#“Do or die

[evillittlebirdie]

Green Eyed Monster: Karlach/Wyll & Onesided Tav/Wyll

Envy can be a ghastly beast. 

Tavianna grew up as a privileged daughter of a noble house in Baldur’s Gate. She wanted for nothing. When she requested to study magic, her parents sent her to the finest school. She was a physically delicate creature that could charm anyone. And even worse, she could manipulate anyone. 

The first time Tavianna laid eyes on Wyll, she knew she had to have him. And obviously, he would fall in love with her. As it stood, her status, power, and beauty should have been enough. Tavianna should have had Wyll wrapped around her little finger. 

But instead, romance fluttered between Wyll and Karlach. Instead of distancing himself from the teifling that made him a devil, Wyll pursued her. Tavianna could only steam as the two shared kisses, as Karlach lifted the man on her shoulders, and as Wyll led her in a dance. 

It should have been her. 

It should have been Tavianna who ran off into the sunset with the figurative Prince. Not Karlach. If Wyll promised himself to Tavianna, he could regain his rightful place in Baldur's Gate noble society. Tavianna would be the perfect partner on his arm. Not Karlach, not some uncouth giant with an infernal engine for a heart. Wyll deserved to be content. Karlach needed to understand that. 

***

“Hey there, soldier,” Karlach greeted Tavianna with a smile on her face. She liked Tavianna (She did not like being called, 'Tav'. Karlach learned that quickly). She was a bit snooty and attracted to the finer things in life. But so was Astarion and he was a good egg. 

"Yes, hello, Karlach. Can you and I have a brief discussion?" Tavianna requested. Something seemed off in her mannerisms. Tavianna's stance was stiff and her eyes were not directly meeting Karlach's. 

"Of course," Karlach nodded. When Karlach accepted the invitation, Tavianna gestured for Karlach to follow her away from camp.

Maybe Tavianna needed a friendly ear. A lot had happened over the past few days since they walked into Wyrm's Crossing. Karlach was itching to get her hands on Gortash. Since Tavianna reported his whereabouts, Karlach had to keep her anger in check. Her revenge could wait. Justice was patient. 

"You and Wyll make a lovely couple," Tavianna commented suddenly.

Karlach felt her heart jump at the mention of her partner. It was a bard's tale. Initially, they were enemies, then friends, then lovers. Wyll was a kind, protective, and brave soul. Wyll risked burning to kiss her. He had been her first hug after Dammon upgraded her engine. She brought him to her parents' graves. In all the chaos, they found love in this mess. 

"Thanks. It's a lucky thing that you weren't a 'shoot first, ask questions later' type of gal when you met me," Karlach chortled good-naturedly. 

Tavianna made a tight-lipped smile before humming out, "Yes, yes, otherwise you couldn't have pled your case to Wyll. He's a sympathetic soul." 

"You've got that right," Karlach concurred. The way Tavianna was responding to her was making Karlach nervous. She moved back and forth on the ball of her feet, wondering when Tavianna would make her point. "He's a real decent, brave sort." 

"It's a shame what happened to him...because he let you live despite Mizora's orders," Tavianna remarked, her voice light and delicate. Everything about Tavianna was delicate; from her small, lithe stature to her mint green eyes to the lavender clothes she favored. 

"Oh..." Karlach responded, thinking about Wyll's transformation. She knew it was a sore spot for him. But Wyll's confidence had returned since then. He grew more confident in his abilities and his skin. "Well, at least we're not locking horns anymore," Karlach chuckled, looking at the bright side. 

Tavianna giggled (Karlach could have sworn she was condescending in her tone) before she explained, "Oh that is the least of his worries. I am more concerned with the torture he suffered as he was pulled through the Hells," She sighed before she continued, "And the look on Wyll's face when his father rejected him..." 

Karlach could the pit of her stomach grow dense with dread. She knew Wyll's sacrifice for his city. He had such a large decision at such a young age. "Well, once we get rid of the tadpole in his father's head. Not to mention the tadpoles in all of our heads...we can square everything away."

"If only it were so easy..." Tavianna lamented, "Sometimes it takes forever for such wounds to heal. The enormity of what Wyll has gone through...It just tears at my heart." 

Karlach twisted uncomfortably. She glanced over her shoulder to the camp. Wyll and Gale were chatting by the fire, laughing over something. Wyll was smiling, but was the light meeting his eyes? Karlach looked back to Tavianna.

"With all due respect Karlach...I don't think you fully understand," Tavianna pointed out.

"What do you mean, Tavianna?" Karlach questioned, defensively, not understanding where this line of question was going. 

"He's lost everything...His family, his confidence, his body, his society. All because of you..." Tavianna added on, sympathy coloring each syllable. 

"I...I know this..." Karlach struggled to get out. Tears choked her voice. Guilt pulled her down. "He's...He's told me this..." Suddenly, she felt Tavianna's tadpole connect with hers.

Karlach's mind was assaulted with a variety of memories from Tavianna's point of view. She saw Mizora yanking Wyll by an invisible leash. She saw his body's violent transformation. She saw the pain, rejection, and sadness that colored each step in his walk. Karlach was not at Wrym's Crossing during Gortash's coronation. Through Tavianna's eyes, Karlach saw Wyll's distress. Wyll confided to Tavianna bout what happened with Mizora. 

Karlach struggled to keep her emotions in check as Tavianna showed more images of Wyll. What stuck out the Karlach the most was the sight of Wyll by himself at the party after they saved the Grove. He was withdrawn, drinking a goblet by himself by the river bank. He was self-consciously rubbing his horn. He blinked his eyes, staring at his reflection in the water, before throwing the goblet at the reflection. 

***

Tavianna kept her connection to Karlach's tadpole strong. She spent a lot of time with Wyll and had many memories to share with Karlach. 

But Tavianna needed to ensure that Karlach would realize that she did not belong with Wyll. Tavianna was a creative, intelligent woman. She could manipulate the memories she had. Even though Wyll did not directly say the words to her, Tavianna could figure that Wyll had to be at least thinking it. Wyll had to know that Karlach would drag him down socially. Even if they managed to break Mizora's contract, he would never be rid of Avernus. 

"But I have to stay with her, Tavianna," Wyll told her, "Karlach is the only one who'll have me like this...I don't want to be alone and I don't want to hurt her. After all this...a life on the run is the only thing I have to look forward to, I suppose...Running until Zariel's devils catch us..."

Tavianna was relieved that the false memory translated easily. Karlach looked like she had been slapped in the face. Tavianna did not overplay her hand. She pulled from Karlach's mind. She watched as Karlach struggled to speak. The larger woman couldn't even look her in the eye. 

"I...I need to go...I...I just need some air...some air away from here," Karlach rushed out, stumbling over her words. She instantly dashed from Tavianna, disappearing into the trees beyond the camp.

A small smile curled on Tavianna's lips. 

[sometimesraven]

With You, I Am Enough

Whumptober No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.” Made to Watch | “It should have been me.”

Fandom: The Witcher (Netflix) POV: Jaskier Whumpee: Jaskier

Yennefer pulls Jaskier from a deep, dark moment of self-doubt.

AO3 Link

“It should have been me.”

Jaskier closed his eyes, allowing the salt of his tears and the grit of dirt to cast rivulets toward the iron on his lips, mixing until they began to taste of rot. The sting of every cut and throb of bruises and fractured bones taunted him with the painful reminder that he was alive. He was alive, and they were not.

Another camp of elves had been slaughtered. Jaskier had scarcely managed to escape by the skin of his teeth and the grace of whichever Gods watched over him now. Perhaps it was their cruelty. He could not decide.

”Self-flagellation is a woefully unattractive quality for a man.” Yennefer was teasing, he knew — attempting to break the misery hanging between them in her own way. Still, Jaskier fell silent, accepting the shooting pain of whatever potions she’d whipped up to clean and aid with healing him. He could feel her violet gaze burning into him, disturbed by his lack of complaints, but could not bring himself to even meet her gaze. “If you had died there would just be one more corpse. Destiny doesn’t care how many sacrifices you make.”

”Destiny isn’t fair,” he muttered, the words vaguely spat through bloodied teeth. “What’s the life of one human compared to theirs? I should’ve done something. I’m a coward.”

”Coward you may be,” Yen hummed, “and the value of your life…” She tilted her head, pretending to be considering it, but seemed to abandon the joke when he finally lifted his grim gaze to follow her. “Don’t start comparing the worth of lives, Bard. You’re too… pure isn’t the word.”

“Naïve,” he offered dryly. “To think I could be anything more than a coward.”

”You keep using that word.” Yennefer’s eyes grew stormy with thought, staring him down with an expression he’d seen before. The worldly, motherly judgement she so enjoyed throwing at others. “What would you have done, hm? Thrown yourself at their swords, ‘take me! I’m important enough that you’ll leave them alone!’”

”I watched them tear the ears from a child,” he spat, voice shaking as a fresh flood of tears stung his cheeks. “I should have thrust a knife through his throat before he had the chance.”

”And the next would have taken his place, and your life would mean nothing.”

”My life does mean nothing.” The conviction of his words shocked even Jaskier, his gaze averting as he realised the weight of what he’d said. “I thought-.. I’m just a man, Yen. I have suffered so little compared to these people— to you. I thought I might make meaning from that. Use my life to elevate theirs. But I-.. I’m nothing. Just another body to buy them time.”

”That is what this comes to? Comparing suffering?” Yennefer’s voice was cutting as ever, but something shifted. A pain underlying, betraying her concern. Jaskier’s stomach turned, sickened that she should waste that on him. "Yes, you're a human man. You're also an artist bedding an elf-blooded sorceress and a witcher. You've been tortured, near-killed and imprisoned. Different suffering does not mean less suffering, and less suffering does not mean the absence of suffering. But that doesn't matter. Martyring yourself won't stop a war."

"To save one life should be enough."

"Then you've done enough." Her voice grew softer still, hands almost tender as she dabbed at a cut on his brow. "Sometimes a flower is just a flower, but you are a dandelion. You lay down your roots and take on all the poison in the earth so that others can thrive. You don't die just because you lose your head; they would have to tear you from the soil and poison the ground you walk on." Her hand grabbed his chin as he made to avoid her gaze, snapping him to look at her. "Your songs are your roots, Sandpiper. Without them, how many more would die?"

Jaskier couldn't answer that. His mind travelled to elves and spirits and visions of the past, to his songs sung with hushed voices as storms battered the rotting wood of another old ship he could scarcely pack the people into. He was no warrior. No mage nor fighter. Stories were all he had, and all he could offer, and perhaps-- perhaps that was enough. To live, so that little elven child would not be forgotten to the ash and dirt.

"Good." Yennefer huffed, roughly dropping his chin and returning to patching his wounds. "Can I stop being nice to you now, bard? It's exhausting."

Jaskier managed a weary, wobbly smile. "I'd never accuse you of being nice, witch."

[its-my-whump]

Whumptober 06

No. 6: “Do or die, you’ll never make me; Because the world will never take my heart.”

You don't need to read the whole story. Every day can stand for its own. And that poor soul has to suffer through every single one of them, I promise!

Hummingbird 06

(Story starts here) previous

...He screamed from the top of his lungs. His heart wanted to jump out of his chest in painful jumbling beats. His arms felt like dead weight, his legs giving in. The torture stopped. Little electric impulses still on their way to leave him and slowly his world turned black.

His mind floated away to a point in time roughly 2 days ago.

...

"You don't need to come in tomorrow, Cooper."

Sam was dumbstruck and just stared back. More satisfaction in Harolds eyes. "We're letting you go."

...

'Yeah, he had lost his job! He had lost his job?'

Frantically Sam sucked in oxygen, as he suddenly came too again. 'What just happened? He was at work and now he was... strung up? Where was he?'

A firm slap to his face and he unfortunately remembered, that he had been drugged in the club, where he had tried to drown that shitty day. 'So he HAD actually lost his job.'

His mind was back and his body finally realised, that he was currantly being tortured by this freak, that was now and again calling him a fucking hummingbird.

Before he could get a complete picture of his situation again, the cattle prod was jammed into his other calf. His legs jumped again. He jerked in his restains. The pull on his wrists let him think, his arms were being seperated from his burning body. As if on queue his agitated left arm was also regarding his attention.

His heartbeat actually hurt with every frantic thud. His body was violently trembling, chains rettling loudly. But he could hardly hear his own screams above the rushing in his ears.

The buzzing stopped, his body was still slightly thrembling. Sam's head had lolled forward, too heavy to lift it again. Sweat was dripping from his face. His eyes closed and he tried very hard to keep conscious.

"So, now will you be my good little hummingbird again or do we have to go another round?" The voice was almost cheerish, but there was an undefinable edge at the end of his question. If Sam hadn't been too out of it, he would have almost mistaken it for some kind of plea. But his mind was playing tricks, despite his own blood rushing in his ears was muting the outside world almost beyond recognition.

Sam could hardly breath, even less speak, but he wouldn't barge. Gravity and limb muscles kept him hanging in his restrains, but he wouldn't give this creep the satisfaction of winning. His head was lifted slowly by the man's gloved hand, tears of pain and drops of sweat glistening on his cheeks. Sam's glacy eyes fixated onto his perpetrator. "Nee-ver. Sooo go'on... Aand s-s-eee. You jj-st made my pp-oin-t, mm-ister fuuckfac..."

The cattle prod was jammed right into the old scar above his heart. The man was furiously screaming at him.

"So, it's DO or DIE for you! YES? But YOU’ll never make me! Because the world will never EVER take my HEART! So, I'll just have to make you understand then! YES HUMMINGBIRD?"

The fizzling electrodes burning the cotton of Sam's sweat soaked shirt. His heart was surely ripped apart from the inside out right now. The pain was unbearable. The smell of burning flesh reached his nose. Another flash of white agony, like someone just pushed a gleaming knife right through his heart and the world stopped.

TBC

Tagging: @dresden-syndrome @vixenngloss @kazieka @goodluigi999 @ratsarekool @trinket-treasury @whump-me ;-)

Hummingbird masterlist

@whumptober-archive

[batcavescolony]

Katniss is such an unreliable narrator. She says "Then something unexpected happens. At least, I don't expect it because I don't think of District 12 as a place that cares about me" girl you deliver strawberries to the Mayor, you hunt and trade for the district, when you fell at Prim being chosen someone caught you, when you went to Prim people parted for you, when you volunteered EVERYONE stopped. Idk how to tell you but I think you're a pillar of the community.

[symphonyofsilence]

Let the poor man rest.

[humming-fly]

I love how Gerald was trying to keep Shadow from spoiling anything about the future meanwhile literally everything Shadow says and does around Maria is the biggest death flag ever

[lastoneout]

I just love it when video games let you do really stupid shit that kills you immediately. I love being like "oh this is a terrible idea" and being able to do it and then die. It's good game design.

[eastgaysian]

[catmask]

being the most left leaning family member means everyone will always think that youre insane and then in two years they will believe what you were explaining to them two years ago but still think youre insane now. and you do it anywaybecause you love them

[fawn291]

[inkskinned]

you said you were stuck in a time loop, which was fine. i feel like late-stage capitalism has us all in a time loop, ammiright? you came barging in at 5:33. in the morning. i hadn't even processed the idea of coffee.

but you had this look of utter panic in your eyes. terror like the ocean. you grabbed my cheeks. im in a time loop.

i don't know why in movies the first reaction is to deny it. when someone is panicking like that, it's not appropriate to ask them to calm down. it didn't matter if i believed it, what mattered was that you believed it so much that it was consuming you.

so here we are. i pour you some of the dark roast. "you look like utter and entire hell," i say.

you push your fingers into your eyes. "you always say that."

i try to think of something funny to say that i wouldn't have said on previous time loops, but jokes don't land without the proper timing (lol). "remind me to think -"

"-yeah, of a joke that only works in the future. and before you say anything, i know you're pissed i just stole your punchline." you bolt the coffee, which is wild. it's very hot. you don't seem to notice.

i blow on mine to cool it down. i both am very pissed at you and also i can't see you in this amount of panic without wanting to help. but i'm also not really sure what we are, not since i saw you kiss her like that, no offense. it just was like, kind of rude when you knew i liked you.

and besides. i'm just like, barely a person. i write omegaverse fanfiction. i love the concept of a time loop, but what the fuck am i gonna do? send an alpha in there? i open my mouth.

you point at me. "you're about to ask why me. and then say some disparaging shit about yourself. i'm just a nerd who plays dnd or something. that self-own is slightly different each time." you sigh. "i know you think you can't really help me. i don't know who can help me. i only came to you because you fucking believe me." you check your watch, sigh, and throw your head back. you cover your eyes with one hand. "i've come here on 26 separate revolutions," you say. "you have believed me every time. and yeah, i have no idea how you fit into this but i just -" you sigh again. "i just like fucking talking to someone about it."

"do you need more cof-" i start, but you're already holding the empty cup out. i frown at it. "you're not getting any more until you promise not to bolt this one like an animal."

you laugh a little and sit up, pushing your hair out of your face. "okay, that's new dialogue. but to be fair to you, i'm not usually this rude. i'm still pretty new at all of this." you check your watch again. another sigh. i guess you're cruising for a personal best in the Sigh Olympics.

i almost tell you im not an NPC but i've played enough video games to know i'm very much an NPC. i pour you another cup. "so what happens in the loop?"

"really bad explosion." you mutter into the mug. you put your elbows on the table (rude) and bury your face in your arms like an angsty teenager. one hand floats up while you talk, because evidently you literally can't talk without your hands. "i have to save the day and there's this bomb and i have no bomb training and it keeps moving, you know."

"do i die?"

you peek up from your arms. "yeah. bigtime. you keep trying to run or stay or do anything and you always super die."

"oh."

"to be fair, like, everyone dies in it though.... so you're in good company."

i hate that you make me laugh. i hate that being around you always feels tingly and strange, this electric tension between us. something that is evidently (given how you stuck your tongue down a stranger's throat literally 3 days ago) (well. 3 for me) super one-sided. i take a sip of my coffee and close my eyes.

i die today, i guess. a little spark of panic starts at the top of my hands and starts whipping up my wrists.

"shit," you say. you look at your watch and jump to your feet. "i have to go. if i can come back, i will. i am still trying to figure out when is best to do everything, you know? the order of stuff. maybe morning isn't good for us."

i look up at you and think about how you keep kissing me in the back of my car and in alleyways and in the dark. and i can never fucking get a read on you. and i also think about how incredibly panicked you look. how broken. how long have you been doing this? "i don't want to die," i say.

you glance downwards. "well, you're not really dead, you'll come back in the loop."

"but i will have died." my hands are shaking. i am trying really hard to stay calm.

you push your hands through your hair again. "i really have to go. i will have this discussion with the next version of you, though. it is like, something i am thinking about."

"but i don't get a next version," i say. i don't really have the language for this, because i haven't had 26 tries with you. i only have my memories: you, a week ago. drunk and telling me you loved me in my ear. you, kissing her anyway. you, months ago, throwing up on my birthday, whispering to me i ruin everything i touch, always, over and over. please don't ask. i can't ever fucking have that be you.

i run my finger along the rim of the mug. "i don't want to die in this one."

you seem baffled by this. "i get that but - time will reset, you'll be fine, you won't even remember we talked about this."

"but i know now." i stand up too. "i have to live the rest of this day knowing i could die. knowing i probably am going to."

"you could always die, to be fair."

i feel my hands get out of control. "earlier, you said i always say a different insult about myself. what if you're just going through different parallel universes and those are all just different - but real - versions of myself? what if you're not in a time loop, you're in a fucking universe loop?"

"if it helps, i've wondered this too. also, you're hot in all of them. if that helps."

i point at you. "no flirting. i'm trying to figure out if i die today."

"who's flirting?" you catch my wild hands and give me that long, perfect smile. like we're in this together. "i won't let ya die." you check your watch and sigh again. "well. maybe not this time."

i grit my teeth. you are so not making quips at me while i try to explain the existential dread i'm having. "does the time loop reset if i fucking kill you?"

"honestly i don't know how long it continues after i die, because i just wake up. it could be that the loop goes until the explosion for everyone, and we're all in the loop, or it could be that when i die, the loop restarts. when i die i wake up, is all."

i pull away from you and stalk into the kitchen and start doing all 3 of my dishes. "okay, first, you know i was joking. and secondly, this is exactly my point. you don't know if this is just a parallel universe. maybe in the ones where you died, the explosion happened and nobody reset and it's just you travelling." i have to stop and push the heel of my palm into my eyeball. "... how often have you died?"

i look at you. you look at me. you give me this very sad, halfway smile and a little what can ya do shrug. something in that action seems so old and weary that i want to burst into tears.

"i have to go," you say. "really. for real. there's this family of five i save from getting into a car crash. and i know it's like oh but we're all gonna die in the explosion anyway, what's the point. and..." you shrug again. "it matters to me, is all. at least i saved them for now. at least i saved anything."

you pad over to me and wrap me in a tight hug. you always seem so tall against me. i feel your cheek rest against the top of my head for a moment. for a second, it's just us, and the space is warm, and my heart is a little broken hare.

you leave me there, and i stand in my stupid badly lit kitchen with my stupid mugs. i think about you. i start texting my mom that she needs to get out of the city, but it feels pointless.

i don't know what to do. tomorrow is the same day for you. but i have to prepare to die in my today.

[reinbouxsworld]

twisted wonderland × kimetsu no yaiba (au!)

based on this post here.

I this this on a a japanese song only playlist and a wave of hiperfixation. So heres the context: Yuno (Yuu) and Leona were newly married and lived on his family’s land. On the night after the Town Below festival, Yuno returned home to find not only her husband’s family dead but also her younger brother, Grimm. Leona was the only one still alive, but as she tried to lead him down the mountain, she discovered that he was no longer human.

Silver, a demon slayer, confronted Leona. However, after witnessing him protect Yuno, he chose to spare the newly turned demon’s life, and send the couple to his master, Lilia.

Vil and Rook are the Tamayo and Yuuchiro of this universe. Vil lived more than 300 years only on serving face and hate, nonetheless showed kindness by helping Yuno and Leona after their encounter with the Demon King.

Ace and deuce are both slayers, one ranking above yuu. The three met during a mission, and the two decided to stick by her side from that point on.

[hinamie]

make it vicious, take a stab

[lazylittledragon]

dndads s1 you're so special to me

[geospiral]

AND WHERE THE FUCK WERE YOU TWO.

[yuri-hell-world]

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