#anyway. I will learn all the bard songs for flute

[mellomadness]

I’ve been home for a week now and I found my old flute. 30 min later and I know how to play “The Power” from BG3. Next up: Bard Dance. I will become the ultimate flute bard irl

[levinbolts]

talking a little about iaira

i multiclass him as a rogue/bard for very specific reasons relating to his origin/backstory. he grew up orphaned and on the streets, and learning to swindle, deceive, and steal was his only means of survival for much of his adolescence. he knows how to sneak about and get what he needs, or how to talk the right person into doing it for him. after all, if people are going to look at him with suspicion anyway, due to his appearance, he might as well give them a reason to regret it laterᅳand what better way for them to learn their lesson than for them to be missing a few pieces of gold, or a valuable ring?

however, as much entertainment as sneaky thievery brings him, his passion lies elsewhere: performance. iaira loves to put on a show, and his favorite method is through music and dance. now obviously i don't have this liberty within the game, but interpretive dance is iaira's preferred medium for storytelling. music, particularly flute and lyre, is his second (and one he uses most often, for ease of understanding). most stories he weaves have both a song and dance.

he does perform other genres of dance (he has to make a living in baldur's gate somehow), but usually do so with his face either completely or heavily obscured from view, so as to not risk interference or conflict with his personal life.

[plethomacademia]

WIP Whenever

I got tagged by @mightymizora and am finally home from holiday stuff. I really enjoyed reading all y'all's stuff today, y'all are making some cool things.

(I also love this exercise because what I put a week ago, none of it was in the final work LOL I deleted basically all of it.)

I just posted a chapter so I only have rough notes for the long fic, so here's some dialogue I wrote for a thing I'm picking at. It takes place in game and the goal is to explore how Maeve uses music to reconcile with who she was, is, and wants to be as a dark urge that tries to resist.

This dialogue takes place as the party welcomes their new bard member, Alfira! They have a great evening and it's all ok :)

Karlach, “Should we teach her the game?” Astarion, “You mean the game you made up earlier this evening that no one else plays?” Karlach, “Maeve does. So, Maeve lost her memories and — Oh sorry, is it ok that I mentioned that?” Maeve, “She would have learned eventually.” Karlach, “Anyway, she lost her memory, right, but turns out she can still play the flute and the lute. I mean, you saw the lute part. But the game is, we —” Astarion, “You” Karlach, “We sing a bit of a song and see if she can play it. So far she’s been bang on.”

I think everyone I would have tagged has been. I want to meet more writers, please feel free to tag me and then I will start tagging you :)

[arlathen]

hiiii carly if it’s not weird to come in here, I would LOVE any extra details on marian you haven’t talked about (her Lore or history or her relationship with gale or whatever comes to mind) because she’s so NEAT. blorbo from your brain on my dash to me ❤️💕❤️

ME WHEN I LOVE U 💖💖💖💖💖💖

she is my wettest, most pathetic little girlie. she is SOOO unused to communicating. like at all. it isn't like she's being secretive -- it just never occurs to her to tell people things. (also she has crazy high charisma bc teehee but really that's just -- like she's so bad at expressing her emotions that she's hard to read. is she lying? you don't know!). anyway really the only way the party -- gale and others -- learn a SCRAP of information about her is when she like has a panic attack and the wormies so kindly feed them scraps of whatever it is that's upsetting her. whole party sitting around after she's gone to bed trying to piece together the latest scrap of Marian Lore from what they can remember.

kind of related but gale goes out of his way to take such good care of her. like it's a point of pride for him. his wife is a shaky little abused chihuahua but he treats her so well that she would never growl at you <3 and it especially starts with feeding her, like early act 1. she's soso skinny, she doesn't have an ounce of fat on her. she looks like she'd die if she missed a single meal. and he doesn't even think about it that hard, he just takes note of what she eats a lot of and makes extra, makes it more often, gives her extra in her bowl. and by act 3 she's nice n soft n healthy and there's color in her cheeks. she had one set of robes for her entire life and had to maintain them magically or wear dirty, torn, too-small clothing? hmmmm well. now she gets anything she so much as looks at too long in a shop window. and she doesn't expect this, of course. oh my god, she'd never consider asking for anything, ever. needing help is a failure state, don't you know? but only for her. it's okay if other people need help. but not her. but we know mister grand gestures over here is DOTING on her.

aaaaaaand her older sister is a self-taught bard and taught marian some music when she was, like, a very young child. and it's something that she'd completely forgotten about until gale died (lol) and she had to use that stupid flute to resurrect him. like, that night in camp she noodles around with the flute and manages to work out some old folk song, and she has no idea where it's from, but it makes her feel some type of way and makes her remember a feeling she can't even remember having felt before.

[lonewolfel]

Song Bird

Read on AO3

Hunter learns how to play the flute ft. Raine.

For @ssilverscale

I love her Bard Hunter au and I got a fic idea. So you can blame her for this.

The song that Hunter plays is here. (Keep in mind Hunter has only been playing for a month or two so it wouldn't sound like that.)

Also, I am a viola and piano player. So I don't know that much about the flute sorry if I get anything wrong I'm just too lazy to look up flutes.

Hunter had never been in the bard headquarters. Perhaps that was why he lingered by the instruments in the storage room when he should be continuing his patrol. It wasn't as if he had any interests in instruments. After all, Bard Magic is beneath the Golden Guard.

"May I help you?" The voice of one of the scouted individuals for the head bard position asked from behind him. Hunter turned around with a blush appearing on his face in shame for not noticing their arrival. He needs to be more aware of his surroundings Professor Raine Whispers's eyes widened comically. "Go...Golden Gua...rd, sir."

"Professor Whispers" Hunter greeted in return.

"With all due respect, sir, what are you doing here?" Professor Whispers asked

"I'm sure you are aware that Head Witch Crane is retiring. Emperor Belos has tasked me to scout the potential head witches." Hunter said. Whispers seemed to relax at that. Hunter filed that away for later.

"May I ask who are the potential witches?" Professor Whispers asked

"That's confidential," Hunter said. Professor Whispers frowned.

"Very well, I'll leave you to it if there is nothing you need me for." Professor Whispers said. They turned around to leave.

"Wait," Hunter said before he could stop himself. Professor Whispers turned back around to face him. Hunter suddenly felt self-conscious. "Could you tell me what these instruments are?" He waited for the bard to express disgust or anger or to tell him how stupid he is. He even watched their face. No such thing ever crossed it.

"Of course." Professor Whispers said. Their tone remained the same. They pointed out the instruments as they said their names.

One instrument, in particular, caught his eye. It was a slender brown tube with holes and plates on it.

"That's a flute." Professor Whispers said

"What are the parts over some of the holes?" Hunter asked. If this shocked Professor Whispers they gave no indication of it.

"Those are keys. You press down on them to close the holes which change the note being played." Professor Whispers explained. Hunter didn't quite understand what a note was, but he nodded his head anyway. They picked up the instrument. "Would you like to try and play it?" Hunter froze at the question.

Yes "No, I've taken enough of your time. I will be leaving." Hunter said. With that, he left the room leaving the bard there.

In the end, he only really scouted Professor Whispers, but Emperor Belos didn't need to know that.

~~~

Hunter was frustrated. He could help his uncle. He knew he could yet his uncle refused to tell him who cursed him. It didn't help that he had failed in his mission and all of the palismen managed to escape with the human girl. Now he also had to be careful cause Kikimora was no longer just trying to get him to fail but actually kill him.

Hunter was so focused on his thoughts that he wasn't looking where he was going. This caused him to collide with someone.

"Watch it." Hunter snapped. He righted himself and looked at the person he ran into. It was Head Witch Raine Whispers.

"I'm sorry," Head Witch Whispers said. At first, they had a look of confusion then they noticed the uniform. A bunch of different emotions crossed their face too quickly for him to notice and figure out what they were. "Golden Guard."

Hunter was too tired and frustrated to deal with the bumbling stage fright-ridden coven head. He shoved past him. Without giving any further regard. After all, they were just another coven head that ignores him.

If the next day Hunter finds the flute that he had been looking at a month ago in his room it's of no matter to him. It also doesn't prove anything.

~~~

Hunter looked back at the bird palisman that was hanging around him. He didn't know why he didn't just hand it over to his uncle. He needed them and yet he had one within reach and yet he didn't hand it over.

Hunter told himself that it was because he had something else to hand over at the moment. The random flute that appeared in his room was hidden behind his cloak. He didn't want anyone to think that he, the Golden Guard would dare dabble with bard magic. The palisman chirped at him as if it expected him to understand it.

"Stay here," Hunter said. He didn't know why he bothered. It tilted its head to the side. He shook his head and left the room.

Hunter walked through the castle towards his destination. His destination is the room that Head Witch Whispers was given. He knocked on the door. They opened the door.

"Golden Guard, what can I do for you?" Head Witch Whispers asked. Hunter pulled out the flute from beneath his cloak.

"What is this?" Hunter hissed.

"A flute." Head Witch Whispers answered simply. This caused Hunter's anger to rise.

"I know what it is." Hunter snapped. "I want to know why it is in my room."

"You displayed an interest in it a month ago." Head Witch responded. Hunter was shocked that they remembered.

"No, I didn't." Hunter said, "I was just there to see if you would make a good coven head." A small smile appeared on their lips.

"If that was just the case then I feel like you should ask more challenging questions than the name of the instruments and about the keys of a flute." Head Witch Whispers said. Hunter felt a blush rise on his face. This time though he didn't have a mask to hide behind. "Come in I have some things for you."

"No, I'm here to return this not for lessons. I don't have time for such a trivial thing." Hunter said. Head Witch Whispers gave him a look that he couldn't quite understand.

"A shame. I thought you would be great at it." Head Witch Whispers said.

"Really?" Hunter asked. He couldn't stop the hope from being heard in his voice.

"Of course. You are smart enough that it would be no problem for you to learn an instrument." Head Witch Whispers said. There was a small smile on their face. Hunter couldn't help but feel pride surge through him. "Though I under..." Hunter pulled the instrument towards his chest away from Head Witch Whispers's grasp.

"No!" Hunter cried. Then he realized what he did he tried to save himself. "I'll show you how easy it is for me to learn the instrument." Hunter shoved his way into the bard's room.

~~~

"I can't do this!" Hunter cried. He was tempted to through the offending instrument against the wall. Though he didn't want to test Head Witch Raine's patience. He could get away with playing the wrong notes after a week of having the instrument but breaking the flute... They placed a hand on Hunter's shoulders. He was pretty proud of himself for not flinching this time.

"It takes time to get good at an instrument." Head Witch Raine said "It took me decades to get to the point I am now. You are doing very good for someone who has only been playing for a week."

"I should be better. This doesn't even count as music." Hunter said

"You are trying that's all that matters." Head Witch Raine said. Hunter gave them a look of confusion.

"But the results?" Hunter asked

"I don't care about results. I only want you to try, which you are." Head Witch Raine said. Hunter didn't know what to say to that. His uncle only cared about the results. "Golden Guard."

"Hunter," Hunter said, "that's my name."

~~~

Raine had been sick for the last week. It has been a month and a half since Hunter started learning the flute. The past week he had practiced extra hard (if there were some sleepless nights for him well it didn't matter) to impress Raine when they are finally feeling better.

Hunter stopped at the bard's door and knocked. His flute, like always was hidden behind his cloak to avoid anyone from knowing that he was learning bard magic. Raine opened it.

"Golden Guard, what can I do for you?" Raine asked. Hunter froze. They had stopped calling him by his title when they were in private. Which they should be. They were waiting for him to respond, but he didn't know what to say. He didn't know why Raine was behaving like that...

"Is the Golden Brat bothering you?" Terra asked. Hunter's face turned hot with shame.

"I was just leaving." Hunter snapped. He turned back the way he came shoving past the head of the plant coven.

Hunter felt angry, upset, and disappointed. He didn't understand why. He knew that eventually, Raine would start hating him. After all, everyone but his uncle hated him. It was only a matter of time. He should be glad that they didn't waste any more of his time and that they were at least civil. Which was more than he could say for the other coven heads.

Perhaps Hunter should have returned the flute. He wasn't turning back though. He couldn't face Raine...Head Witch Whispers and Terra. Not to mention Terra would tell everyone that he was learning the flute. He hoped that Raine would be embarrassed enough having spent so much time with him that he wouldn't mention that they were teaching him to play the flute.

Well, Hunter will let Head Witch Whispers come to him to collect the instrument. Let them face him.

~~~

Hunter was laying on his bed. It was frustrating; despite the fact that he had brought his uncle the key to the portal (it was cracked but it still had some of the blood and that was far more than Kiki had managed) he was still resigned to the castle. It's been two weeks and Hunter was going stir crazy. He wasn't the only one though. Flapjack was flying around the room clearly bored. That was when they uncovered the flute case that he had hidden on one of his shelves.

"Flapjack, don't." Hunter scolded. He sat up and looked at the bird.

"Play" Flapjack chirped "miss"

"I'm not any good." Hunter huffed. Flapjack grabbed the case in their talons and flew it over to the witch.

"Play" Flapjack chirped insistently. Hunter sighed. He knew that the palisman would not stop annoying him till he played the instrument. Hunter took it out of the case for the first time since he went to see... since Head Witch Whispers ended his lessons.

"Fine," Hunter said. With that he played a B then D then G. He continued on through the song that Head Witch Whispers had taught him on their last lesson. It was nowhere near as pretty as when Head Witch Whispers had demonstrated it and he hasn't played it in two weeks.

Despite that Flapjack chirped along with the flute. They hopped on the bed as if they were dancing. This made Hunter feel more comfortable with playing. Hunter closed his eyes and focused on playing. He had to admit that he enjoyed playing the instrument. Finally, he played the last E ending of the song.

"Pretty" Flapjack tweeted. Despite himself, Hunter smiled at the palisman.

"I should hope so," Hunter said. "This is as good as I'm ever getting."

After all, how could he improve if he didn't have a teacher?

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

A Deafened Bard (Stephen Strange x Female!Reader) pt. 2

Doctor Strange and y/n confide their tragic backstories in one another. Y/n struggles with her feelings for him.

Trigger warnings: abusive parenting, use of firearms, discussion of death and grief, mention of alcoholism

"On the outside, always looking in

Will I ever be more than I've always been?

Cause I'm tap, tap, tapping on the glass-"

You stopped yourself before you could indulgently belt out the titular lyric.

"Ew, why was I singing that?" You muttered to yourself. "I don't even like that song." 

You knew, subconsciously, that it was because you were trying to avoid what you really wanted to sing. For the first time ever, you had an audience. Someone was paying attention. 

"Love of my life, you've hurt me-"

"Oh, come on, butterfingers." He interrupted. "Love of my Life by Freddie Mercury. Give me something hard." 

"I wasn't aware it was classic rock trivia night." 

"Then why were you staring straight at me while singing?" He smirked. 

"Was I?" You cocked your head, expertly deflecting his implication. "I'm so spaced out I don't even know where I'm looking." 

"It's Freddie Mercury." He insisted.

"Uh, yes and no." You corrected, drawing on your encyclopedic knowledge of Queen from one particularly weird summer in high school. "While Freddie Mercury wrote the song, it was recorded on a Night at the Opera. Which was accredited to the whole band." 

"That's a nitpick," he shook his head. "I'm still right." 

You couldn't wear your heart on your sleeve anymore. You could only distract him with 70s glam rock trivia for so long before he started to notice a pattern. Although a sappy love song was in your heart, you sang the anthem of the depressed theater kid. 

You were staring straight at him, though. But who wouldn't? You studied his features only for artistic inspiration. His sharp jaw and high, high cheekbones were… inspiring. 

You couldn't lie to yourself. You fell and fell hard.

"Butterfingers!" Master Strange called out from the other side of the sanctum. "I need you!" 

You dropped your pencil and pushed yourself out from the chair. "Coming!" 

You followed the voice into his chambers. This was a new development, you thought. Out of respect for his privacy, you'd never dared to snoop around in his bedroom. But this was practically a written invitation. 

The room was spotless. Not a book or a scrap of paper out of place. Nor was there much to look at at all. A handful of picture frames, some magazines from when he was a surgeon, all featuring himself on the cover. 

"Butterfingers!" He called again, as if he knew you were about to snoop.

"I'm here!" You yelled back, eyes wandering around the room. "What do you need?" 

"I left my watch somewhere in the library!" He sounded disproportionately panicked for what was just a minor inconvenience. "I need you to go get it for me." 

"What does it look like?" You asked. 

"It's a $27,000 watch." He snapped impatiently. "It looks like one." 

"Jesus." You cursed.

"Don't give me that shit, [F/N]." He ordered, slamming his fist down against the sink. "Just do what you're goddamn told." 

"Alright, alright!" You put your hands up. "Fine, I'll get it." 

You hurried down the stairs and into the library. On the floor between his favorite chair and a stack of musty old books was a slim, silvery watch with a plain black band.

You picked it up and examined it. Apart from the price tag, was there really any reason for him to be so worried about it? He knew exactly where he left it. Did he have reason to believe it wouldn't be there when he returned? 

All you needed to do was flip it over to get your answer. You read the inscription on the back. 

Time will tell how much I love you -- Christine 

You should have known that his massive ego wouldn’t keep the women away forever. Hell, it certainly didn’t deter you. Much uglier douchebags have gotten far prettier girlfriends than they deserved.

You closed your fingers around the watch and sighed. The fantasy you created for yourself, of slowly, deliberately earning his love was shattered. Christine already beat you to it, it seemed. You tried to smother the part of you that resented this person for her exclusive right to Master Strange's affections. You didn't know her, but you loathed her. And you felt filthy for it.

With a heavy heart, you brought the stupid, criminally expensive little timepiece back to its rightful owner. 

"Here's your all-important watch, master." You mumbled, placing it on the bedside table. 

"I know I told you I would give you space to question things," He said, swiping it from the table and expertly affixing it around his wrist. "But I'd really appreciate it if you didn't question this." 

You tried to sound as non-passive-aggressive as you could. You attempted a more forgiving tone, but you couldn't hide your hurt. "It's fine. I don't care." 

"I didn't mean to get short with you, [F/N]." His voice softened. "I'm sorry. But this watch-" 

"It's fine." You cut him off, peering at the floor. 

"It was a gift." He finished anyway. 

You felt the lump in your throat rising. You knew what the watch represented and you wanted to smash it to pieces. Along with the sting of rejection, you felt the sting of tears in your eyes. "I know. I saw the engraving."

"She died two years ago." He lowered his head. 

Suddenly, all your ill will towards this woman turned into guilt. 

"I'm sorry to hear that." You said. "I can't imagine what it's like to lose someone who loved you so much." 

"She had agreed to come to a speaking engagement with me. As a second chance, and-" Pain wrapped his voice. He closed his hand tightly around the watch and held it close to his chest. "Have you ever been in love before, [F/N]?"

From the way your heart ached, and how easily the thought of never being with him made you cry, you knew the answer. You'd been avoiding speaking it into being thus far, but you couldn't lie to yourself anymore.

"Yes." You whispered. 

"You'll learn soon enough." He muttered. "It only brings more suffering." 

The tears finally breached and you tried to blink them away. You didn't know what emotion was causing them: guilt, shame, contempt, anger, sadness-- they were all present.

"Master Strange, I-" you stuttered, tripping over your breath. "I respect what you've gone through, I really do, but it's not fair to take it out on me." 

"You're right." He conceded. "I'm sorry. Please, go get some sleep.”

You nodded. “Right.” 

You slept as late as you could get away with the next morning. In apprentice terms, that only meant sleeping until eight thirty. Your dailies could wait an extra hour while you laid in bed, feeling like garbage. 

You stumbled down the spiral staircase in your pajamas. No bra, no makeup and no effort. You didn’t even run a brush through your hair. Why try, you thought. Why make an effort for the man who would never see you as anything but the help? 

When you saw the piano, though, you did a full 180.

In the living area was a French cherry baby grand piano that definitely was not there before. You certainly would have noticed it before. You placed your phone on the counter and approached the new addition. 

As if the memories were woven into the very muscles and ligaments of your fingers, you ran down a few octaves of C Major. The keys were smooth as porcelain and the sound that emanated from the instrument was next to heavenly. 

A bright orange post-it note was stuck to the music rack. 

“Love of my Life”, Queen, A Night at the Opera. 1975 

Was this a request, or an admission of wrong? Whatever the case, it made you smile. 

"You weren't being entirely honest with me, Butterfingers." He said, randomly materializing behind you. 

You turned around on the piano bench and looked up at him. "What was I not honest about?" 

"I'm so glad you asked." He sat down on the bench next to you, phone in hand. "Because when you said you used to play piano, you didn't specify you were actually a student prodigy." 

Sure enough, on his phone, he was scrolling through your Instagram. Dozens of videos of a much younger [F/N] playing hundreds of different songs, singing with too many vocal runs and doing so with the entire content of her soul behind the music. 

"Student prodigy is a bit strong." You turned your head to hide your blush. 

He scrolled up and found a picture of a young, zit-faced teenage [F/N] holding an acceptance letter. "Last I checked, Juilliard doesn't give full-ride scholarships to just anyone." 

You covered your face with your hands, smothering an embarrassed smile. "God, please. I'd rather you'd found my OnlyFans." 

He raised his eyebrows. "As tempting as that sounds, I'd still rather hear your explanation on this. Why did you give up on something you loved?"

You looked at him in surprise. "You really want to know?" 

"Well, I told you mine." He playfully nudged you in the side. 

You took a deep breath in. "Well, it was about two years ago, now-”

"Cheers to you, [F/N]!" Your best friend Holly raised her glass of champagne in your direction. "Juilliard ain't gonna know what hit ‘em."

"I'll drink to that." You said, bring your own flute up to your lips and taking a swig. You wretched in disgust as the vile liquid ran down your throat. "Or maybe I won't."

"You're gonna have to get used to it." Holly nudged you with her elbow. "I think most professional musicians are alcoholics."

You narrowed your eyes at her. "I don't think that's right."

"Is too." She smirked. "Conductors are mad strict. Abusive even. Drive musicians to drink all the time."

You laughed. "Is everything you know about the world of music from Whiplash?"

"And The Perfection." She added.

"Thank you, Holly." You said, attempting to take another sip of champagne, purely for dramatic effect. "Very cool."

You felt a pair of hands on your shoulders. "Hi, Holly. Enjoying the party?"

Holly took a step back. "Hey, Mrs. [L/N]. Yeah, it's great."

"I hope you don't mind," Your mom said, her fake nice voice eeking through her clenched teeth. "I need to borrow [F/N] for a few minutes."

Holly's face fell. "Sure. I'll catch up with you later, [F/N]."

Your mother tugged you off to the side. With a stressed huff, she began. "Jason is out in the fields with his ROTC friends."

"And what do you want me to do about that?" You asked, knowing her drunk self couldn't read your sarcastic tone.

"Could you go get him and bring him home?" She said, squeezing your upper arm.

"Are you kidding?" You spat.

"[F/N], he's drunk." She scolded. "Do you want him to get another strike on his record?"

"I don't care." You mumbled under your breath. "Have him call an uber. Hell, let him sleep it off in the field. Not my problem."

"You know what he's like when he's drunk." She rationalized. "He gets rowdy. It had better be you."

You tensed up. "No. Holly and I are going to the French Quarter. I don't have time to babysit Jason."

"Just pick him up on your way there?" She pleaded. "It won't take long."

You knew this wasn't going to stop. "Fine, but this is the last time."

You were both dressed far too well to be trekking through the swampy ass nowhere when you should have been fucking your way through the French Quarter. Luckily for your evening plans, all you needed to do was follow the sound of gunshots.

You slammed the car door shut and Holly followed suit. Finding him was the easy part. The hard part was hauling his drunk ass back home.

"Fun's over, shithead." You announced, heels sinking into the sod as you spoke. You didn't have much trouble projecting over the gunfire and getting their attention.

"Shit, [F/N]?" Jason sputtered, so drunk he could barely keep his head straight.

"Holy shit, I didn't even recognize you in that dress." One of his dumb fuck friends added. He jabbed Jason in the side. "Why didn't you tell me your sister's hot?"

"Buster, I-'' You clenched your teeth. "I don't care if you live or die, but my mom needs me to bring Jason home."

"If you get in the car now, we won't have to use the chloroform." Holly added.

Jason scratched the back of his head with the barrel of his gun, then pointed it at you. "You're gonna have to make me."

"Jesus fucking Christ!" You exclaimed, hitting the deck. "What the fuck, Jason!?"

Jason and his dumbass friends laughed. "You should have seen the look on your face, [F/N]!"

"Put down the fucking gun-" You seethed. "And get in the fucking car."

He lowered the gun and looked like he was going to concede. Just when you thought he would cooperate, he stuck it up again. He keeled over in a fit of laughter when you and Holly panicked again.

"Look at them!" He shouted. "They're so fucking scared!"

You knew out in the middle of the swamp, nobody could hear you scream. So you used it to your advantage.

"Jason, you're going in the car, or under it." You raised your voice. "I will mow your drunk ass down like eight day old roadkill right here in this field and you will be LUCKY if anyone finds your bloated, shit-covered remains before the crocodiles get a whiff of you."

That seemed to get his attention.

"Sorry, boys." He pouted. "You heard her."

He had to 'get you' one final time, though. Only that time, the gun went off. Just centimeters from your ear. You clutched the side of your head, trying to drown out the deafening ringing with your screams.

You vaguely remembered Holly pistol-whipping Jason before loading you into the car to drive you to the hospital, leaving him desolate and drunk in the field.

"It was a one-in-a-million shot." The otolaryngologist tried not to sound impressed at what was clearly some kind of anomaly very few got to witness in a medical career. "When the bullet fired, the gunpowder traveled down your ear canal, burning the cells of your auditory nervous system and... singing your eardrum... clean off."

Your eyes widened. "Off?!"

The doctor lowered her head. "I'm sorry, Miss [L/N]. I'm afraid you'll never return to full hearing again."

You didn't want to kill the messenger. You knew she was only doing her job. "Are you fucking kidding me?!"

"If we could do a tympanoplasty, which, given the condition of the drum, is unlikely-" she began. "There would still be no way to fully repair the hair cells along the ear canal."

You took deep breaths to try and quell your simmering rage. "I'm leaving for Juilliard in three months."

"Hearing aid technology has improved significantly over the last decade." She said, a somewhat hopeful upturn in her voice.

That was when your mother decided to join in on the conversation. "Oh, we can't afford that."

You thought you were going to crush your teeth into bits from how tightly your jaw was clenched in fury. "Take it out of Jason's college fund, then."

"Oh, [F/N]." She said as if you had just told the funniest joke imaginable. "Please. That wouldn't be fair to Jason."

"You can afford to send that blithering idiot to the Citadel." You hissed. "You can afford to buy me a hearing aid so I can play piano."

"Beethoven was entirely deaf." Your mom pointed out. "And he became the greatest composer of all time. It's really just mind over matter, sweetie-"

"Sure, that makes perfect sense!" You plastered on a deranged smile, feeling driven to the brink of madness. "I can repair my destroyed eardrum with the power of positive thinking! Jason gets thirty-five thousand dollars a year to play soldier, but I have to just use my imagination."

She covered her face with her hands as if she was being attacked and went into kicked-puppy mode. "Don't be mad at Jason, [F/N]. He didn't mean to hurt you-"

"Fuck this." You said, releasing all your tension in those two words. "Fuck all of this. I'm tired of you defending that chauvinist asshole. The next time you see me will be when one of us is dead."

"Where are you going?!" She wailed.

You snatched your purse from the table and threw it over your shoulder. "I'm moving out."

“Disgraced at age nineteen?" Master Strange said, leaning back on the piano. "Let me guess, you turned to alcohol to cope?"

"You'd think, but actually no." You shook your head. The tone of the conversation had taken a sharp left turn from sadness to dry, apathetic amusement. "I probably would have if I could have afforded it."

"You missed out." He said. "Drinking a whole bottle of eighty year old scotch was definitely the highlight of my grieving period."

You'd never joined the clauses 'Master Strange' and 'drunk off his ass' in the same sentence before then. It was an odd mental picture for sure. One you needed to see to believe.

"I got desperate." You admitted. "Luckily, New Orleans had a lot to offer someone like me, so I didn't have to go far to find people claiming to have answers. But it was all essential oils, incense, binaural beats-"

"I'm sorry," he cut in. "What kind of dickhead suggests binaural beats to someone with only one functioning ear?"

You threw up your hands. "Right? Doesn't make sense. Anyway, I came across a woman named Mistress Fantina and she pointed me in the right direction. How to heal my body through control of my spirit."

He looked at you with that fascination of the human body characteristic of those in the medical field. "It worked, I assume?"

"I figured it out." You shrugged. "But I got so invested in the Mystic Arts that I forgot all about Juilliard. Became a full-time student. Ever since, I never once thought about returning to my old life."

"I suppose if I'd discovered this world because I had lost, say, my ability to perform surgery, it would be hard to leave it behind and return to the operating room." He thought out loud. Sighing, he closed his hand over his watch. "But no matter how medical science evolves, you can't reverse death."

You let the quiet linger for a moment.

[pillage-and-lute]

An Ever Fixed Mark (Part 5)

This is pretty par for the course as far as some slightly horny bits but no actual horniness. Still, if that squicks you, read with caution. 

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, (here) Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10,

Read it on Ao3 HERE

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The next few days of Geralt’s marriage didn’t fare much better than the first. He and Jaskier were truly an ill match. Sure, the young man was charming, not even Geralt was immune to his wiles, and he was certainly easy on the eyes, but he’d never met someone as annoying as Jaskier.

Jaskier could talk a mile a minute, and the less Geralt talked, the more Jaskier did. This rankled. Geralt had learned that talking less was supposed to encourage less conversation, but clearly Jaskier hadn’t grasped that.

Far worse than the talking was the singing. Singing, humming, tapping, even playing his lute, Jaskier was always doing something. It was like riding beside a musical whirlwind, with the added penalty that at least a whirlwind wouldn’t know lyrics.

It wasn’t totally Jaskier, Geralt knew. They were riding hard to get as far from Lettenhove as possible, and the weather hadn’t let up. It had rained for almost five days, steady, drenching rain, with never enough time to get dry. They went to bed damp and woke up damper. Their socks were moist, their hair sopping. Jaskier was pouting because he couldn’t play his lute and somehow that made him more talkative. Despite the springtime, the rain was cold and sometimes he had to pause mid chatter to shiver. All this, made Geralt’s mood go south. Worse, he always hated parting from his brothers. There were so few of them, the first days without them were hard. 

And he had to deal with some spoiled little rich boy.

That wasn’t being fair to Jaskier, he rarely acted spoiled, not  really spoiled. It was, however, intensely clear that he was used to comfort and they were not, right now, comfortable. He didn’t complain too much about things Geralt couldn’t change, like the weather, apart from the odd sniffle about all his clothes being wet. He did beg to stay in an inn though. 

That bothered Geralt too. They really had little money, and here the lad was trying to get Geralt to spend it on something they didn’t need. He’d survived rain before.

That thought gave Geralt pause. Of course he’d survived rain before, but had Jaskier? It was unlikely. Days and nights of being slightly damp and chilly weren’t good for humans, they tended to get things. Like chest infections. And pneumonia. 

Geralt spared a glance at the figure riding, hunched, beside him.

Unfortunately, Jaskier seemed to take this as an invitation. 

“I can’t wait to get to Oxenfurt,” he said. “I have this friend, Essi, I think you’d love her. She’d certainly love to meet you, and she’s quite pretty, so even if you won’t tell me your stories perhaps you’d tell them to her.”

Was there a hint of bitterness there?

“Anyway,” Jaskier continued. “She wouldn’t be frightened of you in the least, I know because one time we were drunk... well, I was drunk and she was tipsy, and this man came up, really rough looking type you know? And I was raised to be polite so I ask him his business...”

Geralt stopped paying much attention. If the bard could manage that much, all in one breath, he was fine. Jaskier continued, all about this Essi character and a man trying to mug them in an alley. Apparently the girl had kicked him in the rattle and flute so hard he’d thrown up.

“And there’s this great pub,” Jaskier was saying, gesturing broadly with one hand and flinging raindrops into Geralt’s face. “It’s called the King’s Boots, dunno why, but it’s got good ale. Like, really good, not the swill you probably get in these little backwater towns. Pretty barmaids, too, if that takes you fancy.”

There it was again, that odd little inflection.

“It took my fancy, when I was a student there, of course. They weren’t terribly interested in me but, well, I began studying there at fifteen. Really, I still had spots. I wasn’t the catch you see before you now.”

Geralt didn’t deign to respond. Whether or not Jaskier was a catch wasn’t something he was going to weigh in on. 

Even if he definitely had an opinion.

That was maybe the worst of it all. In spite of the constant noise and restless intrusion into Geralt’s life and routine, he did like Jaskier. That was good, considering they were married, but he wanted to kiss Jaskier, at least once. Just to try it out. That was bad because their marriage was about a half inch from being a sham. Married in name only.

“What sort of ladies do you get?” Jaskier was asking. “I mean, it’s obvious you never have any trouble finding partners.”

Geralt thought of a woman in the woods, of Blaviken, of blood. 

“Shut up.”

“No really, Geralt,” Jaskier whinged. “I wan’t to know. Queens and mages? Legendary beauties.”

“Prostitutes.”

“Ah, legendary beauties it is then.”

“I don’t know about legendary,” Geralt said, cursing himself as he did so for encouraging this inane line of questioning. “But they were beautiful enough. For a price.”

“Ah the ladies and gentlemen of negotiable affection will forever have a place in my heart,” Jaskier sighed. Geralt wasn’t about to hear Jaskier’s sexual history in any capacity. For his sanity, he decided to shut the conversation down.

“I expect they’re the only ones willing to touch you.”

Shit. That one had been too harsh. He didn’t mean it, surely men and women and people all fell at Jaskier’s feet with even a glimpse of his smile. He must know he’s attractive.

Jaskier barely spoke the rest of the day. He wasn’t even pouting, exactly. Just...quiet. 

They made camp under cover of some trees. The thick canapy leant enough dryness that Geralt could build a big fire and they hung their clothes over some low branches to dry. Out of the corner of his eye Geralt saw Jaskier take the basilisk leather from his pack and stroke a hand over it, which was strange. The material simply didn’t absorb water and needed no care.

Perhaps he just...liked it. It was a nice thought, sitting sort of warm and heavy in Geralt’s stomach, like a good meat pie. Jaskier liked his gift. Of course, he’d known that, back the day they’d met. That actually, apart from Jaskier’s father, hadn’t been too bad of a day.

Geralt thought about that day as he hunted wild game for their supper. He snagged a pheasant, a male, because it was mating season, and remembered how nervous he’d been, how at ease Jaskier had seemed. Perhaps it was because Jaskier had likely always known it would be, at least somewhat, a political match. Geralt had never thought there’d be a match at all.

Back at camp Jaskier had water boiling and was sitting in front of the roaring fire in just his trousers and chemise, even his socks so damp as to need a good drying. Geralt set the game to boil with a few wild carrots for a stew and sat beside him, feeling his hair finally begin to dry.

“This didn’t start out bad,” he said. He meant them, of course, and he meant it as a sort of apology, even if he knew it was woefully lacking. He just didn’t know what to say. Somehow, Jaskier’s mind must have been running along the same track.

It’s alright. You never wanted to get married to me.”

No, Geralt thought but didn’t say. I never wanted to get married. It has nothing to do with you. There’s nothing at all the matter with you. I’m just a grumpy bastard and we’re not a good fit.

A little voice in the back of Geralt’s head said, ‘you could be. If you let yourself, you could fit’. It sounded unnervingly like Eskel.

The truth was, if it had been anyone besides Jaskier, especially any noble, Geralt may have hated all this more. Jaskier liked nice clothes and clean appearances, but he wasn’t vain. He liked nice things but wasn’t greedy. He craved praise but wasn’t prideful, disliked many things but wasn’t hateful. Compared to the thieving, conniving, small minded nobles Geralt knew, he was unlike them all. 

He was definitely unlike his father. 

Jaskier played his slow tune on his lute. It was comforting and almost familiar, just background music. Geralt stirred the pot, breaking up some larger chunks of meat with the spoon. 

Maybe this would fix some things. They’d be dry, with hot food. That could fix a lot.

“Geralt,” Jaskier asked. “Can I sing?” 

Damn. Well, it was weird the lad was asking for permission, but Geralt didn’t like the idea of controlling the man’s voice, no matter how often he told him to ‘shut up’. Somehow it didn’t feel the same.

“Whatever,” he said.

Jaskier sang lowly, voice pitched at the edge of human hearing. Geralt wasn’t a human, of course, and could hear it clear as day. It was a folk song he’d heard before, a tragedy about a young woman who’s love left and she drowned herself.

It didn’t seem fitting. Jaskier was so lively. Geralt prayed he hadn’t fucked up enought that he’d dampened the bards spirit. 

“Do you know The Chandler’s Wife?” Geralt asked when Jaskier’s song was done.

“That one, with the” Jaskier clicked his fingers three times, mimicking the snapping or tapping that happened in the song.

“Hmmm,” Geralt confirmed, nudging the contents of the pot.

Jaskier began to play. It was a bawdy song, with tapping substituted where innuendo would be. It was simple and cheerful and short, and by the time it was finished they both had steaming bowls of stew. 

“Of all the songs you could have asked for,” Jaskier said, blowing on his stew. “I never would have picked that one.”

“Lambert’s favorite,” Geralt grunted.

Jaskier chuckled. “Makes sense, seems like his sort of song.” He took a large spoonful of stew and groaned in delight. Geralt very emphatically did not pay attention to that sound in any way at all.

“I expect you miss them,” Jaskier said.

“Some,” Geralt didn’t want to talk about it, so he focused on shoveling stew in to his mouth instead. Jaskier got the hint. He just settled one tentative hand on Geralt’s shoulder for a second, then went back to eating. He may as well have pressed a brand to Geralt’s skin.

That night, in their separate bedrolls in mostly dry and fire warmed clothes, Geralt could still feel Jaskier’s palm against him. 

There was another reason, Geralt knew, for his over-grumpiness. It was guilt. Mostly he was alright, but hearing Jaskier chatter excitedly about Oxenfurt and all the things they could do together there...ate at him. 

Jaskier had said he didn’t want to be left. Gotten rid of, had been his phrasing. And Geralt was going to. This rain had just been proof, though. Next time it could be pneumonia or hypothermia. The boy shouldn’t be out here. 

It didn’t help Geralt sleep much better. Jaskier had also used the phrase ‘abandon’. 

-- -- *-- --

The next village had a monster problem. 

“Drowners, what do they do?”

“They drown people, Jaskier.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “No, I meant, what do they look like--”

“Ugly.”

Another eye roll. “And how do they do it. Do they spin like an alligator? Do they sink claws in and pull...?”

“The second one,” Geralt said, sharpening his sword. He figured they were far enough from Lettenhove that whatever political turmoil Vesemir had unleashed wasn’t going to catch them too soon. 

“I can’t wait. Do they have scales? Fins? Are they slimy like frogs?”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, finally paying attention. “What do you mean ‘you can’t wait?”

“I get to see you in action! Heroic witcher risks his life for helpless townspeople, it’s all very...Galahad.”

“Galahad?”

“Yes Geralt, he’s only the most famous hero written about in the last three hundred years,” Jaskier said. He was gesturing broadly, the way he always did when talking about literature. Geralt settled in for a rant. 

“You know, ‘my strength is as the strength of ten becasuer my heart is pure,’?” That was Jaskier’s quoting voice.

“Never heard it,” Geralt grunted.

“That’s okay, it’s about this hero who’s good and saves everybody. You’re better than him anyway because you’re real.”

“I’m...better than a mythical hero.”

“I mean...yeah,” Jaskier said like it was obvious. “Everyone knows flaws make a character better. You’re totally hot with a heart of gold, score. Very classic. But also,” Jaskier turned to him grinning. “You’re emotionally constipated and smell like onion.”

“You said heroics a few days ago.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, whatever, that’s what’ll go in the songs. Best of all is that you’re a witcher. Nobody likes witchers but that can change. You’ll be a tragic hero!”

“Tragic?”

“That hair is, do you ever brush it?

“We’re getting away from the point,” Geralt said, resisting the urge to swipe his fingers through his hair. “You aren’t going to see me fight.”

“What, you can’t just leave me at camp!”

No, no he absolutely couldn’t just leave Jaskier at camp. There could be assassins, wolves, anything.

“We’ll get a room at the inn.”

“Really? Oh Geralt, a real bed would be so nice, there’s been this crick in my neck, but you’re not leaving me in an inn room either.”

“You could perform.”

“Excellent bait, but no.”

“Jaskier, please. You need to stay in town,” Geralt was pleading. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been pleading. Probably when he was trying to convince Vesemir not to marry him off for the betterment of witcherkind.

“I want to see you fight!” 

“It’s dangerous!.”

“You fight tons of these, right? I’ll stay super far away.”

“You could still get hurt, something goes wrong and you’ll get hurt! Humans are...soft.”

Jaskier tilted his chin up defiantly. Because they were the same height this wasn’t exactly necessary, but it gave Geralt a better view of his simply devastating eyes which was...not helping.

“I have the perfect plan,” Jaskier said. Were there silver flecks in his eyes? In this light Geralt was almost certain there were.

“I’ll stay back,” Jaskier was saying. “Any distance you want so long as I still get a reasonably good view. And I’ll wear the basilisk doublet.”

It was a good idea. Jaskier would stay back, the doublet would keep him safe. 

Geralt might get another chance to be smiled at byJaskier.

Doublets. Doublets, doublets doublets. Think about the doublet. 

“That would only keep your chest and arms safe.”

Jaskier smirked and patted a hand on Geralt’s chest, causing his slow heart to speed up just a little. “Are you going to let a drowner get to me? Get to my head, Geralt? My pretty face?” Jaskier pouted and Geralt’s stomach flipped over.

“Fine,” Geralt grunted. “You can come along.”

Jaskier looked very fine, all buttoned up in his basilisk leather doublet, and he was surprisingly quiet. This area of the forest was silent. and the ground was soft and slightly damp underfoot. They were near the Pontar river, which they would follow the rest of the way to Oxenfurt.

Here and there Geralt could see signs of human activity, but thankfully no humans in the area. Signs of woodcutters, likely the ill-fated ones who’d discovered the drowner’s pond in the first place, were scattered about. 

They came within view of the pond. More swamp, really. It was so covered in green algae that it looked like some sort of oddly paved floor. It was as still as glass. Geralt took Jaskier’s--surprisingly strong--shoulder in one large hand and steered the boy to a log that he deemed was sufficiently far to be safe. Then he drew his sword.

Drowners weren’t hard to fight, and here in this little pond there were just two, skinny and hungry. Geralt felt relief flood him as he realized that he wouldn’t even need his potions. He didn’t want Jaskier to finally understand what a monster he was. Geralt was enjoying putting off that realization as long as possible. He was also enjoying being a noble hero, likened to this Galahad character, who sounded alright if a bit boring. 

Geralt rolled his shoulders. He didn’t need to, but it looked nice and Jaskier was looking. The first drowner was close, now, trying to sneak through the algae, but Geralt’s vision was much better than its. He waited until the wretched thing lunged. 

The slash of the drowner’s long claws missed Geralt narrowly, but he hadn’t been worried. He pivoted, working on years of instinct. This was who he was. Here he was on much safer ground than with courting and castles. He was a witcher, and fighting monster’s was what he was trained, and to some extent built, for. 

The first slash didn’t kill the drowner, instead lopping off the arm that had so recently threatened to claw his eyes out. Then, with a clever twist of his wrist he sent his blade back the other direction, lopping off the head. It had taken all of a second from the point of the drowner’s lunge. 

It’s companion was slinking up, ready to attack as well but Geralt didn’t need time to recharge. His senses honed in, he felt his pupils dilate to take in the low light coming between the trees and he leapt.

No normal man could have made the leap that sent him over the drowner’s shoulder and onto the shore behind. It hadn’t been the full length of the pond, but rather a diagonal leap that gave him just enough time as the creature spun around. Geralt brought his sword down and cleaved the thing in two.

“Holy shit.”

Geralt looked up, not even breathing hard.

Jaskier was still in his spot on the log. Unlike Geralt, he was breathing hard. There was a flush across the tops of his cheeks, pretty and pink, and his eyes were wide. Even from his spot across the pond Geralt could see the dark pupils and the blue of his irises. 

Gerals severed the heads and warned Jaskier that he was removing the brains for his potions. His response was a squeaked ‘okay’. 

Damn. Had he scared the lad? He didn’t smell scared. Geralt wasn’t sure what Jaskier did smell like. 

He took the brains quickly and packaged them, then slung the heads of the drowner’s from Roach’s saddle. 

Thunderbolt, Jaskier’s horse, had been left at the inn. Inaccurately named, the creature, despite his large size, was docile, gentle, and prone to startling. 

Geralt dipped his hands in the scummy water and dried them on his pants to at least get off the worst of the gunk.

“Well?” he asked Jaskier.

“Wow,” the man said, stepping closer. “That was quick, too.”

Geralt grunted. “Only two.” He didn’t bother mounting up, leading Jaskier and Roach out of the forest and back towards town. 

Jaskier’s heart still sounded like it was going a little fast.

“Frightened?” Geralt asked. The lad smelled like adrenaline and...oh.

“No, just...exhilarated I suppose. I’ve never seen a battle like it.”

Jaskier smelled aroused. Now that Geralt had realized what it was it was all he could smell. The scent clogged his nose and set his brain in a pink, fuzzy cloud. Did Jaskier think...? Would he want..?

Except, of course not. Everyone knew you could get sort of adrenaline high. Plenty of young warriors got a little...stiff after a battle. And being nineteen, Jaskier probably got, got in that situation, with a light breeze. 

He was looking up at Geralt like he’d personally hung the moon, though. No one had ever, as long as he could remember, looked at him that way. There is a certain kind of beauty that comes with being kind to someone, Geralt knew. He hadn’t often seen it. Eskel had scars across his face that were frightening even to some other witchers but his friendship and care towards Geralt always blurred those over.

Now, in this fetid, swamp of a forest, Jaskier was developing that special beauty to Geralt as well. 

He was loud and talked all the time, even now that he seemed to have regained his wits he was chattering about what he’d write. His voice sounded less harsh in Geralt’s ears, though. Because Jaskier thought Geralt was special, and that made him special in return. 

They made it back to the inn, with a brief stop at the alderman’s house, muddy to the knee, although that wasn’t new. Geralt was also somewhat bloodspattered, which was horrible and wasn’t winning him favors with the townsfolk. 

“Got a room?” he asked the innkeeper, a bent old man that Geralt could probably lift on one finger. As is the wont of many smart inkeepers, there was a taproom on the first floor of the inn, and he was industriously cleaning mugs. 

“One,” the man said. “One room, one bed. No prostitutes, them ladies’ gotta do business elsewhere.”Geralt nodded and handed over the coin. 

“Bathouse in town?” he asked. They followed the old inkeeper’s directions to the edge of town, near the river. 

“I can’t wait for a good bed,” Jaskier said. “But I think I’m looking forward to this bath even more. I think my dirt has dirt on it, and my hair is disgusting. Yours too, will you let me wash it?”

Geralt wasn’t listening, also looking forward to the bath. He hummed in response.

“I hope it’s hot,” Jaskier continued. “No, hotter than that, I hope it’s boiling. I want to feel like a carrot in a stew pot when I get in.”

“You’d be a turnip,” Geralt said without thinking.

Jaskier sniffed. “And you’d be an onion.”

Geralt almost chuckled at that. The only reason he didn’t was that, at this moment, it was probably almost true. They both smelled pretty ripe. Jaskier had been correct, too, about there being layers to the grime. Geralt could almost peel himself. Like an onion.

“Anyway, I think I’d be something special, like a dash of pepper or, oh! I’d be a tomato.”

That caught Geralt off guard. 

“What.”

“A tomato, when they’re cooked just right so they almost burst when you cut into them and the juice explodes all over your mouth.”

Geralt wasn’t going to think about any juices of any kind exploding all over anyone’s mouth. Especially not Jaskier’s mouth, with it’s pink lips and clever, wicked tongue that darted out from time to time to wet them. 

“Don’t you think so, Geralt, aren’t I a tomato?”

“Hmmm.”

Jaskier did it again! It was liable to take Geralt’s sanity, the sight of him wetting his chapped lips like that. Maybe if he didn’t speak so much, worse, if he didn’t bite those lips so much, they wouldn’t be so chapped. For some reason Geralt had an insane desire to smear ointment across Jaskier’s lips with his own fingers. 

They would feel so soft.

Geralt paid the bath house attendant and they followed directions to a separate area in the low, stone building, where they could strip off and have a sort of sponge bath. This was of course so that they didn’t get dirt and monster guts in the bath, and was done with each in their own little three-walled wooden stall. Geralt had to call for a second bucket of water to get the guts from his hair. 

Sufficiently scrubbed, he stepped out into the main baths. Only then did he realize the crucial fault in his plan. They were open plan baths. Jaskier was beside him wearing nothing but a towel. Geralt, likewise in a towel, began to sweat. 

He kept his eyes firmly forward and cursed his excellent witchery peripheral vision because he could see...see Jaskier. Dark chest hair, soft and slightly damp. The way a droplet of water trailed from the back of his hair and down his neck, wetting tender skin.

Fuck. 

Jaskier walked towards the bath as if nothing was amiss. Of course, nothing was amiss, they were just two traveling companions. Having a bath. For Melitele’s sake they were married, even.

Geralt saw Jaskier’s foot hit a wet patch and the young man’s steps faltered, sliding a little. Geralt caught him with all his witcher speed, feeling Jaskier collide with his chest. Those blue eyes again, and yes, definitely silver in them. 

Jaskier was blushing, whether from proximity or steam, Geralt didn’t know. He leaned in. Jaskier’s tongue wet those inviting lips again. 

“You missed a spot on your cheek,” Geralt said, drawing back. He hadn’t been sure it wasn’t just a freckle, but it was definitely a bit of dirt. Jaskier sighed.

“Better get in and wash it off, then.”

Why did he sound dissapointed?

Geralt looked away as Jaskier released his towel and slid into the water, doing the same and waiting a second until he was absolutely sure it was safe to look. Jaskier had his head tilted back to rest against the floor, where the bath was sunk into the ground. Geralt sat next to him on the little ledge and let the warmth hit his muscles. It wasn’t boiling as Jaskier had hoped, but it was warm and lovely. The day’s fight hadn’t set any ache into Geralt’s muscles, but the days of sitting tensed up about Jaskier had, and he let them drift away.

Next to him Jaskier hummed contentedly and Geralt couldn’t help but agree. They lingered, not speaking, in the warm baths until they were truly pruny. Geralt neatly had to drag Jaskier out, but couldn’t risk Jaskier becoming too drowsy and drowning. 

They toweled off and redressed and were back at the inn in time for supper and for Jaskier to play. 

Geralt sat in the back of the small taproom, glowering about at anyone who looked like they might get close. He would have gladly gone up to their room and not bothered but Jaskier was performing. He couldn’t leave the bard there, where anyone could attack him, or ply him with too much alcohol and rob him or worse. Besides, he was curious.

Jaskier was capable, in an odd sort of way that was so far different from what Geralt was used to, but he was good at things. There was nothing he tried that he seemed to be terribly bad at. Geralt wasn’t a good judge of music, but he wanted to see if this applied to performing.

As he’d suspected, it did. Jaskier was masterful. Not only was his music top notch, but all his energy, the liveliness, the live wire electricity of him was directed when he performed. Normally, all that energy seemed to make Jaskier’s thoughts and actions a little disorganized, almost mess. Here, in this dingy little tavern, it made him radiant. Every eye was watching, every gaze enthralled, at least for a short time. If Geralt’s medallion hadn’t lain still on his chest he would have called it magic. 

It was incredibly sexy. This was Jaskier in his element, fierce and confident and wearing the doublet Geralt had given him. 

That struck a strange little shiver down Geralt’s spine. A piece of Geralt, prancing about, tied to Jaskier. The gift of the wolves of Kaer Morhen shimmered and twisted with his movements, the black pearl buttons catching dim light. Every eye was on Jaskier, some more salaciously than others, but Geralt couldn’t have cared less. He wouldn’t have cared even if someone had kissed Jaskier there and then. Geralt had no claim to Jaskier like that, they were only married in name. But they were married, and somehow Jaskier so proudly wearing that doublet meant more than a kiss ever could.

A little part in the back of Geralt’s brain wondered if he could have a kiss and Jaskier wearing the doublet, but that was silly.

Geralt went out to see Roach briefly when the performance was over. The applause was too much for his ears and his head, but ran back in when he heard the shouts. 

Three men had Jaskier against a wall, looking furious, and Jaskier looked angrier than they were. 

“Let him go,” Geralt growled, hand going for his sword...which was upstairs in their room. 

Fuck.

The men turned to him, all holding knives that were only knives because no one let swords get that jagged. 

“Your whore here,” one of them said with a shrug towards Jaskier. “Was telling us all how we shouldn’t talk shit about you witchers.”

“Yeah,” sneared another man with rotten teeth and even more rotten breath. “Got all righteous.” He stepped forward, raising his knife. “Said we ought to be thankful.

Geralt felt his muscles tense, gearing for a fight he really, really didn’t want to have.

“I think we oughta show you our ‘gratitude’,” said the third man.

“Or I can show you the door to the next world,” a voice purred. It was Jaskier.

“What is poking into your kidney, or thereabouts,” the bard continued. “Is a fish knife, I believe. I picked it up off the table. It’s pretty sharp, so I wouldn’t recommend moving very quickly. I would recommend, if you like to keep living, dropping your weapons, all three of you, and just walking away.”

The man’s compatriots looked at Jaskier in confusion. Jaskier pressed the knife in just a hair’s breadth further. 

“Do it,” growled the man currently held hostage. Three knives clattered on the floor. 

“Very good,” Jaskier purred in a voice that was both menacing and sent electric signals all the way down Geralt’s spine. “I can see you’re the brains of the outfit. Now apologize to my friend.”

“Wha..?”

Jaskier twitched his knife hand. “Apologize. To. My. Friend.”

“I’mverysorrymisterwitcher,” the man said, all in one breath. 

“Good, and?”

“And...and thank you for getting rid of the monsters?” said the man, hesitantly. Jaskier let down the knife. 

“Scram,” he said. The three toughs fled.

“A fish knife?” Geralt asked, trying not to focus on how spine tinglingly sexy that had been.

Jaskier shrugged. “I don’t keep weapons on me usually. Shall we go to bed?”

Bed turned out to be an overstatement. It was pretty much a cot, and a very slim one at that, but neither of them were going to sleep on the rough floorboards so they squished in together. 

Jaskier snuggled up to Geralt with contented little humming noises and laid his head on his chest. In the corner, in the moonlight from the window, Geralt could see the basilisk leather doublet where it lay on Jaskier’s pack. It would be a shame, he thought, wrapping his arms around Jaskier to keep him from tipping entirely out of the narrow bed. To part from his husband in Oxenfurt. 

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Tag List!

@llamasdumpsterfire @stinastar@aziz-the-fangirl @mordoriscalling @bastardofmothman @negativenuggetz @morte-mistrata @hayleynzlive @filledepluie @bygodstillam @sociowithatardisachevyandawand @faery-god @honeysuckletook @theflurtifly @saibowtie @werevampiwolf @frywen-babbles @the-kewlest @innocentbi-stander @1stbonesfan @aqueenrisesintheeast @toothhurtyam @marauders-fan-account @ineffable-lasagna @limevodka @rocknrollphanda @seralyra @permanently-exhausted-witcher @aj-itated @watchthewolvesfall @00qtee @the-blondey @birds-of-forgiveness @west-moor @abstractartwithoutpaint @darkonesdagger7437 @onwardsandfourwords @underwaterattribute @whenrainbowsend @goldbvtton @little-piece-of-tamlin @in-love-with-writing002 @flustratedcas @fontegagrilledcheese @so--many-fandoms @kirk-spock-in-the-impala @oniongrass @flowercrown-bard @maya-the-yellow-bee @thecomfortofoldstorries @wellthisstinks  @flowercrown-bard @obsessedchildsworld @debellatis @zotinha456 @tumbleweedtech @goblin-loves-shiny-things @birdsflyhome @holymotherwolf @the-shenny-of-azkaban  @enkelikauneus @silvermirror1997 @just-a-himbo-and-his-feral-bard@iamaqt314 @itsthelittlethingsnlife @oneshots-galore @inikokoru @gryffinqueen

People who I tried to tag but can’t seem to: @ailorian @thenameislion-dandelion  @darkangel91939 @saphiramalbec

Supposed to be tagged and weren’t? Is your tag listed but not actually linked? I’m having some trouble, so let me know!

[klea221]

"Mending Heart Strings"

Dorian Storm X GN Reader

The previously muffled conversation of the tavern was quickly replaced with an eruption of laughter- only it was filled with judgement and mockery. Looking over to the source of the commotion, I see a bard who has conveniently broken a lute string before he could even play. Feeling sorry for the poor guy, I find a spot closer to him as he begins to play his flute. Though he’s visibly nervous, he plays well enough! I toss him a silver and enjoy the cheerful tune, tapping my foot along. As the song picks up, a gentle-sourceless-breeze seems to flow through his long hair…it even seemed as though he was floating in a way?? He was intriguing to say the least…

As his performance comes to an end, I watch as he slowly gathers his things, stumbling along the tavern. As he passes by my table, a sheet of music falls out of his bag and onto the floor. Immediately, I lean over to pick it up off the moist tavern floor. “Hey! Wait” I call after him. “You dropped this!”. Turning in his tracks he sighs, “As if this couldn’t get any worse…”, his shoulders drooping defeatedly as he eyes the smudged ink. “Oh! Hold on!” I tell him before casting ‘mending’ on the paper. “I can’t fix the ink but at least it’s dry!” I say with a sheepish smile. “Well, that’s very kind of you! My name is Dorian, Dorian Storm…and you are??” he says as a small smile finally creeps across his face, a faint blush appearing against his blue skin. “I’m y/n” I smile. “And you look like you could use a drink” I say, gesturing to his full hands. “Ugh… am I that obvious?” he says with another sigh, slumping into the chair next to me. “It’s a tough crowd…usually bards don’t even bother with this place” I tell him. “No kidding…” he frowns, looking around the room shyly. Noticing his discomfort, I flag down the barkeep and get us a round of drinks to cheer him up. As the drinks are served, Dorian places a silver onto the table “It was a pity tip anyways” he says with a soft grimace. I smile softly before taking a sip. “So what brings you to Jrusar?” I ask, resting my chin on my hands, eager to learn more about the charming bard.

~ As we get further into our drinks, Dorian tells me all about his recent adventures with his other companions “Orym” and “Fearne”. Having lived in Jrusar all my life, I felt rather envious about his ability to travel the world so freely. “That sounds amazing! I’ve never been able to leave this place” I sigh. “Well that’s no good! Tell you what-if you help show us around, I’ll happily bring you along with us when we leave!” he says with a grin, his free hand intertwining with my own. “You know what… I’d like that a lot!” I smile. ~

As the night goes on, the tavern begins to slowly empty, leaving about a dozen patrons other than Dorian and I. Looking across the table at Dorian’s lute, I have an idea! “Hey…can I try something?” I ask, gesturing to the broken instrument. “S-sure, just be careful, ok?” he says with a nervous smile. Focusing my energy, I use ‘mending’ again and successfully(!) repair the broken string! Dorian watches in amazement as the string snaps back together and into place. “It actually worked!!” I cheer, clapping my hands excitedly. “That’s incredible!” he smiles brightly, admiring the almost ‘brand-new’ lute. “How about a do-over?” I suggest, handing the lute back to him. “Oh, why not” he grins, standing up to lean against the table. As he begins to play, he is relaxed and confident unlike earlier…Though there is less of a crowd, his music draws an audience as the song begins to fill the tavern. He plays noticeably better than before and I’m glad to be able to hear him play so beautifully! As the song slows and comes to an end, a few patrons toss silver onto our table. Dorian looks at me once more, causing us both to smile at the pleasant twist of fate. As the small crowd disperses, I count 7 silver pieces and three copper just from the quick performance! “Well would you look at that! We make a great team!” says Dorian, throwing an arm over my shoulder. I feel my face heat up at the closeness. “It would appear so” I smile sheepishly, looking into his bright crystal blue eyes. I watch as they flutter closed, his face inching closer to mine...

In a moment of bravery, I close the distance. Our lips finally meet in a gentle, feather-like kiss that feels almost electric… Unable to break away just yet, my fingers find themselves raking through his long hair, brushing past his pointed ears. He gasps breathily as he pulls away, leaving just our foreheads touching. He cups my cheek, fingertips gliding across my skin with tenderness.

“Please stay” he pleads.

[archived-kin]

you are hopelessly in love with one (1) librarian

note from kin: i’m (kinda) back baby!!!!!

i thought i’d start with something for myself to get back into the ~groove~ so i chose lisa since i love her so much

in this one you’re venti’s accompanist bard buddy and play the flute! whether or not you’re a vision-holder isn’t mentioned but i like to imagine that venti gives you an anemo vision after the two of you bond as fellow musicians (though of course you don’t know it’s him who gave you it, you basically just woke up one night after a performance and found it in your pocket)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, lisa, kaeya, venti, razor

pairing(s): lisa/reader (+ some wholesome best friend venti content)

warning(s): none!

genre: fluff

“She’s so pretty,” You groan into the table. “I’m going to die.”

“You probably shouldn’t,” Kaeya replies through a mouthful of hash brown. “Your bard friends would be rather sad without their favourite Buoyant Balladeer.”

“What difference is it going to make?” You raise your head and stare at him with soulless eyes. “My life has no meaning anyway.”

“Oh, now you’re just being dramatic.” Kaeya slaps your shoulder so hard that you swear you feel your bones dislocate. “Cheer up.”

You groan, but sit up and take the hash brown he offers you anyway. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” He responds, already shoving another one into his mouth and beginning to chew.

You let out a heavy sigh and begin to nibble miserably on your own hash brown. “Sorry about all this. I probably sound like an idiot.”

“Don’t worry about it,” He reaches over and gives your hair a playful ruffle. “And you don’t sound like an idiot. Lisa’s a very beautiful lady, after all.”

You raise your head in a snap, glaring at your friend through narrow eyes. “Hey, watch it.”

“I’m uninterested, not blind. Calm down.” He flicks you in the head with a chuckle. Raising his eyes to the sky, he gives a content sigh, as if the sun that he appears to be staring directly into isn’t burning his eye. “You know, a sky like this really calls for a nice glass of dandelion wine…”

“You have beyond enough problems to deal with right now without becoming a day drinker as well,” You shoot back. “Don’t you still have a report to file about those Treasure Hoarders over in Windrise?”

“Oh, that’s taken care of,” He says dismissively, taking a sip from his cup of water. “All dealt with.”

“Careful, Mr Kaeya,” comes a familiar honey-sweet voice from somewhere behind you, and you immediately tense. “Lying is a sin.”

“Miss Lisa!” laughs your blue-haired companion as the librarian pulls up a seat at your table, leaning forward and resting her chin on a single gloved hand. It’s an innocent motion by all means, but it still makes your heart skip a beat. “So kind of you to join us. What brings you here?”

“I simply saw two familiar faces while out on a stroll,” She smiles, stealing Kaeya’s mug and taking a sip of his Wolfhook juice. “How have we all been doing?”

“I-I’m doing great,” You quickly reply as her eyes land on you, unable to form a more intelligent response under her clear green-eyed gaze.

Much better now that you’re here, you add silently as she turns her attention to Kaeya, sliding his mug back over to him with such ease that you get the impression she does this a lot.

Kaeya himself either hasn’t noticed Lisa stealing his drink or doesn’t care, since he promptly curls his fingers back around the tankard and takes a long drink without any indication that he’s noticed anything out of the norm.

“Craving some wine, but I suppose I’m fine,” He sighs, tilting his head slightly to the side and swirling the contents of his mug around. “[Name] here says I shouldn’t be drinking during daylight.”

“And [Name] is very right,” Lisa shakes her head, the little rose accessory on the end of her hat tinkling with the motion. You can’t help but silently compare the sound to the ringing of heaven’s bells. Curse your stupidly romantic heart. “You drink more than enough in the evenings.”

“Then what of you?” Kaeya counters, smirking playfully. “I know for a fact that you can drink most of Angel’s Share’s patrons under the table within a single night.”

“Perhaps so, but I spend far less nights in front of the bar than you do.”

You stare determinedly down into the bottom of your water tankard as Lisa and Kaeya continue their little back-and-forth, feeling an odd sensation tugging at the pit of your stomach. What is this? Anger? Jealousy?

Tapping your fingers agitatedly on the tabletop, you kick yourself firmly in the shin. You’re being ridiculous. Kaeya knows just how head-over-heels you are for the Witch of Purple Rose, and even if he is a sneaky little snake who swaps around the chess pieces when he thinks you’re not looking, you know that he’d never do something like… that to you. Besides, you know full well that, even if they’re close friends, they don’t harbour any romantic feelings for each other.

As the songs say, though, jealousy is a green-eyed demon that will listen to irrationality over reason any day, and so you can’t help but glare subtle holes into the side of Kaeya’s head as he continues to converse with the object of your affections as if you’re not even there.

“... I jest, I jest,” He laughs, waving his hand about as Lisa giggles into her glove. “Anyway, as I was saying to our friend here earlier - the weather’s been beautiful recently, hasn’t it?”

You raise your eyebrows at him, a signal that Kaeya clearly sees and pointedly ignores. The both of you know that the weather was far from what you had been conversing about earlier, but you’re glad that Kaeya isn’t giving you away, at the very least.

“Quite,” Lisa agrees, tossing a lock of hair out of her face in a way that knocks all the breath out of your lungs. “Pleasant weather for a stroll around Starsnatch Cliff, wouldn’t you say, [Name]?”

You jolt in your seat and heat up so abruptly that you wouldn’t be surprised if you started smoking. Kaeya sniggers not-so-subtly into his hand as you hurriedly stutter, “U-uh, yeah, totally!”

“Is that an invitation?” Kaeya raises an eyebrow with a coy smirk, and you’ve never wanted to punch him more than you do at this moment. “I’m sure [Name] would be glad to accompany you.”

“Ah, I couldn't impose myself like that,” Lisa shakes her head, and you want to cry because if only you weren’t such a coward you could tell her that she’d never be imposing on you. “Razor could do with some new scenery for his training. I might as well show him the sights.”

“How is training with your protégé going, then?” Kaeya asks. “He seems to have become quite the loyal little wolf since you first took him under your wing.”

“Oh, he’s an absolute darling,” Lisa says breezily. “He still isn’t very verbal, unfortunately, but he’s learning to communicate like a star. And he’s becoming a dab hand at using his Vision more effectively, too.”

“Sounds like you’re a wonderful teacher, then,” Kaeya compliments, then gives you a side-eyed look. “Wouldn’t you agree, [Name]?”

You nod vigorously. “Absolutely!”

“You flatter me,” Lisa sighs, “But a good teacher is nothing without a bright and willing student.”

Kaeya gives you a subtle dig in the side, and you hurriedly go to reply. “H-hey, give yourself some credit. Razor never would have been able to open up so much without you.”

“You’re too kind, darling.” She gives you a brilliant smile, and you very nearly pass out on the spot, but Kaeya helpfully keeps you conscious by stomping hard on your left foot like the little shit he is. You’ll have to get him back for that later - when your heart rate isn’t so rapid that it feels like you might just ascend to Celestia any minute now.

Lisa doesn’t stay for long after that, conversing with Kaeya for another five minutes or so while you stew in your own flustered chagrin and silently continue to freak out over just how… perfect she is. It’s honestly ridiculous. How is she even human? How are you worthy of even being in her presence?

“Well,” Kaeya says as Lisa disappears back down the street, presumably to return to her place in the office. “That went well.”

You glare at him. “You think?”

“You spoke to her, didn’t you?” He counters, grinning cheekily. “That’s a start.”

You open your mouth to give him a grumpy response, then give up and slump forward on the table again. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” He hums, draining the last of his Wolfhook juice and setting the mug down with a sharp thunk. “Anyway, shouldn’t you be preparing for your performance tonight? You should probably go find your partner.”

“Our friend Kaeya is very right,” calls an all-too-familiar figure from atop a nearby roof. “You’re late.”

If it had been any other occasion, you might have jumped, but right now you’re too emotionally exhausted to do anything but let out a long, tired sigh. Ignoring Kaeya’s evil little cackle, you look up and turn to see Venti grinning down at you. “Bard.”

“Accompanist,” He imitates your monotone address, hopping down from the roof and landing softly on the pavement without so much as a click of his shoes. Flicking out his cape, he sets his hands on his hips and offers you his usual cheeky grin. “What’s got you so gloomy?”

“Nothing,” You reply, standing up and dusting off the front of your clothes. “Let’s go.”

Venti doesn’t move. He raises a single, suspiciously perfectly-shaped eyebrow, cocking his head to the side, then looks to Kaeya, who not-so-subtly mouths something at him. You pretend not to notice his obvious hand gestures in the corner of your eye.

“Ah,” Venti says suddenly, his expression taking on a mock-wise air. “Love troubles once again, I presume. Is our dear [Name] still ailed by a paralysing infatuation with one Miss Lisa?”

Kaeya claps enthusiastically, as if he isn’t the one who basically just told Venti the whole story through poorly-done charades. “Correct! I keep telling them to make a move, you know, but they’re too much of a coward.”

You aim a kick at his shin under the table that he dodges easily. “I’m not a coward! I’m just… gauging the territory.”

“You’ve been ‘gauging the territory’ for months now,” Venti whines, holding his fists in front of his chest and giving you the widest-eye look he can muster. “Come on! The eagle that never dives will never catch its prey, after all!”

“Lisa isn’t prey,” You counter. “And I’m not an eagle.”

“Hopeless is what you are,” comments Kaeya, leaning back in his chair and toying absently with a lock of his hair. “Hmmm, why don’t you write her a song? That’s your strong suit, isn’t it?”

“A song?!” You practically combust right there and then - if you’d been a Pyro Vision holder, you have no doubt that you’d have erupted into a column of flame on the spot. “No way!”

“I think that’s a splendid idea!” Venti exclaims, hopping up and down excitedly on the spot, hat threatening to fly off his head all the while. “You write the lyrics and melody, we compose the instrumental part together, and I’ll sing it for you! We’ll be an absolutely unresistable duo!”

“Easy there,” Kaeya teases, holding up a hand. “Our friend here is the one trying to win Lisa’s affections, after all.”

“Then I’ll be sure to try to direct as much of the spotlight to them as possible,” Venti replies, completely unaffected by Kaeya’s attempt to fluster him. You wish you had his coolheadedness sometimes. “C’mon, [Name], what do you say?”

“I said no!” You holler as he jumps energetically up at you like an over-excited puppy. “No way! There’s no way I’m going to just— broadcast my feelings like that!”

“You won’t be,” Kaeya explains, infuriatingly calm in the face of your explosive embarrassment. “Write the song so that only Lisa would be able to understand the true feelings behind it. It shouldn’t be difficult - you’re the master lyricist, after all.”

“Plus you have me to help as well,” Venti chimes in, holding up a single, proud finger. “The Windborne Bard himself - with me by your side, you can’t possibly fail!”

“Look—” You sink back into your seat and hunch forward, burying your face into your hands. A moment later, you raise your head again to see Venti giving you a concerned look. “I appreciate it, I really do, but… I can’t.”

“Of course you can,” Kaeya says unhelpfully, giving you a hearty slap on the back that is also unhelpful in every way. “You’ve performed all over Teyvat - this would be a small feat in comparison.”

“You aren’t helping, Master Kaeya,” Venti says, not-so-subtly elbowing Kaeya in the side. “We need to be cautious here. Like coaxing a young hatchling to fly the nest… we must take baby steps.”

“No baby steps!” You protest, leaning away as he takes a threatening step closer. “No steps at all!”

“Surely writing a subtle confessional song would be much easier than playing an intricate ballad in front of some of the most influential figures of Liyue?” Kaeya doesn’t show any signs of relenting. “Archons above, [Name], it seems that you’ve channelled all of your courage to entirely the wrong places.”

You drop your head into your hands again and glare at him through the cracks between your fingers. “Kaeya, I’d die for you any day, but for the love of the Archons, please shut up.”

He shrugs and obligingly places his finger over his lips, but you can clearly see him hiding a laugh behind it.

Venti hums, leaning over and giving your shoulder a comforting rub as you sigh miserably into your hands. “Hey, relax. I’m not going to drag you out on stage and force you to confess in song, much as I’m tempted to. If you don’t want to do it, we don’t have to.”

You ignore that middle part and choose to focus on Venti’s earnest attempt at consolation. “...thanks.”

“No need to thank me!” He winks playfully and gives your knees a firm pat. “Now come on! Confession or not, we still have a performance to practise for!”

You sigh and smile. “...sure.”

Leaving Kaeya to pay the lunch bill in retaliation for his teasing, you and Venti head off to your usual practice spot in the gardens outside the Cathedral. There’s some debate over who gets to wear the ‘Star of the Show’ Windwheel Aster pin today, but Venti relents quickly and gives you an easy win. You’re pretty sure it’s out of pity for your romantic plight, but you don’t care. The pin looks a lot nicer fastened on the lapel of your coat, anyway - the colour doesn’t match Venti’s cloak at all.

“So what’s the quota for tonight?” Venti asks, giving his lyre an absent-minded strum. “Celestial Destiny on repeat once more, I presume.”

“Shut up,” You groan, flipping open the latches of your instrument case and carefully lifting out your flute. “I’ve just been… lacking inspiration.”

“What you’ve been lacking is emotional fulfilment,” Venti sighs, reaching over and flicking you in the side of the head. “All you do is wander around Mondstadt, practise, and perform. Surely you could compose something flavourful if you had a little more excitement in your life.”

“I have excitement enough just as I am,” You bring your flute to your mouth. “Now shut up and start practising.”

Venti huffs, but begins strumming the opening chords anyway.

The two of you work your way steadily through your usual repertoire for the next hour or so. It goes smoothly as always - you’ve performed these pieces so many times that you could probably play them in your sleep - but you can’t help but feel like something is missing throughout the entire practice. Venti seems to be fully aware of it as well - rather than closing his eyes and swaying along to the music like usual, he just keeps glancing at you when he thinks you aren’t looking, wearing that frown that says ‘I know exactly what’s going on here but I don’t know if I should bring it up’.

Finally, he has enough, abruptly stopping his strumming in the middle of Early Dawn and setting his lyre down on the bench with a huff. “Alright, that’s it!”

You lower your flute and stare at him blankly as he stands and turns to glare at you, hands set firmly on his hips like a scolding parent. “You’re far too dismal! What happened to the Buoyant Balladeer? There’s no breeze in your playing at all!”

“I’m sorry if my heart is too heavy to play as light as the wind,” You retort, setting your flute back in its case. “I’m afraid I’m a little preoccupied.”

Venti looks at you with a furrowed brow as you shut the case with a harsh snap. After a moment, his voice much softer, he asks, “Are you alright?”

You hesitate for a moment. “...yes.”

He raises an eyebrow at you and doesn’t say anything else. After a pause, you groan and concede. “Alright, I’m miserable, so what? Let’s just get on with it.”

“We are most certainly not getting on with it,” He shoots back, turning to face you directly and crossing his arms stubbornly across his chest. “I can’t have my dear [Name] walking around with such a heavy heart. Come on, talk to me. What is it that weighs you down so?”

You stare at him for a long moment. He looks back at you almost unblinkingly, and try as you might to turn away and dismiss him again, there’s something about his wide green eyes that just compels you to tell the truth.

“I’m...afraid.” You say quietly. “It’s such a cliche thing to say, but I’ve really never felt this way before. I don’t… I don’t know how to deal with it.”

Venti smiles reassuringly. “There’s nothing wrong with that. First loves are always scary.”

“I understand that, but…” You bury your face in your hands and groan. “...she’s just so perfect and I’m just so me and it just feels like it’d never work out.”

“Hey, I don’t like that tone!” He scolds lightly, reaching out and flicking you in the cheek. “No talking bad about yourself. Besides, who says it’d never work out? As far as we know, your feelings are mutual.”

“I seriously doubt that,” You sigh, raising your head once again.

Venti raises an eyebrow. “Have you ever asked?”

You’re quiet for another few moments. “...no…”

“Then how do you know what her answer will be?” He asks. “Why assume that it’ll be no?”

You open your mouth to respond, but something suddenly compels you to look over to the town square. Venti goes quiet beside you as you see Lisa, standing beneath the Anemo Archon statue with Razor beside her. She seems to be explaining something to him.

Razor seems to feel your gaze almost as soon as it lands on him and his mentor. His hair bristles, and he abruptly whips around to look at you, but as soon as he sees you, he seems to relax. He lifts a gloved hand to send you a brief wave; you hesitantly return it.

He turns around and tugs on Lisa’s sleeve; she pauses and turns around to follow his pointing finger. You hold your breath as your eyes meet hers.

She raises her hand, and there’s no mistaking it - she’s smiling. An eternity seems to pass within those few seconds of eye contact, and for once your heart isn’t beating in your throat, your breaths aren’t becoming shallow and uneven, you aren’t heating up and boiling over. Instead, you feel a kind of pleasant warmth well up inside you, and you can’t help but beam and wave back.

Lisa looks at you for another moment, smiles once more, then turns around and begins walking away, gently tapping Razor’s shoulder as she goes. He glances back between you and his teacher, then turns around and follows behind her.

A long silence stretches between you and Venti.

You take a deep breath and turn to look at him, and he immediately grins. Somehow, you get the feeling that he knows what you're going to say.

“I need you to help me write a love song.”

[bobataeminsuga]

everyone's talking about music in your asks so i wanna know what your music hcs are for the genshin boys 👉👈

anon im so sorry for taking so long to reply but i really thought about it... and this is the first time ive ever made like a list of hcs so bear with me

i didnt know whether you meant hcs for the type of music they listened to or like them as musicians so i kinda did both

Genshin boy’s music headcannons under the cut!!

characters: kaeya, diluc, venti, albedo, bennett, razor, xingqiu, chongyun, zhongli, childe, xiao, scaramouche, aether, dainsleif

kaeya:

I get big sweater weather by the neighbourhood vibes from him

bi icon i guess

He loves the neighbourhood

Daddy issues by the neighbourhood yessir

He can play the guitar. his voice is okay, he’s not bad, he can sing and its really nice but its not the prettiest out of all the genshin boys

he loves serenading people and it just works bro, he knows exactly how to make people fall for him

diluc:

a lot of ppl say he would listen to like emo music or something but he listens to classical music

i mean he's a nobleman after all

he grew up learning the piano so he fell in love with classical music at a young age

unlike kaeya, he doesnt serenade people, instead you can find him playing piano at midnight, very captivating (i think i said this in a previous post lol)

hates it when kaeya gets control over the music

definitely the "pop music is so annoying and meaningless" bitch

venti:

nicki Minaj

I dont know why but nicki Minaj

Maybe doja cat too ngl

tbh venti just loves every genre of music

but he really loves everything the nameless bard has ever sung to him - whether it was an original song or not

Learnt every instrument just so he could play the nameless bard’s music wherever he went - venti loves him and his music very much

albedo:

Something magical

ghibli soundtracks maybe?

he likes merry-go-round from howls moving castle that's for sure

maybe chill vibey music

Luke chiang, maybe?

I wouldn’t be surprised if he could play the piano too but violin me thinks… or maybe viola just to prove how much better he is at music theory oooh so fancy he can read alto clef even though violas suck

Only sings lullabies to klee, doesnt sing otherwise, but he has a very calming and pretty singing voice, everyone wishes he sang more (khoi dao singing :,) )

bennett:

number one victory royale- no jk he doesn't listen to that shit unironically

bennett likes Wilbur Soot

really likes your new boyfriend

but other than that he really likes music with deep lyrics, he likes meaningful things

he also really likes singing, he's not that great at it but he loves it and he wants to get better at it

would probably be a band kid, probably plays the trumpet or something

razor:

razor doesn't really understand music

he doesn't have a favourite genre or artist or song

but he really likes bennett's singing

even if bennett thinks he's bad, razor likes listening to him sing, he thinks bennett is the best singer in all of teyvet

he doesn't know this wilbur soot guy, he thinks those are bennett’s songs and that bennett wrote im in love with an egirl about fischl and doesn’t know how to feel about that

Razor cant play any instruments but if he did maybe drums??? Hm… 

xingqiu:

everyone thinks he likes classical music - which he does, its just not his favourite

he listens to cavetown me thinks

like i think he listens to cavetown if you get what im saying

Sings lemon boy to chongyun even if he isnt a good singer

He plays the flute, not the best, he’s still learning

his older brother plays the violin and they often argue about which is the better/worse instrument

chongyun:

rnb? I get an rnb vibe from him

maybe krnb? like junny and crush

Chongyun is very swaggy imo so i feel like he’d like swaggy chill music therefore krnb

Not the biggest fan of cavetown but if xingqiu is listening to this is home then chongyun knows he has to be there to comfort him and sits through the song anyways 

Chongyun doesnt play any instruments, he sings all the time without realizing it though

he has a very nice voice and xingqiu always tells him this but he doesnt believe this (kinsens singing voice ;-;)

zhongli:

yet another classical music enjoyer

doesnt really mind other genres but he doesnt really like rap

also really likes old rock

journey, the Beatles, queen, he loves it all

but his favourite song is the song guizhong sings to the glaze lilies, nothing can replace that

Cant sing for shit, which is why he cant pick glaze lilies himself

Cant play any instruments either, playing music was always guizhong’s thing, not really his so he never bothered learning

childe:

pop music, whatever’s on the radio im sorry white boy

but also… hayloft? I feel like he would listen to hayloft but the question is would he listen to hayloft?

Surprisingly listens to rich brian bc he heard scaramouche listening once and loved it

Can sing, like he gets the notes right and stuff, nobody wants to hear it though (im so sorry griffin burns)

But sometimes he sings lullabies to tonia, anton, and teucer and :,)

Knows a little bit of piano - he had to teach tonia a bit back home bc they couldnt afford a piano teacher for her until he became a harbinger

xiao:

my chemical romance- nah I'm just joking he likes calming music, mcr and music like that would actually get on his nerves

he likes whatever venti plays

which makes him another big fan of the nameless bard - he doesnt know the songs aren’t venti’s though

JOJI

I think he likes joji, slow dancing in the dark and like you do are his favourites

Agoraphobic by corpse husband

Wishes he knew more about music but whenever venti offers to teach him he gets all “an adeptus doesn’t need to know such things”

He only sings to venti and the traveler whenever he thinks they’re asleep or sings them to sleep but he has sUCH A NICE VOICE (orz kinsen) - traveler and venti team up to get him to sing more

scaramouche:

CHOKE ME LIKE YOU HATE ME BUT YOU LOVE ME

Corpse husband.

literally just loud music with heavy bass I can see scaramouche listening to that

blasts that shit at the zapolyarny palace so that everyone knows he's there

signora hates it - childe, not so much but finds it a bit annoying sometimes

This man cant sing, he refuses to and he refuses to play an instrument

NO WAIT HE LIKES TAKAYAN

Cheating is a crime by takayan is his anthem

aether:

He likes whatever reminds him most of home, whatever makes him nostalgic

butterfly by bts

Youth by troye sivan

how to save a life by the fray

Mr loverman by ricky montgomery?

yeah sad music, he doesn't know where his sister is, he wants to go home, of course he'd be sad

Aether likes troye sivan, he gives me that vibe

Ukulele boy aether :o

He used to play the ukulele and sing with lumine (luyin kana’s voice :”) )

abyss prince aether tho hmmm… might be a different story, i feel like he wouldnt be a ukulele boy but he would still listen to sad music me thinks

dainsleif:

He doesn’t listen to music

Knows about music, but doesn’t listen to it

They say long ago he used to sing a lot, rumour has it he was one of the best singers in Khaenri'ah, he doesnt sing anymore

Hears aether singing and gets sad about lumine (or vice versa)

[eirikaanemo]

A Pitch Perfect Pair

Fair Warning: This is probably not going to be an often occurrence, but I may sometimes write something myself instead of just reblogging other people’s majestic work.

I do this daily now.

No Warnings, just potentially poorly written fluffy

Feedback and constructive criticism are very, very welcome!

Venti x GN!Reader

1.2k Words

Continue below the cut

After becoming friends with Venti, he has played many songs for you. From quick to slow, warm to cold, lively to hollow, every song was different, unique, and wonderful. In fact, he’d played so many songs for you that you started feeling guilty. He’s done so much and it feels like all you’ve been doing is sitting around doing nothing. And so you decided that you would play him a song for once!

It took some searching through the attic storage but you did eventually find your old flute in its case. You had made many good memories with the instrument. Your mother had wanted all her children to learn how to play music, so everyone learned to play something. There would be family nights where all you did was play music together. But those warm and happy days ended when your mother passed away suddenly in an accident. There was a strange sort of nostalgia and a wave of grief that came with handling your beloved flute again.

Hoping it would help you avoid the impending emotional breakdown, you took the whole case and set out for Windrise. You had made many good memories there that might help balance out the emotions that suddenly plagued your mind. Once you reached your destination you sat down, unpacked your instrument, and started cleaning and tuning it. The time it spent in storage had not been kind to it and it took longer than you’d expected to get it ready. But finally you were able to warm up.

From there you fell back on your memories to decide what you’d play. You closed your eyes and got lost in the melodies of days gone by, your emotions imbued in every note that played so high and clear. Sure, your technique was nowhere near where it used to be. But your fingerings and tunes were true to memory. Eventually you started to play your favorite song, one your Mom had called “Song of the Heart”. 

The song started slow and soft, gently speeding up. It then became a cheery tune that bubbled along from one note to the next. From there it calmed to a deeper tone, more solemn and contemplative. And it then returned to the soft and slow beginning before ending on a joyful and satisfying note. You took a moment to rest and appreciate the silence of the area around you.

Then the clapping started. 

Startled, you fumbled and almost dropped your flute. After making sure that you weren’t actually going to drop your instrument you turned to see who it was. There stood Venti, with just the biggest smile on his face. He was clapping so fast that part of you started to become a little concerned for his hands, but the rest of you was too busy being horribly embarrassed to care.

“That was amazing,” he exclaimed, “I had no idea you could play the flute so well!” 

If your face wasn’t already red, it was now. “Where did you come from?” You asked. He pointed at Vanessa’s tree, around 100 yards away. “I was sitting in the tree. It’s one of my favorite places, remember?” “Oh yeah, I forgot,” you explained. “But even then, how did you hear me play from clear over there! I wasn’t all that loud.” He gave a secretive little smile, “I have my ways.” You raised an eyebrow, but let it go.

“Anyway, it wasn’t all that good, it’s been a while since I’ve played and I’m pretty out of practice. I was hoping to surprise you later but I guess that didn’t work out very well.” Your foot kicked at the dirt a little bit as you avoided eye contact. Not only had someone overheard you, but it was Venti, your friend and secret crush, who also happened to be a bard. 

Venti just laughed. “If that was you playing out of practice then I can’t wait to hear what it’s like when you’ve polished your skills some! It’s been a while since I’ve heard someone play the flute so well! Oh! Maybe we could practice together and play some duets! Everyone would love that!”

Now that you thought about it, that would be kind of fun. And spending time practicing playing instruments with your crush? Score! “I’d love that,” you admitted, an elated feeling spreading from your stomach butterflies to your thumping heart. “My initial intention was simply to play some music for you because you’ve always played so much music for me. I’ve felt kind of bad, like I’ve been taking advantage of you or something. I figured this would be a way I could pay you back for that in some measure, but playing duets with you sounds like fun too!” 

Venti looked at you, his head tilted a little and jaw slackened in surprise. “You never owed me anything for those songs. I played them for you because I wanted to. As a bard, I don’t make a lot of money. So this has been my way of giving back to you for all of the times you let me stay over and bring me food. You’ve done more for me than you probably think.” 

He walked over and sat next to you, just a few inches away. You rested your flute on your lap and turned towards him. At that moment he was staring up into the sky with a shy smile on his face, so unlike his usual grins. The movement of his braids back and forth reminded you that it was windy, which reminded you that it was cold. It was getting late and you’d neglected to grab a jacket, thinking that you’d be back soon.

He must have noticed you were getting cold, because he shrugged off his cape and wrapped it around you. “You should’ve brought a jacket, you know it gets cold here,” he scolded gently. You looked up at him, eyes wide with surprise at his sudden act. The flush that had finally fled your cheeks started returning with a vengeance. And for the first time you noticed that his cheeks were rather flushed themselves.

Both of you fell silent, simply looking at each other. His eyes were thoughtful and a soft smile remained on his face. The silence was broken as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders and scooted a little closer. “You know,” he murmured, “there’s another reason for why I’ve been playing music for you.”

“Oh? And what reason might that be?” You asked. “Well,” he responded, “we’ve been friends for a while but recently I’ve started feeling something more for you, about you. There’s a lot I haven’t told you, that I’m not ready to tell you, but if you’re willing I’d like to give us a try.”

Your heart jumped to your throat and you swallowed, trying to gather courage. “Yeah,” you whispered, “I think I’d like that.” You tilted your forehead forwards to touch his, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I think I’d really, really like that.”

He smiled and gave you a quick kiss, much too quick for your liking. Your disappointment must have been obvious because he chuckled. “I think we’ll have plenty of time for more once we start practicing our duets, yes?” “Yes,” you agreed, “let’s be sure to practice lots. Maybe they’ll even call us a ‘pitch perfect pair’.” You laugh a bit at the thought.

“If that’s what you’d like,” he said gently, “then pitch perfect we shall be.”

[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.)

[thatgirlonstage]

@fluffyblue-multifandommess so I tried to save your ask in draft at one point while I was working on answering it (it uh.... got... long on me) and fortunately I didn’t actually lose it but it did fuck the formatting to hell and I couldn’t fix it, so I just copy-pasted into a new post entirely; sorry about that.

@fluffyblue-artnwriting asked: I'm thinking about possibilities for a wangxian Witcher!AU and I can't decide which one of them is the Witcher because on one hand WWX has a personality way closer to Jaskier but ALSO the whole Public View Of Witchers Is Shit thing parallels demonic cultivation nicely.... And THEN I thought, but what if LWJ is the witcher and WWX is... like Yennefer. Then who would take on the bard's role... IDK. Maybe NHS? I like the idea of LWJ&NHS friendship A Lot but their dynamic would be very different from Geralt and Jaskier’s obviously. However that all works out, one thing is obvious; A-Yuan is Ciri.

*rubs hands together* Okay hear me out: WWX as the Witcher and LWJ as the Bard, but paralleling a sort of Jaskier/Geralt roleswap AU. The one where Jaskier is a witcher and Geralt is a bard, albeit a much more subdued type of bard, the kind who sits in the corner of an inn and strums his songs and gains a reputation as this guy with a deep, husky (well, Geralt is husky, LWJ in this instance is more… warm and round) kind of voice who is maybe not the best for a jig but whenever he sings he has a way of just making everyone stop and listen. He tells stories with his songs, and he makes people want to hear them. And he doesn’t really like to stick around after he plays, he doesn’t want to be dragged into every piece of gossip and every scandal of every small town he visits, he prefers to meet people privately and gather his stories thoughtfully and carefully before he sets them to music. But one day after his set, just as he’s packing up, this has-no-fear witcher sprawls himself across the table nearest the bard and calls for a drink and a meal for the man who sings so beautifully, golden eyes glowing (like the sun, Lan Wangji thinks, like he wants to light the world around him, not hellfire and brimstone like he’s heard). So he takes the meal but turns down the drink and requests instead to follow him for a day and see if there’s a story waiting in the witcher’s company.

And there is, there’s dozens of stories, but more importantly there is Wei Ying with his golden eyes and bright smile and fierce whirling swords, and the way he laughs and waves it off when the innkeepers throw food in his face or people lie about what they agreed to pay him or even when he is literally stoned out of town. So Lan Wangji vows he will write songs about the witcher, about the children he saves and the long nights in the mud and the wilderness, about stitching his own wounds back together because not even a doctor will touch him. He will write songs so beautiful it will make grown men weep, he will write songs so popular that no one will be able to get them out of their heads, he will write songs for noble and common alike, he will make people stop looking at Wei Ying with fear and revulsion if he has to play until his fingers bleed.

(“Lan Zhan, why do you write so many songs about me?” Wei Ying laughs as he asks it, the question only half serious.

“I write songs that I want people to hear,” he answers, and Wei Ying’s mask slips slightly to the complicated face beneath the smile.)

(He writes one song that is not about him, but for him. One song that no one else will ever hear.)

(“Wangji, be careful with your songs,” his brother tells him, but it doesn’t stop him.)

(Oops it got long, more under the cut)

I am vaguely aware from fanfic that there was at some point, some kind of attack? On the witchers? A bunch of them were wiped out? This would be a lot easier if I knew more lore and history but I want to read the books now* so I’m not gonna spoil myself by looking at the wiki (I also imagine with the number of different canons that looking at the wiki is likely to confuse me more than anything). But anyway: the destruction of Lotus Pier.

Lan Wangji eventually meets Wei Ying’s family, Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli, two other witchers, three of very very few witchers left. Jiang Cheng fights monsters with a whip that crackles with purple lightning. Jiang Yanli uses potions that make her monstrously strong, and drips poison on her blade. Lan Wangji asks Wei Ying why his swords seem perfectly ordinary, if largely too heavy for the average man to swing about with ease, or why he doesn’t use the same potions and poisons Jiang Yanli does, the ones she warned Lan Wangji not to touch lest they burn his skin. He asks why the scars in his skin seem so much deeper, like they took far longer to heal. Wei Ying laughs it off and hastily changes the subject.

(Netflix told us fuck all about witcher lore so I am kinda flying by the seat of my pants here and also this is a more subtle version of losing his core. But the idea here is that WWX gave up some degree of witcher magic that would have allowed him to use magic weapons/the potions. He’s still unnaturally strong, he can see in the dark, he can smell out monsters, but he’s not quite what a full witcher should be.)

One time, when they meet in a roadside inn, Wei Ying seems fit to burst with excitement at seeing him. He pulls him up to his room before Lan Wangji can protest and takes a glossy black flute from his saddlebags. “Teach me to play it, Lan Zhan?” Golden eyes shine like the first glimmers of dawn. “I’ve always wanted to learn music but the witchers never allowed it, and now I’m never in one place long enough to learn.” He has a way of talking around things, Lan Wangji has learned, when it’s something that he fears will evoke pity. Lan Wangji knows that no community suffers a witcher to stay a day longer than necessary, and that even if he managed to earn his keep in a borderland city or somewhere like that, somewhere he could return every month or so, no one would take a witcher as a music student. “But we travel together all the time!” Wei Ying is saying. “So you can teach me!”

Lan Wangji takes the flute, examining it. “I do not play the flute,” he says. Wei Ying’s face falls.

“Oh,” he says. “Right. I thought about getting a guqin like yours, but it’s too bulky to carry with everything else, and I’d be too worried about breaking it when I get in fights…” He reaches for the flute, but Lan Wangji does not return it.

“My brother plays. I took some lessons with him when we were children. I remember the basics. I will teach you.” And Wei Ying lights up again, the sun coming out from behind a cloud.

He’s fumbling at first, his ear unused to the difference between flat and sharp, his fingers unaccustomed to the delicate pressure needed. But he’s a fast learner, and his hands have always been clever. Soon, the days that they travel, when they don’t end in monster hunts, they end in music, in quiet evenings around a campfire, improvised duets weaving through the smoke.

One time, when they meet out on the road, both chasing the same rumor of a cockatrice (well, Wei Ying chasing the rumor, Lan Wangji chasing Wei Ying), Lan Wangji takes out a newly purchased jian and says “Will you teach me?” He doesn’t expect the horror and sadness that spasms over Wei Ying’s face.

“Lan Zhan,” he says, more somber than Lan Wangji has ever seen him, “you don’t have to kill monsters to travel with me. You don’t have to kill anything.”

“Mn. I have no wish to kill. I only want to be able to defend myself, so that you do not have to risk yourself if I am in danger.” Wei Ying still looks hesitant, but he brightens considerably, and agrees to teach Lan Wangji the basics of swordplay. He is not starting from scratch — he learned a few things growing up the child of nobility — but it has been many years since he has been near anything more serious than a bar brawl or a mugging. He is also a fast learner, and so long as Wei Ying does not use his witcher strength, after enough practice Lan Wangji holds his own and even puts Wei Ying in the dirt from time to time.

As for Yen, I actually really like NHS as Yen? He grows up in a family where he was supposed to swing a sword he never wanted to pick up, and he hated it so much that one day he simply teleported away. By the time Nie Huaisang makes it back home, his brother has a plan. He has recently thrown out the Unclean Realm’s Brotherhood advisor, Meng Yao, for treason. If Nie Huaisang has the spark, then Nie Mingjue will send his defenseless little brother to become a powerful mage, and then he can be the Unclean Realm’s advisor. So much easier when things stay in the family. So Nie Mingjue writes to one of the rectors, Lan Qiren, and secures Nie Huaisang’s place in the school. Nie Huaisang goes, and he is a shuddering, tearful mess, and he seems to survive by the skin of his teeth, and not even his classmates notice how skillfully he learns to make the world dance with a crook of his finger.

Years later, Lan Wangji accidentally destroys an amphora containing a djinn. He, in a fit of anger, speaks carelessly for once in his life, at the worst possible moment he could have done so. He rides back into town as fast as Wei Ying’s horse can carry them. He hears of a mage who might be able to help. “No mages,” Wei Ying tries to say, but there’s barely enough air in his lungs to force it out as words. Lan Wangji drags him to the mage’s door and begs for help. Nie Huaisang does it out of curiosity more than anything. Never met a witcher who couldn’t guard their mind before. What happened to your magic?

Get out of my head, Wei Ying thinks, but he lets the mage heal him.

“Why no mages?” Lan Wangji finds the courage to ask, much later, months later, fingers trembling over his guqin with the paralyzing shame of his actions. Wei Ying looks away and tells him the story of two siblings — Wen Qing and Wen Ning — marked as cursed, tells him the head of the Brotherhood, Jin Guangshan, sent his nephew Jin Zixun to kill them for fear of what they could become. He walked into the middle of the conflict. Both Jin Zixun and the siblings asked him for his help. Wei Ying chose the Wens. He killed Jin Zixun. The mages declared him an enemy. When Jiang Cheng tried to protect him, they nearly killed him. To repay Wei Ying, Wen Qing saved Jiang Cheng’s life. But no magic comes without a price, and the price for this was Wei Ying’s witcher magic. Afterward, Wei Ying demanded the Jiang school of witchers disown him, and make peace with the Brotherhood, for everyone’s sake. To cement the peace, Jiang Yanli married a mage and Jin Zixun’s cousin, Jin Zixuan.

(Lan Wangji understands, now, why he’s only every met Jiang Cheng and Jiang Yanli in the wilderness, and then only rarely, why Wei Ying has pleaded with him not to write songs about them, why his brother tried to caution him away, why his uncle seems so exceptionally chilly on the rare occasions they see each other.)

(Nie Huaisang learned Wei Ying’s history while he was poking through his mind. He laughed when Wei Ying asked if he was going to kill him. “Your friend promised me gold and music if you live,” he said. “I would far rather have that than the dubious honor of giving your head to Jin Guangshan on a platter.”)

(It was Jin Guangshan, after all, who — with someone whispering in his ear, Nie Huaisang is certain — noticed how dangerous letting him go home to his brother would make the Unclean Realm, and instead contrived to send him to the ends of the earth, where Nie Huaisang elected to abandon his duties and the Brotherhood.)

Wen Ruohan rules Qishan with the defected Brotherhood mage Meng Yao by his side. He has found and welcomed back his distant relatives Wen Qing and Wen Ning, in the years since they met Wei Wuxian. Hearing their stories, he sends an invitation to the Black Wolf Witcher, to come visit his kingdom. Wei Wuxian pleads and cajoles Lan Wangji into going with him because really Lan Zhan, do I seem like I belong in rich halls among the nobility? I don’t even know what shirt to buy.

(Okay I am about to careen wildly into Simply Making Shit Up that only has a passing resemblance to either canon, bear with me.)

Wen Ruohan, in the midst of his entire court, demands Wei Wuxian choose a reward for saving Wen Qing and Wen Ning’s lives (Wen Qing saving Jiang Cheng’s life is not, cannot be public knowledge). Wei Wuxian tries to demur, but Wen Ruohan refuses to exist in anyone’s debt, let alone an outcast witcher’s. Somewhat desperate and on the spot, Wei Wuxian invokes the Law of Surprise. It can’t be seen as insultingly low or high in value, and he figures at most he’ll get a puppy from the next litter of Wen Ruohan’s hunting dogs, or something equally inane, and they can all call it even. Unfortunately for everyone, Wen Xu’s wife chooses this exact moment to become spectacularly ill, the first sign other than a late period that she is pregnant with Wen Ruohan’s first grandchild. Wei Wuxian flees. He spends a lot of the next few years fleeing.

(“Come to Gusu with me,” Lan Wangji pleads, some time later, on top of a mountain.

“No,” Wei Ying tells him, not because he doesn’t want to, not because he wouldn’t leave the path if he could, but because he can’t stop running, because there are too many maligned creatures who don’t deserve death and too many monsters preying on innocent people that do, because if he doesn’t help them who will, because how can he stop, because he’s terrified of stopping.

“I cannot watch you destroy yourself, Wei Wuxian.”

“Then leave, Lan Wangji.”)

It ends in fire, when Wen Ruohan grows too power hungry, and the Brotherhood turns on him with the Unclean Realm and Lan Wangji’s family on their side, and it turns out that Meng Yao’s defection from the Brotherhood was an act (some of the time? all of time?) and he’s been spying (for years? for months?). Nie Mingjue manages to pull his brother out of exile in return for his help against the Wens, although Nie Huaisang is doubtful about the merits of this.

Wei Wuxian is there when it happens, having been dragged reluctantly back by the strings of fate and the nebulous tie to a child he has never met but who is still a child and doesn’t deserve to die in the coming carnage. Wen Ruohan locks him away for trying to take his grandchild — and heir, after both Wen Xu and Wen Chao perish on the battlefield. He escapes while the city is sacked, but doesn’t manage to find Wen Yuan before he’s fled the city. Instead he finds Wen Qing and Wen Ning, and defends them from the mages when they come into the city. It would’ve been a futile effort, if not for Nie Huaisang and — surprisingly — Meng Yao, who had been at court with them for years at that point, and — even more surprisingly — Jin Zixuan, who has had years of cajoling from Jiang Yanli at this point, stepping to his side. It’s enough that they’re allowed to leave unscathed.

Wen Yuan, meanwhile, meets an elf boy called Jingyi, flees through the fields of refugees, and learns that he has the same kind of magic or curse he heard people whispering about his relatives Wen Qing and Wen Ning having.

Wei Wuxian, Wen Qing, and Wen Ning find A-Yuan in a destroyed field, lost but alone no more, and he runs into their arms.

Aaaaaaaaaand I have run out of Witcher canon, and this is also OBNOXIOUSLY long by now, so uh, pending part two, maybe, when s2 happens/when I read the books, whichever comes first

[bigfan-fanfic]

OC Details - DA OC Canon Posse + MGITs

From @3n-vee‘s “Extremely Detailed OC Ask Meme”

For Tash Adaar, Owain Bonneville, Henry Lucas, Cal and Ava Hawke, Morgan Walker, Aster Amell, Katie Cousland, and Reyn Caron

I started with Tash, then decided to only do the fun ones and add more characters. *shrugs*

The Basics

1. Age, Birthday, Star Sign (Tash only)

12-13 at the beginning of Inquisition, 15 at the end of Trespasser. Born 18 Guardian, 9:28 Dragon. Sign: Fervenial

3. Orientation and Relationship Status

Tash is a child, but when he is older, he will find he is gay. I kind of ship him with Kieran so that everyone is one big happy familly (Aster is cousins with the Hawkes, Cal adopted Tash, who eventually marries Kieran, son of Morrigan and Morgan.)

Owain is also a gay man who I have not yet settled on a canon relationship for. but whom I ship quite hard with @herald-divine-hell‘s OC Amayian Trevelyan

Henry is a panromantic asexual man whose relationship status I have not decided yet. Perhaps Cole.

Cal is a bisexual man married to Varric. 

Ava is a straight woman married to Sebastian but also in a polyamorous relationship with Fenris. 

Morgan is a biromantic and demisexual man in a committed relationship with Morrigan. Although I also ship him with @herald-divine-hell‘s OC Alexandra.

Aster is a homoromantic graysexual man married to Alistair. 

Katie is a bisexual woman and single. 

Reyn is a demiromantic bisexual man who I might decide to put in a relationship. 

6. Headcanon VA  (Tash only)

Unknown - although Tash does have a Marcher accent, slightly less thick than Blackwall’s. 

7. Occupation (Tash only)

Former Lord Inquisitor, Lord of Ylenn Basin, and Heir to the Viscount of Kirkwall - also Knight-Enchanter?

12. Own any pets?

Tash has a pet fennec fox named Harold. 

Ava and Cal have a mabari pet named Socks. 

Aster has a mabari hound that originally belonged to the late Elissa Cousland that he named Barksy, although to anyone besides Alistair or Aster, he must be referred to as Ser Barksy or Lord Barksy.

13. Have any kids?

Morgan, of course, has Kieran with Morrigan. He wouldn’t mind more if she was up for it. 

Cal has officially adopted Tash with Varric as of Trespasser. 

Ava and Sebastian are trying for an heir to the throne, although she may already be pregnant by Fenris. None of the others have children.

Owain, Aster, and Katie will want children eventually. It’s more complicated for Alistair and Aster since the Ferelden throne passes by blood. Aster wouldn’t mind taking care of Alistair’s child by a surrogate should circumstances prevent adoption.

Reyn doesn’t think children will happen for him, as a Warden, but should a child be born, he will love and care for them above all else.

Henry is undecided on children. As is Tash.

15. Can they sing? Can they dance?

Tash loves to dance and sing. He’s an average singer, but was trained well in court dancing, and enjoys making appearances at balls and events. 

Aster is more clumsy than a drunken druffalo, and is terrible at dancing, but he’s a surprisingly good singer, who would sing many duets with Leliana back during Origins. 

Cal and Ava only sing when drunk, although Ava learns to dance well. 

Owain both dances and sings like a trained bard. 

Reyn and Katie never sing, but both are passable dancers. 

Morgan likes singing to Morrigan and Kieran, and dancing with his wife (and occasionally with Zevran or Leliana), but isn’t comfortable with very many others. 

Henry can’t dance very well, and can only really sing in a crowd, but does both on his own anyway.

18. Have any special keepsakes?

Tash keeps a pair of specialized horn cushions Josephine had commissioned for him at Skyhold and finds them wonderful to sleep in. He also adores the handcrafted chess set he whittled with Blackwall. 

Owain will keep anything given to him or made for him by his lover, wearing it if possible or at least keeping it nearby. 

Henry has his phone, with all the memories it brings. It has long since lost its charge, but he keeps it close anyway as a reminder. 

Morgan has the ring given to him by Morrigan, as well as a smooth river stone that Kieran inscribed with the same rune Morgan has tattooed on his bicep. 

Aster still has the rose Alistair gave him, enchanted to never lose it’s beauty. It reminds him of his husband’s sweet nature. He also has a small figurine of a Circle mage that an older apprentice in Kinloch (Anders) made for him when he was very sad one day.

Katie has her charm bracelet from before she came to Thedas which acts like a talisman for her to know that she really did come from another world. 

Reyn has a scarf made for him by a stable boy he loved before leaving his family estate for the Academie des Chevaliers and a Dalish wedding ring given to him by an elven bride who he spared before going into exile and joining the Wardens.

Interests

19. Hobbies (Tash only)

Singing, dancing, writing, doing paperwork, chess, listening, dog care, designing fashion and furniture for the Inquisition, collecting Orlesian masks, and attending Orlesian theatre.

21. Fave food(s) and drink(s)

For some reason, Tash loves the notoriously awful-tasting Orlesian pastry known as the “Exquisite Misery.” It serves as an inadvertent power move in Orlesian circles, but his absolute favorite food is fresh-baked bread (reminds him of his home). Tash also enjoys hot cocoa ever since the Iron Bull shared some of his supply.

As a rule, Aster likes sharing Orlesian charcuterie with Alistair as a picnic in their chambers or the courtyard when they can get away from affairs of state. He’s also partial to fruit juices.

Morgan, Henry, and Katie all wish pizza was a thing in Thedas. There is a dish similar to it in Antiva, but nothing quite resembling it. Katie has gotten the closest to having actual pizza, being a noblewoman with cooks she can instruct. Morgan has inadvertently addicted Morrigan to coffee when he found out how to make it using magic. Henry likes water, but it’s hard to find a stable source of clean drinking water in Thedas. Katie adores tea.

The Wardens don’t often have fine food, and Reyn misses petit fours. He enjoys his personal Warden liquor mixture - Commander’s Concoction.

For Fun

37. Do they have any phobias?

Tash is a timid person in general, and is afraid of miscellaneous things from spiders to dolls with buttons for eyes. But no real debilitating phobias. 

Cal, Ava, Aster, and Henry all fear spiders.

Owain hates heights.

Nugs freak Katie out.

Morgan and Reyn feel fear, but have no phobias.

43. What pokemon would your character be (if they’re already a pokemon/gijinka tell us what they are, and how that’s affected them)?

Tash Owain Henry Cal Ava Aster Morgan Katie Reyn

44. What’s their pokemon team? Try to pick all 6.

Tash Owain Henry Cal Ava Aster Morgan Katie Reyn

45. Theme song (and a playlist if you’ve got it!)

Tash: “Shake it Off” by Taylor Swift or “It’s a Good Day” by Kay Starr

Owain: “Dog Days Are Over” by Florence + The Machine and for romance: “All You Need Is Love” by the Beatles

Henry: “No Rain” by Blind Melon or “(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay” by Otis Redding

Cal: “Dream On” by Aerosmith and for romance: “I Can’t Help Myself” by the Four Tops

Ava: “Royals” by Lorde and for romance: “Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince” by Taylor Swift

Aster: “Can You Tell Me How To Get to Sesame Street?” (2000) and for romance: “Love on Top” by Beyonce

Morgan: “People Are Strange” by The Doors and for romance: “Beauty and the Beast” by Angela Lansbury

Katie: “I Love It” by Icona Pop feat. Charlie XCX

Reyn: “The Wanderer” by Dion

46. If this character was in a musical, what would their motif be (what kind of instruments do you hear, what’s the tempo, ect).

Tash: Simple peppy flute that gradually becomes joined by other instruments to form a full-sounding orchestra with complex melodies. 

Owain: Slow, sad piano that is joined by violin and becomes strong and anthemic. 

Henry: Plucked cello strings. Inquisitive.

Cal: Brass section, room for improvisation. Bright and joyful.

Ava: Oboe and Bassoon, deep and reflective. 

Aster: Fiddles and flute, playing simple fast-paced dance music.

Morgan: Orchestration accompanied by electric guitar - shouldn’t work together but it does here.

Katie: Sharp woodwinds and guitar. Very formal, almost like wedding dance music.

Reyn: Acoustic guitar trio. Perhaps Spanish guitar. Contemplative and sexy.

The Deep Lore™

49. What are some themes tied to your character’s story?

Tash, Aster, Henry, Katie- Loss of Innocence

Owain, Ava - Self-Acceptance

Cal, Reyn - Mutual Pining/Unrequited Love 

Morgan - Found Family, Parenthood

[j0shaw0tt]

1,2,8,16,19,22,25,35 💌

Thanks sistah, I wouldn’t be here without ya 😉😉😉 I SAID A LOT HERE, SO HERE COMES A READ MORE:

1. if you were to have Hanahaki disease, what flowers would you cough up?

Bitch this should be an easy one, one of two flower petals: ROSES, or SAKURA BLOSSOMS. Because I’m a romantic, cheesy , weaboo son of a bitch and by god, this disease would be clear proof of it 🌹🌸 This is a weird disease though, had to look it up and I don’t know how what flower affects if I had it, guess it depends on the person so I chose my ideal flowers.

2. if someone were to catch Hanahaki disease for you, what flowers would they cough up?

See this is where I got confused when looking it up, but they would cough up say my favorite flowers? It would probably be roses most likely because they are thorny and unrequited love is a bitch. If it were the happier side to the disease, maybe pansies or sakura leaves? Piggybacking from my last ask, carnations are favorite of mine and a specific one I like is called “Baby’s Breath”, which can also factor into this disease, I can see it working visually compared to the other flowers.

8. what combination of natural scents would you use as perfume?

This is your expertise, not mine!! :’D I don’t know much about COMBINING scents, some of my favorites are mint/sage leaves, the smell of the land after rain, peach, cherry, apples and strawberries (peach and cherry blossoms for the lotion I use), vanilla, lavender, and coffee. As far as combinations for perfume, maybe things like mint + strawberries/peach, or mint + vanilla, sage + cherry, sage + lavender, or cherry + peach.

(16 was already answered, plus we’ve talked about it a bit, just updated it a bit, tell me what you think😘)

  19. show us an a picture of your ideal crown.

Will show at the bottom of this because Tumblr is shit uwu

22. tell us, in detail, about a curse a witch would put on you.

WELL, I would probably FLIRT horribly with the witch first and foremost, whether she is the goth gf type witch or the big nosed old fairytale style witch, and she would either cast a spell regarding love or my tongue? For love, it would probably be something like “you fill these people with empty sweet nothings, now they will see through your bluffings!” and suddenly, my charm no longer works, or no one believes anything about me, or it could go as far as a a long term relationship fucking up out of nowhere towards the end. As far as my tongue, she could either mute, literally take my tongue away, or twist my tongue around if I attempt to flirt with someone else with no long term goal in mind? Fuck man, I’m happy I’m a GOOD flirt, not a real asss womanizer :’)

25. favorite childhood story? (doesn’t have to be a fairy tale)

Okay this one is a doozie and about a video game I’ve probably never talked about here. 

When i was a kid and got my first Playstation, my dad had a few games but the one that stood out was called “Orphen: Scion of Sorcery”, some obscure action game based on another obscure anime with the same title character, Orphen, who looked like a wannabe punk but also used swords made of magic. It was probably my first experience with anime before watching anime for reals, since it had characters with colorful hair, over the top music and characters, and anime ass battles, like Orphen fighting basically LEVIATHAN as a first boss, while the dragon is destroying the ship he is on and Orphen is jumping around the sails while shouting anime spells in a cringy voice.

But it’s that same cringy voice I used to replicate on the school yard, I would run around with other kids shouting shit like “THE HAND OF PYRO” (AND ITS SAID EMPHASIZED JUST LIKE THAT) and pretend to shoot fireballs. Like, this shit was so weird that game, and the story itself was confusing but I was able to barely comprehend the story at hand, since it all involves helping three major characters whose stories don’t interact but the villains in one story will be the allies in another, and it was a mess but also very emotional at times. 

The last major thing I got from this game was one of the characters you helped called Mar, a little boy who is trying to find his mom, using a lullaby she sang to him as a clue, constantly playing on his flute. What’s cool is who was able to fight by playing notes and sending music notes as an attack, and used other instruments like cymbals too. What stuck with me the most was that lullaby, his theme, and was probably a precursor to my appreciation for music. It was annoying at first because he would play it on a loop, but you would hear it throughout his story in other ways, such as an organ version. It was less annoying but had a bigger impact, because the organ version came from a character that has is possibly his mother, and has to constantly play the song on her organ or else some beast residing in the island their on will awaken.  When I fought said beast and he played his song again to subdue it, thats when the impact of the song really hit me, and I understood just how powerful music was for him, to that island, and to the monster. Fuck man, its music therapy for the monster, maybe my pursuit of it stemmed from his story.

ANYWAYS ThAT WAS A RANt. What you need to take away from this is, one of my first big games was some obscure anime game, I shouted the main dudes battle spells at school, and I learned different meanings of music through Mar and the game in general. It was a weird experience but I had a full cathartic experience once I was older and played it to its end and understood it all. It may have been cringe, but its a hidden gem in my book!

35. what song would the bards sing about you when you passed by? 

I’m gonna just leave this for you: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LkW2m3qsTZQ

Ideal crown!:

LOOK IN REALITY, I DONT LIKE CROWNS. I’ve never looked into it and I’d never wear one unless its for cosplay or that Party City one, that looks like this: 

Burger King crowns are the only thing good about them, don’t @ me.

And this is Orphen!!

I forgot to mention this guy fueled my edgy teen years a bit probably adkjalglag

[mysticmysterywrites-blog]

Prompt #6

Hey, so this prompt ended up being over 2000 words. I'm telling you now, you absolutely do not have to match it. Like, you can choose to. This is something you can choose to do! But I'm not going to force you to, because I'm 9/10 not gonna match this fuckers length again for a good long time.

Anyway!

I'm kinda hoping for a male character as a reply? The character I'm writing is like, 100% homo of the sexual, and he absolutely fuck with your character a few times while they're traveling. That said, if you really want to play a female character, I'm not that hard to convince (being the massive fucking gay that I am). But also, might end up needing to wipe the romantic aspect from it!

At least w/ Kimon, anyway. His brothers fair game to all genders.

Real fast. Kimon and Thales are human twins, the first being a bard and the second a wizard. They have darker skin, with red-brown hair and brown eyes. Kimon keeps his styled a bit shorter, and sticks to wearing lots of blacks and greys like the emo fucker he is. Probably best known for playing fantasy My Chemical Romance in the middle of the night. Thales keeps his hair down to about his chest, and dresses up in robes and a barrage of colors and patterns thats insulting to anyone actually trying. He's actually p happy, as a person. And you know, the necromancer.

When he's 5 he trips and cuts his leg on the pointed ocean stones, the sea salt slipping into the wound with each lap of the water

He cries and cries and cries, letting the tears replace the ocean mist on his face. His mother eventually notices his screams and comes rushing over to check on him, but his brother watches the way the blood falls from his wound, eyes wide in facination, hand gripping his in an attempt to comfort him.

The memory is eventually forgotten with time, but the fascination is not, and the two of them take very different paths in life.

~~

He starts learning the piano when he's 7, takes fascination in the way that it sounds and feels. Every touch of a new key is a new feeling of wonder and excitement, Eventually, he takes excitement in the way that the lights around him glitter and dance, turning to the tune of the piano. He gets caught like that, playing to lights that shouldn't be there.

His mother is hesitant, of course. Bards are well known for their love of travel, for never standing in one place. Their father was like that. Always wanting to travel and move, always wanting to explore the world. It got him killed, and screwed her leg up, and she didn't want that for her baby boys. She wanted them to live a comfortable, cushiony life. Something boring. Something safe.

However, eventually she relents. He's not a particularly happy child (and hell, even as an adult is admittedly not the tellitubbies sun.) But playing against the piano always made him smile, and she loves when he smiles.

Over the years, He learns to master the piano, and then the violin, then the flute, then the guatar, and even the harp. Always falls back to the piano, but finds just as much enjoyment in every other instrument he learns. Violin offers him the most mobility, however, and mobility eventually offers him places amongst parties of adventurers or caravans.

His brother studies book after text next to him, humming along to the songs he plays time and time again, and eventually is rewarded a stave for his troubles.

~

They leave home when they're 16.

It's a hard choice to make. Admittedly, they have a rather comfortable life. Their mother has money and resources. Earned her place amongst nobility, rather then born. She knows who to talk to, and how to talk to them, and as a result they all live comfortable lives.

But he wants to travel, and his brother is running out of books to study from. He craves knowledge, craves digging deeper into magic he shouldn't have access to. He doesn't understand it, at the time. He, personally, just wants to tell stories. Learn other people stories. Wants to learn stories that have been passed down time and time again, and pass them onto other people.

But his brother wants knowledge, the kind hidden behind lock and key deep in temples and forgotten cities.

And forgotten cities have some pretty damn kick-ass stories to tell.

~~

When they're younger, there's this tiefling girl that comes to their house a lot.

Her names Laelia, and she has this absolutely gorgeous purple skin, and big horns that crook and curve down, following the curve of her back and curl of her black hair. Her eyes are a bright green color, and fingers and teeth are sharp and shinning. She scares his brother, at first. But, Their mother welcomes her with open arms, speaks curses of the girl's parents and their dismissal. Sometimes, she stays for months on end before her parents remember she exists, come and claim her once again.

But she always end up back at their house, and their mother teaches her how to stalk around in the shadows, how to take full advantage of the smallest blade. Her sons might have been magic users, but the girl becomes her daughter, and she gladly passes on her techniques to her as she would a child of her own blood.

She travels with them for a while. She grows close to dying three times, then meets a small group

Her last words to him weren't a goodbye. She didn't believe in goodbyes, whatever that meant. She believed that the word was "Kimon, watch out for your brother," she'd tell him, placing her hands on his shoulder and glancing over at him, "he's getting into some things that are far outside his payroll, if you get what I'm throwing down."

He raised an eyebrow, and at the time he didn't understand. She could see that, he thinks. So, she just sighs and mutters.

"Its- nevermind. Just focus on keeping yourself safe, babe," and then she'd smack him on the back of the head, and turn to walk away. ~~

They find the first book in a temple hidden away, seemingly lost to time itself. Its made of stone and gold, the shine of the metal seeming to dance through the cracks of the stone. Light struggles to make its way inside, and Thales lights their path with a small flame, just in front of the two of them.

Theres a skeleton in the middle of the floor, a body as forgotten as the temple, and stains that even sink into the cracks of the floor. They ignore it, and go about shuffling through the books and notes the deceased wizard had left behind.

Thales thumbs through it with fascination glinting in his eyes and mouth opening and shutting about every now and again. "It's powerful stuff," he mutters, mostly to himself, "I don't know if I've ever seen anything like it."

They spend over a month there, as his brother copies spell after spell down. He doesn't mind, because he's spent three months in towns writing down stories and local fables. But it still worries him, the way his fingers linger over the necromancy books for so long.

~~

There's this girl they meet.

She's beautiful. Hair large, curly. Pure white against a nice tan. She dresses in pinks and whites, carries around a hammer larger then she is. Her skin is callous around her fingers, eyes are brighter then ocean water, and she has a laugh he thinks he could play a song to.

Kimon likes her well enough. Thales falls for her immediately.

The sound of her spine snapping is somehow both memorizing, and sickening.

~~

His cat brings him a little dead bird one day. It's feathers are pulled out and it's guts are destroyed, and the little bastard looks so pleased with himself over it. He grumbles and goes to clean it up, but his brother snatches up the job before he has the chance. Whatever. He's always been a fucking weirdo.

He doesn't think much of it. Wizards were just kind of like that. Maybe he needed the bones, or the feathers. Maybe it was some rare kinda bird, or maybe he just liked the look of the thing. He wasn't one to judge, he supposed.

He comes back three days later, holds up the bird, fluttering and chirping and as happy as could be.

"Kimon," he tells him, hope barely stinging through his voice, "I think I could bring her back."

~~

His brother leaves in the middle of the night, one night, and he doesn't bother coming back. Doesn't leave a note, doesn't say goodbye. He just fuckin' leaves, like the goddamn jackass he is. His anger is replaced by worry only when, two years later, he hears stories of a necromancer causing trouble on a snowy mountain.

~~

There's a few times where he's wrong

There's a few times where he joins a party chasing after a necromancer, only for them to stumble across a cult, or some other dumbass wizard in over their head on the concept of their own power. He doesn't feel bad, helping to bring their end. He doesn't have a connection to them, doesn't feel the pain they do. But it's disappointing everytime. He wants to find his brother, wants to know hes okay.

But he almost always ends up jumping from the party, after they're done.

He meets up with Laelia's party again, travel with them to some sea side town he knows he's been to but doesn't remember the name of. He doesn't tell them about his brother, knows the looks Laelia gives him when he asks are knowing and worried.

They stop at a little in, one thats run down and near abandoned, but has maybe some of the best fries he's tastes in years. He preforms for them to snag them a free room, and thats where he meets them.

They're different. He doesn't know why, but they feel different. He lingers around for a bit, listens to the way they speak and the tales they spin. It might be eaves dropping, to a small degree, but he finds himself so inticed by their words that he doesn't care.

He only approaches them after they tell the tale of a necromancer they've taken down, and how they plan to hunt down another one sometime soon. "I hear you're going after a necromancer," the words feel foreign, sour on his tongue, despite the fact that he's said them time and time over, "Up north, right? How much are you paying?"

And then he separates from Laelia's party once more, to fall in line with them.

~~

He sleeps with them about three times, overall

The first time was excusable. They were both drunk, and he was admittedly touch starved. Every moment their hand lingered against his arm, it shot a feeling of euphoria up into his side, made him see lights he didn't know existed. He tried to play his instrument that night, but the cords were sloppy, and tune was off, and all he succeeded in doing was making them laugh. And hell, their laughter was gorgeous. Waking up the next day curled into their side hadn't been surprised, but he found he couldn't care as much as he should have with a hang over.

The second time wasn't as easily excusable, so much as it was stupidity. Theres this dance they go to, you see. Need to get all dressed up for it, know how to slow dance and eat finger foods and shit. They need to get in and steal a book from the man running the party, something of an easy task. They're talking in private, somewhere quiet, more like arguing, when the doors open. He thinks too fast, doesn't think through his plan. All he knows is that they have papers, books that they shouldn't, and that could be anyone. He slams his lips down onto theirs, lets them linger as the intruders startle, then pass. Flustered, but not knowing any better as to what they've obtained. And they don't bother separating, at least for the night. They're both touch starved, both angry.

The third time? There was no excuse. Nothing he could blame it on. They'd been sitting out by the camp fire, as he plucked gently at the strings of his instrument and played a quiet tune. It was just the two of them, party members be damned. It was cold. They were both tired, both hungry. They'd move closer together, quietly- gratefully- taking in the warmth of the other body heat. He'd bitch at them for ruining the tune of the song he was playing, and they'd laugh at him for it. He'd place his head on their shoulder, place his violin down. Move closer. Kiss them.

They end up in his tent, and he ends up with cricks all up his back, and half a regret from the night earlier.

~~

He tells himself not to get too attached to them. They're a means to an end, nothing more, nothing less.

But Dammit.

He likes them

~~

Theres tubes, filled with green liquid he can't really see through fully, but can see enough through to make out the form of a person.

The basement becomes colder, especially as he hears familiar humming deeper in it.

~~

He would have slept with them more, is the thing.

But despite being a bard, he can't seduce to save his fucking life, and they always shuffle away when he gets close. So he doesn't, and they move on with their lives.

~~

There's this little cabin tucked away in the mountains that they stumble across. While it appears abandoned at first, it's worn and well loved on the interior, Ash and dust having collected, just as much as footsteps and food have. There's evidence of someone living there, but not evidence of there currently being someone THERE.

They find a door under a rug, and that's where they hit gold.

~~

They travel together for at least a year.

They have a tendency to get, well. Sidetracked, is the thing. A small quest here leads to a bigger quest there, and suddenly something that should have only taken three months at most is taking a year to get done. Its an easy pattern to fall into. They're the first person he's felt compelled to stay around in a while, and he doesn't mind getting dragged off to do the next big thing.

Still. He worries what will happen, in the end.

~~

He makes a choice he decides not to regret.

He changes his target.

He's always been good at adding buffs. He plays on the defensive, prefers not to get hit. But it's hard. It's hard to concentrate on protecting both teams. He doesn't want his brother dead, and his brother doesn't want to die, which makes him terrifying. Thales always had a good grasp on magic, and watching him use it against them turns his heart cold.

He could tell that his brother, at least, was picking up on something being off, the way he noticeably double takes at him. His mask covers only the base of his face, but his hat covers the rest of it. But he knows his play style is unique, knows his brother has watched him cast spells with his magic almost his entire life. He notices, about half way through, how Thales backs off. Opens his mouth to say something. Gets himself knocked out as a result of it.

The shriek of the violin stops the battle in it's tracks, and he's turning his heel as his brother falls to the ground. Passed out, he tells himself. He's hurt and bloody and tired, but his brother is only passed out. He looks over the eyes of the person he's been traveling with for over a year now, the person that sweeps his feet out from under him and plays with his heart.

He's not sure if what he feels is love, or lust, but it doesn't change the fact that he's pointing a knife at them.

"Let me make this very clear," he raises the bow of his violin up, something he liked to think was a little more threatening due to the curve of the end being sharpened, due to them having watched him fight time and time again, "If you touch him, any farther, I- I will kill you. Even you can't be /that/ fuckin stupid. Step OFF."