Dderbbear



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “If you can tolerate my presence for a while longer,” Geralt mutters darkly, and Jaskier flinches at his tone, “you are welcome to ride out the storm here.”

    Jaskier doesn’t have time to open his mouth before Geralt leaves, closing the door behind him with an impossibly gentle click, and Jaskier’s teeth are on edge as he sinks down onto his bed, his packed bag tilting over and landing on his lap with the movement. He can hear it now, the wind howling outside his window, the pattering of rain that will no doubt grow stronger, the swell of a growing storm. It will be too dangerous to leave Kaer Morhen.

    So he’s stuck here.

    Of course, he is.

    Or, five times Jaskier tries to leave Kaer Morhen and the one time he actually does.

    Language:
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    08 May 2025

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    What's your game, Potter?" he asked calmly as Potter's face floated an inch away from him.

    After their second proximity incident, Draco had taken special care to note the specky git's whereabouts and behaviour; watching him with the corner of his eye whenever he could. And in his observation, he had noticed that while Potter did fumble around like a blind fool without his glasses, not once, once, did he pull anyone as close to his eye level to confirm their identity. It was only Draco. Only him. And Draco needed to find out why.

    Or,

    Five times Draco got pinned to the wall by Potter, who was surely, up to something.

    Language:
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    03 Feb 2025

  3. Public Bookmark *

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    Move on. Let it heal.

    Maybe that’s why Steve said yes when Max asked him to help move boxes out of Billy’s room after the dust settled. He could hear her voice. Too many. Too heavy.

    Just like his wounds. His grief. Too many. Too heavy.

    (Or, Steve steals the glass ashtray from Billy's bedside table and things start to go bump in the night.)

    Language:
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    14 Nov 2024

  4. Public Bookmark *

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    Jaskier is dead. He’s dead, he’s dead, he’s died. Jaskier died, says the piece of paper crushed in his fist. The ink bleeds onto his palm, died died died died. Smudged words of sorrow, of sympathy. We’re so sorry, they said. He’s gone.
    There is nothing Geralt can do, no way to play the hero just in the nick of time.

    Language:
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    27 Oct 2024

  5. Public Bookmark 79

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    Swallow that hate of yours, Rick.

     

    Rick tries, he really does.

    Language:
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    Chapters:
    3/?
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    28 Sep 2024