#bard feels like the kind of person to just straight up tell you what he thinks. it does take a few weeks of further warming up but

[magmacannon]

11-20, 21-30 for bothul and romanman? :D

OKAY I answered 13-20 and 28-30 for Roman in other asks but I'm gonna Lightning Round this... these two will be fun to compare (<- polar opposite character types)

11. If someone was impersonating them, what would friends / family ask or do to tell the difference?

Bothul: A regular doppleganger cannot transform into a fuckoff huge dragon now can it??? Radiation Blast for your impudence

Roman: Ask the doppleganger about 1. his history with Vince (if there isn't an hour long story at least that's Not Him), 2. ask him about how he feels about John (if you get a regular answer that's probably also not him) Physically if the impersonator can't spellshape a lightning bolt that's also a solid tell!

12. What’s something that makes them laugh every single time? Be specific!

Bothul: Their little bard-servant whining and making a fool of themselves to the point that they straight up fall over for attention <3

Roman: Getting attacked by his husband moob-first (tbf a lot of the things Vince does - to make him laugh tbf - get him every time)

13. When do they fake a smile? How often?

B: If Bothul fakes a smile it's because she's Plotting someone's demise in a relatively short timespan (this could be within minutes) - she doesn't feign emotions or smile readily unless it's a game. It's not too often that he does this - probably to the relief of the surrounding towns.

14. How do they put out a candle?

B: However the hell he wants (giant dragon). Might even get their servants to do it or just use a spell to get Every Candle at Once.

15. What’s the most obvious difference between their behavior at home, at work, at school, with friends, and when they’re alone?

B: Bothul alone is eerily quiet, preferring to keep her thoughts to herself (in case there's something listening). With friends (servants/supplicants) he's extremely showy and loud, and when working there's an unerring intensity in her actions that goes for weeks on end sometimes.

16. What kinds of people do they have arguments with in their head?

B: Larger, objectively more powerful dragons that Bothul hopes to defeat/subjugate. More and more thru his plot though it's also himself as his thoughts start to get scattered by outside forces.

17. What do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

B: Bothul notices the Majesty of Their Huge Body first, and I think that's probably what most other people notice first too (dragon or humanoid form they're Biglarge pff)

18. Who do they love truly, 100% unconditionally (if anyone)?

B: She loves herself 100% and that is IT. Everything else has contracts and conditions.

19. What would they do if stuck in a room with the person they’ve been avoiding?

B: Bothul would fucking kill them!!! They would either have to grovel Immediately or they would no longer exist. (I don't think Bothul really... avoids anyone, tbf. Too direct for that one.)

20. Who do they like as a person but hate their work? Vice versa, whose work do they like but don’t like the person?

B: About to be mean but her bard.... she likes that little weirdo but their work is only Sometimes Excellent (it's not bad persay but he demands Perfection and is loudly disappointed when it falls flat). Bothul also likes/admires (begrudgingly) the work of other successful dragons but hates them all So Much.

21. What common etiquette do they disagree with? Do they still follow it?

B: Turning the Other Cheek - Bothul NEVER does this much to the detriment of anyone who is perceived as stepping against her.

R: Minding your own business is probably his biggest one. Roman does it sometimes but loves to stick his nose in things when he can (to try and fix/help with them or perhaps, sometimes, just to be nosy).

22. What simple activity that most people do / can do scares your character?

B: Fit in small spaces :( (I think he might be mildly claustrophobic but this isn't usually an issue bc. digging power)

R: Calm down <:( (in actuality it's like. jfhdj attend school parties, he was genuinely terrified of them in school)

23. What do they feel guilty for that the other person(s) doesn’t / don’t even remember?

B: This one's really hard bc Bothul is pretty remorseless but. Maybe eating a sibling's egg as a baby???? MAYBE

R: I know Roman's carrying 18 different off-hand comments he made over the last decade to Vince that could be interpreted in a slightly mean fashion in his mind like small bells... I do Not think Vince remembers those.

24. Did they take a cookie from the cookie jar? What kind of cookie was it?

B: Ate the cookie jar to impress her bard (hippo jaw attack)

R: Yeah absolutely and it was oatmeal raisin!!! He took another one for whoever confronts him abt it tho

25. What subject / topic do they know a lot about that’s completely useless to the direct plot?

B: The specific temperature fluctuations on her birth swamp over the last two centuries and its effects on methane production and health of the local flora/fauna

R: SO FAR his incredible knowledge of DRAGONS has been useless to the direct plot which wtf!!!! He also knows a whole lot about the ins and outs of the child gangs(???) in Willowring bc he's talked to his kid about it a lot (I should have him use young teen slang to annoy Warren, actually)

26. How would they respond to being fired by a good boss?

B: They would Never have a boss above them

R: If there was ANY possibility of being rehired he'd try for it bc that'd just be sad!!! But he'd ultimately try to talk about how to improve and ask for a recommendation letter for his next job if his relationship with said boss was okay uu

27. What’s the worst gift they ever received? How did they respond?

B: Curse of the Depths (became extremely paranoid) is only slightly worse than the first Song of Praise his bard wrote for him (laughed at it and then commanded another try)

R: I rolled a 4 on a d20 to see how bad this'd be. Worst 'gift' is when Vulture gave him a spider directly onto his hand (he's scared of them), worst actual gift was a coupon for an Official Tzeraz Military Uniform from his family when he graduated. For Vulture he screamed and died Forever - for the gift from his family he thanked them and let the pit in his stomach get cold before probably burning that coupon a year later.

28. What do they tell people they want? What do they actually want?

B: He wants More Power and for his plans to succeed (in truth his plans are far more complex and long-winded, and have built in failsafes for if things go wrong. Also MAYBE there's a want to retreat and take things easier/enjoy life more but he can't possibly SHOW that one)

29. How do they respond when someone doesn’t believe them?

B: Kill their ass!!!! Or make them pay for their insolence, somehow.

30. When they make a mistake and feel bad, does the guilt differ when it’s personal versus when it’s professional?

B: Again Bothul doesn't really feel guilt - in either case it would be extremely superficial and her apology would feel shallow, even if the act of apologizing itself was a big thing for her.

[voyage-inferno]

1. WHAT IS YOUR NAME?: "I'm Benny!"

2. WHAT IS YOUR REAL NAME?: "Um,, Bennett? If you want all the last names, we'll be here a while."

3. DO YOU KNOW WHY YOU’RE CALLED THAT?: "Bennett apparently means 'blessing', so I think it was because I survived getting to the guild?"

4. ARE YOU SINGLE OR TAKEN?: "Single!"

5. WHAT ARE YOUR POWERS AND ABILITIES?: "Oh I'm Pyro!! I use it to heal, or I coat my blade in it for extra umph! I also know how to pop back dislocated stuff on myself! If that counts?"

6. WHAT COLOR ARE YOUR EYES?: "Green!"

7. HAVE YOU EVER DYED YOUR HAIR?: "Not on purpose. It could be fun though!! Maybe I should try blue,,"

8. DO YOU HAVE ANY FAMILY MEMBERS?: "Oh tons!! I have all my dads, Fischl, Kaeya, Kathryne-" he keeps going.

9. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS?: "If artificial seelie count, then yeah! I've had some pets."

10. TELL ME ABOUT SOMETHING YOU DON’T LIKE: "Spicy foods. And I'm mad about it. You're telling me, I can't eat something delicious because it'll try to eat me back?? Now THAT is a cruel curse."

11. DO YOU HAVE ANY HOBBIES OR ACTIVITIES YOU DO IN YOUR SPARE TIME?: "Other than adventuring? Well, I like playing tcg, maybe that counts? Or hanging out in the archives- I like to experience stuff for myself, but when a fresh account of somewhere I can't go comes in, it's worth sitting for a second to read it!"

12. HAVE YOU EVER HURT ANYONE BEFORE?: ",,I mean, yeah? Treasure hoarders are people too."

13. HAVE YOU EVER… KILLED ANYONE?: "....Why would you ask that?"

14. WHAT KIND OF ANIMAL ARE YOU?: "?!" Well that's a shift. "Uh, I'm a human.? I guess it'd be cool to be a dragon or something?"

15. NAME YOUR WORST HABITS: "I guess I can name them? Steve, Arnold, Banana, Sandwichmaster, Rose, Pigeon, uhhh, and Cloudy. Those are all names."

16. DO YOU LOOK UP TO ANYONE?: "Anyone taller than me! Heh, uh, yeah my parents, Guild Branch Master Cyrus, Kaeya and Acting Grandmaster Jean in the knights, Chongyun- he's the exorcist from Liyue- and some other people too!"

17. GAY, STRAIGHT, OR BISEXUAL?: "I mean, there's more than that? I guess I'm closest to Bi though. Why?"

18. DO YOU GO TO SCHOOL?: "If,, homeschooling counts?"

19. DO YOU EVER WANT TO MARRY AND HAVE KIDS SOMEDAY?: "It could be nice- but probably a bad idea for me and them."

20. DO YOU HAVE ANY FANS?: "I'm not rich enough for that kind of thing. I did buy one of those handheld ones though? Kinda nice in a pinch to cool off."

21. WHAT ARE YOU MOST AFRAID OF?: "..These are weird, I'm sorry. Clown with a claymore." Partial lie.

22. WHAT DO YOU USUALLY WEAR?: "My uniform and goggles."

23. DO YOU LOVE SOMEONE?: "Yeah"

24. WHAT CLASS ARE YOU?: "..Lower middle? Maybe? Or do you mean in ttrpgs? Because there is a bard build I want to try out-"

25. HOW MANY FRIENDS DO YOU HAVE?: "I don't really know. I feel like I have a lot, but I'd have to ask them if they feel the same way."

26. WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON PIE?: "It's good! Savory, sweet, bread outside that protects the wet stuff from flies, it's a good idea! Some people even turn the top part into art, which is amazing."

27. FAVORITE DRINK?: "Berry & Mint Burst. Or Birch Sap? Honestly even just lemonade is nice, especially with ice."

29. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE?: "Anywhere where I'm happy. Guess I don't have one? Or more like, there are too many. I've got hideaways that I like a little extra though."

30. ARE YOU INTERESTED IN SOMEONE?: "..Romantically? I don't know, honestly. Feelings like that are always confusing."

31. WOULD YOU RATHER SWIM IN THE LAKE OR THE OCEAN?: "The lake! Mostly because lakes don't get riptides.. probably."

32. WHAT’S YOUR ‘TYPE’?: "Someone I feel like I can trust. Who loves me, flaws and all, and who's entirety of person I can feel love right back to. Also preferably someone who I can travel with! The world's too big not to explore!!"

33. ANY FETISHES?: "That's,, not really something you ask a stranger? Actually most of these questions aren't-"

35. CAMPING, OR INDOORS?: "In what context? I don't want to be fighting monsters indoors, but I think that sleeping in a real bed sometimes is good for your back."

36. ARE YOU WAITING FOR THIS INTERVIEW TO BE OVER?: "Yeah. I'm sorry, it's just gotten kinda weird? Hope the rest of your day is nice."

Tagged by: @mmriesoftvat (thanks a ton!!)

Tagging: @ironbloodcd, @frozenambiguity, @freshsprout, and anyone else who wants to!

[shenanigans-and-imagines]

Keep Thinking About Lucy Convincing the Older Teenagers All Playing DnD together

It first comes when, because of extenuating circumstances, Eddie can't really do Hellifire anymore

Lucy knows he misses playing the game and so calls up Steve, Nancy, and Robin to get the ball rolling

Robin relents the fastest out of all of them; her main hang up is how much math is involved, but Lucy assures her that it's not that hard once you get used to the rules, plus they both did theater together and so she lays into that angle

Nancy is next; she never got into it as it seemed like Mike's thing, but Lucy tells her she will be running the campaign so it'll be more inclusive

Jonathan is next to fall after that; he honestly isn't very good, he's tried playing with Will, but just couldn't get everything straight in his head and not the most creative player, but if Nancy is doing it than he'll join

Argyle is just in the room while this conversation is going on and says he's up for anything

The last hold out is Steve and it takes the combined efforts of everyone involved to get him to cave

Lucy helps everyone with their character sheets and getting everything in order

Robin is most likely a rogue since the whole point is just not to get hit

Nancy is some kind of spell caster, probably a wizard or something

Jonathan is a barbarian since it's the easiest to play

Argyle is a cleric and totally gets into what his god would be like

Steve is a fighter, he's gotta have a sword or something

Lucy then tells Eddie what's going on and he selects a bard to play

Admittedly it's like pulling teeth to get Eddie to give up being Dungeon Master, but Lucy knows that as helpful as he was to her when she first started, he does have a vindictive streak

He also absolutely tries to needle a sense of where Lucy is going with this before she has to put a lock on her window to keep him from climbing in looking for notes

First few sessions Eddie is playing a game of "outsmart the DM", but Lucy nips it in the bud pretty quickly

Nancy quickly establishes herself as the defacto leader, usually coming up with the strategies with Eddie as assistance as he is the most experiences player out of all of them

Robin has the most fun investigating and asks a million questions every time they play

Jonathan honestly just kind of waits for somebody to point him in a direction and hit something really, really hard

Honestly the worse of the lot of them is Steve and Argyle

Steve is a god damn menace and does not know it; the epitome of failing upward. He absolutely cannot keep the rules straight in his head, will propose the stupidest idea you’ve ever heard and roll a Nat 20

Lucy honestly thinks its kind of hilarious, but the person who absolutely destroys her as a DM is Argyle

He becomes an absolute powerhouse of a cleric and pulls the most absolutely ridiculous shit she has ever witnessed

Eddie gets nothing but satisfaction of this, even jumping out and pointing to her "YES! THAT WHAT IS FEELS LIKE!"

It is karmic punishment for all the times she destroyed his best laid plans for years

Also, completely random aside, but this would end up being what a sessions looks like; Lucy DMing in full make up and Eddie getting on the table to commit to a bit

It's a bit slow going to get everyone introduced and comfortable in their roles, but once they're in it, they're in it

[eskelbigbang]

Eskel Big Bang 2021 Masterpost

Here are all the fics and art made this year for the Eskel Big Bang. Congratulations on the hard work, everyone!

AO3 collection || #ebb works tag || #ebb art tag || #ebb fic tag

Below the cut is a full list of all EBB works:

Uprooted (T, No Pairing, 12k) by @rachofspades, art by @drachedraws

When a nondescript notice begging for a witcher's aid catches Eskel's attention on his way back to Kaer Morhen for the winter, he finds himself drawn in by his own curiosity despite his initial reservations. Once he arrives, it quickly becomes apparent that there's something more sinister going on than typical monster attacks, and he's determined to figure out what it is. Fic || Art (1) (2)

These Clay Hands (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.7k) by @aalizazareth, art by @hobbart-art

Eskel is a shy pottery instructor who meets Jaskier during one of his lessons. The two hit it off. Fic || Art

The Empty Safe Job (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 18k) by @iboughtaplant, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

A team of thieves with complicated pasts take down the rich and powerful to help those that get left out from justice. Their latest job should be simple, but an unexpected adversary has Eskel confronting his past. Sometimes bad guys make the best good guys. Fic || Art

the broken vines are an open door (M, Eskel & Geralt & Yennefer, 5.2k) by @trissmarrygoals, art by @flyingyarn

Traveling through Aedirn with his newly acquired child surprise, Eskel stumbles upon a dead body - and with it, a mystery. Fic || Art

With you I'll never be alone (T, Eskel/Geralt, 5.8k) by @dat-carovieh, art by @mondfuchs

From their first meeting, through their whole long life Geralt and Eskel have always been there to comfort each other when one of them got hurt. --- Or five times Geralt and Eskel comfort each other through some kind of hurt and one time they're just comfortable. Fic || Art

Eskel Has A Good Day (G, Eskel & Wolf Witchers, 9.3k) by @gods-no-longer-tread-here, art by @phoenixandjacob

The Wolves (and bard) of Kaer Morhen go on a vacation to the coast, and have a good day. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Tu Me Manques. (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 8k) by @etcorsolus, art by @cvbeebop

In which, Eskel meets a bard who calms him. Body, mind, and soul. Story title is how the French say 'I miss you.' The more literal translation is 'You are missing from me.' Fic || Art

Little Red (M, Eskel/Lambert, 6.1k) by @miahclone, art by @llwynbleidd

Eskel helps Lambert while he's recovering from a serious injury. To distract him from the pain, Eskel tells stories of past hunts. Fic || Art

Constellations (M, Eskel/Geralt, 7.2k) by @dredshirtroberts, art by @dat-carovieh

Eskel loves Geralt but their soulmarks don't match - he'd know. They're witchers, and scars are their business. As he joins Geralt in retirement, Eskel figures whatever he can get with the other witcher will be enough. He might get a little bit more than he thought he was bargaining for, but Eskel's never passed up a good deal. Fic || Art (1) (2)

Trial By Fire (Eskel and Aza's Wild Ride) (E, Eskel/OFC, 11k) by @janzoo, art by @liaonyxrayne

When Eskel rescues his succubus acquaintance from witch hunters, their reunion becomes something more as they're drawn into the hunters' plot. What can they do against a twisted idealist and the danger he presents to witchers and non-humans? Fic || Art

Pardon Me While I Burst Into Flames (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 29k) by @ghostinthelibrarywrites, art by @wolfgeralt

When Eskel is hired to kill an incubus who ruined a noble wedding, he finds that his target is far from a bloodthirsty beast, a too-pretty court bard. Eskel spares Jaskier and they go their separate ways, with Eskel expecting never to see the incubus again. But Jaskier has other ideas. Fic || Art

I Could Eat the World Raw (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 7k) by @buttercupsanddandelions, art by @gods-no-longer-tread-here

“This is Eskel.” He pushes him slightly forward, “And he just had his conduit moment.” After becoming a mage, Eskel finds that he's been soul-bound to a little lordling. Fic || Art

Something we bury (M, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @heartoferebor, art by @craftgamerzz

“Where’s Eskel?” Ciri asks Geralt, frowning a little. “He went out to do more hunting and gather some potion ingredients. Should be back any moment,” Geralt reassures her. “Ah. Good.” She hesitates a little before deciding to forge right ahead with her next question. She’s asked everyone else in the keep, of course she’ll have to ask Geralt, too. “About his scars…” * Ciri wants to know where Eskel's scars came from, so she decides to ask everyone at the keep about them. Except, they all seem to have different stories... Fic || Art

Lord What Fools These Witchers Be (T, Aiden/Eskel, 21k) by @jayofolympus and @frenchkey, art by aviixrc

When Lambert brings Aiden to winter with him in Kaer Morhen, Eskel is catapulted straight into his own personal hell. It would be easier if he didn’t like the Cat. Instead, he finds himself falling head over heels for his brother’s boyfriend and trying to hide it from a pack of nosy Witchers. If only Aiden would stop flirting with him... Fic || Art (1) (2)

A Moment of Comfort (M, Eskel/OC) by @merpancake

An attack at a brothel begins with blood and carnage, but Eskel finds an unexpected peace in the arms of Cenna. As their paths continue to cross, Eskel carries that same peace within him on his journey through monsters and men. Art

Toussaint's Finest (M, Eskel/Geralt, 9.1k) by @kate-river, art by @justhereforeskel

Eskel is still roaming the Continent. But in recent years the Path has become harder and harder. Eskel has made it a habit to come by Corvo Bianco around vintage and this year's events might change a few things in his life forever. Fic || Art

Beneath the Shadow and the Soul (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 32k) by @vix-spes, art by @buffskierights

Eskel had the strange feeling that everything was going to change when he passed through Dol Blathanna one year on his way back to Kaer Morhen for winter. He had been passing through a town and, instead of running away from him, someone had exclaimed “You’re a Witcher,” and proceeded to sing at him. He just hadn't realised how much of an impact it would have on him. Fic || Art

Daughter of Fire (T, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 4.9k) by @kittynannygaming, art by @zmezagain

Witchers are sterile, that's a fact. No female human can bear their child. Well, the keyword here is 'human' and a succubus is very not human. And Eskel now has a sweet 7 years old daughter. Fic || Art

Break It Recklessly (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 22k) by @anonymousblueberry, art by @nol-nol

From teenage tearaways to successful adults, Geralt and Eskel have always been inseparable. To the extent that when Geralt accepts a wedding invite with Eskel as his plus one, there’s the assumption that they have finally sorted their shit out and got together, forcing them to keep up the facade or cause chaos for the happy couple. What follows is a crash course in emotions, dating, and working out that love can burn long and slow for a very long time. Fic || Art

The Question (M, Eskel/Istredd, 40k) by @eskelchopchop, art by @stars-in-my-damn-eyes

Eskel's in Ohio when Yennefer calls. He’s reluctant to pick up; he’s still not over Geralt, and he's got zero desire to chat with Geralt's new lover. Turns out Yen isn’t his lover anymore, and this isn’t about Geralt. It’s about witcher’s work. Yennefer owns Portal, one of New York City's most popular gay clubs. A Post-Conjunction Entity (PCE) is hunting her clientele, leaving a string of withered corpses in its wake. The police are doing jackshit. Will Eskel come back to a city full of bad memories and take a job off the books to stop it? He'll sure as hell try. Along the way, he’ll cross paths with Istredd, a man with sorcerer’s eyes and a painful past of his own. If Eskel doesn't work fast enough, they both might become the PCE's next victims. Fic || Art

Is It Cold In The Water? (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 12k) by @jennyloggins, art by @jerry-of-rivia

His horse is tied to a branch a few trees out, and that’s where Eskel heads to grab his water skein, taking a deep drink and soothe his dry throat. Patting his horse’s backside affectionately on his way past her, Eskel feigns a stern voice to say, “Zuzanna, keep watch for me.” Her tail twitches as if to swat him away. Fic || Art

Everything I Want (I Can Find in You) by @eyesofshinigami, art by @phoenixandjacob

Eskel didn't think he'd ever see Jaskier again, sure the Cat witcher was only looking for a night of fun. But then he keeps showing up, taking Eskel to bed and leaving him little presents. It takes Eskel a bit, but eventually he realizes that maybe, just maybe, Jaskier means it when he says he wants to keep him. Or Eskel doesn't think he deserves nice things and Jaskier is determined to show him otherwise. Fic || Art

One Stop Shop; Tattoo's Piercings, And Love (M, Eskel/Jaskier/Lambert, 7.4k) by @jesheckah, art by @moondrunkart

When Eskel fumbles an invitation at a party to come into his tattoo shop, Jaskier and he move towards an explosive love. How many tattoo sessions does it take for the heart to know what it wants? Fic || Art

Entanglement (and other words for a mess) (E, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 31k) by @violaceum-vitellina-viridis, art by @merpancake

Eskel has a hundred marks on his body, but a soulmark isn't one of them. Fic || Art

Beneath Each Other's Bones (E, Eskel/Geralt, 7.6k) by @pressedinthepages, art by @drachedraws

Winter at Kaer Morhen can be brutal. But Eskel and Geralt find warmth in each other in an effort to stave off the cold. Fic || Art (1) (2)

#9fe2bf on the Shore (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 4.5k) by @buffskierights, art by @phoenixandjacob

The sea roars with a vengeance, something angering the waves even as the stars shine brightly overhead in the clear night sky. If Eskel were a poet he’d say it almost sounded like a wail of mourning, the way the whitewater crashes upon the night black sand and the gathering foam, the sea frothing furiously. But Eskel’s always hated his poetry lessons so being a poet is firmly off the table. Fic || Art

lion in the wolf's den (T, Coen/Eskel, 5k) by @patchwork-doublet, art by @justhereforeskel

eskel is nervous being around ciri, afraid things will go south like they did last time. Fic || Art

Sugar Baby Blues (E, Eskel/Jaskier, 24k) by adevinecomedy, art by @pastelrune

Jaskier’s mind slipped back to a night several months ago when he was all worked up but had nowhere to go and a mountain of school work to get through. How it was just so much easier to log onto a camming website and watch someone perform seemingly just for him. The gorgeous, confident man on the other side of the screen had been so accommodating, even though Jaskier had been shy and hadn’t typed much into the chat. Modern au where Eskel is a Cam boy and runs into a bit of a financial bind. Enter Jaskier who just might be the answer to all his woes. Fic || Art

Winter Comfort (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 10k) by @myidlehand, art by @liaonyxrayne

Jaskier comes to Kaer Morhen to spend some time with Eskel, after briefly meeting him in the fall. And while both of them seem delighted to see each other again, Eskel starts to shy away from Jaskier's comments and flirting. It doesn't take a genius to see Eskel is having body image issue. Jaskier aims to help him through it. Fic || Art

The Subtle Knife (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 26k) by @major-trouble, art by @cylin-aka-ankamo

There's an assassin haunting the Continent. No one knows their name, everyone - that is, everyone in the know - calls them The Specter. If you want a rival out of the way, a political opponent disposed of, or a strategic target taken out, contacting The Specter gets the job done. For a price, of course. There's an art to subtlety, after all, and it wouldn't do to risk the attention of law enforcement. So there's no obvious cause, no knife to the back, and the deaths aren't usually remarked upon. The Kaer Morhen Agency, however, has noticed. One of their agents has been hired to protect potential victims, people scared that they've been targeted. And they have reason to worry. When Eskel's first assignment winds up dead of no discernible cause, it starts him on a search for the elusive Specter, hoping against hope to track down the assassin before they're hired again. Setting a trap for a ghost is something Witchers are used to. Setting one for a trained killer may prove beyond them. Fic || Art

No Funny Business (M, Eskel/Jaskier, 11k) by goldendaydreams, art by @nanero11

Eskel had long given up on finding his soulmate, his soulmark nothing but scar tissue from a house fire he’d survived as a child. Knowing that most people wait for their perfect someone, their destiny, didn’t stop him from falling in love with Jaskier, the nurse he met after a hunt gone wrong. Fic || Art

Stronger Than My Storm (E, Eskel/Geralt) by @rawrkinjd, art by @nol-nol

Eskel and Geralt were friends from the very beginning. They added the benefits later. It was another way to offer comfort and companionship when the rest of the world closed in around them, and Eskel was content with it for years. Until he wakes up one day and realises it’s become something more. He touches Geralt’s silver hair, wreathed in a halo of yellow sunlight, and allows himself to feel the cracks spreading through his heart. Witchers can’t love each other. It would only lead to suffering. Eskel realises he must weather the storm inside or let Geralt go forever. Fic || Art

Full of Life (T, Eskel/Jaskier, 6.3k) by @sternenstaub28, art by @llwynbleidd

When Eskel gets hired to solve the case of people disappearing in town, she didn’t know she’d find a friend and maybe even something more. or Beauty and strength don't necessarily make your life easier, a companion and love however do. Fic || Art

choices are the hinges of destiny (T, Eskel/Geralt, 7.5k) by @lutes-and-dandelions, art by @cassandrasartworld

After rescuing a fae from the clutches of death, they repay Eskel by helping him make a choice. -oOo- A story about what would have happened if Eskel had claimed his child of surprise. Fic || Art

Eskel Vs The Continent (And His Feelings) (M, No Pairing, 47k) by @chibitabathasloves, art by @zmezagain

Eskel decides he needs to leave Kaer Morhen after the fight with the Hunt. Where will it take him? And will he be able to face his feelings he desperately tries to ignore. Fic || Art

lookin' to the sky to save me (T, Eskel/Geralt, 10k) by @torynickles, art by @trissmarrygoals

Geralt slides his hand from Eskel’s shoulder to his back. And then. Then he keeps moving it, outwards, away from Eskel’s torso, where there should be nothing but air, but— “What the fuck?” he chokes, because he can still feel Geralt’s hand, sensation where there should be none. He shakes his head wildly, twisting his arm to reach for his own back. His fingers connect to something, but—it’s not his body, it can’t be his body, even though he can feel himself touching it. Because he’s made up of skin and flesh, bone and muscle, and this thing has all of those, but— It’s covered in sticky, damp feathers. Fic || Art

A Fine Night at the Faire (M, Eskel/Geralt/Jaskier, 12k) by Elensule, art by @liaonyxrayne

Eskel has been hurt by the world and hides for refuge in his little goat farm. He's found no reason to look for love, or much of anything else. But encouragement from his brother sends him to an unfamiliar locale; the renfaire! Maybe stepping out of his comfort zone was just what he needed. Fic || Art

[archived-kin]

caught in a twin courtship

note from kin: i’m going to be honest i only really wrote this because the title is fun to say, so it isn’t as cohesive as i normally would have wanted to make it

(this is an au where the twins aren’t separated by the unknown god! instead, just their world-hopping powers were stolen, and that’s why they’re journeying to find said god - to get their powers back so that they can go home. i’ve also excluded paimon since i kind of forgot about her while writing this haha)

(this doesn’t follow canon at all since reader and the twins just kind of start wandering about after the dvalin incident rather than heading straight for liyue oops)

fandom: genshin impact

character(s): gn!reader, lumine, aether, diluc, venti, jean

pairing(s): aether/reader/lumine

warning(s): i don’t think so??

genre: fluff with a little bit sprinkling of angst

you first meet the twins in the aftermath of the stormterror battle. it isn’t a glamorous introduction by any means - it’s pretty unflattering, actually - but it definitely makes a powerful first impression.

the group - aether, lumine, venti, diluc, and jean - are on their way back to mondstadt city, making small talk here and there, but mostly just walking in silence.

then they hear a yell in the distance.

jean and lumine both drop into a battle stances, venti leaps to hide behind aether with a very unmanly squeak of fear… but diluc, who arguably should have been the most alerted by this occurrence, just gives a resigned sigh and pauses.

a split second later, a figure comes speeding up to the group. you barrel up to diluc and immediately punch him square in the stomach, yelling “why didn’t you tell me you were going after stormterror?!”

aether and venti both give matching gasps of horror at the blatant disrespect, but diluc only shakes his head and catches your fist as it goes for another blow, this one aimed at his chest, and chastises, “calm down, i left a note.”

“i left a note,” you mimic, an absolutely awful impression that has you sounding more like a mosquito than the darknight hero, “fat lot of use that is when you aren’t even telling me where you’re going!”

diluc evades another jab at his arm and firmly sets his hands on both your shoulders, effectively anchoring you to the ground. you contemplate swinging your feet at his knees and knocking him over, or maybe shocking him with your electro vision, but ultimately decide that you might as well try to preserve what little dignity you have left in front of those three people you’ve never met before

so you stop with a defeated sigh and turn to face said three people to introduce yourself

it turns out that you’re diluc’s cousin and he’s been having to baby-sit you for the last few years after your own parents left on a ‘business trip’ to snezhnaya that they’re still not back from

you’re pretty sure they’re dead, killed by the fatui, and you say as much during your introduction without even the slightest sign of distress, which is a little unsettling

lumine’s first thought is that you’re quite the interesting character, what with the casual way you treat diluc, and how you don’t seem to question whatever situation lead you to meet in the first place

aether’s first thought is holy shit, they’re cute

one twin greets you in return with a lot more enthusiasm than the other, and venti the bard wastes no time in asking whether you have access to good master diluc’s wine storage

(you’d be shocked by the audacity if you weren’t just as bad as him when it came to shamelessness)

strangely enough, the fact that aether likes you so much actually makes lumine more wary of you than she was initially

aether trusts too easily, and from experience, that usually leads to disaster - and your flippancy regarding your parents’ apparent probable deaths rather inclines her to think that you might be a very dangerous person indeed

the three of you don’t see each other for a couple of days after that - you and diluc leave for dawn winery together, while the twins depart with venti to wrap their whole situation up, and jean returns to her duties in mondstadt city

all this time, apparently unbeknownst to even himself, aether keeps finding ways to bring you up in the middle of conversation

you’d only spoken to him for a few minutes and somehow that as enough to get him absolutely fascinated

lumine would be lying if she said she wasn’t still curious about you as well, but it gets annoying after aether somehow manages to mention how ‘mysterious’ your black cloak is in the middle of a conversation about why mitachurls are able to randomly set their axes on fire

luckily for these two, they happen to run into you the very next day!

you’re in the middle of taking out a ruin guard stomping around the thousand winds temple -  a ruin guard that the twins had been meaning to take down themselves, which is why they’re here in the first place

at first they move to help you, only to stop short and watch in awe as you plunge down at the ruin guard from atop one of the enormous pillars, your polearm held steady in your grasp as your entire body seems to spark and glow with a deep purple electro energy

the sharp blade of your polearm goes clean through the top of the ruin guard’s head and shatters its core, and it sinks to the ground with a massive thud that echoes around the temple ruins, massive wooden limbs twitching and jerking as the last of your vision’s energy disperses from it

aether and lumine are basically star-struck

from there you spot them and call them over for a conversation, show them how to take apart a ruin guard’s circuits to get at the good parts, and somehow end up agreeing to journey with them across teyvat in their search for an unknown god who stole their abilities to hop from world to world as well as their apparent true power that allows them to wield all seven elements at once

the details are a little lost on you, but what you’re hearing is that you get to go on a cool adventure with a cool gal and a cool lad, so you’re pretty much all for it

diluc isn’t too happy about you up and leaving without so much as two week’s notice (partially because he has literally no friends apart from you and he’d get lonely without his little cousin bothering him all the time) but you simply tell him to deal with it and go anyway

(you do give him a big hug and promise to visit, you’re not heartless)

from then on you, aether and lumine become a dynamic trio like no other

it’s actually pretty damn spooky how well the three of you end of working together

aether and lumine had long since formed a style of fighting that meant they made up for each other’s weak spots and could attack in perfect sync, but then you come along and somehow manage to make their already pretty flawless formation even better

is it witchcraft? they honestly don’t know

considering you fit so well into their battle strategies, it follows that you’d also slot perfectly into their every day life

lumine is cautious at first, wondering if your presence would disrupt her and her brother’s long since pre-established routines, but you fit in so naturally that it’s as if you were there all long

maybe it it’s this that makes both twins slowly start falling for you - the comfort of being beside you and the familiarity that you bring are things that they struggled to find, being trapped in a world far from their own with no way to get out, and they unknowingly latch onto you like drowning men clutching lifebuoys

aether is the most obvious about his feelings - he starts waking up earlier just because he knows you do, sitting beside you as you stoke a campfire and keep watch for any approaching monsters, making quiet conversation as lumine continues sleeping. he tells you stories about his adventures in other worlds, including an encounter with a rather bigoted individual who is the reason that he keeps his hair so long while lumine’s has been cut short

he even starts taking his hair out of its braid before he goes to sleep so that he can ask you to braid it for him when he wakes up

lumine is a lot more subtle

she finds excuses to stand closer to you when, deliberately brushing her fingers against yours when handing you something. she listens far more attentively to you when you speak than anyone else, and she smiles far more in your presence, hanging onto your every word and gazing at you so intensely that it’s almost unsettling

of course, the twins notice each other’s feelings pretty easily

at first neither acknowledges it - it’d be far too messy for both to accept that they’d both fallen in love with the same person, let alone actually admit this to each other

but it gets to the point where it just isn’t ignorable anymore, and finally the twins decide to talk

it’s about as civil and sensible as they could hope for with the subject at hand, and they eventually decide to talk to you about it

and so, we come to an ultimatum. what will your choice be?

if you reject both, it’ll be hard to continue adventuring with twins who can’t look in your direction. neither resent you, of course, but the atmosphere has become so stifling that they can’t even make eye contact

it’s as if an enormous gap has opened up between the three of you. the twins are avoiding each other as well, unsure of how to handle the fact that they’re both in love with the same person and have now both been rejected by that same person. if anything, they should be becoming closer out of solidarity, but it seems that they can’t stand to be in each other’s presence as much as they can’t stand to be in yours.

the three of you still work together as seamlessly in battle as you did before, but once the final monster has been cut down and your weapons are sheathed, that connection seems to disappear again.

it’s aether who finally breaks the stalemate. he starts trying to start conversations as the three of you sit awkwardly apart from each other around a fire, and while the first few attempts end in stony silence and an awkward cough on his part, eventually you begin replying with some semblance of the humour you used to

from there things only improve - the three of you come to a silent mutual agreement to leave this behind you, and soon you’re all laughing and joking as you used to

lumine and aether both know that they cannot force you to love either of them, and they respect your choice. if anything, they’re the ones in the wrong for springing something like this on you so suddenly, and they start to feel a little guilty that they were essentially pressuring you into making a choice that you were never obligated to make

so they return to treating you as a dear friend, just as before. things are different now, of course, but they can only be grateful that you continue to travel with them and stay by their side; this situation doesn’t make them love you any less, even if you don’t love them in the same way.

if you choose lumine, aether will be understanding. the twins have been each other’s only support for longer than they can remember, and as the older brother, he’s well used to giving things up for his sister.

he’ll still be friendly and amicable, but he won’t seek you out as much as he did before. he starts braiding his hair by himself again, and stays in bed as late as he can every morning so that he doesn’t have to be face to face with you. just because he’s accepted this doesn’t mean that it doesn’t hurt.

sometimes, when the sky grows dark and you and lumine have long since fallen asleep beside each other, he wonders to himself - why is it that he has to give everything to his sister? he’s given away so much, so why couldn’t the universe let him have this one thing?

but he knows, deep down, that this is nothing to do with the universe - you simply fell in love with someone that wasn’t him, his sister at that, and he’s struggling to come to terms with it.

he wants to hate you, hate lumine, hate the relationship that the two of you have formed, but he just can’t. he loves the both of you in different ways that are just as important as each other, and he can’t stand to lose either of you. he’d rather throw himself off of starsnatch cliff.

so he’ll smile and bear it, even if it’s a battle to keep himself from breaking down every time he sees the two of you lace your hands together, off in your own little word, so near and yet so far from him.

if you choose aether, lumine will become cold. at first, that is. she’s never been as empathetic as her brother, always holding grudges and developing dislike much more easily. it had taken a lot for her to open up to you in the first place, and now that you’ve rejected her, it’s going to take a while for her to return to the same camaderie with you that she had before.

lumine does not begrudge aether for being the one you chose. if anything, she’s glad - aether is always putting her first and himself second, and she’s happy that he has someone like you, who lights his eyes up in a way that she’s never seen before.

but our hearts often betray our mind, after all, and lumine can’t help but scowl and turn away every time she sees her brother wrap his arms around your waist or press a kiss to your cheek. despite her best efforts, all she can think is why? why did you have to choose him?

she can’t bring herself to hate you, though. as much as it feels like her heart is threatening to split down the middle when she sees you smile and is reminded of something that she cannot have, there is an equal joy in the fact that her brother can be with the person that he loves so dearly. if anything, the two of you deserve to be happy together.

lumine would never do anything that could take that away, and so she forces herself to accept it. it takes several days of tentative conversation and barely held back tears, but eventually the two of you seem to return to the way you were before - all friendly jabs and light-hearted banter and little jokes exchanged over crossed blades.

but lumine knows that your friendship can never be quite the same as it was before. she’ll forever be holding you at arm’s length, terrified to let you get too close lest you see how much your presence affects her. she can’t let you know how much she loves you because she will never be the one who links hands with you as you walk down a long, winding path, or the one who holds you close under a darkening sky filled with stars - because that person is aether, and she would sooner die before she takes her brother’s happiness away.

if you refuse to choose, the twins will be at a loss at what to do. they hadn’t considered this scenario - that you had somehow come to love both of them.

the confusion becomes joy soon enough, though. they realise what this means - they both love you, and you love both of them! isn’t this perfect?

neither are particularly thrilled at the concept of ‘sharing’ you with the other, so to speak, but in the end they both equally want each other to be happy as they want you to be, so the logical conclusion is that they both become your partners.

they’re not too sure how this should work, nor what sort of label to put on it, but they come to you tentatively with the idea anyway

to their joyous surprise, you agree!

and from then marks the point of no return…

aether is definitely the clingier of the two. once he realises that he’s allowed to show affection and be close to you for no particular reason, he won’t stop - it’s as if he absolutely has to be holding your hand or be standing or sitting  as close to you as physically possible. he’s always buying you souvenirs at every place you stop by, scaling trees to pick apples for you when you mention a craving for fruit, presenting you little treasures that he’s found with all the pride of a golden retriever.

lumine is a more subdued kind of partner, preferring to demonstrate her feelings with little things like making your favourite food for dinner or bringing you sprigs of flowers that she’s secretly been collecting in order to present you with them. of course, that doesn’t mean she isn’t physically affectionate at all - she presses perhaps even closer to you than aether when you sleep beside her, and somehow her hand finds yours at every opportunity she has.

the twins clash every now and then, as siblings often do, except that you’re usually caught in the middle. their arguments are little more than playful squabbles, though - things like play-fighting over who gets to hug you first after a well-fought battle, or who gets to hold your hand on the way to the next village (you have to step in and remind them that you do, in fact, have two hands)

in conclusion: why choose one when you can have both and prevent the unchosen from having endless amounts of angst?

[thedeadhandofseldon]

The Anti-Mercer Effect

On the Accessibility of D&D, Why Unprepared Casters is so Fun, and Why Haley Whipjack is possibly the greatest DM of our generation.

(Apologies to my mutuals who aren’t in this fandom for the length of this, but as you all know I have never in my life shut up about anything so… we’ll call it even for the number of posts about Destiel I see every day.

To fellow UC fans - I haven’t listened to arc 4 yet, I started drafting this in early August, and I promise I will write a nice post about how great Gus the Bard is once I get the chance to listen to more of his DMing).

Structure - Or, “This is not the finale, there will be more podding cast”

So, first of all, let’s just talk about how Unprepared Casters works. Because it’s kind of unusual! Most of the other big-name D&D podcasts favor this long, grand arcs; UC has about 10 hours of podcast per each arc. And that’s a major strength in a lot of ways: it makes it really accessible to new listeners, because you can just start with the current arc and understand what’s going on!

And by starting new arcs every six or seven episodes, they can explore lots of ways to play D&D! Classic dungeon delve arc! Heist arc! Epic heroes save the world arc! Sportsball arc! They can touch on all sorts of things!

And while I’m talking about that: Dragons in Dungeons, the first arc, makes it incredibly accessible as a show - because it lets the unfamiliar listener get a sense of what D&D actually is. (It’s about telling stories and making your friends feel heroic and laugh and cry, for the record). If I had to pick a way to introduce someone to the game without actually playing it with them, that arc would definitely be it.

And I’d be remise not to note one very important thing: Haley Whipjack and Gus the Bard are just very funny, very charismatic people. Look. Episode 0s tend to be about 50%(?) those two just talking to each other about their own podcast. It shouldn’t work. And yet it DOES, its one of my favorite parts, because Haley and Gus are just cool.

And a side note that doesn’t fit anywhere else: I throw my soul at him! I throw a scone at him - that’s it, that’s the vibe. The whole podcast alternates between laughing with your friends and brooding alone in a dark tavern corner - but the laughs never forced and the dark corner is never too dark for too long.

Whipjack the Great - Or, the DM is Also a Player!

I think Haley Whipjack is one of the greatest Dungeon Masters alive. The plots and characters! The mechanical shenanigans! The descriptions!

Actually, let’s start there: with the descriptions. (Both Haley and Gus do this really fucking well). As we know, Episode 0 of each arc sees the DM reading a description - of a small town, or the Up North, or the recent history of a great party. And Haley always strikes this tricky balance - one I think a lot of us who DM struggle with - between giving too much description and  worldbuilding, and not telling us anything at all. She describes people and events in just enough detail to imagine them, but never so much they seem static and unreal - just clear enough to envision, but with enough vagueness left to let your imagination begin to run wild.

While I’m thinking about arc 3’s party, let’s talk about a really bold move she made in that arc: letting the players have ongoing control of their history. Loser Lars! She didn’t try to spell out every detail of this high-level party’s history, or restrict their past to only what she decided to allow - she gave them the broad outlines, and let them embellish it. And that made for a much more alive story than any attempt to create it by herself would have - but I think it takes a lot of courage to let your players have that agency. Most Dungeon Masters (myself included) tend to struggle with being control freaks.

And the plots! Yeah, arc one is built of classic tropes - but she actually uses them, she doesn’t get caught up in subverting everything or laughing at the cliches. And it’s fun! In arc 3, there really isn’t a straight line for the players to follow, either - which makes the game much more interesting and much trickier to run. And her NPCs are fantastic and I will talk about them in the next section.

Above all, though, I think what is really impressive is how Haley balances mechanics, and rules as written, with the narrative and rule of cool - and puts both rules and story in the service of playing a fun game. And the secret to that? She’s the DM, but the DM is a player, and the DM is clearly having fun. Hope Lovejoy mechanically shouldn’t get that spellslot back, but she does, and it’s fun. The changeling merchant in Thymore doesn’t really make some Grand Artistic Narrative better, but wow is it fun. And she never tries to force it one way or the other - the story might be more dramatic if Annie didn’t manage to banish the demon from the vault, but it’s a lot cooler and a lot more fun for the players if Annie gets to be a badass instead - and the rules and the dice say that Annie managed it.

Settings feel like places, NPCs feel like people, and the narrative plot feels like a real villainous plot.

Anyway. I could go on about the various ways in which Whipjack is awesome for quite a while - she’s right, first place in D&D is when your friends laugh and super first place is when they cry - but I’m going to stop here and just. Make another post about it some other time. For now, for the record I hold her opinions about the game in higher esteem than I do several official sourcebooks; that is all.

Characters - Or, Bombyx Mori Is Not an Asshole, And That Matters

Okay, I said I would talk about characters! And I will!

Just a general place to start: the party! All of the first three parties are interesting to me, because they all care about each other. Not even necessarily in a Found Family Trope sort of way, though often that too. But they generally aren’t assholes to each other. The players create characters that actually work together, that are interesting; even when there’s internal divisions like SK-73 v. Sir Mr. Person, they aren’t just unpleasant and antagonistic all the time. Listening to the podcast, we’re “with” these people for a couple hours - and it isn’t unpleasant. That matters a lot. (To take a counter-example: I love Critical Role, but the episode when Vox Machina pranked Scanlan after he died and was resurrected wasn’t fun to listen to, it was just uncomfortable and angering and vaguely cruel).

All of the PCs are amazing, and the players in each arc did a great job. If you disagree with me about that, well, you have the right to be incorrect and I am sorry for your loss. Annie Wintersummer, for one example: tragic and sad and I want to give her a hug, but also Fuck Yeah Wintersummer, and also her familiar Charles the Owl is the cutest and funniest and I love him. And we understand what’s going on with Annie, she isn’t some infinite pool of hidden depths because this arc is 7 episodes and we don’t have time for that, but she also has enough complexity to be interesting. Same with Fey Moss: yeah, a lot of her is a silly pun about fame that carries into how she behaves, but a lot of how she behaves is also down to some good classic half-elven angst about parenthood and wanting to be known and seen and important. (Side note: if your half-elf character doesn’t have angst, well, that’s impressive and also I don’t think I believe you).

There are multiple lesbian cat-people in a 4-person party and they both have requited romantic interests who aren’t each other. This is the future liberals want and I am glad for it.

Sir Mister Person, the human fighter! Thavius, the edge lord! Even when a character is “simple,” they’re interesting, because of how they’re played as people and not action-figures. And that matters a lot.

In the same way: the NPCs. There really aren’t a lot of them! And some of them come from Patreon submissions, so uh good work gang, you’re part of the awesomeness and I’m proud of you! The point being, the NPCs work because enough of them are interesting to matter. It’s not just a servant who opens Count Michael’s door, it’s a character with a name (Oleandra!) and a personality and history. They’re interesting. Penny Lovejoy didn’t need to be interesting, the merchant outside the Laughing Mausoleum didn’t need to be interesting, but they ARE! And Haley and Gus EXCEL at making the NPCs matter, not just to the story but to us as viewers. I agree with Sir Mister Person, actually, I would die for the princesses of the kingdom. I actually care about Gem Lovejoy of all people - that wouldn’t happen in an ordinary campaign! That’s the thing that makes Unprepared Casters spectacular - and, frankly, it’s especially impressive because D&D does not tend to be good at making a lot of interesting compared to a lot of other sorts of stories.

And, just as an exemplar of all this: Bombyx Mori. Immortal, reincarnating(?), and described as the incarnation of the player’s ADHD. I expected to hate Bombyx, because as the mom friend both in and out of my friend-group’s campaigns, the chaos-causer is always exhausting to me. And yeah, Bombyx causes problems on purpose! But! She is not an asshole.

And that’s important. Bombyx goes and sits with the queen and comforts her. Bombyx gives Annie emotional support. Bombyx isn’t just a vehicle to jerk around the DM and other players; Bombyx really is a character we can care about. To compare with another case - in the first couple episodes of The Adventure Zone, the PCs are just dicks. Funny, but dicks. Bombyx holds out an arm “covered in larva” to shake with a count, and robs him of magical items, but she also cares about her friends and other people! She uses a powerful magical gem to save her fertilizer guy from death! Yeah, Bombyx is ridiculous, but she’s not just an asshole the party has to keep around for plot reasons; you can see why her party would keep her around. And one layer of meta up, she’s the perfect example of how to make a chaotic character like that while still being fun for everyone you’re playing with, which is often not the case. And I love her.

The Anti-Mercer Effect - Or, “I think we proved it can be fun, you can have a good time with your friends. And it doesn’t have to be scary, you can just work with what you know”

The Mercer Effect basically constitutes this: Matthew Mercer, Dungeon Master of Critical Role, is incredible (as are all of his players). They’re all professional story-tellers in a way, remember, and so Critical Role treats D&D like a narrative art-form, and it’s inspiring. Seeing that on Critical Role sets impossible standards - and people go into their own home games imagining that their campaigns will be like Critical Role, and the burden of that expectation tends to fall disproportionately on the DM. And the end result, I think, of the Mercer Effect is that we get discouraged or intimidated, because our game isn’t “as good as” theirs. (And I should note - Matt certainly doesn’t want that to be our reaction).

So the Anti-Mercer Effect is two things: it’s D&D treated like a game, and it’s inspiring but not intimidating. And Unprepared Casters manages both of those really freaking well. Because they play it like a game! A UC arc looks just like a good campaign in anyone’s home game. They have the vibes of 20-somethings and college students playing D&D for fun because that’s who they are (as a 20-something college student who plays a lot of D&D, watching it felt like watching my friends play an especially good campaign). They’re trying to tell a good story, sure, and they always do. But first and foremost, they’re trying to have fun, and it shows, and I love the UC cast for it.

And that’s the other half of it: it’s inspiring! It’s approachable; you can see that Haley and Gus put plenty of work into preparing the game but it also doesn’t make you feel like you need hundreds of pages of worldbuilding to run a game. Sometimes a cleric makes Haley cry and she gives them back a spell-slot from their deity! That’s fantastic! It’s just inspiring - listening to this over the summer, when my last campaign had fallen apart under the strain of graduation, is why I decided to plan and run my new one!

That quote from Haley Whipjack that I used as the title for this section? That’s the whole core of this idea, and really, I think, the core of the podcast.

The Mercer Effect is when you go “that’s really cool, I could never do that.” But Unprepared Casters makes you look at D&D and go “wow, that looks really fun. I bet I can do that!” And I love the show for it.

And I bet a lot of you do too.

[hanyaksha]

「call you mine」 xiao x f!reader 18+

genre: smut

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+ ONLY !

includes: fingering, creampie, top xiao/dom!xiao, wet and messy

summary: it takes a lot to catch the attention of an adepti - especially Xiao. Although still confused by the unfamilliar feeling, he's got his eyes on her around Liyue or Wangshu Inn.

'There she goes again', Xiao thought as he saw you strutting just outside Wangshu Inn, bowing repeatedly to say your apologies to the person you accidentally bumped into. You were running and seemed to be in a hurry when suddenly this man blocked the road you were speeding in, causing you and him to clash. Xiao doesn't normally care about mortal lives, it just so happened that whenever he decided to rest outside the terrace of Wangshu Inn you would always be somewhere outside catching his attention. You're either running around in a hurry or working your ass off trying to make a living by selling sweets and delicacies that somehow became the favorite place for kids around town to visit.

'how clumsy. human lives really are fragile.' he unconsciously thought to himself as he continues to watch from a distance. He saw how you laughed it off with the man you accidentally bumped, how it was easy for you to smile and radiate a warm aura. In his eyes you looked pure. Xiao compared himself to you and scowled at the thought that he could never be someone like you. He feels his chest tighten as he gets reminded of his own demons, his past and all of those who he slaughtered with his own hands, the bloodbath forever painted in his memory. Frowning, he sighed and decided to shrug the ugly feeling off. His eyes wandered around, unconsciously trying to look for your familiar aura only to find you gone from the last spot he saw you standing. With nothing else to do, he kept searching until he caught a glimpse of you from a distance near Dihua Marsh, gliding around with Venti as he creates wind currents for both of you to fly on.

'ah, the bard' he thought. You two were having fun and he can tell you're enjoying yourself just by the look of how you laughed. Xiao felt calm watching you simply being you. Even if it's from a distance, a part of him craved for that warmth somewhere close to him. He wondered what it would feel if someone like you would share that to someone as tainted as him. Xiao glowered when he realized that he was longing for a human. He stopped himself from thinking any more than that. There was no need for you to be involved with the likes of him, it would only make him feel worse knowing that he would be of no good to you. He didn't want your pure glow and warmth to fade away because of him. Xiao sighed and decided to walk back in the inn where he would rather rest to keep your memory out of his head. He had known you for quite sometime now, despite it being from a distance it was surprising that he felt like he had met you. It wasn't difficult for him to somehow feel comfortable seeing your presence outside the Inn. He loved the way your clothes would flow against your body, how your skin looks soft under the sunlit sky. You looked ethereal, he simply adores that and is unknowingly thirsty to get a taste of your gentle touch. Despite refusing to involve himself to mortals he still grew a liking to you, making you an exception. He convinced himself that he doesn't have any time to meddle with a human's life yet his thoughts and actions contradicts this. He feels like he's about to lose his mind as scenarios of you and him fill it up. Xiao leaned back to his chair, throwing his head back as he massages the bridge of his nose. He looked like he couldn't bear to think more of you or he'll go insane. It wasn't enough to just simply think of you - he wanted your presence, he wanted it near and he wanted it now.

Xiao growled and glared at the wall. Standing up, he went out of the Inn. He decided to just come get you himself. He realized how long he was lost in his thoughts when he noticed the moonlight outside. He didn't mind it and just continued to venture out in search of your familiar scent and aura, hoping he'll catch a glimpse of you somewhere near. It didn't take long until he saw you close on a cliff just outside the parameters of the Inn, desperately trying to reach out to the violetgrass you were trying to harvest. Xiao stayed hidden in the branches of a tall tree, hesitating and rethinking his actions because he was unsure of how to interact with you. He was worried he would just scare you away since he was, after all, a vigilant yaksha adeptus. He noticed you struggling to take a hold of the particular flower so he decided to take matters in his own hands and to just help you with it. Xiao leaped and swiftly took it as he landed beside you to hand it over. Surprised by how fast everything went by, you stared at the man in front of you, his golden honey eyes glimmered from the soft light of the full moon added by the glow of the Wangshu Inn from a distance made everything perfect. He was breathtaking, you felt your heart pounding as you reached out to take the flower from his hand. You knew who he was, mainly because you would often hang out with Venti to ask about him. There was something about this adepti that made you want to learn more about who he was. People in Liyue says that he rarely shows himself, even during the Lantern Rite Festival you find yourself hoping for him to come out. And now lo and behold, he's right in front of you - the man you have always hoped to meet.

"thank you," you gave him a slight bow to show your gratitude for his help. You were also extremely worried that he might hear the loud beating of your heart because of how quiet the night was. "it's dangerous to be out here at this time." He said, his voice as cold as the wind blowing. You smiled and chuckled at him before you replied "my bad, I wanted to help out Baizhu because he needed some Violetgrasses. They ran out of it and I couldn't let Qiqi do it herself" you feel Xiao's gaze piercing at you so you look down and felt a shiver ran down your spine everytime the wind blowed. You didn't know what he was thinking, he's unpredictable. His gaze didn't show a hint of what was on his mind. "you're cold. come." your face immediately flared up when he reached out his arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. The butterflies in your stomach went crazy when you felt your bodies touch. Xiao summoned his primordial jade spear as he tightly held you close, you felt a sharp cold all over your skin as you closed your eyes and the next thing you know, both of you are at where it seems to be like the Wangshu Inn. The view was amazing from Xiao's quarters, you can see Mt. Qingce and Jueyun Karst far in the distance under the night sky. He was standing right beside you, an arm still around your waist and as you're busy admiring the view outside, Xiao was preoccupied studying your features. He thought your hair smelled nice, and that the shape of your body fit right in his arms. It was amazing how he made you feel so comfortable despite just meeting each other.

"you feel familiar... and your warmth, I'm drawn to it." he says with a straight yet calm voice. Xiao was doing his best to stop himself from just throwing you on the bed and be one with you. As much as he wants that, he wouldn't want you to feel unsafe around him. He didn't want to hurt you either because he knows what his strength is capable of. Blood rushed to your face as embarrassment seeped in by hearing his words. Maybe it was because he felt the same way as you did that caused an uproar to the butterflies in your stomach. Still quietly standing there, you were unsure of what to do. You were cautious that your actions might come off as rude or disrespectful to an adeptus like him. He studied your expression and slowly turned to look away and fixed his gaze on the painting to his right instead. "are you afraid?... do I scare you?" he calmly asked. It was almost as if he was ashamed of himself in which you immediately denied to. "of course not! It's just that I want to be closer to you but I'm afraid I'll make you feel uncomfortable. I really am happy to be here." you tried to reach out to touch him but decided to stop in your tracks, your hand left hanging in the air. A part of you wanted to comfort him, to close that gap between the two of you but at the same time you didn't want to cross his boundaries. Xiao didn't know what to feel, it has been a while since he felt happy and he thought he almost forgot this type of emotion. He's very new to this kind of thing, he hasn't done this to any other woman besides you so he although he didn't want to admit felt slightly embarrassed about opening himself up to you. Xiao fixed his gaze to meet your eyes, his honey orbs shining in the moonlight leaving you mesmerized by his beauty. He was breahtaking and you could feel his eyes burning holes in your body. It was as if he wanted to say something but just couldn't--just hoping you would get the memo through eye contact. Xiao broke the tension to look at your hand still in the air. You noticed him staring and as you were about to place it back down he caught it with his own and laced his fingers into yours. Embarrassment started to wash all over you. You wanted to yank your hand back but you knew you'll immediately miss his touch if you do so. Unconsciously you bit your lip to stop your face from turning into a complete replica of a tomato. Seeing that sight of you drove Xiao crazy, the eagerness to be closer with you grew faster as every second passes by. Xiao isn't usually the type to be the first to make a move but he yearned for you so much until he could no longer take it. He acted without thinking twice and went in for a kiss, his hands slowly going up to cup the back of your head to pull you closer. You were surprised but you soon didn't have the time to care about it because of how easily you got drunk by his kisses. It was obvious Xiao didn't have much experience in this, his kisses were sloppy but at the same time it was gentle. It was slow and he took the time to explore your mouth as his tongue slipped in. Your knees trembled as the tension around the two of you grew, any further than this might make your legs give in. You clinged on to him as your knees felt jelly, Xiao groaning in the process in response to your sudden shift of movement.

Hearing him groan was the cherry on top for you to go insane. It was too much and you feel your body heating up as both of you grew more needy of each other's touch. With one hand cupping the back of your head, Xiao placed his other on your waist to pull you closer. Your bodies touched as he continues to make out with you, he pulled you in so close that your boobs are all pressed up against him. You groaned when you felt his boner, driving Xiao crazy when he too felt stimulated. "mhm," he moaned, hand gripping tighter on your waist. You were so close that you can't help but grind on his hardened member while both of you moaned in each other's kisses. Xiao held on to your thighs, pulling it up to carry you. You felt his dick graze on your clothed pussy, the friction making you dripping wet. Xiao carried you and laid you on his soft bed, making sure that your head would be supported by a pillow underneath. He was caring despite his hungry kisses and you blushed at the thought of him being thoughtful for your well being. Xiao didn't waste any time after he laid you in bed, he reached out for your clothes and slowly stripped you out of each garment, planting hickeys here and there as his hands traveled on your sensitive body. "mhm... Xiao...more.. please--hngh" you tried to beg only to be cut off by your own moan when Xiao decided to place his lips on your nipple, his free hand groping the other. "be a patient good girl for me." he cooed. Xiao was emitting such lewd sounds as he sucked on your nipple, his other hand slowly making its way down to your already wet cunt, his fingers kneading slow circles on your folds. You squirmed and moaned underneath him, your knees folded and closed due to the sensation. "how sensitive.. so pretty." Xiao nibbled on your lips before using his hand to pull your knees apart to allow him to move his fingers easier. He wanted you wide open for him, all stretched out for him so he can feel you dripping for him. You arched your back when you feel him press his digits on the folds of your pussy, slowly prodding on the entrance while his thumb was kneading on your budding clit. You tightened around his fingers, each move heating you up as you craved for more. Xiao kept planting hickeys around your breasts, occasionally sucking and licking on your nipple while his fingers played with your pretty little cunt.

"hngh... want you.. Xiao--ngh" you begged. Any more of his stimulation might make you cum, especially when he knew exactly where to touch you down there. Xiao ignored your plea, still insisting on teasing you. He liked the idea of being in control and having you weak for him with your mouth open while you moan, eyes shut, hands gripping on his hair and back arched while your pussy is being played. He used slow motions to play with your folds and the insides of you, making sure that he touches the right spots to send shivers down your legs. "no.. ngh.. Xiao.. faster--please" you pleaded breathlessly. But Xiao was strict and stubborn to his actions and instead of obeying to your wishes, he switched from sucking on your nipple to nibbling on your ear. "so needy." he whispered as he curled his fingers inside you and made small circles on the walls of your pussy. You were a moaning mess, he hit your g-spot so good that you tightened around him. You feel it building up inside you, if he keeps going any further you might just come on his hand right then and there. Xiao used his two digits to spread and carress the walls of your pussy, giving you no choice but to just moan harder to the sensation. "Xiao--nnghh I might.. I--" Xiao cut you off, his lips shutting you up as he kissed you torridly.

"Not yet." his voice was stern and strict. It felt more like an order that you had to obey or else you'll face consequences should you wish to disobey him. He pulled out his fingers before you reached your limit. You feel your cunt throbbing, eagerly craving for him to fill you up. Xiao sat back to strip himself, his hands finding its way to grip on your knees to keep it wide open for him. You took a good glimpse of his cock, tip already dripping with precum. You wanted it in so bad. Xiao wasted no time and began to grind the tip of his member on your clit, making sure that his dick is coated by the juices of your wet pussy. Your moans echoed in his room, he was teasing you and he did it nice and slow, making you more and more impatient. You wanted to beg, to make him hear your pleas but you did your best to remain patient and do as he ordered. After a while of more teasing, he loomed over you. His hair was falling on his face as he prompted himself over you and you swore the sight could make any woman in Teyvat lose their sanity.

"good girl." he burrowed his face in the crook of your neck and planted soft kisses on it, his hands carressing your torso and groping your breasts all while at the same time making you feel the tip of his cock enter your pussy. You were so wet and it wasn't even his whole dick inside you yet, the stimulation just drove you insane and knowing that it was Xiao fucking you was enough to turn you into a moaning hot mess. You feel the tip slip in and you arched your back as you moaned. He was all over your body, making sure that his hands and lips were planted on your skin so you don't forget his warmth. He kept teasing, only letting the tip in and grinding it in the entrance of your dripping cunt. "hngnh.. Xiao.. please--ughn, I want it.. in-" It was this familiar feeling again. Any more of his teasing and you might just come. It was just too good and a big part of you just wanted his whole thing stuffed in you. "hmm.. so impatient." he cooed, his lips brushing on your neck and all the way down to your shoulder. He planted one last kiss on you before sitting back up, his hands now gripping on your knees to spread them wide. He took his member out and held it, using the tip to gather the slick dripping from your cunt before shoving his whole dick in. Moans were the only thing escaping from your lips, head filling in with ecstasy as Xiao pounds his cock in you. He was going in so fast and deep, the curve of his cock grinding on the pulsating tight walls of your wet needy pussy.

"ngh..." his moans were a major turn on and you paired it up with your own sets of moans too, making it the only sound being heard in the room other than the sound of skin slapping from being fucked hard by an adeptus. The pounding of his cock inside you was enough to bring you to cloud9. You reached out to his arms and hugged him close, your fingers digging on his back as his thrusts grew faster. The built up orgasm you had from all his teasing earlier was coming back again but you paid no mind to it and continued moaning. "oh! Xiao... there.. deeper---there!" he went in much closer to you, face buried beside your neck while his hands travelled down to grip on your butt, raising it up a little so he could hit the deepest parts of you better. His cock prodded on your walls that was now tightening up more than before. You were so good around his member, your pussy enveloping every part of his throbbing dick inside you.

"Xiao.. coming.. hnngg--" you wrapped your legs around him to pull him closer, wanting every inch of him go deeper as you neared your orgasm. "Go on. Come for me." he said it with his raspy panting voice right in your ear and licked it as he rammed his cock in a slower but deeper pace. Once again you were a moaning mess, helplessly calling out his name in between moans. You spasmed as you came, toes curling in and your fingers drawing lines on his back as you digged them in his skin. He let out the sexiest moan as you feel his load being shot inside you, deliciously filling you up and the rest dripping out at the entrance of your creaming pussy along with your own cum.

You lay there breathlessly under him, your head still high up in the clouds. You feel him panting beside you and he proceeded to hug you as he rolled over to the side, not minding that his cock was still stuffed inside you. You liked the sloppy feeling of your pussy dripping with his cum and his dick coated by the creamy walls of your hot cunt.

You hugged him back, snuggling in close to him and slowly drifting to sleep. You felt him kiss your forehead after a while and his hand cupped the back of your head to pull you closer to his chest. You had the sweetest dream that night and you couldn't be any more happier than knowing that you were wrapped in his arms during your sleep.

「hanyaksha © 2021」 all content belongs to me. please do not modify, edit, or repost.

[nagimitsus]

Title: somewhere along the line

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Synopsis: For all his delicate appearance, Venti has always been incredibly strong.

Diluc has known this from the start. Before the traveler entered their lives, before the battles, before he saw him standing in front of a dragon, ready to give everything in exchange for the freedom of another. And Diluc had thought, now that is how a god should behave.

That is someone I could believe in.

 [Read on AO3!]

For all his delicate appearance, Venti has always been incredibly strong.

Diluc has known this from the start. Before the traveler entered their lives, before the battles, before he saw him standing in front of a dragon, ready to give everything in exchange for the freedom of another. And Diluc had thought, now that is how a god should behave. 

That is someone I could believe in. 

It should come as a surprise, the amount of respect that he has gathered for the bard of melodious voice that makes himself at home only at his tavern. But it doesn’t. Maybe Diluc felt a pang of nuisance at first, when he thought of Venti only as a drunkard with too many stories to tell. 

That was before he came to know him. Before the nights when his smile became sad after too many bottles of wine, small and nostalgic and unfitting in such a bright face. Before he understood that there was still a raw wound behind those eyes of his, still bleeding as much as Diluc’s own. 

Diluc took the habit of offering him a glass of water and telling him to go home. The sensation of discomfort that nested his chest when Venti smiled up at him and asked what home was he talking about made Diluc wince.

.

At some point between that and the whole Dvalin situation, he stops asking Venti to go home and starts keeping him company until the silent streets of Mondstadt, illuminated only by the moon and the stars, call back for its bard. 

When Venti leaves, his smile is a bit more grateful and a lit less lonely, and Diluc tells him “I hope you find something more rewarding to spend your time on, tomorrow” but thinks See you later. 

Venti laughs. It sounds like a breeze. “What’s more rewarding than wine, I wonder?” he says, and has the audacity to wink.

Diluc sighs, because there’s nothing else he can do. 

.

The thing about Venti is that he doesn’t want to be worshipped. 

He doesn’t. It’s made clear in the way he behaves, the way he doesn’t stop too much in front of the church unless it’s to perform, the way he talks to the citizens of his country as if they were more friends than subjects. And it’s not because he likes the freedom that comes with anonymity, it’s not because of his own wants or needs. 

It’s because he wants them to be free, in this city where there are no tyrants and no gods. This city where they can follow the winds and their hearts alike, bound by nothing but their own ideals.

Diluc protects Mondstadt, fiercely. Because he loves everything it represents and everything it stands for. 

And likewise, he protects the god that gifted them all of this.

.

 Venti stops by the Winery of Dawn sometimes. Diluc finds him trying to steal wine or sleeping inside a barrel, and thinks: this is not a deity, this is a raccoon. 

Still, because he has a bit of faith left in him and because he used to go to church with his father back in the day, Diluc takes him by the back of his cape and into the house, where he makes sure he’s put to rest in one of their spare rooms, with enough water on his bed table to deal with the hangover. 

By the next morning he’s always gone, but the wind blows gently through the open window. 

Sometimes, if he’s still sober enough to string a few words together when Diluc takes him in, Venti laughs, and clings to his shoulders with both arms, and says things like “I can sing for you if you desire it, Master Diluc”, with that sweet voice blurry but cheerful. 

Diluc sits him down before the fireplace on those occasions, just so he can make sure that Venti drinks enough water and doesn’t do something like throwing up into his own mouth and suffocating on it.

What a troublesome bard, Diluc thinks. The thought is covered in affection anyway, and he has to sigh to himself at that. Venti blinks slowly at him, almost as if he could know what’s crossing his mind just by looking at him, and then he leans in his direction with a drunken smile that makes Diluc roll his eyes. 

“You,” Venti says, slowly but with intent, “are a very good person. Do you know that, Master Diluc?”

The reaction is immediate. Diluc can feel it start on his stomach and creep up until his head, his ears, his hands. It’s a fuzzy sentiment that makes home on his chest and purrs like a cat, a reminder of how good it is to be acknowledged. 

Diluc looks back at Venti’s eyes, clear even in his state. 

When he was young, he wondered how the truly religious felt. He asked Jean once, eleven or so, as little Barbara tried to sign in tone with the croaking of a frog. And Jean, always patient and warm, had said: I don’t think it can be explained.

But it can.

Diluc feels like he’s being hugged by a tornado and cradled by the breeze at the same time. It’s excruciating and infuriating and exhilarating, and it’s making a knot into his stomach, reddening his ears. 

He scoffs lightly, but his voice is not unkind when he says:

“And you are very drunk.”

Venti laughs at that, and the sound reverberates in the space of the room.

The only reason Diluc doesn’t leave is because he’s still afraid that Venti will throw up all over himself. 

.

(The traveler comes.

The traveler comes, they fight against Dvalin, and Diluc has to see Venti’s slender form fly across the battlefield when the dragon hits him once. Even when he gets up immediately, smiling through the pain, the knot that he made in Diluc’s stomach twitches and hurts. 

He makes sure to tell Barbara that the bard got hurt once they go back to Mondstadt, and ignores the perplexed look that he sends his way.)

.

Venti doesn’t come to the winery for a few weeks after the Dvalin incident, and they don’t meet up at the tavern either. Diluc would be worried, if he didn’t see him here and there, talking to Kaeya or playing a simple tune for Klee (who he seems to adore, if the warm look in his eyes as the little girl tries to harmonize with him.)

Diluc is not prone to lie to himself, so he doesn’t even try to deny that he misses Venti’s annoying presence. Still, since the traveler left for Liyue, the whole town seems to have subdued, its upbeat attitude turned into a dull sense of longing. 

Someone knocks on his door one night, almost sixteen days after he saw Venti for the last time. And of course, as fate would have it, it’s the bard himself who’s waiting at the other side.

Rain is not unusual in Mondstadt, even when they’re accustomed to a gentle drizzle, so most citizens have learned to take an umbrella with them when the spring is creeping on them.

Venti is dripping wet, and there’s something in the way his clothes cling to the line of his shoulders that make him straight up sad, almost pathetic. Still, the gleam on his eyes is a tell-tale that he’s been drinking, and the curve of his smile is too close to loneliness. It stirs something in Diluc, calls for the silent understanding of their nights in the tavern.

He doesn’t say anything, just takes a step to the side to let him in. 

The maids will find awfully unpleasant the wetness on the carpet, Diluc’s mind supplies, but it’s difficult to care when Venti smiles like rain and alcohol and apples, all mixed up. His mere presence tends to be intoxicating, with the way he takes so much space with his voice and his laugh and his music, but it’s even worse now. Maybe it’s because Diluc has become unaccustomed to it.

“Do you need somewhere to stay?” Diluc asks after a few seconds. Venti’s smile is still sad, but it’s there nonetheless. 

If this were any other person, the sound of the wind outside might have drowned their words. But Venti has never known how to be quiet, and so Diluc hears him without any trouble:

“You care about me, don’t you, Master Diluc?”

He sighs, and closes the door. The storm becomes a muted sound behind the wood and the steel, and somehow that adds to the intimate atmosphere that this scene carries. Diluc can feel it at his throat, the warning, the threat that comes with the closeness. He talks through it.

“I don’t think you’ve made all the way here just to point out the obvious, bard.”

He turns then, and Venti is still there, looking straight into him. In the pit of his eyes there’s an ancient kind of loneliness that makes him look terribly old. It’s in times like this when it becomes easy to think of him as a god. Again, Diluc thinks of what being religious means, thinks of kissing his temple and his hands until pink and red go back to his skin, thinks of drying his hair and lending him a bed.

That’s not the kind of devotion that a God requires. But for Venti, who would treat the cathedral built in his name just to see Klee smile, who dirties his hands helping Sucrose with her work and runs away from Diona between laughs whenever she gets angry at him, it might be enough. 

Venti laughs. The sound is enough to loosen the muscles of Diluc’s tense shoulders.

“I haven’t,” Venti says, and then he turns around and walks into the house as if it belongs to him. Diluc follows, waiting for him to go on. Since he doesn’t, he adds:

“I’m not going to serve you wine here,” just to make sure that’s out of the table. 

Venti hums, amused. He goes straight to the fireplace, sticking both hands in front of the flames. Diluc stops just three steps away from him, taking a few seconds to stare at the side of his face, shadows dancing over the curves of his nose, his eyebrows, his neck. 

“I lost something important,” Venti says at least, his voice soft, “and my power has decreased drastically.” 

Diluc frowns before he can stop himself. Venti looks at him with that same smile that doesn’t suit him, even as he’s winking, probably trying to downplay his own words.

“Worst possible time too, right?”

Diluc would know. The Abyss Order’s activity is still on rise, and the Fatui are getting bolder every passing day. He knows the Knights of Favonious are not good enough to keep them all at bay, not enough to protect all of Mondstadt, bound by the laws and diplomacy and their own duty.

Even so,

“I’m still here,” he reminds him, as if it was obvious. “And Jean will do everything in her power.”

Venti looks at him through the corner of his eye for a second before he’s turning his whole body, hands on his hips. He giggles again, and even though the sound is far off the usual, it doesn’t sound as tense as his last words.

“Are you saying you will protect me, Master Diluc?” 

Diluc doesn’t roll his eyes, because he’s not keen on the gesture, but he hopes that the expression on his face is enough to convey his feelings of fond frustration. One can’t be serious with Venti around unless someone is in immediate danger, it seems. 

“I am saying that if my actions can bestow some peace upon you, know that I’ll keep protecting Mondstadt.”

Venti takes a step in his direction, then another. When his hands close around Diluc’s white shirt, they leave wet marks that extend through the cloth under his fingers, cold against his skin. The flower on his hat has lost at least two petals in the rain, but his eyes are alive and  warm as they look straight into Diluc’s red ones.

He doesn’t feel the need to confess, doesn’t want to kneel down and ask for forgiveness for his sins. But he wants to keep Venti here nonetheless, in the intimacy of the room illuminated only by the flames. Maybe that’s a thought that needs absolution. 

“You,” Venti says, very slowly, “are a very good person. Did you know that, Master Diluc?”

He smirks, the little shit. Diluc doesn’t bother to answer this time, because he’s too busy trying to calm down the beating of his heart as Venti gets on his tiptoes, one hand going to his shoulder, the other remaining on his chest.

Diluc leans down into the kiss, and it’s impossible to think of a god when the laugh that he swallows in his own mouth it’s so undeniably Venti.

[asweetprologue]

me lámh le do lámh - Part II

First | Next | Masterpost

He went straight to Vizima to find Triss, once he’d made his way out of Kaedwen. It wasn’t directly on the way to Oxenfurt, but it was close enough that he didn’t feel he was making an unreasonable digression. Though he was nervous about locating his bard, he needed to know what this Ida person could tell him.

Triss was as welcoming as always, greeting him with a brief press of cheeks and a light embrace. Yennefer had told her of Geralt’s mission, but she was unable to assist him on the first day, busy with treating several commoners who had come down with a sickness. Nothing of a magical nature, but it did detain her for much of the day after Geralt’s arrival. He busied himself in the city, restocking on potion ingredients that he’d run low on over the long winter, dropping his armor off to be reinforced, and picking up a slim cloth bracelet for Jaskier. It was a soft blue color, with silver beads spaced evenly over the surface, and Geralt thought it would please him.

Gods. He was in trouble.

That evening he dined with Triss in her quarters, despite the fact that it was wildly inappropriate. Geralt asked after it, and Triss laughed dismissively.

“That is a delightful sentiment, but no one is questioning my dalliances,” she said with a grin. “They’re too afraid I’ll turn them into toads if they irritate me. And besides, half the Continent believes that you’re courting Yennefer because of the bard’s silly songs, and the other half thinks you’re courting the bard.”

Ah. “Well,” Geralt said, articulately.

Triss smirked at him over her wine. It was exceptionally good, a vintage from Toussaint that was nearly as old as Geralt. Triss’ quarters were fairly large, befitting a court mage, but decorated in a way that made them seem almost cozy. She favored muted colors that turned rich in the light of the candles scattered around the room. There were dozens of tables and shelves crowded with books, herbs and knick knacks that made the space feel distinctly lived in. It was a stark contrast to Yennefer’s lodgings, which were always immaculate and finely organized. The clutter was a refreshing change of pace. “Yennefer told me that you’re trying to make the bard immortal,” Triss said. One of her eyebrows rose, and Geralt wasn’t sure if the look she gave him was impressed or judgemental.

“Not necessarily,” Geralt said defensively. “Just not so, uh.”

“Excessively mortal?”

He hummed. Triss sighed.

“I don’t know of anything to lengthen a human lifespan to that of a witcher’s,” she said. “But the elves have been dealing in things relating to life force for longer than there have been human mages on the Continent. If anyone has any knowledge of what you’re after, it will be the Aen Saevherne.”

Geralt nodded. “Yennefer told me to ask after a woman named Ida. A sage?”

Triss set her goblet down, looking grave. “Ida Emean. An old acquaintance of mine. Perhaps one of the last elven sages alive, though they’re so secretive it’s difficult to tell. She works occasionally with the Brotherhood, when their goals align. But you need to know, Geralt, even if she has an answer for you, this kind of magic comes with a price. Always.”

“I’m willing to pay it,” Geralt said. “Jaskier, he’s—”

Triss interrupted him with a gentle smile, brushing her fingers over the back of his hand on the table. “I know what he is to you. I want to help. I just want you to be careful.” Geralt wondered when he’d become this transparent to, apparently, half the Continent and every one of his close friends. The sorceresses were probably gossiping behind his back.

“How will you contact her?” Geralt asked, pushing through his embarrassment. He wished saving Jaskier’s fragile human life didn’t involve so many conversations about his unrequited love.

“Megascope,” Triss said, rising. “We’ll need to do it soon, when the moon rises. It will make the connection stronger; I’m not sure where she is.”

Geralt followed her into a room off of the main sitting area, a small space that was almost entirely dominated by Triss’ megascope. He’d seen its like numerous times at Kaer Morhen, where Yennefer had set her own up in the highest tower still standing. The large crystal disks swam with a cool blue light as Triss waved her hand through the air. Three brass arms rose up to hold them at shoulder level, facing inwards to form a triangle. The soft light filled the dark space, throwing Triss’ face into sharp relief before Geralt snapped a finger to light the candles in the room.

Triss stepped up in front of the negative space between the stands, uttering a few words in Elder that Geralt wasn’t familiar with. After a moment the light began to shimmer and twist around itself, slowly solidifying into a human form.

The figure was indistinct, as they usually were in megascope projections, but Geralt could tell that the woman was beautiful. Used to dealing with elves in the south, whose genes had been diluted with human blood over so many centuries, Geralt was taken aback by the sharpness of her features. Her neck was long and elegant, and her hair fell in sheets around her alien features. He was reminded suddenly of his encounter with the elves of the Blue Mountains so many years ago, the inhuman angle of Filavandrel’s cheekbones.

The smoky figure turned towards Triss first, her head dropping in a brief nod. “Triss Merigold. Keidmil.” Ida said in greeting.

Triss nodded in return, her curls bouncing with the motion. “Keidmil, Ida. I apologize for summoning you with so little warning. I have done so as a favor to a friend.” At this Ida’s eyes, empty orbs of swirling blue light in the megascope, fell on Geralt.

“Vatgern,” she said, with the tone of someone who has just discovered something fascinating but slightly repulsive on the bottom of their shoe. “You have friends in high places, wed. What business does a witcher have with me?” Her accent made the words almost musical.

Geralt’s nod of acknowledgement was more of a bow. He wasn’t normally one to show deference to those with power, but this time his heart was pounding in his ears as he leaned forward. If Ida wouldn’t help him, he would be back to square one before he’d even really begun. “Keidmil, Aen Saevherne,” he said as demurely as he could, which probably still came out sounding like gravel. “I was told by Yennefer of Vengerberg that you might have some knowledge on extending human lifespans.”

Ida’s head tilted a tic to the side, clearly intrigued. “Witchers already live near as long as any half-elf on the Continent,” she replied. “There is no spell that could give you the lifespan of a true Aen Seidhe.”

“It isn’t for myself,” Geralt said quickly. “It’s for a human. Someone I… care deeply about.” He ignored the way his face flamed at this admission, no matter how clear it was that Triss obviously knew about his infatuation. He’d barely admitted it aloud to himself, let alone anyone else.

Ida hummed, the sound vibrating through the megascope. “This has precedent. But the spell you seek does not come without cost.”

“Tell me,” Geralt said firmly.

“There has always been conflict between humankind and the Aes Seidhe. Our peoples have crossed gweld an gleidyf many times over the millennia. But there were always times when there was peace, coexistence. In the early days, before the blood of men diluted our own, the Aes Seidhe could live through half a dozen human lifetimes or more. It was taboo to form relationships with humans, and many did not bother. But there were, of course, exceptions.

“It is unclear where the ritual comes from, but the tales say that one of the Aen Saevherne fell in love with a human woman, who then fell gravely ill as she entered her twilight years. The sage, terrified of losing her, bound her lifeforce to his own, effectively extending her life at the cost of some of his own longevity. Over the years the ritual was refined by others. It has fallen out of practice, in this age; many of the Aes Seidhe’s bloodlines are so diluted that they live for no longer than twice a human lifetime. But the ritual remains.”

Geralt swallowed. “Can you explain it to me?”

“I can,” Ida said, her chin raising slightly. “But I do not need to tell you, vatgern, that all such magic comes with consequences. You cannot create those years from nothing; they must be drawn from somewhere. And you will be binding yourself to this human. I cannot say how this ritual will impact someone who is not of elvish blood.”

He could feel Triss turning worried eyes on him. She too knew the price that magic could demand. “Will Ja—the human, could he be harmed?” Geralt asked.

Ida’s head shook back and forth, her hair swaying. “You assume the responsibility of the ritual,” she said. “Is this human worth so much to you?”

“Yes,” Geralt said instantly, surprised by his own lack of hesitation. “Anything.”

Ida looked at him for a moment, as if judging his truthfulness. “Very well,” she finally said. “I will give you the words, but the ritual requires additional pieces. Gaes carraigh, an oathstone, for the vow; ghealachlíon, night’s linseed, for the binding; and ionad, a place of great power or great personal meaning. Once these elements are combined, you bind your hands with the moonflax over the oathstone and speak the incantation. It is straightforward, but your pronunciation and your intent must be exact. Me lámh le do lámh, me cáerme le do cáerme.”

“Me lámh le do lámh, me cáerme le do cáerme,” Geralt repeated. The words were easy, close enough to their modern counterparts that he was certain it would be nearly identical in southern Elder. It was almost too easy, romantic in its simplicity. Ida nodded, satisfied. “And that’s all?” Geralt asked, breathless.

“That is all. There need be no officiant, no further ceremony. You will be bound by Chaos herself.”

“Officiant?” Geralt blinked, confused. “Why would we need an officiant?”

“I have been told that human marriages tend to involve quite a few witnesses,” Ida said, sounding amused. “Ours are a bit more personal.”

“Wait. This is a marriage ritual?” Geralt felt his heart starting to sink down into his stomach.

“I thought that much was obvious,” Ida replied. “Now, if that is all you require, I have my own business to attend to.”

“Me grasha, Ida, for taking the time,” Triss piped up again. “If you ever need a favor in return…”

“I will keep that in mind,” Ida said. “Va feil.”

“Va feil,” Triss replied, and the megascoped dimmed and cast the room back into darkness.

Geralt stood in utter stillness for a moment, blinking into the dark. “Fuck,” he burst out. “I have to marry him?”

Triss just laughed.

*

Triss, luckily, knew the locations of most of the components Ida had mentioned, though the last location would be up to Geralt to determine. The first of these, the oathstone, was used frequently enough in larger elven settlements before their people were displaced. She had recommended the ruins of Ban Aine as a likely findspot, and it was situated not too far from Oxenfurt. That was to be his first real stop, to collect Jaskier and convince him of Geralt’s plan.

Hopefully without revealing too much about the exact nature of the ritual, which still made Geralt sweat when he thought about it for too long.

He couldn’t help but think of it with a strange mix of giddiness and dread, churning together in a nauseating concoction. Marriage wasn’t something that witchers got to do, ever. Their lives were transient and drawn out, and often ended in violence. Even if any of them had the time to court lovers, it wasn’t the type of life that one would wish on someone they cared for. It could only end one of two ways: the witcher outlived their paramour, or their love was left to grieve them after they were gutted by some beast or strung up by an angry mob.

Even when Geralt had been infatuated with Yennefer he hadn’t truly considered anything like marriage. He had imagined a kind of loose commitment, maybe, but he had always known somewhere deep in his own mind that Yennefer would never stand to be tied down to anyone for long. He had been desperate enough for her love that he’d been willing to settle for anything she could give him.

He had never dared to hope for more, no matter how he might want it. Still, once he had come to understand his own feelings towards Jaskier, he had been unable to stop himself from thinking about it at times. He wondered what things might change between them, if they tied themselves together. Things might stay much the same; Jaskier would come to Kaer Morhen most years, and journey with Geralt when he could throughout the rest of the year. He would bring trinkets and books and stories for Ciri, and teach her how to be human, and trade quips with Yennefer and the other wolves when they all gathered. He would still help Geralt clean up after a hunt, help him stitch his skin back together and wash away the grime and curl up at his side when night came. But maybe he would also let Geralt wake him by pressing his lips to Jaskier’s eyelids like he had so often yearned to do. Maybe he would reach out and hold Geralt’s hand as they walked through a new town; maybe he would close the distance kept between them when they lay in tiny rented beds.

Maybe he could be Geralt’s, and no one else’s.

He was successful, most of the time, in keeping these kinds of thoughts at bay. It did a witcher no good to dwell on what could not be.

Now it would be, if only technically, and only if Geralt could convince Jaskier to perform the ritual without giving away its origins. He considered telling Jaskier the full truth of it, of course. It was probable that Jaskier wouldn’t even care. In his mind, they were only friends; it would be easy enough to set aside the implications of the ritual in favor of practicality. It would be ridiculous to turn down the chance at potentially doubling his own lifespan just because hundreds of years ago an ancient ritual was used for romantic unions.

But every time Geralt thought of telling Jaskier, and of hearing him dismiss Geralt’s concerns, he felt something black and dreadful crawl up his throat. Jaskier would think it was silly, the idea that he could ever be married to a witcher. He would laugh, with that sly grin he always got when they were sharing a joke between them—isn’t that funny, the look would say, the idea of you and me.

No. If he said nothing, Jaskier would never have to know, and what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. Geralt would never hold him to any sort of bond that the ritual created between them; he would be happy knowing that Jaskier wouldn’t be taken from him by time and old age, at least not yet.

And at least he would have something of Jaskier for himself, even if he’d had to steal it.

[mochiimiiki]

| What they’re like when you’re hurt |

[Kaeya, Childe, Venti x F!reader]

Okay so basically you two are out battling some hilichurls

nothing unusual

the other knights were occupied and he needed some assistance (at least that’s what he says but in reality he wanted to spend time with u)

you guys relish in your victory, another camp down! all seemed well when suddenly out of nowhere appeared an abyss mage

the first thing it did was attack you, leaving you severely wounded

however, before it could get away kaeya sprung into action and defeated it

immediately after he ran over to you in hopes you were okay, however upon further inspection the abyss mage had wounded your leg

this gentleman without thinking twice scooped you up in his arms and bridal style carried you back to mondstadt (luckily you weren’t too far)

now while everyone says says kaeya has this flirty, no care just get it done attitude i strongly believe when a situation needs to be taken seriously he WILL take it serious

this was one of those situations

after you got to mond you received some healing from barbara

it didn’t entirely heal but it helped speed the process and take away some pain

however for about a week you were bed ridden

so in this time kaeya made it his own personal mission to help you in every way possible

need a drink? on it. need help changing? on it. need food? on it.

by your side as much as possible, and if he has to leave hes going to beg amber, lisa or even jean to stay and help you out (despite you being capable of lasting an hour or two alone)

he wont outwardly express it or directly say it but he is super worried about you and so just by being able to do these little things for you consoles himself (as well as you)

however once you’re all healthy again expect him to tease you about relying on him

but bring up the fact he was worried and you may see a blush 0///0

okay totally different situations

the person who hurt you was him :(

he didn’t mean to!

it was just that both of you had been training and he got a little rough and may have accidentally sent you flying

however once he hit you it immediately dawned upon him what he’d done

he ran towards you and lifted you to your feet (strong man)

when you wobbled over and fall into his arms complaining about being sore he won’t let you go

like kaeya he scoops you up into his arms and bridal style carries you back to where he’s staying

there he attends to your wounds himself, cleaning up any scratches or cuts (with alcohol) to prevent infection

once your cleaned up and in comfy clothes he’ll ask if you need anything

if you do need a drink or smth hes rushing to get it but if you decide to rest he’ll leave you be

at first when staring at you he doesn’t know what to feel, he never intentionally set out to hurt you

but as we all know in his foul legacy form he can be a bit... rough

he kind of just sits there not knowing what to do with himself

he wont leave you but he’s afraid if he touches you he’ll hurt you again

however you reach out first and demand cuddles, a no will not suffice 😌

the boy delivers but he’s noticeably more gentle with you, careful not to move and only shifting every once in awhile to remain comfortable

even if you assure him you’re okay hes still going to feel guilty

big brother instincts

in the end it’s okay though he just has to remember you can get hurt easier than him

baby tone deaf bard who is a stinky twink man (jk i love this boy)

anyways where was i?

oh yes you got hurt

to put it simply you were probably doing something stupid like climbing up the walls of mondstadt

no ones going to tell you no though because like... it’s the city of freedom...

anyways you climb up one but lose ur slipping

most likely it had something to do with the hilichurl camp you’d raided earlier and how there was slime, afterall no one cleans their shoes when they’re outside?

but luckily you caught ur fall only to land awkwardly on your ankle

now venti is practical yet playful so he’ll take you straight to barbara

probably coming up with a song though to go with your injury

“Silly silly is the girl, much like our friend the hilichurl.

up and up she climbs, but beware beware of slimes!

They leave their sticky icky gooey substance, and now you must get healed

why hush your reluctance!”

he totally did it to get on your nerves, however it was kind of cute he made a song about you and your injury, despite the reason as to why

once barbara has healed you up he’ll poke fun at you for your clumsiness shouting things like

“I wonder what my next song will be about your clumsiness! WHY it could be about the time u broke a whole glass of dandelion wine!”

...

...you did say sorry

anyways venti is mischievous and so if by any chance ur injury still kind of hurts hes willing to pull all sorts of tricks to make you smile (i guarantee that he will make you smile)

[dahliavandare]

Too Sexy For My Shirt (I Wanna Love You)

Wreck the Bard

Rated: M

Prompt: lingerie/taking off clothes

Relationship: Geralt/Jaskier

Words: 1062

Jaskier had thought Geralt understood it was a date. He had said, when he asked, ‘come to the dinner as my date’. He had brought flowers when he picked him up (sunflowers because of their mild, pleasant scent and how they reminded him of Geralt’s eyes. And because he figured they probably wouldn’t wilt if Geralt didn’t get them in water until after he got home). He had been so bold as to kiss the back of Geralt’s hand when they announced his up-and-comer award. He had even, on the way home, played Geralt the first song he’d written for the album and said it was inspired by how he makes Jaskier feel.

But here he is, almost a week later, picking Geralt up from work for their usual pizza night, and from the other room he overhears Geralt dejectedly explaining to one of his coworkers that it’s not like that; the album Jaskier was getting recognized for was full of gay love songs so he HAD to bring a man as a date and Jaskier is not currently seeing anyone.

No shit Jaskier’s not dating anyone - he wants to date Geralt! He gave up on having other romantic relationships a decade ago because everyone paled in comparison to his best friend, and he had had to put a stop to his casual hook-ups a few years ago too (he had accidentally moaned Geralt’s name while the last fellow was sucking him off, and the man had immediately stopped and told him it was rude to call out the wrong name during sex, and positively cruel to say it with the kind of tenderness Jaskier just did when he couldn’t drum up a tenth of that enthusiasm for the person actually in front of him. It was an impressively eloquent speech, and all the more impactful because the fellow had delivered entirely from his knees.)

Later that night he asked Geralt, casually (as casual as a sequined ball gown), whether he was seeing anyone. Jaskier had fantasized that Geralt would lean forward and flirtatiously purr that he was planning on seeing Jaskier in his bed that night. Realistically, he hoped that Geralt would raise an eyebrow and state that the two of them were dating. What actually happened was that Geralt stared intently at his current pizza slice and said “No.”

This would not do! He had gotten up the courage to ask! He had taken Geralt on a date! During which Geralt had smiled repeatedly! Geralt was not allowed to not realize it had happened!

Jaskier came up with a new plan and worked the whole next week to get it ready.

He invited Geralt over to his apartment. He told him they could probably go to the rock climbing gym after, but that he was working on something that he really wanted to show Geralt first and get his input. When his friend accepted, Jaskier had to hold in a victory dance. He’d secured the whole afternoon for if it went well, and they really could spend the afternoon rock climbing if it didn’t.

Everything was ready when Geralt arrived. Jaskier was wearing a ruffled tuxedo shirt and soft lounge pants. The pants weren’t actually his first choice, he’d been hoping to wear some obscenely tight jeans to emphasize his assets, but he needed to be able to MOVE.

With the rest of the furniture pushed against the wall, he directed Geralt to the chair he’d moved to the middle of the room.

“Why does it matter where I sit to hear a song?”

“Well it’s, there’s a dance. You’re not just listening, you’re watching the dance, and I need you in the right part of the room for when I do it or it won’t be right.”

Geralt grumbled but sat.

Jaskier queued up the remix he’d made. This was it, the moment of truth. He stood with his back to Geralt, one hand behind his head, the other arm straight up in the air. The music opened with the yowl of an electric guitar, he started bouncing his hip to the beat.

Da dudum! Da dudum! Da dudum! Da dudum!

I’m-

He spun around

Too sexy for my shirt

And started unbuttoning as he walked toward Geralt

Too sexy for my shirt,

So sexy it hurts

Pelvic thrusts!

I’m too sexy for Milan

He had reached Geralt- turn and circle the hips!

Too sexy for Milan, New York and Japan

Ok, now swing the leg over - good! Lap successfully straddled!

I hear you calling and it’s needles and pins (and pins)

Jaskier runs his hands up his chest while writhing.

I wanna kiss you but my senses tell me to stop!

And throw off the shirt!

I wanna taste you but your

Too sexy for my love

He backed up, inching his pants down as he went.

Too sexy for my love love

Hip pop! Hip pop!

Your mouth, so hot, your web, I’m caught

Kick off the pants!

Your skin, so wet, black lace, on sweat

Turn and show the thong!

Yeah on the catwalk, yeah, on the catwalk, yeah

I shake my little tush on the catwalk.

Shake the butt!

Well I don’t wanna break these chains

Back up toward Geralt again.

Burning deep inside my veins

Turn and throw the leg over

I wanna kiss you but your

Lean in towards his lips,

Too sexy for this song!

and FREEZE!

The music had ended. He was straddling Geralt’s thighs, dressed only in a sturdy black thong. Their lips were all of an inch apart. Neither moved.

He waited, hoping Geralt had finally understood, but his best friend was just staring at him, motionless.

Jaskier, panting slightly from the dance, asked, “What do you think?” trying not to act like the answer could destroy him.

“It’s…” Geralt rasped, his voice dry and husky, “not your usual thing. I don’t think the audience will expect it.”

“You are the audience,” Jaskier breathed, “The dance is for you.”

Geralt stared at him, slowly placing his hands on Jaskier’s bare, muscular thighs. “For me?”

Jaskier nodded. Geralt kissed him. Jaskier wrapped his arms around the other man’s neck while Geralt slid his hands up to his hips and guided him onto his lap.

It was, Jaskier would conclude when they finally came up for air, a very successful plan.

@whataboutthebard

[innocentbi-stander]

Please please part 3 Elsa Jaskier, your writing is wonderful!!!

@kirenclub I’m glad you’ve enjoyed this so far, and I’m sorry for the embarrassingly long time it’s taken me to respond- but here’s the update!

___________

The first thing Jaskier noticed when he woke was that the pain in his head was gone. Instead, there was only the foggy remains of a long rest.

The second thing he noticed was that he was no longer on the side of a mountain, but in a strange bedroom. A strange bedroom, and in an obscenely comfortable bed. 

Jaskier sat straight up, ignoring the dizziness and general room spinning caused by the action when the events with Nilfgaard resurfaced. Black soldiers pursuing them relentlessly, Geralt and Yennefer tiring, on the cusp of being overwhelmed, him clutching Ciri close. 

Jaskier, releasing his powers in a fury of ice and snow and the exhilarating way his powers lit up his bones. The confused faces of his family when the dust (or should he say snow) had settled. Collapsing from overexertion, the gold of Geralt’s eyes being the last thing he saw before the world went black.

Were they okay? Did they get away? Was he captured? What the fuck was going on? Jaskier glanced around the room, trying to find clues.

It didn’t look like a place those nilfgaard pricks would bring one to be tortured. Not dark and dreary enough. There was even a blanket made of what looked to be bear fur carefully tucked around Jaskier and he seriously doubted Fringilla was the type to worry about someone catching a chill. 

So not a nilfgaard prison, but certainly too nice to be an inn. Too spacious, and not enough mysterious stains on the wood floor. In fact, there wasn’t a wood floor, it was stone. Was he in a castle?

There was a cozy fireplace burning on the other side of the room, various books and knick knacks, and clothes.... wait. Was that Geralt’s shirt? Jaskier had mended enough of them to recognize the faded black undershirt-

“What the hell are you doing up?”

The door flew open and none other than Yennefer herself, looking impeccable as ever strode through. She made quick work of pushing Jaskier back against his pillows, and to his frustration his body was still too exhausted to resist. Yennefer rolled her eyes and produced a handkerchief our of nowhere.

“Look what you’ve done, you’re bleeding again, bloody idiot bard”

The handkerchief was swiped under his nose and Jaskier’s eyes widened in shock. 

“That wasn’t there before” Yennefer scoffed,

“It wasn’t until you begin to overexert yourself the minute you’ve finally been healed”. That was nothing new to Jaskier and the witch damn well knew it. Besides, there were more important things at stake.

“Where’s Geralt and Ciri? Are they okay? Are you okay?” Yennefer wasted no time in delivering another eye roll.

“You just wake up after passing out and that’s what you’re asking?” Jaskier’s searching gaze didn’t waver and Yennefer sighed. “They’re fine. I’m fine. You destroyed the rest of the legion of soldiers and we were able to get away. You however, are not as fine. You collapsed after majorly overexerting powers that were bound to you for a very long time. Any other person would have burned apart from such an intense flow of magic. So why didn’t you?”

Before Jaskier could come up with an adequate way of not answering Yennefer’s question, there was the sound of heavy footsteps fast approaching. The heavy wooden door flew open and standing in the doorway was Geralt. He looked wild, his eyes frantic and strands of his hair loose from his hair tie. 

Golden eyes met blue and all the air in Jaskier’s lungs seemed to escape. 

“Jaskier,” Geralt grunted, panting a little from what must have been a long run to the bedroom, “You’re awake.” Jaskier couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

“Yes Geralt, it appears so”. Faster than Jaskier had ever seen him move, the witcher crossed the room in a matter of seconds and the next thing he knew, the bard was wrapped in his strong embrace. Geralt had never hugged him before. It was.... kind of the best thing to ever happen to Jaskier. He returned the hug, twisting his fingers into Geralt’s shirt. 

He felt the witcher ‘hmm’ in approval at the reciprocation. 

“Don’t ever do that again.” Jaskier pulled away, affronted and ready to argue to his last breath.

“Do what?” Geralt didn’t waver, meeting his gaze head on.

“Scare me like that again”. Hang on. What? Geralt being vulnerable was an entirely new concept to Jaskier, let alone Geralt admitting that he cared about him. That he had scared him? The big bad witcher? Maybe Jaskier had died on that mountain and he was now in some bizarre sideways world where Geralt talked about his feelings instead of suppressing them deep down inside and openly cared about the bard. Actually, the world sounded pretty nice.

A throat being cleared reminded Jaskier that normal people responded when being spoken to. 

He looked into the witcher’s golden eyes and saw the seriousness in them as they waited for an answer. And because Jaskier was Jaskier and had known Geralt far too long to not know what he was thinking at all times, he also saw the worry, the touch of nervousness. He sighed.

“Okay. I promise.” The small twitch of Geralt’s lips that might as well have been an ear to ear grin on the man was something that Jaskier would give away all the coins in his purse to see.

“I hate to interrupt this moment,” Yennefer drawled, and blast the witch because everyone in the room knew she damn well did intend to ruin it, “but we do have some unanswered questions to address. Like what the fuck happened on that mountain? You’ve never spoken of any kind of power before, and that certainly wasn’t anything a human could do. What are you?”

Jaskier swallowed, his throat dry and his heart heavy. Geralt’s hands that still sat on his arms were the only thing that kept him from trying to beat a hasty retreat. Where to begin? How does one tell the sorrid tale of how they lied to the closest people they knew for over twenty years?

“You see, it’s a bit of a long story.....”

Now would be a terribly convenient time to pass out again.

____________

And that’s part 3! This one definitely got away from me, I had a blast writing it! 

Part 4, anyone?

Tag List: @here-be-dreigiau @kittynannygaming @watchthewolvesfall @birds-are-a-conspiracy @sapphirebreeze @koala-kat @tinymacaroni @dunroamins @timeladygallifrey @lana-1526 @thebeckybear @technicallywiseoncns @biitumen @ninfatommo @screaming-flapjacks @galaxygalthemess @halfassedglitterbomb @darkangel9193 

[starstruck-shima]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐁𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬. (𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢)

“Even gods can’t help but stop to catch a breath.”

Notes: fem reader.

There were many things I wondered about.

After so many years of living, so many eons of asking questions without answers, I simply stood in the middle of a dandelion field, surrounded by crystal flies--Like a fool.

As I gaze upon the starstruck sky, what would lie ahead of me now? I was but a directionless being, with nowhere to go. My kin were gone, separated by walls that spared no mercy, not even to the birds. Now, all that remains of such were merely ruins of old. Its as if I’ve completely lost my purpose--no longer a protector of Mondstadt, no longer worthy of the long lifespan I was blessed with--Just a being of pure element, lost and astray.

It was there when I first felt the wind glaze over me so softly, and it was the first time I met you. At that moment, I felt a moment of rebirth. You were so kind, glazing upon me with such hazy eyes, and I felt so out of place. You, the ever glowing saint, an archon of the new world, and me... a soldier with no master.

I couldn’t even muster up words, for I was ashamed. Ashamed of what you’d think of me. So I did the bare minimum, for a being with heavy debt to Mondstadt itself. I ask for my punishment. “I lower my head to you. Please, set me free.”

His response however, shattered my expectations. With little to no hesitance, his reply flew like the wind. “That is for you to bring upon yourself.”

W-what? My eyes felt like saucers, as my throat ran dry. What did he mean by that? Freedom, retribution, I deserved none of that. The sin I hold upon myself by serving Decarabian is too much for a simply apology. It’s a burden I must carry.

“(Y/n) (L/n),” I rise my head to the call of my name. “--Former soldier of Decarabian’s. But most importantly, a lover of Mondstadt.” His hands outstretched to mine, and for some reason, it was as if I was naturally drawn to him. I knew his name, I knew who this was. Barbatos. It seemed that it wouldn’t take long for me to realize that no matter what form he took, he was still the same inside.

Archon, elemental being, bard. No matter what, Barbatos was Barbatos, and he gave me the ability to see truly for the very first time. That my freedom was in my own hands. 

“Then, with the freedom you’ve given me...

Let me vow to protect Mondstadt, for as long as I live.” It was going to be a very, very long time. I knew that. But I shall do this with the freedom I have granted myself. For the good of the four winds, of the nation I loved, and Barbatos, this is the vow I will stand in for as long as the wind howls.

...And that was how I ended up with this total drunkard of a god for the rest of my days.

Should I have begged even more for my execution? Probably. But would Barbatos still spare me? Most likely so.

“Dandelioooooonnn~~” his words were slurred, like he was riding a merry go round of booze. “Why won’t you let me touch you? Hey, come here~~”

“--That is unnecessary,” our friends watched as we bantered, me dodging Venti’s barrage of physical affection, and Venti... still trying no matter what. The traveler, who sat opposite of us, could only stay bewildered at the story, and the stark contrast of its two main heroes today.

“S-so, this is the fierce warrior who was granted the mercy of Lord Barbatos?!” Paimon’s mouth was agape. She stops for a breath, before carrying on. “You m-mean, (Y/n) once KNEELED to Venti?! Not only that, but the Barbatos in that tale feels so different than the Barbatos now!”

“It’s like watching an old married couple.” The traveler adds on to Paimon’s speech, still in disbelief. “So, that was how you met?”

Pushing away Venti’s hands, I try my best to keep a straight face. “Yes. The tales you hear the townsfolk tell to their children are partially true. however. the one Venti and I have told you tonight is how it really went down.” I chuckle at the thought. Who knew our first meeting had such an impact? “Though I’m glad it’s been teaching the kids a good life lesson or two.”

As my eyes trail back to Venti, I was hit with a softness, the same softness I felt after my adrenaline rushes were over, and when I knew everything was safe. I was pretty sure the traveler noticed my fondness too, but it’s alright. It’ll be our little secret. “Say, traveler. Let me let you in on a hymn of the bards of Mondstadt.”

“No matter how far the wind blows, everything stays,” I shift a bit at Venti’s weight, finally letting him rest on my shoulder. He reeked--though that was to be expected. “Right where you left it. Everything stays, but it still changes.”

I hope the traveler knew what I was talking about. In any case, the feel of Venti’s hand in mine, and the way he looked at me with such gentle eyes even whilst intoxicated proved such phrases to be true. We’ve gone through change, we’ve become different people. Once a warrior, once a rebel, now simple folk of Mondstadt, learning how to love like the people do. Once on different sides, fighting for the same freedom, and then--as the same wind blows, our relationship with each other slowly differed.

“So~” Paimon started to speak again, this time in a mischievous tone. “How did you two fall in love?”

Unexpectedly, I threw out a hoarse chuckle. Love. Such an unexpected experience that had befallen me. The truth was, I never expected it--at least not during my days of serving Decarabian. But as the times past, and when nations grew, I began to realize quite the consensus. The Mondstadt I protect now is still the same, yet things are different now. I didn’t need to devote myself to endless servitude, to slice monsters in half--because there was barely the need for it nowadays. Mondstadt’s people are capable of protecting themselves, and perhaps that was what Venti wanted me to believe.

“And then, perhaps that was when he grabbed the opportunity and freedom to woo me.”

“Ho ho, and it worked!” I roll my eyes at Venti’s sudden jab. Geez, what a childish god. “She used to be so serious. “I will protect Mondstadt!” “I will devote my life to it!” “No threat will ever pass you, Barbatos!” And then she’d run off to the wind, flipping her hair and acting all cool.”

“--But give her a flower and a song and she’s all red like an apple! Ahahahaha!” I wince at the embarrassment, quickly shutting his mouth. The traveler and paimon seem amused at the sudden revelation, and this was when I realized that it was probably best to do some damage control before my dear lover would be sleeping on the couch tonight.

Bidding the two and the bartender at Angel’s Share a farewell, I shoulder Venti, making sure to guide him deftly through the streets of Mondstadt. As we pave through the mostly empty surroundings, I start to feel warm--almost proud of the new Mond of today. How long as it been since the people were granted freedom? Since I had been able to stop and see the fruits of the labors its people who fought for it grow? It’s a nostalgic feeling, really.

“Heya, (Y/n).” It seemed that Venti noticed my silent musings. I hum a response, with no expectations whatsoever. If it was a question about how far we were from home, surely that--

“Marry me.”

I nearly ran into the pavement there and then. Marriage? To Barbatos? To Venti? To the man I knew as my lover? Wait, of course the person you’d get married to is most likely your lover. Then, why am I still so flustered? Why is it that with this man, everything felt so different and new? How is it that he could make such a mess of me, yet make me whole?

“Hey, why are you so quiet?” He pouts, adorably I might add. I still stumble to catch my breath. To be honest, I wouldn’t mind... “We’ve been together for so long, we’re pretty much just giving rings to each other. Come on~”

“Geh... When you put it that way... can’t you take this seriously?”

I felt a sudden drop--a different feeling place itself on him, and all of a sudden, he vocalizes many, many words. “I have! I’ve consulted the church, I’ve looked at all kinds of rings and other things you might prefer for proposals, and I’ve been thinking about it even in eons of slumber! I want us to be happy, (y/n), but most importantly, I want you to be happy, so regardless of your acceptance, it’s fine if we stay by each other’s sides, right?”

My breath hitched. Tears were threatening to prickle my eyes. Of course he’d be  so thoughtful, yet so playful too... don’t tell me. “I don’t want you to propose to me while you’re drunk, Barbatos... but you’re actually sober, aren’t you?”

“Ehe.” He chuckles, before getting on one knee, a small crystal core presented on the palms of his hands. “So, is that a yes?”

I couldn’t contain my smile. No matter how red my face was. A chorus of giggles rang through the night sky, and as Venti hovered over to my head to place the crystal core on my hair, I accepted his proposal.

[beardrabbles]

composed together. [ ♡ ]

characters: venti, reader

warnings: alcohol mention

word count: 3,029

notes: been trying out venti as a muse on a roleplay blog i have, but I wanted to have a crack at writing a reader with him. i'm not a poet in any sense of the word, so i'm sorry if isn't up to venti's standards lmao. if you tolerated all the rhyming, you deserve a gold star and a high-five.

You had tried so hard to make it back in time, but were disappointed when you returned to find Mondstadt barren of the usual Windblume decorations. There were no wreaths or elaborately decorated banners, no potted plants sporting twirling pinwheels. The scent of fresh flowers and baking goods persisted, but it didn’t carry with it the festive spirit. People were, once again, content to ask for help rather than tend to their own needs.

‘ And that’s why I missed out.  .  . ’ You brooded. It was because you offered yourself as a member of the Adventurer's Guild that you had found yourself pulled away from your home. You had been promised that the job in question wouldn’t take you longer than three days, give or take a day depending on how well you did. But, as it turned out, you had been gone for an entire week. And in that week, the festival had come and gone.

Windblume had never been about the romance for you. Every year, you looked forward to the food and atmosphere, letting the spirit carry you away. This year, however, you had held onto the fleeting hope that someone might show interest. Or that you might gather the courage to approach the one you so adored. You knew it was a lame excuse to depend on one holiday to steel your nerves, but the time and your chance had dashed past in the blink of an eye.

“Shouldn’t have taken the damn commission.” You slumped at an outdoor table near The Angel’s Share, a half-empty tankard of cider resting in your hands. You drummed your fingers along the side of the tankard, willing yourself not to be bummed. The holiday would come around again next year, you reminded yourself as you downed another gulp. “But I’ll probably get sent out then too.”

You stooped forward even further, cheek nearly pressed flat to the table when the familiar sound of plucked  lyre strings thrummed in your ear. You sat straight so abruptly that you made yourself dizzy, your need to look around rapidly for the source not helping the fuzzy feeling in your head.

“Venti?” You called his name with such unbridled hope that he couldn’t keep himself hidden for long. A giggle sounded above you, and you felt your diminishing mood soar when you spotted the colorful bard sitting along the eaves of the tavern, beloved lyre in hand.

“The one and only!” He cooed, soaking in your glee. “Looks like you started without me.”

You frowned and peered down at your table, noting the two other empty tankards. Cheeks flushed from embarrassment, you pushed them aside, as if that would make them ( and your shame ) disappear. “Look, I just got back and I find out I missed out on Windbl——!”

Eyes up, you realized too late that Venti had vanished from the roof. You blinked once, then twice, your cider-addled mind slow to catch up. Where did he go?

“I was wondering where you’d gone off too.” His voice bobbed along the air, light and playful, and it tugged your attention like a hook pulling along a caught fish. He sat across from you, his chin resting in his palm and bright eyes twinkling with eternal mischief. “Missed Windblume, huh?”

“Mhmm.” You grunted and polished off the rest of your drink, mood dropping again. “I was looking forward to it too. Did I miss anything important?”

Venti hummed and leaned back in his seat. Absentmindedly, he toyed with the strings of his lyre. “Let me think. Margaret thought of a new, non-alcoholic drink and it went over pretty well with the kids and those looking to keep themselves a little more dignified during the festivities. Our own Honorary Knight was named this years Windblume Star! Oh! That’s right, I taught a class on the art of expressing ones love though poetry.”

You snorted.

“You taught people to write poems?” Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. “At what cost?”

“Come noq, Y/N, do you really think I could put a price on the ability to write out what a person’s heart yearns for most?” He paused, saw your deadpan stare, then let out a nervous chuckle. “A few bottles of holiday-exclusive wine is all I asked for.”

“Begged is more like it.” You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “How many bottles exactly?”

“Enough to tide me over.” Answered the bard vaguely.

“Is there any left?”

His silence was all the answer you needed. You groaned, let your head hit the table, then left it there as your forehead throbbed. Venti, sporting the rare flicker of guilt across a normally jovial face, leaned forward to pat at the back of your head.

“Hey, don’t be down. I have an idea!”

You lifted your head, but your eyes were downcast and dulled. “Is it a bad idea? I don’t think I want to mess with anyone right now, Venti.”

“I thought of the idea, so of course it’s a good one! And we’re not going to mess with anyone.” Venti grinned from ear-to-ear and stood, offering you a single, delicate hand. You gave it a hard stare, wondering what sort of troublesome plans he had brewing in his head. Unfortunately, you weren’t able to come up with a believable excuse as to why you couldn’t indulge him.

Leaving your empty tankards behind, you stood and took Venti’s hand. You stumbled the slightest bit before finding your footing. “What’s your idea, O Great and Fantastical Bard?”

“Since you’re being so kind as to lavish me in well-deserved compliments, I’ll tell you.” He winked at your withering glare. “You’re going to help me compose a song!”

“How is that going to cheer me up? I’m not poetic.” You grumbled. Venti clicked his tongue as he guided you away from the tavern and towards the cathedral.

“That is wildly untrue, Y/N! Everyone is capable of expressing themselves through poetry.” He argued.

“But I’m not good at rhyming or thinking of pretty words.” You countered. Venti sighed and gave your fingers an encouraging squeeze.

“That’s not what it’s about. No one said that poetry was meant to impress people. If it does, that’s a bonus, but the point is to shape your feelings. You write how you feel, not how you want to sound. If you don’t rhyme, that’s fine. If you want to use big words, then by all means! Short words are still words, and they can still carry your thoughts with them. There are no rules with it comes to poetry, no matter what some stuffy scholar might say.” He tugged your hand and pulled your arm up high, leading you into an impromptu twirl. Unable to help yourself, you fell into a fit of laughter that instantly lifted your mood.

“I guess you’re right, but that doesn’t make it any easier for me.” You followed along, a new spring in your step. Venti shrugged.

“Practice means progress!” He clearly wouldn’t allow you to wallow in your negativity, and you were quietly grateful for it. If there was anyone that could lift you out of a funk, no matter how deep and depressing it may be, it would be him. 

Venti lead you past the statue of Barbados and around the side of the cathedral, where he perched on the side of a stone railing. Beyond you sat the lake, it’s surface a constantly shifting sheet of vivid oranges, cheerful yellows, warm reds and sleepy blues. The sun was setting, and soon night would fall, but Venti didn’t seem concerned. If it didn’t worry him, then it didn’t worry you, so you found a seat beside him and made yourself comfortable.

“The breeze is nice.  .  .” You let your eyes fall closed, skin kissed by a gentle twirl of the air against your heated cheeks. You couldn’t see then how Venti’s lips quirked up subtly, an adoration in his eyes that not many earned. He watched you for all of one, still moment before your eyes opened and he was forced to look elsewhere.

“Yeah, it is. So!” Quick to discard the hammering in his chest, Venti pulled forward his lyre and cleared his throat. “About that song——”

“What is it about?”

“Unspoken love, the kind that lives in your chest and makes every moment spent with the person you adore both exciting and painful.” His fingers strummed one string, then another. You frowned, the first few notes squeezing at your heart.

“Why is it unspoken?” You wondered, keeping your voice low.

“Because, sometimes, confessing is more selfish and cruel than never saying anything at all. Because opening up one’s heart may lead to more pain than you first expect.” The melancholy notes only proved to add more hurt to your chest, but still the bard smiled.

“Do you really want to write a song that sad?” You weren’t sure that your flimsy mood could handle thinking about such a morose subject.

“Oh, don’t misunderstand, dear friend~ The reason for love’s silence is upsetting, but the love itself is anything but!” Venti began to swing his legs, and you felt the breeze pick up. Green eyes turned up towards the sky, while a subtle tinge of pink touched his cheeks. “I’ll think of the first few lines, then you chime in with whatever your lovely little mind and heart think of first. Alright?”

“If you say so.”

“Great!” Skilled fingers began to play, the heart of the music beating in time with your own. “I want it to start like this: I want always to treasure your warm soul and kind eyes.  .  .”

You waited for more, but were met with a calm quiet. A single glance from the bard, and you suddenly felt as is everyone in town could hear and see you. Face burning hot with embarrassment, you looked out towards water rather than at your companion.

“I want always to treasure your warm soul and kind eyes. Hmm.” You breathed in deep and muttered the first thing that came into your head. “Every smile and glance like a hard-earned prize.”

“Good! And you said you weren’t skilled at this.” Venti beamed, the sheer glee behind his praise lifting your mood higher still. “Let’s keep going. Next line: Your voice it rings like the sweetest prayer.  .  .”

You thought hard again, arms crossed tight and lips pursed. This was as difficult as you thought it might be, but Venti’s enthusiasm was infectious. So, again you offered the only words that rose to the top of your mind. “.  .  . a blessing from lips so fair.”

Venti hummed, the sound soft and low in his chest. “Indeed they are.”

“What?”

“Nothing! Moving on!” He slipped from the stone railing and came to stand in front of you, posture loose and playful even as he came dangerously close. “I adore you, I do. My heart is yours, it’s true. Little skips and steady pounding, my dear, you are astounding.”

Feeling him so near, his eyes mirthful and intent on you, you couldn’t help but to shrink into yourself a little. You grasped the railing you sat on and hunched your shoulders, eyes glued to your feet. If only those words were meant for you. Oh, but then what would you do?

“Is this meant to inspire other people to think of their love, or are you thinking of someone in particular?” You couldn’t and wouldn’t dare to hope, but you had to ask.

The strumming stopped, but you didn’t turn your gaze up.

“Perhaps I am,” Venti purred coyly, “why? Is there someone you’re thinking about?”

“Don’t be such an imp.” You kicked a foot out, but he was quick to step aside. Your aggression, though harmless, pulled a laugh from the bard. “I might be thinking of someone.”

“Who is it?” Venti pestered. “Do I know them?”

“Maybe.” You sported a cheeky smile of your own. Venti moved in an inch or two more to your side, leaving only a breadth of space between the two of you.

“Do they inspire you?” He asked. You sighed, completely unable to contain the need.

“He does.”

“Oh, so they’re a he, are they? That narrows it down.” He tittered and let himself play a soft, ambient tune. “Does he know how you feel?”

“No way!” You let out a bark of laughter. “Been trying to keep it a secret.”

“Why?” Venti blinked, appearing thoroughly baffled. “He should know!”

“What was it you said? Confessing is selfish sometimes.  .  .”

“Using my words against me. Cruel.” Venti sighed. “You really won’t tell him?”

“Not until it’s right, and not until I’m strong enough to accept the possibility that he might not feel the same.” Your smile was feeble and didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Chances come and go, away with the wind they blow, so I hold these lovelorn words inside my chest, never to be confessed.”

Venti frowned, watching as your fingers pressed and rubbed at the sudden ache right where your heart sat. His own reacted in kind, the horribly familiar grasp of doubt squeezing at his chest. He knew those thoughts and feelings all to well.

“In your heart the feelings run deep, but darling, don’t put them to sleep.” He reached out again when you dismissed his lyrics with a scoff, only this time you didn’t hesitate to place your hand in his. He didn’t drag you away from where you sat, but let his fingers slip between yours. Your heart stuttered a moment, the gentleness of the gesture filling you with gratitude and trace amounts of confusion.

The breeze picked up again, and you thought you could still hear the gentle song of the lyre despite him being preoccupied.

“Look at me.” He voice dropped to a whisper, so soft and airy that you almost didn’t catch it. But when you did, you bashfully locked your gaze with his. The sweetest smile pulled at his lips, the glimmer in his eyes so sincere that it made your own eyes prickle at the very corners.

Why did you have to fall for someone like him? Why couldn’t you have fallen for someone forgettable, or someone that wasn’t almost always within reach?

“Listen to my words, find them true, only a moron would reject you. You are wanted, loved and adored, you are more precious than any treasure hoard.” Venti arched himself forward, his forehead meeting with yours. Music continued to play in your ears, making the air around his words sweet. Could you believe them when they came from someone as flighty as him? You wanted desperately to, but you had to argue, to contest his open fondness for you.

“By the time the day is done, you’ll have said that to everyone.” You countered. Venti couldn’t hold back a laugh, his head moving away from yours. Already, you regretted sassing him. Come back, stay close.

“You’re getting better at that. While it’s true that I love to sing peoples praises, what I give you aren’t throwaway phrases. You’ve caught me, dear heart, and I want to surrender, allow me to bask in your unending splendor.”

You snorted and gave him a harmless shove. Venti grinned and gave in to your push, but he was near again in an instant.

“It can’t be that hard to believe that someone would love you. Don’t you believe me?” His question hung heavy in the air, leaving you momentarily speechless. Your mouth opened and closed, and each time your words failed you. Only after a long moment of listening to you stammer did Venti cautiously lean in. “Should I be selfish?”

“What does it mean for a bard to be selfish?” After a moment of mental screaming, you felt a smirk tease at your lips, but it was short lived. “Aside from drink all his wine before sharing it with someone?”

“Selfish bards do many, many things.” He spoke slowly, making sure each word dragged and lured you in. “I’ll admit it was silly to drink all the wine without you, but I can make up for it.”

You hummed contemplatively, each passing second tugging you closer and closer.

“How?”

“More wine?” He offered. You pulled a face.

“Mmmn, maybe. And?” Your mind was numb at this point, the idea that you two were so close making every inch of your body squirm. You had only daydreamed of sappy little scenarios like this, so living one out felt too good to be true. You were waiting to wake up, in fact, because this couldn’t be real. He couldn’t be tempting the idea of confessing to you when the entire world of Teyvat could offer him better.

“Songs written just for you?” Venti’s grin broadened, but there was a hitch in his breath when you nudged the tip of your nose against his.

“Anything else?” You egged him on, catching a flare of darker green in his eyes. He said nothing, but the way he moved his hand to touch your cheek spoke volumes. “How about a share of the apples you pick every day, or some mora, or——?”

“You’re talking too much.” He muttered, lips only a fraction away from yours.

“That’s rich coming from you.  .  .”

His breath was warm and welcome and mingled with yours for all of one second before you felt the notion of a kiss. It was then that the bell above the cathedral chimed, it’s proximity and the intensity of the clap jarring you and the bard from your shared trance. You jerked away, flushed and wide-eyed, while Venti clicked his tongue. Vexed, he glared up towards the cathedral.

“You can’t be serious.”

“I need to go.” You scrambled from your spot, heart hammering so hard in your ears that it almost drowned out the sounds of the bell. “I forgot to see Katheryne about the commission!”

Venti arched a brow. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really.” You vaulted over the railing and contemplated running off without another word, but it didn’t feel right. Rather than succumb to cowardice and embarrassment, you turned to face the bard. “Tomorrow. We’ll do this again, I promise, and.  .  .”

“And?”

“We’ll finish where we left off.”

“I was hoping you’d say that!”

[melting-tofu]

I find it weird not many people request Venti? His personality is really welcoming and he seems easy to get along with. QuQ if its not too much trouble can I request a fem reader with feels for venti? Like she had recently escaped her abusive family and the amount of kindness from him has her get feels?

It's true that I miss writing for Venti 👉👈

That is a sensitive topic so I won't go in depth of what happened in s/o's past 👌

I spent 75% my phone's battery to write this.

Note: Female reader, friends to lovers, very light angst(?)

---------

"(Name)~! Good morning!" a familiar voice calls to you. All you remember was Venti taking care of you wounds before you dozed off... that voice must belongs to him, yes? You slowly open your eyes, adjusting to the sudden brightness to finally recognize the person is indeed the tone-deaf bard. He doesn't have his hat on, and his hair isn't braided in its usual style, under the faint sunlight from the thin curtain his face looks prettier than ever which you can't help but stareー His smile grows bigger when your eyes land on him to make you snap from your fantasies, "Did you sleep well?" "I- I- u-uhh... Good morning. I did- thanks... w-what about you?" you can't stop stuttering now that you realize... he is laying next to you, in the same bed, he was there the whole night. "Saaaame, ehe~" Venti answers playfully as if he clearly knows what you are thinking. "You really don't remember what happened last night? Whatever that did, don't think much about it, you were asking me to stay with you so I simply granted your wish, that's it, no more, no less!"

Right, just that, no more, no less.

But it feels more than that to you. Venti could be playful, but he was always so kind and gentle to you since you first met, now he still is and he just seems to care about you more and more as time passes, even trusts you enough to tell you all sort of secrets of his. You never felt loved this much before, he is just painfully kind to you that sometimes you feel greedy and wish if you two were more than friends. As much as you want to tell him the truth, just looking at how close he is with a certain traveler, you choose to back off.

"Oh..? Thanks for staying with me."

Venti lets out a chuckle before noticing you bringing your bandaged hand up to straighten your hair. He quickly takes it in his when you let go, catching you by surprise, "Do you feel better now?" "It stings a little but Venti that-" Out of the blues, he leans down and gives it a kiss. Your eyes widen as you're completely speechless, just watch him linger there for a while, give it a few more until he pulls away. Without saying a single thing, he only looks up at you, grinning like how he usually does. And before you know it, your hand is now intertwined with his and his lips ghost over yours.

"I love you." whispered the bard before he catches you in a light, soft and innocent kiss. It doesn't last long, but for a moment it did feel like an eternity. He lets go, almost having you chasing after. "How about now, do you feel better?" his voice barely audible, loud enough for you to hear while caressing the cut behind the bandage of your hand with tender fingers. You open your eyes to look at him, the cheeky smirk on his face is now replaced with a gentle smile gets you smile back. "Mhm, I do now...

I love you too."

But it's still unbelievable, him, an Archon, somehow your very close friend, only helped you to clean your injuries then slept with you last night, which was totally unexpected because all you asked was for him to stay for a little longer and he could leave anytime when you were asleep, suddenly gave you affections in the morning and said he loves you.

---------

i just imagined venti with straight hair and i loved it already.

-> Navigation

[geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde]

Bygone Love

This is for @pearlll09 for @thewitchersecretsanta!

Fair warning, this is 6k+ words so here is the AO3 link, if you think it’s easier to read on there!

This is a Geraskier soulmate AU :) 

Happy holidays and I hope you enjoy!

-

Jaskier stared wistfully at the book in front of him, wishing it were true.

Those meant to be, linked by destiny, soulmates.

It was bullshit.

Maybe it hadn’t always been. All the stories say that soulmates just stopped appearing hundreds of years ago and no one knew why. However long ago it had been, there was very little record of it left. The book sitting in front of Jaskier is one of the only books left that tells anything about it.

And, while it isn’t a very detailed book, and has quite a few missing pages, what is there sounds lovely. The person you were meant to be with, your very souls linked, it’s romantic. The idea of there being someone who is your perfect match in every way was enticing. Someone who would love you as were, no need for you to bend or break yourself to make them happy.

Jaskier sighed, standing slowly, grabbing his bags and the book, and returning the book to the hook-nosed librarian that watched every Oxenfurt student with the utmost sense of distrust.

-

Jaskier’s final day as a student at Oxenfurt was bittersweet. His years there had been wonderful, his experiences grand, but now he would get to travel and truly make a name for himself.

The bard, Jaskier.

He would be a name known across the land, called upon by kings and queens. 

Strutting out of the city walls, a bright smile on his face, Jaskier looked in the direction of Lettenhove, his family’s lands. The smile slipped off his face. There would be nothing there for him, anymore. He wouldn’t be welcomed back with open arms, not as Viscount and certainly not as a bard.

Resolutely turning on his heel, Jaskier took the opposite path. He wasn’t exactly sure where it would lead him, but he was excited to find out. 

-

Six months on the road hadn’t exactly snuffed out Jaskier’s optimism but it had put a certain damper on it, being thrown rotten or stale food instead of coins was a bit disheartening after all, but still he persevered. He was currently playing in a tavern in Posada and the patrons were… nicer than a lot of the others he’d encountered the past few weeks.

Taking a break and gratefully collecting the stale bread thrown his way, Jaskier’s eyes skimmed the room, settling on a cloaked man seated in the corner.

Oh, he looks like trouble.

“I love the way you just… sit in the corner and brood.”

-

“Geralt,” Jaskier started one night, a few months into their travels, drawing the witcher’s attention, “how old are you?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow, staring silently at Jaskier.

“I only ask because I’ve heard witchers have long lifespans.”

Geralt cocked his head to the side, remaining silent.

Jaskier huffed in frustration, “There are some things I learned about at Oxenfurt but most of the information has been lost to time! I just thought you might have some further information on it, is all.”

“On what, bard?”

“Soulmates.”

Geralt snorted, “They don’t exist.”

“But they did!” argued Jaskier.

“Possibly,” Geralt agreed, “but they don’t now, so what is the point in wondering.”

Jaskier was indignant, “For the history, Geralt! The remaining texts are so few and old and damaged we don’t really know anything about them!”

“Well, I’m afraid I’m not that old. And we didn’t learn about soulmates in our studies, they weren’t important.”

Jaskier sighed, looking down at his hands, “Oh well, I suppose that’s that, then.”

The camp turned silent as Jaskier let his thoughts wander. It was a foolish dream, really… the idea of soulmates. 

-

Jaskier spent the rest of his year travelling with the witcher until finally autumn had arrived and it was time for the pair to part for winter, Geralt going north to somewhere secret and dangerous and Jaskier back to Oxenfurt to gloat about his wonderful travels to all those who doubted him.

Jaskier clapped Geralt on the back, smiling brightly, “Well, friend, this is it I suppose.” He would miss the witcher dearly, the past year travelling with Geralt had been the best time of Jaskier’s life.

“Hmm.”

Jaskier’s smile didn’t slip with Geralt’s taciturn response, more than used to it at this point, and instead continued with his farewells, “We can meet up again, as soon as the snow melts!”

“Great.” Geralt grunted.

“No need to sound so enthused Geralt.” Jaskier stated, hands on his hips.

And then they parted.

Jaskier turned on his heel and pulled his lute in front of him, ready to write a new ballad to commemorate the past year, and the hope for what the next year would bring with his new travelling companion, his new muse.

Halfway to Oxenfurt, Jaskier noticed a strange tickle in his nose, hopefully I’m not getting sick, he thought, dreading the possibility. His eyes were itching, and he was sniffling, sneezing occasionally, but he never developed a fever, so he wrote it off and continued on his travels.

-

This is getting ridiculous, Jaskier thought as he sneezed again. Not long after he and Geralt had parted ways, Jaskier’s allergies had begun acting up and even now, halfway through winter, they were still bothering him.

His eyes were sore and itchy, his head was stuffed, his nose was running constantly. Jaskier wouldn’t go so far as to say he was miserable, but he certainly wasn’t having a great time. He’d had allergies most of his life, come down with hay fever almost every spring, but never had he had such persistent symptoms and never had his allergies bothered him during winter. 

“Jaskier, just go see the healer.” Priscilla said, rolling her eyes as he blew his nose yet again. His best friend had been at the mercy of his complaining since he had returned to Oxenfurt and it was a wonder she was still being so nice to him.

“I’ve been, Pris. They said I’m fine.” And Jaskier had been to a healer, to two different healers in fact. They’d both said the same thing, common allergy symptoms, nothing to worry about. 

-

Geralt had almost reached Kaer Morhen, he would get to the gate by midday, when he noticed a strange pressure behind his eyes. Looking around, nothing seemed out of the ordinary, and his medallion wasn’t vibrating, so he continued on his path, expecting the pressure to dissipate by the time he reached the keep.

It didn’t.

By the time Geralt had reached the gates of Kaer Morhen the pressure in his head had increased and his nose felt full of cotton. Certain something was wrong, he hurried through the gate, rushing to the main doors and into the keep, not even properly stabling Roach.

Eskel was in the main hall and his head swung around to stare at Geralt, brow furrow as he watched Geralt's dramatic entrance. "Geralt! Welcome. Is something wrong?"

"Yes. I think I've been cursed." Geralt pushed past Eskel, heading straight to the kitchen where he could hear Vesemir moving around. 

As Geralt burst through the door, Vesemir continued his motions, stirring a pot filled with stew. Not looking up from his cooking, he addressed Geralt, "What kind of curse?"

"It's affecting my head."

Vesemir shot an unimpressed look over his shoulder at Geralt, "What do you mean? Be specific, Wolf."

Geralt growled, “There's a pressure building in my head and I can barely breathe through my nose."

Vesemir hummed thoughtfully, still stirring the pot in front of him, "And when did it start?" 

"On the pass, not far from the front gate." Geralt’s head was aching, the pressure seeming to build and build, it felt like his head would explode at any moment.

"And did your medallion vibrate?"

"No."

"And you had no symptoms prior to that?" Vesemir finally turned around, staring at Geralt.

"No."

"It doesn't sound like a curse."

Geralt growled again, angry at the dismissal, "My head feels as though it's going to explode!"

"Stop exaggerating." Vesemir responded curtly, far too used to the dramatics of his charges.

"Something could be wrong!” Geralt yelled, stepping forward and angrily gesturing to his head.

Vesemir levelled Geralt an unimpressed look, "Hush, boy. You're going to be fine. Get settled in and we'll figure out what's wrong after dinner. Whatever it is, it isn’t life threatening.”

Turning in huff, Geralt stormed out of the kitchen and past Eskel where he had been hovering by the door. If they wouldn’t take him seriously then he would figure out what was wrong himself.

After he settled Roach.

-

Dinner was tense, Geralt in pain and Vesemir ignoring him. Lambert had yet to arrive so Eskel sat beside Geralt, uncomfortably glancing between Geralt and Vesemir as if he were unsure of what to do, if he should say something or not. 

Geralt's head ached every time he moved, especially when he leaned down. If he tilted his head back, the pressure behind his eyes made it feel like they would explode from his skull. 

Vesemir ate silently, focused on the meal in front of him and saying nothing until he had finished.

"How does your throat feel?"

Geralt startled at the question, looking across the table and meeting Vesemir's eyes, "Ummm… it's sore. It hurts to swallow, like I'm swallowing knives."

Geralt sniffled.

Vesemir's eyebrows drew together as he studied Geralt, "It seems as though you have allergies, Wolf."

"You think I have allergies?" Geralt asked as he took in what Vesemir was saying. 

"It sounds like allergies."

"Allergies?" Eskel chimed in. "I haven't heard of witchers suffering from allergies."

Vesemir hummed thoughtfully, "I can't think of a time in recent history one did."

"Why would I have allergies?"

"A few things come to mind but none that seem likely. The best idea is to probably look through the library. Eskel and Lambert will help."

Eskel nodded and leaned toward Geralt, bumping their shoulders together, "We'll figure this out."

Geralt ignored Eskel and glared at Vesemir, "It feels like my head is being crushed by a boulder and the best you can offer is I should read some books?"

Vesemir stared back at Geralt, his face impassive, before standing up wordlessly and exiting the kitchen. 

-

Lambert arrived later in the week and was quickly swept away to join Eskel and Geralt in the library where they had set up. 

They had pushed two tables together and there were piles of books stacked across it, organized by Eskel in some manner that only made sense to him. 

Eskel and Geralt had been spending their mornings training and working around the keep and then retired to the library nightly, trying to find mention of witchers with allergies.

The three witchers were reading in silence but for the occasional grunt from Lambert when Eskel sucked in a sharp breath, “Hey I found something.”

Lambert looked up lazily from the book he had been staring at while pretending to read, “Is he contagious? I don’t want to catch whatever he has.”

Geralt growled at Lambert before standing from his chair and walking over to Eskel, “What does it say?”

“Well…” Eskel started hesitantly, still staring at the book, “I’m not sure if this is really what’s wrong with you but it’s the only thing we’ve found so far.”

“What is it Eskel?” Geralt asked again, growing impatient.

“It says that when unbound or broken soulmates are parted, they would experience allergy and cold symptoms until they came together again.”

Geralt furrowed his brow, “Soulmates?”

Eskel nodded.

“You think I have a soulmate?” 

Lambert snorted, “That would be cruel, forcing someone to put up with this grumpy bastard for eternity.”

Eskel shook his head, “No that isn’t how soulmates work. There’s someone who is made for you but you still have the choice, you can either accept the bond with a handfasting or perform the ritual to break the bond. Either one would allow you to travel away from each other without getting sick anymore, but until the soul bond is acknowledged one way or the other, you get sick.”

“Eskel, do you really think I have a soulmate? Soulmates haven’t been seen for centuries!”

Eskel huffed, “I know it doesn’t really make sense but it’s the only thing I’ve found!”

Geralt sighed, “I think we should keep looking, I don’t have a soulmate, Eskel.”

“Alright, I’ll add this book to the useless pile, then.” Eskel stood slowly to walk across the room to a large pile of books he had created to reshelve. 

Geralt hesitated, “Wait… is the whole book about soulmates?”

Eskel looked back to Geralt with his eyebrows raised, “Yes.”

“Can I have it?” Geralt asked, reaching out his hand for the book.

Eskel stared at Geralt, a confused look furrowing his brow, “Why would you want it?”

Geralt wasn’t sure how to respond. He had never travelled with someone before and his brothers were certain to question him about it. And there was also the chance they had heard that stupid song. “Ahh… a bard I was travelling with asked me if I had any knowledge of them because the human texts were all mostly destroyed.”

“You travelled with a bard?” Lambert cut in harshly.

“And you want to bring him a present?” Eskel asked, in a far softer voice than the one Lambert had used. 

Lambert stood up suddenly, “Wait, that song about tossing a coin! That was about you!”

Geralt groaned, his already pounding head throbbing even more at the idea of having this conversation, “Yes.”

Lambert let out a loud bray of laughter, “I should have known! Of course, you managed to find yourself a bard to sing your praises, you vain bastard.” 

Geralt rolled his eyes, causing another wave of pain to shoot through his head, and looked back to Eskel, ignoring Lambert still chuckling behind him. Eskel had walked back over to Geralt, book in hand, and he finally held it out to Geralt. Geralt took the book tentatively and nodded in thanks. 

Eskel was staring at Geralt consideringly, “How long did you travel with your bard?”

“He isn’t mine.”

Eskel rolled his eyes, “Yeah, whatever. How long?”

“Most of the year.” Geralt answered shortly, unsure where this line of questioning was going.

Eskel made a considering noise, “Did you two just split for the winter?”

Geralt nodded, “Yes, he headed back to Oxenfurt and I came straight here.”

Eskel hummed softly, his eyes wandering over the books still piled high on the table, “I don’t know how much information we’ll find in those; we’ve read all the books that were most likely to help.”

“Does that mean I don’t have to help anymore?” Lambert chimed in.

Eskel snorted and shot an unimpressed look at Lambert, “That would suggest you were any help to begin with.”

Lambert scoffed, “I was plenty help. Moral support and all that.”

Eskel directed his attention back to Geralt, “Geralt it might be best to just… find a healer or a mage when you leave for spring. I’m not confident these books will have answers. Perhaps you could head to Oxenfurt and meet up with your bard, the scholars there might have answers.”

“Do you really think we won’t find an answer?” Geralt had been worried he wouldn’t find out what was wrong with him since Vesemir had first dismissed him.

Eskel shook his head and smiled sadly, “I think we’ve found all the answers that are here.”

Geralt furrowed his brow, unsure of what Eskel meant, “What answers have we found?”

“I’m not completely sure. But I’m sure you’ll find out come spring.” Eskel walked past Geralt and quickly exited the library, leaving Geralt and Lambert staring dumbfounded after him.

“What the fuck was that supposed to mean?” Lambert finally asked. “He gets more cryptic every year. One of these days he’s going to show up and talk only in Nilfgaardian riddles.”

-

The winter had been long and far less restful than any year before. Geralt’s symptoms hadn’t improved though they at least hadn’t gotten worse. 

This year, Geralt was the last to leave Kaer Morhen, wanting the opportunity to talk to Vesemir privately. Their relationship had stayed distant this winter, though it had gotten less hostile. But it didn’t seem right, Vesemir didn’t act like this normally, he had to be keeping something from Geralt. 

Geralt cleared his throat as he gazed across the courtyard at Vesemir, “I’m ready to go.”

Vesemir nodded at him, “Travel well, Wolf. I’ll see you next winter.”

Geralt took a deep, steadying breath, “Did I do something wrong?”

Vesemir frowned and walked closer to Geralt, “No, Wolf. I just worry for you. But I’m confident you’ll find your answer back out on the road.” Vesemir quickly drew Geralt in for a hug, squeezing him tightly. Geralt returned the embrace briefly before pulling away.

“Travel well, Vesemir. I’ll see you next winter.” And with a nod, Geralt mounted Roach and set off out of the gate, his path to Oxenfurt laid out clearly in his mind.

-

Geralt wasn't sure how long he had been able to breathe through his nose by the time he finally noticed the difference. It was strange that it hadn't been more obvious of a change since he had gone the entire winter with his nose stuffed and runny. 

His sense of smell heightening was the only thing that really drew his attention to the change. He had worried the difficulties he might encounter on the Path with his senses dulled, but when he'd approached the bridge leading to Oxenfurt, suddenly the smells overwhelmed him. 

"Woah, Roach." Geralt urged Roach to slow down while he took a moment to gather himself, adjusting to the sudden difference. As he waited, he could feel as his head became clearer and clearer, all the pressure slowly dissipating. His sense of smell returned full force and his hearing became more acute. Geralt let out a sigh of relief, he had almost forgotten what it was like to have his senses so sharp. 

He would still need to find a mage to make sure this never happened again but with his senses returned he needn't be in as much of a hurry. "C'mon Roach," Geralt guided Roach back to the road leading into Oxenfurt, trying to think of where he might find Jaskier. 

He hadn't had to look for long, simply meandering down the street when he heard a commotion ahead. He dismounted and led Roach behind him as he approached the shouting, breaking through the circle of onlookers to see Jaskier and another man arguing. 

"Because you're wrong!" Jaskier shouted, waving his arms wildly. 

Geralt took in the situation in front of him slowly. Jaskier was flushed, his chest puffing heavily from his ragged breathing. He looked livid, his eyes shooting daggers at the man in front of him. 

And the man in front of Jaskier looked… well… a lot like Jaskier. His hair was darker, black instead of brown, but cut in a similar fashion. His eyes were also a brilliant blue though deeper than the bright cornflower of Jaskier's. Unlike Jaskier's clean shaven face, the other man had a full mustache, covering his entire upper lip. That's where the differences seemed to stop, though. Their build was the same, long and lanky yet deceptively strong, they had the same jaw line, the same cheek bones, the same nose. Jaskier had never mentioned family but this must be a brother. 

Geralt watched amusedly as the two men taunted each other until finally Jaskier charged forward, clearly ready to attack the other man. Moving swiftly, Geralt put himself between Jaskier and the other man, gripping Jaskier by the shoulders to prevent him from going around Geralt. Jaskier huffed and yanked himself backward, out of Geralt's grip, looking up at the man who had been holding him. 

It was clear he hadn't expected Geralt to be standing there when his mouth dropped open in shock. "Geralt! So good of you to stop by. Here, let's get out of here, the riffraff is out of control." Jaskier glared over Geralt's shoulder and grabbed Geralt by the arm, leading Geralt back to Roach. 

Geralt followed silently, amusedly listening to Jaskier's grumbling the whole way until they reached a small inn and Jaskier led them upstairs to what must have been his room over winter. 

“That bastard!” Jaskier grunted as soon as Geralt had closed the door behind them.

“Hmm.” Geralt watched in silence as Jaskier slammed his things around, seeming to move his bags and clothes for no purpose other than to throw them in irritation.

“Honestly, the bastard had the nerve to insinuate that he is more attractive than I am! Me! As if he isn’t the ugliest cock on the planet. I swear Geralt even the thought someone might find him attractive is horrendous.”

Geralt cocked his head curiously, “Are you two not related?”

Jaskier looked horrified, “Related? To that thing? Gods no.”

Geralt suddenly felt confused, the man was practically Jaskier’s twin. “Jaskier, you look just like him.”

Jaskier gazed at Geralt for a moment, a dumbfounded expression on his face, before finally he started cackling, laughing so hard he collapsed on the bed behind him.

Geralt was unsure of what was happening.

Finally, Jaskier’s laughter slowed, “Darling,” Jaskier started, still chuckling to himself slightly, “that was the funniest joke you’ve ever made. The idea of I and Valdo Marx looking anything alike is truly, absolutely hilarious. Oh, thank you, Geralt. I needed that laugh. Especially after the winter I’ve had.”

Geralt was still very much confused, positive his eyes hadn’t been playing tricks on him when he’d seen this Valdo Marx character, and sure that he and Jaskier did in fact look very similar. Deciding to not continue with the matter for the moment, Geralt decided to direct the conversation elsewhere, “And why was your winter so terrible?”

Jaskier threw his arms up dramatically and laid back on the bed, staring at the ceiling, “I was sick! The whole time. As if I had a cold. It started right after we parted and continued all the way until this very morning. All the healers said it just seemed to be my allergies. Honestly, Geralt I think I may have been cursed.”

Geralt froze, frowning at Jaskier’s words. Allergies? All winter. Starting just after the two had parted. Thinking back to the book currently resting in Roach’s saddlebags, Geralt shook his head, silently telling himself it was just an odd coincidence. “Sounds odd, bard. Perhaps you slept with the wrong person and their spouse decided on some petty revenge.”

Jaskier hummed thoughtfully, still staring at the ceiling, “Perhaps. It certainly was petty in that case. I had a sore throat all winter, I was barely able to sing.”

“Hmm”

Jaskier rolled to his side on the bed, staring curiously at Geralt, still standing awkwardly in front of the door, “Well, how was your winter then? And what brings you to Oxenfurt? Did you miss me, you scamp?”

Geralt rolled his eyes at the smirk on Jaskier’s face, “Winter was winter, the same as every other year. I’m here looking for a mage or a scholar well versed in curses.”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up the way they always did when he was about to get into something, he had no business messing with, “Ohhh what kind of curse.”

“Never you mind.” The last thing Geralt needed was Jaskier learning that Geralt was also sick all winter. He would make a big deal of the coincidence even without knowing what Geralt did.

“Excuse me, Geralt but I mind very much, thank you.”

Geralt remained quiet.

Finally, Jaskier snorted, “Alright well, lucky you, I happen to know a retired professor that specialized in curses and things of the sort. Not a sorceress herself, mind you, but interested in it.”

-

Jaskier led them through the streets of Oxenfurt, babbling a mile a minute, “She is very old, positively ancient, possibly even older than you. No one is quite sure how she’s still alive, or her actual age for that matter, but as she taught most of the professors that taught my professors, it’s sufficient to say that she’s been around a while. She’s also quite crotchety but she likes my singing so that should help us get some information out of her. What exactly are we asking her about again?”

Leave it to Jaskier to try to wheedle the information out of Geralt after wearing him down with a bit of rambling. Luckily, Geralt had spent nearly a year with the man already and had built up a tolerance to the man’s sneaky ways. “It doesn’t concern you, bard.”

Hopefully.

The very thought that Jaskier could be his… well… no that certainly didn’t make any sense. None whatsoever. Hopefully this wise woman would be able to identify what the problem is, and he could solve it quickly and move on.

And hopefully it would have absolutely nothing to do with Jaskier. 

Nothing at all. 

And absolutely nothing to do with the absurd idea of soulmates.

Geralt would never be able to give the book to Jaskier. If Geralt had managed to draw the connection then certainly Jaskier would as well, whether Geralt mentioned having the same symptoms during their time apart or not.

Geralt was pulled from his reverie by Jaskier drawing to a halt suddenly and opening his arms, wide, “We have arrived, my dearest witcher.”

The house was small, tucked in between a pawn shop and a sketchy looking apothecary. It was the type of house it was easy to miss, would be overlooked if you weren’t looking for it specifically. Jaskier let himself in the house, not bothering to knock, so Geralt followed quietly, feeling uneasy, though he wasn’t sure why. His medallion wasn’t vibrating and there wasn’t anything particularly strange about the front room of the house, but something didn’t seem quite right.

“Jaskier are you certain we should be here?” Geralt whispered his question, unwilling to disturb any occupants of the house.

Jaskier, however, was not as worried about disturbing anyone and responded loudly, “Of course, Geralt. I’ve a standing invitation.”

Geralt cautiously followed Jaskier further into the house, unsure of what to expect. In the last room of the house there was an old woman, sitting in a chair by a window, knitting quietly. When they entered the room, she glanced up curiously, a small smile on her face as she looked at Jaskier. 

“I was wondering when you would come find me with questions.” The woman’s voice was surprisingly deep, hoarse as if she spent her days smoking away at a pipe. 

“Were you?” Jaskier asked, shooting Geralt a strange look.

The woman hummed, “Yes. As soon as I saw your symptoms this winter. I’m glad you have been reunited though.”

Geralt felt a shock run through him, she couldn’t possibly mean…

“You know why I was sick?” Jaskier’s voice was higher than usual, sounding incredulous.

“Do you not?”

“No!” Jaskier exclaimed dramatically. 

“Ahh..” she stared at Geralt for a moment before looking back at Jaskier, “there’s no need to worry about it. Your witcher will explain everything.”

Jaskier spun around, “Geralt?”

He sighed, suddenly unsure of what to do, “I have everything I needed Jaskier. Let’s go back.”

“Go back? We came here to ask questions about a curse! You didn’t even ask anything. Oh… were we here about my curse? Was I actually cursed?”

“Come along, Jaskier.” Geralt turned on his heel, quickly leaving the house. He heard Jaskier hustling behind him.

Geralt led them back up to Jaskier’s inn room, Jaskier puffing behind him from keeping up with Geralt’s faster than normal stride. “Geralt what is going on?’

Instead of responding, Geralt rifled through his bags and pulled out the book he had previously decided to chuck in a river so Jaskier would never see it. Turning to face Jaskier, Geralt’s heart was racing. He had faced monsters out of nightmares, stared death in the face, but the idea that the contents in this book could be true, the idea that Jaskier could be his soulmate was horrifying. 

Holding out the book slowly, Geralt watched warily as Jaskier snatched it from his hands, his eyes roaming over the cover. “Soulmates?”

“I found it at Kaer Morhen and brought it for you, I thought you might like it. But now it might be important.”

Jaskier’s eyes shone brightly, “You brought it because you thought I might like it?”

“Yes.”

“What makes it important now?” Jaskier was looking back at the book, fingers tracing the cover carefully.

Geralt’s heart was pounding in his ears, “Just… read it.”

Jaskier looked back at Geralt, concern on his face, “Okay.”

Jaskier crossed the room to sit at the table and opened the book. Geralt stayed motionless, watching as Jaskier eagerly devoured page after page of information he had been so interested in for years. It was clear to Geralt when Jaskier reached the part Geralt was most afraid of. Instead of Jaskier moving on to the next page, Jaskier’s eyes slowly worked their way back to the start of the page and he read the same section again, slower this time. 

“Geralt,” Jaskier started, his eyes not moving off the page in front of him, “are you telling me that my allergies this winter were because I have a soulmate?”

Geralt grunted, unsure of what to say.

Jaskier looked up at Geralt suddenly, his face wary, “And who exactly is my soulmate in this scenario? Who else had the same symptoms while they were away from me for the length of winter?”

Geralt felt his face reddening, an uncharacteristic blush blooming. 

Jaskier stood slowly, placing the book down on the chair as he abandoned it, “Geralt were you sick this winter?”

Geralt nodded.

"Oh." Jaskier sounded breathless.

Geralt didn't know what to say, floundering in the silence. Usually, Jaskier was the one to fill the void, to put words where there was once silence. Instead, Jaskier remained silent for a beat, simply staring at Geralt, before turning back and grabbing the book, returning to his seat. Jaskier opened the book again with shaky hands and once again began reading. 

Their breathing and slightly too fast heart beats were the only sounds in the room as Geralt stood motionless, waiting for Jaskier to do something, say something. But Jaskier simply sat, reading studiously, while Geralt waited. 

It felt like ages by the time Jaskier closed the book, finally looking back up at Geralt. "Well, if we intend to travel anywhere from each other, I think it would be best to perform the ceremony."

Geralt's heart dropped, "Of course. We'll have to research the proper way to do it, I'm not sure if we'll need a mage."

Jaskier stood from his seat, walking to stand directly in front of Geralt, "Geralt, it says a simple handfasting will suffice."

Geralt didn't understand, a handfasting didn't seem like a practical way to end a soul bond, "A handfasting? To break the bond?"

"Break the bond? Why would we do something silly like that? Do you… not want to be bound to me?"

Bound to Jaskier, their souls intertwined, it sounded nice. But it wasn't realistic, Geralt was a witcher and Jaskier a bard. Clearly their souls couldn't have meant to be linked. "Do I not… Jaskier you can't want this! I'm a witcher. My life is dangerous."

"Well yes but that hasn't stopped me yet, and I don't intend to let it. Besides, the slowed aging will be a big plus for me." Jaskier sounded matter of fact, putting his hands on his hips and staring at Geralt as if it were obvious.

"Slowed aging?"

"Yes Geralt, slowed aging. The book said very clearly that those soul bonded to witchers experienced slowed aging like that of the witcher. Did you not finish the book?"

"I didn't read it." Maybe he should have read through the book, to understand more about what was going on, more about his bond with Jaskier. Geralt hadn’t felt so out of his depth in a long time.

Jaskier sounded incredibly unimpressed when he responded, "You didn't read… any of it?"

"No."

Jaskier whined, "Geralt. You suspected we could be soulmates and you didn't even read the book?"

Of course he hadn’t expected that! The very idea that they could be soulmates was ridiculous. He hadn’t even considered it to be an option. "No! I brought the book because I thought you would like it. I didn't think that was what was wrong with me. I didn't know you were sick."

Jaskier was silent, his face contemplative as he stared at Geralt. His response was so quiet, Geralt was unsure he would have heard it without his enhanced hearing, "Is it… really so awful of an idea? Being my soulmate?"

It wasn’t an awful idea at all, it was… nice actually. But that didn’t mean it was right, it couldn’t possibly be. Jaskier didn’t deserve to be stuck with a witcher for the rest of his life, "No, Jaskier… it just… it can't be right. I can't be bound to someone like you and you shouldn't be stuck with someone like me."

“Well, I stuck myself to you long before we knew about this soul bond business, so I don’t see what’s so different. Unless you wish to be rid of me.” The last sentence was hushed, like Jaskier hadn’t even wanted to say it. 

When Jaskier had first started following Geralt, the witcher had definitely wanted rid of him. He was loud and annoying and impractical. He caused chaos everywhere he went, rarely thought of his actions before making a decision, and always managed to put himself directly in harm's way. But the bard had grown on Geralt. Every time he started a tavern fight out of righteous anger on Geralt’s behalf or talked down an alderman trying to short Geralt his owed coin, or ran headfirst into danger to foolishly protect Geralt, Geralt felt a bit more fond of Jaskier. And considering how often Jaskier did all of those things, Geralt was fit to burst with his fondness for the man.

Geralt rubbed a hand over his eyes, “No, I don’t… wish to be rid of you. But Jaskier, you can’t know what you’re agreeing to. You’re young, you have your whole life ahead of you. My path doesn’t need to be yours.”

Jaskier’s body language screamed how indignant he felt at Geralt’s statement, “But I want it to be! I wanted to walk The Path with you last year and I haven’t changed my mind.”

Even if Jaskier meant it, and never changed his mind, he didn’t know if he would ever be what Jaskier wanted. Jaskier was young and the idea of grand love thanks to a soul bond must sound enticing, but that wasn’t Geralt. Witchers weren’t supposed to feel, it was dangerous, made them weak. Jaskier deserved that grand love but Geralt couldn’t be sure he could ever give that, “Jaskier… I’m not… I don’t know how to be in a relationship. I’m not sure I ever will… be able to be that for you.”

Jaskier’s face softened and he reached out to take hold of Geralt’s hands, “I like you just as you are, Geralt. We can figure out everything else as we go.”

Geralt felt something in him break. He wanted to be stronger, strong enough to turn Jaskier away, for his own good, but more than that he wanted to be loved. “Are you sure you want this?” Geralt’s voice cracked as he asked, one final time, simultaneously hoping Jaskier would say no, but dreading the idea of losing the bard.

Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s hands, “Do you?”

“Travelling with you last year was… different. It was good… to share The Path with someone. With you.” Geralt had never felt more vulnerable than he did in that moment, staring into Jaskier’s eyes. 

“I wouldn’t trade the time I’ve spent with you for the world, and I want to keep spending time with you.” Jaskier hesitated, “If you’ll let me.”

“We… will have to get handfasted then? If we don’t break the bond?” Geralt really needed to read that book.

Jaskier nodded, “Yes, either that or never separate from each other.”

An outward sign of the bond the two shared… Geralt liked the idea, “I think… that handfasting would be okay.”

“Just okay?”

“It would be… nice. I suppose.”

Jaskier chuckled at Geralt’s response, “When should we do it? We could go now if you wanted?”

They could go right then, there was sure to be someone in Oxenfurt, probably many someones, that knew how to perform the ceremony, but it didn’t feel right. “Could we… wait for winter?”

Jaskier furrowed his brow and cocked his head to the side, “I mean… we can. We would have to be careful about parting through the year though.”

It was impractical, Geralt knew, but it was something he never thought he would experience. And he wanted to do it at Kaer Morhen, “Just… I think I would like Vesemir to be there. And Eskel and Lambert.”

Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s hand reassuringly, “Okay. May I ask who they are?”

“They’re my… family. Fellow witchers. We winter together.”

Suddenly Jaskier’s eyes were filled with tears and Geralt was worried he had done something wrong.

“Oh. Yes, that would be lovely, I think.” Jaskier finally responded, his voice thick like he was trying not to cry.

“Really?”

Jaskier nodded and pulled his hands from Geralt’s, instead drawing him into a tight hug, “Yes, darling. Really.”

-

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