#filedfangs

[howsmysinging-archived]

@filedfangs​ liked for a starter~

Jaskier had been surprised by the question, in truth. He figured Geralt would be so wrapped up in his own doings that it would hardly even occur to him. Not that he would’ve blame him. He’d lost more and more of his family. The state of his own situation was far lesser than Geralt’s.

So, he’d shrug before looking toward him with a feigned grin.

“Oh, y’know. Gone. Likely being used firewood for some sod, ‘r something. Figured you’d relish in the silence. I’ll have to see if I can scrounge up the coin to buy another... And lutes aren’t particularly cheap, unfortunately. Ones of superior quality, especially,”

[fckingbard]

@filedfangs​ liked for a starter

“I’m not saying we need to stop in EVERY village! Just ONE. One little village.” The bard’s complaints were for no one in particular. It was the Witcher’s own unfortunate fault that he was the only soul around to listen. “Remember beds, Geralt? Remember pies? Gods, I miss pies. Gravy. Wine. A nice little tavern filled with handsome travellers and pies.” 

[lilacsweet]

RANDOM DIALOGUE // accepting // @filedfangs​ sent — 💬

     “What do you remember about your mother?”

[starsinshadows]

@filedfangs​​ caught up with the Winter Soldier...

     "I'm not what you think I am."      He said it softly, tone careful from where he stood just barely inside the entrance to the apartment. How he'd gotten in so silently behind the hunter was just testament to his own skill, but he stood there, waiting. Was he surprised that Geralt was there? No, though he'd hoped it would never come to this.      Bucky was dressed casual, the aim being to blend in and be ignored, which had worked for the past few months of keeping his head down and not lingering too long anywhere. He'd needed time to get his head together, to remember who he was and what he'd done, what he'd once stood for, and even longer to even attempt to have a handle on trying to live with what was in his head. He was still working on that part, ready to bolt, but this man would only chase, as he must have been doing for quite some time.      "I remember you, but that's not me anymore." He'd been Hydra's tool then, and he'd both fought and escaped only a few years previously, but he didn't know if Geralt even cared. Should he?

[sanatoris]

@filedfangs cont from 🩺

There is a halt to whatever in his mind, his features freezing for a moment in realization: yes, he is wrong in this, he has been losing his patience lately, and it FRUSTRATES him, yet it is no excuse to be behaving like that. “ I- ” He raises a hand momentarily in apology. “ I’m sorry.. You’re right.. ”

[sanatoris]

@filedfangs cont. from 🩺

It is a LOADED question, a one he knows the answer to deep inside, yet he takes his time; it is not something one would just mutter to anyone. A sigh escapes his lungs, gaze set upon whatever in front of the both of them as he finally lets the words out. “ —myself. ”

[fckingbard]

@filedfangs​ liked for Witcher!Jask

"Not often I find a pair of eyes that match my own out on the Path.” Cautiously, he watched the other, eyes darting to the wolf medallion hanging from his neck. His own was hidden, sewn into a pocket within his own light armour. There were few friends for Vipers on the path in Jaskier’s humble experience. “Suppose you’re here about the disappearances too?”

[tangledfate]

@filedfangs

Jasmine had been on her way out of the tavern when the drunk stopped her. Smacking her hip to get her attention--though he'd likely been aiming elsewhere--and grinning like a fool as he reached beneath her cloak. Hooking a hand around her waist he pulled her closer.

"You're not from around here are you, darlin'?" The princess rolled her eyes, the stench of his breath wrinkling her nose in disgust before henna stained fingers removed his grip from tanned flesh. She almost missed when men had been too scared to touch her. Twisting the appendage to crack in a way that said it wasn't supposed to, she released him; leveling his companions with a fierce umber stare before pulling up her hood and continuing on her way out.

Three houses down was when she realized she was being followed. Booted footsteps lending a sound to her movements that her own slippers did not. Rounding the corner into an alley, the point of her dagger aimed for his throat if he followed.