#cough bard is gonna die cough

[sebastianthemadlad]

Who do you think will die in future chapters of Black Butler?

I know I've already made a similar post theorising over how Black Butler will end but I'm very interested in Black Butler fan theories at the moment.

I'm gonna be explaining who I think will die in the future and why, some may have more detailed explanations than others since sometimes I just have hunches a character will die and sometimes I have better reasons to think so and I may also go into how I think they will die.

(warning: spoilers for a lot of the story)

1. Elizabeth Midford

There are 2 main reasons I think Lizzy will die, 1 is that I just have a hunch, Lizzy is a sweet girl but we've seen that no matter how sweet you are in the Black Butler universe there is a huge chance you will die (cough cough Agni).

And also there is a bit of foreshadowing in episode 6 (I think) of Book Of Circus. During one of fake Ciel's monologue flashbacks it shows him sitting on top of a throne with dead bodies of familiar characters beneath him. Most of the characters are characters who had already died before then such as Madame Red and Vincent, but when rewatching that scene I realised Lizzy was there as well. Could that be foreshadowing Lizzy will die in the future?

Maybe the next time she sees the fake Ciel he'll try to kill her as revenge for basically pretending to be the real Ciel, therefore Sebastian will have to come in and protect him, maybe even killing Lizzy or the least severely injuring her (and after that Undertaker could turn her into a bizarre doll or something)

2. Soma

This is definitely more of a hunch than evidence. Soma hasn't been in the manga in almost 100 chapters and we haven't seen him since 2017, the last time we saw him he was grieving over Agni's death.

I'm pretty sure he'll come back since it's not really like Yana Toboso to write off a character and never bring them back unless they canonically died or something, we've seen characters not appear for a while and then return (like majority of the grim reapers, Fred Abberline, sometimes even the servants like Meyrin, Finny and Bard if the current arc doesn't focus on them much and more on other characters like Ciel and Sebastian)

If he does come back I have a feeling he may die, I'm not really sure how though, like maybe he'll mistake Real Ciel for Fake Ciel and will be like "wait a moment why isn't Ciel wearing his eyepatch?" Or something like that and real Ciel will assassinate him to avoid suspicion.

Speaking of Real and Fake Ciel, I wonder how Soma would react if he found out all about that. I mean him and Fake Ciel are basically best friends, would he feel betrayed? Or if Fake Ciel explained why he did it would he forgive him?

3. John Brown, Charles Phipps and Grey

Sorry for including 3 characters in one, it's because these 3 are a trio and I feel like they'll all die for the same reasons.

So, if you haven't noticed or haven't watched the non canon parts of the black butler S1 anime, there are a lot of hints to what happens in the future of the manga despite most of the anime being released prior to those events.

Examples: an animal based servant (in the anime it was Pluto, a dog man and in the manga/canon parts it was Snake, who looks like a snake and can talk to snakes), the servants backstories (while some changes were made in the anime, all of the backstories were mostly the same, Meyrin was an assassin, Finny was an experiment and Bard was a soldier in a brutal war) and Undertaker being revealed to be a grim reaper

Due to all of this I have a theory that John, Phipps and Grey are all angels. Why? Well in the anime Queen Victoria had a servant dressed in white named Ash who was later revealed to be an angel and was the main villain of season 1.

What does Ash have in common with John, Phipps and Grey? They all wear white and they all work for the Queen, they also started out as characters you probably think weren't as important to the story but then later became antagonists.

It also gives Charles Grey more of a reason to stab Sebastian in the murder mystery arc, maybe the whole time he knew Sebastian was a demon? And maybe that's why he wasn't so suspicious when he found Sebastian was alive on the Campania.

I've also sensed that both Grey and Phipps had a bit of a grudge towards Ciel and Sebastian. At first I thought it was because of what happened in the circus arc (which is why the whole murder mystery arc happened), but even after Ciel proved himself they both continued to be a bit iffy around them... Again could this be because they know Sebastian is a demon?

Ash died at the end of season 1 after his evil plot to purify the world by setting London on fire (yeah I don't know why either season 1 had a lot of plot holes) since John, Grey and Phipps are all possible alternative versions of Ash I'm about 90% sure they'll also be killed by Sebastian.

4. Queen Victoria

Sort of the same reason behind why I think John, Phipps and Grey will die, except for this one I have less evidence.

Unlike in the anime, there hasn't been very much foreshadowing that Queen Victoria has made a contract with her 3 angelic servants or even knows they may be angels. However near the end of season 1 in the anime, Ash kills her because she became impure since she didn't want to be cleansed after the part of her body that was Albert began to rot.

I'm not sure if that'll be the reason for her death in the manga since unlike the anime her grief over Albert is usually played for comedic affect (like when John Brown used a doll of Albert to cheer Victoria up) but maybe there will be another reason. If she doesn't know her servants are angels but later finds out, they may kill her. Or maybe she'll just be killed by Ciel and Sebastian for some reason.

5. Real Ciel

I think the majority of us theorize he will die, he's a bizarre doll after all and almost every bizarre doll in the story has been killed, also he's sort of one of the main antagonists now after he exposed Fake Ciel for pretending to be him after death.

Again I'm not sure how he'll die exactly, but I'm about 90% sure he will die

#black butler #kuroshitsuji #fan theory #theory #death #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #elizabeth midford #madame red #vincent phantomhive #charles grey #charles phipps #the double charles's #john brown #queen victoria #prince soma #rant

[acidh2otoby]

Can't Let You Go

Carlos Oliveira x Male!Reader

Warnings: Injury, death, angst

Won 2nd place from this post.

You didn't expect to spend almost four days trying to survive and escape a zombie infested city but that's what happened. You were a U.B.C.S. soldier and your platoon was sent in to save people but that didn't work out. As far as you were concerned, the only people alive were you, Carlos, Tyrell, Jill, and Nicholai.

You and Carlos had started dating a few months back but kept it completely secret due to most people still not being the most supportive of gay people. The confession and dates and such were done in the privacy of either yours or Carlos' apartments. You loved Carlos to death and would do anything for him and you knew he'd do the same, even if you weren't dating.

Carlos had informed you and Tyrell about what he found in Nathaniel Bard's office in the hospital and wanted one of you to go with him and one of you to stay with Jill. You decided to go with Carlos since Tyrell looked like he could use the break. That was unfortunately the last time you both saw Tyrell.

The underground lab was full of zombies but you both managed but ended up nowhere near getting a vaccine or anything. You both found yourselves helping Jill fight the monster Nemesis from a control panel. Then chasing down Nicholai since he stole the vaccine Jill made and was about to leave the three of you to die.

Carlos had gotten to him first and put up a fight but Nicholai managed to get the upper hand and knocked Carlos out. You tried to attack him with your knife but that also didn't work out. Nicholai shot you in the abdomen, you fell backwards and tried to stop the bleeding by forcefully holding the bullet wound.

Your hearing and vision became somewhat of a blur and you heard a few gunshots near you until you felt someone grab you and hold you. The person held you tight and was saying something but couldn't hear it at first. Your vision cleared a bit and you saw Carlos, he looked scared and a little tired.

"Hey, (Y/N). Can you hear me?" Carlos asked, cupping your face.

You nodded before coughing up some blood, Carlos put some pressure on the wound once he saw where it was.

"Listen, you're gonna be okay. I'm... I'm gonna get you out of here, I'll take you to a hospital and everything will be okay." Carlos said, his voice becoming shaky.

"Carlos..." You muttered, knowing that none of that was gonna happen. "Stop lying..."

"I'm not. Come on, I've gotta--" Carlos tried to pick you up.

"No, just go." You said, pushing Carlos away a little.

"I'm not leaving you here." Carlos said, still trying to pick you up.

"Carlos, there isn't time." You said before coughing again. "Just go, please."

Carlos began to protest again but you stopped him by kissing him, making his full attention go to you.

"I love you, but I'd love you more if you'd go and find someone better for you." You said, trying to smile.

Carlos shook his head before Jill grabbed him and started pulling him away. Carlos kept saying stuff but you were too tired to listen or watch.

Things went silent after the helicopter left, it was just you all alone. You didn't know where Nicholai went off to but because of how silent it was, you were assuming he died or managed to get away. The sun was starting to rise and you had just enough strength to find where the sun was and watch it rise before nothing. No more pain, no light, no sound, nothing.

You were gone.

Carlos and Jill were still in the helicopter but had found a place to land and stay for a little. They had been quiet since landing but they both knew why. Jill was the first one to even say anything.

"I'm sorry." Jill said before sighing. "I'm sorry for everything."

"It isn't your fault. It'd be one thing if you made the virus but you didn't." Carlos replied, he wasn't the same since he left.

"That (Y/N) guy, he a good friend of yours?" Jill asked, she didn't see much of you except at the end.

Carlos was just about to say "Yes" but stopped himself and decided to just be honest. "A little more than friends. We, uh... we were boyfriends." Carlos said, avoiding eye contact with Jill.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't know." Jill said, she sounded like she was about to cry.

"No one knew. We kept it a secret because we didn't wanna risk either one of us getting hurt." Carlos said, shrugging a little.

Jill didn't say anything after that, she felt terrible about everything. Carlos was grieving in a silent way but he was still upset. He didn't know how he could move on, or even if he could.

#gay #resident evil #male reader #carlos oliveira

[dancingwiththefae]

“ you need to distract me. do something, anything. ” for geraskier please!!

Thank you so much for the prompt and sorry this took a while!

CW for blood and injury, stitching up wounds

wc 967

------------------------------------------

The scent of blood invaded Geralt's nose. It was everywhere. The worst was around his left leg, where Jaskier's trousers had been shredded by the wolf's claws. They had not long left Vorune, and had decided to take a lesser travelled path through the woods to save time. He heard them coming but Jaskier wasn't quick enough. He was halfway up the tree when one locked its jaws around his ankle and pulled him down to the ground. Geralt dispatched of it quickly, but not before it sunk it's claws into him and by that time the damage had already been done. Sweaty and pale, Jaskier tried to prop himself up to look down at the wound.

“Don't look,” the witcher reprimanded. He did as he was told, laying back down on the ground with a whimper. Eyes closed, breathing shallow. Geralt had to think fast. Jaskier was far more fragile than himself. Without proper care he could easily lose his leg. They weren't too far from the town. If he hurried, he could get them there before sundown.

He cleaned the wounds as best he could and tore up a shirt to bandage it. One of his. He'd be damned if Jaskier yelled at him for ruining a perfectly good shirt after all of this. It was the best he could do, to slow the bleeding, until they got to a healer.

“This is going to hurt. I'm sorry.”

He wasn't even sure the bard was listening to him but he warned him anyway before lifting him off the ground. He tried to be as careful as he could but Jaskier still cried out as he was lifted onto Roach.

“I'm going to die. I'm going to lose my leg and then I'm gonna die-” Jaskier babbled ceaselessly.

“Not gonna happen.” Geralt settled behind him, securing one arm around him to keep him from falling. “Just hold on. It's not far.”

They raced into town, swerving to avoid passers-by as they rushed out of their way but not stopping until they reached the healer. She wasted no time bringing them in when she laid eyes on them. With practised hands, she cut away at the bandage and frabric of his trousers to reveal the damage. The bite on his ankle would heal mostly on it's own. Though she advised to keep it clean and bandaged until it did. The wound on his leg, however, would need stitching. The cut was deep, running across the side of his calf. It would be a long and painful healing process. She poured clear liquid into a glass tumbler.

“Here, drink this,” she instructed as she passed it over to Jaskier.

“What is it?” He asked, tipping the contents back and immediately letting out a surprised cough.

“Vodka. Best I can do at the moment, I'm afraid. But it'll help with the pain while I stitch you up.”

The bard frowned at the glass.

“Got any more?”

“Need you at least semi-coherent,” she replied, taking the glass away, “can't be wondering whether you've passed out from blood loss or alcohol on top of everything else.”

Whatever witty reply Jaskier was about to say died in his throat as she prodded at the wound. At the sight of the needle his eyes grew impossibly wide and he quickly turned his face away.

“Geralt,” he said through gritted teeth, “you need to distract me. Do something, anything.”

He didn't know what to do. Jaskier needed emotional support. So he said the first thing he could think of.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I took Ciri ice skating?”

The bard let out a strained laugh that was almost a sob.

“Only about a million times.”

Shit. It was the best story he had for things like this. Guess he'd used it one too many times.

“Could just tell it again,” he shrugged. It made Jaskier laugh more, and then they were both reprimanded by the healer for making Jaskier move around too much.

“Don't make me laugh, it hurts,” the bard whined.

The old story flowed out of him just as it had a million times before. Jaskier had the courtesy to smile and nod at the appropriate times, despite probably being able to recite the whole thing himself. He ignored the small whimpers of pain for Jaskier's benefit, as they both did their best to ignore what the healer was doing. Jaskier reached out for his hand which Geralt took without a word.

The story was cut short. Even Geralt was tired of hearing it. But the stitching wasn't done and Geralt still had a job to do.

“Around Kaer Morhen, it freezes in the winter. You could come up. Skate with us.”

“Don't know how,” he whispered.

“I could teach you. Or Ciri for that matter. She always skated rings around me.”

“Always been terrifyingly competent, that girl.”

It was the last he spoke, the pain and blood-loss making him weak and nauseous. While his hand still gripped his tight, Geralt carried on talking. About winter, about Kaer Morhen, about how they would spend their time with small anecdotes thrown in. Nothing particularly interesting to Geralt but it kept the bard's eyes on him. That was enough.

“There we are. Done.”

“Oh thank fuck.” Jaskier's eyes closed and his hand slipped from Geralt's as he brought it up to wipe the sweat from his brow.

“Though there'll be no ice skating for a while,” she said as she washed her hands in a basin, “or walking for that matter. I'd prefer it if you stayed in town for a few days at least. So that I can keep an eye on it as it heals.”

“Yes. Perfect. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to pass out now.”

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #hurt/comfort #faye writes

[dujour13]

11 for siavash >:)

Thanks Ella 💕 (good one, a chance to see a bard get a punch in the mouth 😁)

TW: language, blood, suicidal ideation

11. Blood at the corner of your mouth

Four of them, not a day over eighteen gauging by the lanky arms and cracking voices. One of them let out a wolf howl. From behind an overturned market stand they jeered and made obscene gestures.

“Hail Baphomet! Hang the Inquisition!”

“Piss off! This is our city now!”

“Hey! Crusaders! Suck this!”

One of them lobbed an empty bottle at Seelah. With an easy motion she dipped her head to one side and it spun past and exploded on the cobbles behind her. Her eyes went dark. “Enough. Cut the crap.”

“Go to the Abyss, asshole!”

“I am gonna throw you over my knee and spank some sense into you.” Seelah began pulling off a gauntlet with her teeth.

As Siavash joined her his eye caught the tail end of what he thought was a rag in the gutter, but that turned out to be a pale arm thrust out motionless, and then the upper part of a girl about the cultists’ age lying in a black pool, blood still dribbling from her slit throat.

“Oh gods,” he breathed. He was close enough to see one of the boys’ eyes rolling in rage as he tried to pry a board loose to use as a weapon. It was entirely possible they’d killed the girl themselves but he took a gamble. “She’s not dead. Help me get her out.”

The whites of the boy’s eyes stood out over the irises. His nostrils flared. “Get back!”

Siavash made a soothing motion, reached for his arm. The boy swung at him wildly. His fist struck him in the teeth with a surprisingly painful shock.

The copper taste of blood. Siavash spat, shrugged one shoulder and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. Boy, he hadn’t taken a punch in a long time. His mouth felt numb but he managed, “She’s still bleeding. It’s not too late.”

The boy screamed an epithet and kicked the barricade. One of his companions pushed him out of the way and began to drag the girl out of Siavash’s range, but the boy tackled him and hovered over the girl’s body snarling like a wild animal. Arms spread, Seelah began herding the other three boys away like geese.

“You got a healer?”

“Yeah. Camellia!” Siavash called.

She wasn’t far behind him, already craning over his shoulder to look at the gash in the girl’s neck.

“Heal her, will you?” He kept his eyes on the boy.

“Hm. What a waste,” Camellia sniffed, presumably meaning the healing spell. She hiked her skirt and bent down gracefully, murmuring in Hallit.

He tried to catch the boy’s roving gaze. “She’ll be all right.”

“She wanted to die,” he said sullenly.

“She wanted to die?” It was an old diplomatic trick. Turn everything into a question. Get him talking.

“She was too scared…” the boy trailed off, scowling.

“Yeah. Me too.” Siavash sighed grimly. “Almost pissed myself when that giant bug showed up in the festival square.”

The boy’s lips twitched. “You oughtta run then, crusader. This city isn’t safe for pointy-eared foreigners. We’re making sure of that.”

“You’re right, the city isn’t safe. Even for cultists.”

The girl rolled to one side and coughed up a blood clot.

“We’re not…”

“You’re not cultists?” Of course they weren’t. Keep him talking.

“I mean, we’ll do what it takes. To survive.” The boy gave him a defiant scowl. “We know a ritual that’ll call up Baphomet himself and we already have the knives. We’re not scared.”

“What about this young lady?”

“I can look out for her. She’s safer with me than…” he stopped and looked away, shoulders hunched.

“I’m sure you can,” Siavash said softly. “Listen, we’re on our way to the Defender’s Heart. People are rallying there to defend the city. I guess you’re going to have to pick a side.”

The boy gave him a hostile glare from under his shaggy bangs. On his knee lolled the girl’s bloody head. She still hadn’t said a word. She coughed again, a weak, pathetic sound.

“I don't care.”

“Come with us?”

Lips quivering, the boy looked back at his friends and swore. “Inquisition’ll…”

“Well if you’re not telling them, I’m not,” Siavash said.

“All right. Get up, Uma, let’s go.”

As Siavash rose and dabbed at his mouth with his sleeve again, Lann shook his head. “Nobody tell them what’s all the rage with the underground kids.”

#pathfinder: wrath of the righteous #siavash #tw: violence

[lunati0ns]

of one mind liveblog pt 2.

okay lets finish this episode. all under the cut because we're deep in it

no dont tell me rue's backstory i'll fucking throw up. stop. STOP. NO WAY. OH MY GOD!!!!! YOU WERE A STOLEN WILD ANIMAL GIVEN SENTIENCE BY MAGIC IN A COURT THAT DIDNT REALLY CARE ABOUT YOU EXCEPT FOR YOUR NOVELTY oh my god im THROWING UP

the most beautiful bardic ever given T__T

brennan stopping everything to make it clear that he and andhera look HOT walking across this misty moor together... theyre so approaching the action climax of a romance novel have to save the heroine vibes....

SAVED DETECT THOUGHTS POTION AAAHH!!!

"seeing rue here i like visibly catch my breath in chest" WHY DONT I COUGH UP MY HEART. HM?

damn it DAMN IT THE INSIGHT FAIL. THE DICE HATE RUEHOB FOR REAL!!

oh my god the way rue cannot look at hob. UGH THE RAIN CLOUD ADDING A LITTLE WET. FUUCK THE 2000S BACKSTREET BOYS ACTION!

[rue voice] can you guys stop being in a one direction music video for a second im gonna DIE,

oh my god hob trusting andhera with the detect thoughts potion meaning that he ALSO trusts anhera with his thoughts of RUE.... one of his deepest shames.. HE HAD TO HAVE THOUGHT OF THIS BUT HE STILL..!! they are best friends of all time

oh my god bardic inspiration being a little tune that the bard sings just for you, and in the time you save it before you use it, its a song stuck in your head... i love that idea

hob stepping forward with his huge paw and cooly saying "let me speak plainly." he also has handsome vibes. hes also my dad. hes so GOOD AT HIS JOB!!!

my heart is pounding. the pause before this response. i am so stressed. what do you think of the court of wonder hob...

I LOVE HIIIIIM. POUNDS TABLE.

rue knocking over the dummies LMAOOO

scorple knows everything you HAVE to KILL that GOBLIN!!! i fucking love scorple BRAAP!

AAAAAA THE BINX VOICE CHANGE MIDWAY THROUGH HER SENTENCE WAH WAH WAH WAH SO COOL IM GAY SO COOL

THANK FUCKING GOD HOB GET RID OF THAT SCORPLE

the court of wonder has swallowed my court... :(

THE FUCK? DEAD FAIRIES ARE MAGIC ITEMS?

AAA HOB GETS TO MAKE A BATTLE PLANNING BOARD!!! BINX WORKING TOGETHER ON THE BATTLE PLAN CONSPIRACY BOARD!!!!

ee e e e e hob talking to rue AAA THEYRE HAVING A CONVERSATION. ITS BEEN SO LONG

STARE INTO HOB'S BEAUTIFUL EYES!!!!! HIS BEAUTIFUL LITTLE PUPPY EYES!!!

i dont belong anywhere. shut up. tries to touch them gently while crying but is stopped by my computer screen. THE SAD MUSIC...

oh my god this rue backstory. does wuvvy KNOW this stuff??

god rue makes me so sad. theyve been so abused by their court but they can't help but feel a stubborn sense of loyalty that they don't even understand. even if its awful, its where they come from...

oh my god shut the fuck UPP LEE MULLIGAN. HOB THINKING OF HOW HE AND RUE ARE THE SAME.. BADLY WANTING TO COMFORT THEM WITH THEIR SHARED EXPERIENCES BUT HOLDING BACK i cant take this shit

even when theyre completely alone in the woods surrounded by trusted friends hob cant bear to speak of the engagement too loudly... loyalty so deeply ingrained...

THE K IN KP STANDS FOR KNICKOLAS. THE SIGH. THE I LOVE HIM!!!!

AND ANDHERA KNOWS!!!!!!!!!!

I';LL EX[LODE. WILL THE COUSINS GET TO BE IN ON THE PLOT/??

ARE THEY GONNA SIDE WITH THE COURT OF WONDER?!?!? THE PVP POTENTIAL?!?!?!?

i could shit, myself. thanks for reading im going to die

#acofaf spoilers #acofaf #LOSING MY MIIIIIND!!!!!! #void.txt

[kurorealciel]

Red flag. The last chapter is a big ass massive crimson red flag.

#cough bard is gonna die cough

[cynettic]

Burning Things with Genshin Impact Characters

Summary - Burning things together, escaping burning buildings, and raiding Hilichurl camps <3 Ahh, the epitome of love.

Pairings - Chaotic Reader x Albedo / Venti / Ayaka / Scaramouche

Warnings - Mentions of fire, alcohol, suggestive themes, and uhm- ✨ c h a o s ✨

A/N - Bro- this is just my mental break after writing 6.9k of smut in my last post ;-; And my next two posts are supposed to be for Genshin women and their smut so… I need some cute fluff before I get into that.

Albedo

“Y/n… calm down.”

Urgent eyes darting over the vicinity of your apartment, you hardly spared the light haired boy a glance. “‘Calm down?’” You asked incredulously, flapping your arms around as if that would solve the issue of smolk. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed yet, but our house is ‘burning.’” The bits of ash stung your arms, smoke seething against your eyes.

“I’m aware, I’m just asking you to get off the windowsill.”

Looking down at your already prepped foot right on the metal of the only opening the room, you flashed him a glare. “Uhm… no? I’ll have you know I have things to do and places to be, I’m a very important-”

“‘Y/n,’” Albedo interrupted, exasperated. “Please, come here.”

“No!” You shot back, “‘You’ come here, you aren’t going down in flames with your lab experiment. No matter how important it was.”

You could slowly see the patience from Albedo’s face melt away. An incredible feat, it was far too bad you didnt have the time to admire his ticked off face. “And you plan to jump off and break a couple bones?

“Better than death by fire.”

This time, the alchemist simply pointed to the experiment table, unable to form words.

“Yes and? I already know you messed up your experiment.”

“And,” he continued, irritated. “The table is the only ‘damn’ thing on fire. ‘The only thing on fire.’ The entirety of the house is just ‘dandy.’ Now help me put it out.”

You removed your foot of the ledge. “Oh, now that you mention it…”

Albedo put a hand to his head, sigh escaping as he rubbed his temples. “You’re almost worse than Klee… no, scratch that. You’re worse. Klee wouldn't have run away, she has the decency to stick around and out the fire out.”

“I thought it as a life threatening situation!”

“Mhm,” he hummed, displeased. “Whatever you say, get over here.”

Venti

Your drunk figure stumbled across the plain of grass, arms outstretched as you spun around. The wind rushed past your face, cool against the heat that ran through your veins. You felt dizzy, the world spinning in circles around you.

“Hey!” You spun around, foot sliding around the grass as you struggled to keep yourself from falling back. “You- you over there.”

“Yes?” The bard spoke, whisking the alcohol bottle in his hand in circles. He too had chugged a few too many bottles, but nothing to get him as wasted as you were at the moment. “And I do have a name you know- I’m aware you’re drunk, but it still hurts to know you’ve forgotten it~”

Squinting your eyes, you racked your mind for a name. “Oh.. uh…” It took only a moment till the name flashed in your name, and with a giggle, you turned back around. “Venti!”

“Yes?” He responded, this time with a wide grin.

All that stretched in front of the two of you was a wide field of grass, a grand tree, and a hilichurl camp. The two of you were too far away to quickly make it to the tree, and far enough not to arouse any suspicion with the monsters.

Of course your focus was on the hilichurl encampment.

“Look!” You pointed to the wooden pillars perched upright, two or three hilichurls dancing around a fire. “Lets destroy it!”

Venti nearly choked on the beverage in his mouth, swallowing it before he let out a chuckle. “Destroy it?” he repeated bemused, staring at your knocked up state. “I’d be surprised if you managed to make your way there-”

As if to prove him wrong, you started sprinting.

“Uh oh- hey! That wasnt what I meant!!” And he was sent racing after you.

By the time you made it to the camp, the Hilichurls had taken notice of you. All three of them standing up with some kind of weapon in hand. Your joyous laugh sent shivers down their spine, wobbly walk making them back up.

You were ‘scaring’ them.

“C’mere,” you cooed, arms wide. “I don’t bite.”

“Yes you do,” Venti mumbled once catching up to you. Too low for your ears to catch.

When the hilichurls didnt move, you whirled around to grab the vodka from his hand. A high percentage of course, Venti couldnt get drunk on normal wine or too low of a vodka. With a squeak of surprise, he reached for the bottle.

But it was too late.

You’d throw the bottle right at the hilichurls, who dashed away right at that moment. They abandoned camp and sprinted towards the meadow to find some refuge in the trees.

But that wasnt the end of the chaos.

Oh no, the bottle just ‘had’ to spill its contents onto the grass. And well, knock over a torch light stand while it was at it, which meant what? Fire.

“Its burning!”

“Oh dear…”

Venti pulled you away from the camp, sending a gust of wind to pick up the remainder of whatever was burning and put it out. “What am I gonna do with you…” he whispered in a groan. You happily skipped alongside him, giggling at his remark. “My little menace.”

He made a mental note not to bring you to the tavern again.

Side note - No Hilichurls were harmed during the raid-

Ayaka

“‘I’m saving her.”’

Hanging on a tree just beside the Kamisato residency, you and Thoma crouched on a single branch, tipping from side to side to regain balance before falling. That wasn’t the main issue, because just beside you was Ayaka, trapped in a burning building as she frantically tried to put the fire out.

“I’m her bodyguard,” Thoma beside you seethed, pushing you lightly to get you to move. “Therefore its my jobs to protect her, move.”

You shoved back, “And she’s the girl I love, got an issue with that?” You stuck your tongue out, “Or maybe you’re just ‘jealous’, wanna play hero and get her to fall in love? Too bad, you know we’re a thing, get over it.”

“Do you ‘want’ me to hurt you?”

“No thanks, save that for your new girlfriend and your bsdm kinks.”

“HEY- I DONT HAVE-”

But you’d already jumped, grabbing with both hands onto the window ledge and hoisting yourself up. The smoke hit you, burning your eyes and making your nose scrunch up in distaste. If this was your first reaction- how was Ayaka?!

You looked around, spotting the girl trying to put out the fire. It wasnt a big one, in fact it was just the cooking stove and a tinge of the carpet was on actual fire. The rest was just too much smoke, and a coughing Ayaka spilling water over everything.

Racing over, you began stomping on the flames of the carpet. Noticing you, she put her attention on the stove, and the two of you managed to clear away all the fire in no time.

It was when she put her hand over her mouth to cough that you realized you needed to get her out of there. Picking her up with ease, you cradled her in your arms as you dashed to the window. You didnt want to know what the rest of the house, and if there was any more fire, Thoma could put it out right?

Unfortunately for you, that wasnt even your main worry as you made it to the window. Water had somehow made it just below the windowsill, and instead of jumping out with precision, you slipped you with Ayaka in your arms, screaming out in surprise.

So you did all you could do, tuck her in your arms with your back to the ground and hoped you didnt die.

“‘Umph’- holy you’re heavy.”

You weren’t dead but…

‘Being in Thoma’s arms is worse.’

His face said the same, so he dropped you and instead held Ayaka in his arms. You watched as his face morphed into one of worry and compassion, “Princess- are you alright?”

“I was the one who caught her!” You blurted from your position on the ground, stumbling up to stand.

“And I caught both of you,” he corrected, flashing her a grin before giving you a look of distaste. “By accident, it was by pure luck that you happened to be holding onto her.”

You flashed him the middle finger, “Well your jobs done, saved the day, now fuck off.”

“‘You’ fuck off.”

“You have no reason to be here.”

“And leave Ayaka with an incapable fool? How did you slip out of a ‘window?’”

“Water you dumbass, now let go of her before I beat the shit out of you-“

“Ha- I’d like to see you try.”

Meanwhile, Ayaka rest cradled against Thoma’s chest, a look that your bickering was getting to her, and that she was seriously getting ticked off.

“Can you both just ‘shut up?’”

Scaramouche

Everything was ‘burning.’

Scarlet flames licking the wooden planks, crackling as splintered logs came crashing down and silenced by the background screams. Chaos strewn from side to side, a contrast from the normal pace of your footsteps, the calm collected look on your face.

“That was fun,” you simply stated to the boy beside you, squeezing his hand. “We should do it again some other time.”

He squeezed your hand back, a gesture far beyond him. However, he didnt reply, just walking alongside you with your hands interlocked and casually walking away from the crime scene.

Side note - you could really tell I got hit by writers block on the last one ;-;

#genshin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact hc #genshin impact oneshots #genshin impact oneshot #genshin impact fanfiction #genshin impact venti #genshin impact ayaka #genshin impact thoma #genshin impact albedo #genshin impact scaramouche #venti x reader #ayaka x reader #scaramouche x reader #albedo x reader #genshin fluff #writers block #cynshealthysfw #writing #anime

[shivada-jade]

magical mischief (2)

hogwarts!au

character(s): diluc ➡ mentions: kaeya, sucrose, childe, venti, baal, diona warning(s): swearing <3

notes: it was supposed to be diluc, zhongli, and thoma but diluc's unexpectedly got longer than i hoped oOPS so i made a separate one for zhongli and thoma

part 1: kaeya, childe, albedo

gryffindor!

diluc

everyone knows of the gryffindor prefect. some people would mistake him as ravenclaw for being so studious; some people would mistake him for slytherin for being so closed off. in his first year of hogwarts, people often mistook him as hufflepuff for being friendly, overly polite, and outgoing. the hufflepuff mistake changed when he turned sixteen.

no one knows what happened to his sudden change of personality. no one but kaeya and a strange, childhood, ravenclaw friend that works with another even stranger ravenclaw.

sucrose pushes her glasses up, watching you create another explosion in her room.

you cough, wiping off the ashes from your face. the black smudges on your face don't go away. sucrose hands you a handkerchief and you gratefully accept it, finally getting the grime off.

"project sixty-two oh-eight is unsuccessful." the mint haired girl notes in a journal. "moving on to..."

you tilt your head, giving her a nod to go on but she stares at the space behind you. you turn and see kaeya, cracking open the door with a quiet knock. you frown, his uncharacteristic actions feel so weird. he usually just blasts open the door with a flick of his wand and sashays inside.

"kaeya?" you ask after apologizing to sucrose for interrupting her. "what's up?"

the slytherin clears his throat, opening the door more widely. "may i have a moment of your time? preferably not here, though."

he's so... formal. unlike himself.

you wave goodbye to sucrose and promise her to do another experiment next time then direct your attention back to the boy in front of you. "sure, outside?"

he nods. with a swish of his robes, he walks out. you note his posture is so unlike him. his strides are more rigid, less carefree. it's like a comparison from a beauty model to an uptight CEO.

he leads you right in a place where you can see the black lake. it's awfully farther than you expected. you thought he was going to lead to to the court yard, or at least the slytherin common room.

"kaeya, you're not acting like yourself." you comment.

"haha!" an airy laugh escapes from someone. you jolt, surprised from the unexpected guest. you feel two hands clamp your shoulders. "you're absolutely right, my dear."

you knit your brows, walking away from kaeya and... diluc. you slap a hand over your mouth. "wait, diluc- did you just laugh?!" did he just call you 'my dear' with a peppy tone

kaeya grumbles in displeasure. his arms cross while his brother leans on him with a carefree attitude.

you make an 'o' shape with your lips, piecing the clues together. "oh.. oh." you try to remain stoic and serious about the situation, seeing how uncomfy kaeya- no- how uncomfy diluc is.

you gasp out laughing, clutching your stomach. you crouch on the ground unable to control your laughs and look up to the brothers with tears in your eyes, "oh- please! you've switched bodies! how?!"

no wonder the slytherin had been acting all curt and polite. diluc in kaeya's body pinches the bridge of his nose. "the new first year did this," he starts to explain. "took one look at me and said, 'i will destroy the wine industry!' i don't even know how the kid knows of my family's business in the muggle world."

"placed a spell on us with weird words while having a quidditch practice match," kaeya finishes. "but really, who doesn't know of the winery? even the purest of purebloods know of it."

kaeya (still in diluc's body) looks at the red portion of his robes with a scrunched up nose. you're unable to tell if he hates how the robe feels on him. or if he hates wearing gryffindor's colours.

you hum, scratching your head. "you want me to undo the spell, right?"

"if it isn't a problem," diluc presses his lips together. with one glance at your unsure face, his shoulders droop. "you don't know how, do you..."

you smile sympathetically. "i'll try my best to undo it, but just in case, we need to find that first year, to the source itself"

kaeya raises his arms behind his now red hair, "great! it feels so weird to be seeing with both my eyes. or well, with both diluc eyes. the kid's name is diona. she's also in slytherin like me. diluc will lead you to her."

"what? why me," diluc asks.

"because you're the one who looks like me, duh! i cant go in the slytherin common room if i look like gryffindor prefect. just bring [y/n] with you. childe can also help-"

diluc glowers, "you still hang around that scum?"

"you still keep that vase?" kaeya throws sweet poison to diluc.

you chuckle nervously when you see them bring their wands out. "so, diona? let's find her."

kaeya raises a brow, and smirks. "toodles~! i dont want to spend another minute in this grump's body. that donna girl keeps trying to give me a pie- i dont want seven different pies." he wriggles his fingers to show his goodbye.

you shiver. it's so weird to see diluc- when you know diluc isn't actually diluc in his body. but his face keeps smiling and showing emotions with kaeya's soul inside. it's weird to not see only little quirks of his mouth or his typical sighs.

but really though, you could stare at kaeya's new face. it's strange seeing diluc with a scheming face: the one kaeya typically wears

"please at least try to not get into any trouble..." diluc purses his lips. "i'll try to act like you- you try to act like me."

you stare at diluc with owlish eyes. diluc? acting like kaeya?

it seems kaeya has the same reaction, because he freezes. luckily for him, he's quick witted, "oh? act like you?" he musters the grouchiest face and crosses his arms. "hello, i am diluc ragnvindr. i am a grouchy gryffindor. i hate kaeya. i hate lots of slytherins, especially the beautiful, gorgeous asshole named kaeya," he praises himself.

diluc fights the urge to throw him into the black lake. you laugh, dragging diluc away and leading him to where the slytherin common room is.

"i've only been here once, but i am acquainted with childe, so he can show us around." you bump his side playfully and stand outside the slytherin common room.

"CHILDE." you yell with your hands amplifying the noise.

"WHADDUP SHAWTY," you hear a shout from behind you.

you nod to diluc, encouraging him to somehow find a way to get the slytherin password from childe. you know he hates him, but you want to see dilucs words come true. you want to see how he acts as kaeya.

he lets out a shaky sigh and smiles so casually. the smile is so pretty, it hurts. it's a shame he doesn't do that with his own face.

childe beams seeing the two of you, "hey comrades! what are you all standing around for?" he prods around, eying diluc then snaps his fingers as if realizing something.

you wait a bit for diluc to say something, or act more, but it seems he's done his acting gig and goes straight to the point. "what's the password?"

you deadpan. childe's gonna question him now and he'd have to say he's actually dilu-

"yeah sure no problem! it's 'reckoning'"

diluc says the word to a blank wall and enters through the door. you squint your eyes and make a face at childe. "you're up to something, i know."

he shrugs and pushes you in after diluc. "tell diona i said hi."

...

you sit at the lounge, waiting for diluc to show up with diona. your brows crease, because diluc is right. childe knows something others don't. you don't recall telling childe you were trying to find diona.

you doubletake, seeing a hufflepuff drinking an absurd amount of butterbeer from who knows where. they hang their arms around a slender, purple haired slytherin who tries to push him off with disgust.

what is venti doing hanging out with the slytherin queen. he'll die-

"venti," you hiss, reaching out to try and let him live a bit longer.

he hiccups and waves you over. he 'whispers' to the slytherin next to him. oh he's in trouble now. "psst, baal. is that the one all the slytherins are talking about?" his whispers are shouts at this point.

the slytherins at the lounge freeze, hoping you havent caught on yet.

baal hits venti's head with a hand, "shut up. you're ruining the plan."

you snort seeing venti spill his drink on his clothes.

"but baal," venti downs what's left in his mug. "if that grumpy gryffindor wont confess to [y/n] then how on earth is the plan even going to work? he barely even talks to [y/n] these days because hee likes [y/n] too much." he says as if you're not in the room. he continues babbling even after baal kicks his shins, "kaeya's plan won't work if diona-"

oh shit so it's kaeya's plan and every slytherin is on it

baal drags venti out of the common room and throws him out and all the other slytherins hastily leave to their own rooms.

diluc coughs from behind you, now transformed to his normal self and with who you assume is diona. pink peppers his face while he tried to cover his face with his fiery hair. "um, i found diona. she swapped me back."

diona sticks her tongue out. "that ugly kaeya made a deal with me on something and i had to oblige! it's honestly so pathetic how you can't confess so deal or no deal: i had to do it, but the uglier bard ruined the whole plan so i turned you back."

diluc dusts imaginary dust off his cloak and grasps your hands. he looks down to his feet, still unsure of whether to do this or not. "well, you heard it all. it's a shame it couldn't be from me but-" he rambles. with other's he's confident, but with you he's a mess. "i hope you can accept my feelings. if not i understand, i'll go on with my day and you'll never have to see me."

he holds his breath, silently quivering with the lack of response you give. a hand lifts his chin up and he stares at your eyes, nervous.

you didn't say anything, but you smile and give his the warmest hug.

he knows the answer now.

he wraps his arms back, silently thanking kaeya for his idiotic plan. it's stupid, but it worked in the end.

BONUS!:

"KAEYA I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS"

kaeya swirls a gold goblet with sparkling grape juice inside. he wolfishly grins and holds his cup up with a hand. "a toast for master diluc! for finally confessing, if people can even call it that."

he lowers it, placing it on his lips but never drinking it. he grins under the cup seeing diluc's wand in his hand flaming red.

"it's not even my fault." kaeya starts to explain his bullshit to diluc, "you can blame yourself. honestly, it gets tiring seeing you pine for so long and avoiding them like you weren't childhood friends with them."

the tips of diluc's ears turn red, not wanting to agree with his brother, but it was true. he was hopeless in the romantic department by himself. he can reject thousands and millions of people. he can have who ever he wants, but you aren't "whoever." you're the most special someone to him and that made him scared.

kaeya hands his drink to diluc, "do i get a thank you?"

diluc scoffs, yet accepts the drink. "thank you," he quietly mutters.

part 3: thoma, zhongli

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnivindr x reader

[cleverhideoutchild]

I definitely didn't accidentally posted this while it's still unfinished, definitely not. 😌✌✨

This is based on a dream I had a few weeks ago btw, and believe me when I say it ✨hurts✨.

Masterlist rules prompts list

I recommend listening to a sad song while reading this

Fandom : Genshin Impact

Type : Short fic

Pairings : Venti x GN!Reader (not mention)

Genre : pure aNGST- (I think)

Includes : Venti, Zhongli, Traveler!Aether, Paimon

Warnings : Mentions of blood and war, death, OOC (?), maybe some typos, cheesy (???), a bit of self-indulgent

Fic under the cut

May the wind carries your name.

Red. Red everywhere. Everywhere and wherever you look is painted with the color red. The grass, the dirt path, the sky, and the stomach of your lover.

It all happens to fast for you to comprehand. The first second you both are fighting side by side, and the second, he was crouch over while holding his bleeding stomach.

"Venti... Please hold on, t-the others are on their way.." You whisper to the young bard who you're currently cradling in your arms. Blood trailing down from the corner of his lip.

His eyes. The same one that you adore so much, they don't seems as bright as usual anymore. And soon enough, those same pair of eyes will lose it's shine.

Yet, even now, he still manage to give you that smile. The same smile that manage to capture your heart everytime you sees it. You avert your eyes away from him to prevent yourself from bursting a waterfall.

"Hey... Look at me.." He cupped your cheek with his free hand. Left with no other choice, you force yourself to look at him with tearful eyes. His eyes soften after seeing your eyes, he doesn't like seeing you cry because of him.

"It's okay... Please don't.. Cry..." Venti tries to smile at you again but ended up coughing and hurting himself more. You pulls him closer to you, praying to whoever is listening for help to come soon.

Despite all of your praying, both you and Venti knows, there's no more hope. He have to leave soon. With realization finally hitting you, you began crying softly. A few tears, falling on your lover's face.

Venti manage to give your arm a little squeeze of reassurance, smiling softly at you. "Hey.. It's okay..." Venti whisper softly to you. Those words ended up making you cry harder because you know, he too knows, nothing is okay.

"How c-can you say that...? Y-you're dying, damnit!" You sobbed into the crook of his neck. You felt so useless. Your lover is litterly dying in your arms, and all you can do is cry until he took his last breath. Why can't you be useful for once-

"But hey... Look at the bright side.. For sure, t-the two of... Us will be.. Reunited. S-somewhere.. Up there... Right?" He whisper, his voice seemingly softening each second.

You looked at him, eyes full of tears and adoration. "Right... Even when you're gone, our hearts will still be one." Your recite the same words he had once told you, smiling ever so softly at him.

"Ehe... Seems like.. You still remember... That." Venti smiles, his eyes and limbs starting to droop slightly. "I love you.. I'll see you... Up there. Please... Took your.. Time, my cecilia..." And with that, his hand that was previously resting on your cheek falls limb, unmoving.

He's gone. The light in your life has been taken away from you. And you can't bring him back anymore. You gave him one last peck on his forehead before resting yours against his.

"I love you too... Please wait for me. I'll see you soon." You sobbed softly, hugging him close to your chest. His body has gone slightly cold by this point. Behind you, you can hear footsteps coming.

"Y/n!" Ah... They arrived a little bit late. You slightly turns your head to see Zhongli and Aether running to your direction while Paimon floats behind them. When they're close enough to see who's laying in your arms, they froze in their spot.

"Barbatos..." Zhongli walks closer to stand beside you while you turns to look at your dead lover's face once more. He looks so peaceful in this state, you thought.

"Y/n... Sorry we're late..." Aether whisper softly as if he's afraid to break the atmosphere. "It's okay... At least he can rest peacefully now." You gave the boy a small smile. Zhongli stays silent, opting to rest his hand on your shoulder instead. Even Paimon is quiet.

Dear god above, when will this war every stopped? How many more people is going to die? You wished all of you can go back to the time where everything is peaceful. Just you and your lover, laying down on the grass, soft winds blowing your hairs and clothes.

Oh how much you missed those days. Ah... But unfortunately things changed. You need to move forward. For your lover. For everyone. You need to keep on fighting. You need to reach victory and freedom. This war is far from over.

MIHOYO PLEASE DON'T MAKE THIS AN ACTUALLY THING, I'M GONNA CRY IF THIS BECAME CANON-

#genshin impact #genshin x y/n #genshin imagine #genshin impact venti #genshin impact angst #genshin x reader #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact aether #genshin impact paimon #venti x y/n #venti x reader #fanfic #genshin headcanons #y/n #reader #x reader #genshin impact zhongli #please don't make this canon #angst

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Whump you say? Geralt gets Hanahaki

I’ve been waiting for you, Anon. I’ve been waiting for this prompt specifically and boy when I tell you I might have cried writing it...

2k ish (a little less) words long. Idk why y’all were worried, it’s me. It’s gonna have a happy ending.

tw: Hanahaki, blood mention, illness, angst with a happy ending, whump with a happy ending ---

It had started up just before they parted ways for the winter; Geralt had quietly coughed a handful of rose petals into the corner of his cloak and hidden them from sight as Jaskier gave him their yearly parting embrace. “See you in the spring, Geralt!”

“Hmm.”

You might not ever see me again, actually, the Witcher thought. He tried not to let anything show on his face; not his fear and certainly not his longing, but he ached to tell Jaskier that he loved him and that he’d miss the bard’s presence through the long and dreary cold of the winter months. Geralt also knew that if he told Jaskier the truth about his feelings that he may never set eyes on the bard again anyway, regardless of how the disease currently wracking his body developed over their time apart. He was sure that Vesemir could identify whatever the strange illness was; the old swordmaster might even have a cure ready to go in the old storeroom. If not, they could send for Triss. 

“Safe travels.”

“And you as well,” Geralt nodded curtly. He mounted Roach with all his usual grace and ease, biting back another cough and tasting the sickly sweet floral note of rose rising up his throat to coat his tongue again. 

---

“Fuck,” Vesemir sighed. “It’s Hanahaki disease, Geralt. It’s not going to be easy to cure now that the pass is full of snow.”

“What’s Hanahaki disease?”

“It’s-” the eldest Wolf Witcher scrubbed his hand over his bearded face and took a moment to compose himself. He’d seen it happen before. He’d seen human bodies buried in the ground with entire root systems crawling from their chest cavities. He’d watched young men and women alike cough entire violet or rose or daisy buds from their mouths while they shivered with fever and seemingly unending pain, but a Witcher? Vesemir hadn’t even thought it was possible for a Witcher to contract such a frivolously deadly illness. “I don’t know exactly how to explain this to you, Geralt.”

“I won’t go screaming into the hills, if that’s what you’re afraid of,” his middle-child joked, “I can’t run very far anymore without a coughing fit.”

“I can’t send for Triss or Yennefer, either. They won’t be able to do anything,” Vesemir spoke calmly and evenly. Geralt, propped against some pillows on adoptive-father-enforced bed rest raised an eyebrow. “It’s a disease that eats at you from the inside out. It latches on to, uhm, romantic feelings and grows with them until it overtakes its host completely. Or until the host, uh… confronts those feelings head on and admits them to the object of their affection.”

“So this is…” Geralt’s eyes were wide and terrified. The eldest Wolf had never seen the stoic boy look quite so scared before, and he’d seen him go through the Trials. “This is going to kill me, is what you’re saying.”

“Who are you in love with, you stubborn oaf!?” Lambert cried, marching into the room from where he’d been lurking in the hall. He startled the other two Wolves and Geralt coughed out another handful of petals. The blood that came with them was surprisingly new. 

“What do you mean!?”

“He means,” Vesemir said, as slowly as possible (so that even the great Geralt of Rivia would understand his situation), “That until you tell this person how you feel, the flowers inside you will continue to grow and dig their roots in and, if you never tell them how you feel at all, you will eventually die.”

“Then I guess my fate is sealed,” Geralt smiled sadly, settling himself back against the pillows. “My time as a Witcher is up. Coughing up flowers isn’t the worst way to go, all things considered.”

Lambert growled angrily. “I’m not ready to lose my brother yet, Geralt, so just tell us who you’re pining after and we’ll go fetch her back!”

“No.”

“Why the fuck not?!”

Geralt, growing increasingly more feverish and already exhausted from everything that had happened that afternoon, closed his eyes. “Because he deserves better than me, Lambert. He deserves so much more than I could ever give him and I’m not about to steal him away like a selfish ass and force my feelings onto him for my own sake. I’d rather die.”

“Self-sacrificing bastard,” the youngest of the Wolf Witchers snarled, storming from the room. “Ass! Cock! Fool!”

Vesemir could only nod his agreement and follow silently after.

---

Jaskier read the letter once.

Then he read it again.

After a third time through he was sure that he hadn’t misunderstood the contents.

Dear Jaskier (aka Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove, Prof. of the Seven Liberal Arts at Oxenfurt),

I am Eskel, brother to Geralt of the Wolf Witcher School at Kaer Morhen. I write to you now to ask for your presence at the keep. Geralt has fallen gravely ill and will not likely make it through the season. He does not know that I have written to you, but as his best friend and companion on the Path, I thought it my duty to invite you to see him one last time before he’s gone for good. He’s loathe to admit it, but he misses you and fears for your safety come springtime.

Sincerely,

Eskel of the Wolf School

Somewhere beneath the bright embroidery of his doublet and the hand-woven muslin of his chemise, Jaskier’s flighty, deeply-loving heart shattered into a million pieces. 

He grabbed his heaviest woolen cloak from its peg near the door and made for the stables at once.

---

“Geralt!”

The White Wolf opened his eyes a sliver to confirm that he wasn’t hallucinating again; ah yes. What a lovely last dream to have before I die. Standing in the middle of his bedroom at Kaer Morhen, covered with still-melting snow, was Jaskier. The bard’s blue eyes were brimming with tears and his bottom lip was wobbling violently as he gazed upon the Witcher’s withering form.

“Geralt, what’s wrong? Your father and brothers sort of explained it to me but I’m still not sure what’s happening. You’re dying?”

“Don’t worry, bard,” Geralt smiled. A loud, sudden cough wracked his body and he bent over double, spitting a blood-spattered but fully-bloomed rose out into his cupped palm. He laughed joylessly and tossed the bloom onto his bedside table. “I’ll be out of your hair, soon. Won’t this be a last ballad to write, a wolf dying as he’s eaten by flowers?”

“I don-”

“Hush,” Geralt rasped. Jaskier dropped his cloak to the ground uncaringly and rushed to his Witcher’s side. He sat on the edge of the mattress and took Geralt’s closest hand in his, grasping the appendage to his chest and sobbing into the sword-calloused skin like his tears might save his best friend’s life. “Don’t be sad, Jaskier.”

“I am sad, Geralt! I’m absolutely fucking terrified and heartbroken and crushed! Vesemir said you could heal this at any time but you just… you just won’t because you’re stubborn and an idiot and the sweetest goddamn man I’ve ever met in my life! How dare you tell me goodbye when you are perfectly capable of fixing this problem yourself! How could you promise to see me in the spring and then break your word by dying well before the grass turns green again?! You bastard!”

“You won’t miss me after another year passes,” Geralt reassured him, flexing the hand still held tight in Jaskier’s grip. “You won’t even remember me by the time the first daisies spring up.”

“How dare you,” the bard cried again. He pressed a nervous kiss to the tip of the Witcher’s pointer finger before letting go completely and dropping his head into his own hands. “How dare you say those things to me when you know full well that I love you with all my stupid, fragile mortal heart. You asshole.”

“Wh...what?” 

“I love you, Geralt!” The Witcher stared up at his friend with nothing but confusion written across his handsome features. Jaskier reached out, wiping a smear of blood away from the corner of Geralt’s mouth as tenderly as any maiden in any of the bard’s favorite romance novels. “I love you and I’ll never forgive you for letting yourself die on me like this.”

Geralt blushed. He stammered. He coughed up two or three more bloody roses and Jaskier tossed them all into the fire with rage blazing in his cornflower irises. 

“I love you more than I’ve ever loved anything on this gods-forsaken Continent and now you’re going to take yourself away because you’re, what, scared of something? Is it Yennefer? If she’s refusing to help you then I’ll ride all the way to Vengerberg by daybreak and then I’ll break all her fucking fi-”

“I love you, too.”

“What?” Jaskier asked, stopped mid-rant and mid-thought by the Witcher’s sudden admission. “What did you just say to me, Geralt? If I didn’t misunderstand, you said you loved me too.”

“I did. I do! I have loved you for a rather long time, actually.”

“Well, I’m glad we’ve settled that,” Vesemir said from the doorway. He turned on his heel and disappeared. “See you both for breakfast tomorrow, I’m sure. Well... maybe breakfast is being a bit optimistic. I’ll see you for lunch.”

“What did he mean?” the bard asked. His eyes flitted between the empty doorway and Geralt’s guilty grimace. “What the fuck did Vesemir mean when he said he’d see us at lunch?! You’re still clearly dying and I-”

Geralt felt his fever receding and coughed experimentally. There were only a few brown, half-dried petals that fell from his lips. No blooms. He coughed again and nothing came out of his mouth at all. He grinned and laughed, tugging Jaskier up onto the bed and against his broad chest. “Vesemir was right!”

“What the fuck is going on?!” the bard begged. His hands twisted into the neckline of Geralt’s shirt, holding him still and steady. Blue bore into gold with such heated intensity that the Witcher thought he might pass out regardless of his recently healed disease, “What just happened!?”

“I- I told you I loved you and it cured the Hanahaki!”

“You had fucking Hanahaki and I was the cause of it? Oh Geralt, I’m so sorry! I should have noticed sooner! I should hav- Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“I didn’t think you loved me back.”

“You didn- Geralt, have you been paying any sort of attention for the past seven or so years? I follow you everywhere, I bandage your wounds, I put food on your plate and a pillow under your head whenever we get the chance. I bathe you and mend your clothes when your fingers are too stiff from practicing your forms to do it yourself… you utter fool. You buffoon. You great, dumb, goofy, idioti-”

He was cut off by Geralt bringing their mouths together with such gentle but insistent pressure that all Jaskier could do was melt against him. His hands unwound from the shirt and stabilized against the Witcher’s pectorals instead. He sighed into Geralt’s mouth, swallowing down the happy sounds his dearest Witcher made in return. When they were finished pouring out their affections they sat, breathless, curled against the pillows of Geralt’s enormous bed. 

A large pointer finger slipped beneath Jaskier’s chin and tilted his face up, locking their gazes, “This isn’t how I wanted you to meet my family or see Kaer Morhen for the first time, but I’m glad you came. I know the journey through the snow couldn’t have been easy, even though I’m sure there was some magical assistance.”

“For you, my love, I’d travel the pass barefoot.”

“You’d die of exposure.”

“Not if your life was on the line,” the bard murmured against those flower-chapped lips. “For you, Geralt, I could survive anything. Just as you must swear from this moment on to survive whatever you can to make it back to me.”

“Will you go back to the academy until spring?”

“I’m never leaving your side again, Geralt of Rivia. Come flora or fauna, you’re stuck with me for good.”

“Hmm. Good.”

“Just… Just don’t bring me flowers any time soon.”

#geraskier #geraskier whump #hanahaki disease #hanahaki #geralt whump #bounceacoinoffyouranons #sick geralt #sickfic #clueless jaskier #clueless geralt #eskel #lambert #vesemir #winter at kaer morhen #the kaer morons #geralt/jaskier #geralt is an idiot #idiots to lovers #blood tw #body horror tw #angst #angst with a happy ending #bouncey's fluff addiction #geraskier fluff #first kiss #love confessions #near death experiences

[razmahdaz-art]

Okay so, A Thought I had about the season 2 reuniting of Jaskier and Geralt and how it would go.

So as many people know/Headcanon, Jaskier travelled off and on with Geralt for a long time. I had the thought that he, in his off time, he could have been a student/apprentice to a professor at some fancy college or institute. Then we get to the time before the mountain scene and Jaskier is all "Alright, this is it. I'm gonna confess, its gonna be fine, and then we can just run off together." Jaskier is just...so committed to this.

And then it goes down. And then hes lost for a bit, a sort of like "well. Now what?" Kinda time. This boy is good at Literature and Philosophy and is that's it! He cant travel without Geralt protecting him and gods know he would die if he went back to his family, so he goes BACK to University and is like "fuck it. I'll do what I do best and talk, and grade people for if they listen or not."

Let's fast forward a few years. Geralt, Ciri, and Yennefer have to research some age old monster/god/curse and they're just so lost and dont know where to go, so they head to the local college to borrow look through their tomes of info and ask some professors their thoughts.

They walk in, and ask for help and someone says "I'm sorry, but most of our professors are out or busy right now. Professor Pankratz can assist you though, I'm sure. He knows the library better than anyone!"

Geralt is pissed. Jaskier never spoke a lot of his father, but from the little tidbits, he could gleam as to why Jaskier was so far from home. And hearing the words Professor Pancratz and knowing that Jaskier's father was an intellectual himself, This Witcher is ready to murder a man in front of his own students and he'll do it just so that his bard will never fall to the hands of misery again, if the family were to ever meet again.

They are lead down halls and corridors, a winding maze of classes in session or rooms dedicated to sciences or arcane research. They eventually get to a classroom, a boisterous voice of confidence and enthusiasm behind it with the light hums of students asking questions or reacting to the words.

"Step in, but please be quiet. His class is almost finished," the assistant says before she opens the door quietly. The trio walk in, Geralts hand already in a fist so clenched, you could here his knuckles cracking.

But then he looks over, a man of slight physical attributes, his hands moving to accentuate his words, a voice like a lark. He had aged, sure, and the beginnings of a beard had begun to take shape on his almost permanently young face, but there he was.

Jaskier, projecting a tale of tragedy and succeeding at getting his students to get involved.

And then their eyes meet. And Jaskier freezes and stumbles over his words and awkwardly coughs for a moment before closing the book and placing it on his desk.

"You all are very lucky that a Witcher came to save you from my lesson," he tells his students. They all, an entire class room filled with people, look directly at Geralt in awe and excitement, words of gossip and wonder waving through the crowd.

"Alright, Alright! Leave him alone. If you all promise not to bother the four of us, early dismissal for the day," Jaskier bargains. In a rush, all of them start packing their things and they all just file out, attempting to catch sly glimpses of The Witcher and his companions, whispers immodestly starting about if Professor Pankratz knows him.

After everyone leaves and the room is as silent as a crypt, Jaskier just stands and stares at Geralt, his arms crossed and his expression one that he would give a student if they handed in late work.

"So this is where you ended up," Geralt said, amazed by what the bard had become.

"I said I wanted to find what pleases me," Jaskied starts. "Turns out teaching was a close second to travelling with a Witcher. Whom, I may say, has a lot of Gull showing his face around my classroom after he proclaimed his hatred for me."

Geralt looked at the floor and then back up at the bard, words just starting to fail him. Except for a few, a sentence that he had thought about every day since Jaskier had said them.

"And Yet," he began, walking towards his bard. "Here we are."

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher netflix #jaskier #julian pankratz #headcanon #idk man #just silver fox jaskier #but also? #feels #reuniting #just blabbing

[jaskierswolf]

The Howling of Wolves pt. 3/3

TW for the whole story: Angst with happy ending, kidnapping, mentioned previous child abuse, mentioned torture (but off page), Major character injury and recovery, canon typical violence

Previous

They were riding towards Lettenhove Castle as fast as they could. Word had obviously gotten out about the pack of witchers charging across the Continent. At every village and town they passed through there was a gathering of people waiting to watch them gallop through, kicking up a cloud of dirt behind them. It was a peculiar sight to see five burly witcher men, each with two swords strapped to their backs, with the exception of Aiden whose weapons were concealed, Melitele knows where.

Aiden had been a surprise blessing. The witchers of Stygga Citadel were renowned  for their involvement in human politics. They were not only monster slayers but also hired assassins, gaining a vicious reputation along the way. Aiden’s knowledge of the human’s nobility had proven invaluable. Apparently about three years ago the heir to the Lettenhove Estate, who went by the name of Julian Pankratz, had gone missing and his parents were very keen to find him again. There had been rumours about the boy’s parentage that made the Viscount fly into a rage, and even more strange had been the never ending stream of mages and sorcerers that were seen to enter the Castle.

Geralt  had to dismount when he’d heard about that, paired with the snippets that Jaskier had told him about his past and the way he’d reacted to anyone studying his abilities too hard, Geralt suddenly had a grave realisation about all that Jaskier had been through before they’d met.

He pulled Lambert from his horse and they wrestled on the ground until they were both sweaty and covered in dirt. Geralt only stopped when he had Lambert pinned underneath him, which hadn’t been easy. He was distracted and kept making mistakes. Lambert almost caught him more than once but Geralt was also angry and his rage had prevented him from allowing himself to be caught in Lambert’s grip.

Lambert eventually tapped out whilst Aiden cackled at the whole thing as Geralt stood up and stalked away. The rage was still there but he felt better for the roughhousing.

“So when do we get to wrestle?” Aiden was lying on his stomach with his chin propped up on his arms. He tilted his head and winked at Lambert who was still lying on his back and panting heavily.

“What?” Lambert gaped at the cat witcher and Geralt rolled his eyes. He gave it less than a week before the pair were fucking like rabbits.

Aiden reached out and brush Lambert’s curls away from his eyes. “You look good on your back, wolf.”

Lambert flushed darker.

“Get a room.” Eskel muttered. “Preferably far away. We don’t need a repeat of Geralt and Jaskier.”

“Oi!” Lambert growled.

Aiden grinned. “Awww, darling. They gave us their blessing.” He cooed and promptly kissed Lambert’s forehead and then jumped to his feet.

Lambert was left flailing on the floor as the rest of them moved to get back on their horses.

Geralt just shrugged and let out a long sigh. “Can it wait til we’ve found Jaskier?” He grunted.

Aiden smirked. “Of course, but I want a summer wedding.”

“WHAT?!” Lambert spluttered.

“Lambert get on your horse. We’re wasting time.” Geralt grumbled.

“We’re wasting time.” Lambert snarked. “As if you didn’t start all of this.”

“I’m finishing it!” Vesemir called over their bickering. “Let’s ride, wolves.”

Aiden scoffed. “It’s like I don’t even exist.” He sighed dramatically and Geralt’s heart clenched.

He was so like Jaskier in so many ways. Many years ago there had been a mistake in the mutagens that the Cat School used, meaning that instead of dulled emotions, like other witcher schools, they had heightened emotions. As a result Aiden shared many similarities with the flamboyant bard that Geralt adored, unfortunately with Jaskier missing, those similarities were like salt in a wound.

“You’re an honorary wolf.” Eskel laughed. “Welcome to the pack.”

Aiden blushed but hid his joy behind a smirk. “Oh yippee.” He drawled sarcastically.

_________________

It was the noise that woke Jaskier up from his restless sleep. He groaned as he tried to open his eyes but even that was a chore now. His clothes were drenched in sweat and his hair was sticking to his forehead. His lips were chapped and bleeding. The daily allowance of one cup of water was no longer enough, not when he was losing so much moisture through his skin and the constant sweating wasn’t enough to keep him cool.

He was burning up. He was now certain that he would die here. Unless he could find a way to get out of the handcuffs and away from his room then he was going to die. He’d managed it before three years ago but back then he’d had Lila’s help.

Lila wasn’t here this time.

And neither was Geralt.

He was fucked.

“Jaskier!!”

Geralt?

“Jaskier, where are you?” Geralt, definitely Geralt shouted again.

Jaskier struggled to lift his head from the floor. He winced as the room began to spin.

Fucking cock bollocks! He needed to say something. He opened his mouth but no sound came out.

Geralt…. He mouthed the word but it was no good.

“Geralt! Over here! I think I can smell him!” Eskel was here too.

Oh gods, he was saved.

He sobbed without tears as he curled up on the floor. They were here. He was going to be ok.

“Oh gods, it stinks.” Eskel grumbled as Jaskier’s bedroom door was flung open. “Shit!”

Jaskier looked up at the blond witcher and he swore that Eskel had never looked so beautiful as he did in that moment. His amber eyes were like fire and his sword clattered to the ground. Eskel had blood smeared across his cheek but it didn’t look like it was coming from the witcher.

That was the noise Jaskier had heard. The sword of wolves tearing through the castle.

“Geralt! I found him!” Eskel shouted again. “Fucking hell, bard. Look at you.”

Jaskier laughed silently and then coughed.

“Can you talk?” Eskel asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jaskier opened his mouth but no sound came out so he gave a small shake of his head, wincing at the pain in his temples.

“Jaskier!” Geralt’s voice.

And Geralt’s arms around him. “Fuck! What’s wrong with him?”

“I don’t know. He can’t talk and he stinks.”

Jaskier grimaced and tried to open his eyes again, when had they shut… he wasn’t sure.

“Jask?” Geralt’s fingers were on his cheek.

“Oh shit! I’m gonna fucking kill them, I don’t care what Vesemir says.”

“Darling, you just did.”

“Well we can get a mage to bring them back and I can kill them again.”

“Shut up!” Geralt growled. “Jaskier, look at me?”

Jaskier tried. He really did.

“Eskel what’s wrong with him?” Geralt’s voice sounded panicked as it floated through the air.

The cuffs.

They had to get the cuffs off.

It was his only hope right now. He took a long shaky breath and forced his eyes open.

Geralt was there, holding him tightly. Jaskier focussed on his lover’s embrace and used it to ground himself. He lifted his bound hands.

“Off.” He gasped, barely audible even to a witcher’s ears.

And then he passed out.

_________________

It took two witchers on his hand to break the handcuffs open. Aiden had tried to pick the lock but Geralt was impatient and all but shoved the cat witcher to the floor, earning himself a snarl from Lambert.

“Concussion.” He muttered as he strained against the metal.

Soon enough the others joined his efforts and the cuffs clattered to the ground.

“Move, Geralt.” Vesemir spoke calmly and brushed Geralt aside.

Vesemir had been in charge of their stack of non-witcher healing potions. He was least likely to tumble around whilst fighting and break the bottles. Geralt had a habit of rolling out of the way of attacks, as did Eskel. Lambert practically threw himself at his opponents, much to Vesemir’s dismay and Aiden… well none of them knew him well enough yet to judge. So Vesemir had pocketed the supplies as they jumped from their horses to launch their attack on Lettenhove Castle. Not everyone had died. The witchers only attacked those who sought to harm them, they left most of the servants in peace as they cowered under tables and in the wardrobes.

Vesemir unplugged a bottle and poured the liquid into Jaskier’s mouth. The bard choked on the potion but managed to swallow most of it. He looked terrible, gods Geralt wasn’t sure Jaskier was going to survive this. They should have contacted a mage. Potions weren’t going to be enough.

“He needs water.” Vesemir grumbled. “Lambert, fetch me some.”

“Why…” His question was cut off by a steely glare from the oldest witcher.

“Now, wolf!”

“Right.” Lambert and Aiden both went in search of water.

Geralt hugged Jaskier tighter to his chest. “Come, Jask. You can’t die. I won’t let that happen.”

“Geralt…” The word was slurred but definitely there.

“I’m here.” He brushed the sweaty strands of brunet hair away from Jaskier’s eyes.

“Love you.” Jaskier sighed wearily.

“I love you too, now come on, Jask.” Geralt all but growled. “You have to stay alive.”

“I have to shift.” Jaskier mumbled.

“Then shift.” Geralt said softly. “I’ve got you.”

“Can’t.” Jaskier mumbled. The potion was helping. His lips were already less chapped but he was still weak and Melitele knows what damage there was that Geralt couldn’t see. “This room. Dimeritium, in the walls.”

Geralt frowned and gathered Jaskier into his arms before running from the room and from the house. He didn’t stop running until they were outside where the horses were waiting patiently.

He heard the sound of the others following him but didn’t pay them any attention as he lowered Jaskier back to the floor so he could shift without worrying about the drop.

Jaskier groaned weakly and Geralt’s medallion hummed. Jaskier disappeared into his clothes.

Geralt helped to push aside the excess fabric and let out a relieved laugh when he found the bundle of fur. Jaskier wasn’t quite as energetic as he usually was but already he was away from death’s door. His coppery fur was matted and he looked like he’d been dragged behind Roach for a few miles but far less feeble than the human that had been lying in Geralt’s arms.

Jaskier scrambled up Geralt’s arm to sit on his shoulder and Geralt reached up to scratch him between the ears as the shifter nuzzled against his cheek. “You almost died Jask,” He sighed in exasperation “and you still have to be dramatic.”

The coppery ferret on his shoulder dooked and pawed at Geralt’s face.

He rolled his eyes. “It looked exactly like you and you know it.” Geralt grumbled and pulled Jaskier off his shoulder.

The fur rippled under his fingers and Geralt was pushed to the floor under the weight of the wolf that was suddenly in his arms.

“Jaskier.” He grumbled but buried his face in the shifter’s fur. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Eskel soon joined him and curled up against Jaskier’s fur. Even Vesemir stood near enough to stroke Jaskier’s head. Jaskier howled and wagged his tail. His russet fur was still matted and a mess but shifting twice already had done him a world of good. There was light back in his eyes.

“I have water!!” Lambert yelled and he ran through the front door of the castle with Aiden tailing him. “Jaskier! Fuck he’s alright!” Lambert dropped the jug he was carrying but Aiden caught it with a roll of his eyes.

Jaskier shook off Geralt and Eskel, and limped over the Lambert. Lambert wrapped his arms around Jaskier neck.

“You fucking bastard. Don’t do that again.” He grumbled and Geralt chuckled under his breath.

Jaskier licked Lambert’s face then looked up at Aiden. He growled quietly and then looked to Geralt.

“It’s ok. He’s a friend.” Geralt reassured his partner. “He has water. You need to drink.”

Jaskier nodded and padded up to the new witcher. Aiden peered at the wolf cautiously but let Jaskier nuzzle against his hand, then he helped Jaskier to drink from the jug.

“Even your boyfriend is a wolf?” Aiden laughed. “How poetic.”

Jaskier barked and tilted his head at Aiden.

“I’m a cat witcher. The superior kind, of course.” Aiden tentatively petted Jaskier’s head.

Jaskier howled and then his fur rippled once more until a cheetah stood where the wolf had once been.

Aiden’s eyes went wide and he flung his arms around Jaskier’s neck just like Lambert had done moments before. Jaskier’s tail flicked and he nuzzled against Aiden’s cheek, letting out a low rumble of a purr.

“Oh hang on!” Lambert whined. “That’s not fair. Geralt!”

Geralt rolled his eyes and pulled Lambert into a side hug, ruffling his hair. “You wanted to introduce Aiden to the pack. This is all on you.” He smirked as Lambert groaned.

“This is not what I fucking meant and you know it. Jaskier! Leave him alone, Geralt!  Control your boyfriend.” Lambert dove in between the two cats and Geralt laughed before joining them.

Soon enough all five witchers and one shifter were bundled in a pile in front of Lettenhove Castle. Vesemir sat on the floor with the spotted cat’s head in his lap and the rest of them were curled around Jaskier. It was a rare sight outside of Kaer Morhen but none of the survivors of Lettenhove dared to disturb them.

They’d learnt the hard way what it meant to mess with the wolves of Kaer Morhen. Not one of them would make that mistake again.

______

Next Story!

#the witcher #geraskier #lambert x aiden #shapeshifter!jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geraskier fanfiction #shifter!jaskier #shifter au #the howling of wolves #angst alert #happy ending #I swear it's happy at the end #you just have to get there #wolfie's witcher writing #jaskier whump

[vulturhythm]

sunday in the six-day war

“geralt,” says jaskier, late one evening, his voice delicate. “we need to head out at dawn.”

geralt turns from the fire he’s been tending in the fireplace, fear clenching tight upon his heart within seconds. he meets jaskier’s gaze, opens his mouth to speak, finds words beyond him.

his husband of ten years is sitting on the soft, well-worn sofa, watching him with eyes that are just as tender, tinged with affectionate sorrow. his hand is pressed low upon his side, covering the old scar where a manticore’s stinger punctured his flesh years before.

yennefer had done what she could, but she’d warned them both... the venom was just this side of too potent for humans.

jaskier would make it little more than a year, the venom’s path to his heart slowed by powerful enchantments, but not completely halted.

“it’s been ten months, geralt,” jaskier whispers, coaxing his witcher into motion. he reaches up as geralt draws closer to stand above him, cups his face when geralt leans down, rests his face atop his head and stares off into space. “ten long, beautiful, wonderful months, my love...”

“i know,” says geralt, closing his eyes. his voice is rough, clogged with emotion; he sinks to his knees, pulls jaskier into his arms, melts into his beloved when he enfolds him in a hug. “i know.”

-

there’s no time to waste in this famous goodbye...

-

they leave at dawn, just as jaskier requested.

geralt stands aside and watches as the bard says his farewell to the gelding he’d taken from a noble years before, his jaw clenched tight.

they mount up on roach, just like the golden days. the mare turns her head to nicker at them, and jaskier, sitting with his arms about geralt’s waist, pats her flank, clicks his tongue.

she walks on, slow and steady; geralt keeps her pace even so that jaskier can look about corvo bianco, the vineyard into which they’d moved a decade ago.

they had renovated and decorated it, made it home...

geralt feels dampness on his shoulder when they finally pass through the gates, when jaskier buries his face against him and breathes in deep.

he suppresses the ache in his own chest.

-

there’s angels landing on the shore...

-

they travel to the edge of the world.

it takes one, two months.

they take their time, roach’s pace always easy, every night spent beneath the stars or within taverns they slept in once upon a time. jaskier performs once or twice, but he sings for geralt the most, on the road; he’s kept filavandrel’s lute in prime condition all these years, and his voice is still hypnotic, still just the same.

they make love under the moonlight, geralt’s hands so gentle, so caring as they rove across his husband’s frame... and he never says it, not aloud, but jaskier knows he’s apologizing with his touch - apologizing for all the years they’d wasted, all the years lost for good.

they fall asleep in eachother’s arms fully sated and wake up coiled together, and it isn’t long before one’s lips find the other’s again.

geralt knows he’ll never forget the feeling of jaskier’s lips against his own, nor the warm and soothing weight of him in his arms...

he knows the image of jaskier’s smile when he sings will be forever engraved within his soul...

he knows that the sound of jaskier’s laughter will haunt the empty halls of corvo bianco when he returns.

he knows all this, and so, now more than ever, as they make their way across the continent, geralt pays attention.

he notices every little laugh line in jaskier’s face, his husband only barely fifty in mortal years, aging slowed by the fae blood within his veins.

just enough to rejuvenate him... not enough to save him.

he notices the nuances in jaskier’s voice, the way he shapes his vowels, the way he says his name.

he notices the way jaskier whispers, begs, pleads for more, the way he’s always breathless when he says “i love you” at the end.

he notices the way jaskier’s fingers dance across the strings of his lute, the way they fidget when they’re empty.

he notices everything, and he loathes himself for wasting the chances to do it before.

-

so lay down with me, let the river run dry...

-

jaskier grows weaker as time wears on.

geralt tries to ignore it at first, tries to deny the way his beautiful, holy little songbird is slowing upon his feet, is losing his breath more quickly.

then, one day, he can’t deny it any longer.

jaskier trips and stumbles on the trail one day - they’ve been walking for a short while, letting roach rest - and he drops to the ground before geralt can catch him by the arm, hitting his knees with a muffled curse -

and then he’s coughing, doubling over, one hand above the damned scar, the other clutching tight at geralt’s arm when the witcher drops at his side.

he coughs, and he coughs, and he coughs, and there are tears in his eyes, and there are tears in geralt’s eyes, too, tears he tries and fails to fight as he pulls jaskier close.

jaskier’s voice is weak when he says his name, and it pains geralt to hear.

-

it’s sunday in this six-day war...

-

for a week or so, geralt dares to hope things may be okay.

jaskier moves with greater ease, laughs brighter, smiles wider.

he says the pain is lessening, and geralt...

geralt prays to a pantheon in which he’s never believed.

he knows his prayers are in vain when jaskier awakens them both one night with yet another fit of coughing, when his husband’s eyes are glassy and dazed in the early dawn.

-

smile, darling, don’t be sad...

-

they reach the valley of flowers as the end of the twelfth month nears.

it’s just as beautiful as it was all those years ago, and yet, geralt finds he can’t bear the sight of it.

they set up camp atop a hill and beneath a tree, overlooking the valley. from here, the sun rises at their front and sets at their back, and the stars shine clear at night.

the little village further ahead is little more than a couple of farms and a mill, and the elves, well... the elves are gone.

the valley is all but empty.

they spend nine days there, in eachother’s arms.

geralt’s lips seldom leave jaskier’s own, save for when his lark breaks into song, heralding each and every dawn.

he hates the way jaskier’s voice has begun to crack, loves the way he sings all the same.

on the evening of the eighth day, jaskier lays cradled to geralt’s chest, a hand above his heart, head beneath his chin.

“i want you to live when i’m gone,” he says, and his voice is soft, just as it had been two months before. “to love.”

geralt says not a word.

his throat clogged with heartache, he rolls them over, draws jaskier into a kiss that feels of longing, swallows his every moan and hopes, prays that he can feel the love pouring forth from his touch.

-

stars are gonna shine tonight...

-

the next morning, geralt knows it will be the last.

he holds jaskier close to his chest from the moment he awakens at dawn, lets his husband rest even though he knows soon he will rest for eternity.

when jaskier rouses, his voice is rough, and his eyes are dazed, and he seems so lost...

but, at the same time, he seems clearer, happier.

he lets geralt sit them up against the trunk of the tree, lets geralt cluck at roach so she comes over to be patted and crooned at until another coughing fit seizes jaskier and she moves away.

they spend the day talking - reminiscing.

the day the met... the night of the banquet... the day on the mountain... the day when geralt tracked him down, begged on bended knee for forgiveness... their first kiss, stolen in a heartbeat while still on a battle’s high... the day geralt sank to bended knee for the second time...

all the lazy mornings spent at corvo bianco...

every song jaskier wrote for his witcher...

every moment they said “i love you.”

as the day wears on, geralt pivots them about the tree so they’ll face the western sky. jaskier declines the offering of food, says he is content now.

geralt holds him close, cradled to his chest, their hands woven tightly together on jaskier’s stomach. he can feel the cool metal of jaskier’s ring, feels his heart clench at the thought that he will soon wear it about his own neck by the medallion.

birds fly overhead, and jaskier’s eyes follow their path as geralt kisses his cheek, his jaw, his neck, over and over again.

“i’ll find you again,” he says, as the sun begins its afternoon descent. “i always will.”

“i know, my love,” says geralt, low, and he closes his eyes. “i couldn’t rid myself of you if i tried.”

jaskier’s answering laugh pains him as much as it heals him.

the sky begins to fade from blue into gold, from gold into violet, and as jaskier’s skin is bathed in the auburn rays, he tips his head back, rests his head upon geralt’s shoulder.

as the sun’s edge dips beneath the flower-paved horizon, jaskier turns his head, tips his chin up, meets geralt for a kiss as tender as the brush of a butterfly’s wings.

as the stars begin to appear, ghostly pale among the sunset, jaskier breaks away, squeezes geralt’s hand, whispers, “i love you, my wolf. i always have.”

as the sky goes dark, geralt holds him close, buries his face in the side of his beloved’s neck, whispers in return, ���i love you, too, my beloved. i always will.”

jaskier breathes his last as the moon reaches its brightest.

no one is there to hear geralt cry.

-

tell me where the good men go

before i wash away

walk me down the old brick road

so i can die where i met you

hold me like we’re going home

turn your tears to rain

bury me beautiful

heaven knows how i loved you

“Heaven Knows” - Five For Fighting

#geraskier #gerlion #geralt x jaskier #geralt x dandelion #jaskier x geralt #dandelion x geralt #my fics #i’m so sorry #i said we sad today

[blursed-ninjago-ideas]

Earth dragon Lily au

[Lou is held closely in one claw by Lily as they ascend to her cave. As soon as Lily lands she puts Lou in a bundle of furs and lays down cuddling him]

Lou: Why is it always me? I have the worst luck. Oh FSM am I gonna die?!?! I haven’t even hit a gold record yet.

Lily: Rrrraaaaaaaaaarrrrr ( Do you always ramble on like this when you’re nervous tiny singer?)

Lou: Oh dear my band mates are going to kill me.

[Lily coughs out a fireball and then clears her throat]

Lily: Sorry about that seasonal allergies are a bitch and you should really calm down little bard. Anyways you were saying something about golden records?

Lou: You can talk? Holy shit you can talk.

Lily: Of course I can talk, we dragons are highly evolved and are just as capable of speaking your tongue. Now you’re not going to die, in fact you’re going to become the centerpiece of my hoard practically.

Lou: I didn’t sign up for this, can’t I go back to my band lady?

[Lily shifts into her human form revealing her great height while wearing nothing except a loose black toga edged in gold. Her forehead bearing large horns similar to her dragon form and fangs. Lou just stares awestruck at her.]

Lily: It’s Lily not lady, besides we are to be mated bard. Rejoice in mating with Lily Conqueror of the caves of despair, Matser of the life bearing element Earth, Great beauty of ouroboros, and hoarder of the musical arts and dramas lost to ninjago.

Lou: So so talllllllll and buff. Ya know what this works out.

lol!!

-Ivy

#Mod Ivy #lego ninjago #ninjago #blursed ninjago ideas

[tigerkirby215]

5e Seraphine, the Starry-Eyed Songstress build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Jennifer Wuestling. Made for Riot Games.)

I mean I’m going to have to build her eventually, right? Honestly Tasha’s Cauldron comes out tomorrow so I may as well take a bit of a cheat day and make a build for the new champ. I mean I still have to and pick out a bunch of spells so at least I’m doing that?

Samira build is going to come out sometime in the year 3587 lol.

GOALS

Lookin' for a song in everything I meet! - Seraphine is a stage performer, rallying the whole crowd into song to make it loud and proud!

You're all breathtaking! - Seraphine can unite everyone around her with shields and heals. COUGH SONA COUGH.

Sing it with me! - When the time comes Seraphine can bring the whole world closer together! Good thing she isn’t mute.

RACE

I would really love to do a funny joke and say that Seraphine is a Tiefling or an Orc or something but no: she’s a Human. I can’t even justify any of the Eberron races so we’ll just be going for good ol’ Variant Human.

As a human you can increase two ability scores of your choice: pump up your Charisma and Dexterity to keep fit and beautiful. You can also learn a skill of your choice and for hearing so strong you can hear the voices of a dying nation inside your special necklace take Perception proficiency. You can also take any language of your choice so I’d suggest one that fits with your group, or whichever one you think is Korean. Actually I think Seraphine sung in Chinese which also made people mad? Man Riot can’t stop making her controversial, huhn?

But of course the main appeal of Variant Human is the free feat at level 1. I think Alert is pretty good for mimicking super sensitive hearing. Along with a +5 bonus to initiative you can’t be surprised nor can you be snuck up on. Being able to hear everyone has its perks, huhn?

ABILITY SCORES

15; CHARISMA - If you’re gonna get the crowd to adore you you’ve gotta look the part.

14; CONSTITUTION - I don’t care if Seraphine is a squishy midlane mage we simply don’t need anything else more. Feel free to swap this out with a different stat if you want better roleplay but worse health.

13; DEXTERITY - You need to be able to keep your balance on a moving platform as well as be able to dance along with the K/DA crew.

12; WISDOM - Seraphine’s big thing is being able to hear the emotions of everyone. Knowing what makes people tick is Insight, which is a Wisdom skill.

10; INTELLIGENCE - Seraphine is just your average, everyday girl. Ditzy and a little clueless.

8; STRENGTH - Seraphine can best be described as “petite.” Muscles in the chest hurt your nice soprano.

BACKGROUND

Now you may not know this but Seraphine is a singer, which is a type of Entertainer. As an Entertainer you get proficiency in Performance (obviously) and Acrobatics as well as a music instrument of your choice (Indie Seraphine plays guitar so grab a Lute) and a Disguise Kit, so maybe you can disguise the fact that you’re a copy of So...

Being the premier superstar of Piltover means that you get to tour around a lot By Popular Demand. You can perform in exchange for a place to stay, and doing so will get people to notice you! "Music helps you keep your head up."

(Artist unknown. Blame LoL Wiki. Artwork made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - BARD 1

YOU MAY BE SURPRISED TO HEAR THAT SERAPHINE IS A BARD. As a Bard you get proficiency in three skills as well as three instruments! Choose whatever instruments you want (you mostly sing, and the majority of magical instruments are Lutes anyways which you’re already proficient in) (my secret advice? Pan Flutes and Horns have a few magic instruments) but for your skills take Insight to hear the crowd, Persuasion to rally the crowd, and Arcana to learn why your magic crystal is screaming.

You also get Bardic Inspiration! Seraphine talks about being inspired so she can inspire others, and you can inspire your allies with a d6 to add to Attack Rolls, Saving Throws, and Skill Checks!

But of course Bards are spellcasters with Spellcasting too! You can learn two cantrips from the Bard list: Prestidigitation will let you get some special effects on stage and Vicious Mockery doesn’t have to be mockery... It would just be a lot cooler if it was.

You also learn four spells from the Bard list: Comprehend Languages will let you understand everyone’s song, and Faerie Fire will let you light up their life. On the more unnerving end Dissonant Whispers will let folk listen to your crystal, and Detect Magic will let you tell exactly what kind of magic you’re hearing. That’s weird: why is the Hextech crystal radiating Necromancy?

LEVEL 2 - BARD 2

Second level Bards are Jack of All Trades, being able to add half their proficiency bonus to any skill check. Because you see the rhythm in everything! Additionally you get Song of Rest, helping your friends take a break and recover more health during short rests.

But most importantly you get another spell! Another way to cheer someone up is to give them a good laugh, and Tasha’s Hideous Laughter will make them do just that! Maybe they’re laughing about the fact that Riot keeps insisting your not a copy of Sona? Oh don’t worry the jabs at Seraphine as a character are just gonna keep coming.

LEVEL 3 - BARD 3

Third level Bards get Expertise in two skills: choose Insight to hear the souls of both cities, and Performance because... yeah duh. You don’t become famous in a day.

But much more importantly you get your choice of Bard College, and for the rich and fabulous the College of Glamour will make sure everyone loves you! You can now officially captivate the whole audience (up to your Charisma modifier) with your Enthralling Performance, charming them and making them idolize you and defend you on Twitter. To both shield your allies and speed them up with Surround Sound Mantle of Inspiration takes a Bonus Action to give them Temporary Hitpoints and let them take a reaction to move out of danger. Yeah this was pretty much on a silver platter for me so I figured I’d take it.

You can also learn another spell and for an effective Beat Drop take Hold Person, rooting them in place for long enough that your ADC can do their magic.

LEVEL 4 - BARD 4

4th level comes with your first Ability Score Improvement. Charisma is pretty much everything for us now so pumping that up would be helpful!

You can also learn another spell and another cantrip! For your cantrip Dancing Lights will let you light up your stage and also pulls double duty by letting your dumb human eyes see in the dark. As for leveled spells Suggestion is a more direct form of emotional manipulation, suggesting actions for the other person to take. These actions can’t be directly harmful or against what the character would normally do, but “you should buy my $30 release skin” is a fairly ordinary request, right?

(Picture from Seraphine’s Twitter. Yup Seraphine is definitely real.)

LEVEL 5 - BARD 5

5th level Bards get Font of Inspiration, allowing their Bardic Inspiration to come back on a Short rest instead of a Long rest. This is great because your Bardic Inspiration die also increases to a d8, increasing your Mantle of Inspiration Temp HP too!

You can also learn third level spells but the keyword here is can because I’m actually going to stick at second to take spells like Calm Emotions. Man you’ll never guess what this spell does.

While Calm Emotions is a nice spell feel free to deviate from my builds as you see fit. Like seriously a temporary ceasefire is nice but so is a huge Fear cone.

LEVEL 6 - BARD 6

6th level Glamour Bards can make people dance like they have a magical instrument from Ionia. Mantle of Majesty lets you Concentrate on a not-spell once per Long Rest and get the ability to cast the Command actual-spell as a Bonus Action for one minute. Command lets you make one word commands at your enemy as long as they can understand you and you aren’t asking them to do something harmful to themselves. So commands like “Dance!” “Sing!” and “Cheer!” are all viable (though perhaps not effective in a teamfight.)

You can also add another spell to your spell list but again the third level Bard spells aren’t too enticing to me, so take Enthrall to make sure they concentrate on you and you alone.

Oh and you get Countercharm, letting you use an action to give allies against Frightening and Charming effects. Or they could buy some Tenacity. Or you could get a Paladin.

LEVEL 7 - BARD 7

7th level Bards get 4th level spells and Confusion will get the crowd mixed up in the noise, resulting in a cacophony that would sound like unbearable noise to most. Because it is unbearable noise. But at least your friends can fight them in the madness.

LEVEL 8 - BARD 8

8th level Bards get another Ability Score Improvement. Do you know what’s helpful for a class based entirely on Charisma? Maxed out Charisma!

You know what else is helpful? Charm Monster, so you can talk to any crystal scorpions that might be looking for their family. I mean, assuming the Brackern speak human.

(Picture from Seraphine’s Twitter. Yup Seraphine is definitely real.)

LEVEL 9 - BARD 9

9th level sees your Song of Rest increase to a d8. Does this ability scale really poorly? Yeah kinda.

At least you get 5th level spells now. If you want some high notes that’ll dance around you Animate Objects will let you make a bunch of tiny objects to hit your foes! Honestly at this point all the Enchantment spells become uhhh... evil? So we have to go for a different school if we want “good” spells.

LEVEL 10 - BARD 10

10th level Bards get Expertise in two more skills: Persuasion will help you shift the hearts of a nation. Take whatever skill you want as your secondary one since it honestly doesn’t matter too much. (I personally opted for Perception.)

But more importantly it’s Magical Secrets time! This will let you get any spell from any class’ spell list and add it to your own! Most of the time when you get this feature you want to grab some stuff at the max level you can cast but I’m actually going to go down to third level for some support and buffs! For a healing aura around you take Aura of Vitality from the Paladin spell list. To quickly charm a crowd Incite Greed will force everyone to be charmed by you as they want to see your 50 dollar Brackern Corpse... I mean Hextech crystal.

Along with your two Magical Secrets you also get another cantrip. Message is always good to keep plans in team chat.

LEVEL 11 - BARD 11

11th level Bards get 6th level spells like Otto's Irresistible Dance, which forces everyone to get into the rhythm! It’s much harder to fight when you’re dancing: it’s like being stunned! Good thing only you can force a stunning dance on enemies.

LEVEL 12 - BARD 12

12th level Bards get an Ability Score Improvement but now that your Charisma is maxed you can grab Inspiring Leader to rally everyone together for an awesome performance!

(Artist unknown. Blame LoL Wiki. Artwork made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 13 - BARD 13

13th level Bards see their Song of Rest increase to a d10, and this is the point where I make a joke about Song of Rest scaling poorly.

You at least get 7th level spells, and because none of these really fit Seraphine I’m going to suggest Mordenkainen's Magnificent Mansion for a K/DA stage. But again I need to remind people that I’m picking options for RP and you’re welcome to build the character however you want. Take what you think will be useful and make your own song!

LEVEL 14 - BARD 14

14th level Eloquence Bards have Unbreakable Majesty! As a Bonus Action you can put on your Ultimate Skin to force enemies to make Charisma saves if they try to attack you. If they fail, they’ll target someone else! This is a great way to keep the damage off you since you don’t exactly have great HP or AC. Do remember that it only lasts for a minute though, but you can get it back at the end of a Short or Long rest.

Additionally you get two more Magical Secrets! If you want to sing to enemies far and long (but maybe not Wide) Gravity Fissure is a Dunamancy spell that forces everyone in a line to take a massive amount of damage and be pulled to the center of the spell.

Now that you got your ultimate the world is honestly your oyster. My recommendation to get a crowd to put their hands up would be Chain Lightning, but that’s more because the spell is good than because it fits Sera.

LEVEL 15 - BARD 15

15th levels get their maximum Bardic Inspiration die of a d12! This also means that your Mantle of Inspiration will now give everyone 15 temporary hitpoints! "Harmonize!"

LoL Wiki doesn’t let me link to voice lines anymore and that’s a true crime.

And hey; 8th level spells! If you want to make some Gamers™ mad about your “cash grab” Twitter account just inflict them with Feeblemind so they can spam pictures of Skarner like the marketing department gets to choose what the champion designers make. Because remember: even if Seraphine isn’t real the people pretending to be her are, so don’t be an ass please!

LEVEL 16 - BARD 16

Who likes ASIs? We haven’t used our hyper-sensitive hearing enough so take the Observant feat for a +1 to Wisdom and a +5 to passive Perception and Investigation. And the ability to pick up on lyrics by reading people’s lips!

Are there more useful feats? Yeah, but we build for character here. If you want a powerbuild check out Reddit.

(Picture from Seraphine’s Twitter. Yup Seraphine is definitely real.)

LEVEL 17 - BARD 17

17th level Bards get to pretend that Song of Rest is a good ability! It’s a d12 now so I’m sure it’s useful now that your party all have around 100 HP!

But you finally get access to your mythical 9th level spells! Honestly all the options are great for a girl who has everything, but I’m going to go for the fun Music Video option of True Polymorph. Turn Akali into a dragon! Turn Evelynn into a demon! Turn Skarner into a battery! The possibilities are endless! (Unlike the #BrackernRights memes.)

LEVEL 18 - BARD 18

18th level Bards get their last two Magical Secrets. This is also the last two spells you’ll be getting so better make them count! Of course the best way to make a spell count is to Wish for anything. With this you can finally unite Piltover and Zaun, as long as you believe enough! Or you can bring back Skarner’s family...

For something a little more in-character and a lot more immediately practical: Mass Heal is the perfect Catch-22 to negate any burst. A burst of 700 HP to everyone is never not useful for a bit of Redemption.

LEVEL 19 - BARD 19

19th level Bards get their last Ability Score Improvement: we have an uneven Wisdom score thanks to our last Feat so eh. May as well take Resilient Wisdom for better saving throws and even scores.

LEVEL 20 - BARD 20

20th level Bards have Superior Inspiration! When you roll initiative and have no uses of Bardic Inspiration left, you regain one use. That is literally how the ability is worded. I mean, okaaaaay? At least you can spam Mantle of Inspiration a little more?

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Whole world hears me now! - You’re a full caster with no multiclassing! 9th level spells: no strings attached! You’ve even got a nice spread between Concentration spells and Non-Concentration spells, as well as both utility and combat spells.

Everyone fights to be heard; I'll fight to listen - Being a Bard means you’re good at just about everything, and particularly good at a select few things. 29 Passive Perception? +17 to Persuasion?

We've only just met and I'm already inspired - Who would’ve guessed that a Support class built to support well would be a good support? You’ve got charms, heals, and CC a plenty along with Inspiring Leader to bolster everyone before a battle and Mantle of Inspiration to keep everyone moving with the music!

CONS

Stage fright? Never heard of it - A lot of your BADDEST™ toys are locked behind big spell slots. You’ve only got two 6th level slots, and just one 9th level slot despite having three different 9th level spells to choose from. Again feel free to build your spell list however you want as I just picked what fit in character.

Pretend it's a big rehearsal - Your DEX is meh, your CON is meh. 140 HP isn’t godawful but it isn’t great when you’ll likely have 14 AC at best with Studded Leather. You know what’s really hot right now? Tattoos. See if your DM’s a cool dude who’ll pass you a Rare Barrier Tattoo from Tasha’s to essentially get Medium Armor! Elven Chain is also nice and pretty.

Joy's too quiet without sorrow on the downbeat - I don’t want to make two points related to your stats but they’re the only thing that’s really hurting in this build. Your only good stat is Charisma: and everything else ranges from meh (+2 in DEX / WIS / CON) to bad (0 in INT, -1 in STR.) While you’ll still be able to roleplay with Jack of All Trades skills your Saving Throws hurt. Your concentration is bad and anything heavy will break your petite spine in two. Luckily INT saves aren’t common but anything Strength or Constitution based will quickly put an end to your performance.

Uniting the world in song isn’t easy, but if anyone can do it it’s you. Harmonize, move with the rhythm, and unite everyone through song. There’s nothing you can’t do, and no one can bring you down down down down down down. Well, except perhaps an angry crystal scorpion monster and his army of Twitter followers.

(Artist unknown. Blame LoL Wiki. Artwork made for Riot Games.)

#Free Skarner #Brackern Rights #dnd #dnd 5e #dnd build #dnd guide #League of Legends #League of Legends Seraphine #k/da #k/da more #k/da seraphine #dnd bard

[dancedelion]

Through the Desert

Genre: angst with a happy ending Word Count: 3458 Summary: Jaskier is hungry for the world - even before he flirts with the wrong woman and gets turned into a vampire. Jaskier is not a bard anymore, he is a creature. (And witchers kill creatures, don't they?) ao3: Through the Desert Each song is like dust on Jaskier's tongue. Jaskier walks around a little too quickly, like he is hastily trying to find a place to jump up and down, like the room is too small. Jaskier's voice goes down then up then higher and higher, like he's trying to find the place in his throat where he can scream. He looks over the people who are laughing and singing with him and who can't or don't want to see the way his jaw is clenched a little too tightly in between the singing. They know Jaskier, the bard, but they don't know him.

The crowd likes him. Here they are looking at him, clapping for him, here is everything, but the room is not roaring loudly enough.

He notices a woman to the side, who, unlike the other people, stares at him with purpose. Jaskier winks at her, tries to charm her with a smile, one that doesn't look too stilted.

It's the last song of his set, so he bows into the direction of the woman with a flourish, just before he wishes everyone a good night. He raises his eyebrow at the woman, like he's telling her maybe it will be a good night yet. She is still staring at him when everyone else has turned away.

Jaskier turns away from her and walks towards the bar, like it's a game. He feels her gaze in his neck.

It's not just a farce, he is thirsty, really thirsty, so he orders a pint of ale. Anything to feel better. Finally, the ale is in front of him and he takes a sip. But he chokes on it, chokes on dust, chokes on nothing.

“Are you alright?” Jaskier looks up at the honeyed voice, still coughing. The woman from before slides into the seat next to him.

“Splendid,” he says, once he's caught his breath and smirks, “now that you're here.” And here she is, everything about her an offer, from the way she is angled towards him to the suggestive tilt of her lips.

“I listened to your songs... Not bad.” “Oh? You liked them?” “Quite a lot.” “Then maybe I could interest you in a more... private,” he leans forward and says the last word quietly, “performance?” This is a duet he has sung a thousand times before.

“I'll lead the way,” she says.

He doesn't go with her because her hair flows like moonlight or because her eyes draw him in, but because he doesn't want to go back to his room in the tavern with the single bed.

He goes because he wants nothing and he wants it so, so badly. She grabs his hand and drags him out of the tavern.

“The woods?” Jaskier says. “That can't be comfortable.” “Oh,” the woman says smiling, “here I thought you were a strong gentleman able to protect a lady, but if you're scared...” “I'm not scared of anything,” Jaskier answers and it's more true than is healthy.

So he follows her into the woods, even though it's dark and he can barely see. But what else is he going to do, play the lute in his room? Get drunk again? Go to bed hungry?

She wants him and isn't that nice?

“Are you certain it's necessary to go this far?” he asks wearily. “I don't want any interruptions,” she says, her grip gentle around his fingers. Finally, she slows down and turns around to face him.

Jaskier lets out a sigh and leans in for a kiss. She turns her head just before he can meet her lips. Startled, he pulls back again. This time, she is grinning at him.

All teeth.

Pointy and sharp.

“Okay, I'll admit it,” Jaskier rasps, “now I am a little scared.”

He takes a small step back, but stumbles directly into – his head whips around – the hard chest of a man.

“Leaving so early?” the man says and grins, too. Teeth pointy, too. Kind of like... fangs. Oh Melitele. This is why Jaskier can never have nice things.

The man fixates his gaze on Jaskier's neck.

Why can't someone ever want him just for his charming conversation and nice company? (Here is the lesson learned.)

Jaskier doesn't have a weapon with him and he already knows he doesn't stand a chance.

He wishes Geralt were here.

He wishes he were a witcher and made for killing monsters like these ones. But he's just a bard - with his neck exposed.

“Now, now,” he says quickly, “let's not do anything hasty. I was only expecting one person, but I am amendable.” The man growls.

“No? Not into that? Yeah, me neither, it was a bad idea, I should just go.” He tries to step to the side, but the man catches his arms.

“Not so fast,” he snarls, right next to his ear.

Jaskier tries to struggle a little, but the man has an iron grip and his arms are pulled behind his back painfully. The woman steps closer, but Jaskier can barely see her in the moonlight.

He doesn't want to die so hungry, so, so hungry.

If a monster is going to kill him, it should be when he stupidly followed Geralt into a fight again, not here, not like this.

And then her teeth sink into his neck and she starts taking from him.

It's a lonely way to die.

It's Jaskier betting on the wrong horse again.

She is sucking his blood slowly and he just wants this over with. He wants to close his eyes. He wants to rest. He is torn between the urge to fill a vessel and the urge to destroy it.

He can feel himself growing weaker, becoming more empty. Not like something is missing, but like he's spread thin.

“Hurry up,” the man says.

“No, I want to make this one last,” the woman replies against the bruised skin of his neck.

So on the upside of things, at least his blood is tasty.

Spots of light show up at he edge of his vision. His knees give out and it's just the man holding him up. Not a man, probably. A creature.

He imagines Geralt coming through the village and finding a contract. Tracking the vampires. Finding his corpse. And that thought hurts more than anything else.

Suddenly, there are more teeth in his mouth, too many to be comfortable. Suddenly, he doesn't feel weak anymore. His vision sharpens.

It's two against one. He doesn't have a grip on this strength, he doesn't even know what it is or where it comes from. It's uncontrollable. He's injured, he has little blood for a human.

But it's a lot for a vampire.

And most importantly, he has nothing left to lose.

He snaps forward so suddenly that neither of them see it coming and he can escape from the tight grip of the vampire. He is at her neck so quickly, she can't twist away. He bites down hard and then rips.

She makes a gurgling noise, and he draws away quickly, keeping his eyes on them.

“Fuck,” the other vampire says. All of his attention is on the woman.

So Jaskier turns and runs, faster than he's ever run before.

All Jaskier wants is to stop wanting. But now it roars in his stomach louder than ever before. He runs first to get away and then just to run.

He slows down miles away, finally out of breath. He's never been this cold, he's never been this scared.

He's somewhere in the forest and he doesn't know where and he's all alone and Geralt didn't save him.

Jaskier can suddenly see everything, the tall trees and each leaf, he can hear each rustle, each breath, each chirp. It's the world through different eyes and too much of it. In front of him, there is a lake and Jaskier steps toward it. In the moonlight, his reflection shines. His eyes are red, whether from bloodshot or just general vampirism, he doesn't know. On the pale skin, there is the bruise, bad but not fatal, but he has lost too much blood and he shouldn't be able to see anything in the darkness.

“Oh fun,” Jaskier says weakly, “I'm dead.”

A vampire. How fucking cliché.

It could have been something more mysterious, more interesting. This is too on-the-nose. It's the lamest monster to be. He's gonna dramatize in the ballad.

Jaskier turns around, at the trees and trees. There is no village to be seen. He doesn't know where he left his lute. And he is hungry in a way he has never been before.

Huh. Maybe there won't be a ballad.

(He has to get better at being dead. Dead people don't write songs.) (There is no end of the line anymore. There is no reason to head to the coast.) He turns around suddenly, erratically, has a feeling there's someone behind him. There is no one behind him. He paces back and forth and back again.

The woman had behaved so suspiciously, what a stupid way to die. Just wait until I tell Geralt about this. Except Jaskier is a vampire. And Geralt is a witcher.

And if they ever meet again... that'll be that.

Maybe that should be that.

Maybe he's already lost everything there is to lose.

Jaskier tears at his hair and there's no one here and Geralt is not here and he screams and he screams until his throat is raw and then a little longer.

*** Death is the opposite of rest.

Jaskier roams the woods, desperately, until the hunger tears his stomach apart. Rabbits are quick, always too quick for him, but now he is quicker.

He has eaten a rabbit, but never drunk one before. He was human before.

But he is used to being hungry. Has the monster always been there, lurking, waiting, until the rest of his humanity was stripped away?

He is not a bard anymore. He is nothing but hunger. Teeth and blood. One who brings death or maybe death itself.

Somewhere in a tavern, there must be the man he used to be, but he doesn't go looking.

He is waiting for something, only there is nothing to wait for anymore, nothing to satisfy. There are too many teeth in his mouth and there is too much blood on his fingers.

He is not Jaskier. He is a creature. He is someone tearing himself apart from the inside.

He doesn't sing.

*** The creature sleeps, but never restfully. It tosses and turns and dreams of teeth in its neck and a man on a mountain with razor-sharp words. But even in its sleep, it hears too much. It jerks awake at the footsteps.

It blinks and sees too much in the darkness. At least ten Nilfgaardian soldiers approach it in the clearing. They are here for him, but there is no him, only it, and it has too many teeth. And they have swords but they are not as quick as it is.

Here I am, dead, why don't you join me?

It snaps two necks before anyone can even touch it. It kills like it was born to do it, because it was, just about a month ago. But they have it surrounded and there is nowhere to run except over bodies that are still breathing so far.

The third one stabs his sword somewhere in its abdomen, but it's not lethal. It doesn't know where it is lethal anymore. How do you kill a vampire? Separate head from throat? Lethal, that. Wooden stake? Silver, for monsters? But the soldiers only have steel and steel doesn't stop it. Pain doesn't stop it. It tears through another two of them with its bare fingers and strength it didn't know it had. It is tackled to the floor, the ground hard and solid beneath its back. It closes its eyes and keeps going because even after all it still wants. Half a dozen bodies on it, crushing it, but it keeps going in the way a monster does, with every fiber of its being. With teeth, fists, legs, too.

Another wound in its leg, one in its arm, one just below its heart.

Finally, it gets grip of one of the swords and yanks and slices and three heads fall and must be lethal, that. It's still, then. With the last of its strength, it drags two bodies square over it off of it. It smells like blood so strongly and it is disgusted with wanting and it needs to get away.

It gets up on shaky legs, bodies to the right of it and to the left of it and everywhere and is this its life now? The empty eyes of the soldiers stare up at it and it doesn't close them because it won't let them rest. Oh. A heartbeat. One so slow it didn't notice it before. It straightens its back and turns around slowly, bleeding from at least four stab wounds, blood trickling into its eyelid.

Man on a mountain, razor-sharp words.

Creature on a mountain, razor-sharp teeth.

“Geralt,” it says. It is absolutely exhausted. “Fancy meeting you here.” It nods to the bodies.

“You're a little late to the party,” it continues. It's so tired. Geralt's hair glistens silver in the moonlight, and so do his swords. One of them silver. For monsters.

“I don't suppose there's a chance you'll ignore that giant pile of bodies behind me,” it keeps talking because it always talks or at least it used to. And this – maybe this is a way to die, maybe this is not lonely.

“Jaskier,” the witcher says.

“Oh no,” answers the creature. “Jaskier died a month ago.”

The witcher steps closer, carefully maneuvers around the bodies. The creature doesn't flinch. And it won't run. And it's not scared. (It's never scared when it should be.) “Jaskier,” Geralt says.

There might be tears on its face, but probably not, because vampires don't cry, do they? There is something deeply violent inside of it and maybe it would be better to snuff it out.

“Jaskier,” Geralt repeats like it's the only thing he knows how to say.

“Stop -”

It can't speak because it is crying and it is interrupted by a chocked out sob.

“Stop calling me that.” Geralt is too close. And too far.

“Jaskier,” Geralt says quietly.

Jaskier looks up at him. He looks into Geralt's yellow eyes and his knees nearly buckle.

“I know what you have to do,” Jaskier says and swallows.

He's understood by now, of course, that Geralt doesn't like him and maybe never has, but he still never would have thought that Geralt would kill him. But some things, he's sure, are unforgivable.

“Don't you think it would be easier,” Jaskier says, “if you would stop calling me Jaskier?”

“You're a vampire.” “Yes. Great. Ten out of ten for observational skill.”

He smells Geralt's mutated blood and here is finally something he doesn't want. It's a relief.

“Nothing like a good killing spree to reunite the team, am I right?” Jaskier carries on. “Bet you didn't expect that when you got rid of me on the mountain.” “These soldiers attacked you.” “So?” “So you defended yourself.” Jaskier sniffs once and carefully avoids looking at the bodies.

“Well, all anyone would see is a monster and some dead humans, so – so why don't we get to it, right? Lovely talk, but – but we both know what you need to do.”

Geralt looks a little confused, his eyebrows drawn together, but then his expression clears up.

“Ah,” he says, “you're right.” And Jaskier wants so badly, too badly, maybe, and he tries to hold still so it will be quick.

It's not fair, having to die two times, but it's also a bit of a relief not having to want anymore. It's not any easier the second time around.

“You weren't there,” Jaskier says, almost sobs.

“I know,” Geralt says. And there's that. Now he's stepping closer, closer than he's ever been before, and Jaskier wishes he had a little more time. A little time to memorize how Geralt's eyes look up close. A little time to relish in the breath on his face.

Not enough time to remember that he has seen Geralt kill a vampire before.

And finally, finally, Geralt steps closer still and Jaskier holds his breath. Tries to decide between closing his eyes so he can finally rest and keeping them open so he can see Geralt's face.

Then the collide -

chest

arms

fingers

in the nape of his neck

Is this how to die? I find

I kind of like it.

“Am I dying?” Jaskier says, “I think I'm probably bad at it.” “I hope you won't want to keep practicing.” “Ah, no. I think I've had my fill for a while.” Silence.

Only it's never silent. Not if you're a vampire.

Not if you're a witcher.

“Geralt?” “Hm.” “Why are we hugging?” Jaskier almost expects another hm. “I... missed you. I heard these Nilfgaardian soldiers were tracking you down. Because they were trying to find me probably. Because of Ciri. So I tracked them down.”

“You were a little late.” “I'm sorry.” Geralt's breath is in Jaskier's neck now, and then his cheek touches him and it's nice.

“I'm really sorry,” Geralt repeats, “for everything I said on the mountain. For making you leave. For... not being there.” Jaskier presses a little closer, not caring one bit about his injuries. He feels like they're healing up already.

He doesn't want to kill the mood, but he is too confused to keep quiet, so Jaskier asks: “Don't you think you should kill me, maybe?” “What? Why?” Now Geralt sounds confused too and a little hurt.

“I don't know. I'm a vampire. I'm dangerous. I... drink blood. It's disgusting.” “Oh, come on, Jaskier. In terms of gruesome vampires I've met – you don't even make the top five.”

Geralt releases him out of his hold again and Jaskier tries not to lean into him again.

“How did this happen?” Geralt asks gently.

“Oh, you know how it is. Flirted with the wrong woman again.”

“Fuck.” “Pretty much. But you don't need to worry about the uncontrollable bloodlust. I'm quite well-versed in wanting what I can't have.” Geralt looks at him unhappily. And Jaskier knows he must feel guilty because he's Geralt and he feels guilty about everything.

“Let's get away from here,” Geralt says. He starts trudging back where he came from and Jaskier follows him slowly because every step hurts. Geralt steadies him quickly and together they leave the clearing behind. Jaskier feels – found.

Once they've reached Roach by the road, Geralt turns to Jaskier again.

“It's not your fault, you know that, don't you?” Jaskier says softly.

Geralt works his jaw.

“You,” he says, “you were always too human for me. And you know destiny has a soft spot for fucking me over. And. Warping everything I ever wished for.” “You... wished for me not to be human?” “I wanted you not to – die.” Geralt looks distraught, and he clutches Roach's reigns, then lets go again.

“And you – what did you want?” he asks Jaskier.

Jaskier's heart leaps into his throat.

“Everything,” he says, dumbfounded.

And he does.

He wants the world, ripped open and bleeding underneath his fingers.

He wants to drink the sunshine and eat half the sky.

He wants to fall into Geralt's eyes.

He wants Geralt wanton, violently and there is no glutton like this one.

He wants Geralt's heart and he wants it beating.

He wants Geralt's teeth gnashing against his teeth.

Geralt leans forward and grips his shoulder and Jaskier moves towards him with his other side, like it's a dance.

I want you to want to bite me.

It's the gentlest touch. Like caressing lips with lips.

I want you to hunger for my blood.

Jaskier moves his hands to cup Geralt's cheeks, like he's holding the world and he is.

I want life, your life, and I wanted it on the mountain. I selfishly wanted to grow old with you.

But he has Geralt, has him where he wants him, under his fingers. Something inside of Jaskier – stills. Stops running.

Jaskier is talking and always talking, but finally – his lips come to rest on Geralt's face.

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