NOTE: You don't always have to use an alternative to said in order to get your point across! Please avoid overusing dialogue tags, and remember to spice things up in other ways.
"Magic cares about what something means, not what it literally is. So when we adopted you into this family, when you truly accepted us as your parents, you became part of it in the eyes of magic. Which is why you've begun to manifest some aspects of our bloodline."
Summary: The bard has written a song about you. And it has given you a lot to think about.
Author's note: It's a late night thought I've had for a while. Jaskier has always been my favorite character in both the Witcher games, books and the tv show. I wanted to give him a bit of honor by writing this :) —also a little Skyrim reference cuz im not creative in song writing.
Warning: platonic love, fluff, kind of a bittersweet ending.
As Jaskier strummed the strings of his lute, he hummed the tune of a popular ballad. "Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart…" he sang but then paused mid-verse, his forehead creasing in concentration. "I tell you, I tell you, the Witcher comes- no, that does not sound so good," he muttered.
You couldn't help but chuckle at him. You busied yourself with grooming your loyal steed, Melorax. The horse stood still, contentedly munching on bits of hay. While you brushed off dust and dirt from his coat, you could see the tiny frown written on Jaskier's face as he tried to come up with a better verse for his song.
Curious, you asked him, "Who is this hero exactly?"
Jaskier looked up, glad for the distraction. "Ah, well," he said, his fingers stilling on the lute. "It's just a tale, my friend. A story of a brave warrior who fights for justice and honor."
You nodded, understanding the stories that Jaskier shared with you during your travels as a Witcher. Tales like these were always inspiring and entertaining. Jaskier had been your companion for quite a while now, and you had grown fond of his musical talents and witty banter. He would often compare your kinder nature to his friend Geralt, who hailed from a different Witcher school whom you had heard of but never met. After grooming Melorax, you approached the front of the horse and kissed his soft muzzle. The horse whinnied softly, and you smiled at him, feeling content.
"You know I just hunt monsters for coin," you recall, sitting near him as you started the small bonfire.
"Well, yes. But, Y/n of Verden makes a good song subject. Don't you think?" Jaskier smiled widely at you as you put your hands near the fire for warmth. His fingers began strumming on his lute, calmly humming with the tune of his renowned instrument.
You began to listen closely.
"With a silver sword gleaming and signs so fierce and cold…" Jaskier sang, "Believe, believe, the Stag of Verden has told."
"Stag?" You asked sheepishly, looking over at him with an expression of confusion.
"Umm… do you prefer to be called deer?" Jaskier asked sheepishly.
"Just confused with the Stag part…" you replied.
"Well, you remind me of a stag."
"How so?" You asked.
"Well, you're strong, very resilient, and almost similar to that of a protector of the realm," Jaskier beamed with poetic pride.
Upon hearing those words, a sense of pride and appreciation washed over you. It was rare for a Witcher to receive such positive recognition, as they are empty vessels of beings whose sole purpose was to slaughter monsters and collect payment. Being regarded as a hero was a new and unexpected experience for you. However, it was evident that most people still saw you as an exterminator who only existed to rid the world of dangerous pests rather than a true hero. All you let out was a slight chuckle.
Jaskier turned his head towards you, and his eyes met yours. He noticed the corners of your mouth curling up, and your eyes sparkled. Curious, he leaned slightly to his right and tilted his head, trying to catch a glimpse of what had caused this reaction in you. "What's so funny, Y/n?" he asked, his voice full of genuine interest and amusement.
"Oh, nothing," you jested.
With a look of concern on the bard's face, he turned his gaze back towards his musical instrument, the loot. He asked in a questioning tone, "Is there something wrong with my song? Don't you like it?"
"I assure you that I like it," you said to the worried songwriter before returning to warm your hands by the fire. "Please continue."
Jaskier's face lit up with joy as he responded, "As you wish." He meticulously plucked the strings of his lute, producing a melody that seemed to flow effortlessly from his fingers. His body swayed with the rhythm, and it was clear from his performance that he was a true virtuoso of his craft.
"In the heart of the woodlands, where shadows dance and play
Beware, beware, the Stag is on her way
For monsters she'll conquer, with every foe she'll slay
You'll know, you'll know, the Stag brings light to the gray."
You were captivated as the bard plucked at the strings of his lute, his voice soft and sweet as honey. The music wrapped around you like a warm embrace, easing the tension in your body and calming your mind. The bard's songs were beautiful masterpieces of melody and meaning. What impressed you the most was how his music seemed to capture the essence of the world around you, bringing to life the sights and sounds of your travels in a way that words alone never could. Being a Witcher often meant living a life of solitude and danger. It made you feel isolated and alone. But having the bard by your side changed everything. His easy conversation and quick wit were a constant source of comfort and amusement, and you eagerly looked forward to every new adventure with him by your side.
By the end, you knew you could never repay the bard for all he had given you, but you were grateful nonetheless.
"You know one thing," you thought to him, "you remind me of a Warbler."
The bard chuckled at you with his sweet smile, "a warbler?"
"Yeah, those birds that sing a lot," you recalled.
As you reminisce about your childhood, your mind wanders back to when you were a young girl, growing up in a Witcher school. Life wasn't easy for you, especially since you were a frail child with a mother who struggled to provide for you. Days at school could be long and tiring, and you often find yourself exhausted by the end of them.
One particular memory that stands out to you is the sound of the Warblers that would perch on the window sill of your room. Their melodic songs would echo through the walls, piercing your ears and keeping you awake at night. You would try to drown out the noise by covering your ears with your pillow, but it was no use - the Warblers always seemed to find a way to sing their way into your thoughts. Despite the annoyance they caused, however, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and familiarity in their presence. After all, they had been a constant presence in your life for as long as you could remember.
"They were annoying when I was young," You scoffed playfully, "I hated listening to them sing whenever I wanted some peace. Now that I'm older, I wish they still sang to me," you look at the burning bonfire as the warmth engulfed the front of your body. “I like your songs, jaskier, even if you played the same tune for a week. I won’t get tired of you.”
"Huh…" Jaskier gave your statement some thought, "I've never had anyone think of me that way." He sat over next to the fire, feeling a bit cold.
"Why? May I ask," You cocked a brow at him.
"I'm a bit of an exasperation and––" Before Jaskier could continue, he stopped himself. He could ruin his godly reputation in front of you, and he did not want that.
"A skirt-chaser?" You continued.
"Oh- No, no, not that," you can sense the embarrassment that overcame his confidence.
"right, alright," A mischievous chuckle escaped your lips as you heard the mention of the notorious bard. His reputation preceded him, and you couldn't help but be amused. Word on the street was he had a knack for breaking up marriages or being the third person for sleeping with married men's wives. You won't deny it. Jaskier was handsome and quite the romantic.
The atmosphere was serene as if the world had a standstill. Not a sound except for the gentle rustling of leaves as the wind passed through the trees. "Can you sing me a song, Jaskier?" You asked, "Please?"
As Jaskier continued his endless string of tales, you couldn't help but politely express your reluctance to hear more. In response, Jaskier flashed a sweet smile and said, "Yes, you may, Y/n."
One day, Jaskier won't be around you. One day, you won't ever see him again, and it will be just you and Melorax on the lonely road. It could happen tomorrow, or it could be years from now. You tried not to dwell on that possibility, but it was always there lingering at the edges of your consciousness. But that did not matter now. It was a love that grew deep inside you that you have never felt. It's a companionship that was a strange yet familiar feeling. One day, he will see you as a monster like everyone else did when they saw you. Despite this, You listened intently to his stories and musings, even when they seemed nonsensical or meandering. You laughed at his jokes and marveled at his wit. You knew these moments were precious, and you never took them for granted because you will never know when that moment will end.
A/n: hey guys :) I apologize if my interpretation of Jaskier and the Witcher universe had errors. I was busy with school to read the books and watch the show for extra context and accuracy and did this all by itself. Overall, im unite happy with how this turned out.
happy ten years to the movie that if it never came out i wouldve had a wife and kids and a husband and a phD and a pulitzer prize and a house by now. i couldve been somebody but unfortunately ‘im your friend’ ‘youre my mission’ ‘then finish it. cuz im with you till the end of the line’ so.
Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader x Snapped!Bucky Barnes: Torture
Summary: It never gets any easier.
Rating/Warnings/Tags: T (Steve/Peggy; Past!Steve/Reader; Post-Snap fic; set during canon events of Avengers: Endgame; Natasha & Reader friendship; referenced Steve & Bucky friendship; referenced Sam & Steve friendship; angst; grief; loss)
Challenge: “160 Collective Drabbles” challenge by BobaPop on Lunaescence Archives.
Torture
The world was so much louder after half its population vanished. Before all those people disappeared, you would have thought their absence a welcome respite from all the noise. Fewer people, fewer emergencies, fewer commotions, right? Instead all that empty space amplified every remaining sound tenfold. You couldn’t stand it inside Avengers HQ. Everything echoed: voices, footsteps…whenever there was anything to echo at all, that was.
gummygunk
kianamaiart
