower, finding that dip between your thighs, applying a gentle pressure, beckoning her fingers to invite you forward. “I think we should have it right now.”
“Right now?”
“Right now.” Her palm shifts, rubbing between your legs, and you have to drag in a shaky inhale to steady yourself.
You manage to push yourself upright, turning around to face her, already missing her touch. Your hands find place in the crook of her elbows, her own hands returning to lightly grasp your waist, her preferred place to hold you. “Bedroom?” You ask, a note breathless.
“Why not here?”
“Because it’s the kitchen,” you scold, skin flushing.
Her lips curve. “Perfect for food.”
You pin her with as fierce a look as you can manage, putting your foot down, “bedroom or living room, or it’s not happening.” Emerie smiles, squeezing your waist, leaning forward to brush her nose against your own. “You’re so arousing when you try to be stern.” She presses a kiss to your lips. “Bedroom. Do you mind being on your back this time?”
“For what?” You breathe, close enough to feel the flutter of air her lashes bat your way. Emerie smiles, her somewhat crooked teeth tugging at her lower lip. “What do you feel like? Mouths, or…” She trails off, liking the way your skin heats at the unsaid words. “Or,” you answer, eyes locked with one another, “I want both of us.”
“Might take some warming up,” Emeries murmurs, a wicked gleam in her gaze. “But you knew that already, didn’t you?”
“I blame your books,” you whisper, a smile playing on your mouth. “Putting all sorts of ideas in my head.”
Emerie smiles, her eyes sliding shut as she basks in your presence, a contented sigh falling from her lips. “I knew you’d like them.”
This song has been playing on loop in my mind since it was released. I have been humming it non-stop. This is borderline obsession but it is very very good please watch it if you have not already.
