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fandom-junk-drawer · 4 months

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The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 12

Jaskier puased, swallowed, then darted across the door way. He yelped and gibbered as Nerf darts started flying.

Geralt laughed as Jaskier danced around in the door way briefly, trying to dodge the barrage of Nerf darts he was shooting at him. The bard yapped as a few of the darts found their mark.

The guns were custom made. Geralt had f***ed with the mechanisms and now getting shot with one would definitely leave a bruise. And it didn't help that they were both bucka** naked.

They were playing Naked Nerf Gun War because Regular Nerf Gun War was boring, and Yennefer was out with the girls, so why not have a little Swinging D*ck Time ?

Jaskier retaliated. He stuck the Nerf gun out the doorway and blindly fired.

Geralt groaned loudly as one of Jaskier's haphazard shots nailed him in the ribs, adding another bruise to his collection. He ducked down behind the safety of the recliner and heard Jaskier bolt for the stairs. Geralt rolled out from behind his hiding spot...

Jaskier reached the stairs and laid down some last minute cover fire. One of his darts hit Geralt right in the dangly bits. Jaskier froze at the top of the stairs when he heard the strangled noise Geralt made.

"Geralt?" He saw him hunched over, holding his groin. Ooooh...f**k!

"Er, Geralt, are you, uh, alright?" Geralt straightened up, and Jaskier caught a glimpse of the murderous look in his eyes.

Jaskier ran for his life.

"I said no d*ck shots!" Geralt snarled, starting after him.

"I didn't aim for it, I swear-!" Jaskier screamed as Geralt didn't even bother to use the stairs. The Witcher just leaped and hauled himself over the railing.

Jaskier turned and sprayed more cover fire, hoping to slow Geralt down. He heard him grunt as some of the darts hit.

Geralt chased him down the hallway, getting him in the back twice, and almost turned an ankle as Jaskier suddenly changed direction and darted around him.

A Nerf dart hit him in the nads.

Everything stopped. Jaskier and Geralt stared at each other in mute disbelief.

"You little f**ker!"

"I DiDn'T mEAn tOo!" Jaskier screamed as he made a run for it while Geralt was still doubled over. He ran, blindly firing behind himself. There was another pained growl in a very familiar octave.

"Godsd*mmit!"

"Am sOrRy!"

"You're doing it on purpose!"

"AM nOt, I sWeAr!"

Jaskier whipped around the corner and slipped on a t-shirt on the floor. He went down with a surprised shout, landing with a series of thumps.

Geralt came skidding around the corner seconds later and saw Jaskier getting to his hands and knees. He was literally a** up, and Gerlat could not stop himself. He raised his Nerf gun and, with a maniacal crow of triumph, fired.

He got Jaskier right in his a**.

Jaskier was just getting up, knowing Geralt was only seconds behind him, when he heard the pop of the Nerf gun, and felt a very uncomfortable, very abrupt sensation in his nether region.

He's going from horizontal to vertical in a split second, screaming in shock and gripping his a** with both hands.

Geralt is just about laughing himself sick at the way Jaskier has snapped bolt upright to his knees, while holding his backside. But then he sees the look on Jaskier's face. It 's a mix of pain and shock, with a dash of slowly increasing fear.

Geralt *confused*: What?

Jaskier *eyes huge*: My a**...

Geralt: Yeah, I shot you in the a** because you shot me in the d*ck twice, and once in the balls. What about it?"

Jaskier *anxious pained whisper*: The Nerf dart...i-it's in my a**!"

Geralt: F**k...

Yennefer was having coffee with Madeleine and Vespula, enjoying a No Boys Allowed Day, when her phone rang. She heaved an irritated sigh when she saw Jaskier's Caller ID image.

She said a brief prayer to any god that was listening and feeling inclined to be merciful to her today, then answered the phone.

"Y-yEn..?"

A Voice Crack. F**k

"What is it?" Yennefer asked, cautiously. Jaskier's voice sounded very small and anxious. And there was a hint of pain.

"Yen, I...can you -- I know you're out with the girls-- but...can you...cOmE HoMe?"

"What happened, love? Are you alright? Where's Geralt?" Yennefer exchanged worried glances with Madeleine and Vespula. Something was wrong.

Madeleine and Vespula could hear Jaskier hesitantly begin to explain over the phone. They saw Yennefer's expressions go through several emotions. Worry gave way to annoyance, then disbelief, then came mild disgust, which finally turned to amusement.

Yennefer's mouth twisted with the effort of trying not to smile as she asked in disbelief, "You had a what?"

Madeleine and Vespula crowded around Yennefer to better hear the drama.

Yennefer gasped, then slapped a hand over her mouth to cut off the begining of a cackle that was trying to slip out. Her voice shook with the effort of holding in the cackle as she asked, "It wEnT WhErE?!"

A brief pause while Jaskier repeated what he'd said.

Yennefer was fighting for her life when she responded. Jaskier could hear her trying not to burst into outright laughter.

"I'm sorry, my love, but you're on your own for this one."

"But can't you just come and, and...magic it out?"

"I'm going to have to pass..."

"Yennefer, please?"

"Sorry, Jaskier-!"

"But...it's...it's uncomfortable. No-! I know I told you all those stories and about that one time! That was different! How?! What do you mean 'how'? Well for one, it wasn't violently and suddenly shot up my a**!"

"That's what you get for playing with toys that don't have a flared base, Jask!" Vespula interjected.

"Ves!"

"I'm sure it's not the weirdest thing you've put up there," Madeleine added.

Jaskier: *offended bard noises*

"You'll be fine, Starling, " Yennefer assured him, "It's just a foam dart. From a toy gun. Just give it a yank and it'll come right out--!"

"I, um, can't get it..."

"Why not?"

"Geralt, er, Geralt modified the Nerf guns. They shoot really hard now, and it's uh, way up there... and it uh, kind of...hurts..."

Jaskier heard Yennefer gasp.

"Are you f***ing serious, Geralt?! For f**k's sake--! Since you put it up there, you're going to f***ing get it out! Do you hear me?"

"Hmmmmm."

"Don't argue with me! Three times? Well that's what you get for playing games naked! Don't you blame him! You're the one who shot a f****ing Nerf dart up HIS a**!"

"Hm..."

"Don't roll your eyes at me either--! Yes you did, I could HEAR you! You better fix my bard before I get home or you're going to find some of your horse figurines mysteriously gone!"

"Hm!"

Jaskier sighed as Yennefer ended the call. So much for doing things the easy way. He turned to Geralt, a resigned look on his face.

Geralt sighed. "I'll go get a glove."

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rolloollor · 5 months

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Deleted Scene from Dark Fire (Smoldering Desire) Where MalleRollo Storm Idia's Room

I wanted this to work and tried it a few ways, but it always felt like filler to me. Anyway, here's one version of it. It's not super polished or anything.

Note that this has an abrupt end since it's where I went "No, this isn't working." I'm the kind of writer that has to write out the majority of a scene before I realize it isn't working...

This scene takes place soon after the birthday. I replaced it with Ortho dropping in to check up on Rollo.

As they walked to their final class, Flamme turned to Malleus. “Do you think we could find Ortho after school? I should apologize for… the confusion.”

With no club activities, they had some free time between their last period and dinner. They had vanished on the younger Shroud without explaining why, which would have startled anyone. Lilia had handled it. But he doubted that was good enough for Flamme.

“We could try, but I don’t know where he spends his time. The older Shroud would. We could visit him.”

“In his room, I suppose. We can go there?”

“I’m certain we can find it.”

And so, once freed from scholarly restraints, he brought Flamme to the dorm entrances. One thing Malleus had noticed in his time at Night Raven College was that the Ignihyde mirror had the least amount of traffic. It also had one of the more geometric designs, along with a Cerberus’ three heads glowering at anyone who dared approach. Quaint.

They passed through.

A staircase hewn from rock stretched in front of them, climbing around a natural stone pillar. Behind them, scores of boney fingers reached through blue mist. Skeletal figures with glowing ultramarine eyes rose from the depths to support an ancient building—likely the dorm itself. Nothing but the sound of languidly flowing water and the distant whirr of electronics reached them. Desolate. Ominous. It was no Diasomnia, but the aesthetic had promise.

Flamme started up the steps, every footfall echoing out into the ether. "This completely unsuitable for a child," he mumbled.

“He can fly, so the lack of any railing poses no threat.” Malleus caught up to Flamme. He ensured that he stood between Flamme and the edge of the stairs because he might rather take a fall than use magic to catch himself if he slipped. Not that Malleus couldn’t pluck Flamme out of the air, if need be.

“I mean the décor.” Flamme gestured toward one of the skeletons, its skull pointed toward the path, as though it could observe them. “But it is dangerous, as well.”

As they entered the dorm building, they found the common area. The vast room had pairs of couches sprinkled about, each with a gap between them. A massive object made up of black, inorganic roots stretched from the floor to the ceiling. Charts and symbols made of light flickered in the air.

A grand total of two students, aside from himself and Flamme, made use of the place. They sat across from each other, each engrossed in their own square of flashing colors.

Flamme marched over and stood beside the table between them. “Excuse me.”

One jolted and jerked his head toward Flamme. The other, wearing black earmuffs, had not noticed anything amiss.

The Ignihyde student looked Flamme up and down. “You’re… in the wrong dorm.”

“I wish to speak to Shroud. Where is his room?”

“Ah. Yeah, good, bother him instead of me. Go out through there,” he paused, pointing to a pair of metal sheets without doorknobs. “And down the hall. His room is the last one on the left.”

Without bothering with thanks, Flamme returned to Malleus’ side. They left the pair of students to their squares.

Were most Ignihyde students like Shroud?

The two doors glided apart to allow them through once they approached. On the other side, archaic pillars lined a hall with walls, floor, and ceiling covered in triangle designs. Between certain columns, graphs made of light displaying something or other hovered. Not a speck of dust remained on any surface.

A silver disc rolled horizontally across the ground, making a whooshing sound as it came around a corner. It had no eyes. How did it know where to go? Malleus couldn’t tear his gaze away from it, even as they passed the thing on their way to the leftmost part of the corridor.

"What do you imagine that round creature is doing?" Malleus asked Flamme, nodding toward the disc.

Flamme's eyebrows furrowed as he gave Malleus a long look. "I believe that is a vacuum."

An absence of matter? No, that wasn't right. Whatever it was, Flamme’s tone didn’t sound promising.

"It’s cleaning,” Flamme said.

All by itself. It had quite a bit of ground to cover, so it must have been dedicated. “How admirable. But it can’t handle a gargoyle. Correct?”

“No.” Flamme’s pace slowed. He glanced at Malleus from the corner of his eye. “Would you rather have a machine assist you?”

What a ridiculous question. “There is no one I would trust more to work with gargoyles than you.”

Finally, the end of the hall came to meet them. Instead of a window, opaque black glass, framed in yet another triangle, hung on the wall. On their right was another passageway with sliding doors and no way to open them. They refused to part at their advance.

“Should we knock?” Flamme asked, glaring at his reflection in the metal.

“No need.” He channeled magic, wrapping it around both components of the door.

Flamme clicked his tongue. “This is a waste.”

“It won’t require much.”

The sliding doors juddered and wobbled as the material whined, but they stood no chance. A screech sounded from inside the room—Shroud, no doubt. Finally, the two metal sheets thrust apart, slamming into their hidden compartments. The way was now clear.

A pajama-clad Shroud whirled around in his swivel chair, knocking an open instant noodle cup onto the ground. Brown liquid oozed onto his rug. But the area around the chair, which should have been blue like the rest of the fabric, was already darkened by previous stains.

“Augh, dark spirit has invaded! I’m not ready for PVP!” Shroud cried.

Sometimes he seemed to speak a different language. “What is Pee Vee Pee?” Malleus asked.

Shroud pointed at Flamme. “What’s he doing here? You led him to me! Did he hit you with a status effect?! Confusion? Anything but charm!”

Flamme surveyed the room, but the younger Shroud was not there. Only then did he turn to face Shroud, who blanched and covered his face. One of his fluffy trouser legs (covered in pink and green creatures of some sort) had landed right in the overturned cup noodle mess.

“Cease your rambling, Shroud,” Flamme said. “I had hoped to speak to Ortho. Do you know where he is?”

Shroud steeled himself for something, perhaps expecting a blow. When Flamme brought his handkerchief to his nose, but did nothing else, Shroud eased his arms down.

“Oh. Yeah… he said something about…” His voice became too quiet to hear.

“Speak up, Shroud,” Malleus said.

Another flinch. He snatched a blue rectangle off his desk and held it up to his face.

Odd… but Flamme did something similar, did he not? Though he could at least maintain eye contact with his handkerchief.

“He mentioned your, uh, talk. He was worried about your doki doki panic more than anything, but don’t you think it’s kinda weird to spring that stuff on him? You’ve barely had a conversation. How did you even get those dialogue options? Normies, I swear…”

Either Flamme had understood what a dough key was or he had refused to even entertain the word because he sneered at Shroud. “Oh, you think have a leg to stand on when it comes to questionable decisions. The impudence of criticizing me when you—”

“Flamme.” Malleus put a hand on Flamme’s arm which, thankfully, captured his attention. “We came here to look for the small Shroud. He is elsewhere. Don’t fight with the larger Shroud.”

Frowning, Flamme sniffed. “At least keep your room clean to set a good example.”

“Hah!” Shroud peered from over the top of his rectangle. “He’s not some monkey see monkey do kid—he’s good on his own!”

“Ah, it all makes sense now.” Flamme tilted his head up and looked down his handkerchief-covered nose at Shroud. “I couldn’t understand how such a well-behaved child could develop from your tutelage, but I suppose we should be glad he knows a poor role model when he sees one.”

“Flamme.”

Again, he stopped, but he threw Malleus a glare. Worse, Shroud chose this time to let out his strange laugh.

“Shroud, you are not helping.”

Perhaps he should have known better than to bring them together. The younger Shroud was friendly, but the older one was anything but.

“He has a lot of dialogue for a boss we defeated already.” Shroud sighed, shaking his head. “Ortho’s with his club right know. The Film Appreciation one. They spawn all over the school, so who knows where they are today.”

Flamme flattened his lips into a thin line. Indeed, this news complicated things.

“Then will you pass on a message for me?” he asked, the words small, hesitant. “I want to apologize for disappearing without warning. And… I want to thank him. He was very helpful.”

This was the perfect opportunity for Shroud to petulantly tell him no and spew some more words no one else understood. But Shroud said nothing for a moment, his gaze on the floor. The spilled cup noodle had, no doubt, gone cold by now.

“Fine. Quest accepted. Just don’t barge into my room again.”

Flamme huffed. “Rest assured, I have no intention of returning. Let’s go, Malleus.”

If Flamme was satisfied, then that was enough for him. They departed. Flamme hurried down the hall, his arms straight at his sides—he must have wanted to leave as soon as possible.

“Wait! Aren’t you going to fix my door?!” Shroud called after them.

He had ruined it—etiquette dictated that he should go back and fix it. But Flamme didn’t acknowledge Shroud’s comment and, if anything, increased his pace. Malleus matched him. Shroud could repair his own machinery.

They rushed their way through the cavernous common room and out to the staircase that led back to the mirror. Flamme finally slowed. He treated the steps with the respect they deserved, no doubt thanks to his responsibilities in the bell tower.

#twisted wonderland #mallerollo #malleus draconia #rollo flamme #idia shroud #drafts

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