#Eskel keeps sneaking into this AU I LOVE him

[spielzeugkaiser]

[MASTERPOST]

I feel like Eskel will think of those days that he spent with Milek and Jaskier for a long time..

[catscraftsandcommentary]

So I had some time to think tonight at work (in between operating heavy machinery, swearing at the materials, and trying to keep the line running, fun times!) And I asked myself, "self, hypothetically, what might @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU look like in another generation or two - once people really get used to witchers being The Good Guys (TM) and helping out?"

And I was like "well, they'd probably get invited to social events - ooh! Who'd like which events best?!? What would that look like?"

Geralt, as we all know, detests anything too formal or Warlord-focused. He enjoys weddings and receptions, but his TRUE favorite is baby christenings. Seriously. Put him in a room with a tiny baby and he's happy as a clam. He'll happily growl away (or weaponize his puppy-dog eyes against) grannies, aunties, and other family members to hold the baby for as long as possible. He's also 90% of the reason that witchers are now rumored to be able to bless babies.

When Mouse and Treyse bring this new rumor to the council, everyone has to just sit. And process for a minute. Because what the ever-loving fuck?!? (Jaskier immediately writes the sweetest lullaby ever, "A Witcher's Blessing", and it is the ONLY song that Geralt ever sings in public, and only ever to babies and small children. Multiple women blame this for their immediate conceptions.)

Jaskier adores weddings and festivals of all types, and if a happy couple includes details of how they met and/or fell in love with their wedding invitation, there's at least a 50% chance that he'll show up to the wedding with a personalized love song, holy shit.

Ciri loves tourneys. Loves watching them, loves displaying in them, loves sneaking into competing in them (omg, heir, NO), loves WINNING them. She's a menace. She has various stealth coats of arms that she rotates between when she's not supposed to be competing, but her favorite is the battle goose. Obviously.

Eskel doesn't like crowds or being the center of attention, which are almost inevitable with public invitations, but he does enjoy being the +1 for his family. Several of his and their interests overlap, and even where they don't, he likes to see them enjoying themselves.

Yennifer becomes well-known as an extremely efficient - albeit terrifying - treaty negotiator. She'll talk to both sides, get a list of their must haves, deal-breakers, would-likes, and don't-wants (as well as - perhaps more importantly - the reason why each of those are on that particular list). Then she draws up a draft and viciously negotiates a compromise. She is genuinely surprised the first time that both sides thank her for her help.

Vesemir, with all his long years of teaching, loves visiting schools and seeing any sort of student performance or sporting event. Kindergarten to university, drama to music to dance recitals to track and field meets to football games to student symposiums to science contests to... He buys out bake sales and funds club field trips and donates several fortunes worth of antique knick knacks to various schools. He's invited as a guest lecturer, a commencement speaker, a competition judge, a referee.

Lambert and Aiden, at some point, discover bachelor's parties, call dibs, and never look back. People learn very quickly not to invite witchers to their stag nights unless they want the entire party to get horrifyingly drunk - but at least Lam and Aiden will make sure that everyone makes it home (or to the wedding) safely. Perhaps not soberly, or sans hangover, but definitely without major injury. (And if the bride asks nicely and the groom and friends weren't total jerks, Lambert can usually be counted on to make a hangover cure. He really is a softie at heart.)

Dragonfly and Serrit get tapped for the odd bachelorette party or ladies' birthday parties. Anything that falls under "I want to be able to drink and party with my friends without worrying about some strange guy hurting one of us." They are extremely protective and have both been drunkenly proposed to several times. (Livi finds this terribly amusing. Gweld just wants to know if he can watch.) Milena and Zofia sometimes go with them.

Milena loves going to wedding showers and baby showers, but outside Kaer Morhen, she has to stay in sight of Lambert or one of his brothers. Lambert's rule. (She got KIDNAPPED, okay? He's allowed to worry!) Usually she'll take Geralt (there might be babies! He's excellent protection!) or Eskel (he's very quiet and has excellent manners, and his signs are impossible to fight) for the more, ah, female-heavy events. If anyone asks, they're her brother-in-law and genuinely like spending time around kids. And very, very married.

[kueble]

The Sweetest Thing

This was written for the @witchertrickortreat prompt: Fall.  It’s part of my Spider Plant AU.

Teen. Warnings: None. 1,600 words.

Jaskier/Eskel

---

The sun is shining brightly, but there’s a cool edge to the breeze, and Jaskier lets the cuffs of his oversized sweater slip over his hands.  Eskel must notice, because he reaches over and laces their fingers together, warming him up nicely.  Jaskier smiles at him, but manages to keep quiet and pretend to be listening to the lovely farm worker explaining the rules to the small group at the welcome stand.  He should probably pay attention, but that’s what he has Eskel for.

Once the speech ends, Eskel grabs one of the farm’s cloth tote bags and steers him towards the orchard.  The apple trees are lined up in neat little rows, each one marked with a sign declaring what type of apple they hold.  It looks so picturesque that Jaskier feels his chest tighten.  Who would have thought he’d be in the kind of relationship where he goes apple picking on a date?  Certainly not him.

“You’re here, but your mind is miles away.  Where’d I lose you?” Eskel interrupts him, and Jaskier offers a sheepish smile at him.

“Sorry, dear,” he says with a snort, “I’m actually thinking about how wonderful you are, but perhaps I should enjoy the time I’m spending with you instead?”

“Why not do both?  Feel free to compliment me while we pick,” Eskel tells him with a fond look.

“I just might,” Jaskier says before asking, “Why don’t you grow apples at the greenhouse?  It looks like this place does pretty decent business.”

“It sure does, but look at how massive it is!  We definitely don’t have the space to dedicate to an orchard.  Hell, we barely have space for everything Lambert wants to experiment with.  He’s always grafting something new in his free time.  We definitely wouldn’t even have room for Christmas trees come winter if we didn’t have so much land in the family.  Thankfully our dad lets us plant what we need,” Eskel explains.

“Ah, yes.  You’ll have to show off the family homestead someday.  Geralt makes it sound like it’s heaven on earth,” Jaskier says before realizing he probably shouldn’t invite himself to Eskel’s family home. Hanging out with his brothers occasionally is different than meeting his dad.

“It’s a rustic farmhouse in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with acres and acres of pine trees surrounding it.  Geralt just likes it so much because Vesemir lets him keep horses there,” Eskel points out.  “Trust me, it’s beautiful piece of property, but I’m way too accustomed to the comforts of civilization to pack up and move back home.  And uh, we’re actually invited for dinner this Saturday if you’d like?  I was going to try and find a way to sneak it into the conversation, but you’ve done me a huge favor here.”

“Oh, I’d love to!” Jaskier chirps, his excitement making Eskel’s cheeks darken.  He looks so handsome that Jaskier can’t help leaning over and pecking him on the cheek.  It’s over way too fast, and then they’re off picking.

They start off in a row of Empire apples, which Eskel mentions are great for baking.   Jaskier accuses him of keeping his hidden baking skills secret, but Eskel just shoots him a sly smile and offers to teach him how to bake a pie.  It’s easy banter, just light conversation as they work on picking the best looking apples.  Still, Jaskier feels pleasantly warm all over, and it’s definitely not the autumn sun heating him up.

—

They pick in silence for a bit, their tote bag half full in no time at all. That’s when Jaskier spots what has to be the prettiest apple he has ever seen.  It’s bright red with a couple patches of green, and it’s roughly the size of his fist.  He simply has to have it.  Sadly, he can’t reach it, even on his tip-toes.  He looks forlornly back at the ladders stacked next to the welcome stand, but they’ve wandered off quite a lot and they seem ridiculously far away.

“What’s wrong?” Eskel asks, tilting his head like a confused puppy while Jaskier pouts at him.

“I want that one,” he explains with a sigh, and Eskel reaches up, only for his fingers to barely touch the bottom of the apple.

“Let me help,” Eskel says, leaning over and motioning for Jaskier to climb on his shoulders.

“Eskel, dear, I’m six two.  If I can’t reach it, perhaps it’s not meant to be picked,” Jaskier says with a laugh.

“Well what if it’s the most delicious apple you’ve ever tasted?  What then?” Eskel argues, and Jaskier just rolls his eyes before stepping behind him.  It takes a bit of work and is ridiculously awkward, but somehow he manages to get himself on Eskel’s shoulders.

“Fuck, you’re strong,” Jaskier mumbles, slightly in awe of the behemoth of a man beneath him.  He looks down with wide eyes to find Eskel beaming up at him, his scarred lip pulling to show even more teeth than normal.

He’s absolutely gorgeous, and Jaskier still can’t believe he gets to call him his.

Jaskier nearly falls while getting down, and the two of them end up clinging to each other, laughing, with the prized apple clutched between them.   Making a show of wiping it on Eskel’s sweater, he offers his boyfriend a smirk before biting into the large apple.  The flavor is a perfect blend of sweet and tart, and Jaskier moans softly as the juices burst across his tongue.

He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but when he opens them, Eskel is grinning at him with heat in his gaze.  Instead of saying anything, he holds the apple up to his mouth, watching as Eskel takes a loud bite.  His eyelids flutter closed as he offers his own soft moan, and Jaskier has never felt so justified.

“That'll teach you not to mock me before you try it,” he says, but Eskel isn’t paying any attention to him, already grabbing for the apple again.  “Oh no you don’t! I worked hard for this!” he cries out, but Eskel just laughs before chasing him around the trunk of the tree.  He pins him up against it, bracketing Jaskier’s body with his own.

“Then you best stop teasing before we get thrown out of here for being indecent,” Eskel mutters, but he looks so pleased that Jaskier knows he isn’t upset.

“I’d say it would be worth it, but they’ll have to pry this apple from my cold dead hands, so let’s leave some space for Jesus between us and finish picking, yeah?" Jaskier asks.  Eskel snorts in response, but backs up and looks around for their abandoned tote bag.   Once he finds it, he holds out a hand for Jaskier, who happily slides his own into it, squeezing lightly as they move on.

If anyone sees their little display, no one calls them on it.

—

It takes them the better part of an hour - Jaskier will only let the very best apples into their tote - but eventually their bag is full.  Jaskier spends a ridiculous amount of time trying not to focus on how holding the overflowing bag makes the muscles on Eskel’s forearms strain.  His green and purple succulent tattoo is already enough to draw Jaskier’s eyes, and this is almost too much.

“You’re spacing out again,” Eskel says, snorting when Jaskier trips over his own feet in his effort to look normal.

“Sorry, I can’t help being easily flustered when my boyfriend is so hot,” he says with a giggle.  Eskel rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth definitely twitch.

“Well good thing we’re done,” Eskel comments, his voice darkening, “all we have to do is weigh and pay for these, and then I can take you home and fluster you up some more.”

“I like the way you think.”

They make their way up the small hill and away from the orchard.  There aren’t many people in line, but they have to wait long enough for Jaskier to get distracted by all the extra little goodies the farm sells.  He debates whether or not he needs some local honey, but what really draws his eye is the hypnotic spin of the cider slushie machine.

“Go grab me a couple bottles of hard cider, and I’ll order you a slushie,” Eskel tells him softly, breaking him out of his thoughts.

“That obvious, huh?” he asks a bit sheepishly.

“You’re practically drooling, babe,” Eskel tells him, and Jaskier feels himself go warm at the nickname.  He never thought he’d be into sweet little endearments like that, but apparently he really really is.  He can tell Eskel notices his blush by the twinkle in his eyes.  Ignoring it, Jaskier wanders into the little shop and over towards the cooler full of hard cider.  There are way too many flavors to choose from, but he settles on an original and a tart cherry that he thinks Eskel will appreciate.

Once he returns to the line, Eskel nods approvingly at his choices and hands him an iced cold cider slushie.  The first sip is nearly sweet enough to knock him over, and he must make a face, because Eskel chuckles at him.

“It’s sweet, try it,” Jaskier says, holding out the red and white striped paper straw.

“Nah, the only sweet thing I need is you,” Eskel mutters, and Jaskier feels like his face is burning up.  Somehow he manages to keep it together long enough for them to finish paying, and they head back to Eskel’s truck, chilly hands tightly clasped together.  They load up the truck and Jaskier leans over to kiss Eskel once they climb inside.  It’s short, just a soft press of lips, but it still makes his toes curl.   They hold hands the whole way home, their hands resting on the beat up bench seat of the truck.

It’s pretty much the perfect fall day.

---

Tags: @halerune @mayastormborn @dani-dandelino @jaskierswolf @littoraly-art @tothedesert @dapandapod @theweirdlynx @tedrakitty @sharinalein @theamazingdevilgivesmehope @iamaqt314 @silvermintnightprincess @rockysstupidity @live-long-and-trek-on @hayleynzlive @holymotherwolf @thesynysterunknown @rebard-main @larawrmonster @gryffinqueen-blog @lovelyscot @fangirleaconmigo @mothmanismyuncle @fontegagrilledcheese @thestarkwinter @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @allthequeenshorses13 @221birl1823 @strippiluolamies @concussed-dragon @aurelia-which-means-sunrise @clarebear66 @feral-jaskier @j-u-s-tmyself  @thisislisa @firefly-party @officerjennie @theshapeofcool @flawney

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[proheromidoriyashouto]

witcher modern au where witchers have to put those colorful claw caps over their toe nails so they don't tear their work boots, floors and carpets, and blankets up by walking or instinct based kneading and they all absolutely hate it.

its their version of humans not wanting to touch their eyes even for medical reasons. melitele forbid they need to trim a hangnail or treatment for archspore fungus under their nails.

they will Ignore The Problem. this infection is for the job. i have too many toes anyway. i will just buy news boots more often. i did not stub my toe on the coffee table and start to cry. i am a Powerful Mutant.

Jaskier is sneaking the caps on Geralt when he's in a post-hunt potions crashnap. Ciri gets Geralt to trim them during 'spa day' pretend play because he can't deny his precious daughter anything, but always escapes before she can even glance at the glue because its so smelly, so Jaskier takes his turn to strike in the wee morning hours. (these ofieri rugs were a gift from the prince, geralt! you animal!)

Aiden is a fastidious groomer and forces himself into a salon chair because the smell of neglect is especially foul for a witcher and getting ahead of problems makes for an easier existence, but he's also not a complete degenerate like some Cats--read: Gaetan.

Lambert "happily" goes along with Aiden because he wants to make a good impression, and he likes to think he is the smartest of his brothers which would make destroying things he pays money for in a gig economy monumentally stupid, but his inner wolf is howling with misery the songs of his people the entire time a stranger is putting their hands on his pawsfeet. Aiden knows how much of a brave face he's actually putting on for his sake so rewards Lambert accordingly at home. (they have so many in-tact kneading blankets the other Cats think Something Is Up when they poke around)

Eskel grits his teeth and does the work himself often enough he doesn't have to wear the nail caps. The glue stench is overwhelmingly bad even after its cured, he can't imagine how Geralt's twice-mutated nose handles it. (he doesn't know Geralt doesn't do it himself and has to be "dog medicine pill wrapped in cheese and ham"-ed about it until after Jaskier goes an a rant after a particular tiff they've had. Eskel never lets Pretty Boy live it down.) People already don't like his face, the last thing he needs is people assuming he's as much a beast as they think witchers are by neglecting basic hygiene and the state of one's home.

Vesemir is an old dog of a witcher living in his mountain keep. He doesn't bother with that city-slicker nonsense and walks around barefoot. He only wears boots for jobs which he doesn't do much anymore, and if they rip, well, he can blame a monster. The floors of the keep were built with hard stone they'd be pressed to scatch if they tried so whats it matter. Until an old flame, the dignified and ever as lovely Countess Mignole, buys a home at the base of the mountain and suddenly it matters so much to be presentable. It is difficult to be a charming old man when your feet smell of neglected archspore infection strongly enough a human can be offput by it and you don't have boots that might last a day walking through town with a woman on his arm. (the boys and Aiden have to hold him down as he fights like a dying bear while Jaskier and Eskel Do Something about his horrible old wolf paws.) in the end, Mignole finds the assorted colors of the nail caps very charming indeed. Vesemir complains about it for the rest of his days when she's visiting the grandchildren out of town.

[lambden]

another 'cliche' prompt fill! Ledgea requested some Lambert/Aiden shenanigans and I love them so I had to oblige! <3

42. I’m going to save you from the terrible date you’re having T, 1.3K, modern AU, misunderstandings

“I feel like we never talk anymore,” Lambert grouses, leaning back in his seat. The night is winding down to its inevitable conclusion, as all nights must, and the late hour is making him bolder than usual. “I mean, you used to keep me updated on all your drama.”

Without properly glancing up from his cell phone, Geralt mumbles, “I have no drama.”

“Now I know that’s a fucking lie.” His glass of merlot is running low, but their server has been tending to a busy party on the other side of the restaurant and Lambert isn’t in a hurry to hunt him down. There’s another server that’s been watching him all night, and Lambert would be lying if he said he wasn’t returning the looks. The man’s wavy hair is nothing compared to Lambert’s curls but he’s tied it up in a small bun, and the few strands still hanging around his temples draw attention to his beautiful, sharp smile. He tilts his head inquisitively and Lambert nods gratefully, draining the rest of his wine and setting the glass down. “What about darling Yen?”

“Off with someone else,” Geralt shrugs. “Named… Frin… Fran… Frin-fran-something.”

“Well, you don’t seem too bothered. Then, what about Triss?”

“Haven’t talked to her in a while.” The man squints at his phone, fully ignoring Lambert.

“Fine. Then what about your musician friend?” The server who’s been making eyes at him brings over a glass and a new bottle— he must have sprinted to the bar to retrieve it. Lambert straightens up, grinning. “Thanks.”

“Of course,” the server smiles back, flashing those bright teeth again. Lambert wants very much to invite him into the back alley, or the staff washroom, or perhaps if they’re really pressed for a location the walk-in freezer. But he isn’t so rude as to flirt with someone while they’re stuck working, so he just nods and lets the man pour.

Finally looking up from his screen, Geralt raises a judgemental eyebrow. “Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” The server sucks in a quick breath but remains silent, hands steady as he pours Lambert’s glass. “You’re the one paying for all this, you know.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Lambert rolls his eyes. There’s a time-honoured tradition of swapping who pays for the bill every time they all go out— a tradition that Eskel always breaks by trying his hardest to sneak his credit card to the till before anyone else can. But their third brother isn’t here tonight, and unfortunately, it’s Lambert’s turn. “Don’t avoid the question. What’s going on between you and Jaskier?”

“Nothing,” growls Geralt, but his gaze reveals more than he wants to let on as he glances, lightning-quick, at his phone.

“I knew it,” Lambert crows. “You’ve been texting him all night!”

“No. I’ve been thinking about buying a new horse.”

Knowing Geralt, either option could be true. Lambert scoffs anyway, taking a sip of his new glass of wine. “Oh, that is phenomenal,” he exhales, leaning back in his seat and undoing the top button of his shirt. “What year is this?”

“Don’t act like you know a thing about wine,” Geralt teases. Out of the entire family he’s the one closest to a sommelier; after all, he does own shares in an actual vineyard. Lambert rolls his eyes anyway— Geralt might be right, but he doesn’t have to be a dick about it. “And keep your clothes on, we’re in public!”

Just then, the server accidentally knocks a glass of water onto Geralt’s lap. “Shit,” he blurts out, hurriedly putting the bottle down and reaching to unroll some folded napkins. “I’m so sorry! Are you alright?”

“I’m just fine,” Geralt reassures him, a little coolly. Lambert nearly winces at the tone— he knows that his brother doesn’t mean to come off like that, but it’s hard to deal with it sometimes anyway. Geralt climbs out of his seat, grimacing at the large wet stain on his pants. “I’m going to go dry off in the bathroom. Don’t run off and leave me with the tab, you mooch.”

“Ha-ha,” Lambert deadpans, picking up his wine and taking another sip. He expects to have some free time to rifle through his social media, maybe send a text to Eskel about how they missed him tonight. But nearly as soon as Geralt has vacated his seat, the gorgeous server with the bun slides into it, frowning softly. “Oh, uh, it’s alright, really. I’m sure he isn’t mad.”

“I don’t care if he’s mad,” says the angel in waiter’s clothing. His dark eyes are intensely focused on Lambert, and his thick eyebrows drawn together only adds to his concern. “Listen, alright? That guy’s an asshole. You deserve better.”

Lambert gapes.

“I’m sorry, I know this is extremely not my place, but…” The man glances in the direction of the bathroom nervously before reaching across the table to offer Lambert his palm. Lambert, bewildered and delighted, accepts it. The man’s grip is warm and dry, and his broad fingers instantly send Lambert’s pulse racing. “I had to do something to save you from this terrible date you’re having.”

“Oh,” bleats Lambert.

“You don’t have to put up with bullshit like that,” the man tells him, dead serious. His earnest, compassionate worry is nearly too much to handle when paired with his perfect smile and eyes. “You say the word and I’ll kick him out of here, alright? And don’t worry about having to foot the bill. I’d gladly cover you. Or poison him. Just say the word.”

“Oh, fuck,” he groans. “You’re sort of a maniac, aren’t you? This is really, really bad for me— you’re already completely my type. You can’t be this gorgeous and unhinged, it isn’t fair!” Mr. Gorgeous And Unhinged smiles, flashing those pearly whites again, and Lambert’s heart quakes. “What’s your name? You know, so I can tell the necessary authorities?”

“Aiden.” He’s even got a hot name! Lambert is going to need to dump cold water onto his own lap very soon. “And you are?”

“In trouble, I think,” Lambert sighs. He tugs his hand away from Aiden, shaking his head. “I’m Lambert, and the asshole you dumped water on is Geralt.”

“I’m serious,” Aiden insists. “Well, not about the poisoning, maybe, but you don’t have to put up with that kind of treatment. If he doesn’t treat you with the respect you deserve, then why waste your time dating him?”

“You make a valid point,” replies Lambert, as seriously as he can manage. Then he spies Geralt making his way back to the table, and throws a warning look in Aiden’s direction. “Don’t look now, but he’s coming back.”

“Just think about what I said,” Aiden quickly says, jumping to his feet. Geralt frowns slightly, probably confused about the clumsy server who took up residence in his seat. “Sorry, I was just getting to know Lambert here!”

“Alright,” Geralt replies mildly. Now that Lambert knows about his dislike for the man, he can practically see Aiden’s shoulders bristling— and it’s fucking hilarious.

But then Aiden turns to leave, shooting Lambert one last parting look of sorrow over his shoulder, and Lambert just can’t let the most hilarious misunderstanding of his life go undiscovered. He also can’t let someone so perfectly insane leave without a second chance, so he blurts out, “Wait, let me— let me introduce you two! Um, Geralt, this is Aiden. He’s quite… passionate.”

Geralt shoots Lambert a glare that very clearly spells out you disgusting little man, did you hook up with a waiter while I was in the bathroom for three minutes tops. Then he nods to Aiden, smile slightly pursed at the corners. But it’s likely the best they’re going to get.

“And Aiden, this is Geralt,” Lambert tells him slowly, lining up the kill shot. He inhales. “My brother.”

After a very pregnant pause, Aiden says, quietly but with great feeling, “Fuck.”

[mollymawkwrites]

Eskel/Jaskier: AU where Jaskier met Eskel instead of Geralt and wrote Toss a Coin for him instead - scar kissing/appreciation - "guess love is a response/of the body it haunts"

This took me longer to write than I would have wanted, so thank you for waiting! This is... pure fluff. Hope it’s worth the wait, thank you for the lovely prompt!

CW: mildly horny towards the end, but otherwise it’s only fluff!

"I love the way you just sit in the corner and brood."

Eskel raises his head from where he’s been staring at his spit flavoured ale to meet a pair of twinkling blue eyes.

The bardling can't be more than eighteen, fresh-faced and smelling of arousal as he looks at the Witcher appraisingly. Eskel expects him to recoil at the sight of his scars in the low tavern light, but the bard's eyes only widen with interest, and he slides into the opposite empty seat, leaning his lute against the table.

"Oooh, you're a Witcher, aren't you?" He asks with barely restrained excitement. "I could tell from the other side of the room you were filled with stories. How about I buy you an ale, and you tell me some of them?"

Eskel snorts. "And how are you planning to pay for that ale? Stale bread?" He nods towards the bulges where the bard stuffed the food thrown at him after his less than appreciated performance.

"Well, no," the man deflates, but not for long, his carefree smile returning along a flirty wink, "but I'm sure we can find an arrangement."

The Witcher rises from his seat, leaving his untouched ale and a couple of coins on the table. "I do not bed teenagers."

That earns him an offended splutter from the bard, who doesn't take the hint and follows him through the tavern. "I'm not… I can assure you that I am a man. An adult man." His voice breaks a little on the last syllable and Eskel smirks.

"Want to try that again?" He asks, but before the bard has a chance to reply, a man interrupts them. There is fear in his voice when he asks for Eskel's help with a so-called devil haunting his fields, and the way his eyes keep going back to the Witcher's scars shouldn't make Eskel so uncomfortable, but it does. He still accepts the job.

*

After the whole debacle with the elves, Jaskier follows Eskel back to the inn, strumming his lute with a spring in his step despite the bruise on his forehead and the tears in his doublet. Eskel informs the man who hired him of his deal with the elves, collects his meagre pay, and immediately spends half of it for a warm meal. He sits in the same corner as this morning, and forgets all about the whole ordeal for the time it takes to fill his stomach.

His peace is temporary, as Jaskier takes back his place in the middle of the room, undeterred by his earlier flop, and starts strumming the same melody he’s been composing on their way back to Posada. And then he starts singing.

The song is… embarrassing. Jaskier doesn’t pay attention to the first hollers and insults from the patrons who recognize him, his eyes rarely leaving Eskel, who sits still, mortified, as he discovers the lyrics at the same time as everyone else.

By the end, the complaints have turned to cheers and stomping, and Jaskier’s cheeks are ruddy with exertion. He accepts to play the song a second time, then follows with popular jigs and bawdy tales that have the drunks singing and the others getting drunker. His attention strays from Eskel, though he still spares him smiles and winks when he happens to pass by his table.

Eskel should leave, he knows. The sun will go down soon, and he still has to find a place to set up camp. But he’s stuck to the bench, people throwing coins at him, clapping him in the back. The bartender even slides a free ale in front of him, with a grateful though reluctant nod. It doesn’t even smell of spit.

A warmth spreads in his chest that has nothing to do with the alcohol, and it only flares brighter every time Jaskier sends a smile his way. It takes him a while to identify this emotion, practised as he is at ignoring them. It’s gratefulness. Not for the people thanking him for ridding them of the elves, though that is a nice change. No, he is the one being grateful for the bard who met an old, grumpy Witcher and decided to see a hero worthy of ballads instead.

Eskel knows the bard benefits from it too, his pockets clinking with coin, knows the friendliness of the villagers will only last as long as alcohol fogs their stereotypes and superstitions, but he can’t help but revel in it, hoarding warmth and comfort as much as he can before he goes back to the cold loneliness of the Path.

Just after the sun sets, but long before the impromptu party is over, Eskel slinks outside, stomach full, a little tipsy on ale and joy. He doesn’t want to wait until alcohol makes the mean ones meaner and pushes them to try starting a fight with him. The bard has earned his success, Eskel won’t be the one to ruin it. He meets Scorpion on the outskirts of the city, caresses his velvety nose as the horse sniffs at his pockets for some treats.

“That was a good day, boy,” the Witcher tells his horse. “We shouldn’t get used to it, though. That’s how you get disappointed.”

Traveling with a human is a change Eskel struggles to adapt to, though it is admittedly nice. The boy is a smart one, cultured and quick-witted, but he doesn't know anything about life. His noble upbringing quickly becomes obvious to Eskel, the lack of basic knowledge like making a fire or cooking food revealing themselves on the first evening of their acquaintance. Eskel doesn't mind teaching the boy. It seems like the thing to do to thank the bard for the song, and for the company. 

Before he finds himself maudlin longer, Eskel swings a leg over the saddle, and directs Scorpion to the South. Rapid footsteps echo behind him, and he turns to find the bard running in his direction, lute banging on his back and pockets heavy with the night’s earnings. The warmth that had bloomed in Eskel’s chest in the tavern buries itself deeper.

*

He doesn't expect the boy to stay long, maybe a week or two, until he's tired of sore feets and sleeping on hard ground, or he finds another "muse*, like he insists on calling Eskel.

But he stays, following Eskel everywhere, unless the Witcher insists he stays back at camp while he goes on a dangerous hunt, or he finds something of interest in a town they go through and decides to stay a couple more days. He always catches up, though, finding Eskel in whatever clearing he's set up camp and sitting at his side like they've never parted. It's nice, Eskel admits to himself. To have someone to talk to, about everything from music and art to monsters and magic. He finds himself brooding less and less, his mind focused on the colourful bard chatting next to him rather than on his own dark thoughts.

It comes slowly, he thinks, it buries itself under his skin, filling his every crevice without him noticing, but it's like falling from the edge of a cliff when he finally realises: he's happy.

He's been happy for a while. Since the ridiculous, optimistic, flirty bard entered his life.

He thinks about running, leaving Jaskier behind, before the inevitable happens and Eskel is left with a heart emptier than it was before. He could survive the loneliness when he had nothing else to compare it to; he's not sure he can go back to it now.

But he's not like his brothers, running from his feelings or translating all of them into anger. He takes the time to think about it, and decides that he'll take the risk. Jaskier doesn't look or smell like he has any intention of leaving Eskel's side for the moment, and Eskel has no intention of letting anything happen to the bard.

So he stays, and gets used to the company. It's surprisingly easy.

*

Winter is close, and Eskel finds himself feeling maudlin. Soon, Jaskier will head towards Oxenfurt to spend the season in warm lodgings, between some pretty girl's thighs, and wait for the sun to come back. Eskel will depart for Kaer Morhen, if he wants to get to the pass before it gets snowed in.

They've talked about it, and agreed to meet in the spring, but it doesn't keep Eskel from wishing they could stay together. He won't keep Jaskier from his plans, though, the bard sounding happy every time he mentions the friends he has at the Academy and his favourite inns to play at, where everyone, even the lowest drunkard, knows how to appreciate good music and poetry. 

He shouldn't ask for more, he knows. The bard already gives him so much; his friendship and his songs and his smiles.

The day before they part, they pay for a room in an inn close to the crossroad where they’ll have to say goodbye to each other, and Eskel spends the afternoon knees deep in murky water to rid the local pond of a particularly aggressive bloedzuiger. It’s not dangerous, just long and damp, and his already foul mood sours even more. Back at the inn, Eskel leaves muddy puddles on the way to their room.

Jaskier hasn’t moved from the bed, where he is writing down his latest composition in the leather bound notebook that never leaves his side, along with his lute. He raises his eyes as Eskel enters the room, nose scrunching up at the Witcher’s state.

“I asked for a bath,” Eskel grumbles, unbuckling his armour and putting it close to the crackling fireplace to dry.

“Oh, good,” Jaskier chuckles. “Everything suits you, my dear, but I can’t say I like the smell of dead fish on you.”

Eskel snorts, but doesn’t reply, as the innkeeper’s daughter knocks on the door and sets to filling a modest tub with tepid water. He thanks her, and waits for her to close the door behind herself before undressing completely and stepping into the bath. It’s not Kaer Morhen’s hot springs, but it does soothe the ache in his bones that always settles when it gets cold. He sighs, relaxing after the frustrating contract, and doesn’t notice Jaskier has moved until he’s right behind him.

It should unsettle him that the bard can sneak up on his Witcher senses, but it has become a recurring occurrence, and Eskel doesn’t mind it so much. He likes being able to lower his guard with someone who’s not his brothers or Vesemir.

Nimble fingers thread in his hair, and he suppresses a shudder at the pleasant sensation. “What are you doing?” he asks without opening his eyes.

“Helping you clean that mess,” Jaskier replies in a low voice, almost a murmur.

Eskel hums, not seeing a reason to refuse the offer. The bard’s fingers on his scalp feel divine, and a purr builds in his chest as he slowly melts into a puddle. “That feels nice.”

Jaskier doesn’t reply, but he doesn’t stop either, even when he’s done with Eskel’s hair. His hands trail down to the Witcher’s neck and shoulders, digging into the muscles there with both strength and care. Eskel’s hard prick bobs in the water, but he doesn’t do anything about it. He knows the bard would accept enthusiastically if Eskel were to proposition him; he hasn’t stopped smelling of lust and ogling Eskel even after all these months, but that’s not what the Witcher wants at the moment.

The hands on his shoulders have traded their massage for featherlight caresses, trailing down old scar tissue and up again, teasing and tickling the sensitive skin. Touch purely for touch’s sake. Eskel hums again and Jaskier chuckles, a puff of air brushing the damp skin of Eskel’s neck. “What are you thinking about?”

“Come with me to Kaer Morhen,” the Witcher says before he has time to talk himself out of it.

The silence that follows is short but Eskel has the time to regret everything that has led him to that moment, until a pair of soft lips caresses the curve of his shoulder, where a werewolf bit out a chunk of flesh thirty years ago and left only a jagged silver scar. Jaskier follows it from one end of the half-moon to the other, then breathes against Eskel’s skin, “I’d be honoured.”

And the warmth in Eskel’s chest makes itself a home there.

[fangirleaconmigo]

Descarada's Masterpost

You can call me Des or Bex, either one. I write witcher fic and meta. I multiship. You can see almost any ship cross the dash if you wait long enough.

I rb any and all Witcher canons (shows/books/games/give me a post about the musical and I’ll rb that too).

JOIN MY FREE NEWSLETTER for updates on my writing and to get it all first.

Meta Posts:

Geralt x Jaskier in the books masterpost (I Can't Believe it's Not Fanon series)

Should You Read the Witcher Books?

Social commentary in the witcher (race, class, gender, sexuality in the witcher books)

Abortion in The Witcher Books

How Witchers Subvert Blue Collar Stereotypes

my tagged posts on the witcher books

Characters profiles:

Geralt of Rivia masterpost

Yennefer of Vengerberg tag

Dandelion (Jaskier) tag

Ciri tag

Eskel

Milva

Aiden

Valdo Marx

Fics:

WORKS IN PROGRESS

I Will Bring You Ruin Masterpost (Prince!Jaskier x Gladiator/Bedwarmer Geralt AU)

Posada Remix (WIP) Explicit. (Geraskier) Book!Geralt falls through a portal in Netflix land and meets Jaskier in Posada. Spoiler alert: he loves him. 

Keep Me Forever (WIP) Explicit. (Jaskier/Eskel -> poly witchers) Eskel has fallen hard for a sex worker named Dandelion. He brings his new love to Kaer Morhen for the winter.  Will Dandelion be able to thaw the frosty reception he receives from Geralt and Lambert? Spoiler alert: you’d better believe he can.

COMPLETED WORKS

Refuge in Lettenhove. (Geraskier, explicit, 65,556 words) It takes losing Jaskier for Geralt to understand that he loves him, but he thinks he has little hope of making amends. He has lost track of Jaskier and is on the run, protecting Ciri from Nilfgaard. Exhausted, afraid, and wounded, they seek refuge in the court of an unknown noble/resistance leader. When this leader turns out to be Julian Alfred Pankratz, Geralt thinks that maybe there is such a thing as second chances. However, his Lordship is acting as though he’s never seen Geralt before in his life.

Roses are Red (Geraskier, Rated Teen. 1,759) Soft drunk Geralt makes first love confession. He also composes a terrible poem for a very confused Jaskier. In Vino Veritas.

Offerings (Geraskier, Rated Teen. 2683) Secondary Title: Was Anybody Going to Tell Me That Geralt was Courting Me? Or Was I Just Supposed to Find it Out From This Random Herbalist Myself? Geralt has been gifting Jaskier with random bits of herbs and twigs. He isn't going to question it. In fact, he starts hoarding them, as embarrassing as that is. Then one day, he visits an herbalists and finds out that these herbs mean a whole lot more than he realized.

Two Drops of Water (Geralt/Eskel, Explicit, 3,536) Eskel has injured himself, and Geralt must help him undress. It brings up memories of their first kiss, and they learn a few new things about each other.

Cherries (Jaskier/Eskel, Rated Teen, 4495) Modern AU with magic. The witchers own a dive diner as a front. Despite their best efforts at making it inhospitable, a young socialite named Jaskier is obsessed with the place. (Probably bc Eskel keeps sneaking him extra cherries on his waffles)

I Lied (Geraskier, Explicit. 4,854) Geralt learns that Jaskier sleeps with men. Oddly enough he gets angry. Jaskier thinks Geralt is judging him. But maybe the issue is something else entirely. Hmmm I wonder what it could be? This is just funny miscommunication, different love languages, moronsexuals, then smut.

The Song of Geralt (Geraskier, Explicit, 5,012 words) The vibe in this fic is inspired by The Song of Achilles, so it is written in the first person. I know. Just try it I promise. Geralt has taken potions to suppress his sex drive since he was a child. (In this AU, they require witchers to do this.) However, one night, he gets the wrong potion and is suddenly, desperately, painfully aroused for the first time in his life. Jaskier can help with that. This one is yearning and soft and if I did my job well, achingly tender.

Marbles (Geraskier, Explicit, 5608 words) Geralt is hexed with a curse that takes his memories. One day, he runs into someone that he suspects is very important to him.

It's Hard to Be The Bard (Eskel x Jaskier, Teen and up, 7203 words) Fame is complicated in a world with soulmate marks. Some of Jaskier's more aggressive fans have found ways to exploit his soulmate marks to get a piece of him. Eskel walks into a tavern one night, and Jaskier mistakes him for one of them.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/33844378/chapters/84143392

I Know The Kindest Thing (Lambert x Jaskier x Geralt x Eskel, Mature, 8,112 words) Vampire AU. Lambert lures a human back to the mansion he shares with Geralt and Eskel. But it turns out that the human bard he brings back is too ill and scrawny to feed from. They decide to 'rescue' him instead. Sexy shenanigans and found family ensues.

Paying Attention (Geraskier, Explicit. 10,887) This is a sweet friends to lovers. Jaskier is feral and loving. He gives Geralt a tender, sexy, first experience bottoming.

It’s a Trap (Geraskier, Rated Teen, 11,092) Jaskier is a professor at Oxenfurt and enjoys a reputation as the continent’s foremost expert on witchers. Geralt believes he is being plagued by a curse, and asks for his help. When Jaskier visits the grumpy witcher's home and meets his daughter Ciri, the pieces fall together. He is instantly charmed by the devoted father, and resolves to court him.

Uncommon. (Jaskier/Eskel, Explicit, 11,185) When Eskel meets Dandelion, the gorgeous sex worker willing to service him, it seems too good to be true. Dandelion does have a secret, but it’s not what Eskel thinks. There is the inappropriate use of axii, but think of it as a trust exercise. Consent is explicit and enthusiastic.

Eskel is Magic. (Jaskier/Eskel, Explicit, 11,218) Jaskier’s assignment on his first day as a scribe is to copy the anti-witcher hate tract Monstrum. He’s never met a witcher, but the words bother him. Just before the pamphlets are to be distributed, he comes upon a witcher with a goat, who needs his help. As you might imagine, this changes everything.

The Real Me (Jaskier/Eskel, Explicit, 41,420) This work is a continuation of Uncommon. Eskel returns to the brothel to accompany Dandelion on a visit to Kaer Morhen. But it's a long road ahead, and Eskel has only seen Dandelion at his best. Dandelion worries that if Eskel sees the feral petty little shit he is inside, the witcher won't feel the same. Will their infatuation grow into love? Or will it sputter out before Dandelion can darken the door of the old keep?

You Have Until Midnight (Jaskier/Eskel, Explicit, 62,970) Cinderella- esque fairytale AU. Jaskier works in the Kaer Morhen stables and pines for Eskel. There is a masquerade approaching where Eskel will choose a spouse. Jaskier knows he cannot attend as a guest and would never be accepted as an appropriate match for the witcher. But then he is faced with an unexpected opportunity. One lovely night. One dance. That’s not too much to ask, right?

The RockRose and the Thistle (Geraskier, Explicit, 60,722) After the mountain, Geralt finds Jaskier to apologize.  But an apology isn’t going to be enough. Geralt is going to have to be open and honest about what he feels. 

As he’s figuring out how to do that, he takes a job to kill a bruxa. What he doesn’t know is that it’s a trap. He’s fallen into the clutches of a king who wants to kill him to harvest witcher parts.  Jaskier learns of the deception and has to race against time to save the man he loves.

[pressedinthepages]

Crave

next fill for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

also big thanks to @major-trouble for beta-ing and @sometimesiwrite and @lookoutrogue for pointing me in the right direction and helping me along <3

(shhhhh @continentcakeshop i know its like the second one in as many days but its fineeeeeeee)

Prompt: Incubus/Succubus

Relationship: Eskel/Jaskier

Rating: Explicit

Content Warnings: modern au, bookshop au, Jaskier is an incubus, magical genitalia, intersex Jaskier, masturbation, oral sex (f receiving), m/m penetrative sex

Summary: Eskel runs into Jaskier and helps him with his 'research,' leading them closer and closer together.

The little bell over the door tinkled and Eskel peeked up from where he was emptying his stock cart. He couldn’t see who walked in, only the faintest glimpse of a lavender shirt disappearing around a corner, down into an aisle. Eskel shelved the last few novels before returning to the counter, sneaking his book out from its hiding spot and flipping to his bookmark. He didn’t even hear the approaching footsteps, engrossed as he was. But a soft clearing of the throat caught his attention and he startled up, his breath catching at the sight of the man before him.

The young man had on a soft-looking lavender jumper and his hair fell in chestnut waves over his forehead. His eyes were the clearest cornflower blue, and he sported just the barest beginnings of smiley wrinkles. His mouth moved in pretty pink words that tasted like spice drops on Eskel’s tongue, and-

Oh shit.

He asked me a question.

Eskel cleared his throat and blinked, shaking the blush off his cheeks. “S-sorry, what did you say?”

The man smiled, blinding white and cheeky. “No worries, I do talk a bit fast. I asked if you had any books on mythology, specifically succubi?”

Oh, and if that didn’t conjure up some ideas in the dark edges of Eskel’s brain. He prided himself on being a gentleman, but he’d be lying if he said that the very basest part of his mind didn’t imagine the young man laid out beneath him, his honey-laced voice crying his name while lust poured from their very pores.

Eskel glanced around the empty storefront as he walked around the counter, crooking his finger to the man to follow him. “Don’t have much, at least here in the store. But I’ve got one or two.”

“Lovely,” the man said with a smirk, and Eskel could’ve sworn he felt the tracks of his eyes down the line of his back and over the swell of his ass as they went to the last aisle of fiction. He bent down and pulled out two books.

“Here, this one’s not too dense, and is good for the basics. But…” he trailed off and looked over his shoulder, catching the man’s eyes glance back up to him, “this one is good for more in-depth research, without gettin’ too murky.”

Eskel watched the bob of the man’s throat as he swallowed thickly, taking the books from his hands. “Sold. Thank you, Eskel.”

Eskel blinked and racked his brain. I swear I don’t know him, I’d remember his face, his eyes, his voice, his bum-

The man chuckled lightly, “Your nametag. Must say, I was cheating a bit. Call me Jaskier.”

Eskel’s cheeks pulled up into an easy smile. The next words fell from his lips almost too easily, forgetting himself and his scars on and under his skin and who he even was under Jaskier’s intense gaze. “Well, just when might I call you, Jaskier?”

Jaskier (thank fuck) blushed and bit his bottom lip with a grin that set Eskel’s already pounding heart alight. They walked slowly back towards the front of the bookstore to the register. “Well, I should think I’ll come back ‘round soon to see if you...get anything new in stock?”

Eskel nodded as he stepped behind the counter, taking the two books back and scanning their black and white barcodes. He discreetly threw on his brother’s phone number for a discount and slid the books across to Jaskier. “I’m sure we’ll find something.”

“Oh,” said Jaskier as he handed over his cash and his fingers just barely glanced over Eskel’s, sending sparks beneath his skin, “I think we already have.”

---

“Back already?” It was the next day, just shy of when Eskel was going to lock up for a quick lunch. Jaskier had blown in through the door with a bright smile on his face, and Eskel would’ve been lying if he said that his heart hadn’t skipped a beat when he recognized him.

Jaskier nodded and leaned his elbows on the edge of the counter. “Mhm. I read both of those books last night, they were fantastic. But I was wondering if you could maybe help me order one or two more? If you have time, that is?”

“Of course,” Eskel said, gesturing to Jaskier to walk around the edge of the counter and join him at the monitor. “Here, we can look through what we carry and can order.”

They scrolled through the website for what was available, narrowing and adjusting their search parameters for a while before finding some interesting titles. “Oooh,” murmured Jaskier, bumping lightly into Eskel’s arm and pointing at one of the books on the screen, “that one looks helpful.”

It was a leather bound tome entitled ‘Succubi and Incubi in the Modern World,’ by one J. A. Pankratz. It seemed almost a little too perfect for what Jaskier had been looking for, and Eskel hoped that by ordering this one book, he wouldn’t have been driving Jaskier from coming back into his store. He added two copies to the cart and placed the order. He’d save one for Jaskier, and he would take one home for himself. Looks pretty interesting.

---

The books had arrived early in the morning, and Eskel called Jaskier to let him know that he could pop in and pick it up at his convenience. Jaskier had stopped by in the evening, thanking him endlessly before swooping away as Eskel locked up.

Eskel briskly walked home with the leather-bound book weighing heavily in his pack, tempting him to just break it open with every step down the sidewalk. As soon as he got into his flat, he tossed the keys to the side and toed off his boots, making a beeline for his dresser. He changed out of his smart button-down and jeans and into a comfy jumper and a pair of dark sweatpants.

He put on the kettle and unpacked his bag, throwing the empty tupperware from his lunch into the sink and setting the book onto the side table by his armchair. Yes, the bookseller had a reading nook. Don’t judge. He pulled the kettle off just before it started to whistle and made his cup of tea, leaving it to steep for a moment while he washed the few dishes that had found their way into the sink.

Puttering over to his cushy chair with tea in hand, Eskel sighed. He sat down and nestled himself into a comfortable spot, one foot tucked under him and his elbow resting on the velvety arm of the chair. Air whistled through the notch in his lip when he lightly blew the curls of steam away from his mug before taking a sip, letting the warm tea drag down his throat and settle in his stomach.

He set his mug down atop a coaster and ran his hand slowly along the strikingly plain cover of the novel. It was a deep mahogany leather bound tome with golden embossed lettering, and it even boasted a little light blue ribbon to keep his page. The spine crackled as he tipped open the cover, revealing thick ivory paper with deckled edges. Eskel took his time in feeling the book in his hands, running his thumbs down the rough edges of the paper and along the lettering of the title page.

J. A. Pankratz. The name jumped out at him, almost as if it were peering up at him from the page. Waiting. For what? Eskel shook his head with a heavy sigh. It had been a long day, and now his imagination was running rampant before even starting the book. He smiled to himself as he pictured Jaskier, tucked away and cozy, cracking open his own copy of the book and seeking the knowledge that he had been chasing.

There was no introduction, no prelude into the lore that lurked in the supple pages. Only a simple table of contents, and publication information. Nothing odd that caught Eskel’s eyes, but his fingers felt beckoned to the page of chapter one. Myths and Reality.

Eskel felt submerged in the writing, enveloped in the dense weave of storytelling that swam into the forefront of his mind. Contrary to the myths of old, creatures of lust no longer require feeding from the unquenchable arousal of others. They live and breathe as humans, though you will find several marked differences. Their magic, though subtle, is a powerful compulsion, breaking through inhibitions to access the cravings that lay beneath the surface…

Now, Eskel boasted an ability to read and retain at breakneck speeds. He could finish a full-length novel in a night and be able to explain the plot and key details with surprising clarity. But his eyes glazed over as he darted around words and theories, letting them almost bleed into his brain as his fingers flipped the pages by. His tea sat forgotten: he read as though searching to sate a deep thirst in his belly.

The air around him grew warm as the moon rose higher and higher, and Eskel felt a welcome flush crawl its way up his chest and around his throat. His cock stirred between his legs, filling slowly while his mind swam in a hazy bliss. The words on the pages blurred together, though Eskel tried valiantly to bring his focus back to the book in his hand.

Though not for much longer. With a gentle sigh he slipped the light blue ribbon (almost exactly that odd shade of blue that was locked away in Jaskier’s eyes…) in between the pages and set the book back down on the table. Eskel dropped the heel of his palm down to drag up the base of his cock. His breath hitched and he dropped his head back, squeezing himself lightly through the soft cotton of his pants. Fuck, when did he get so hard?

The elastic band was pushed out of the way, only halfway down his thighs, just enough to let Eskel wrap his hand around his cock. He was already dripping precome, slicking his hand with every swirl around the head. His mind filled in hazy edges and wandering bubbles of arousal with Jaskier, that soft smirk and wavy brown hair and broad shoulders and a tongue that seemed like it could cut glass.

Eskel adjusted his legs, planting his feet down on the floor and spreading his thighs open, swallowing thickly as another bead of arousal dripped down the length of him. His other hand wandered up to his chest where he almost absentmindedly ran his fingers over his tender nipple just as he had thumbed along the rough edges of the pages in the book, scratching through the rough pull of the fabric of his jumper. His back arched and his hips chased a building pace, his climax building from the base of his spine.

His mind helpfully supplied an image of Jaskier, kneeling on the floor between his knees, his lips open and waiting for him. Eskel tensed as he felt himself draw closer and closer to the edge of the euphoric cliff, almost feeling the pressure of Jaskier’s hands drag up his legs. Piercing cornflower blue eyes looked up at him with burning intensity and shoved Eskel into the most intense orgasm he had given himself in a long time.

Heavy gasps tore into drawn-out sighs, his jaw clenched as his muscles tensed and rippled beneath his skin. His vision whited out and his ears rang with deafening silence, drowning him in oblivion that he couldn’t have torn himself out of if he had tried. Instead, the world came back to him slowly, waves of a tide depositing the whir of his ceiling fan, the ethereal echo of the moon’s light on the hardwood floors.

Eskel slowly blinked open his eyes, taking long, heavy breaths and smiling headily. He glanced down, finding long white ropes of his spend draping down the collar of his jumper to where he still held his cock gently in his palm. He stroked himself once more, slowly, dragging the last beads of his spend off of himself. He didn’t think twice before bringing his fingers to his lips, tasting the salty bitterness of his climax on his tongue.

Eskel sighed once more as he felt the world push in on the comfortable quiet of his mind, prodding his eyelids to grow heavy and his bed to beckon him from behind the cracked door of his room. He tucked himself away and pushed himself out of the cushy chair, dragging his feet towards his washing machine. He shucked his soiled jumper off into the empty drum and set it to do an extra pre-rinse.

He flipped the lights off and toed open the door to his room, gracelessly flopping onto the bed and shuffling under the blankets. Eskel curled up around himself, feeling warm and fuzzy, though maybe...maybe a little empty? He sighed and hugged his arms against his chest, wishing to all hopes that he wasn’t actually alone as the sweet embrace of sleep overtook him.

---

An entire week passed before Eskel saw Jaskier again. Which he couldn’t say was odd; they had only been in the same place a handful of times, and there hadn’t been any sort of routine to it.

At least, that’s what Eskel told himself.

Another long day of needy customers and screaming children left Eskel drained, and he didn’t hesitate to close the bookstore early. He flipped the sign around to say ‘Closed’ and counted down his money, leaving it in the safe in the back for the morning.

He pushed the glass door open and spun around as it fell shut, slipping his key in and letting the cylinder fall into place. Eskel glanced around, spying a familiar cock-sure smirk on the face of a man as he strode over to him from the coffee shop across the street with a quite attractive swagger. Jaskier stopped at a careful distance, though Eskel tried to keep his face as open and friendly as possible. “Hey, Eskel.”

“Oh, Jaskier,” Eskel peeked behind him towards the shop, “did you need something from in there? I was just locking up, I’m sorry-”

“Oh, no. Well, maybe. We’ll see. But uh. That’s not why I’m here.”

Eskel crooked his head, “Okay…”

“Listen, I didn’t want to do this while you were on the clock, cause that’s icky, but uh…would you be interested in going out sometime? Grab some coffee, or lunch maybe?”

Eskel had completely blue screened. He didn’t think he’d actually get this far. Shit, how long had it been since he actually went on a date? What was he gonna wear? Where were they going?

Fuck.

Didn’t even give him an answer yet.

---

The coffee across the street was fine, but Eskel really just found himself more and more enamored with the striking young man who kept gently bumping their knees together beneath the table.

It was the easiest date that Eskel had ever found himself on. Jaskier was kind, funny, intelligent. Caring. It was the simplest thing in the world for him to invite Jaskier on a quiet walk, meandering through the city streets until they found themselves at Eskel’s stoop.

Eskel glanced down at the prettiest ethereal blue eyes he’d ever seen and smirked. “Wanna come in?”

Jaskier grinned toothily, “I thought you’d never ask.”

The keys clattered to the floor as Eskel led the way over the threshold, grabbing Jaskier by the waist and kissing him deeply. Their lips danced and Eskel could almost taste the lust that poured from his very being. They pushed and tore at hemlines and buttons, craving the release of skin hidden away. Eskel finally got Jaskier’s shirt open and threw it to the floor, running his fingers through the thick hair that was so generously dusted over his broad chest.

Eskel’s own shirt fell open by Jaskier’s fingers and he let his hands drop down to the button on Jaskier’s trousers. But a soft hand stopped him, and Eskel watched his throat bob in anticipation.

“Before we go on,” Jaskier smirked, though his eyes shone with a tinge of worry, “I…have a bit of a…situation to inform you of.”

Eskel’s mind started spinning in circles, covering different scenarios and how best to respond to them. Does he have an STD? Is he a fugitive on the run from the law? Hung up on an ex? Maybe he’s ace? Poly? Enby? Trans? Is it his first time? The list went on and on, greased gears turning rapidly in Eskel’s head. However, what Jaskier actually said hadn’t even made its way into Eskel’s mind.

“I wrote that book. About the incubi.”

Eskel blinked and glanced between Jaskier’s eyes, searching for more answers, rubbing his thumbs gently along Jaskier’s hips. “O-okay…”

“How far did you get?”

Eskel thought back to the night that he had brought the book home, and the fantasy that his mind had woven for him. “Uh...not far. I...I got distracted.”

Jaskier nodded, just the barest hint of a blush spreading like watercolors over his cheeks. “Well...when I say that I wrote the book...I wrote it from personal experience. I am actually an incubus.”

At that point, Eskel’s brain completely stopped computing. He was confused beyond belief and undeniably still horny, and the only thing that he could let slip from his lips was an eloquent, “Huh?”

Jaskier offered a none-too-sheepish smile, his eyes shimmering with unbridled attraction. But he let Eskel process, the two of them standing just inside of Eskel’s doorway, naked from the waist up.

Eskel swallowed and willed his brain cells to work, dammit. "You're a-an incubus? I thought they were-I mean, forgive my ignorance I just haven't, ah, met one... or heard of anyone else... meeting one. Recently."

Jaskier chuckled, the sound like music to Eskel’s ears. “Oh gods, you’re adorable. There’s only a handful of us left, and we don’t generally tend to advertise. Of course you thought it was just a myth. Kind of the point, love.”

Jaskier gently ran his hands up Eskel’s arms, smoothing his fingers into the generous muscle. “I want you to know, though, that I…we don’t feed off of lust. Never did. It...it was a lie, a myth. Our magic is...it’s indulgence, an amplification of lust that’s already there. So I didn’t like...hunt you down, or anything creepy. You just caught my eye, and I thought I’d see if you were interested.”

Eskel nodded, resting his forehead down onto Jaskier’s. “Gotta say, this isn’t quite how I imagined this evening goin’. But...weirder shit happens. And...I’d be lyin’ if I said that I wasn’t still ridiculously attracted to you.”

He brought his lips down and kissed Jaskier sweetly, sliding their lips together slowly and languidly, relishing in the balance of wills that they had found themselves in. Jaskier broke away first, brushing the tip of his nose over Eskel’s. “A-and one more thing-”

“Whatever it is, it’s fine.” Eskel couldn’t really help the way that his brows scrunched in disbelief, even the tiniest bit, but he didn’t want to put Jaskier off by not buying into whatever he was trying to convince him of.

“Well…” Jaskier blinked, biting his lip, “I...one of the things with my magic. I can...I can change the...parts that I have. I can kinda switch? Between a-a...you know?” He gestured vaguely to the region between his legs, and Eskel nodded, somewhat getting the picture. “And I don’t really have a preference, everything’s enjoyable...so if you do, I can just kinda…*poof*,” he smiled.

Now, Eskel really wasn’t sure if anything weirder had happened, at least that he was aware of. Did I eat something off today? Not that he could remember, but this all felt...well. Like an odd fever dream. But Jaskier felt so real in his arms, and he was looking up at him with such sincerity that he figured, ah, what the hell. I’ll humor him...or, them? Ah shite, I should ask-

“Right...so, d-do you want me to call you something else? I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or use the wrong pronouns or-”

Jaskier smiled and reached up, ruffling Eskel’s hair and sliding the tips of his fingers down the line of his jaw. “You’re sweet. No, Jaskier is perfect, and I use he/him always. Sometimes I change the parts that I have for pleasure, but I am always Jaskier.”

Eskel squinted, still feeling like he was maybe having the wool pulled over his eyes. “Mhm. And uh-”

“Would you like a demonstration?” Jaskier smiled sweetly, still running his fingers along Eskel’s shoulders in lazy swirls. Eskel nodded and led them further into the apartment, giving Jaskier some space to strip himself of the remainder of his clothes. Eskel wasn’t quite sure what to expect, but this seemed like a lot of effort for someone to create a falsity that intricate. He stood bare before Eskel, broad chest tapering down to a soft waist and thick thighs, with a pretty cock nestled in a bed of dark hair.

Eskel sighed and ran his hand through his hair. “Y-you’re gorgeous…”

“Oh, stop it you. You’re making me blush,” Jaskier smirked, popping his hip. “Now, don’t watch too closely, or else you’ll never look at a human quite in the same way again.”

But Eskel couldn’t tear his eyes away as Jaskier’s hips lit up in a burst of buttercup-yellow sparks that dissipated with a blink of his eyes, and then there was a little slit that was just barely visible beneath the nest of dark hair, rather than what had been there only a moment prior. Eskel’s jaw fell agape, now fully in awe of the apparently magical creature that was standing naked in his living room.

“Believe me now?” Jaskier shrugged, spinning himself around to show off his pert buttocks and legs with muscles that delicately danced just beneath the surface.

Eskel swallowed, and he felt his cock throb in the tight confines of his jeans, an impatient reminder that he was, in fact, still very into Jaskier. “Uh... yeah. Yeah, I-fuck, that's incredible. I certainly don't need more convincing and I...well, um..." Eskel got a wolfish look in his eyes, "Which would you like me to start with?"

Jaskier bit his lip and nodded, stepping backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of Eskel’s armchair. Eskel quickly wrestled with the buttons and zipper of his pants before tearing them down his legs, shucking them off to the side before following Jaskier to his reading corner.

Jaskier sat down, sprawled bare with his cunt shining and dripping with his arousal onto the soft red cushion of the same chair that Eskel fuckin jerked himself off in. Eskel really really couldn’t decide just where he wanted to look, so he just...dropped to his knees and leveled his face with the blushed pink lips between Jaskier’s legs.

Jaskier gasped and his fingers flexed on the arms of the chair. “Usually, we’re the ones giving pleasure, but yeah sure, I’m not gonna say no…”

“C’mon,” Eskel rumbled as he rested his chin on Jaskier’s thigh, his breath fanning gently over the glistening lips between Jaskier’s legs. “You can’t expect me to see this whole package and not want to bury my face in you?”

And sure, maybe it had been a while since Eskel had found himself with his lips between someone’s thighs like that, but fuck he hadn’t realized how much he missed it. Eskel finally dragged his tongue through his slit and around the sensitive bud at the apex of his thighs, shooting pleasure up through Jaskier’s stomach and into his neck with a soft pink blush. Eskel even had a bit of stubble sprouting over his chin, and he could almost see the sweet burn that it left on the insides of his thighs. A dark moan crawled up out of Jaskier’s chest as he threaded his fingers into the soft strands of Eskel’s hair.

Eskel leaned into his touch and wrapped his lips around Jaskier’s clit and sucked lightly, running a finger down through Jaskier’s slit before slowly pushing inside. Jaskier arched into him, his head hitting the back of the chair and his legs wrapping around Eskel’s head. But there was suddenly one very demanding problem: Eskel, while he normally sported an unending well of patience, was running out. He wanted to feel Jaskier fall apart around him, to feel him everywhere. So he slid his hands up beneath Jaskier’s thighs and around his bum and pulled, resettling him on the very edge of the seat, basically sitting him on Eskel’s chin as he drank anew.

The glide of Jaskier’s hips up and down Eskel’s chin was enough to have him dripping slick onto the hardwood floor beneath him, and he felt more than heard the wet squelch of Jaskier’s tender spot inside of him as he slipped in a second finger. Jaskier keened high and started fucking himself on Eskel’s fingers in earnest, and Eskel crooked his elbow so that he could hit that angle over and over and over again.

Eskel could feel how close Jaskier was, with the fluttering and tightening of his walls around his fingers and the near constant drip of slick down his arm. He lapped and sucked at his clit with fervor, pushing him relentlessly towards the climax that loomed over them both with each wet slap up and down of his fingers.

And oh, when Jaskier finally plummeted over that cliff of euphoria? Eskel was drenched in a wave of slick that dripped down his chin and into the dark coarse hairs on his chest. Jaskier’s fingers tightened in his hair and he cried out Eskel’s name, even sweeter than anything he would’ve dared imagine. Eskel slowed his fingers and lapped gently at the tender flesh between Jaskier’s thighs, coaxing him down through the blinding pleasure that overtook him.

“Oh,” Eskel murmured, resting his forehead on the mound of soft hair over Jaskier’s still fluttering arousal, “th-that was…fuck that was amazing.”

Jaskier chuckled and loosened his grip on Eskel’s hair, gently scratching and running his fingers down Eskel’s cheek. “I wish I could’ve warned you that was coming, but uh…my brain was definitively not keeping up.”

Eskel rose to his feet, pulling Jaskier up onto shaky legs. “C’mon, little bird. Let’s get to the bed.”

Jaskier followed Eskel through an open doorway into his bedroom, and Eskel could once again feel the intense gaze of his eyes roving over his ass. “So Eskel, do you want to fuck me?” Jaskier smiled, pressing his lips softly to the rough valleys of Eskel’s scarred cheek.

Eskel blushed, running his hand back through his hair, the muscles of his arm swelling and running Jaskier’s mouth dry. “I-well. I was actually wonderin’ i-if you’d-well. If you’d fuck me.”

Jaskier‘s eyes alighted with a fire that sent a sounded thread straight through Eskel’s core. “Oh, you have no idea just how much that would be my pleasure.”

Jaskier set his hands on Eskel’s hips and pushed him gently towards the bed, tapping him lightly on the ass. “Mind if I have a snack?”

Eskel shuddered and chuckled, climbing onto his hands and knees on the bed with his bum pointed to Jaskier. “Help yourself.”

Eskel braced himself to be licked and brought to pleasure with a fervor that had matched his own, but what he got instead was a soft hand that smoothed up the back of his thigh, gently palming his cheek and spreading him before a sweet kiss was placed on the globe of his ass.

“Y-you dont have to be gentle with me-“

“I want to be gentle with you, you mountain of a man. Now, let me make you feel good.”

A warm ghost of breath slid over the small of Eskel’s back as Jaskier knelt on the bed behind him, settling his hands on Eskel’s hips and squeezing lightly.

“Oohhhh,” Eskel groaned as Jaskier flattened his tongue over his entrance, mouthing around the tight ring of muscle and kneading his fingers into the meat of his bum.

He felt himself relax into Jaskier’s touch, letting his mind drift into a pleasant haze. Jaskier’s hand snaked around his leg and wrapped around his weeping cock, slowly stroking in time with his tongue pushing into his entrance. His hips rocked back and forth into Jaskier, riding the comfortable waves of arousal as they washed over him.

“Fuck me dead, you’re delicious,” Jaskier’s voice was thick and husky, dripping like syrup. “I’m assuming you’ve got lube hidden away in here?”

Eskel laughed breathily, adjusting his shoulder to point to his bedside drawer. “Right up top.”

Jaskier patted Eskel’s behind and pushed himself up, reaching into the drawer and rummaging around. Eskel heard a cute little ‘aha!’ and the click of a plastic cap being opened.

A slick pair of fingers circled his entrance and he keened, gasping back into Jaskier’s touch. “I-in, please-“

“Alright, Eskel. You’ll tell me if it’s too much?”

Eskel nodded and Jaskier slowly pushed his finger in, thrusting lightly until he was buried to the knuckle. He poured some more lube onto his finger and let Eskel set his preferred pace, following the rocks of his hips and the heavy flexing of his cock between his legs.

Before long, Jaskier slipped in another finger, and then another, stretching Eskel open. Eskel growled and moaned and pushed hard back into Jaskier’s fingers, only just barely brushing against that sweet spot that was nestled so deep.

Eskel was sweating, his hands tangled in the sheets as pleasure built to crescendo behind his eyes, and he felt the stirrings of the point of no return hanging just out of sight. “W-wait, Jaskier. Fuck, I’m ready.”

Jaskier hummed and slipped his fingers from inside of him, leaving him gaping and empty as he patted his hip. “Flip over, Eskel. I wanna watch you fall apart.”

Eskel flipped onto his back and looked up at Jaskier, his soft skin dusted with a generous coating of dark hair, his tummy soft and leading down to-

Hnnnggggg

Instead of the pretty cunt that Eskel had buried himself in, that same equally pretty cock from earlier now jutted out from Jaskier’s hips, flushed and dripping with slick. He spoke without thinking, “Fuck I want you in my mouth.”

Jaskier giggled and ran the bottle of lube up the line of his cock, spreading it around with his hand and dropping the bottle to the side. He clambered back onto the bed between Eskel’s thighs and ran his hands up either side of his stomach reverently. “Maybe later. For now, though, I’d very much like to fuck you.”

Eskel reached up and ran his fingers into Jaskier’s hair as he felt the blunt head of his cock press against his entrance. He breathed deeply, tasting the arousal in the room on his tongue as Jaskier pushed in slowly, slotting their hips together and leaning down atop him.

“I’m not sure,” Jaskier gasped, resting his forehead on Eskel’s, “that I’ve ever felt anyone so sweet. I could die here, and would do so happily.”

“I’d rather if you didn’t,” Eskel smirked, clenching around Jaskier in an effort to get him to move.

“Gah, ca-can I m-“

“Please. Please move. Fuck me. Ruin me.”

Jaskier grinned like the cat who caught the canary, rubbing his thumbs back and forth over Eskel’s flanks as he oh so slowly slid back out of Eskel, and just as slowly slid back in. Eskel felt every slick inch of him in stark relief, his head swimming with how beautifully he was filled.

“F-faster...go on, Jask- y-you won’t break me…”

Jaskier gasped a hitched breath as his hips snapped forward accidentally, sending a shockwave of pleasure up Eskel’s spine. “Ah, fuck. O-okay. D-don’t wanna push too f...far-”

Eskel slid his hand up to cup the delicate jaw of the incubus atop him. “I’ll tell you. I promise. But I trust you. Take me.”

Jaskier’s eyes fluttered shut and he slammed his cock into Eskel, rocking back and forth with a fervor unlike anything Eskel had ever had the great pleasure to have been a part of before. Eskel could feel the crown of his head hitting the wall behind his bed with every sharp thrust of Jaskier’s hips, but he really couldn’t find it in himself to care. He just took it, not even able to form a coherent string of words together, only offering soft grunts and drawn-out moans that were swallowed by Jaskier’s lips.

Eskel’s mind swam in an impossible oblivion, every thrust of Jaskier inside of him pushing him closer and closer to an unstoppable climax. He felt Jaskier’s hands drag down beneath his thighs and lift, settling his ass on the tops of his thighs and oh holy shit right fucking there-

And then. Eskel thought that he was about to pass out when Jaskier adjusted himself to prop one of his elbows next to Eskel’s head and grabbed his cock with the other, stroking in quick jolts that matched every time he hit his prostate and-

Oh fuck he was coming. Eskel shouted in high breaths that escaped from his lungs as his body shook with wave after wave after wave of pleasure. He spent thick white ropes of seed between them, dripping through both of their chest’s hair, his fingers clenching onto any inch of Jaskier that he could reach.

And oh sweet gods above, Jaskier didn’t miss a beat, just slipped his hand off of Eskel’s oversensitive cock and fisted his hands in the sheets on either side of Eskel’s head. Eskel lazily opened his eyes as his blinding orgasm faded away and gently ran his finger down the soft, just barely stubbled line of Jaskier’s jaw. “Go on, Jask,” Eskel rumbled, watching the shudder that ran through Jaskier’s taxed nerves, “Come for me.”

Gasps of hot breath ghosted over Eskel’s face as Jaskier drove his hips deep, his eyes rolling back in his head as he spent inside of Eskel. His entire body shuddered and rippled as he came under Eskel’s hands, something shimmering just beneath the surface of his skin. Jaskier dropped his head into the crook of Eskel’s shoulder, pressing his lips softly to the tender flesh as his spend leaked past the tight seal of his cock.

They both ran their hands slowly over each other, soothing overexerted muscles and lust-hazy minds. Jaskier hummed quietly, still nestled against Eskel’s neck and laying atop him, though Eskel really couldn’t find it in himself to complain. He swallowed thickly and rolled them over, holding Jaskier tightly to him and pressing his lips to his shoulder.

“That was...really nice,” Eskel’s voice was husky and cock-drunk, and he could feel the gentle blanket of sleep falling over his eyes.

Jaskier hummed and squeezed Eskel tighter against him as his softening cock slipped from the tight embrace of Eskel’s entrance. “Truly. You’ve rendered me near speechless.”

Eskel hummed with a sleepy smile, nestling his nose into the soft brown locks of Jaskier’s hair that just barely tickled his throat. “Stay tonight?”

He felt the muscles shift beneath his hands as Jaskier twisted around and pulled the lamp cord, bathing the room in darkness before tugging his throw blanket around them. “Sleep, darling. I’ll be here when you wake.”

As he drifted into the comfortable embrace of a well-earned rest, Eskel knew that he had somehow stumbled into one of the most exceptional people that had ever walked the Earth, and that he wasn’t letting him go any time soon.

[jaskierswolf]

What Form Love Takes

Summary: Geralt and Jaskier return once again to Kaer Morhen, only this time they're travelling high in the skies.

- Can be read as stand-alone - Part 8 of my Shapeshifter!Jaskier AU

CW: Non-sexual/non-graphic nudity (they take a bath)

___________

The fire in Jaskier’s lungs burned as he flew over the mountains. Another year on the path had come and gone. Winter was creeping in, a slow frost carpeting the Continent, tendrils reaching further south with each day. Both Jaskier and Geralt were anxious to return to their home in the Blue Mountains. They’d spent most of the year searching for Yennefer of Vengerberg with no success. Sorceresses were funny people and hard to track down. Jaskier had no doubt that the witch would turn up when she was ready. He roared as the crumbling keep came into sight, a pillar of flames bursting free from his lungs. The colours of the flame danced in front of his eyes, more vibrant in this form than any other. He could see the heat haze rippling through the air and he had to resist the urge to dive and spin through the air, dancing in the waves his flame had created.

But he had a rather fragile witcher on his back who would not be able to hold on if he were to dive the way he wanted. Geralt’s arms already had a death grip around his neck and the flight had been pretty steady so far. He heard his mate groan and felt the slight pressure of Geralt’s head pressing into his scales.

He snorted a smoke ring and flew through it. Flying was a phenomenal feeling. Geralt was just whining for the sake of it.

“Jask…”

Jaskier snorted again. There wasn’t much else he could say to his darling mate in this form without using telepathy, and he had never quite mastered that skill. He had a habit of barrelling into memories instead of placing his thoughts in the other’s mind. So he preferred to avoid it. Instead he just sniffed the air. The scent of roasted venison hit his senses, making his stomach rumble. He peered out over the horizon, a small smoke stack was puffing above the keep. Vesemir already had dinner on the go. Jaskier let out a happy rumble, not too dissimilar to a purr, and he felt Geralt’s finger brush the scales of his neck.

“What have you seen?” Geralt asked, still sounding a little queasy from their flight from Oxenfurt.

He pointed his snout towards the keep that was growing larger the closer they approached. Geralt should be able to see it now with his witcher senses.

“Kaer Morhen,” Geralt hummed and Jaskier nodded. He resisted the urge to dive towards their home. Instead he started a slower descent. When they got closer he still he began to circle the keep, getting lower with every turn.

He roared when he spotted Eskel and Vesemir waiting for the in the courtyard, another pillar of fire tore through the sky before he landed with a heavy thud on the ground. The two witchers waved them down.

“Always a dramatic entrance, bard,” Eskel laughed, reaching out his hand so that Jaskier could bump his snout against the palm of Eskel’s hand.

“We were late setting off.”

“We were starting to worry,” Vesemir huffed, arms crossed in front of his chest. Jaskier felt a swell of bitter pride in his chest. How dare this witcher insinuate that he couldn’t look after his mate? He was a dragon! He let out a low snarl, warmth heating up in his lungs.

“Easy, Jask,” Geralt rubbed the back of his neck in a warning. It wasn’t enough to incapacitate him but it did send a slight ripple of warmth down his spine. He blinked, forcing down his more draconic urges, and focussed on the voice of his mate. “Where’s Lambert?” Geralt asked, not removing his grip from Jaskier’s neck.

“He got caught up in Nilfgaard with that cat of his,” Vesemir grunted “they’re alive.”

Jaskier snorted, tail flicking against the ground. He was looking forward to having his family back together again, the disappointment was almost overwhelming. It wasn’t fair. They already had to walk the path alone throughout the year and now he couldn’t even see them for winter. Geralt must have sensed his distressed as he nuzzled his face against Jaskier’s neck.

“Wintering in Nilfgaard seems pretty cushy to me,” Eskel noted. “A lot less cold.”

Jaskier hissed at the blond witcher, earning himself a laugh from Geralt. “We miss them too, Jask.”

“We’ll get together in the summer for one of the festivals?” Eskel suggested. “There’s always plenty of contracts around then, I think the wine gets to everyone’s head.”

“Good idea.”

Jaskier let out a rumble of agreement before shaking Geralt from his back. The smell of venison in this form was too much, it was making him hungry and he had to dig his craws into the stones to stop himself from charging through the keep to the kitchens. He needed to change from this form, and fast.

Geralt landed next to him and pulled off the makeshift saddlebags with their belongs. Jaskier closed his eyes, letting his magic loose, rippling out in waves over the shiny red scales until pink skin morphed back into view. He landed on his hands and knees on the stone, the chill of the mountainous winter breeze quickly seeping into his bones. “Bollocks,” he hissed and launched himself into Geralt’s waiting arms. “It’s fucking freezing.”

Geralt chuckled and wrapped his arms around Jaskier, shielding him from the wind. Jaskier felt the press of Geralt’s lips on his hair and he sighed happily. The wind might be like shards of ice cutting into his skin but his lover was attentive and Jaskier felt safe in his arms. “We’ve had a long journey, we’ll be down for dinner,” Geralt told the oldest witcher before pulling Jaskier inside the keep. They dumped their bags in the entrance hall before making a beeline for the hot springs that lay deep within the keep, the only part of the building that remained unscathed from the battles of so long ago.

Jaskier shivered violently in Geralt’s arms. He should have transformed into something with fur first but he’d been stuck without words as they flew over the continent for hours, barely taking a break.  His back and shoulder were aching from the journey, a phantom pain where his wings had been. The hot springs would do wonders for the aches. “H. Home,” he stammered through chattering teeth.

Geralt hummed, fingers rubbing circles into his upper arm as they walked. The corridors grew darker as they walked further down, soon the light from the windows and cracks in the wall faded away and the only light left was the glow from the torches along the wall. Geralt held his hand out in front of them, a tiny little ball of fire in his palm. It wasn’t much but the heat from the flames was blissful.

Fuck, humans really weren’t meant for the winters of Kaer Morhen. This year must have been colder than usual, as Jaskier could have sworn that he could usually at least stand outside long enough to strip out of his clothes, perhaps the weariness from the journey had worn him down more than he thought. Now that he thought about it he eyes were starting to droop and Geralt was practically carrying him through the corridors.

“‘M tired…”

“I know.”

Jaskier wanted to make a joke about Geralt’s ever eloquent ways but his tongue felt too heavy in his mouth. Bath, food and a good sleep. That’s what he wanted.

The air was thick with steam as they pushed the door open into the springs. Jaskier sighed happily as the heat prickled against his skin. He took one look at the pools of water and shifted. Geralt’s hand reached up to hold his medallion as Jaskier’s magic whipped out around them, the crack of bones bouncing off the walls. The room grew bigger and he fell to the ground on four paws, scratching against the wet stones as he scurried to the water’s edge. He chosen this form well. He knew he was too tired to bathe without falling asleep and he would really rather not drown. He squeaked up at Geralt before diving into the water.

It was warm, hotter than the water he’d usually have liked in this form. The otters of this species were used to cold open sea water but he wanted to float. He swam under the water for a while, letting the warmth seep into his fur before breaching the surface. He rolled onto his back and closed his eyes, keeping his paws tucked into his chest.

“Jaskier,” Geralt chuckled and Jaskier felt himself float a little further, the water rippling as Geralt finally joined him. “We can’t stay here for too long, love.”

Jaskier squeaked, not opening his eyes. He would stay here forever if he could.

“Are otters really that fluffy?”

Another squeak, and he cracked one eye open to glare at Geralt. His anger didn’t last long when he saw the look Geralt was giving him. It was unbearably fond, head tilted and a soft smile on his face. His hair had come loose from the leather hair tie on the back of his head, and water was clinging to his chest, caught in the dark grey tuffs of hair. Jaskier felt a swell of love in his heart, it was almost too much. He’d spent so many years worrying that he would never find a partner that would accept his true self, hiding his magic away like it was a dirty secret. If he felt himself falling in love then he would sneak out of the window in the dead of night, never to return.

He’d been convinced that no one would ever love him when they knew what he was, and he wasn’t willing to give his heart away to someone that couldn’t accept him. Geralt had blown past all those walls in an instant, and somehow Jaskier had managed to worm his way past the witcher’s own defences, finding both a lover and a new pack to call his own.

He pushed at the water with his paws and floated over to where Geralt was sat at the edge of the pools, he didn’t want to lose Geralt. He couldn’t loose Geralt. He reached out to his partner with his paws, with a quiet squeak.

“I love you too,” Geralt breathed in a soft voice, like he was in awe of Jaskier. As if the witcher wasn’t the most incredible creature on the whole Continent.

Geralt let Jaskier hold onto one of his fingers, tiny paws wrapping around the digit as if it were a lifeline. Jaskier chattered happily before closing his eyes, finally letting the exhaustion wash over him. He was safe, he was home, and Geralt wouldn’t let him float away.

He woke up to a gentle rocking movement, his face pressed against Geralt’s chest as the witcher carried him back to his room. He blinked, flicking his tail out behind him. It was only when he started purring that he realised he’d shifted forms in his sleep. His ears flicked out and he pawed at Geralt’s shirt.

“You only changed once I picked you up,” Geralt answered his unasked question, scratching him gently behind the ears. “I don’t think cats like the water very much.”

Jaskier meowed softly and nuzzled against Geralt’s chest. A gentle bite against Geralt’s collar was all the warning the witcher got before he let his magic ripple out over his skin. Geralt grunted under the sudden weight of the human in his arms, changing his hold so Jaskier was being carried bridal style up to their rooms. “Hey,” he mumbled sleepily “how long was I out?”

“Nearly an hour. Vesemir came to find us a few minutes ago. he’s keeping our food warm.”

Jaskier yawned and then pressed his lips to Geralt’s shoulder, sadly now covered by the tattered black shirt he wore under his armour. “I love you, darling.”

Geralt’s laughed rumbled in his chest and Jaskier smiled, still half asleep, as he buried his face in the crook of Geralt’s neck. Geralt’s hand cradled the back of his neck, carding through his hair, and Jaskier was asleep again in seconds.

The next time he woke they were back in Geralt’s bedroom, the witcher was now fully dressed in his thick winter clothes that the witchers preferred to wear in the evenings once training was done for the day. Jaskier was buried under thick furs on their bed, still naked. A roaring fire was blazing in the hearth, filling the room with its heat. “Dinner?” he asked as he blinked the sleep from his eyes. His stomach rumbled as if to repeat his question.

Geralt chuckled and crossed the room to kiss him on the top of his head. “Ready when you are.”

His stomach growled again and he grinned sheepishly. “I’m starving,” he whined. “why did you let me sleep?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him. “You just flew us halfway across the Continent, Jask, you needed the rest.”

“But I’m hungry,” he pouted.

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Bloody bards, never win.”

Jaskier grinned and pulled his boyfriend into a kiss, cupping Geralt’s face in his hands. “Au contraire, my love, I think you win every single day.”

“So modest,” the witcher grumbled against his lips, rubbing their noses together.

“You love me,” he purred.

“Hmm.”

Jaskier giggled and kissed Geralt again, lazily, pouring all his love into the kiss, but he blasted stomach rumbled again before the kiss could get anywhere. He whined as he pressed his forehead against Geralt’s. The witcher laughed, stroking a thumb along his cheek. “Let’s go find the others,” Geralt suggested.

“Hmm,” Jaskier replied, still pouting then with a heavy sighed he pushed Geralt away. “fine, spoilsport. Just let me get dressed first.”

Both Eskel and Vesemir were finished with their food by the time Geralt and Jaskier made it downstairs. Jaskier was wrapped up in thick wool lined clothes, a vibrant turquoise compared to Geralt’s dark navy blue ones. It wasn’t as thick as the fur he could have but he really did want to say hello to his family properly. He’d not seen Vesemir since last winter and they’d only run into Eskel once on the path.

“Greetings,” he waved at the two witchers “sorry we’re late.”

“He fell asleep again.”

“Well I’m sorry! You’re the one that lost Roach in a game of Gwent. It’s not my fault we had to fly all the way here.”

Geralt’s growled at the reminder. He’d been so sure that he could beat the arsehole but the bastard had cheated and they’d practically been run out of town, leaving Roach behind. Eskel gave a full bellied laugh, his tankard of ale crashing onto the table. “I wondered what had happened to her, it was a little soon to be replacing her.”

“She’s not dead,” Geralt grumbled, shooting daggers at Jaskier.

“We’ll find you a new horse in the spring, dearest of hearts,” he cooed, fluttering his eyelashes at his lover in attempt to soothe his anger.

“Not the point.”

“Oh ho ho!” Jaskier laughed, pulling his plate of food towards him. It was venison, of course, with thick gravy and roasted vegetables. On the side was a freshly baked roll, now a cold sadly but he really had needed to rest so he wasn’t too upset. “Grumpy witcher.”

Geralt growled again, which only made Jaskier laugh and this time Eskel and Vesemir joined in. Jaskier reached across the table to poked Geralt on the nose. “You know you don’t scare me, love.”

“Hmm.”

The dining hall echoed with the laughter of witchers, and for a brief moment Jaskier could imagine what Kaer Morhen had been like before the siege; full of witchers, brothers in arms, loyal friends and family. It made his heart ache. As much as he adored his pack, they didn’t deserve the pain of losing so many. Contrary to popular belief, these wonderfully kind beings were not meant to be alone.

He gazed around at his family, a pang of regret that Lambert and Aiden were not with them for the winter, and smiled fondly. He took Geralt’s hand under the table. The witcher raised an eyebrow at him but he shook his head. There were no words to describe this feeling, the warmth in his chest for finding the place that he belonged, the bitter pain of yearning. So many different and conflicting emotions in one single moment. How could he possibly find the words that could encompass all of that? He settled for holding Geralt’s hand under the table as they ate, joking and laughing with their family as if they’d never been away.

_____

Next

[nightshade-blues-journal]

The Date or Love Amidst the Corpses

A short sort of continuation of The Ard Carraigh Funeral Home. More notes than fiction.

This is a Modern AU where, as Vesemir said, any idiot with a gun can buy silver bullet and shoot down drowners, but nekkers are the work for a witcher.

As a side note, Lambert's cookbook is centuries old and contains traditional recipes from all over the Continent.

Geralt knows Jaskier isn't human — he recognises when Jaskier uses glamour, but he also knows that nothing malicious can get onto their property, so he isn't worried about Jaskier's precise nature.

As soon as the last wake of the day is over and done with, Geralt hunts down Lambert, who initially tells him to fuck off and to not even breathe on his cookbook. Eskel, witnessing the exchange, says to just google easy snacks and be done with it.

"Yeah," Lambert adds, "if your boy toy likes your stupid mug enough to go on a date, he's not doing it for food."

Geralt, of course, doesn't want to risk it, and eventually, Lambert relents and gives him some tips on what to do in exchange for a month of grave-digging (they take turns with that part of the job).

Geralt and Jaskier do go to the shore. It's a brisk spring night with a clear sky, but just as Geralt sets a cooler onto a picnic table, his phone pings with an alert: local PD sent out a notification about alghouls hunting around the western cemetery, which happens to be close enough to where Geralt and Jaskier are. Duty calls and all that, so Geralt makes his excuses and offers to drop Jaskier off in the city, but Jaskier won't have it.

"Oh, no! I'm coming with you! Such an opportunity to witness a witcher at work doesn't come often."

So after some protests that fall on deaf ears, Geralt agrees because otherwise, Jaskier would have just followed him anyway. Since Geralt doesn't go out after dark without a silver sword and keeps an emergency supply of potions on hand basically always, he drives them straight to the cemetery (he has a motorcycle of Temerian make, fast and sleek, but not the newest model).

There, Jaskier gets to watch from a safe distance as Geralt cuts down two alghouls, but as the third is about to jump on the witcher, Jaskier sneaks up on it instead and stabs the alghoul with a silver dagger before it can hurt Geralt.

Making a gurgling sound, the alghoul drops dead. Geralt whirls around, breathing hard. His sword is raised for a strike. Jaskier drops the glamour, becoming visible. Geralt stares at the alghoul's corpse at Jaskier feet, then at Jaskier. He lowers his sword.

"What?" Jaskier asks. "I couldn't just let this foul creature hurt you."

And all Geralt is actually thinking is, Wow. Sexy. Hot. And a mental equivalent of grabby hands.

"I don't suppose we can pick up where we left off?" Jaskier says. He licks his lips, giving Geralt a slow once-over. "I've worked up quite an appetite."

And while having their first kiss amidst the stinking to high heaven corpses is neither romantic nor is it particularly sane, it works for them just fine.

[jaskicr]

geraskier childhood friends au with fae jaskier

summary:

Geralt had a best friend, once. Julian had been the first person to choose Geralt - he’d been Geralt’s first friend, his first love, but Geralt had hurt him unforgivably.

Now, when Jaskier chatters at him, smiling at him without a hint of fear in his scent, Geralt tries not to think about how Jaskier reminds him too much of Julian. They have the same crooked smile, the same ringing laugh, and they both touch Geralt in the same way, gentle and caring.

But then comes the dragon hunt - and Geralt hates that he always does this. When people care about him, and when he cares about them in return, he inevitably pushes them away. Julian and Jaskier had both chosen him, but all Geralt ever does is hurt. When will he learn that destruction is all that he’s capable of?

Or: Geralt and Jaskier meet in a forest near Kaer Morhen when they’re children. They grow up together as best friends, then as lovers, but when Geralt leaves for the Path, it tears them apart.

Decades later, in a tavern in Posada, they find each other again.

----

When he finally walks back up to Kaer Morhen, steps slow and laboured, Geralt doesn’t think he’s ever felt so heavy, his grief and guilt weighing down every step. After enduring Geralt pushing him away twice, Jaskier has finally decided to step back from their friendship, has finally decided to leave, and it hurts, even though Geralt knows that he deserves it.

Jaskier’s farewell is an ache deep in his bones, an empty hollow in his heart, and it’s horrible, and Geralt can’t lose him. The memory of Jaskier’s sad eyes as he bids Geralt a final farewell lingers in Geralt’s mind, sends waves of utter devastation coursing through him, and Geralt can’t lose him.

He can’t live without Jaskier, not again, and he can’t bear the thought of never seeing Jaskier again, never seeing his bright smile and his kind eyes, never hearing his musical voice and his joyous laughter, never feeling his gentle touches and warm embraces. Jaskier is his best friend, his everything, and Geralt needs him, and he resolves to do anything and everything to prove to Jaskier that he means it, that he wants their friendship back and won’t hurt him ever again.

He’d lost Jaskier twice, both times due to his own stupidity and foolishness. He won’t let that happen a third time. 

As Geralt lays in his bed that night, replaying the memory of Jaskier’s farewell over and over, a plan grows in his mind. Jaskier won’t seek him out, not after how they’d parted, but Jaskier has always known whenever Geralt shows up in the clearing, or even in the forest. If Jaskier is somehow aware of his presence, maybe… maybe Geralt can prove his dedication if he stays there. It’s not much, certainly not as grand of a gesture as Geralt would like, but it’s the only thing he can do if Jaskier stays away.

He’s desperate to do anything, anything, that would give him a chance of getting Jaskier back, and he has no idea what he’s going to do beyond staying in the clearing, but it’s something. 

The next morning, Geralt greets his brothers, who are readying themselves to head back out onto the Path, as he walks over to Vesemir.

“I, uh, I think I’m going to stay here for a while this year,” Geralt says sheepishly.

Vesemir gives him a strange look. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not going to head back out on the Path just yet,” Geralt explains, wringing his hands. “I think… I want to rest for some time.”

It's not the reason why he’s staying, but Vesemir seems to buy it, his face softening, and he pats Geralt on the shoulder. “Well, feel free to stay as long as you’d like. I know you’ve been through a lot, and you deserve a break.”

“I’ll be back on the Path once I can,” Geralt promises. He’ll stay for as long as it takes.

“Of course,” Vesemir agrees, and sends him a small smile. “Just don’t wreck the keep. I’ll put you through extra training next winter if you ruin anything.”

Geralt chuckles softly. “I won’t, Vesemir. Thank you.”

“Take care of yourself,” Vesemir responds, heading over to where Lambert and Eskel are fiddling with their packs.

Geralt bids farewell to his family, watching as they disappear down the trail before he heads back into his room. He packs his belongings, bringing things that he normally wouldn’t take on the Path, things like a warm blanket and a thicker, more comfortable bedroll. Jaskier’s key is tucked under his clothes, and he wraps his fingers around it and pulls it out, displaying it proudly on his chest for everyone to see.

He heads to the stables and slings his pack on Roach, who bumps her head against him, and Geralt smiles sadly. She’d been irritable ever since he’d left Jaskier on that mountain, likely missing Jaskier’s quiet affection and the sugar cubes he would sneak to her while Geralt would pretend not to know. 

“You miss him too, huh?” he murmurs, stroking her mane, and she bucks against his hand. “Well, let’s go get him back, shall we?”

He leads Roach into the forest, through familiar trees until he emerges in the clearing. It’s empty, devoid of light and laughter without Jaskier’s presence, and it’s wrong - it’s not supposed to be so hollow, so bleak. 

Geralt resolves to change that.

He clears a spot on the ground, setting up a small camp. He’ll be here for a while.

link to read more on ao3 in reblog!

[catscraftsandcommentary]

Witchers Meet Fangirls

(Stick with me, this'll be a little long)

Not to sneak into @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU with more headcanons, but what if Jaskier wrote some super sweet love songs about some of the long standing witcher couples - Cedric and Axel, Merten and Leocadie, Gweld and Serrit, Keldar and Ivar, etc.

I mean, Inex already mentions him writing a comic love song for Gweld and Serrit about a wolf wooing a serpent. ("The Red Wolf and the Serpent" from the end of Chapter 1, Into the Light out of Darkness - the one where they conquer Redania, free Aren and the mantikittens, and bring Aleksander/Sasha back to Kaer Morhen.)

And THEN, Yenn publishes the love songs abroad - as she's been doing with his other songs - and people being people, some of the younger folk are like "aw, how cute, I ship it!" And since witchers travel - and can request to be on patrols with their mates - those new fans of witcher couples might someday get to MEET their new favorite ship!

From a human point of view, you've been listening to all these lovely romantic ballads about a love that lasts centuries, through monsters and wars and standing up to your own brothers, and then! Then! One of those couples! Walks into your village!

(And they're just as sweet and fierce and in love as the songs all claim, aaaaaw!)

From a witcher's point of view, the songs are sweet, but the way people stare now is...a little creepy. And follow them around. And titter. Gods, the giggling, WHY.

Cedric and Axel haven't had this much trouble finding a quiet spot to screw in decades. Everyone keeps smiling at them!

They reach a town where there will be a festival in a few days, and far from being run out of town (pre-Ard Carraigh) or mostly ignored (recent years), Cedric and Axel are asked to be the special guests.

What. The. HELL.

...apparently it's a love festival, and having a couple whose love has lasted many years adds a greater blessing to it, or something. They just get special seats and food and drinks and more people cooing at them all day. Because they've been in love almost two centuries, which is twice the length of any previous couples they had preside over the festival.

And then a priestess asks if they'd like to renew their vows and lead the villagers who are participating in renewing theirs, and the two Cats are like "...vows. What? We're witchers. We don't MAKE vows, we just pick someone. And if they like us too, then we stay together."

But they think about it, and really...it's not such a bad idea. Maybe not to make the vows to any gods, but to declare publicly that this person is yours, and you theirs, by your own choices, forevermore.

(Also, as chaos loving Cats, if their example pushes any other lovers among the witchers to marry their beloveds...then why not? It'll be fun to see if Geralt, Eskel, and Jaskier ever marry publicly.)

[jaskiersvalley]

Through the Eyes of a Goat

We only have @ohnomybreadsticks to blame for this. As the one responsible for ticking off the bingo square fills, she has also been an enabler. After reading the firefighter/vet AU and picking up on a small detail, she has put an idea in my head and, well, I hadn’t filled the ‘from the perspective of a pet’ square on the card. Lil Bleater’s POV here we go.

Lil Bleater wasn’t stupid, she remembered many things. Like the softness of hay while lying next to her mother. The warmth of the sun. The heat of the bright blaze and the burn of acrid smoke in her lungs. But she also remembered strong arms lifting her, something being put over her face so the burning lessened. She remembered firm hands on her chest turning gentle as she got to her feet and was returned to her mother.

When the one with the solid, comforting arms returned, she recognised him and happily chewed on his hair when he bent down to greet her. It was no hardship to follow him, leaving mother and sibling behind. She trusted this strange creature, he had carried her to safety after all. Though she was feeling less generous when the whole world lurched and she felt so sick, she drooled everywhere until the machine came to a stop and she was allowed out. Giving herself a whole body shake, Lil Bleater took in the new surroundings.

“Be good now,” her rescuer grumbled. “Remember how Eskel was the one to save you. Don’t be rude to him. But bite Lambert’s toes, he’s an ass.”

Whatever that meant. Lil Bleater trotted off to investigate the noise she heard up ahead and a familiar person stepped out. He promptly froze, staring at her like she was the most terrifying predator on earth and someone bumped into him from behind.

“Is that-?” The one out front loomed as he approached, big and should have been scary. Instead, Lil Bleater found herself comforted by a strangely calming presence. A hand stroked over her and she happily presented herself for more adoration. Maybe a snack would come her way too.

“Lil Bleater,” a voice said from behind. “I figured she’d be a good addition, considering she’s the one who brought us together.”

“Always knew you were a sappy fuck,” the third person grumbled but there was a scent of salt in the air, something Lil Bleater wanted. “Come here you dumb sack of shit. I love you, Cahir.”

That meant Lil Bleater’s rescuer was called Cahir. A strange name but that was humans in a nutshell.

“Love you too, Lamb.”

Which left the familiar one to be Eskel in all likelihood - Lil Bleater wasn’t stupid. She trotted around, investigating what was worth licking while there were declarations of love being passed around and licking in each other’s mouths. Humans were so peculiar.

The new farm Lil Bleater inhabited was a strange amalgamation. She had run of the land for most parts, only banned from a few pens from which deep growls and snarls emitted. Not that she’d want to go anywhere near those. However, most of the other animals were willing to talk and, the more Lil Bleater learned, the more she realised her role in the farm. She was the greeter. The resident who never left, who came along because she was wanted there not because nowhere else would have her.

At random hours of the day, one of the humans would turn up with a new addition. At first, it had been almost exclusively Cahir and all the animals Lil Bleater met were brought back by him. They all had similar stories of either being carried out of a flaming inferno like Lil Bleater had been. Or they had been shut in with (or without) an owner for so long that the door had been broken down to get them out. Old Lucy pined for her owner, a sweet man who had been terribly unwell. He’d stopped moving during the night while walking past the front door and, in the morning, the firefighters had to break the door down to get in. Cahir had brought Old Lucy home and Lil Bleater had approached her, as was her duty.

Of course, it wasn’t just Cahir. Rather sheepishly, Eskel arrived, pulling a trailer behind his car late one afternoon.

“What have you got?” Lambert loped out of the house with a grin.

Rather than reply, Eskel opened the trailer and led a limping, grey stallion out. He looked a little chagrined. Scorpion became another staple at the farm. He’d been slated for putting to sleep because of recurrent eye problems. In fact, Eskel had been called out to do the deed, the stable no longer willing to deal with Scorpion’s moon blindness. Instead of being put to sleep, Eskel offered him a safe haven where he could be looked after without any demands from him.

Interestingly, Scorpion had a very different view of the humans than Lil Bleater. While she was loyal to Cahir, often ending up nestled in his arms if she pestered enough, Scorpion was besotted with Eskel. Rightfully so, Lil Bleater was also very fond of him, he was a good man, often sneaking her treats while chastising the other two for spoiling her rotten. However, it all changed when Lambert came home in the middle of the night. Lil Bleater heard him cursing and hopped up to knock her door open, wandering out to see what the noise was. Lights came on in the house and Lil Bleater watched as Eskel and Cahir stumbled out, rubbing pillow creased faces.

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Lambert grumbled too quickly. Except, he couldn’t hide whatever it was that he was doing. “Just. Don’t tease, okay? They had nowhere else to go.”

Because Lambert had always maintained that they already had enough animals, didn’t need any more, not when they were barely holding down their jobs and keeping the farm running. Now though, he was red cheeked and tugged on a piece of rope. Finally, a large cat slithered out of the car. She was huge, regal and obviously very spoilt.

“They?” Eskel asked and the car door opened up. Another man hobbled out, looking unsteady on his feet. Immediately, Lambert was rushing round, taking some of the weight off the new arrival’s feet.

“This is Aiden. I, uh, “ Lambert licked his lips nervously. “We got called to the aftermath of a domestic. House was trashed, he’s in custody but it wasn’t safe for Aiden to stay there. Especially not with Mia.”

It was Cahir who stepped forward, taking Aiden’s other side while Eskel scooped up Mia, giving her a quick once over.

“We’ll get a bed made up for you, don’t worry,” Cahir reassured.

Lil Bleater watched them make their slow way into the house. She wasn’t stupid, she knew things. Which was why she wasn’t surprised that Aiden never really left.

[goofgoofdildo]

I long for a geraskier au in the indeterminate past but vaguely Victorian where Geralt p much grows up in an orphanage in the country and Jaskier is the rich kid from the next property over.

I want Geralt who came into the orphanage and quickly learned that the best thing to do was to ignore jabs and do your thing. This tiny kid whose only friends were the boys he tried to fight back to and they saw a worthy opponent in him. And sure, they share blankets with Lambert and Eskel and if one of them is denied dinner as punishment, they smuggle bread into the dorms, but if Geralt called them friends, Lambert would freak out and maybe also punch him. And Eskel insists that they’re brothers, will correct any other term. Geralt thinks Eskel must have had friends before the orphanage, someone real. Geralt thinks Eskel longs for something beyond, and Geralt wants that, too, expect he’s not sure what the beyond is or if he’d like it.

They get a glimpse of the world sometimes, when Vesemir comes. Vesemir comes by on some Wednesdays and school is gets cancelled then. He teaches boys how to do work around the house, how to tend to animals they keep there. Really, he’s a vet, but he likes teaching the children. Geralt loves learning about the animals, volunteers to take care of them often. At least that way he can keep away from the other children, making fun of his hair or eyes. Vesemir teaches them to fight, too, sees how they quarrel and says they might as well do it properly. Geralt gets strong, so do the other boys, and they still hold each other at night, but they’re getting older. Eskel can’t wait to leave, Geralt knows. He’s hoping to learn, to travel. He’ll go to school, maybe. Geralt doesn’t want to go anywhere. He doesn’t want to go to school or any other institution but he’s got a knack for animals and so Vesemir takes him under his wing, teaches him, promises to take him in once he’s old enough.

And Geralt thinks what will it be like, then. He’s always been alone, but not without his brothers. What will become of him? Geralt is in his teens and realizes he knows very little about himself. He spends as much time as possible with the animals. He’s clipping some chickens’ wings one afternoon, as ordered, when an unfamiliar voice sounds close to him, ‘why would you be doing that?’ And when Geralt looks up, he sees perhaps the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. The boy in front of him is smiling, cheeks rosy, eyes piercing blue. He’s wearing blue clothes that really bring them out. Geralt surprises himself by noticing. He says, ‘I have to clip them so they don’t fly away.’ And the beautiful boy looks him straight in the eye and says, ‘you don’t want them to?’ It’s a genuine question and Geralt can’t answer.

They make friends. They know little about each other’s lives, but they do know some. Geralt learns that Jaskier wants to play music, not become a businessman. He plays to Geralt sometimes, during the night, when they both sneak out and meet in the field. With Jaskier, Geralt learns about himself. He likes music, he likes sounds, enjoys listening to the world. Jaskier is sound, Geralt is the listenig silence. Geralt likes colours, likes patterns. He likes the pattern leaves make on the ceiling when they catch sunlight. He likes the pattern on jaskier’s shirt. He likes soft and warm skin of a hand pressing into his calloused and scarred one. He likes Jaskier, likes that Jaskier calls him friend. They meet as often as they can and share about their dreams, their likes and dislikes. Jaskier is welcome to ask Geralt about a new scar when he gets one. It’s usually just some brawl with the boys. But Geralt doesn’t know if he can ask about the black eye Jaskier shows up with one night. Jaskier says nothing, but he does ask him if he’d ever kissed someone. If it felt weird kissing a girl at the orphanage, since they’re supposed to be like siblings. Geralt doesn’t know and he tells Jaskier this. They’re lying together in the short grass, fields on either side of them and Geralt wonders if he’ll get to hold jaskier’s hand again tonight. ‘I think about kissing you, sometimes,’ Jaskier says. Geralt takes his hand and squeezes hard and then Jaskier is hovering over him and pressing their mouths together. It’s over soon, but Geralt holds onto Jaskier for dear life and they stay pressed together for hours before they part.

And then Jaskier never comes back. Geralt comes out to the field still, but they never meet again. It’s okay, he thinks. He remembers Jaskier fondly and tries to tell himself that he’d been left behind, so as not to worry about what might have happened to the boy. Geralt moves in with Vesemir, into his place in a little village where they take care of animals and, soon, where Geralt takes care of Vesemir until he’s gone. And then it’s just him. Until one night, dark and gloomy, a storm raging outside. He gets a knock at the door. A tall man is outside of the door, holding a breathing sack of blue cloth. ‘The villagers sent me, said you’re the only doctor around,’ he says. Geralt observers the breathing blue sack limp in the man’s arms. ‘I’m a vet,’ he doesn’t know what else to say. It’s true that the doctor passed away recently. ‘Please. You’ll do. My daughter is dying,’ the man’s voice breaks, ‘please.’ And then the man looks up from under his soaked cloak and a pair of blue eyes pierce Geralt, they see him and widen in surprise and recognition. Jaskier.

part 2

[lesdemonium]

📚

thank you!!!

geraskier pride and prejudice au. there is less a plot and more a series of scenes that i daydream about.

the first few months of jaskier and geralt traveling together, where jaskier is convinced that geralt hates him and is also the most frustrating person he's ever met, but damn it the witcher makes him money! so he has no choice. geralt, however, completely enjoys jaskier. all of his teasing and attempts at humor, however, are completely misunderstood by jaskier, who thinks geralt is just an asshole.

riff on the mountain breakup where it's actually geralt asking jaskier to go away with him, but he does it in such a terrible way. he spends the entire time talking about jaskier's faults, how frustrating he is, how much he cannot stand the company jaskier keeps, etc., and then finally goes "but i can't imagine my life without you" and jaskier is just like "that is NOT a good enough reason to keep me around, after all i did for you!" and starts yelling at geralt about all the ways he's treated everyone around him poorly, like yennefer and ciri and lambert and eskel and how jaskier could not spend a moment longer with geralt after jaskier has seen first-hand how geralt treats his companions.

so geralt takes it upon himself to listen to jaskier's advice. he mends things with yennefer, he goes to claim and protect ciri, he reconnects with the other witchers, etc etc. i'm thinking there was some sleight against someone important to jaskier, that drove a wedge between jaskier and that person (hell, maybe even yennefer) and geralt even intentionally patched that up and made it possible for jaskier to reconnect, or something. so all these little events proving that not only did he listen to jaskier, he took what jaskier said seriously and did something about it.

jaskier traveling with some other troubadours post-mountain breakup, and they want to visit kaer morhen, which can now be toured. jaskier tries to talk them out of it, but they insist, and he's able to see where geralt lives and meets vesemir and maybe lambert or eskel, and learns more about geralt and how fondly he speaks of jaskier. then, of course, geralt returns early, and geralt and jaskier get some time to sort of patch things up.

and my personal favorite--geralt and jaskier have made up, are together, but this happens to coincide with something that's a really big deal for ciri (in the p&p book, this happens around when jane and bingley get engaged, it would obvs be different here) and they don't want to steal the attention from her. and everyone is convinced they still hate each other. but they spend the entire night sharing little glances here and there, taking every opportunity to touch each other in subtle ways, like little pinky touches under the table here and there. they sneak away once everyone is drunk to take a walk at night and just talk about how much they love each other, and plan out their future together.

send me a book emoji and i'll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven't written but daydream about.

[mollymawkwrites]

I just read (and reread sgdfhjlkl) your prison fic for watb and I'm having. Feelings. Primarily about cultivating vulnerability and tenderness in an oppressive and toxic environment which 😭

This AU is giving me so many questions tho. Presuming they continue building a relationship (which of course I'm going to presume) how will it progress? What kind of psychological toll will it take on them to keep up the performance, on Geralt particularly? I imagine it being painful for him to have to be so cold and forceful with Jaskier, especially as they grow closer, but does the greater objective of protecting him make it bearable? I feel like Jaskier would be more able to compartmentalize it, but could it get to be too much for him as well? What happens if it gets to a point where Geralt can't hide his affection for Jaskier, will that be used against them - not only by fellow inmates but by the guards? The wrath of the system is what's getting to me the most. Will Jaskier keeping Geralt "under control" as it were (meaning not tearing through new cellmates on a regular basis) be enough to maintain the status quo or will the guards find it more entertaining to play with them? Splitting them up, putting Jaskier with other more violent inmates or just torturing him themselves to torment Geralt? Will it get to the point where Geralt just tears the entire prison down and they run away to live out their days on the lam, maybe settle down on a lovely little coast in Mexico? (we can only hope) Also, what are they in for in the first place? Will Jaskier get out before Geralt? If Geralt's been routinely assaulting (or murdering??) other inmates is he EVER getting out? What will Jaskier do?

The whole situation has me thinking about the (woefully short) story of Butch and Wesley from the documentary "The Fear of 13" (which is very good, highly recommend and I think it's available on kanopy rn) where they were lovers on the outside and when Butch was arrested Wesley intentionally committed crimes so they could be together. Eventually they got separated and one of them was going to be moved to a different prison so that last night they sang to each other from across the cell block and the (usually tyrannical) guards let them have their goodbye. It's so soft yet tragic and I have so many feelings and I wish we knew what happened to them.

I'm sorry this is such a massively long ask, I've literally been thinking about this all evening and had to make some kind of comment 😅 your writing is lovely and I will definitely be reading more of it! (so maybe I'll be assaulting your inbox again soon dfghjjkl)

Gods Anon, I had such trouble keeping plot from sneaking into this fic, and you are not helping! I've been thinking about it all day long because of you!

I think Geralt would suffer greatly, both from his own self-loathing at "forcing" Jaskier to do things he couldn't possibly want to do with a monster like him 🙄 and from the opinion everyone else around them has of him. Jaskier would try to make him understand that he is very much willing, but Geralt's skull is thick and that would take some time for them to even be able to admit to themselves that they are in a relationship together. Of course having to keep up the act of the White Wolf and its pretty young prey would blur the lines in their relationship: what is an act and what is real? They both enjoy the roughness and the name-calling and the role play more than just for show. I think Jaskier too feels guilty about forcing sweet Geralt into it. Lots of guilt on both sides and no way to deal with it healthily in this violent, toxic environment.

I can see them managing to create a little bubble of happiness together though, despite the guards expecting Jaskier to keep Geralt on a leash and the inmates constantly poking at them to see if something gives. Once they get to talk and explain that they both very much want to be with each other outside of their farce, that, would the circumstances have been different, they would have asked the other on dates and had a sweet first kiss and maybe a house and a dog (not me crying about my own AU), they find a balance and a way to keep other people's venom from chipping at their love. Maybe they find allies too, jail can't be filled only with enemies after all...

As for why they are in jail for in the first place, I have to admit I hadn't settled on an explanation as I was writing it. I think Geralt has been set up by someone, probably Stregobor, because of an event similar to what happened in Blaviken? So while his "crimes" are not as bad as anything Jaskier might be imagining (and oh, imagine the angst potential of Jaskier torturing himself over what the man he is falling in love with could possibly have done to have end up in jail), he still sees himself as a monster who made the wrong choices and is not deserving of Jaskier's love.

For Jaskier, I'm not so sure, to be honest. What do you think he could be in for?

Although I am a sucker for angst, I couldn't survive a bad ending, but I don't have a clue on what could happen to them. They could escape, helped maybe by Eskel and Lambert on the outside, or some of Jaskier's shadiest friends; or Jaskier could find a way to have Geralt pardoned, and Stregobor in jail/killed at the same time, because that's what the fucker deserves.

I haven't heard of that story you talked about, but I'll make sure to check the documentary, it sounds very beautiful and heartbreaking. As I was writing the fic, I remembered that movie with Jim Carrey and Ewan McGregor, I Love You Phillip Morris, that I used to love as a kid. I might watch it again, for... Inspiration ;)

Thank you so much for your ask, and please, don't hesitate to assault my inbox again, it made my day! (Though I might have to add another WIP to the list now.... sigh)