#it's been a really long time since I read HDM
Link
Chapters: 24/24
Fandom: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Relationships: Chirrut Îmwe/Baze Malbus, Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso
Characters: Chirrut Îmwe, Baze Malbus, Jyn Erso, Cassian Andor, K-2SO (Star Wars), Bodhi Rook, Galen Erso, Steela Gerrera
Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Daemons, Alternate Universe - His Dark Materials Fusion, Alternate History, Alethiometer Use, Force-Sensitive Chirrut Îmwe, though it's more like Dust-sensitive here, Eventual Cassian Andor/Jyn Erso - Freeform, mentions of torture, Original Character(s), Daemon Touching, Non-Explicit Sex, Canon-Typical Violence, POV Multiple
Series: Part 1 of darkness, moonrise
Summary:
It is over a century after the events of His Dark Materials, and the Magisterium has regained much of its former power.
Dr Galen Erso, experimental theologian and foremost expert on Dust, mysteriously disappeared on a research trip over a decade ago. The world has presumed him lost, dead, or declared heretic.
Now, the Magisterium are building an unspeakable weapon.
A fallen temple, witches, a long-lost alethiometer, a tear between worlds, a knife... and Dust.
from @a-whale-bone
#Cassian Andor#Jyn Erso#rebelcaptain#fanfiction#recs#whalebone#His Dark Materials AU#um pay attention to the warnings#THIS WAS SO GOOOOOOOOD#read it read it read it#it's been a really long time since I read HDM#but I could follow along#jsyk#star wars#search your feelings you know it to be queue
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tagged by @cleoselene!
last song you listened to: brass band by jukebox the ghost
last movie you watched: i am watching kiss kiss bang bang right now! merry christmas.
currently watching: well as i said - kiss kiss bang bang
other things you’ve watched this year: eryn @swiftzeldas is dragging me headfirst into the x-files with her. i'm also 3 1/2 seasons into gilmore girls. also watched silo, band of brothers, rewatched all the saw movies of course,
currently reading: the secret commonwealth by phillip pullman and i am loving it so much i can't believe it - i almost didn't even pick it up bc i've heard nothing but negative responses to it?? i don't get why people hate it so much i really don't it's so good. but idk there's almost nothing phillip pullman could do that would make me stop reading anything in the HDM universe i just love everything about it.
currently listening to: the movie i am watching
current obsession: i am more obsessed with the x-files than i've been with any show in a long time, since eryn got me to start watching it idk a couple months ago. i am not quite done with season 4 and it has consistently surprised and impressed me and it's so much more than i expected it to be, somehow. idk how i never watched it before but i'm so glad i'm watching it now because it's the perfect blend of monster of the week and mystery box show and i am obsessed. if you see me on twitter complaining A Lot about how modern tv is not doing what tv should be doing this is fully why and the x-files is the type of show that made me fall in love with tv as a storytelling medium in the FIRST PLACE
currently working on: i am very intimated by the x-files fandom because it is 30 years old and birthed modern fandom so naturally i am working on an au casefic that mashes up txf and his dark materials (another fandom people famously have no opinions on /s) but on the bright side prior to this i'd been working on a psych fanfic for literally 2 years that i couldn't manage to get out of my head and onto paper so it's nice to be actually working on something else
no-pressure tag! @ageless-aislynn @dead-ghost-walking @christinedieae @thelikeness
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(1) okay so. The daemon au thoughts. I think that for Bruce (and the rest of batfam eventually) having a settled daemon means possibly compromising his identity. So he and his daemon probably keep their distance during patrol and stuff (like witches in hdm canon do with their daemons) but this was painful af at first. Robins probably don't have to do so as long as their daemons aren't settled but I don't think it lasts long. Does he train them to be able to do this?
(2) What if seeing his parents die made Dick's daemon settle early? What happens to Jason's daemon when he comes back, does he still have one? (lmao I'm so sorry I really looked at batfam in daemon au and ooops all angst I'll stop now) On the other hand, batfam having no visible daemons can be a good intimidation tactic. And I really want Bruce to have a daemon that looks dangerous from outside but has a soft spot (big cat mayhaps?).
(3) Okay last thought is nice I promise. I like to think that Kon's daemon is really protective of Jon and his daemon (like kon himself is ofc) so can you imagine Kon's daemon just. Grabbing Jon's daemon by the scruff and carrying them around. (Bonus points cause Jon's daemon is likely not settled so they shift to escape but it doesn't really help and they just have to deal with it). Big brother behavior doubled. Sorry this kinda spiraled out of control, hdm brainrot still going strong I guess.
yeah settled daemons probably would be a id issue for like... every adult hero with a secret identity huh. they'd def have to find ways around that (like physical separation i guess, or if we just... make things up for the lore maybe dhfksjdh)
im gonna be real though its been so long since i read hdm i dont remember what happens in canon to a daemon when its person dies. does it just die then too? and vice versa if a daemon is killed? i feel like this probably happened in the books and i just dont remember asdfjhjkds
but YES kons daemon always fussing over jons is so CUTE. double big brother time!!!!!! kon is fussing over jon for scraping his knees and palms doing something reckless, meanwhile his daemon is aggressively grooming and licking jon's, yes yes. very cute. <3
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AIron Man but it’s also a “His Dark Materials” AU, where of course Tony Stark had a daemon (or maybe he lost it in the attack and that’s also part of what killed him???) and AIron Man doesn’t. But he needs to pretend he has one or else people will know he’s not human!
So he says oh yeah it’s small enough to be in my armor all the time when asked. Eventually he builds this little mechanical daemon, to really sell the lie or because he WANTS and aches for humanity all his own?? Who can say. He’ll claim it’s also covered in armor for its protection, that’s why it looks mechanical
What form should his little wind up Daemon take? And is it sentient all its own or is it just a peripheral of himself?
Or maybe Tony made it for him in the image of his own Daemon and all that comes with it. Maybe it makes it all the more tragic should the little thing come to harm, it might now be his soul but it came from a source that is long gone.
Maybe it’s a little golden bee 🐝 or a spider clockwork🕷️. Something small that builds and makes.
this is SO GOOD i havent read HDM in years (and honestly it was amber spyglass that stuck with me the most, LOVE some good specbio) and god,,,, this is a lot,,,
theres so many good options. maybe he fakes that his daemon DID die and the armour keeps him from dying as well. maybe he fakes that it allows for a greater distance. i think a lil mechanical bug would be very good but consider: bee hummingbird. smallest bird in the world. absolutely tiny. just a little friend. especially since i do generally think of tony's daemon being a bird, even though i dont think iron man would take exactly the form that tony's would have been.
but also,,,, he just gets like. a pet insect or smth. just a normal-ass bee he keeps around and feeds and cares for. i think an orchid bee (look them up, they're VERY pretty. also, they're brood parasites, which is..... Something. they're also not eusocial, so having just one as a little buddy wouldn't be detrimental to them.)
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tagged by @cleoselene! Thanks!!!
last song you listened to: dead flowers by miranda lambert
last movie you watched: the santa clause! it's one of my holiday must-watch movies even though tim allen is such a dick
currently watching: nothing but i'm working from home today so best believe the x-files will be turned on this afternoon
other things you’ve watched this year: the x-files, band of brothers (a rewatch that reminded me how much i LOVE that show), silo, his dark materials (i'm halfway through the first season, i never did finish that show), the fall of the house of usher, poker face, succession, barry, love is blind (a horrible morally corrupt show that i cannot and will never stop watching)
currently reading: the subtle knife by philip pullman
currently listening to: currently nothing but always taylor swift, i still have not really taken the 1989 vault tracks off repeat. plus this year has introduced me to maisie peters and it has been a LONG time since i loved a new artist this much. the good witch is a flawless album (the deluxe edition is less flawless but still very very good)
currently working on: my sister @emmaswanned and i have been talking extensively about x-files/his dark materials au and i'm working on a fic along these lines but i don't know that i will post it on ao3 because most of the hdm au is elyse's au and i can only take credit for krycek's daemon. so this fic might just be for fun, which is also kind of nice because i don't have to worry about filling in the blanks of the details of what's happening and i can just focus on the fun stuff (making mulder and krycek kiss). i have a couple other x-files fics in the works and a Band of Brothers one i really ought to finish
current obsession: well. the x-files. and his dark materials. i never did finish reading those books when i was a kid (i read and loved the golden compass, but the subtle knife got waaaay too in-depth with the science and philosophy and i got bored, plus i don't really like when lyra goes to the "real world" AND i do not care about will - change my mind, pullman!) but i have wanted to finish watching the show for ages because the casting is so spot-on perfect, but the show does have its major flaws especially with regrd to how it handles daemons, so i want to read all the books before i finish the show. i have vague knowledge of what happens in the subtle knife but i have no IDEA what to expect from the amber spyglass. for all i know lyra kills god. who can say?
tagging: @incomprehensiblelentils @jackreichel @adanceinasnowglobe @swiftieblackbeard @amidalleia
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Do you have criticism of the hdm show other than how it changed Lyra's characterization and removed the humour? I loved the show but I do tend to agree with your opinions on things so I'd be interested to hear them if you want to share. And it's been a while since I last read the books so watching the show I didn't have the specifics of them in mind so I could well have missed a bunch of things. Something was off with Iorek I think, though beyond his voice being weirdly Patrick-Page-from-Hadestown for no discernible reason, I'm not sure why. Maybe that comes down to the show making itself grittier too. Like in the book he is tough and incredibly capable and fearsome but he's also kind and compassionate and a fluffy polar bear friend. And then obviously LMM wasn't a great choice for Lee Scorsby, I think most people agree on that point. And they cut way too much worldbuilding with the mulefa in s3 and I get that sure, it's not the most action-packed thing and maybe would've made sense to cut when you're on a time limit but good god Mary playing anthropologist is my favourite part of that whole book I really would have watched a whole season just building out that world and society without any action or conflict. Also it was such a weird choice at the climax to make Will open a box and that box had god in it and god just kind of evaporates and that's that. Like that was the grittiest part of the book maybe! or ballsiest, at least. He literally stabs god! Why would they cut that?! they clearly haven't been watering anything down up to this point to try and pander more to christian sensibilities so why on earth would they chose this most important moment to water something down. k I kind of went off there and probably I'm forgetting some things but overall I really do adore it as an adaptation.
Go off!! I shall listen, I'm curious what happened bc I haven't finished s1 and have only seen maybe 2 eps of s2. I am sad to hear they removed the mulefa parts because those are my fav too… Idk if we're gonna agree on this one, but here goes. The only thing I remember abt it is that it was just insanely boring to me, I would pick up my phone a million times during episodes and I NEVER do that. I reread the books either during its first season or right beforehand, and I couldn't stop feeling like the show made everyone into dolls with sly faces, walking around and calmly stating their lines, instead of the memorable characters they are. The book has so much heart and color in it, but the show is gritty and gray and SO BORING. LIKE GOD. Every scene lasts 100 hours with Important Glances and Long Silences everywhere, interrupted by expositiony dialogue. And I am so sorry, I know she's a kid, but Dafne Keen wasn't good enough to be a lead on a show, especially in one as devoid of any other things that could distract from the acting as this. I liked Amir Wilson and the rest of the cast, but I was never able to believe her.
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Just wanted you to know that I’ve finally started reading the his dark materials trilogy for the first time thanks to your constant praise of the show. I want to watch it but I’m a book before the show kinda gal so that’s what I’m doing. Really enjoying it so far!
Update: I finished the books and I loved them!! Can’t wait to watch the show now; if your posts are anything to go by they did a good job with it
Halfway through season 2 and holy SHIT. I literally can’t put HDM down it’s so good?? It’s been a long time since I’ve seen an adaptation this good. I’ll probably binge and finish the rest today lol. As always your recommendations are rock solid
And tangent but I’m so obsessed with marisa coulter 😭 like I know she’s evil or whatever but my god, I can’t help but be in complete awe of her every time she’s on my screen. So complex. I get why everyone in her universe is enthralled by her fr fr
Phewww just finished the show. Wow. Gonna need a minute to digest it all but just wow.
This was truly one of my favorite inbox sagas. I kept checking my inbox for days just to see your updates. Glad you liked both the books and the adaptation because they're truly masterful :)
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❥started: January 28th 2022
❥ended: February 7th 2022
❥title: The Book of Dust: The secret commonwealth by Philip Pullman, 2019
❥ pages: 633
❥ genre: Fantasy fiction
❥ rating: ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
❥ opinion: I’ve heard a lot of feedback about this novel. The majority, I have to say, have been negative — and I will say that I’m apart of the minority, who, actually really ended up liking this book. Of course, save for a few scenes that happened, in which I was not ready to read(talking about Malcolm’s thoughts about Lyra and the scene with Lyra and the soldiers).
There are some things (many things) that I’d like to talk about the secret commonwealth and the first thing is, I’m sure you’re all not surprised if you’ve been a long time fan for “His Dark Materials”: yup, I’m talking about the dæmons — and more specifically, separation.
Now, entering this book with the events of the Amber spyglass still fresh; we are absolutely convinced that human and dæmon separating is a tremendously painful processus, yes, but also very frightening and quite uncommon — well at least, that’s what we thought, having stayed in Lyra’s POV and Oxford in general. However, we haven’t seen the other regions of the world, more specifically, in Europe.
The secret commonwealth explores this phenomenon and shows us that: dæmon separation isn’t as uncommon as we all believed it to be, and not as shameful. We meet many people who have been just like Lyra, and we slowly learn to accept that dæmon separation isn’t as rare as we sought it out to be.
(I’ll be honest. When I was at the very beginning of the book, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes each time someone claims to have experienced dæmon separation. “Oh wow, what happened to it being highly immoral and disgraceful? Practically everyone does it at this point!”)
The second thing I’d like to talk about is Pan and Lyra’s relationship(or rather quarrel) throughout the whole story; it was heartbreaking to read, really. It’s because, from the HDM trilogy, they’ve been together since the very start, grew up together, were each other’s other half — and to see them detesting each other and say all those mean things to each other? (Lyra even used ‘fucking stranger’ to describe him!)
I really hope that we see them reconcile by the end of the third book, they show to really care for one another too, despite every argument. (Though with how things ended in this one, and how Nur Huda seemed to be alone, I think Pan might’ve ran off...)
An honourable mention goes to the fact that Malcolm’s thoughts about Lyra were just,, wrong and uncomfortable to read. I know that they’re both adults but...man’s literally taken care of her since she was a baby. I hope they don’t end up together, Pullman, it’ll just be...so weird... he seems more like an older brother to her...
The last thing I’d like to talk about is, Marcel fucking Delamare, yes I said it! Absolutely loved his character(and perhaps I may be a tinyyyyy bias because he’s Marisa’s baby brother). But he’s just really interesting and calmly calculated at all times! He makes a way better antagonist than Gerard Bonneville for sure and I was in literal hysterics when I read him face-off against Maman Delamare in ch. 16 (btw, I read it at 2AM, imagine my pain.)
He’s like this calm and passive version of his older sister, and I think it’s great how the siblings resemble each other so much without actually having the same intentions — I’d love to see the Delamare family’s reaction to him becoming the boss of the fucking Magisterium of all things, seriously! That was such a godly moment on his part!
I like that the secret commonwealth was more of an adult’s novel than one suitable for children. It really brings a change and highlights the whole “His Darker Materials” aspect into this new trilogy. While the matters(like the sexual assault for example) can be troubling and discomforting for some, there were other great moments in the story, it makes us truly question this one thing: Imagination vs science?
It seems to be the ongoing theme in the story where Lyra slowly begins to lose her imagination and Pan, desperately going out to look for it and bring it back. But as Lyra travels all over the world, she begins to question whether she’ll ever get it back — and it’s just this amazing moment of reflection from the child!Lyra, that we all knew who was stubborn and creative back in the world of His Dark Materials, to now an adult!Lyra who’s burdened with the loss of her dæmon.
❥ quotes:
“I don’t know if pretending’s a good way to live.”
“There was a memory of a night when someone was walking up and down in a moonlit garden, whispering as he held her close, with a great quiet leopard walking alongside.”
“And so did you, for a bit. You just couldn’t keep going. You’re not really interested. What are we going to do? We can’t go on like this. Why do you hate me so much? Why do I hate you? Why can’t we stand being with each other?”
“Truth-tellers needed to know what the truth was, so as to tell it. Liars needed to know what the truth was so they could change it or avoid it. Then there were bullshitters, who didn’t care about the truth at all. They weren’t interested. What they spoke wasn’t the truth now was it lies; it was bullshit. All they were interested in was their own performance.”
“So, we’re gonna see a death bed wedding, are we?”
“As he signed the order, Marcel Delamare thought of the sister he had admired so much. He thought of his mother too, and looked forward to seeing her again.”
“Don’t call me madam. You can call me Miss Silvertongue.”
#❥library at the crossroad of worlds#❥crossroad reviews#bookblr#book reviews#his dark materials#the book of dust#the secret commonwealth#the secret commonwealth spoilers#philip pullman
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okay how about... FC / SIH / KAY, percy jackson / band au / daemons, in that order tentatively. pick and choose as you will ofc if you don't want to do any of these
You are so insane... you sent me a request I will fulfill the requests. You're also insane for recommending a canon neither of us have ever read, though (HDM.) Three stories, now with bonus author's notes!
Forest Castles - Percy Jackson
It's been a really long time since I've read this series. This is loose, loose, loose, loose fanfic.
“You’re being obvious,” Eliza says, and Red jumps before flattening himself against the wall. “Move out of the way.” She nudges him aside and takes his place hiding around a corner to spy on Avner talking to the members of Aphrodite cabin.
“He’s asking questions,” Red says, leaning over Eliza’s shoulder. “He’s taking notes.”
“It’s so…” Eliza leans forward to get a better view of Avner looking bashful as someone compliments his hair.
“Cute?” Red offers.
“What?”
“I was finishing your—never mind. You move over,” Red says as Eliza pushes him back further, and he burns a hole in her sleeve with one finger.
“Ow!” Eliza rubs her arm. “What, looking to join Cabin 5?”
“Looking for an opportunity, actually.” Red ducks slightly, like a cat about to pounce. Eliza crosses her arms. “I predict Hecate for you, by the way.”
“Thanks, Oracle,” Eliza says, turning to keep watch behind them, but when she turns back Red has disappeared. She whips toward the corner just in time to see Red wrap an arm around Avner, whisper something, and pull them both underground in a plume of black smoke. “Red!”
She races out into the open, waving her hand in front of her face; Aphrodite cabin members scatter in all directions.
“Where did they go?” she manages through coughs, bumping into a small, frowning brown-haired girl.
“Guy dressed all in black and his object of affection?” she snaps. “Underworld, for all I know. Hmph!” And she trots off, flipping her hair over her frilly shoulder. Eliza stays back, feeling over the ground as though by stepping hard enough she might follow them down.
Sometimes it Happens - Band
Yes! More flashback stuff! This is when Ephraim is planning his disappearance.
Ephraim leaves before the last note has dissipated, just as it’s ringing in the air. Elle looks up from the microphone and manages to catch the door slamming shut behind him. They lower their hands and take a breath.
“He just needs some time,” Ava says. She flips her drumsticks in her hands nervously.
“I don’t get it.” Elle’s brow furrows. They sit down on the carpeted floor and uncap their water bottle. “If he needs time from me, why not just tell me?”
“Because it’s not—he’s not breaking up with you.” Ava presses a hand to her forehead. “You need to talk to him. I’m sorry.”
“Is he telling you that he’s not breaking up with me? Because he’s not telling me anything.” Elle wipes at their face with one arm. They press their mouth shut. “I don’t know how we’re supposed to debut like this. Is it just—” they lean over the step they’re sitting on and look up at Ava. “It’s not the music.”
“It’s not the music.”
“It’s not the band.”
“It’s not the band.”
“It’s not my hair.”
“It’s not—why would it be your hair?”
“It’s not pink anymore,” Elle mutters, twirling a lock of blonde hair around their finger. “Maybe he liked it better pink.”
“It’s not the hair. It’s—look, it’s none of my business, okay? I don’t want to be moderating your relationship.” Ava looks away as Elle shoots a hurt glance at her. “I mean, I don’t think I should be. I think you should talk to each other.”
“You think I want to be talking to you about this?” Elle leans against the step that Ava’s drum set sits on and curls up. “He didn’t even unplug his—”
“He’s being a shitty friend,” Ava decides, getting up. She slips her drumsticks into their carry case and zips it. “I’m going to talk to him.”
“And it’ll work for you?” Elle calls after her. “Tell him to talk to me!”
“I have,” Ava mutters, walking out the door. Elle watches it slam a second time, hunches over, and lays their head down in their arms to cry.
KAY - Daemon
This is just not about His Dark Materials. It simply isn't. It's about the vague concept of having an animal familiar that represents something about you, and I didn't even bother to read the information Max so kindly sent me about the series. Enjoy!
Kay’s blue butterfly rests on the edge of her pen as she writes. Any modern adaptation of Carmilla poses several major questions of concern. The first is one of clarity—
Constantine squawks from downstairs. Kay sighs, drops her pen, and holds out her arm for the butterfly to return to her sleeve. She shuts her door and heads down the steps to find Constantine holding his hands to his face.
“You have a mouse,” Atlas is arguing, at the end of a series of muddy footprints leading into the house. “You know, restaurants can be shut down for that.”
“He is clean,” Constantine protests, crossing his arms. His little brown mouse races from one shoulder to the other. “He washes his feet. For that matter, I wash his feet.”
“You wash his feet?” Atlas reaches out and, with preternatural reflexes, grabs the mouse off of Constantine’s shoulder. Constantine leaps for it, but Atlas holds it out of the way by its tail.
“Kind of gay of you to have a mouse for a daemon,” Atlas says, examining it. The mouse wriggles up to his hand and bites his finger. “Yowch. That’s not a bad thing.”
“Enough,” Kay calls from the stairs, and it distracts Atlas enough to let Constantine grab his mouse back. The mouse, for its part, appears to be shivering.
“I was just lookin for you!” Atlas chirps. He waves a pair of stolen car keys. “We’re going out. Going to find you a daemon.”
Kay crosses her arms.
“Weird of you not to have one,” Atlas says. “At your age?”
“I contain multitudes,” Kay says, “and surprises.”
“That’s cute,” Atlas says, “but we’re going to the shelter. You can get a cat.”
“I am not entirely opposed to that,” Constantine says, seeming vaguely surprised, and his mouse shudders from head to toe. “Well. I suppose I ought to consider it first.”
“Too late,” Atlas says, taking Kay’s hand. Kay lets him drag her out the door to the car he’s hotwired, which, this time, is a light blue Beetle. Kay folds herself into the passenger seat.
“I suppose you have no opinions on modern adaptations of Carmilla?” she asks Atlas.
“Haven’t read it yet,” he responds, keeping his eyes on the road. “Hang on; I’m going to do something illegal.”
Kay leans her head on her hand. Atlas scrunches down in his seat and concentrates, and the car jets forward on plumes of black ink, leapfrogging over other vehicles like pieces on a chessboard. The sensation is not unlike that of revolving very quickly; the kind of spinning that simulates forward motion.
“We’re here.” Atlas jumps out of the car to open the door for Kay. “Just give it a shot, okay? You’re catlike. If I had to pick something for you, it’d be a cat.”
“That does not surprise me.” Atlas’s lion is currently in the Rainier family garden, eating the rose bushes.
“Well, do you want to look at lizards?” Now Atlas holds the shelter door open. “You want a chinchilla? They don’t have those here, but there are pet stores. We could go find you a fish if you really want one. Let us look at your cats,” he says to the dark-haired, bespectacled intern at the front desk.
“Are you looking to adopt one?” they ask.
“Unsure. I have the authority, though,” Atlas says, whipping out his card. The intern’s eyes widen. “Just find… the smallest, cutest one in there. Or the oldest one. You know what? Go crazy. It’s for her,” he says, gesturing at Kay. Kay pretends for her own sanity that she isn’t with him.
Five minutes later, they are sitting in a small room with something that looks like a large, hairy egg. Her name is Doff and she is rounder than any animal Kay has ever seen. Kay lifts her up good-naturedly, bobbing her up and down like a baby.
“Any feelings? Connections?” Atlas queries, leaning in as Kay drops Doff in her lap, apparently amused by the appearance of claws in the cat’s landing.
“Many feelings,” Kay says, petting Doff. Doff curls up a little tighter on Kay’s lap and begins to purr. “Connection, to be sure.”
“You’re kidding.”
“She is very cute,” Kay acknowledges, scratching Doff’s back. Doff kneads Kay’s pants.
“Well, if you’re not going to keep her—”
“You have the authority,” Kay reminds him. “I could sit in here all day. Did you bring a book?”
“No. Did you?” Atlas asks, and Kay pulls a small, battered paperback out of her coat pocket. “How.”
“I am never caught unawares,” Kay says, handing it to him. Atlas flips through it, then starts at the beginning. Kay lifts Doff and gives her a little kiss on the nose. Doff yawns, and Kay barely represses a smile.
Atlas reads through the second cat, which is a longhaired tabby mix, and the third, which is black except for two little brown mittens on her feet. The fourth cat is loud and needy enough to require both of their attentions, and the fifth is so old that socialization with her merely entails sitting in the same room. After that, the intern returns and informs them that there are simply no more cats.
“Anywhere?” Atlas asks, leaning against the wall. “Not even in a bathroom somewhere?”
“We don’t let them in the bathrooms,” the intern says.
“You couldn’t rescue another one for us?”
“I don’t do the rescues,” they say.
“Oh, well.” Atlas gets up and stretches; Kay slips the book out of his hand and tucks it back into her pocket. “McDonald’s?”
“No outside food,” Kay reminds him. “You may order whatever you like for yourself.”
“Maybe I will. No offense, but I miss milkshakes.” Atlas drops some random bills into the donation jar at the front desk and pushes the doors open for both of them. “Maybe we should get you a fish. One of those super pretty ones with the long fins. They could represent how you’re beautiful and inaccessible to human beings.”
“Fish are not inaccessible,” Kay says.
“Well, they don’t cuddle up to you. You can’t touch them.”
“Do you find me untouchable?” Kay asks.
“I think it’s an honor to be touched by you,” Atlas says, mock-bowing, and when he straightens up a butterfly lands on his nose. He stills, and goes cross-eyed looking at it. “Whoah.” He waits silently for it to lift off, and then adds, “I don’t think that was a total waste. We got to pet some cats.”
“Mm.”
Kay waits, but Atlas doesn’t make the joke she expects him to. When she makes eye contact with him, though, he winks.
“You thinking what I’m thinking?” he asks, opening the car door for her again.
“Take me home, Atlas.”
“No problem, Princess.” Atlas kisses her cheek as she slides into the car. The butterfly slips in through Kay’s open window and rides in the map holder. Kay leans her head on her hand and wonders how many cat trees she’ll find by the time she returns home.
***
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#Kay is reading The Left Hand of Darkness because so am I. That's how it works.#txt#writing#wtwbingo#Very very slight KayPOV... how attractive.#Oh and hi Ahava we love you.#important writing updates#kay rainier#forest castles#sometimes it happens
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ALL 40 BAYBEE!!!!! GIMME SUM ANSWERS
5) Share one of your strengths.
Being,,, prolific?? ?????? ??? ???????????
6) Share one of your weaknesses.
My own mind. No really I'm basically my own worst enemy because I'm too much of a perfectionist and hate myself and mess myself up.
7) Share a snippet from one of your favorite pieces of prose you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.
Stars are the many, many eyes left behind of the Old Gods.
Arya heard this before. She's heard that the stars are the last of the Weeping Lady's tears. They are the eternally bleeding wounds of the Great Shepard according to the Dothraki. They are the drops of poison given to Baelor the Beloved as he laid asleep. They are the immortal sparks of R'hallor's breath. Arya believes the stars are nothing. They exist in a chasm of darkness and death, and no-one is meant to understand why.
Evermore (T, Arya Stark & Sansa Stark, Game of Thrones, 1179 words)
I HAD A LOT OF FUN GOING THROUGH WESTOROS MYTHOLOGY AND TALES IN HISTORY TO MAKE THAT PART. AND THEN WRITING OUT ARYA'S THOUGHTS ABOUT THAT.
8) Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.
"I liked this shirt, you know," Will complains faintly.
Behind him, one of the car-windows rattle. A badly burned hand emerges from the smoke, clawing helplessly.
"We will find you another," Hannibal tells him, disregarding the murderer's intense, gagging screams.
"That's not the point."
"You're holding on needlessly to the limited value of your material possessions, Will. That's not like you." Hannibal lightly clucks his tongue as if disapproving, approaching him and thumbing down Will's jaw. He's warm and wet, and glorious. He's evolving.
"Says the man who buys Patek Philippe wristwatches," Will retorts softly. "For his own pleasure."
The corner of Hannibal's mouth smirks.
"And what kind of pleasure exists within your mind's eye right now, Will?"
"Ripping out your jugular vein with my teeth," Will murmurs, stroking his lambskin-gloved thumb against Hannibal's neck.
"I would be honored."
The Crescendo Of Dying Screams (M, Will Graham/Hannibal Lecter, Hannibal (TV), 908 words)
THIS IS JUST FUN!!! THEY WERE FUN TO WRITE FOR AGAIN AND I HAVE NOT WRITTEN FOR HANNIGRAM IN A WHILE!!
13) What’s the best writing advice you’ve ever come across?
Even if you think it sucks,,,, write it down anyway and then fix it later. The important part is to write and start writing.
14) What’s the worst writing advice you’ve ever come across?
Thankfully,,, I don't think I've come across any yet.
15) If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?
I would love to see Perambulate (G, Princess Bubblegum/Marceline & Prince Gumball/Marshall Lee, Adventure Time, 1358 words) done in a comic at least because I NEED THESE TWO CANON COUPLES TO MEET AND BE SILLY. CANON WLW AND MLM.
16) If you only could write one pairing for the rest of your life, which pairing would it be?
NOT REALISTIC. I DO NOT FUNCTION LIKE THAT
17) Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?
I start out from beginning to ending but sometimes I gotta skip around to keep it going if I get stuck.
18) Do you use any tools, like worksheets or outlines?
*shrugs*
19) Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?
It's probably a little moth trapped in a jar and beating itself senselessly against the glass, but it kind of enjoys it??
20) Describe your perfect writing conditions.
Wrapped in a blanket, alone in my room with headphones and music blasting, with a large water bottle and a little bit of chocolate.
21) How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?
Depends really! Sometimes I'll go through and correct once, and sometimes I will go through like 14 times in one day!
24) Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?
I have! I will upload it again sometime but like,,,,, the person I had made it for in an AO3 fest basically fucked off and me removing it was me going "nah fuck this,,,, it ain't yours anymore!!!"
27) How do you feel about collaborations?
I have done them! I think they're nice! I do not like long term collaboration projects but for a oneshot, yes!
28) Share your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.
@glove23 - I look up to this fic writer so much! They have been battling depression and anxiety, and the complexities of their ADHD, for such a long time and whenever they post something,,, I get so excited! I'm really proud of them! It's hard enough for me to write on a bad mental health day, and I know the struggle they go through, and it's INCREDIBLE to see what they can do! They have been writing since they were young and it really shows how much they love writing and how hard they work on getting the characterization and dialogue to be spot on! Obsessed with their work! (AO3)
@not-so-mundane-after-all-97 - What a powerhouse! Incredible writing and fantastic handling of how she structures plot! Constantly in awe of the ideas she has and when they are well-executed (and they are all of the time)! If you are a fan of Will/Lyra from HDM, this is the person to go to for quality! I promise! (AO3)
other writers I really like are @spookywitchnerd24, @theschubita, @anxiouss-princess, @asajjvxntress, @kingburu, @rapha-writes
29) If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?
ngl I really wanna do the "they get back from horse riding and Aleksander refuses to leave Alina's side while she's getting healed" sequel to you are too well tangled in my soul by @glove23
31) Do you take liberties with canon or are you very strict about your fic being canon compliant?
Meh. It depends on the thing I'm writing.
32) How do you feel about smut?
I write it all of the time and read it all of the time. I don't think it's a big deal at all. I respect that it's uncomfy for a lot of people
33) How do you feel about crack?
It's fun! And it can be done well! I saw more crack fic being done back in,,,, like the early 00s and now I don't see it as much,,,,, sad
34) What are your thoughts on non-con and dub-con?
You know what,,, I was just discussing the psychology of why noncon fic is so popular on AO3 (and I have written it before and to my surprise IT GETS THOUSANDS AND THOUSANDS OF VIEWS) and,,, I think the key components to answering this question is understanding that 1) AO3 allows noncon fic to exist therefore it's a dumping ground and 2) rape culture is so embedded into US-centric society especially and 3) there's a lot of traumatized people on AO3 and likely creating noncon to process what happened to them and 4) it's a taboo subject and humanity has been drawn to and obsessed with what is taboo since forever,,,, and tbh the taboo is fascinating to me! It does draw me in! I have written for it and I've read it, and I think it's important to ask questions and examine why we do this!
35) Would you ever kill off a canon character?
HELL YEAH. ABSOLUTELY. I HAVE DONE IT BEFORE AND I'LL DO IT AGAIN!! I prefer more "oh my god they're dead--OH! now they're alive! yayyyyy!" over permanent character death
36) Which is your favorite site to post fic?
AO3. AO3 is queen. I'm not gonna badmouth FFN and Wattpad in terms of people who go there because that's your business however FFN and Wattpad are largely restrictive and mainstream corporate owned areas of interest that don't give a single shit about their users.
38) Talk about a review that made your day.
Whenever my writer friends comment on my fic,,, I literally get emotional. Like those are my favorite comments to see :)
39) Do you ever get rude reviews and how do you deal with them?
BE SAD FOR HALF A SECOND AND THEN FIGHT.
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Lyra for the ask game! Or Ahsoka
Lyra
favorite thing about them: Her lies in Northern Lights / The Golden Compass. I love how much she lies, that she lies about literally anything and everything that she can lie about, and just how wild her lies get. It's also a huge part of her character arc, which I also love!
least favorite thing about them: I kind of had to reach for this one, because it's not super present in the HDM books (as opposed to TSC), but she can get really dismissive of Pan and his anxieties despite them having a deep connection. It's really only noticeable once you set up a foil for her and Pan with other human-dæmon pairs.
favorite line: From Northern Lights / The Golden Compass -
Her dear soul, the darling companion of her heart, to be cut away and reduced to a little trotting pet?
brOTP: Roger, of course!
OTP: Will wins this one, but only by default
nOTP: Literally anyone else (although her ex? from TSC is fine I guess), especially Malcolm (looking at you, Philman)
random headcanon: I like to imagine that Lyra's ability to extrapolate the hell out of any lie is the reason she can read the alethiometer so easily - she's very malleable with her perception of reality, and genuinely clever about it too, hence why she can grasp the layers of meanings that each symbol of the alethiometer has. Where others might go, "wait that's kind of nonsense" or "what is the logic behind this", Lyra immediately jumps to the most fantastical option.
unpopular opinion: [Heavy spoilers for TAS] Dunno if this is an unpopular opinion, since I haven't actually seen people talk about it, but I don't like that the burden of spreading the "tell them true stories" thing is placed on her near the end of the book (and Will, of course) at all! There are plenty of others that Xaphania could also have told, and they could have helped spread it too, but nope, it's Lyra, a kid that only one college knows somewhat well, who maybe has friends but isn't super close to, etc etc etc. It's a lovely ending, but I had a huge bone to pick with it here.
song i associate with them: Scholastic Sanctuary from the season 1 OST! I don't know if Lorne Balfe has confirmed this, but I consider it her official theme in the series.
favorite picture of them: [ID in alt text, GIF by me]
Ahsoka
favorite thing about them: Her ability to make friends. She has Rose Tyler energy in the sense that wherever her mission takes her, if she can make friends or finds someone to sympathize with, she does it.
least favorite thing about them: Whatever the hell is going on with her live action montrals and lekku Honestly, most of the issues I do have with her are related to the general writing of the show, not her personality - I go into it a bit more with my "unpopular opinion" since I'm not actually sure it fits here. But if I had to pick one specifically, I don't like that she and Steela fall into the typical "girls rivalling for a guy's attention" trope when they could have been friends instead (especially considering they did get along well in the episodes!)
favorite line: "You don’t have to carry a sword to be powerful. Some leaders’ strength is inspiring others.” [TCW S04E02]
brOTP: Anakin and Rex, and Obi-Wan in a dad way!
OTP: Nobody! I do have some mayhaps-ships with her, but nothing I'll stand on as an OTP.
nOTP: Rex, any of the other troopers, Anakin, and Lux Bonteri.
random headcanon: I explored this in one of my fics, but I headcanon that she enjoys fabric arts in her spare time, specifically spinning yarn and weaving.
unpopular opinion: This is more of an early-TCW-seasons issue (and more on the writing than character) than a problem for season 4-7 (and Rebels) Ahsoka, but I think she gets off too lightly on the consequences to her mistakes sometimes - I get that the episodic narrative means that we can't linger on consequences of battlefield mistakes for long (not to mention TCW is a kid's series, and kids getting punished isn't necessarily something kids would enjoy watching, even if it's rightly done), but it just bothers me a little nonetheless.
song i associate with them: Ahsoka Leaves in the TCW seasons 1-6 OST being the most obvious, I think a close second is Revolting Children because of the Vibes (and also an extended au in my mind which has a fairly strange premise that I'll only write with lots of prodding lol)
favorite picture of them: [ID in alt text, GIF by me]
Badass.
Character Ask
#velli answers#shrinkthisviolet#lyra silvertongue#ahsoka tano#flashing gif#image described#id in alt text#thank you for the ask!
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Something that’s a bit puzzling in Pullman’s work is the unclearness of what happens when a human is separated from their daemon. Generally, they either die or they become monotonous, un-creative, mindless beings, but there’s also these cases where, beyond the original shock and pain caused by the separation, the bond between the human and their daemon seems to remain intact. The only thing that changes is that they’re now able to move far away from each other.
Warning: Contain spoilers from HDM books trilogy (especially books 2-3) and from the first Book of Dust, La Belle Sauvage.
We’ve got three cases of these:
-The witches. Part of their coming-of-age (or becoming-a-witch) ritual is to leave their daemons behind and enter a wasteland, alone, in Siberia. From Serpentine –
“In central Siberia there is a region of devastation. Thousands of years ago there was a prosperous city there, the center of an empire of craftsmen and traders that reached from Novgorod to Mongolia. But they made war with the spirit world, and their capital was destroyed by a blast of fire. Nothing has lived there since – plant, insect, bird or mammal”.
-Will and Lyra, obviously, when they abandon their daemons on the shore of the lands of the dead.
-Malcolm Polstead, who separates from Asta so he can go help Alice (who’s being assaulted in a nearby cemetery, or in a mausoleum, I forget the details) while his daemon stays behind to protect and watch over baby Lyra.
What these three cases have in common: they all have a human (or humans) leaving their daemons behind to enter a place that’s heavily death coded; involving either literal death (the lands of the dead), metaphorical death (the Siberian wasteland), or with a symbolic association with death (a cemetery/mausoleum).
What this could mean: death in itself cannot break the bond between human and daemon. Pullman tells us so, indirectly, when *SPOILERS*
When Lee, mortally wounded by bullets, thinks that no bullet will ever reach his heart (his heart being his daemon Hester).
The problem with this theory: it only works on a doyalist level. Although the lands of the dead are reasonably as close to a “real” death as it gets, and even if we go by the assumption that the wasteland in Siberia is some sort of thin place, the cemetery Malcolm runs to doesn’t really fit either bill. Its association with death doesn’t go beyond the symbolic.
So here’s another explanation:
-A long time ago I remember reading (forgot where, it might’ve been on reddit, or maybe it was from Pullman himself) that the one thing the Subtle Knife couldn’t cut through was love. Hence why the knife broke when Will tried to use it while thinking of his mother (then after that, while thinking of Lyra at the end of The Amber Spyglass).
-In The Subtle Knife, Lyra realizes that one edge of the Subtle Knife is made from the same metal than the blade that almost separated Pantalaimon from her in Bolvangar.
-It was selfless love that motivated both Will/Lyra and Malcolm to separate from their daemons for the first time. Will probably did it – in large part – for Lyra (so she wouldn’t have to go there alone), Lyra did it for Roger, and Malcolm did it for Alice and Lyra.
What this might mean: like the Subtle Knife that can cut the bond between human and daemon, yet can’t cut through love, acts that are truly altruistic and motivated by selfless love cannot destroy the bond between human and daemon either.
The problem with this theory: it doesn’t work with the witches.
Here’s a third explanation: both can apply. Either leaving your daemon to enter a thin/death coded place, or leaving your daemon because it’s the only way to help or protect a person that you love (or to enter a thin/death-coded place and help/protect someone you love, in Will and Lyra’s case), will bring a great deal of pain, yet it will not permanently damage the human-daemon bond.
Of course, speculations like these also bring into question the generally accepted idea that human = body and daemon = soul. It’s probably not as clear-cut as that (or else it would’ve been Pan and Kirjava leaving their humans behind to go into the lands of the dead, rather than the other way around. But that’s for another discussion I guess.)
#his dark materials#lyra belacqua#lyra silvertongue#will parry#malcolm polstead#my metas#the book of dust#daemons
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tagged by @canghai-sangtian
Last song: Chess the musical, I think I paused on Nobody’s Side
Last movie: it has been so long since I have watched an movie I honestly don’t remember. I think either Prince of Egypt or Parasite; not sure which of those rewatches was more recent. Both great though.
Currently reading: currently most actively reading MDZS though it’ll probably take me approximately a million years. Also midway through a TGCF reread. And still, you know, ostensibly reading Wheel of Time. My to-read pile is... well, it’s a good thing all my books are digital these days or said pile would be compromising the structural integrity of my flat at this point.
Currently watching: Word of Honor as of last night when it reached out and punched me in the id (I am four episodes in and do I know what this show is about? No. Do I care? Also no). Nirvana in Fire, because in case it wasn’t obvious I am in cdrama hell at the moment and really have no desire to leave. Also in theory HDM season 2. And Critical Role, ongoing.
Currently craving: A new job, the ability to travel again, and a very specific tea that I ran out of last week and cannot buy in this country.
tagging... @redbelles @picaflorr @pilfered-words @mikkeneko @heirofseaandfire (unless you do not want to, obviously!)
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Do you have a take on what Phillip and Vera’s daemons would be? Or any of the other guests’ for that matter?
Hehehe yes I do, I've been waiting for this question for so long lmao I'm working on a new fic that is ATTWN written by the Agatha Christie of Lyra's world so I had to come up with daemons for all of them.
I'll start in reverse order, from Vera to Marston, since you asked about her first anon.
For Vera, I was torn between a brownish/greyish owl and a marmoset. I really can't imagine any other Vera than Maeve Dermody, and because appearance is important when thinking about Daemons (because daemons lend something of their animal form to the human, ie 'a serpent daemon usually has a human with a serpentine vibes' this was said by Philman in an interview), I think an owl would have suited her. She has big eyes, that are always darting around; she's often immobile, observing her surroundings. However, I think that a marmoset suits her better because Vera has a Hannah Relf quality to her (another marmoset daemon, in case you haven't read the HDM books). It's that silent attitude, keeping to herself, wary of her surroundings and while she seems weak and fragile, Vera is not afraid to act or reacts extremely if the situation calls for it. She is also very shrewd, and I chose the marmoset for her because there is something so appealing to see Vera, big eyes and shrewd attitude behind a mask of silly girl, with a daemon clinging to her neck, observing the room, tiny and silent, but just as clever as she is.
For Lombard, and this one was a no brainer, he has a panther. Show! Lombard would have a black panther, because it suits Aidan Turner's looks; for the book, it would still be a panther type, but a spotted leopard one. Book! Lombard is more earthy than Show! Lombard, hence his daemon having a lighter, more brown palette. As for the reason, there wasn't a lot of thinking when I chose this; in the book, Lombard is described many times like a panther: dangerous, lithe, moving quietly about the house. Everyone in the house feels this vibe and they know he is dangerous, and he sees them as prey (because one of them is the killer and he is just waiting to catch them). I think for a man like him, having a big, dangerous daemon, is very suitable. There is also something of Asriel in him, both in the show and book, so it's fitting they have the same/similar type of daemon.
For Blore, I knew it had to be a type of dog. Everything about Blore screams "barks more than it bites", and while he can be assertive and take control, he always defers to people if they say the right thing to him. Book! Blore would have a boring, but bigger dog, I imagine; he is described as a big man, and he has a very thuggish attitude. Maybe a German Shepherd. Show! Blore is more sleek and clever, less thuggish more alert and paranoid, but also more in control. He dresses nice, is rather vain specially towards his skills, so I gave him a black poodle, a small one though. Blore, although assertive, always is overwhelmed by Armstrong and Lombard, both men that have a bigger presence and willpower than he does.
For Armstrong, I was torn between weasel and a badger, and I think the badger suits him better. It's tempting to go weasel and say he was oh cunning and sleek, but I don't think that's true. While Show! Armstrong loses his shit fairly quickly, even in distress he maintains some control (like when he insists to take care of Mrs Rogers despite Rogers saying she was alright; or when they are all dancing and he is staring at Vera and Lombard, suspicious, trying to steady himself). The Badger fits him better: grounded, stable creatures but also very vicious if they have to be; if my doctor had a badger daemon I would feel safe, I think. Examples of badger daemons in the books I think it's Malcolm's mom, who is incredibly down-to-earth and assertive, which represents Book! Armstrong better, I'll be honest, but I can see Toby Stephens with a badger daemon as Armstrong as well. His character is a man with a sense of belonging, and he perceives his surroundings very well. In the book, Armstrong is more cool headed (for the show, him and Vera have their attitudes swapped, which I like but it's fair to mention here as well) and more in control of his motions. He moves around everyone and doesn't start dissent like in the show, which I think makes sense for his daemon. He doesn't fight unless he has too.
For Wargrave, and this was fun, but I was torn between a butterfly and a chameleon, and I ultimately decided for the butterfly because I thought the chameleon was too on the nose with his twist. This is for both show and book, and if there are changes it's probably just in colours and patterns. In the book, Wargrave is often described as someone with a reptile smile, hence why I chose the chameleon at first, but I think he is still a fragile man at his core. Butterflies are synonym of beauty and change; they tend to be associated with evolution and growth, and that's Wargrave's story I think. He is a man who spent his life working in law, seeing dozens and dozens of criminals come and go and die: he was known for having a high death rate, so I imagine he dealt with heinous crimes the most (I don't know for sure but I don't think they hanged people for stealing or whatever in the early 20th century, but take this with a pinch of salt lmao). Then one day Wargrave meets this Edward Seton, a total sadist (and a serial killer in the show) and he realised things about himself that he didn't know before. In the show, he has a line about Seton having a legacy of terror to be remembered, while he and everyone else would be forgotten and I think that's very much what the butterfly represents for Wargrave. When he finds out he is sick, he finds growth in pursuing his true passion, which was murder. The butterfly is also a very fragile daemon, and because of that she doesn't reflect his true physique (despite sick he is nowhere near as frail as he appears to be), and her beauty helps lure the trust of people, make him seem trustworthy (Vera on the show, Armstrong in the book). Just to add, he is also separated from her, and this is how he manages to fake his death well. (i was saving this twist for the fic but I might never finish it lmao)
For Miss Brent, this one had me thinking a lot. Like, a lot. I was torn between a toucan and a spider, and I ultimately decided to go for the toucan, mostly because I think it suits her better. Spiders are often associated with storytellers and creative people and Emily Brent is far from creative. She is judgemental, conservative, vain and nasty towards anyone she considers unworthy. In the show, she has an attitude towards the General, she likes him well and they don't quite explain why, but I think it's because he is from her generation - and social status - and she respects him for it. The same goes for Wargrave and Armstrong, but towards Armstrong she just respects his status, not his age. She sort of sees him as "still young but on the right path". She absolutely resents Lombard - as she does in the book, probably for the same reason: he is pretty much a living hands to mouth kind of guy and he is immoral according to her - and she doesn't think highly of Blore either, also because of social status. Anyway, I can do a separate post about this, but I chose the toucan because they are beautiful birds, a little menacing, and they have a bit of a bitchy attitude. No deeper thought to that to be fair lmao. Toucans make me think "vain" and I love this concept because Miss Brent loathes women who wear make up or show off, but I think this Is clearly a façade on her part, because she is also vain, in her own way.
For Rogers, I was torn between a big, posh dog and a fox. Now, this one is tough because we fall into that "good servants have dog daemons" rule, which I think it's too simplistic to define a person's nature. I'm more inclined towards the posh dog, mostly because I think that helps Rogers fit in with a crowd that isn't his; and sure, he is a cunning man (like a fox daemon would evoke) but I think a dog like a Dobermann suits Rogers best, in the book at least. A fox would suit show! Rogers better, but the dog suits him too physically (tall, slender, mean looking), so I'm sticking with the dog.
For the General, I think a hawk. A bird of prey. He was a soldier and he was fucking shrewd to send a man to die in such an inconspicuous way. Birds of prey Daemons have very passionate humans - Ma Costa, Tony Costa, Anthony Hassall, as well as Bud Schlesinger and Marcel Delamare with their owls - but while owls are tame and introvert, hawks tend to be extreme and out there, lashing out and being menacing with ease. This was a natural choice for me, although I also considered eagles for him later, but changed my mind. (On my notes I wrote "def not an owl" lmao)
For Mrs Rogers, I think a mouse would suit her, and I know this is painfully obvious, but that's the vibe she gives me. A small person, being coerced and oppressed by a petty tyrant, and she just lets things steer her by, absolutely not in control of her life. I also gave her a same sex type of daemon, because she just has that uncanny aura, I don't know how to explain it; I can see that affecting her life since childhood, and steering her towards a man like Rogers, who would take advantage of her loneliness. Same sex daemons are rare and the example we had was in someone extremely sensitive, and I feel that in Mrs Rogers.
And lastly, Tony Marston, and this one I had too many options, but I opted for a Margay, who was suggested to me in fact. It's a feline daemon, very slick and lithe but also very ethereal looking, which I think suits Marston: handsome but lacking substance (not lacking so much substance in the show tho lmao get it? cause he did cocaine? a substance? Haha please don't unfollow me). Frankly, because he dies first I didn't give this too much thought, but I knew it had to be a wild daemon, quick and lithe.
Honorable mention to Fred Narracott and his seagull daemon. Thanks for asking this anon, I had a blast!
#asks#hdm au: attwn#and then there were none#thanks for the ask anon I've been waiting for it for so long lmao#long post
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2, 3, 5, 11 for Devil May Care 💕
(Devil May Care is a character study of Lord Asriel, specifically his relationship with his daughter, built around every time they see each other. You can read it here!).
2. What scene did you first put down?
I write chronologically, so the first scene I wrote was the first scene of the fic, where Asriel knows that Marisa is in labour across the city and is waiting for news. This scene is a prime example of why dæmons are so fun to play with: Asriel’s working, distracting himself, confused and annoyed about why he’s struggling to focus, resolutely convinced that he’s not worried at all, and Stelmaria’s pacing like “i am. stressed.” I like that scene :)
3. What’s your favourite line of narration?
Okay, this fic is 25k words long, so you’ll have to accept a couple of sections...
“He opened his mouth to ask about the child, if it was well too, he supposed, if it had the right number of fingers, the right number of toes, the things people seemed to care about when confronted with their progeny for the first time. But he found himself staring again instead, soundless, not just at the wispy hair but at its face, his own child’s face, the tiny rosebud lips and mottled pink cheeks and a ferocious scrunched-up scowl, which had his lip twitching, the ghost of a smile.”
“The bemusing sight of her scaling a sycamore tree or scrabbling across the roof of the Master’s Lodge became instantly enraging when he’d catch sight of Pantalaimon monkey-formed beside her, all the better to aid her in disobeying his orders. His fur was brown – a spider monkey, perhaps – and his face sweet, nothing like that vicious golden bastard, but the effect was enough (made worse by the lamentable fact that he’d woken up that morning in Marisa’s bed; the scratches on his back were still smarting, and her scent still had its teeth in his collar). The dressing-down he’d given Lyra for that – well, for ignoring the Master’s rules, as far as she knew – had drained the colour from her cheeks in a second, and he was glad to have given her a fright. Worse was the time he’d spotted her charming a man older than him into buying her a bar of chocolatl in the Covered Market – he’d been perusing telescope lenses in a shop window nearby – and then had to listen to her lie about the sweet’s origins, telling him she’d bought it herself without a moment’s hesitation. He’d had her mouth washed out with soap for that, and he’d noted her furious tears with satisfaction. He was doing her a favour. She’d appreciate that one day.”
“Now she was shouting that he wasn’t her father – fickle child, she’d been desperately proud not two minutes ago – and that she didn’t love him and he didn’t love her, and he resisted the urge to scoff; Lyra knew little of anything, least of all love. Still a girl, not yet a young woman, even, still oblivious, it seemed, as to how her life had been shaped by ecclesiastical tyranny since the moment the embryo that had set their genes in motion had implanted itself in her mother. He snapped a petty retort then, and she snapped one back.”
5. What part was hardest to write?
The final few scenes, which are the Asriel-POV retellings of their scenes together in the trilogy. I don’t like to use too much of Pullman’s verbatim dialogue (I used a few lines in this fic though, to make clear where a missing scene of mine would fit in the canon text) but that meant that these scenes were very narration-heavy with very sparse dialogue, which breaks up the flow for the reader and isn’t how I prefer to write. But it had to be done!
11. What do you like best about this fic?
The prose. I think it’s the best thing I’ve written in terms of the quality of the writing (maybe tied with Force of Nature), and I put together every sentence with care. I also think that it’s a very robust exploration of his character! I worked hard to connect the softer Asriel of LBS with the colder, harder man we meet in HDM, and even to reconcile the Asriel who whispers to his baby beneath the moon one week and then plans to leave Brytain during a Great Flood when that same baby lives in a fragile building on the riverbank the next. I think it’s believable, and the process of writing it still enhances my reading of the trilogy now. I’m really proud of it!
Thank you @atenexo for sending these questions! I’m so glad you asked about Devil May Care. It’s not one of my more popular stories but I think there’s a lot of depth to it, and it’s nice to get to expand on that :)
Send me the name of one of my fics and some questions about it!
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@abluescarfonwaston as I said I got like 4 stars for this meme and no specific requests, so I’m just going to talk at length about the fic I have the most to say about, which is sandstorms and hazy dawns
hooray!!
She comes to him in the night, breath hot against his ear, and says, “can we keep them?”
This opening scene takes place between the 2nd and 3rd scenes of the story... this is probably needlessly confusing as the rest of the story is in chronological order but, this is where I wanted to start & I can do what I want.
“No,” he says.
He feels her weight shift as she lies down beside him. “Why not?”
“You know why.”
She noses at his neck, at the side of his head, nuzzling him. He feels the beginnings of a purr down in her chest, feels it in her and inside himself. “I like them.”
He touches her head, burying his fingers in her coarse fur the way he hasn’t for years. It’s been a long time, since they were as close as this. When they are together she sleeps an arm’s length from him. For days at a time they’re apart. He knows her only as a flash of white on the edge of his vision, a scent in the air. She wanders for miles, for weeks, following her own path, and he sees her not at all.
so let’s talk about the break up!!
Geralt & Dag used to have a more ‘normal’ person + separated daemon relationship (like most witchers), in which they would only split up for long periods out of practical necessity. they broke up for several years following events in blaviken. here is my extremely rough rendering of how that went
geralt: why you let this happen. you’re supposed to be my conscience :(
dag: umm how is this my fault? you asshole?
geralt: fuck off
dag: fine i will!! *fucks off*
geralt: wait no i didnt mean it :(
i have no intention of ever writing this scene as i don’t think i could do it justice. in my head he also throws a rock at her tho. bcos he’s an angry boy & an asshole.
however!! the strain in their relationship would not have started there. when i was writing this fic i was imagining that the fact of being separated would in itself put a strain on any person/daemon relationship, which i felt was implied by the HDM books. & then since writing it I read The Secret Commonwealth which more or less confirms that separating does just cause people’s relationships with their daemons to break down sometimes.
I think I said this in another post but, I imagine that the newly acquired ability to have separate experiences would make them more and more able to seriously disagree on things. and physically separating for long periods (even if only for practical reasons) would force them to get better at functioning alone which could in turn make them more and more emotionally distant from each other.
He scratches at the join of her neck and jaw, and that purr grows, long and deep and contented. She lays her head down beside his, and he holds her. He’s aware of her tail flicking, restless. She’ll be awake a while yet and so will she. They always sleep and wake at the same times, no matter how many miles separate them.
Geralt loves her, his lion, his dæmon. He loves her with every fibre of his being. He loves her strength, her grace. He loves that she can take any shape she pleases, be a bird or a fish or a snake when the moment calls for it. He loves the distance she can walk from him. He would not have her any other way. He cannot imagine her any other way.
i was always going to have witchers w separating daemons for this fic. however i got talked into the idea of witchers w mutable daemons by someone in a witcher discord I’m in... whoever you are I have forgotten your tumblr so can’t credit you for your idea properly sorry!!
i was originally reluctant bcos it seemed to me that mutable daemons implied innocence & youthfulness, which is kind of at odds with how witchers seem to be perceived. however following the above discord conversation i realised it can also imply 1) that witchers don’t really have ‘fixed’ personalities, which ties in with their supposedly not having feelings; 2) ‘innocence’ but in a negative way, in the sense of immaturity & not having a properly developed mind and sense of morality.
obviously none of the above is actually true and witcher daemons are just shapeshifting adult daemons but, that is how people perceive it.
additionally, given how superpowered witchers are it seemed to fit that they would have found a way around all the weaknesses that having a daemon bring.
He knows that she loves him too. He understand why sometimes she despises him. He has cursed her, with his words and his thoughts, and she hates him for it. She has left him alone, and he hates her for it.
They say witchers feel nothing and they are not wrong. It doesn’t pain him when they are apart. He hasn’t felt that pain since he was a child. He barely remembers what it feels like.
She stops purring. Her breath puffs against his skin. “Stop thinking so hard,” she says. “Go to sleep.” Her tail has stopped twitching. “Go to sleep.”
*
“I think you and I might have got off on the wrong foot – as they say.”
this scene is supposed to take place offscreen shortly following the gutpunch haha
“White hair – no visible dæmon – two very – very scary looking swords – I know who you are.”
I don’t like when daemon fics recap entire scenes w the addition of daemons but I wanted to get this 1 change in so. here it is in a brief flashback. i elected to take out ‘big old loner’ bcos 1) listing 3 things is neater 2) I felt that not having a visible daemon would be a more notable characteristic for jaskier to point out.
not having a visible daemon is not necessarily a ‘tell’ that someone is a witcher or part of another demographic that can separate as people’s daemons are just out of sight sometimes.
It had surprised him, the ease with which that word visible had tripped off the bard’s tongue; that unhesitating acknowledgement that just because he couldn’t see something did not mean it didn’t exist.
He says, “hm.”
“Aren’t you going to ask my name?”
“No,” he says.”
“You can call me Jaskier,” says the bard. With a jerk of his shoulder he indicates the songbird-dæmon perched atop his lute. “This is Tansy.” The dæmon peeps a greeting. Receiving no response the bard goes on, “she’s a nightingale which I think is very sexy of her. You know,” he adds. “Because I’m a singer. And she’s a – a songbird.”
i realised while i was writing this that jaskier never actually introduces himself on screen. which seems like an oversight on the part of the writers tbh. means we can do what we want tho.
as i said in the a/n on the fic itself, I got the idea of giving Jaskier a nightingale daemon from two halves of a whole. usually I try and avoid just straight up copying other people’s form ideas but i just. fell in love with nightingale.
other forms I’ve seen for jaskier seem to tend VERY strongly towards birds which I find interesting! i’ve think I’ve seen maybe 1 daemon fic where he doesn’t have a bird daemon.
moving on to the name! this is tansy:
I do intend to get into this in potential future installments of the series, but Tansy is not her birth name (none of the main daemons in this AU use their birth names, completely independently of each other). she started going by Tansy relatively young and when he later changed his to match.
I think Jaskier settled relatively young - maybe 2 years before the time this fic is set - and being the overdramatic little punk he is hasn’t quite got over the ‘have i mentioned how cool my daemon’s settled form is today’ phase yet.
& finally before moving on, p much the first thing we learn about Jaskier & Tansy is that he is very happy and at ease with her and the form that she takes. this is important.
He grunts an acknowledgement – if only to get the bard to stop explaining.
“You’re not the best conversationalist, are you?”
A sudden tension, inside his chest. She’s close. He looks up and there she is, slipping into view on the clifftop.
“It’s just usually when you have a conversation you take it in turns to speak,” says the bard. “Rather than one person doing all the – oh.”
Dag makes her way down the ragged cliff, leaping from perch to perch in languid motions till her white paws touch the earth and she’s beside him. Stooping Geralt runs his hand over her head in greeting. Her eyes narrow.
this is another thing I have mentioned Elsewhere but i did fall in love w geralt’s daemon’s name in two halves of a whole (linked above) and went looking for something which had a similar feel to it. sorry.
i’m aware that Dag is technically a man’s name but given the kind of, inherent gender-bending nature of opposite sex daemons it seemed appropriate.
i confess i was also thinking of the dag in fury road.
seen a lot more variety in daemon forms for Geralt than jaskier! most common choices seem to be 1) wolf and 2) roach is his daemon. I’m really not into ‘existing animal companion as daemon’ bcos I’m firmly in the camp of ‘daemons as a manifestation of a person’s inner voice’ rather than ‘daemons as Companions’ so I can’t get behind daemon!roach (I actually find it actively offputting gfdlkjfskdh)
wolf is a p good fit imo but I find it a bit on the nose and I wanted to do something different. so. he is a giant kitty cat. & as someone (I forget who sorry) correctly identified she is leucistic rather than albino.
white mountain lions do exist but best as i can tell there’s like 1 photo on the entire internet. bummer.
He’s aware of the restlessly silent presence of the bard behind them shifting his weight, his dæmon fluttering about his head, aware perhaps that he’s intruding on something intimate.
Geralt straightens, and the bard takes that as his cue to begin again. He clears his throat and says, “what can I call her?”
It’s been a long time, since anyone has asked for her name so brazenly; in fact he isn’t sure anyone ever has. Geralt shoots the bard a look.
“Well, you must call her something,” he says, unintimidated.
“I do,” says Geralt. “You don’t.”
The nightingale-dæmon, now resting upon her bard’s shoulder, is eying Dag curiously, but she’s cautious enough not to approach.
one thing I’ve noticed when re-reading HDM is that characters very rarely refer to other people’s daemons by names, even when they know them. generally i’ve loosely kept to this in my own daemon AUs bcos 1) i find that when fics us each daemon’s name every time i get a bit lost as to whose daemon is whose and 2) I like the idea that using someone else’s daemon name is a very hm. intimate thing. hence geralt is reluctant to call tansy by her name, even though he knows it.
“Right,” says the bard. “Well, then.”
*
Come morning, Dag is gone, but not gone far. Out of sight, but not so far away he can’t feel her. She’ll come back when it pleases her.
He readies Roach for the path ahead, half-listening to the lilt of conversation that carries from the bushes; Jaskier’s voice, and the pretty voice of his dæmon.
The bard stumbles out into view, tousled and bleary from a night on the ground. “G’morning.” He ambles over to join Geralt.
i genuinely wanted to specify here that jaskier was having a piss in the bushes but i couldn’t find a way to get it in that didn’t seem kind of tasteless. that is what is happening here tho.
“What will it take to get rid of you?” says Geralt.
“My, someone woke up on the wrong side of the – ground,” says Jaskier. “More than yesterday. Where are we off to next?” He puts his hand on Roach’s saddle. Geralt swats it away.
“I’m going north,” he says. “You go wherever you want.”
“Maybe I want to go with you,” says Jaskier. In a flutter of wings his dæmon comes to rest on the pommel of Roach’s saddle, and he can’t shoo her away. He wouldn’t dare put his hands near her.
They say of witchers that they have no souls. They say their dæmons are something else, something monstrous. They say they have no respect for the great taboo. When they see him mothers’ dæmons snatch their children away.
“You don’t,” says Geralt.
“You sound awfully sure,” says Jaskier.
You don’t know what you’re asking for, Geralt wants to say. He doesn’t know how to say it in a way the bard would understand. He glowers at the nightingale-dæmon until she takes the hint and flies back to Jaskier’s shoulder.
He feels Dag before he hears her, the padding of her feet on the ground as she emerges from the bushes, the soft sound of her breathing.
Jaskier nudges him. “You don’t fool me,” he says. “You’re a big pussycat really. Don’t think I didn’t hear her purring all last night.”
did u know that mountain lions are the largest cat than can purr! here is a video of one purring. it’s very cute but also a little scary.
“You’re imagining things,” says Geralt.
“I absolutely am not,” says Jaskier. “She was practically shaking the ground.”
At that Dag actually laughs, a short and bubbling laugh of real amusement. Geralt shoots her a look. Jaskier is looking at her too, looking at her curiously, startled by this, the first human sound he’s heard her make.
Looking away from them Dag stretches out on the ground, lounging as if she has nowhere to be. Jaskier tears his eyes away from her and says, “is she always a lion? It’s just –” His dæmon pecks him hard on the neck. “Ow – it’s just I heard witchers’ dæmons don’t settle.”
He fastens the straps on Roach’s saddle bag, and his hands still. “They aren’t unsettled,” he says. “They’re mutable.”
“I don’t follow,” says Jaskier.
“They settle,” he says. “But they keep the ability to change, after settling.”
“Ah, I see,” says Jaskier, nodding. “But is she –” His dæmon fastens her beak around his ear lobe and tugs. “Ow – ow – alright – there’s no need to be like that,” he mutters to her.
“I’m leaving,” Geralt says. “As I said. Go where you please.”
The bard and his dæmon follow him north.
*
Chimney smoke rises down in the valley. He doesn’t know the name of the town.
Dag is waiting for him, draped in the branches of a tree. She’s been scouting ahead, or perhaps she’s restless, or perhaps both.
She yawns, showing off her teeth. “Did you lose them?”
“You know I didn’t,” says Geralt. He can hear Jaskier’s voice behind them in the woods, and so can she.
Her tail swishes. “Why not?” she says, and he knows at once what she means.
bouncing off what I was saying above re ‘manifestation of a person’s inner voice’. I like taking opportunities to show that a person & their daemon are 2 halves of the same mind.
“You know why,” he says.
“Tell me.”
And she says it in that particular tone, a tone with steel in it, and he has to answer. “He’s soft,” he says. “He’s young. What he’s asking for will break him. He doesn’t understand.”
“Hm,” she says.
“It’s best he realises sooner,” he says.
“You don’t know how soft he is,” she says. “You don’t know him at all.”
“You’ve seen her,” he says. “That’s what he is.”
Tansy is delicate – pretty – fragile. She weighs almost nothing. She comes close by him as few dæmons will and every time he tenses for fear that he might touch her, without meaning to – hurt her – break her.
u know that post about the person whose boyfriend was afraid of holding babies in case he didn’t know his own strength and accidentally hurt them? thats geralt.
Dag’s tail is moving in the air, no longer swishing, flicking in sharp, angry jerks. “We both know that’s not how it works.”
He knows what she’s thinking. It hangs between them, unspoken. Another little bird dæmon they had once known, a pretty, charming robin-dæmon who had melted away like smoke before his eyes.
I’ve only seen 1 daemon fic featuring renfri (and I don’t think it was strictly a conventional daemon au) and it gave her a shrike daemon, which i do think is fitting. however as w wolf for geralt I find it a bit on the nose.
additionally, giving renfri a daemon has the potential to kind of, shift things wrt the ambiguity of her character, so you have a choice to make wrt whether you want to shift it more towards ‘she’s outwardly scary’ or ‘she’s outwardly innocent’ and I went for ‘outwardly innocent’, in part so I could do this specific parallel but also bcos I just preferred that vibe.
i went for european robin bcos it’s a very nice match for renfri’s aesthetic, and 1) I’m a slut for aesthetics and 2) helps to make sure readers will know who this is about.
He might say don’t. Don’t make me think of it. But he doesn’t. This thing has been unspoken between them for so many years. He doesn’t know what will happen if he breaks the silence.
They’ve been on the road for five – almost six weeks. He’s growing used to the chatter and the birdsong. Jaskier hasn’t complained – hasn’t complained much – hasn’t complained as much as he’d expected, not even when his feet bled in his fancy shoes. He’s generous enough to share the coin he gets from playing. Geralt’s had worse travelling companions.
Jaskier blunders out of the trees. “There you are,” he says. “Trying to shake us?”
“Yes,” says Geralt.
Jaskier snorts, as if that’s a joke. He looks out over the valley, the distant strings of smoke hazy in the twilight. “Do you think they have an inn?”
“I don’t care,” says Geralt.
“I want to sleep in a real bed,” says Jaskier. “And I want a bath.”
“I’m not stopping you,” says Geralt.
“It’s going to be freezing tonight,” says Jaskier.
“I’m used to it,” says Geralt.
Jaskier nudges him. “C’mon,” he says. “You could use a bath yourself. I don’t like to say so, but you are a very – unusual smelling person.”
“You’ve said so several times,” says Geralt.
“Have I?” says Jaskier innocently.
“Yes,” says his dæmon.
“So I have,” he says.
“Go and find an inn if you want,” says Geralt. “I’m not stopping you.”
“Stop being ridiculous,” says Jaskier.
“I’m being ridiculous?” says Geralt.
“Yes,” says Jaskier. “Alright, how about this. I’ll buy you a drink.”
“I can buy my own drinks,” says Geralt.
“But I’m offering,” says Jaskier. “A kind and magnanimous offer, out of the goodness of my heart. And also I think it’s going to rain and I want to get in doors, so stop being ridiculous.”
“Hm,” says Geralt.
They go to the inn. It’s begun to rain by the time they reach the town. Tansy hides herself away within Jaskier’s cloak. Dag doesn’t follow them down the valley, preferring to find a dry spot in the woods, preferring to avoid prying eyes.
The inn is crowded with people sheltering from the rain; two more strangers with hidden dæmons don’t get a second look. The rafters are lined with bird-dæmons, safely away from the crowd. Sitting alone in his corner he watches their movements, the beating of their wings. There was a time Dag might have changed her shape and joined them. A space like this is never comfortable for a large dæmon.
reading back over this story I think it’s hm easy to think of Dag as the Emotionally Mature one of them but she’s the one whose making a choice to like... hide from Regular People and has been doing it habitually for a long time, either by changing her form or just leaving him alone.
Geralt & his daemon do this for a number of reasons I think, in part for practical reasons, but also because he doesn’t want people go be able to get a fix on what kind of person that he is, and on some level wants people to see him and be immediately repulsed by his not having a daemon... this is a self-destructive behaviour that Dag is an active participant in. stop it Dag you’re supposed to be the smart one.
There’s a bard playing, raising his voice to be heard over the crowd. He doesn’t sing as nicely as Jaskier. He’s made a poor choice of song, too, a quiet ballad, one of many about the beauty of the touch.
“Her hand upon my dæmon, the first in my life – it was like roses in the summer and I knew then she’d be my wife –”
1) i hate writing rhyming poetry and i am very bad at it. got away with it this time i hope bcos this is supposed to be kind of trite.
2) this is is what we call Planting. lol.
Jaskier pushes his way through the press back to their table. “As promised,” he says, sliding Geralt a mug of ale. Geralt grunts a thank you.
Jaskier sits, and regards him. Tansy flutters down to perch on the rim of his mug, dipping in her beak. Absently Jaskier strokes her downy back and Geralt tracks the tiny, intimate motion with his eyes. “Is this it, then?” says Jaskier.
one thing I was trying to convey throughout this fic is that spending time with Jaskier & Tansy is the first time Geralt has been around someone who has a Normal relationship with their daemon (as opposed to the ‘it’s complicated’ that geralt & dag have) for a long time and he’s very aware of the contrast.
“Is this what?” says Geralt.
“Is this how it goes?” says Jaskier. “It’s just that I can’t help but notice there hasn’t been a lot of witchering.”
“That’s not a word,” says Geralt, and takes a draft of ale.
“What?” says Jaskier. “Witchering?” Geralt grunts. “Maybe I’ll put it in a song and get people saying it.”
“Don’t you dare,” says Geralt, and Jaskier laughs a little.
“Really, though,” he says. “Is this it?”
“How many monsters do you think there are in the world?” says Geralt.
“How should I know?” says Jaskier. Still perched on his mug Tansy whistles along with the ballad. A moment later Jaskier’s fingers begin to tap along. “What d’you do when you can’t get any work?”
“I make do,” says Geralt.
“Hmm,” says Jaskier. Sensing he isn’t going to get any meaningful answers – or perhaps just bored – his gaze wanders to the bard. For a few moments he listens quietly. “Have you ever done it?”
“What?” says Geralt.
“You know.” Jaskier ducks his head in the direction of the bard.
“Been a bard?” says Geralt.
“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” says Jaskier, mock-stern.
“No,” says Geralt. “Not like that.”
He’s had another’s hands on his dæmon, more than once. He and Dag have sworn to themselves: never again.
“Hm,” says Jaskier. “No. Me neither.” Again he strokes Tansy, perhaps imagining it.
Tansy is still whistling along with the bard, giving the final notes of the ballad a few extra flourishes, and Geralt catches himself thinking that she and Jaskier would sing it better.
*
“I’ll be having the bath first – if you don’t mind,” says Jaskier.
“Hm,” says Geralt.
“Though don’t think I’m going to let you get away without bathing,” says Jaskier. “I know what you’re like, and, and your aroma is really starting to bother me.”
“Hm!” pipes up Tansy in agreement.
“Find someone else to annoy, then,” says Geralt. He sits on the edge of the bed, still in his armour. Jaskier is meandering about the washstand, unfastening his doublet, restless as ever.
He tosses his doublet onto the bed, and looks Geralt up and down. “You’re not planning on sleeping in that, are you?”
“Maybe,” says Geralt.
“What, do you think the inn’s going to get attacked in the night by – werewolves, or something?” says Jaskier.
“It wouldn’t be the first time,” says Geralt.
“I can never tell when you’re joking,” says Jaskier, and unlacing his undershirt as he goes he wanders behind the screen.
“I don’t joke,” says Geralt.
“See?” Jaskier’s undershirt drapes over the top of the screen. Tansy, perched beside it, tugs at it with her beak, neatening it up. “There you go again.”
one of the biggest (& most underrated imo) challenges when writing a daemon au is characterising daemons... they’ve got to be like, recognisably the same person as the character, but at the same time ideally their own entity with their own personality. i found Dag came quite naturally, probably bcos Geralt is a character who definitely hides a lot of aspects of his personality, but Tansy was harder.
i imagined Tansy being very quiet with people who aren’t Jaskier & also very much the ‘put your clothes away don’t leave them all over the floor’ type of daemon.
Alone – or what passes for alone – Geralt begins to divest himself of his armour.
Jaskier’s trousers appear atop the screen. A moment later there’s a gentle splashing of water. A sigh.
geralt is definitely not thinking about the fact that jaskier is undressing. nope. he is not thinking about the fact that jaskier is naked in the same room as him. this is of no interest to him at all. He Does Not Care.
“This soap smells like pig fat,” he remarks.
“That’s because it’s made of pig fat,” says Geralt.
“Well. Yes,” says Jaskier.
Tansy is looking at him curiously from atop the screen. Caught staring, she opens her wings and drops out of sight to join Jaskier.
“Does Dag not come indoors?” says Jaskier.
“Now and then,” Geralt answers, before he has fully processed what Jaskier said. His hands still on his armour. “When did she tell you her name?”
this is something I do intend to cover in a future fic but I also don’t intend for it to be especially dramatic
“A few weeks ago,” says Jaskier. “I didn’t think much of it. Why? Do you mind?”
“Yes,” says Geralt.
Behind the screen water splashes. “Why on earth would you mind?” says Jaskier. Geralt doesn’t answer. “Well – I suppose that’s another one for the list of things I’ll never understand about you – like your sense of humour, and why you spend hours talking to your horse when you’ve a perfectly good dæmon.”
an extra dimension of geralt talking to his horse in this au is that he is used to having his daemon there.
Rising, Geralt begins setting his armour on the chair. “She isn’t always there,” he says.
“Well, yes, but it’s not as if she goes very far,” says Jaskier.
“Sometimes she does,” says Geralt.
In a sudden fluttering of wings, Tansy reappears atop the screen.
“How far does she go?” says Jaskier.
“As far as she pleases,” says Geralt.
A gentle sloshing of water. Tansy turns on her perch, peering down at her bard, something wordless passing between them. “Does it,” says Jaskier. “I mean, do you – I don’t know how to ask.”
“Spit it out,” says Geralt.
“Can you still feel her?”
“Yes.”
“Does it still hurt?”
“No.”
so this scene is (obvs) a kind of a call back to That One Bath Scene in canon. this is the first time they’ve been hm ‘domestic’ together and it’s a little awkward, especially for geralt, who is not used to it. all of which is in contrast with how comfortable they are around each other later.
& this is the most frank (probably) conversation they have over the course of the entire fic and it happens when they are physically screened from each other. and also jaskier is literally naked while geralt is opening up to him. this is all very notable for obvious reasons I hope.
“I see,” says Jaskier, though Geralt doubts he does. It’s difficult for humans to get their heads around the way he and Dag experience the world. Most aren’t interested in trying.
geralt here actively ignoring the fact that jaskier is making an effort to understand
He hears the water moving, and the padding of Jaskier’s bare feet on the floorboards. His clothes are whisked back down from the screen and half a minute later he emerges, his hair towel-damp. “All yours,” he says.
Geralt sits in the still-warm water, and soaks, and listens as Jaskier putters about on the other side of the screen, getting ready to sleep, listens to the steady back and forth of his conversation with Tansy. He hums, and she whistles along.
uh so if you’re an introvert I imagine you’ve probably had the experience of being Alone and Unobserved for the first time in an uncomfortably long time... i have this experience every day when i leave work fjgksfkgjfg
tansy & jaskier talk p much non-stop when they’re (semi)alone
When at last, the water cold, he ventures out from behind the screen, Jaskier is on the bed, scribbling something down in his little book.
“You can have the bed,” says Geralt. “I’ll sleep on the floor.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Jaskier shifts over towards the wall. “We’ll both fit. I don’t mind if you don’t.” He glances up from his writing. “Though just to warn you, I’m reliably informed that I kick.”
“He does,” says Tansy from the headboard.
The room smells like candle smoke, and pig fat. The scent of the outdoors still clings to them to their clothes, to Jaskier’s hair. He sleeps facing the wall, the warmth of his body pressed to Geralt’s side. Tansy sleeps with her head tucked beneath her wing. Geralt lies awake, listening to Jaskier’s breathing.
geralt is not affected by this situation at all. he is not even a little bit uncomfortably attracted. nope. nuh-uh.
they don’t ever share a bed in the show but i gather it’s a normal thing to do in the books so for the purposes of this fic, this is a thing that it later becomes normal for them to do.
He mumbles now and then in his sleep. And true to his word, he does kick.
*
Morning comes grey, but dry. They eat breakfast in the tavern. Jaskier chatters, about the weather, the food, the song he was writing in the evening. Geralt tunes him out, and lets his eyes roam over the other patrons. His gaze falls on a pair of old men smoking long pipes. They’re looking at him, at the absence beside him, the empty space he occupies. Caught staring they look away.
Jaskier pokes his arm. “Are you listening to me?” he says.
“Hm?” says Geralt.
“I said you’re even more sullen than usual this morning,” says Jaskier. “What’s got into you? Trouble sleeping?”
Geralt turns his attention to his porridge. “You kick.”
“I’m aware,” says Jaskier. “I did warn you. Well, I dare say –”
A woman is approaching their table, purposefully, stoically. Geralt recognises her attitude. Jaskier is savvy enough to guess.
“You’re the witcher?” she says, as if it’s a question. Her dæmon, a large, horned beetle, clings silently to her sleeve.
always hard w daemon AUs to strike a balance between making it clear to the audience that everyone in this world has a daemon & including superfluous information about daemons who aren’t relevant to the story. originally didn’t include this woman’s but then decided I didn’t have enough background daemons.
this is something i actually paid a lot of attention to while reading the secret commonwealth bcos i wanted to see how pullman handles it.
additionally I think insect daemons are under-represented in daemon au fic so I have been trying to get in as many as I can.
“Well, he’s a witcher,” says Jaskier. Geralt nudges him to be quiet.
She says, “my sister has a job for you.”
*
The wind is picking up. The day is getting thin. Ahead, on the hilltop, the dark outline of a hay barn, stark and flat against the grey sky.
He dismounts, and ties Roach to a tree.
“Is Dag not joining us?” says Jaskier.
“She comes and goes as she pleases,” says Geralt.
“What, did you two have an argument or something?” says Jaskier. Geralt grunts. “Did you? About what?”
“You,” says Geralt truthfully, and Jaskier laughs as if he’s made a joke.
Dag is in the air somewhere above them. Irritated with him as she may be, she hasn’t gone far, this time. She’s watching the valley, her keen hawk’s eyes searching for any untoward movement.
He starts to climb the hill. Jaskier makes to follow. Turning Geralt holds up a hand, halting him in his tracks. “Stay with Roach.”
Jaskier adjusts the strap of his lute. “I can handle it.”
“This won’t be pleasant,” says Geralt.
“Honestly,” says Jaskier. “How do you expect me to write about all this if you never let me see anything?”
“I don’t,” says Geralt.
“Anyone would think you didn’t want me to immortalise your deeds in song,” says Jaskier.
“I don’t,” says Geralt.
“It’s stifling to my creativity, not to mention rude,” says Jaskier. “And wholly unjustified. I have a strong stomach.”
Wavering, Geralt glances at Tansy, on Jaskier’s shoulder. She hms in agreement. He drops his hand. “If you’re sure.”
In the doorway of the hay barn Jaskier turns his face away and retches. “Oh gods,” he moans. “Oh heavens. Fuck me –”
“Go and wait with Roach if you want,” says Geralt.
One hand braced against the door frame, the other over his mouth, Jaskier looks at him. He takes his head from his mouth. He shakes his head. Tansy flutters in the doorway, from the shadow to the light, and resolves. She flies into the barn, up, up to the rafters, and there looks down upon the bodies.
This is where they have brought their dead, this most remote outpost of their village, with the spiders and the rats and the dust. They brought the bodies here, a dozen or more of them, and piled them up, meaning to burn them, meaning to burn this lonely place to the ground.
They’re unmarked. The air is thick with the smell of death. The most recent lies near the door, her eyes open, staring up at the roof. She’s young. Her hair is fair. She’s dressed in an apron, as if she’d just stepped out of her kitchen – to the water pump, perhaps – when she was attacked.
One death such as this, two, they’d bury. This many, in as many days, they know what haunts them, and they fear it like nothing else.
“What killed them?” says Tansy from the rafters.
“Hm,” says Geralt. He crouches to look at the dead girl, to be sure there are no marks on her, as the village healer had said. Taking off his gloves, he touches her face, tilting her head towards the light.
why does geralt take off his gloves. bcos later i had a scene where he’s washing his hands and then it was pointed out to me that he normally wears clothes and so wouldn’t need to. shush.
It isn’t his place to interfere with how these people treat their dead; but this isn’t right. There’s nothing to fear here. They are only dead. The danger, the thing that killed them, has passed. There’s nothing to be gained in consigning their dead to this bleak, anonymous fate.
A scuffling, above. Tansy moving on the rafter.
“Geralt?” says Jaskier. “What killed them?”
“Shh.”
Geralt glances up, at Tansy. She’s perched quivering on the rafter. “What is it?” he says.
“Something moved.”
tansy being a very hm fastidious sort of person translates to being quite perceptive
“I didn’t see anything,” says Jaskier.
“You weren’t looking,” says Tansy.
Geralt rises. He reaches for his sword.
The barn reeks of death. In the semi-darkness he had taken it for one of the bodies piled around it. It’s rising now to its feet, its movements stilted, unnatural. You might take it for a lumbering thing, a slow thing you could outrun. You’d be wrong.
Tansy takes flight, flashing in and out of the light from the doorway, and as she does so it begins to move, crawling forward over the piled bodies with the speed of a darting insect, snatching, grasping at the air above it. Jaskier cries out. “Run!” Geralt barks, raising his sword.
this whole scene was hard for a number of reasons... firstly i don’t know a lot about witcher monsters and spent a while trying to find one that fit the kind of scene I wanted before saying ‘fuck it’ and inventing my own
and secondly I don’t know about anyone else but uhh whenever i want a story to include an action scene in my head it’s just like ‘and then a fight happens!!’
+ w this one as well as planning out the fight i had the extra issue of, how it manages to get hold of Tansy which I. hope i explained satisfactorily.
The sight of silver gives the dæmophage pause. It halts, its eyes wide and staring, its shoulders heaving. It’s a fluid creature and it no longer needs its human disguise. Its limbs stretch, its spine bends at an unnatural angle, its slit nostrils flaring. It has no mouth. It has no need of one. Frost spreads from its fingers, coating its hands and arms, the bodies beneath it, the packed dirt floor.
He’s aware of laboured breathing behind him. He’s aware, suddenly, that Jaskier has not run. He risks a glance over his shoulder and sees him pressed to the far side of the door frame, gripping the wood with one white-knuckled hand. His other hand is held, clenched, to his chest. The colour has drained from his face.
“Run,” Geralt says. “Run!” Still Jaskier doesn’t move, and stepping back, not taking his eyes off the dæmophage, Geralt reaches blindly behind himself, finds Jaskier and shoves him backwards.
He resists, and in that resistance Geralt feels what has happened, feels it before Jaskier lets out a pained sound, before he says, choked, “Tansy.” For it’s not the resistance of one who doesn’t want to go; it’s the resistance of one tethered, of a tied-up dog trying to run from a fire.
The dæmophage is crawling forward again, one-handed. It’s holding something in its other hand, in a hand thick with ice. He can’t see what it is. He knows what it is. “Geralt –” Jaskier wheezes, and whatever he means to say next he can’t find the breath.
There are many vile ways to die, in the world. Few worse than your dæmon becoming meal to a creature like this, the life crushed from it, your soul slowly, torturously drained away.
He takes off the dæmophage’s arm first, the arm that holds Tansy, and its whole body jerks spraying dark blood across the walls, across the bodies. As its severed arm hits the ground its fingers fall open and he sees her, a fistful of icy brown feathers, but there’s no time to dwell on her, no time to dwell on if he was fast enough, if there is anything left to save. The dæmophage lashes out at him with its other hand, with its sharpening claws; he dodges, swings, and its arm falls to the ground, cut at the elbow.
It takes two strikes to cleave off its head. Its body remains half-upright, swaying, blood bubbling from its neck. He stands over it, sword raised, breathing hard. They’re fluid creatures. Half-shadow. You can never be sure.
It falls. It is still. He lowers his sword.
Behind him Jaskier falls heavily to the ground. Geralt turns to find him on his knees, shuddering all over, gasping, but still conscious, his eyes alert. He slumps forward, catching himself on his hands, and empties his stomach onto the dirt.
“Tansy,” he croaks. “Oh gods, Tansy –” He sees her, still in the dead creature’s hand, melted frost dripping from her feathers. He tries to rise. His legs won’t hold him.
She had been in its grip less than a minute. It must have felt like an age. Geralt is surprised he didn’t faint. Perhaps he’s made of sterner stuff than he looks.
so I don’t imagine this being as much a matter of Inner Strength as much as (as established early) Jaskier & Tansy having a very close and intimate bond, which in turn is a reflection of Jaskier being at ease with himself and the kind of person he is.
in short this isn’t a matter of jaskier being like, exceptionally brave so much as being like ‘hey! don’t you dare! fuck you!’
Stepping closer Geralt takes his arm and heaves. “I told you to wait with Roach,” he says. But the look Jaskier gives him, of mute, numb disbelief at his coldness, silences any further reproach.
He hauls Jaskier to his feet, but Jaskier tugs his arm from his grip. He wipes his face on his sleeve and staggers forward, falling to his knees once again beside her, reaching for her with shaking hands.
When he picks her up he lets out a gasp of relief – or terror – it’s hard to say which. She doesn’t respond to his touch. She lies limp in his hands.
Jaskier looks up at him, and voice unsteady he says, “she’s cold.”
*
He sets the barn alight. By the time he’s done it’s growing dark, and the wind has died away. He leaves it to burn on its hilltop, to be sure the creature is dead. He’ll tell the villagers to come back when it’s burned to the ground, to take the bones of their dead and bury them properly. They’ll do it, if not for the right reasons.
The barn is a red-orange blaze in the distance. Down in the valley there’s a chill in the air. He can see Jaskier’s breath, though it’s not cold enough for that. He hasn’t stopped shaking. Geralt builds a fire, so he can warm himself, and sets about fastening the dæmophage’s head to Roach’s saddle.
“Geralt, she’s still cold,” says Jaskier. He’s kneeling too close to the fire, Tansy clutched to his chest, hidden in his cupped hands. He’s stripped off his filthy doublet, dark with the creature’s blood. “Geralt. Geralt. She won’t wake up.”
i don’t know if it actually makes sense for jaskier to have got blood on him but listen i will take any excuse to have him take his doublet off bcos i’m just into it.
“She’ll wake up,” says Geralt.
“Are you sure?” says Jaskier.
“Hm,” says Geralt. He isn’t sure. You can never be sure. But if it had drained enough of the life from her that she was beyond waking, Jaskier’s mind would have broken. She’d be fading away. She was in shock. That was all. She’d wake.
If he’d been fast enough to kill it, but not fast enough to save her – he’d seen it before. He’d seen men and women, their minds broken into icy fragments, spending their last days terrified, in pain, alone. Unable to understand what had happened to them. Sometimes it was more merciful to let the dæmophage finish its meal, and kill them outright.
Not this time. He’d been fast enough.
“She – she won’t wake up, Geralt, she –” Jaskier breaks off in a ragged gasp. “I don’t know what to do.”
“Give her some time,” says Geralt. He fetches a blanket, and tosses it to Jaskier.
Jaskier doesn’t take it. “I can’t wake her up,” he says. “Geralt, what do I do?”
“Stop panicking,” says Geralt.
It’s no good. Jaskier understands what he’s saying, but he can’t keep his thoughts straight long enough to act on it. His mind is clouded. Where his connection to Tansy should be there’s nothing but confusion.
this was a fun opportunity to get a little bit into how the connection between a person and their daemon works :3
“I don’t know what to do,” he says. “I can’t think – Geralt, I can’t –”
His name falls again and again from Jaskier’s lips and it carries a silent plea. Help me. Do something.
He doesn’t know what to do. Or rather he knows what he ought to do, to offer comfort and warmth until this passes, but he doesn’t know how.
If he had seen it sooner. If he hadn’t let Jaskier talk him into taking him into danger. If he’d been quicker, smarter, harsher.
Tansy will get better. Jaskier will walk away from this.
double meaning in ‘walk away from this’ as in ‘survive this’ but also ‘will walk away FROM GERALT because of this’
Tension, behind him. He feels her long before he sees her, long before she ghosts into the firelight on owl-wings. She lands and with a soft rushing of air she’s herself again. Jaskier falls silent, startled at seeing her change, though he knew she cold.
“Jaskier,” she says. “Do you trust me?”
Half-watching, Geralt sees him nod.
“Put her down,” she says.
Jaskier hesitates. “But –”
“I know what I’m doing,” says Dag. “Put her down. Let me see.” Again he refuses, a wordless stammer of protest. “Jaskier. You’re panicking. Breathe deep. Put her down.”
Jaskier lays Tansy down. His hands are still shaking, but his breathing has slowed. That’s something. “What’s happening to her?” he says. “It hurts –”
He’d known it must. But Jaskier hadn’t said so, to him.
Dag noses at Tansy’s tiny, limp body. She licks her, once. “She’s just cold,” she says. “She’s just fainted. She’ll be fine.”
The back of one hand pressed to his mouth, Jaskier sobs.
“Shh,” says Dag. “Jaskier. Be calm.” Then she ducks her head forward, and touches him.
She touches her head to his face, nuzzling him, and at that contact a tremor goes through Geralt like a static shock. It’s only for a moment. Jaskier jerks away from her, as one would if a dæmon came too close by mistake.
this scene was inspired a bit by the part in The Subtle Knife where Pantalaimon physically comforts Will bcos he doesn’t have a daemon to comfort him. Obviously Jaskier does have a daemon, but he’s experiencing her being unconscious while he’s awake for the first time, making him essentially bereft of her.
He turns to look at Geralt, standing by Roach, no longer pretending he isn’t watching this. Their eyes meet. Geralt says nothing. Does nothing.
Jaskier turns back to Dag. Her eyes are lidded. Gingerly, Jaskier raises a hand to touch her. Geralt should cry out stop. He should go over there and drag them apart. He doesn’t.
Jaskier runs his hand over her head, the touch barely-there, just enough pressure to be felt through her fur. Geralt feels that touch like a gentle nudge somewhere within his ribs. It doesn’t feel bad.
He can feel, somehow feel birdsong in that touch. He can feel silk, and music, and laughter. It feels like the smell of perfume and candle smoke. Polished wood beneath his fingers. He’d had another’s hand on Dag before. It did not feel like this.
and THIS description of what touching (or being touched by) a person’s daemon would be like was inspired by how it’s depicted in Disciples of Apollo which is an a+++ daemon AU you should read if you like daemon stuff regardless of whether you’re a fan of M*A*S*H or not... please read it it’s so good.
He wonders what Jaskier feels, touching her.
i do intend to cover this. eventually. if i ever get around to writing more of this series.
Jaskier runs his hand over Dag’s head a second time. She purrs, low and deep in her chest. On the ground, Tansy gasps for breath.
my intention here is that Jaskier’s distress is part of what’s keeping Tansy from waking up, but then as long as she’s unconscious he can’t calm down, so by acting as a kind of stand-in daemon for him Dag is helping him Chill The Fuck Out sufficiently for Tansy to pull herself together.
“Tansy.” Jaskier’s hand falls from Dag’s head, and he reaches for her. “Oh gods, Tansy –” He cradles her in his hands. Her whole body is trembling.
“Jaskier,” she says, and at the sound of her voice all of his breath leaves him, his shoulders shaking, limp, weak with relief. He kisses her, holds her close by his face. Neither of them speak.
Geralt looks away. He meets Dag’s eyes, and she holds his gaze. He understands why she did it. He wouldn’t take it back. He’d do it again, and again. He still doesn’t like it. Dag turns away from him. She lies down beside the fire.
He tucks the blanket around Jaskier’s shoulders, and Jaskier murmurs thanks. He sits. He cleans his sword. The air smells like smoke. They shouldn’t linger here, in the dark. Jaskier’s breath is still fogging the air.
“We should go back to the village,” he says.
“Okay,” says Jaskier. Unsteady on his feet, he levers himself upright with one hand, the other cradling Tansy to his chest. “Okay.”
In the village lights are still burning in the windows. Geralt unties the dæmophage’s mouthless head.
“Should we,” says Jaskier, “talk about this?”
“Hm?” says Geralt.
“You know what I mean,” says Jaskier. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,” says Geralt, and taking the creature’s head he marches away.
“I’ve heard of mixed signals,” calls Jaskier in his wake. “But this is ridiculous!”
am not actually 100% happy with this part, i wanted to get this line in but i couldn’t get it to mesh w the tone of the scene
*
The village is too small for an inn, but as well as coin the monster’s head earns them a bed for the night in the alderman’s house, and an invitation to dinner.
The monster’s head, and perhaps Jaskier; Jaskier, whose boyish smile and pretty dæmon had charmed the alderman and his wife at once, Jaskier, who had come back from the hunt pale, and shivering in a way they must recognise.
geralt thinks Tansy is very pretty. that’s just how his tastes run and he genuinely has no idea that most people don’t think nightingales are like, notably pretty.
There’s only one bed in the room they’re given but the alderman’s daughter makes up a cot. He tells Jaskier to take the bed. Jaskier doesn’t argue. Jaskier says nothing at all.
Since his outburst when they reached the village he’s spoken only to say yes and please and thank you. He lies upon the bed, staring at the ceiling, one hand stroking a slow, contemplative circle on his own stomach. Tansy sits on the pillow beside his head, plucking at his hair, grooming at him like a mother cat with a kitten.
Geralt washes the dæmophage’s blood from his hands. It has dried into the creases in his palms, under his fingernails.
“Will you come to dinner?” he says.
“Not very hungry,” says Jaskier.
Stretched out upon the cot, Dag raises her head. “You should eat,” she says.
Geralt sees her indoors so rarely. It takes him off-guard, sometimes, how large she is compared to human things. The alderman and his family must have been startled, to see him go on a hunt without a dæmon and return with one, but they had said nothing about it.
i did not mention that dag is in this scene before she speaks to emphasise that her presence indoors is unusual and unexpected. i am very smart.
She lies alert, tail flicking, watching over Jaskier.
His hands don’t feel clean. He washes them again. “You’re quiet,” he says.
“Hmm?” says Jaskier.
“Are you alright?” says Geralt.
“Since when do you care?” says Jaskier. “I thought you wanted me to shut up.”
“What will it take for you to give me some peace?” he had said, more than once.
“Hell or high water, probably,” Jaskier had answered, sunnily smiling.
If he hadn’t been fast enough. If the creature had taken something that could not be brought back – the light in his eyes. Warmth. A smile he’d never see again. Not like this. He didn’t want it like this.
once again double meaning re geralt thinking that jaskier is going to leave him because of this
He leans heavily upon the washstand. He breathes out. He’d been fast enough. Jaskier was shaken. That was all. He’d be fine.
“I’m just,” says Jaskier. “Thinking.”
“What are you thinking about?” says Geralt.
“What’s it to you?” says Jaskier. A moment’s quiet, and he says, “why don’t elves have dæmons?”
this is my no 1 issue w this fic (which i am otherwise happy with), I really wanted to get this conversation in but wasn’t quite sure where to put it. originally i was going to include it much earlier, and have it be in response to meeting the elves, but i couldn’t get it to work with the pacing and i needed something for them to discuss here so. here it is. i’m not 100% sure it works. i think i understand why jaskier is bringing this up now but i’m not sure how to describe it properly.
The question jars him. It’s like something a child would ask. Why it’s on Jaskier’s mind now, of all times, he can’t imagine. “You know why.”
“I want to hear what you have to say about it,” says Jaskier.
“It’s the way the world is,” says Geralt. “Humans have dæmons. Elves don’t. Others don’t.”
“You’re not human and you have a dæmon,” says Jaskier.
“You know why,” says Geralt again. He can feel Dag’s stare on him, accusing, but he can’t help his frustration. He has the sense that Jaskier is goading him – or trying to catch him out in a lie. He doesn’t know what Jaskier wants from him.
“Do you think it’s lonely?” says Jaskier.
“Being an elf?” says Geralt.
“Mm,” Jaskier agrees.
tbqh it’s just occurred to me now as im re-reading it that part of this is jaskier obliquely asking geralt about his own feelings about having a daemon.
Geralt begins to dry his hands. “You can’t miss what you never had.”
“I don’t know,” says Jaskier. “I miss all sorts of things I’ve never had.”
Geralt waits for him to expand on that thought. But he’s lapsed back into silence. “Elves find dæmons distasteful,” he says. “It bothers them. Like seeing someone with their insides spilling out. They think half-elves born without dæmons are stronger for it.”
At that, mystifyingly, Jaskier laughs a little. “Hear that, Tansy?” he says. “Maybe I would have been stronger if I didn’t have you, like a half-elf. What do you think?”
gjlkghjklghdfj i had so much trouble w this line bcos my beta fully believed that this was jaskier professing that he was half elf so i had to re-write it and somehow at least one reviewer has still thought that was the implication... he’s 100% not half elf in this AU sorry. if i ever get around to writing the sequel it will be evident that he’s not half elf (or like if he is he has no idea)
Tansy clicks her beak. “I think you’d miss me terribly,” she says. “Even if you’d never had me.”
His hands are dry. He stops running the cloth over them, and sets it aside. “Dag’s right,” he says. “You should eat.”
“If you insist,” says Jaskier. “Where are we going next?”
Geralt turns to look at him. He’s gazing up at Tansy, running a finger over her neck. “After dinner?” he says.
“Tomorrow,” says Jaskier. Geralt says nothing, but his silence must speak for itself, for Jaskier looks at him and says, “don’t think you’re getting rid of me that easily.”
“Why?” says Geralt.
“I’m a glutton for punishment, I suppose,” Jaskier says. “Anyway. I’m working on a song and it isn’t finished.”
“Hm?” says Geralt.
Jaskier’s gaze drifts back to Tansy. “Still needs an ending,” he says.
i wasn’t sure how to end this story and this last line is very cheeky eheheh. i can do what i want.
thank you again for requesting!! i hope u enjoy this commentary. it has been a fun diversion. i’m very pleased w this fic and i love talking about daemon AUs. <3
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