#(it's also giving me feels from my own au that geralt wanted to be a knight and met someone who needs him to be)

[freetheworms]

okay so i’ve had this weird Geraskier trucker AU stuck in my head for a while and i just don’t know if i’ll ever get around to writing it properly, so instead i have compiled my headcanons!

(this got super fucking long somehow, so most of it is under the cut)

so Geralt is a long-haul trucker for a small, family owned company called Witchers Express Transportation (WET for short. haha)

of course it’s his family that owns it. Vesemir started it years ago back in their small town of Kaer Moren as something he could pass onto his boys, and to be honest, they all kind of enjoy the travel and a little solitude, although none as much as Geralt

Geralt truck is black with a wolf emblem on the side, because of course it is. Lambert’s is red with flames on it because he loves to fuck around and also i make the rules. Eskel’s truck is forest green because i just think that’s nice. Coën’s is grey (with flames because Lambert insisted he needed to “spice it up.”) Vesemir mostly stays at HQ and handles orders now, but his old truck was also black. none of that matters but it’s important to me that you know this

Geralt also has a black cat that travels with him in the cab of his truck like those adorable dudes on tiktok. i’ll give you one guess at her name ((it’s Roach. duh))

anyway. Geralt is out on some cross-continent haul, and pulls into a truck stop in Posada one evening, cause y’know. a man’s gotta eat. and drink. and sleep (if he’s lucky)

insert bard. i imagine their first meeting is essentially the same as it is in the show, except Jaskier is playing the ukulele instead of the lute because it’s modern times, and a guitar wouldn’t be playable in the truck. i am big brained

eventually Geralt goes to head back on the road once he and Roach are fed and rested, and finds he has a loud, obnoxiously-dressed shadow following him through the parking lot

“hey, so wait. okay wait. what if i, uh, y’know, came with you? like, in your truck?” Jaskier is running away from his stuffy pompous home life, and this big sexy trucker looks like his very climbable ticket

“you don’t even know where i’m going” Geralt is so not having it.

“well, no. i mean. you could tell me? but i don’t really care, as long as it’s not here!”

“i could kill you” Geralt is putting on his scariest face. it is decidedly not working

“nah, don’t buy it. i feel like murderous truckers don’t have kitten companions,” the idiot kid actually winks at him. “so, where are we going?” Jaskier is already climbing into the truck and Geralt, sweet, awkward Geralt, doesn’t want to have to rip him out of it so he just kind of. goes with it, begrudgingly. the kid probably won’t last long cooped up in the tiny cab, anyway

Geralt is very, very wrong.

Jaskier is happy to sit in the truck and look out the windows, commenting on every weird or mildly interesting thing they drive by. he’s also maybe a little too happy to flirt with Geralt at every given opportunity. Geralt definitely, totally, feels no ways about this, why would you even ask that?

Geralt keeps waiting for him to fuck off at one of the truck stops they pull into, but the kid just keeps coming back

if Geralt waits for the bard to finish his set, or his conquests before he drives off, that is definitely not because he likes the company. nope. he just feels bad for the kid, okay? it’s dangerous for a naive little fancy lad out here

oh, also. Geralt’s radio doesn’t work and Jask thinks that’s the most insane thing about this guy. i mean, travelling for weeks on end with nothing but silence and the occasional meow to listen to? absolutely psychopath behaviour. can’t have that.

so Jaskier spends a lot of his time in the passenger seat, composing songs about the various people he’s met on their travels, or about Geralt, and even once about Roach. Geralt pretends to be annoyed when Jaskier plays them in the cab, but secretly he’s realizing maybe he doesn’t miss the silence as much as he thought

Jaskier still gets himself in trouble sleeping with the wrong people at the inns they frequent, and Geralt of course has to be his Big Beefy Backup™️ when the occasional angry husband or wife tries to skin him in the middle of the motel lobby

Geralt is absolutely not jealous of the people Jask sleeps with. he’s not. nope. no, sir. he’s just annoyed at having to rescue him, is all

and if they share a bed half the time, it’s only because motels are expensive and getting two rooms seems like a waste of money. they’re just being smart!

so, they travel together like this for a couple of years; Geralt making deliveries (and excuses for the weird, overly friendly man constantly in his passenger seat) and Jaskier using all this experience to further his meager singer-songwriter career

they do part ways sometimes so Geralt can go back to Kaer Moren, or so Jaskier can try and record one of his now numerous ballads, but they’ve exchanged phone numbers (for safety!) and they somehow always end up coming back together

Jaskier absolutely did not turn on Geralt’s location sharing so he could “happen to turn up” at the same truck stop as his favourite trucker

so, yeah. they do this little dance around each other for almost 10 years before Geralt’s guilt finally gets the better of him on a bad day. he’s kept Jaskier cooped up in his tiny truck for far too long. it’s selfish. Jask deserves to see the world, and not from behind a windshield. he says as much, one day when they’re stopped in some shitty diner parking lot

Jaskier suggests they take some time off the road then, maybe see the coast together? 

Geralt insists he can’t just leave his job, and that Jaskier should go on to live his actual life without an old grumpy man weighing him down

Jaskier does not take that well. “i’m the one that asked you if i could travel with you, you big brute! you don’t get to be all self-sacrificing about this!”

Geralt does not take Jaskier not taking it well very well. cue yelling. cue Geralt saying things he doesn’t mean about Jaskier holding up his deliveries with his dilly-dallying at stops. about Jaskier never shutting up and being annoying. about how he wishes he’d never met that stupid kid at the truck stop in Posada. 

big “go on! just get outta here you stupid dumb animal!” vibes

cue Mountain Breakup moment. they banter, sure, but Geralt has never actually yelled at him like this. Jask gets out of the truck with a dejected “see you around, Geralt.”

they travel separately for a good few months, almost a year before Geralt starts to think he might go insane in the silence. he even considers fixing his radio, but something about that feels wrong. also he’s a little scared he’ll hear one of Jaskier’s songs play and lose his shit entirely

so eventually Geralt is home at Kaer Moren, moping more than usual, when Eskel somehow notices that Geralt and Jaskier are still sharing locations. Geralt didn’t even know that was a thing you could do??? How long has that been on????

Eskel just gives him this Look and Geralt realizes what he has to do

he sets out to find Jaskier, pinging his phone at some bar just outside Posada

well, thank god he did because he find a tipsy and very scared Jaskier in the back alley, about to get his shit rocked by a group of angry locals whose spouses he probably fucked

Mr. Big Beefy Backup™️ scares the 3 or 4 people off easy enough, but then comes the hard part. time to apologize for being a supreme dickhead, Geralt. go on.

Jaskier is still just standing there in shock because what??? just happened??? why is Geralt here? how is Geralt here? he knows for a fact Geralt would never figure out Jaskier’s location sharing trick on his own; this man can barely figure out how to answer a text. 

he’s about to ask when Geralt finally starts speaking

and it’s an apology? from his Geralt?? okay, maybe he’s drunker than he thought

but no, Geralt really is apologizing, and he looks sincere. in fact, he looks downright miserable as he tells Jaskier he never meant any of it, and he’s so sorry he let his guilt get the better of him. says Jaskier didn’t deserve that hurt, and Geralt would never do it again. he’s really trying to be better. he will be better, just please. he just needs his bard back, if he’ll have him

the silence is deafening as Jaskier just stands there, gaping like a fish

he was going to shut Geralt down, at least for a minute. he was. he’s thought about this moment a zillion times, and he really was going to tell Geralt it wasn’t enough, that he’s worth more than that

but Geralt looks genuinely heartbroken and vulnerable in a way Jaskier’s never seen, and he can’t do it. he doesn’t want to.

so Jaskier steels himself and kisses him instead, because for once, he’s at a loss for words. because he’s a little drunk and he’s wanted this for the better part of a decade. because he’s afraid this is the only chance he’ll get

and when Geralt feverishly returns the kiss, Jaskier knows he’ll happily climb right back into that cramped old truck with him. knows there’s nowhere else he’d rather be than with this big, stupid man that he loves. he says as much

and Geralt smiles, actually grins as he says “i love you too, Jaskier”

Jaskier does set some new boundaries and ground rules between them though, because we stan Growth and Knowing Your Worth. luckily, Geralt is more than happy to oblige

and then they drive off into the sunset together to see the coast :)

also, Jaskier has never been more grateful for Geralt’s broken radio. there’s, uhh, no need for Geralt to hear his latest single, Burn Trucker Burn

wow. okay, well at this point i may as well have written the actual fic but Y’KNOW. maybe i will some day. who knows. let me know if uhhh if anyone would want to read it?? validation is my lifeblood and i’m real nervous about posting this for no reason

also, if anyone else for some reason wants to give this stupid AU a go, please for the love of god, tag me! i’d love to read what you come up with :)

[yenn-reads]

A new month, new favorite series. And this month it’s going to be spooky.

Where are all my monster fuckers?

I have some treats for you. I have to admit it was hard this time to decide on three stories and maybe some of you are a little disappointed not to see their favorite monsters. I'm 100% a vampire fucker. I always was and always will be. So there's a lot of them in here today.

But like always, if you have your own favorite, tell me in your reblog. Share all the vampires, werewolves, ghosts or whatever monster series you love!

These are mine:

The Pull

Vampire!Henry Cavill x OFC Rowena (💕🔥🌩, status: completed)

@sillyrabbit81 is one of my favorites. I don't think anything I've read by her has ever disappointed. But this one really needs more praise. The story of the Crown Prince of Vampires Henry and his mate Rowena is breathtaking. It is full of emotions and the plot will keep you hooked until you manage to read all 25 parts. And if that's not enough to draw you in, perhaps the cameo appearance of Werewolf! Alexander Skarsgard will make you read it. You definitely should!

Natural

Mikey (+Walter+August+Sherlock) x reader (💕🔥🌩, status: ongoing)

This is my all-time favorite supernatural story, ever! @raccoon-eyed-rebel built a world and a whole lore around this story that is absolutely spectacular. It's fun, it's romantic, it's heart-breaking, it's hot. And because she has the incredible talent to put more than just one Henry-shaped guy into a story and make it work, we get Mike, August, Walter and Sherlock to live with us. All of their characters are built so uniquely, you're going to love them all. So it's a good thing we're in a slowly developing reverse harem.

And because I'm an annoying little fan girl I got some glimpses and spoilers for it and let me tell you, @raccoon-eyed-rebel is going to give us some really good stuff for this one!

Worship

Hades (Geralt/August) x OFC Eliza (💕🔥🌩, status: completed)

Second post, second time I have @daydreaming-in-letters on my list. Though this wasn't intentionally, it's far from a mistake. Because she is a favorite writer of me for a reason. And her Hades-AU is my favorite of her stories. It's absolutely unique. As always @daydreaming-in-letters knows exactly how to build worlds and atmosphere with her words. Let her take you to the underworld. Get to know Hades. In his divine form or his human resemblance. He will take your breath away.

Take a look at those stories, read, reblog, talk about them. Every time I see someone of my mutuals reblog something I recommended, my heart fills with joy. And be sure, the heart of the writer feels the same.

By the way, sorry for shameless self promotion but I couldn't let that opportunity slip, if you still want more vampires, you could also take a look at my own series

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern AU) - Sibling Vibes

Yennefer and Jaskier's early relationship worried Geralt at first. It had caused a certain level of tension that kept Geralt on edge, making him feel like something was coming. Something he would not at all be happy about. He was convinced that Jaskier, at some point, would make a move and try to f**k Yennefer. He had a certain reputation, after all. Geralt was left in a perpetual state of uncertainty.

Geralt knew that Jaskier had considered the idea when he first met her, but at the time he was mildly terrified of her so he elected to behave himself. He was very good at reading people, and it was obvious at the time that Yennefer was not going to put up with his nonsense.

But years later, well after they had figured each other out, he'd never tried to make a move on her. There was nothing but chaste forehead and cheek kisses, hugs, and cuddles, and Jaskier never put his hands on Yennefer in any kind of inappropriate way.

Geralt had been suspicious for a long time, watching Jaskier closely. He was uncomfortable with the way Jaskier seemed so casual about making jokes and calling Yen his 'wife'. He knew Jaskier knew that Yennefer was taken, but that had never stopped Jaskier before. Geralt had heard many of Jaskier's stories about past lovers. Many of them involved individuals in commited relationships.

Geralt wondered how he was still walking this mortal plane.

But Yennefer was different. Jaskier told Geralt one evening, as they sat drinking in Van Roach, that Yennefer was...just special. He loved her in a way that he had never loved a woman before. She made him feel seen, and like he was just an average, irritating brother. She didn't give two sh*ts that he was a Viscount, or a famous bard.

He couldn't really explain the feeling. It was complicated. He knew, without her even telling him, that even though she constantly reminded him of how much she abhorred him and wanted to vomit at the sight of him, that she didn't mean any of it, and that she would go to war for him. She would burn the world to the ground if anyone hurt him. Or if he asked it of her.

"She would b*tch about me the whole time, but she would do it without hesitation, and give no quarter. It's actually mildly unsettling, now that I think about it."

"I know it sounds stupid...but she's...she's the b*tchy, edgy, slightly unhinged-- probably demon possesed -- sister that I didn't know I was missing in my life. The thought of touching her like that... I could never! It feels wrong, and it makes me feel sick to my stomach."

"Geralt, you know how I am. A week or two and I would be chasing someone else's a**. I don't want that for her. I won't do that to her. I won't f**k either of you like that."

"What do you mean how would I-!" *offended gasp* "How dare you! I'm trying to have a heartfelt conversation with you, and you are making jokes!"

Yennefer had summed her thoughts up less poetically, and much more consicely.

"He's a f***ing aggravating, derpy a**, sing-songy manwh*re, who is so f***ing stupid I don't know how he's survived this long. But he's so babygirl I can't help but like him!"

"Oh please! He's not my type."

*eyeroll* "Big, beefy, oblivious, white-haired himbos with better tits than me and dummy thicc a**es."

"You f***ing heard me."

Geralt had been left feeling kind of silly for not trusting his own family. Every day that passed from then on was just more proof that what they had said was true.

Geralt realized that was what was special about Jaskier. Sure, he was a genious when it came to his craft, but he was also gifted at reading people and he naturally interacted with them in the way that balanced them; gave them what their heart needed the most.

Geralt thought about his own interactions with Jaskier. He knew he tended to brood, and be too serious. He kept things to himself and self-isolated. Jaskier balanced him out by bringing the humor, playfulness, and extroversion Geralt needed.

He could see that Jaskier was meeting a need in Yennefer that she probably didn't know she was ignoring. Something her heart needed. He was allowing her to have a little of the life she could have had if she had not been sold to Aretuza. She was experiencing life with a sibling.

There was a certain level of bellicosity to their interactions. It appeared as if they lived for confrontation, craved it, bickering just like siblings would. Neither of them could let an opportunity to make a comment go to waste. Geralt secretly kept a score card on who came up with the best insults. Jaskier was winning so far, but only because he was a bard, and words were his business.

There were pranks, and made up games, and hundreds of little things they did to each other to pester, annoy, and irritate. Most of them, if not all of them, were f***ing childish, which somehow made it even more amusing.

Their pranks on each other were just as childish and sometime impressively creative/sneaky. They were mostly harmless and didn't make too much of a mess, and the way they would scream when they got pranked was somehow satisfying.

Names were often called, but in an affectionate way. It was all in the tone of voice. There was a difference, Yennefer insisted, between "b**tard", and "b**stard" (affectionate), even though it sounded the exact same to Geralt.

And there were the times when they were so soft with each other. Just little quiet moments where they stopped pretending to hate each other and would be disgustingly cute or playful. They really were like a brother and sister.

The only thing that gave Geralt a headache about their relationship was how it could just randomly change. One moment they were close, loving siblings, then they were being brats to each other, taking immense joy in f***ing with each other, then they were threatening to disown each other, then Yennefer was jumping Geralt's a** for something he said to Jaskier, or both of them had ganged up on him and were being petty little a**holes becuase Geralt had p*ssed one of them off.

It was exhausting, and that was why Geralt called them the Chaotic Siblings. It was as if everyday they woke up and chose violence. But Geralt couldn't complaint too much. It was free entertainment after all!

[roughentumble]

a while ago i had the idea for an AU where geralt's mind is sortve sent back in time to right before the dragon fight, and he makes different choices at key junctures as a sort of fix-it fic. i agonized over it for a while, then it lay languishing and forgotten in my notes app, so im deciding to publish it as is, which will either encourage me to finish it, or at least put what exists out in the universe.

also he doesnt really Remember he's time traveled, he just gets Vibes at key points

tagging @fangirleaconmigo because she expressed interest in the idea way back when i first had it!

-------

geralt wakes up in a daze.

there's something on the tip of his tongue-- like when you don't remember a dream, but you remember the shape of it. he fights to recall it, because it seems so big, so important, as the last strands slip through his fingers. his body wills him to stand up, and so he does, as if he could chase the fragments that way, but moving only seems to dislodge them further. he doesnt even recall falling asleep. he sees-- jaskier, a few feet away with his back to him, far enough he'd have to call out to be heard, and everything is hazy as he stumbles over, some sort of need he cant name thrumming under his skin. he could get angry about it, or-- or...

he places a hand on jaskier's shoulder, and jaskier whips around in surprise, blinking owlishly at him. he starts to say something, brow furrowed with concern and sympathy, but geralt cuts him off with a squeeze of his shoulder. "i think you were right. we should go to the coast."

concern gives way to joy, like the sun breaking through the clouds, lighting up his entire face. "you-- really? actually, you'd want that? what caused the change of heart, did you whack your head or something?" he waves his hand in dismissal, keeps speaking before geralt can interject. "doesn't matter, really, what matters is that you did. i'll pack my things right away, and we can load up dear old roach, and i can compose a stunning ballad out of this whole mess because i am a miracle worker, and-- oh you'll just /love/ the coast i'm /certain/ of it! fine wine and pearls and the salty sea stretching out forever over the horizon, and the sunsets, oh! to die for, truly!"

perhaps he did hit his head. there's dirt in his hair, more than usual, and he doesnt think he woke up in a bedroll... but he can't find it in himself to care. it all came out so easy, and something about it had felt right. he reaches out to take jaskier's hand in his own, and jaskier only trips over his words for a moment, glancing down at them in confusion, then smiling even brighter, if that was even possible. that feels right, too. in the same way he cant put his finger on. he'll examine it later, when he's a little more awake. for now he just pulls jaskier gently by the hand towards camp, so he can do that packing he was talking about.

they leave the mountain, and the cursed dragon hunt, behind, without much fanfare or a word to the others.

===========

he doesnt like the coast much, as it turns out. sand isnt great for poor roach's hooves, salt sticks in his long hair making it unmanagable, and the large swath of ocean in front of him makes him edgy in a way he doesnt want to put a name to, because geralt of rivia does not /do/ being afraid. it's all logic, is what it is, giant sea monsters lurk in those depths, and surely no witcher is equipped to deal with their likes. a certain healthy cautiousness makes sense, he reasons.

he likes jaskier at the coast, though.

happy and free, laughing, backlit by the sun, sand on his cheek and pants rolled up to the knee. fancy shoes dangling from his fingers.

/foolish bard/, he thinks, stepping closer, brushing away the sand, /foolish, silly little bard, never brings the proper footwear anywhere we go./ out loud he says "i'm in love with you."

he watches closely the play of emotions across jaskier's face, the joy morphing into shock, disbelief, mouth gawping open like a fish. in the next moment he's dropped those fancy shoes to grab geralt's head, yanking him down into a kiss that's equal parts frenzy and passion and finally coming home. they kiss until the water laps up to their ankles, arms tangled around each other.

the incoming waves claim just one of jaskier's fancy, impractical shoes, and he curses the sea, running into the water as if he could fish the thing out, or else batter the sea into compliance. geralt laughs, and laughs, and pulls jaskier from the salty sea to kiss him again, and again, and again, even as he complains about his lost shoe. "you'll be compensating me for that, witcher." he warns, shaking his finger.

"wouldn't have it any other way," geralt responds, breathless with joy, and jaskier sinks into his grip.

========

"i want you to come with me. to kaer morhen."

jaskier stares at him with open-mouth. it isnt an offer given lightly. even in all their years of on-again off-again, geralt never extended this particular invitation to yennefer. maybe he was too scared of being known, or too scared of being trapped in one place-- if things went sour when they couldnt just leave, would it go away for ever? she's gone away forever anyway, for all his clinging and carefully calculated space. she said no, and he found-- he found--

years he's spent, dragging his feet. years, and with jaskier it's so old and yet so new, and he's decided that he is sick of the waiting, of the right pace. he wants jaskier with him, now and always. "this winter, the two of us. up in the blue mountains."

jaskier is nodding before geralt can finish speaking, tears welling in his eyes. "i want that too, love. gods, you know i'd follow you anywhere." and then he laughs, free and joyful and it's the best sound geralt's ever heard in his life. jaskier reaches out, touches his cheek, like he's confirming this is real, and geralt leans into his space to press their foreheads together. inhales the scent of his tears mingled with pure joy, and it smells like the ocean.

=================

they keep heading south, because it isnt time to head north yet, and because geralt's got a feeling he'd really like to disprove. can't explain where it comes from, exactly, just that he feels a tug, senses a rumbling in the earth, hears whispers on the streets. he climbs the rocky outcropping while jaskier waits by roach, idle and bored. he wants to be wrong. wants it so badly he hasnt even shared his theory with jaskier. he looks out over the path below.

he is not wrong.

a sea of black and gold. cintra is the gateway to the rest of the north, and it's about to fall.

============

he tells jaskier to wait in the marketplace. if this works, geralt will be able to meet him there without injury, or at least be able to send someone to fetch him. if it doesnt, he'll need to resort to drastic measures, which should put him in jaskier's path too. he's grateful for this decision when he ends up surrounded on all sides by calanthe's men-- he has no doubt jaskier would be able to extract himself from the danger as he always does, but he still doesnt like seeing it. he holds a knife to the throat of an old friend, and wonders why it feels familiar. wishes that it didnt.

when they fall through the portal, dodging calanthe's trap, jaskier is far enough away from their stall that he doesn't hear the commotion-- presumably, anyway. geralt wishes he could see him, just to confirm he was safe, confirm he actually made it, but he's too preoccupied to linger on the thought.

[transcribe partial convo]

[bars part w/ eist]

finally jaskier has wandered close enough to notice the commotion, and he calls for geralt

[geralt pleads for jaskier's safety, appeals to eist as a reasonable man, as someone who mightve once been called a friend. says he understands eist's commitment to calanthe, but begs him not to doom jaskier by throwing him in the dungeons when he's harmless. jaskier doesnt much like this, but eventually eist agrees, as a favor to someone he respects and as someone who can see reason. geralt makes jaskier promise to stay in his room no matter what happens, and they clasp hands before jaskier is dragged back from the bars]

[maybe describe getaway, but idk if needed]

============

"this is cirilla. ciri, this is--"

"ah-ah, let me do my own introductions, i get to say it so rarely, after all." he says, cutting geralt off and turning to ciri. his shoulders roll back, posture straightening, carrying himself with a sudden air of gravitas. "my name is julian alfred pancratz, viscount de lettenhove. graduate of oxenfurt, master of the seven liberal arts, and esteemed poet and minstrel, better known throughout the kingdoms as the famed bard jaskier. at your service." he bows deeply, a fluid, graceful movement, and when he comes back up he looks rather pleased with himself.

there's a beat of silence. "...my partner." geralt finishes his earlier statement, eyebrow raised and thoroughly unimpressed. ciri mostly just seems surprised. "don't worry, you get used to the chatter."

jaskier splutters, cheeks turning red in offense. "you! that was a perfectly lovely introduction, you

[bicker] i dont know why i put up with you [bicker]

[something abt the moment of levity, but then geralt is saying "we need to go to sodden hill, [why] i think yen is there and i need to find her", then the moment when geralt realizes she is (presumed) dead where jaskier's playful insults fall away]

============

[noticing eskel, gets feeling he needs to check, finds out abt infection, etc etc]

============

[change vesemir pov]

he doesnt think these flowers are the answer. he doesnt recognize them-- though if he knew every part of the formula, it wouldnt be lost to him as well. still, though, it doesnt sound right to his ear, even if he doesnt know as much about flora as one might if they'd dedicated their life to the study of it. he can imagine, though, being desperate enough to believe it. he thinks back to eskel, and how they'd almost lost him to such a stupid error. he feels the loss of their way of life, their traditions, weighing on his shoulders in a way he never thought he'd face in his lifetime.

the little scrap of paper in her hand is so innocuous. and even if it's wrong, or merely an approximation of what once was, he feels the need to keep it, to catalogue it, preserve it as he has everything else in the keep... even the unsavory ones. the metal rack so many boys died on, that countless others were changed in, /chained/ in, sitting in the basement like it's a coffee table. like it's nothing. like it isnt horrific.

but it's all he has. and it's what they needed.

his fingers curl around the paper. "how many other people know of this blossom? would be likely to put two and two together?" he asks.

"not many at all, i would imagine. even fewer would know how to apply the knowledge , or emough inner workings of witchers to make the leap. and it's only a theory, anyway, i cant confirm it as of yet." she replies, watching him closely.

their numbers, so weakened, so devastated. the continent is running out of monsters, but it hasnt run dry just yet-- witchers are still needed, and theyre dwindling. and yet...

he flicks his fingers, and the page goes up in flames. a little cast of igni, and suddenly the secret is unknown once more. "cant let anyone know how we're made-- sorcerers have been after the information for as long as there have been witcher schools. no telling what havoc they'd wreak across the continent if they had the recipe. and... there will be no more boys."

he looks at the ashes in his hand, and he aches in ways he doesnt have words for, for the life he had and the men he lost and all those boys. "i thank you for your diligence, and your offer," he says diplomatically, "but i urge you to forget what you've discovered, and tell no one. and if you do decide to divulge our secrets, then i can only pray your approximations were wrong."

she had looks surprised when the fire burst to life, but understanding settles across her features.

[cozyqueerchaos]

hello!! I write some docs in the fandom, and I’d like some advice!

I’m cooking up a new AU in which Maria is alive, and Geralt as well - in it, Shadow is the sole income provider. (Geralt is too busy studying Maria’s condition and the grant money for his studies ran out a long time ago.)

The only thing is, I’m unsure how to approach Maria and Shadow’s relationship in this situation! I’m able bodied and so I’ve refrained from writing about her until now, out of la k of knowledge and stuff.

If you have the time or any ideas, I’d love to know how you’d handle their dynamic or any tips you can give me!! (It’s really not obligatory, I’ve just seen you speak on this subject before and thought to ask!!)

ps I love your works :3

Oh hi!! I'm really flattered you asked me- this is actually something I've been thinking about a lot lately since I've been working on a "Maria-lives" au of my own! (although gerald doesn't in mine. haha rip loser)

okay so general things:

- we don't know very much about maria which means you can do pretty much whatever you want, character-wise! We know she was hopeful and saw the good in everything (even creepy things), and that's pretty much it! Creative freedom haha

- we don't even know how old she is in relation to shadow (shadow was made after but his canon age is older than hers????). you can make that up too, and that will effect their dynamic. (Older siblings are often the "protective/calm" one)

- Maria has an autoimmune disorder, which means that she is vulnerable to external stimuli (aka viruses). If you wanted, you could have her wear a mask outside, or maybe make her or her family be slightly germaphobic :P (although theoretically shadow is immune to disease?)

- people with chronic pain often use mobility aids. not that you necessarily have to!! but it is an option

- there are good days and bad days. I live most of my life at a mild (3-5) level of pain and it doesn't change much since my hobbies aren't particularly active ones, but sometimes it shoots up to like an 8/10 and I'm basically out of commission.

- EVERYTHING is relative. Ever been sick in bed for a week? Or recovered from surgery? After a while, pain gets boring. You have to start doing things for your own sanity. And I think that's what's most important to remember with disabled characters (particularly ones with chronic pain)- after enough time spent with the same pain, you do actually grow accustomed to it. It doesn't make you any less sick, but you learn how to function within it

- that said, that level of function is different than an abled person's. Being sick is very tiring, and everyday things can cause pain. This differs for each person and each type of pain, but things like running, lifting objects, standing for long periods of time, etc.

I think that's all I got right now!! I don't feel like I answered your relationship dynamic question very well but hopefully that was at least a bit helpful! Lmk if there's anything I need to elaborate on ^_^ also feel free to send me the fic when you're done!! I love ARK sibling stuff hehe :D

[herbalinz-of-yesteryear]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag dear and talented @aftergloom ! Tagging @jawanaka @andordean @poetikat @stardustbee @storm89 @ro-the-bard-writer @wholelottatiffy @grinningnexu @botherbother-blog @eloquentmoon and/or anyone who’s interested.

1. How many works do you have on A03?

Twelve.

2. What's your total A03 word count?

153,256, discounting a fic translation. 😬

3. What fandoms do you write for?

The Witcher (books & game), Cybperunk 2077, Star Wars

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

By kudo ratios i think it’s: the stars are not there, Await the Dawn, The Path of Aloneness, Seeking Resonance, Half Moon, Full Circle, something like that I don’t want to calculate everything 😂

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes! To show my appreciation to the commenter, make friends, gush over blorbos. When commenter comments on many chapters I tend to reply in conclusion-ish to one or few of them, because I don’t want to flood threads with my own comment, perhaps out of an ingrained false sense of modesty?

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

…I’m not sure 😂 All of fics are angsty fics, but with a sense of emotional catharsis at the end so I’d hope none? I recall some comments pointed out certain level of heartwrenchingness at Regis/Queen of the Night ficlet, and a little bit with Takemura’s ficlet. I think Blood of Emerald might be the angstiest ending when it’s done (no getting around it there hehe)

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Seeking Resonance! But even then readers also pointed out sad sentiments 😆 It’s a fluffy ending imo

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Not yet :)

9. Do you write smut?

Yes! Not very adept but I’m learning.

10. Do you write crossovers?

Sort of. One Witcher x Cyberpunk 2077 long before the game was out.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yes and not sure 100% which one (i have no memory); think it’s the Regis Professor AU fic?

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No but would like to.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Hard question. I’m a multishipper. Maybe Geralt x Yen? Cerys x Ciri x Tankred? Judy x V?

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Aside from one abandoned sequel to my first fic, I don’t think there will be unfinished WIP. I’m just slow at em.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Psychology. Environmental storytelling. Some level of symbolism and metafiction employment. For fanfiction, maybe my close observation and portrayal of canon characters, i dunno; I do go a little lotho-minor-maul method before I can write anyone.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Oh boi. I’m still quite a novice, so basically everything aside from the few strengths. Especially with structure. Also dialogue. Also visualization of scenes (strange yes, but I am unable to see scenes most of the time, about short of aphantasia). I have great difficulty in writing long works.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

If there’s a purpose, whether for worldbuilding inside fiction or cultural reasons in real life. But sometimes it can be the bad kind of jarring. I remember personally opt to not use latin directly for star wars fic, for example (even tho translation sounds stoopid).

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Witcher! My Once and Future.

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

Seeking Resonance I suppose. It’s soft and brought soft feelings to others on bad days. I loved that.

A bit cheating here since I haven’t finished, but I think really it will be Blood of Emerald. It’s basically original fic given the amount of worldbuilding and characters I have to do on my own, and the story is from a legend the length about 2 pages in canon ending with everybody dying (sad, angsty, violent deaths). Rare character, obscure material. I’m writing a full-length fic literally for myself and maybe 2 other people in the entire fandom. It gives me ulcers and insomnia. “odi et amo, nescio” 😂 Jks aside, I think for me there’s the allure like that of Matters of Britain retelling. The ending is set in stone, no one ever gets to know the whole truth. And it’s not even about the “how we got here.” A blink of light long gone by the time it reaches the eye. But for some reason it must be told.

I like Await the Dawn, too. And the stars are not there. Discovering the fun and love for OC first time here huehuehue

Somewhat relevant ramble: reflecting on what aftergloom mentioned in her experience, Q.11 (stolen lines and fics)—my writing is usually detached from my life, and I made a point to myself and closed ones irl that I would be extremely cautious in using real life material in my fiction. But there is a bit of that “grain of truth” in the stars are not there. My childhood crush had an unusual dream about me and I kept the sentiments while writing Maul (it is hard not to write a bit of myself in this character; The Wrath did a good job evoking some memories…). I found it to be a valuable exploration in my approach to writing. I think I would feel ambivalent to stolen lines, as it is hard to keep track of where “originality” begins and ends, but it would be quite an interesting experience indeed if bits of real-life event is written by someone else. ==

[sometimesiwrite]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favourite five fics that you've written then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

With Us- This series started as a single story and has since become a series of sorts. I started working on it when I was in the depths of isolation, living in the city, and feeling abandoned by my community. Thankfully I had another community to keep me afloat. I see this story and this series as a bit of a tribute to all that I've learned and how much I've grown as a result of the big-hearted, ever-communicative, deeply-affectionate (however geographically separated) community of creatives I've come to call my friends.

Steady As She Goes- This was the very first story I ever wrote for Lambert. He and I didn't get along at first. He displayed a lot of behaviours I associated with a person I did not want to remember or have anything to do with. Slowly but surely, with the help of writers who knew and understood him better, I was able to separate the two and see Lambert for who he was, finally confident enough to develop my own version of him. Simultaneously, I was beginning my long-standing love affair and fascination with Essi Daven. I adore her, and at the time wanted to give her the kind of love I felt she deserved but wasn't able to have with Geralt in A Little Sacrifice. I got thinking about what kind of character would be a good fit, who would be compatible with her and balance her depth of feeling, her intensity, her empathy? So I gave her Lambert and a whole journey unfolded from there. This is also the first fic of this length I had ever written, and for that alone I'm incredibly proud of it. I challenged myself in a lot of different ways with this fic, and I continue to as I work slowly on Part 2. All That You Deserve- Technically this is part of With Us but it's an a/b/o spinoff AU featuring Alpha!Essi during her first heat since moving in with new partners. I had never written an a/b/o before this, and I had this on the back burner for a long time. I've had a lot of thoughts and feelings and questions about my gender and how to self-identify those thoughts, feelings, and questions. I still don't have any answers, but I at least have thoughts and feelings to process rather than confusion and vague frustration. Essi has become a vehicle for experimentation and expression for a lot of things I can't or don't want to experiment with or express in my daily life.

Delayed- Once again, this started as a one-off, but turned into a series. I still have plans to write more of this world, but have been sidetracked by other projects. The first chapter was written during an incredibly stressful life transition and Lambert and Eskel helped me feel like I wasn't doing it alone and that there was hope and peace at the end of the chaos tunnel. I'm not sure what I want for the next chapter, but I have a few thoughts floating in the background.

Untitled Lambert WIP- This work remains unfinished and I have plans to complete it soon. I started this as my second Lambert piece in an attempt to further challenge myself to understand him more deeply. It's a gen fic—no pairing, no primary relationship of any kind to focus on. It visits Lambert's first year on the path and expands on a headcanon I developed in Steady combined with a headcanon from @on-a-lucky-tide that was briefly developed in one of their early series. I look forward to being able to share it with you when it's finished.

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

?

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

[dont-tempt-me-frodo]

Have a Geraskier AU concept. Dunno if I’ll do anything with this but here it is:

CW: attempted rape

Geralt is a Gladiator of the Colosseum. The famous White Wolf. People travel from all over just to get a glimpse of this mighty warrior, and will pay a hefty amount for his ‘company.’

Vesemir is a very particular slave trader who takes on orphaned boys, trains them up, and sends them out to fight. His Wolves are the very best of the best. Geralt, the White Wolf is his most proudest achievement. Closely followed by Eskel the Red Wolf, and Lambert the Black Wolf. Each subjected to the harshest of training techniques. Each emerging as the strongest, unfeeling fighters. Vesemir has the emotion beat out of them until they learn to repress it. Emotion is a weakness, and by the Gods are his warriors the opposite of that.

Kaer Morhen is a villa up in the mountains with its own small arena. This is where Vesemir lives and trains his gladiators, transporting them once a month to take part in the tournaments at the Colosseum and then back again. He also enters them in smalls events, parades, sells their bodies for sex, anything really that will make him the extra coin.

At one of these smaller events, the execution of several prisoners transported back from Britain is being organised and Vesemir offers Geralt as the arenas champion.

The idea is that each slave will get a chance at earning their freedom if they can defeat the arena’s champion. Of course, they don’t stand a chance. But the fights are entertaining enough to gain crowds. And with the White Wolf as the executioner, the organisers and Vesemir stand to make a pretty penny.

Geralt fights and kills several slaves, each a trembling terrified wreck, each falling to his sword after barely lifting their own. It’s almost monotonous for him. Almost boring.

But then another slave is shoved before him. A young man with dark chestnut hair and dazzling blue eyes. The man is scared, it’s obvious in his shaking hands, but he holds himself with dignity, a look of defiance on his face and he spits at Geralt’s feet, throws his sword down and refuses to fight. He wants to die with what honour he has left, Geralt realises.

The crowd around them boo and jeer, but the young man is unwavering, meeting Geralt’s masked gaze with an admirable steadiness.

Geralt hears Vesemir shout at him to do something, so, he back hands the slave, sending him sprawling to the ground.

The noise the young man makes at the blow is almost heart wrenching, but Geralt doesn’t feel. He doesn’t.

The slave wipes his split lip on the back of his hand, then slowly pushes himself up again, resuming his determined stance, refusing to fight him.

Geralt smacks him down again.

Pick up your sword, he growls at the man, fight me.

The slave gets to his feet again, his legs shaking slightly.

I stand strong in the eyes of my god, he shouts out so that he can be heard above the clamouring crowd, I will not send him my soul tainted by the whims of yours.

Geralt sends him to the ground again, stomping on his chest to prevent him from getting up, tilting his chin back with the point of his sword.

The young man glares up at him, breathing hard, eyes blazing, unwavering, and for the first time in Geralt’s life, he falters.

There is a strength here, very different from his own, an… emotional strength. And he needs to know more.

The crowd are calling for the slaves death. Geralt looks over his shoulder to Vesemir.

His master’s expression is hard to read, but after a moment, Vesemir shakes his head and Geralt concedes, stepping away from the slave and sheathing his sword.

The crowd let their contempt at the decision known, but Geralt doesn’t bare them a second thought. He does as he is told.

The young slave is taken from before him, and Geralt spends the next few days doing nothing but think of him.

Eskel calls him a fool. Lambert mocks his soft heart. But Geralt cannot get rid of the look the young man gave him, challenging him to kill him and accepting his fate.

They return to Kaer Morhen not long after that and to Geralt’s surprise, he sees the young man among the household slaves. He looks just as wretched as he did back in the arena but is now wearing the grey tunic embroidered with the Wolf sigil associated with Vesemir’s house.

Vesemir tells Geralt that he’s assigning the slave to him personally. The young man will be at his beck and call as Geralt requires him, as well as carrying out duties around the household.

There’s a sense of pride that flows through Geralt. He himself is a slave. Owned by Vesemir. Being given a slave of his own is a huge honour, and the other Wolves would be jealous if they could feel.

Geralt quickly learns that the slave is called Jaskier and once Jaskier starts to eat properly and fill out, the more Geralt realises how beautiful he is. He doesn’t talk much, not that Geralt is all that interested in what he might have to say, but he watches Jaskier go about his duties, and wonders where that fire went. The defiance and the stubbornness. It almost seems like the young man has given up, which is hugely disappointing to Geralt for some reason.

Until, one of the Gladiators in training catches Jaskier behind the sleeping quarters and tries to rape him.

Geralt hears a commotion as he passes and head down to see what’s going on.

He sees the trainee pinning Jaskier to the wall, trying to stop him writhing about so he can get between his legs. But before Geralt can react, Jaskier twists out of his hold, grabs the knife in the trainee’s belt and stabs him through the neck. The trainee dies with a gurgle, blood bubbling on his lips and soaking into the ground. Jaskier stands over him, shaking, drops the knife, spots Geralt, his face drains of colour.

Vesemir has one rule about this kind of behaviour. His slaves’s bodies are not their own. He decides how and when and with whom they have sex. If they are caught with each other, they are severely punished. This goes for all his slaves. His household and Gladiators alike.

When Jaskier is brought before Vesemir, Geralt stands up for him, explaining what happened. Shocked at himself because what does he care? But for some reason he does, he cares about Jaskier. And by the gods he will not let him be harmed if he can help it.

Vesemir accepts Geralt’s version of events, not even giving Jaskier the chance to explain himself, and sends everyone on their way.

After that, Jaskier is a little more open to Geralt, a little warmer, engaging in conversation now and then, watching him with furtive looks and curiosity.

Geralt learns about his life before the Romans took him. His family. His home. His love of music.

All Geralt has ever known is the arena, but Jaskier makes him long for a life outside the Colosseum walls. Makes him long for freedom.

Very slowly his walls come down and the emotion he has been repressing for years creeps back in and he realises that he’s fallen in love with Jaskier. And he promises himself that he’s going to get Jaskier out of here, take him somewhere safe where no one will hurt him ever again. Give him the life he deserves, the life that was taken away from him. By the gods he swears it, he will set Jaskier free. Even if it kills him.

[imnotwolverine]

Wolfie’s Fic Recs | The Grand Library of Kink 1/2

THE GRAND LIBRARY OF KINK - Allow me to give you a list of treats to quench the unbearable thirst between your thighs. 

>> Looking for part 2 of this list? <<

🖐WARNING: NSFW - SMUT below the cut 🖐

Author’s note: Let’s be honest. You probably are prowling the Tumblr grounds for the same reasons I am: there’s some darn good porn fics out here. And in the year I’ve been in the Cavillry, I’ve gathered a most wondrous collection of soft to extremely kinky fics. Time..to make a more comprehensible list of my favourites thusfar! (💦It’s long, so you better have some fresh panties at the ready💦)

In this library you’ll find:

Part 1:

Self-help 101  

Cherry Popping Goodness 

Vanilla With A Sprinkling Of Sex Toys 

Vanilla - Toybox Special 

Henry’s Hands Special

The Hook-up

Part 2:

Sensory Delights

The Triple Threat  

Fuck - The Geralt Special

Take It Like A Pussy - The Napoleon Special 

Hammer-time - The Walker Special 

Cpt. Cunnilingus - The Syverson Special

Thighs And Canes - The Sherlock Special 

Fem!DOM 

--

Self-help 101

[This one’s all about the act of self love - solo masturbation]

Toys are for boys. Unless it’s in the bedroom..right? Almost The Same by @lunedelorient  [Henry x Reader]

Mike can’t help himself as his gaze falls upon your lipstick stains on a beer bottle. Where else would he like those stains to be? Lipstick by @emyearns [Mike / reader]

A toy arrives to sweeten the lonely nights when Henry is away. There’s only one minor detail as the package is being unwrapped; she isn’t alone yet. Flying Solo by me [OFC x Henry Cavill]

I love fics written in Henry’s point of view. In this one Henry can’t take it no more. He simply needs to let off some steam; I Need A Woman by @chamomilebottom [Henry Cavill x reader]

This man gets caught..a lot, doesn’t he? You give Henry a helping hand as you catch him in the shower in Welcome Home by @rosethornsanddaisies [Henry Cavill x reader]

I wasn’t sure whether I should put this in the self-help section. So consider yourself warned: watch out..you’re in for a solo-lovin’ surprise in On Display by @ladyreapermc [August Walker x Reader]

--

Cherry Popping Goodness

[There’s a first time for each flower to bloom - loss of vaginal/anal virginity]

The bookstore meet-cute, the skipping heartbeats, and the fluster of cheeks as she just read a steamy passage of her book aloud. It’s the perfect recipe for romance...though there is one tiny, tiny... Her Minor Thing by @ladyreapermc [Henry Cavill x erotica novelist!OFC]

For one night only, gigolo August Walker will make all your fantasies come true. His specialty? Sweet, innocent little flowers. Velvet Chains by @littlefreya [August Walker x reader]

The morning after the cherry popping, a bud starts to bloom. White Honey by @littlefreya [Henry Cavill x reader]

This fic! This. Fic. I hadn’t seen I Capture The Castle when I read this fic, but it made me fall for Stephen so freakin’ hard that I kind of watched the movie straight after. It’s sweet, blushing-cheeks worthy and utterly cinematic. Bluebells by @yespolkadotkitty [Stephen x reader]

August Walker, a virgin? Well..there’s a First Time For Everything by @hope-to-hell [August Walker x reader]

Theseus didn’t mean it to go this way. But he was so thirsty - and now for more then just a drink of water. To Die of Thirst by @hope-to-hell. [Theseus x reader]

It’s Geralt’s first time and isn’t a Witcher body just a fascinating thing..hmm... Anatomy Lessons by @princess-of-riviaa [Geralt x experienced!reader] 

I didn’t know bullet point lists could be this sensual and H.O.T. - First Time w/ Henry by @henchry [Henry Cavill x reader]

GOODNESS ME. Can first times be like this for everyone, please and thank you?! My Flower gives you squirt-inducing, sweet talkin’ Henry making the most out of this special little moment. By @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

Wait till marriage with August? Highly unlikely....right? Uncharted Territory by @chamomilebottom [August Walker x reader]

Now onto some other sanctuaries to plunder. (Anal that is) Poker Night @foodieforthoughts [Syverson x OFC]

Lets @littlefreya’s words entice you into a new world as you and Henry finally pick the Forbidden Fruit (yep, anal again) [Henry Cavill x OFC]

And now we’re on the anal train, I do notice that men barely ever get any backdoor lovin’ from their partners. And I know, I know: most men are really apprehensive about it. But goodness can it be good! Sy has learned of it’s sweetness and reminisces that first time in Sy And The Sex Tape by @hope-to-hell [Syverson x reader]

--

Vanilla With A Sprinkling Of Sex Toys

[Couple’s sex with just a touch of kink] 

Let’s start with a game. Written in the language of love (French that is), this enticing bit of foreplay gets the blood streaming alright. Invisible Touch by @emelinelovesjc [Henry Cavill x reader]

Is it time for my favourite poetic foreplay fic?! YES it IS! Ode by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether just does something for me and I can simply not explain - just go ahead and read it and see for yourself! [Henry Cavill x reader] 

The key to good sex, is foreplay. And teasing during an event? You bet your  sweet ass you can get Henry riled up. Tease by @captainbigdy [Henry Cavill x reader]

Ready for some myrrh mountain-esque, super indulgent eroticism? Read Confessions by @captainbigdy [Henry Cavill x reader]

Birthday sex

What do you give a man who has it all, for his birthday? A little boudoir, a little make-out on the couch and...Happy Birthday by @rosethornsanddaisies [Henry Cavill x reader]

Apparently boudoir pictures for Henry’s birthday is on y’alls mind! A Picture’s Worth by @sunflowersstan gives you a belated birthday present - but that definitely should not spoil the fun. [Henry Cavill x reader]

Home (coming)

For once, Henry is forgiven for his ungodly early alarm clock: it’s beach time! And Kal will be there too. Home by @chamomilebottom [Henry Cavill x reader]

Henry, unfortunately, isn’t always home. In fact, he’s away quite a lot. Meaning it’s all the important to make up for lost time: Welcome Home by @geralt-of-baevia [Henry Cavill x reader]

And what’d you do if he finally comes home, but an impromptu surprise party is organised by his friends? Better Keep Quiet, baby. By @toomanystoriessolittletime [Henry Cavill x reader]

Does that come with side effects? When a 200 pound beast tackles you after coming home, you just might feel it in the next few days. Lust Worthy by @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

Home is also domestic goodness ( “Can I, baby?” He whispers against your cheek, placing a soft kiss to it, his eyes searching to meet yours. >> I mean..YES YOU CAN!! DO WHATEVER YOU MUST YOU HUNK OF A BEAR 😩) in this sweet ficseries chap by @lovelycavills: The Night [Henry Cavill x reader]

Tropes to lovers 

Friends to lovers trope, anyone? Of Fck It by @tillthelandslide gives you beers on the couch, friendly banter and then WOOPSIEDOODLIEDOO. [Henry Cavill x reader]

More friends to lovers with one accidental wet dream while lounging on the couch with Henry. Dreaming by @yoursecretsmutblog [Henry Cavill x reader]

Or perhaps PA/boss to lovers? Thunder by @toomanystoriessolittletime gives you Henry in full Geralt gear and rain..lots and lots of rain - meaning it’s time for a ..😏break. [Henry Cavill x OFC]

One more PA story to get the storm in your pussy settled. Years after working for Henry, you send a drunk text and he Answers. In the flesh. By @toomanystoriessolittletime [Henry Cavill x reader]

Audio porn

Another thing I got quite attached to while I learned all about my kinks here on Tumblr, is audio porn. And what better than to have Henry do some audio recording for us thirsty women? Erotic Audios Present... By @thetaoofzoe [Henry Cavill x OFC]

More audioporn!Henry? @toomanystoriessolittletime has got you covered with Talk Dirty To Me, starring photographer Henry who has had.. a bit of a past - and doesn’t his voice sound terribly familiar? 🧐[au!Henry Cavill x reader]

Communication

Smutty fics practically always skip the “So what do you actually like”-part. Well. This fic covers it - and then some. The Interview by @peachyvulpixie. [Henry Cavill x OFC]

And communication is very - very important. Especially when moving stuff around, right Henry? A Little Bit To The Left by @lunedelorient [Henry Cavill x OFC] 

Communication is also key when you want to decide on sub/dom dynamics. Switch has daddy vibes, but in a domestic, confidential, well-established relationship. By @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader] 

Or, you may just want to tell sweet Henry that it’s definitely okay to get a little louder between the sheets. Express Yourself by @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

A thrilling ride

Want to “chose your own adventure” in smutty style? @sciapod’s got just the thing you’re looking for with BD Morning Energy  [Henry Cavill x reader]

Sometimes it’s rough, sometimes it’s sweet, but ever and ever; it’s truly Henry. Read about various types of horny Henry in Shapeshifter by @wanderinglunarnights [Henry Cavill x reader]

Body/orgasm insecurity

This was a very personal piece to write. I have difficulty reaching orgasms, especially with a partner, so for all fellow ladies with the same little problem: Henry is here to give you some Riding Lessons between the sheets. [Henry Cavill x OFC]

And I’m so, so glad that there’s at least a few of you here on Tumblr who can also get a little worried and even impatient between the sheets. Thankfully Henry is the posterboy of Patience, ready to unravel you piece...by.. delicious..piece. By @captainbigdy [Henry Cavill x OFC] 

Nipple love

Female nips get all the lovin’. But male nipples? Not often. Tease by @the-soot-sprite will make sure that is taken well taken care off. [Henry Cavill x reader]

Alright, and now for a little female nip-nip action, let’s dive right into the action. Rough lovin’, shovin’ Cavill is showing you how terribly fucked out he can get you in In My Thoughts by @jolly-polly [Henry Cavill x reader]

Horizontal vs. vertical sex 

Shower sex is such a delectable topic to read about (even though in real life it’s usually awkward and impractical). Let your dreams bring you..after workout Showers with Henry by @darklydeliciousdesires [Henry Cavill x reader]

Or perhaps honeymoon shower sessions? Mirror by @tillthelandslide [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Did someone say honeymoon? Marshall remembers having to climb through that darn window the night before he married you and it makes for a super sweet, domestic fluffy smutty sex scene. And did I mention there was family right at the other side of the door? 👀 Locked by @fourmarkdove [Marshall x reader]

After all that working out it’s time for some food. But what would Henry prefer: ragu or you? What’s Cooking by @writingforhenry [Henry Cavill x reader]

Netflix and Chill

Netflix and chill, anyone? This Movie Night becomes a little steamy 💦 by @writingforhenry [Henry Cavill x reader]

It’s really difficult to watch tv with Henry around, and Freya gets a little frustrated with his incessant teasing; can a woman not just watch some Mindhunter in peace, damnit?! The Refund by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Play-time! 

From game play to girlfriend play during an extremely boring day in lockdown. Confined by @darklydeliciousdesires [Henry Cavill x reader]

More game chair smuttiness? It’s Game on! Mic on! - And ..Eh.. wait..what?! By @thecavillchronicles [Henry Cavill x reader]

Is tickle-play a thing? After a long day where everything seems to have gone wrong, you just need a good shag and Mike will make sure you can Sleep soundly tonight. @emyearns [Mikey x reader]

Alright, it’s a thing. Here’s some more tickle play with Marshall. Laughing During Sex by @promptandpros [Marshall x reader]

Hereby I declare that hairplay is also a thing. And with curls like Henry’s..I mean..come on. Love So Soft gives you dry-humping like horny teenagers after a bad day - and yes..hairplay. By @princess-of-riviaa [Henry Cavill x reader]

Needy Henry

Sad sky eyes are in dire need of some medicine, but Rose doesn’t realise until she’s getting some action for herself that the best medicine for Henry’s malady, is probably not watery soup. In Morbus Et Salus by @fanficsrusz [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Drunk Henry is in need of a midnight snack. And it’s a good thing there just happens to be one in his bed. Drunk In Love by @angrythingstarlight [Henry Cavill x reader]

And the next morning he might just be a really, really needy bear. (My boyfriend, for one, is always EXTRA horny when he is hungover 😂) Five More Minutes by @angrythingstarlight [Henry Cavill x reader]

A few more

And five minutes is probably all you get when you have kids. But it just makes these little mommy and daddy moments all the more sacred. Close To You by @the-soot-sprite [Henry Cavill x reader]

There’s also not a lot of time when you’re in a limo, trying to get your groove on. 🎶Driver roll up the Partition pleaseee 🎶by @fanficsrusz [Henry Cavill x reader]

Now to finish off this vanilla segment: vanilla kisses! Lick Me Till Icecream by @the-soot-sprite [Henry Cavill x reader]

--

Vanilla - Toybox Special 

[A special toy segment for you vanilla(ish) lovers] 

When it’s play time - long work day or no - Henry better be prepared for some frisky business. On Purpose by @wanna-do-bad-things (also hell yes for including some toys!) [Henry Cavill x one very frustrated OFC]

More toys? MORE TOYS! Command And Obey brings you dom!Henry being a terrible teasing ass, but alas..it still gets you all kinds of wet *shrugs* By @wanna-do-bad-things [Henry Cavill x reader]

Perhaps need some dom!Clark instead? With toys? We’ve got you covered. By @poledancingdinos [Clark x OFC]

Now, let’s not forget about Henry’s favourite toy of them all. His bike. In Good Vibrations by @deathonyourtongue [Henry Cavill x reader]

You find Henry pleasing himself with something you didn’t even know he owned; a fleshlight. Henry’s Toy by @viking-raider [Henry Cavill x reader]

--

Henry’s Hands Special 

[I can’t be the only one who has the hots for hands]

Having a bad day? Talented fingers belonging to one caring man of a Henry are here to let off your steam. Burn The Couch by @meowpurrbooks [Henry Cavill x reader]

I’m glad I’m not the only one who has a complete and utter obsession with male hands. This fic is amazing in every way. It’s got suspense, hands AND Henry; Idle Hands by @thelastsock [Henry Cavill x Reader]

More handsy stuff is offered in this private drawing session. Draw Me With Your Fingers by @emelinelovesjc [Henry Cavill x OFC!author]

This fic? ..it’s hands-on work. I must give a disclaimer: I’m hard to please when it comes to daddy!fics, but this one I truly enjoyed. It perfectly rides (hehe) the fine balance between rough throat fucking, choking and usage of the endearing nickname ‘little fawn’. Hands by @twhstuckylover [Henry Cavill x reader]

Henry’s hands are here to warm you up on a cold day in Finger Work by @yoursecretsmutblog [Henry Cavill x reader]

--

The Hook-up

[A little less established, a little more messy. But definitely h-o-t-h-o-t-h-o-t]

Changing rooms may just hide a Dirty Secret (and crotchless pantyhoses) by @foodieforthoughts [Henry Cavill x OFC]

Being toyed around, Henry can’t stand it any longer - and goodness where did he leave that darn bowtie?! Caught In The Storm by @thelastsock [Henry Cavill x Reader]

Syverson is also not one who likes to be toyed around with, especially when you’re in the same bar wearing that deliciously short dress and his favourite high heels. Mine by @yoursecretsmutblog [Syverson x reader]

Dancefloor delights and popping buttons (is this a good time to admit I have ripped some shirts like that? *woops* 😅) - this quite exhibitionistic fic is an utter delight and I’m Glad You Came  by @foodieforthoughts [Henry Cavill x reader]

Since this is steady-hook-up I wasn’t sure whether to post it in this segment or the Vanilla segment, but ..yea..it definitely deserves a read! Rules Of Engagement has Em and Henry coming to the realisation that a friendly hook-up isn’t all that easy. Especially not when one foul IUD throws baby dust in their busy lives. By @ladyreapermc​ [Henry Cavill x OFC] 

Marshall specials 

An old friend/lover shows up just when you find yourself with the predicament of a broken down car. Before you know it you’re having car sex with one curly haired police officer in..yea..a police car. A Perfect Shitty Day by @toomanystoriessolittletime [Marshall x reader]

OOPH you girls are in it for the Walter hook-ups. Forget That Asshole follows up after you had one particularly disappointing blind date. And thankfully a blue eyed sweater-bear-man is there to provide you some much needed consolation.  By @penwieldingdreamer [Marshall x reader]

Sex on set

On set things might just get a little steamy, so might as well take ..*clip scene* ACTION! Touch Me Tease Me by @deathonyourtongue [Henry Cavill x OFC]  

More on-set delights? Perhaps with a touch of embarrassing nerves? Directed By La Petite Mort by @wolvesandhoundshowltogether [Henry Cavill x reader]

--

>> Looking for part 2 of this list? <<

--

Artworks/edits are mine ❤️And as always: if you have more fic recs to add, share them in your reblogs/comments! 

--

[pillage-and-lute]

If you're still taking request - your arranged marriage Au made me think of Jaskier as maybe someone cursed and in a tower, maybe everyone thinks the prince in a tower is guarded by a terrible dragon but the prince IS the dragon, and Geralt investigates?

Cute idea, elementalsight!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Rescuing a fair maiden, really?” Geralt said.

“The notice had he/him pronouns, so probably not exactly,” Yennefer said, looking at her nails. “And you need the money. Do you want the contract or not?”

Geralt picked it up from the table and smoothed the parchement. 

“There’s really very little information here, they say he’s guarded by a dragon?”

“Mmmhmm,” Yennefer said, brushing at a chip in her nail polish that was probably imaginary.

“There’s no dragons out here, the terrains wrong, we’d know anyway.”

“Mmh, intriguing, right? Bet you wanna take that contract now.” Yen hadn’t looked up from her nails.

“Yen, what do you know?” He lashes cast odd shadows across her face in the torchlight.

“Nothing I’m telling you,” she said. Then she summoned a portal and disappeared with a swish of skirts.

Damn. He really was out of money though.

The tower wasn’t imposing or ominous. It wasn’t made of black stone or crooked, no random lightning storms or smoke, it wasn’t even that tall. 

“Go away,” the voice came from a throat like a blast furnace and Geralt was staring into the slitted eyes of a mid sized (still big enough to eat him, just in more than one bite) dragon.

“Hello,” he said. “What’s a sky dragon doing in a place like this.” It was his special ‘talking to horses or big animals’ voice.

“Not a sky dragon,” the sky dragon grumbled.

“Yes you are, and what’s weird is that you should be up on some chilly cliff, not in a forest.”

“I’m a dragon, not any special kind. The eat you all up and burn your armor kind.” There was a pout in the voice now. 

Geralt scratched one of the snout scales.

“Sure,” he said. The dragon huffed, blue-silver smoke rings curling from the nostrils. No eating occurred.

“I imagine I’m not very good eating,” Geralt said. Most witchers would probably at least give a dragon indigestion. “I also imagine you know something very important about the prince in the tower.”

The dragon, despite having eyes the size of soup bowls, did not meet Geralt’s gaze.

“He’s not even a very important prince, I don’t know why you’re interested.”

“I’d quite like to know why he’s imprisoned in a tower,” Geralt said, although a mental picture was forming. “And why I have a contract to kill both him and the dragon guarding it.”

The dragon pulled back sharply and hissed. A blade thin line of fire, blue and so hot it nearly seared off an eyebrow, missed Geralt by inches.

“Monster hunter,” the dragon said, shifting up on it’s haunches like it was getting ready to pounce. It wasn’t. He could see it in the muscles, they weren’t bunched right. The dragon didn’t want to hurt him, and the eyes just looked sad and kind of resigned.

“Yes,” Geralt admitted, holding up his hands, both currently sword free. “But I don’t want to kill him...or you. Monster hunter, not prince hunter.”

“Dragons are monsters,” the dragon said. 

“Only to stupid people,” Geralt replied. “And sheep,” he added as an afterthought. “I want to meet this prince of yours.”

“NONE MAY ENTER,” the dragon said. “NOW LEAVE BEFORE I BURST YOUR EARDRUMS WITH A ROAR”

“You can’t, that’s only earth dragons, they’re all curled up under a mountain somewhere, and they’re certainly never blue.”

“The dragon looked nonplussed. “I’LL SPIT ACID IN YOUR FACE.”

“Swamp dragons,” Geralt said. “Green or yellow and a little smaller.”

“I’LL...”

“You were raised by humans,” Geralt interuppted.

“No?”

“Yes you were, otherwise you’d know more. Did the prince raise you? I won’t harm him you know, I only wan’t to talk.”

“NONE MAY ENTER.”

“Yes, you’ve said, but I won’t take him away. I just want to know why people want him dead.” Here Geralt looked the dragon right in the blue eyes, close enough to se the silver flecks in the iris. “Maybe I can help him, help you both.”

The dragon looked away. “Come back at sunset.”

Geralt did. 

He yelled out for the dragon but it wansn’t there.

“I’m climbing the tower,” he called out. “Don’t flame me, you invited me.” And he clambered up the tower. Coming back down he’d be thankful for the rope he’d brought, because the stones were slick and smooth. He sat on the small windowsill and swung his legs into a room. 

It wasn’t a very nice room. It was definitely a prison. small bed, one candle, uneven table and wobbly stool. A young man was sitting on the floor, cradling a lute.

“Are you the prince?” Geralt asked. He hadn’t seen a picture and although he felt silly making sure, he’d feel sillier if he got it wrong.

“Yes, are you the dragon slayer?”

“Witcher,” Geralt said. “And I did’t slay your dragon.”

“He’s not my dragon, he’s my fearsome jailer, keeping me inside this tower.”

“No,” Geralt said. “I doubt it. Show me your eyes.”

“No,” said the prince, not looking up.

“I’ll bet they’re a very pretty shade of blue,” Geralt said. “With silver.”

Blue and silver eyes met gold.

“You knew,” said the prince, swiping dirty, brown hair from his brow.

“You act odd, for a dragon, prince...” he sought the memory. “Julian.”

“Friends call me Jaskier,” said Jaskier. “Although I don’t have many. Just a little bit of dragon blood in the line, barely more than a drop, really, but I just so happen to get all of it. Anyway, I thought all dragons could look human.”

“They can,” Geralt said. “But they’re raised by other dragons, so they don’t act the same. Why are you inprisoned? And why was I sent to kill you.”

Jaskier sighed. “It’s not good, is it, to have a dragon for a son, even if he is your third son and won’t inherit. Father locked me up and had a mage cast a spell. As a dragon I can roam a little, but I can’t climb down the tower as a human, and I’m only human at night, some mishap with the runes as I understand. True love’s kiss breaks the mage’s spell.”

Geralt scoffed. “That pansy stuff never works.”

“It’s just what I was told,” said the prince, shrugging. “Somehow my father got the idea that true loves kiss will also make me no longer a dragon.”

“Not how that works,” Geralt said.

“No,” Jaskier agreed. “But he keeps sending heroes after me hoping they’ll kiss me.”

“The contract said I was to kill both of you.”

“Yes, well, that would also take care of the problem, wouldn’t it?”

“The problem being you?” Geralt said. 

“The problem, generally speaking, being me.” 

“We’ll break the spell,” Geralt said, although it wouldn’t be that easy.

“And then what? I can’t fight, I’ve no useful skills and nowhere to go. According to you I don’t even make a very good dragon.”

The young man slumped down. “But I’ve been so lonely,” he said. “You know I’ve been here five years? Just me and my lute, I think I’m going mad. You could even be a figment of my imagination.”

“Right,” Geralt said. “Getting you out first, dealing with other problems later.”

“Where am I going to find true love’s kiss?” asked Jaskier. “Do I kiss you?”

“You could try?” Geralt said. He really wouldn’t mind. The prince was whiny and a little dirty but very good looking. “But I was thinking more like, finding the runes and wiping them out.”

“You can just do that?” Jaskier leap to his feet. “They’re right up there,” he pointed among the cieling beams. “I can’t reach them on my own but the two of us...”

Geralt was already lifting the princling onto his shoulders. He didn’t weigh a lot.

“Just a little forward,” Jaskier said, accidentally kneeing Geralt in the chin.

“Hmmm,” he said, to avoid cursing, and shifted forward. 

“Thery’re coming off! The runes are wiping away!”

He was loud but Geralt couldn’t blame him, five years was a long time. Although not compared to a dragon’s lifespan.

“They’re gone, I’m free!” 

Geralt let the boy down from his shoulders and got a surprisingly tight hug and a very pleasant, extremely enthusiastic kiss.

“Just...you know, covering all my bases,” said the blushing prince. He really was cute.

Geralt carried him down the tower. Delighted, Jaskier turned into a dragon, then back to a human, then a smaller dragon, house cat sized, and perched on Geralt’s shoulder.

“Where are we going now? And what’s your name? Will I meet other witchers? Don’t forget to bring my lute?”

It would probably get old very quickly, Geralt thought. But the company was kind of nice, if a little scaly.

[jaskierswolf]

Weight on My Shoulders

A very self-indulgent prequel to my not so kinky soulmate AU (Tumblr/AO3).

Any references to events or messages involving my own darling soulmate @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde is purely coincidental. I promise we are much more needy than this.

Ship: Geraskier (pre-romantic)

CW: Far too much pining, mentions of anxiety, long distance friendships

_____

Jaskier pouted as he wrapped himself up in his weighted blanket and duvet. Even with the additional weight he was struggling to sleep properly, but it did help. What would really help was a hug from his soulmate, but that was off the table. Geralt was a bazillion lightyears away, all the way in America, and Jaskier was stuck in miserable, grey England. They’d been talking online for two years, and the distance wasn’t getting any easier. If anything it was getting worse, and Jaskier wasn’t sure how much more he could take of it.

“Jask, you’re falling asleep, love,” Geralt hummed from the too bright screen that was lighting up his room. “Go to bed.”

“I’m in bed,” Jaskier huffed.

“Go to sleep, we can talk more in the morning.”

Jaskier whined, sinking further into his blanket burrito. “But I have work again tomorrow, I don’t want to sleep. I want to talk to you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Geralt sighed, smiling warmly at him through the screen, “But I will be here when you wake, I promise.”

“I’d rather you be here with me.”

It was pathetic. Jaskier knew it was pathetic, but he just felt a warmth in his chest, a ghost of Geralt’s arms around him.

“I’m always here” Geralt hummed in his mind.

Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s mental embrace, letting himself soak in the glow of his soulmate’s warmth. He was struggling to keep his eyes open which didn’t really matter but he only had a few hours each day to video call his soulmate and he hated wasting any of them. It had been worse the last few days. Essi and Pris had announced they were going to honeymoon in New York, and whilst they wouldn’t see Geralt, they would be a whole lot closer than Jaskier had ever been. He’d even considered asking to tag along in their suitcases so he could afford the trip to the States.

He just missed Geralt so fucking much.

“I love you,” he mumbled again, wiping the tears from his eyes that he hadn’t even realised had formed. “I love you more than Dandelion.”

He tried to laugh but it sounded weak to his own ears. Dandelion was a musician, just like he was hoping to be, a beautiful tall elegant man with gorgeous long blond curls, and a laugh that could outshine a thousand suns. He was also Jaskier’s celebrity crush and inspiration. Jaskier had been obsessed since he was sixteen, secretly hoping that Dandelion was his soulmate. Not much had changed since meeting Geralt in his dreams. He was still completely obsessed with the musician, only his daydreams tended to include Geralt as well, a fact that his soulmate thankfully found endearing.

“Wow,” Geralt chuckled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “That’s high praise.”

“It’s true! I would renounce my love of Dandelion for mere seconds in your arms,” Jaskier insisted, “and then I would never let you go and you’d be stuck with me.”

“It would be hard to work with a Jaskier in my arms.”

Jaskier scoffed, rubbing his eyes. “You’ll manage.”

“Sleep, Jask,” Geralt’s words were a low hum, added weight to his blanket and Jaskier could feel himself slipping. He supposed it was only a matter of time really, it was nearly midnight and Jaskier had to get up at an ungodly hour for work. “For me.”

And really that was just unfair. Geralt knew that Jaskier would do anything for him. He was just that desperate for attention, although despite his slightly less dramatic personality, Geralt could be equally needy, if you knew how to read him.

“That’s cheating,” Jaskier whined.

“I never said I play fair.”

“Betrayed by my own soulmate,” Jaskier pouted as Geralt hung up the call and his tiny little bedroom fell into darkness. Without the light of his phone, Jaskier was fighting a losing battle. “I love you, dear heart.”

“I love you too, a lot. Too much.”

Jaskier scoffed, turning to hug his pillow. “Never too much, never enough. Goodnight, my love”

“Night, Jask.”

_______

When he awoke the next morning, Jaskier had a notification on his phone. It wasn’t unusual. Geralt often left him little messages, pictures of Roach, or things that had reminded him of Jaskier throughout the day. Sometimes, if Jaskier was lucky, Geralt would leave him gifs of Dandelion, and on even rarer occasions, awkward selfies that were never flattering despite Geralt’s godlike appearance. Jaskier treasured every single one. But no, that morning he had a more unusual notification.

It was from Lambert.

They’d talked a couple of times, mostly in a group chat whenever Geralt wanted to include Jaskier on family film night or playing games online, which Jaskier was shockingly terrible at, especially the shooting games the boys preferred. Lambert had never DM’d Jaskier before though. There had never been an occasion to, so why bother?

So Jaskier was feeling more than a little anxious about clicking on the message.

“Geralt?” he tested, although he was pretty positive that his soulmate was asleep. Geralt would usually at least say good morning when he was awake, but there had been nothing but silence through their soulbond.

It came as no surprise when Geralt didn’t answer.

His phone buzzed again in his hand, another message from Lambert.

“Bollocks,” Jaskier groaned, sitting up in bed so he could find his glasses. They were buried under his blanket and looking a little bent out of shape but that was nothing new.

L - Guess who’s coming to England on a business trip!

Jaskier’s heart jumped and hope soared through his body, a flutter of wings in his chest as his pulse raced, only to be destroyed in the next second.

L - It’s not Geralt, shit. I should have started with that.

- It’s me.

- I’m coming to England. Found out this morning. All expenses paid. - I’ll be in London for a week, if you want to meet up?

Jaskier stared at his phone. He was excited, of course he was but he couldn’t help the ache in his heart. His friend was coming to England. Geralt’s family was coming to England. That was one step closer to meeting his soulmate in person, but it wasn’t far enough. He felt like shit. Guilt tore through him. Lambert was clearly excited about his news and yet all Jaskier could think of was how he wasn’t Geralt.

Maybe he could give Lambert something to take back to Geralt. They’d sent letters and parcels back and forth but it would be different like this, and he should be excited. He should be over the fucking moon.

And truth be told, if he hadn’t felt so incredibly needy already he probably would have been more excited, but his heart was feeling fragile. Jaskier had spent the last week or so wondering if Geralt loved him back in a romantic way, or whether they would just be the dearest of friends. Whatever it was, Jaskier would be fine. That’s how soulbonds worked. They would be perfect for one another, platonically or romantically but Jaskier fell hard and fast.

Surely Geralt would love him back in the same way, right?

Jaskier was too afraid to ask at this point. He just kept saying “I love you” and hoping that Geralt would hear the truth. Neither of them had spoken about dating other people, but Jaskier knew there was no hope for him. Perhaps the odd fling, but he’d tried that once and without the connection he had with Geralt, he just wasn’t really into it.

He sighed dramatically and picked up his phone.

J - That’s fucking brilliant!!

He added a stream of emojis for good luck.

J - and all expenses paid for?! Drinks are on you, darling x

L - You should be so lucky.

- Pay for your own drink you cheapskate.

Jaskier squinted at the screen, pushing his fringe from his face. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips, and he ignored the dryness in his throat. Logically, he knew he should get up and get some water but his bed was comfy and he didn’t quite want to face the day yet, especially as Geralt was asleep. Things just felt heavier when Geralt was asleep.

He sighed again and tapped out a message.

J - Can you sneak Geralt in your suitcase?

- I’ll pay for the luggage fee <3

Lambert started typing immediately and Jaskier waited with bated breath. It had been a joke but there was always a chance that Lambert would be allowed a plus one… right?

L - I’m afraid not

- I’m sorry. I know you want to meet.

- Geralt is just as upset. The bastard hasn’t spoken to me all day.

Jaskier couldn’t help but laugh at that. He’d sensed something had been bothering his soulmate, especially when Geralt was the one to insist they video-called before Jaskier went to bed, but it was nice to hear that he wasn’t the only one being pathetic and unreasonably grumpy. Sometimes it felt like Jaskier felt everything and Geralt was just putting up with him because he didn’t have much choice. In his heart, Jaskier knew that wasn’t true, that Geralt just showed his love in a more sedate manner.

Opposites really do attract.

He sighed and switched chats, typing out a quick message to his soulmate.

J - I miss you. I love you. I will be unbearably needy today. Sorry!

Flipping his phone to the camera app, Jaskier snapped a quick selfie. He looked like a mess of stubble, glasses and ratty hair… but Geralt never seemed to mind.

J - Isn’t your soulmate the best?

- Love me?

- I love you

- I already said that but it’s true.

Jaskier cursed and threw his phone onto the end of the bed before remembering that he hadn’t answered Lambert yet. He pouted and scrambled to find his phone again, struggling against the weight of his blanket. The blanket did wonders for his ADHD but it could be a pain in the arse to move sometimes. Reluctantly, he switched back to Lambert’s chat.

J - I can’t wait to show you around! Ooh we could go to the natural history museum, I’m sure some of the stuffed animals look just like you! Or maybe a show!

L - Not sure how much I’’ll be able to hang out, but we’ll have to get a photo to show Geralt.

- He’ll probably be jealous.

- But he’ll manage.

Jaskier rolled his eyes. Siblings could be the worst. He’d never really gotten on well with his own sisters but he could imagine having Lambert for a brother would be a hundred times worse. Still, he smiled at his phone. Geralt would be jealous. Geralt wanted to meet him. That was a good thing, no matter how much Jaskier pined to see his soulmate over Lambert.

This was a start.

One day.

They would meet one day, and then Jaskier would never have to let him go. He just had to be patient… for now.

[wherethewordsare]

Heyo! For the prompt list could you do either 20, 23, 29, or 33? I love you and hope your day gets better!!

Hi nonny! Uh, this is... super late? like.... SUPER LATE! That bad day kind of turned into a couple of months. Woops? I hope you might still be interested in this? So...

Also some warning, cw: blood, injury and coma. Modern au. <3 thanks for reading

Also!! thank you @witcher-and-his-bard for reading over this for me TT~TT <3

20. You’re in a coma and I confess all my feelings only for you to wake up.

“I’m coming, I’m coming, sorry!!” Jaskier panted into the phone. Geralt could hear him move around someone as he sprinted. 

“I thought we said 3?” He was teasing. He knew Jaskier was going to be late, he always was. That’s why he told him 3 for a 3:45 movie. 

“I know I know, I just lost track of time! I’m coming across the street now,” There was a scuffling sound like Jaskier nearly tripped.

“Which one?” Geralt spun around slowly, looking across the busy road. 

“Tenth,” there was a hard huff. 

Geralt turned to see a bright jacket sleeve waving at him and he chuckled as he closed his phone. He had been looking at Jaskier but the flash of green caught his eye as a car ran the stale yellow.

Right as Jaskier stepped out into the street. 

“Jask-” Geralt was running before he could stop himself, the loud thud of breaks ringing in his ears as he leapt over jersey wall, his phone already dialing 911.

--

Three broken ribs, a head injury, internal bleeding, and a list of other minor fractures and bruises a mile long. Geralt sat in an uncomfortable chair, his leg bouncing anxiously as he listened to the doctor in a daze. 

Jaskier was going to be fine. 

He was going to live but there would be a time for recovery and he would need help for a little while. But he was going to live. It was the only thing Geralt clung to as the doctor saw himself out. They had induced a coma for the time being, just to keep him still long enough to get a good look at him, giving his body time to hold still long enough for the scans and tests. The doctor had said that he would come to in his own time but Geralt could always come back later if he wasn’t up to waiting.

He was resolutely not going anywhere. 

He pulled the chair closer to the hospital bed, looking Jaskier over and wincing. There was a nasty cut to his forehead that had left much of his face bruised and the fracture in his wrist would stop him from playing for at least a couple months. He was going to be furious. 

The thought of an angry and pouting Jaskier at not being able to play music made Geralt chuckle a little. He was going to be hell to put up with. 

The thought tightened his chest and he leaned his head against the edge of the bed, sighing. 

“You put me, of all people as your emergency contact?” Geralt asked, not expecting Jaskier to respond. “Though, to be fair, you’re mine too.” He crossed his arms, leaning his chin against it so he could watch Jaskier’s face. 

“You’d think that might mean something, but I don’t-” He looked away, letting the beeps of the heart monitor chirp at him rhythmically. Even in a near coma, Jaskier was filling up the silence that Geralt left behind when he couldn’t find the words. 

“I was planning on maybe seeing if it might have meant something,” he confessed, rubbing at the stubble on his cheek. “Was starting to think maybe I could start letting…” he shrugged, looking back at Jaskier. “You’d be so mad right now if you knew I was actually trying to talk about something at length and you weren’t even awake to hear it.” 

Geralt pushed up from the bed, leaning back into the chair. He covered his face with both hands and groaned. 

“You gotta help me here, Jaskier. I’m not good with words, you know I’m not. But I nearly-” He swallowed thickly before taking a shaky breath. “I saw you get hit by a car today and all I could think was ‘It’s too late, I’ve lost him and he’ll never know,’” he hung his head, reaching out with one hand and tentatively wrapping it around Jaskier’s. 

“You were almost gone and I’ve wasted so much time not saying anything.” The fear he had pushed down earlier, the adrenaline that had launched him into action seemed to buzz under his skin again and he felt like he would shake apart with it. “Jaskier, I’ve loved-” he wet his lips, staring at the floor. “I love you, I have for a really long time and I need to tell you because I can’t-” he squeezed Jaskier’s hand lightly. “I don’t know what I would do if I lost you and you never knew.” 

Geralt slouched forward, all his energy draining as he said it. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to calm the aching that sinched in around his ribs. There were fingers in his hair, brushing back the strands that had fallen out of his ponytail when he had fidgeted with it in the waiting room. They pressed gently into his scalp, nails dragging over his skin. It was a comfort he hadn’t realized he had needed. 

There were fingers in his hair. 

There were-

Geralt sat up quickly, looking at the bed. Through the bruising and the swelling, and the low shitty light of the hospital, Jaskier was giving him a small tired smile. 

“Hey there, you,” he rasped, wincing. 

“Uh-” Geralt fumbled for the water on the side table the nurse had brought, his fingers struggling to hold the straw steady for Jaskier.

He watched as his friend took a tentative sip, grimacing as the straw brushed against his split lip, but he still smiled up at Geralt. His eyes were glassy and his hair was a mess from where they had haphazardly washed out the blood. He was a ruin of his former self and it made Geralt want to crawl into the bed beside him and curl around him and make sure nothing like this ever happened again. 

“I know,” Jaskier said simply, the small chuckle he tried for died with a groan but his hand reached blindly for Geralt’s. “Well, that is to say, I had hoped but I thought I’d give you time to say it yourself.” His features seemed over soft with pain killers. But his fingers held around Geralt’s with a vice grip. 

“What?” 

“I love you, too. I’m sorry I was late to the movie,” he hummed, his eyes closing again for a moment. He looked like he was trying to gather his thoughts together.

“I- What?” Geralt repeated. His face felt hot and he was suddenly aware of how close he had been sitting to the bed. 

“I said I’m sorry I was late to-” 

“No, the other thing. Before that.” Geralt leaned in, his eyes searching Jaskier’s face. 

“Oh, sweetheart. I love you too, always have.” Even through the pain and the drugs and the day from hell, Jaskier of course had found the words so much more easily than Geralt could have thought possible. 

He crawled into the bed next to Jaskier, careful not to jostle him too much. That tension in his chest released the moment Jaskier’s head hit his shoulder, an arm bulky with bandages and gauze came around his middle, pulling him closer. 

Geralt pressed his nose into Jaskier’s hair, ignoring the distinct hospital smell as he hummed, letting himself settle for the first time since the accident.

“You weren’t late,” he started to chuckle.

“What?” Jaskier was starting to slip back under the meds and Geralt could feel him shake himself back awake enough for this. 

“I lied. The movie was at 3:45. You would have been just in time,” He kissed Jaskier’s temple gently, curling around him.

“Leave it to you to start our relationship like this,” Jaskier slurred. He was out before Geralt could say anything to that. So he stayed and waited, keeping Jaskier safe in his arms.  

[andyet-here-we-are]

I Would Get Into Millions of Accidents Just to See You, Chapter 3 (aka Nurse Geralt AU)

(Check the pinned post for the first two chapters please~)

The next day flows by in a blur for Geralt. He wakes up, takes a shower, prepares a quick but nutritious breakfast for Ciri, and makes oatmeal for himself.

On his way to the hospital, he thinks about Jaskier and wonders if he should call him now. He almost does that, but then he decides against it because he knows that Jaskier is busy having his fourth dream right now probably. It's too early to call him as much as he wants to do so. 

His mind wanders on how cute Jaskier sounds when he is sleepy—when he has just woken up.

Cute, but also usually a bit grumpy even though he denies it with every inch of his being.

***

"That shouldn't be legal," is what Geralt thinks when he steps into the hospital room, unable to take his eyes off Jaskier's sleeping figure. "I can't believe I'm supposed to do that. God, have some mercy on me. I love my job, I really do, but it sucks big time sometimes. Why should I suffer this way?"

A moment later, he is well aware of how dramatic he is being, and how hard he frowns, making a source face. It's not like him to act like this at all.

Damn.

"That dramatic son of a flower must be rubbing off on me," annoyed at himself, he mumbles before he coughs as if that alone is enough to wake the musician up. 

"Good morning," he tries when Jaskier doesn't wake up and slightly turns to the other side of his bed instead.

"Mr. Pankratz, it's your medicine time."

Jaskier slightly opens his eyes just to look at him this time, and the first thing he mumbles is: "What happened to your ears?" before closing his eyes again. 

"What are you talking about?" The nurse questions, checking his ears with his free hand that isn't holding the medicine tray, wondering what he meant by that.

"Are you still asleep?"

"Yes... No. Maybe?" Jaskier mumbles again, half asleep as he rubs his eyes, trying to make sleepiness go away.

"You will have to pick one of them."

The musician opens his eyes after a while and smiles at Geralt.

"Morning. God, what a sight to wake up to."

Geralt must be used at this by now. Because whenever Geralt has to wake him up, no matter how much Jaskier complains at first most of the time, he always utters the same words eventually.

"What a sight to wake up to."

Yet, every time he does that, Geralt's heart flutters in his chest.

"You didn't sound too happy with my ears, though. What was that about?"

"Ah, about that. I had a dream that— promise you won't laugh?"

"Can't do."

"Anyway," Jaskier yawns and explains: "I had a dream that you were an... elf."

"I was a— what?" Geralt laughs.

"Hey! You said you wouldn't laugh!" The musician stares at him like he is ready to kill him. 

"I never said that," Geralt forces himself to stop laughing. "Well, that explains everything."

"Shh, stop interrupting me. It's mean."

"Sorry, I'm all ears. Not elf ears, though, sorry to disappoint you."

"Don't sweat it. Bad guys were trying to steal Mrs. Ansley's—who was a fairy, speaking of which—cookie recipe, which was also the key of a parallel universe, somehow. You were trying to protect the recipe, then puff. Some gingerbread men came out of nowhere to help you, but you tried to... eat them? Well, not just tried actually. You managed to eat their leader. Therefore they decided to join the dark side. Can't blame you, though. They looked pretty yummy. I was about to hop on my unicorn for help when you woke me up. A unicorn wearing a pasta costume. Pink pasta costume. Yeah, yeah, I know, that makes no sense, is there even a pink pasta costume?" He asks sleepily, raising an eyebrow. "Also, I had a magical lute, I think."

"You think that your whole dream makes sense, but just the pink pasta costume doesn't?"

"I've never seen a pink pasta costume, so..."

"Oh, sorry, right. I forgot you have seen everything else but that. The elf version of me, alive gingerbreads and all. My bad."

He chuckles at that lightly.

"Still more possible than a pink pasta costume."

"The most ridiculous dream you had this week might be this one so far."

Jaskier seemed to have taken it upon himself to tell Geralt about his dreams. This was the eighth dream he talked about this week, and it wasn't even Friday yet.

"It was like," he opens his arms wide as if he is presenting the name of his new song to the whole world, " 'Geralt and Jaskier in Wonderland' I blame the medicines. And you," he points at the nurse. "I also blame you. For looking like... " he then gestures at everything, "this."

"You blame me?" The other man snorts, amused. "If anything, you should blame yourself for having the wrong dream. Have you ever looked at yourself? You would make a good elf, not me. You are as bea— I mean, anyway, medicine time."

"I am what now? Wait, wait, wait, were you about to call me beautiful?"

"I was about to call you bearable, but then I thought that would be mean."

"I think you were about to call me beautiful, but then you thought 'That wouldn't be professional, you are his nurse,' or something along these lines. Also, that's not even how you start when you're about to say 'bearable' they are not even pronounced the— "

"That's not what happened."

"Nahh, I'm pretty sure that's exactly what happened, but eh, whatever helps you sleep at night, love."

"You're probably thinking you're still in 'Geralt and Jaskier in Wonderland', go back to sleep, you're delusional."

"I am so not! And that would be your problem even if I was. Wanna check my fever?" He says, giving the nurse a once-over, "I feel hot, suddenly."

"Well, that explains why you're delusional, doesn't it?" Geralt teases. "Take your medicine and you will be just fine."

Jaskier sighs and does as he is told.

"Geralt," Jaskier says before Geralt is about to leave, a grin on his face "I think you are 'bearable', too. "

***

Geralt means to call Jaskier.

He really does.

Yet, whenever he is about to call him, something comes up, and eventually, he just accepts that he is going to have to wait for his shift to be over. 

For some reason, he doesn't want to call him and get interrupted after a minute.

And he doesn't want to send him a text, because he prefers hearing his angelic voice instead.

So, yeah. He is kind of stuck there for now.

***

Geralt finds Ciri laughing at her own joke as she watches The Office when he gets home, and this reminds him of Jaskier since that's something they both have in common. Once again, he finds himself thinking about the musician.

***

“Shit, it hurts,” Jaskier says, holding his chest.

“Maybe it’s the universe’s way to tell you to stop laughing at your own jokes.”

“Oh shut up, the universe can kiss my ass.”

“Seems like it prefers to kick your ass instead.”

That draws an annoyed laugh out of him, which makes him hiss in pain.

“It wouldn’t send me here if it was trying to kick my ass, Mr. Should Have Been A Model But Became A Nurse For Some Reason.”

“I can't believe you still keep using that silly nickname unironically. Don’t you think that it is a bit long?”

“You may be right. Hmm, I’ll just call you ‘Mr. Handsome Nurse,’ from now on.”

“Please don’t. No.”

“How about just ‘Handsome’ ?”

“Still no.”

“Why not? It’s just a fact. You wouldn’t get mad at someone if they would point at a yellow wall and call it a ‘yellow wall’ would you?”

“That’s not the same thing.”

“I see no differences.”

“Then you better get your eyes checked.” 

“Speaking of which—” Jaskier reaches for his scratch book standing on the bedside table “can I borrow your eyes for a second?”

Geralt frowns, wondering what the musician is up to this time.

Jaskier opens his scratch book and stares in his eyes intently for a while and as he scribbles something. "Thanks," he says, "I just needed an accurate model of the stars."

"You know," the nurse shakes his head and answers smoothly: "you could just ask for a mirror."

Geralt can't help but smirk at his open-mouthed speechlessness. 

***

He hears a familiar voice singing, and for a moment he is sure that he has finally gone insane. 

Drying his hands on a washcloth, Geralt makes his way to the source of the voice, thinking "That must how Jerry feels when he follows the smell of a piece of cheese Tom tries to fool him with."

Jaskier's voice is irresistible to him, just like how cheese is irresistible to Jerry.

Absolutely irresistible, and hard to miss.

He could distinguish Jaskier's voice among all the rest if he heard it in a room filled with millions of men singing a song together.

This voice is coming from their living room. To be more specific, from Ciri's laptop—which she was supposed to use for searching her homework topic, but that can wait for now—

"Or I shall die," he hears Jaskier singing oh so sincerely and dramatically "or I shall die!"

"Dad! Please don't be mad, I swear to God I was going to start doing my homework, but—"

The first thing he does when he sits on the couch next to his daughter is grabbing the laptop and rewinding the video to the start. He then checks if the volume is at maximum.

"Shhh," he gestures, all of his attention is on the video he is watching.

He doesn't even realize that he takes a deep breath as soon as he sees the musician's face appear in front of him on the screen before Jaskier even starts singing.

He is as beautiful as ever in his ridiculous mint green shirt that he left the first four buttons undone.

It has cactus patterns on it.

Geralt can't help but wonder if Jaskier wearing this shirt is actually some kind of a secret message to him and him only.

Didn't he say that Geralt was just like a cactus?

"...prickly on the outside sometimes, but soft on the inside? A cactus in the desert.”

His words. Not Geralt's.

What does that even mean then? Something like "I wanna wear you on me like a shirt?"

Okay, he should probably stop because he is reading too much into this and—

"Anyway, so, this song goes to the cruel man who made me want to buy this shirt because it reminded me of him. You know who you are,"

Geralt's breath hitches.

He is not reading too much into this.

If anything, it's vice versa, because Jaskier dedicated a song to him.

Jaskier is thinking about him, too.

Thinking about him too much that he has decided he should dedicate a song to him.

The scene splits into five and one of the boxes on the screen shows Jaskier playing the piano, while in the other he plays the lute occasionally, violin in another one, and accordion in the other one. And in the other, he sings.

Good God. Is there anything this man cannot do?—Besides picking names for babies maybe, since picking names is definitely isn't his strong suit.—

"I tell myself what's done is done

I tell myself don't be a fool

Play the field have a lot of fun

It's easy when you play it cool"

"Does this mean he gave up on me because he got fed up with waiting for my call?" he thinks. But then again, why would he sing a song for him if he gave up?

While watching the video, Geralt is well aware of the fact that he will watch this video again and again and will take special care of each Jaskier— making sure not to miss even the tiniest of the mimic and gesture he does.

"I tell myself don't be a chump

Who cares, let him stay away

That's when the phone rings and I jump

And as I grab the phone I pray

Let it please be him, oh dear God

It must be him or I shall die

Or I shall die"

He was right, this isn't a song that screams: "I'm giving up." Thank God it isn't. Jaskier puts his hand on his chest as he sings, and Ciri sighs next to Geralt, resting her head on his shoulder as she watches the video with him. 

"Oh hello, hello my dear God

It must be him but it's not him

And then I die

That's when I die"

That dramatic son of a flower actually flings himself into an armchair.

"After a while, I'm myself again

I take the pieces off the floor

Put my heart on the shelf again

You'll never hurt me anymore"

While he sings the "put my heart on the shelf again" he puts a heart sculpture on his bookshelf with a serious look and frown on his face. He might have got this heart sculpture just for this video for all Geralt knows.

"I'm not a puppet on a string,"

At this point, Geralt wouldn't be surprised to see actual strings attached to the musician's body just so he could cut the strings. He really wouldn’t be surprised, at all.

Because Jaskier is that extra most of the time.

And Geralt loves that about him.

"I'll find somebody else someday

That's when the phone rings, and once again

I start to pray

Let it please be him, oh dear God

It must be him, it must be him

or I shall die, or I shall die"

The musician's voice goes up effortlessly into an unreachable octave as he sings the last part, and it's impossible not to be impressed. 

But then again, the man puts his heart into everything he does, therefore even doing something like folding a simple frog origami seems impressive when he is the one who's doing it, let alone singing as perfectly as this.

He then slowly walks towards the camera as the other boxes disappear and that one takes over the screen.

"Seriously though," he makes an aggressive 'call me' gesture, and the scene fades to black after that.

"Whoever keeps Jaskier waiting must be crazy," Ciri comments and gave a snort of disapproval and frustration. "He must care about this idiot of a guy a lot if he sings for him like this. What a jabroni. It would take him only a minute to call him."

"Ciri!"

"What? I'm right."

"That's not a nice thing to say," Geralt warns as he hands the laptop back to his daughter.

"I'm surprised that you watched the full thing, by the way. Actually, you don't seem too annoyed with me watching his videos nowadays, and you seemed quite interested in this one."

"I just love Vikki Carr," Geralt says. He has seen the title of the video, after all, so he knew this was a cover of her song. "I've wondered how he sang this song."

"Name five Vikki Carr songs then."

Geralt doesn't know five Vikki Carr songs— he can't even name two, let alone five.

"Okay, I think that's enough fun for you today," the nurse pretends not to have heard his daughter. "Do your homework while I go out to get some milk."

"We have milk at home."

"No, we don't."

"I put it in the fridge myself just this morning, so yeah, we do."

"We're out of these cookies you love, though."

"I thought you said they consumed way too much sugar so we were going to come up with a healthy and as I've read from your invisible subtitles, also probably boring recipe we can make together this weekend?"

"I— God, you ask a lot of questions today." Geralt whispers tiredly, pinching the bridge of his nose and letting Ciri's "boring recipe" comment slide.

Fuck him for not saying "I'm gonna go get some groceries," instead.

"I just asked one question, but okay. So? You changed your mind?"

"Yeah, I changed my mind, just for one more week, you can have it."

"Really?! Thanks!"

"Anything you want, pumpkin. Alright, I'm off!"

Geralt ruffles her hair before he grabs his wallet, keys, and most importantly, his phone.

Just before he closes the door, he can hear Jaskier's voice coming from the living room once again.

He cannot blame Ciri at all.

***

"If this is another spam call and not the important call I've been waiting for I swear on all my lute strings that I'll crush that damn phone on the ground and dance upon its bloody ruins! Actually, no, wait, that would mean the possibility of missing the call I've been waiting for, but you got my point."

As soon as Jaskier answers his call and starts talking, he feels like all the tiredness of the day disappears. Jaskier's voice manages to do that even when he is simply busy telling him off, having no idea who he is talking to. 

He can see that Ciri was right. He is an idiot for waiting for the right time.

"I'm seriously so sick of—"

Geralt finally cuts him off by saying: "Wow, I wouldn't wanna be a scammer or something right now, you aggressive Dandelion."

"Wait a second, this voice— Geralt?! Is that really you? Oh my God, you finally ca— I mean—"

Jaskier coughs as if he tries not to sound too excited, "Heey, the best nurse in the existence," Geralt can almost see his flirty frowning, yes, he manages to make even frowning look flirty for crying out loud, "How's it hanging?" he asks, his voice sounds deep, lazy, and dare he say, sensual.

"I should be asking you the same question. Are you still praying by the phone?"

"Someone does stalk me on social media, I see."

"And someone sings a song and makes a pretty impressive video clip for me, I see. My daughter was watching it, and that's how I found out about it. Just for your information."

"So you're not the one who stalks me online. It's Ciri," Jaskier says, and the fact that he remembers Ciri's name warms up Geralt's heart if he's being honest. "Sweet. Cool. Cool. I'm not hurt by that at all."

"Well..."

"Would you die if you let me be happy for just a moment? Not that I'm not happy to know that your daughter still watches my videos, but it would be nice to hear that you were the one who checked my account willingly."

"I'm sure I would see your video today anyway. Maybe it wouldn't be that soon, I admit, but I would see it."

"Is that so?"

"It is so."

Silence.

But it isn't an uncomfortable one.

"Did you really find it impressive?" Jaskier asks, his voice is full of hope and happiness.

"Well—" 

"Nah, I know it's impressive, forget that I asked," he lets out a long sigh, "If I knew making a video clip for you would make you call me right away, I would do that earlier. Were you playing 'hard to get' or something? You know... I find it kinda cruel to make someone who just got out of the hospital keep waiting on the phone for so long. For your information, that 'kinda' is kinda unnecessary here maybe. I call it 'the polite kinda'. Or 'the unnecessary kinda'. " 

The next moment, Jaskier's playful tone leaves its place to a caring, worried one as he keeps talking: "If something is going wrong with your life, I take it back though. Ignore everything I said in that case. Is everything okay? Are you okay?"

"Ah, about that— Don't worry, everything is alright," Geralt replies, "I was thinking about calling you today, but I couldn't quite find the time. I know that's not an excuse, and I know I could call you earlier, but I didn't want to call you only to say 'I have to hang up,' a minute later."

"I’m happy to hear that nothing is wrong. And well, even that would be better than leaving me hanging. Or a simple 'Hey, the best patient ever' text would do. You took so long that I would be lying if I said I didn't think about getting involved in another accident."

"I'd rather you didn't."

"I would get into millions of accidents just to see you, Geralt. Provided that I could have you as my nurse every time, of course. What's the point otherwise? I'm not a masochist."

"Such a flatterer you are, Mr. Pan—"

"I'm not trying to flatter you. Cross my heart and hope do die, I'm just scattering the facts around like they are glitters. Or cake sprinkles."

"God forbid! Accidents, death... Aren't we gonna talk about nice things at all?"

"I've been waiting for you to call me forever. I have every right to be bitter about it."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise. How about I start making up to you, starting now?" 

"Sounds like you have something in your mind, Mr. Handsome Nurse." 

"I do, indeed. Have you had dinner yet?" 

"Does strawberry yogurt count as dinner?"

"I highly doubt it. You were complaining about hospital food, and yet that's what you choose to have for dinner?"

"I've never said I count yogurt as quality dinner, but it's still better than the things you dare to serve people as 'food', I should admit, I thought you already came to terms with—"

"Maybe you should come over so I can show you how a proper, nice dinner looks like. I'm not half bad at cooking."

Jaskier is silent on the other end of the line.

"Are you still there?" Geralt asks finally, "I'm sorry if this was too forward of me or too soon, I just thought it could be nice. You could meet Ciri too, that way." 

"No! Yeah! I mean—" if Geralt didn't imagine it, Jaskier sighs and murmurs an angry 'get it together you dumbass,' to himself before he continues talking. "Yes, I'm still here. No, this wasn't too forward of you. I was just taken aback a little bit, sorry. I mean, not every day a handsome nurse who I've been waiting for his call for a decade calls and invites me over for dinner. I'd love that, Geralt."

"I'll send you the address, then." Geralt checks his watch, it's nearly 6 p.m. "Is eight okay for you?"

"Sure, that should be fine. Hey, Ciri still doesn't know, right?"

"I don't think I need to answer that."

"Huh? Why is that?"

"Don't you think she would just grab my phone and call you herself if she knew? Or reaching out to you on every social media possible? Shouting from the rooftops, even?"

"She really likes me that much?"

"She just called me, I quote, an 'idiot', 'crazy', and 'jabroni' after watching your video, so..."

"She did what?!"

"I mean, not directly at me since she doesn't know I'm the 'him' in the 'it must be him', but still." 

"Seems to me like you're in big trouble here."

"Don't even remind me about it."

"I'd be lying if I said that doesn't put some pressure on me though. I mean... What if she doesn't like me?"

"Wha— Ciri already adores you. She adores you so much that it's annoying sometimes."

"It's impossible not to like you," is on the tip of his langue.

"They say never meet your heroes. What if when she actually meets me, she goes 'Meh, that's it?' What if I disappoint her somehow?"

"Worrying about earth getting invaded by the aliens in pink pasta costumes and tutus would much more sense compared to this. Believe me."

Jaskier laughs at that, but Geralt can still sense that he is not completely convinced.

"If you say so."

"I know so, Jaskier. I know so."