#Jaskier is confused for a while

[ladyannemarie5]

Funny how Geralt always stayed on the sidelines with Jaskier's conquests for fear of a broken heart and yet he got a front row seat to watch the bard fall in love with the prince.

Geralt would cut the bard off when he started talking about the virtues of whatever man or woman he spent the night with, but he had no choice but to listen to Jaskier when he told him how the prince learned his song, because the poet appealed to their "best friends" bond.

Geralt smiled inwardly when the bard left his conquest for the night alone to go order him a bath and wash his hair with special soaps and oils after the hunts. And then the witcher had to witness Jaskier leaving him to go order Radovid a bath because "his long blond hair has never been anything less than perfect and cannot be left uncared for, Geralt." 

Geralt always distracted the bard with a story of past hauntings with terrifying creatures every time Jaskier began to compose a love song for his conquest, but nothing could distract the poet when he began to talk about how beautiful and bright Radovid's eyes were and how he wanted to find the perfect words to describe them. 

Geralt faked annoyance every time Jaskier asked to sleep next to him at night insinuating that he was too cold for a little bard. Geralt feigned relief when Jaskier told him that he would no longer bother him with that because he now slept with Radovid and his arms and fur blanket were more than warm. 

Geralt kept as much emotional distance as possible from the bard who approached him in a tavern in Posada so he wouldn't have to deal with a broken heart from falling in love with a human. 

But absolutely no distance in the world prepares him when that night while they were camping alone, Jaskier lying next to him and looking up at the stars, turns to him and says softly "I'm not in love with you anymore, Geralt. You don't have to act cautious around me anymore."

And Geralt can't say anything. Because he simply can't. He must have misheard, maybe the kikimore from earlier hit him too hard or something because there's no way, no world where Jaskier was in love with him. There's no way he would have wasted his chance. 

Jaskier, oblivious to the witcher's stupor, continues "I know I made you uncomfortable with my affections for you, I tried hard not to throw myself at you if I'm honest, but Radovid... I've fallen so much in love with Radovid that I'm ready to let you go. I'm sorry it took me so long to give you and Yenna peace."

Geralt looks up at the stars in silence, not believing what he just heard. Jaskier is about to turn away when Geralt takes his hand. He says nothing, just a simple squeeze. Jaskier breathes a sigh of relief, the witcher doesn't hate him for that, he doesn't ask him to leave as he had feared. Geralt is also relieved that he is no longer burdened with the bard's feelings. 

Geralt allows himself to hold his hand one last time. He allows himself a small luxury, so that he can silently mourn the loss of his bard and curse his own stupidity. Tomorrow he will watch as the bard is reunited with the prince, tomorrow he will watch with a broken heart as they embrace and the prince spins Jaskier in his arms, before kissing him and swearing eternal love. Tomorrow Geralt's heart breaks completely. 

But just for today, just for that night, he allows himself to take Jaskier's hand, draw him into his arms and breathe freely the scent of the man he has been in love with for over two decades. Just for that one night, Geralt allows himself to be happy.

----

I really love to make me cry ^^

[thelostgirl21]

Malec v.s. Radskier exhibit #3

The courtship display of a disaster bi/gay's very first attempt at seducing a highly confused potentially compatible mate...

Full video

[stangalina]

Jaskier has found a very effective method of diffusing tense situations involving Geralt and the various dimwitted and judgemental humans they're forced to interact with.

Unfortunately, enacting this method has about a fifteen percent chance of earning him a knee to the sternum afterwards.

Though it is usually worth the risk, since this method works one hundred percent of the time.

The method is thus:

Sit on him.

It works like a charm.

Allow me to elaborate.

It's very difficult to be scared of someone, no matter how intimidating their features or bone-chilling their stare, when they just sit still and do not question a fully grown man flopping down onto their lap. It does wonders for a tense prejudiced atmosphere inside a tavern. Given, the mood only changes from tense to confused. But confused isn't planning to stone them both out of town so he'd consider it a win.

Getting to sit on Geralt's leather clad and very impressive thighs is also a win in of itself, obviously. The knee to the gut only comes if he pushes his luck or gets too handsy.

Different variants of this method also work. Such as wrapping himself around Geralt's abdomen like a stray piece of seaweed so the merchant will stop looking like he's about to piss himself and actually catch his breath long enough to sell them something.

Murmurs of Witchers being infested with infectious diseases can be silenced by Jaskier grasping Geralt's chin while talking to him in a show of feigned annoyance. Perhaps a gentle touch to the cheek if he's feeling tender, or a light tap on the nose to be playful.

Depending on how Geralt is feeling, he will either ignore Jaskier, or play along. It doesn't matter which one he chooses, as the method still works either way.

It's the people equivalent of putting a collar on a wolfhound and having its lead be held in the mouth of a perfectly groomed poodle wearing boots and a waistcoat. No less dangerous. But a hell of a lot less intimidating.

And if Jaskier is secretly using this method as an excuse to get Geralt more comfortable with physical contact for totally innocent reasons, then that's nobody's business but his own.

[gwentbleidd]

the concept of geralt being painfully unaware and making everything confusing is so funny tbh. i mean, imagine the situation:

literally everyone thinks that geralt and jaskier are together. everyone. except geralt.

why? well.

tb to that one time when lambert was making fun of him because 'oh geralt you look like shit, you didn't sleep well last nigh, huh?' so geralt answers, like it's nothing, 'no, jaskier kept me up all night', making lambert choke. to be fair, geralt agrees that listening to jaskier singing his stupid little songs till white morning wasn’t a nice experience. even if lambert is being overdramatic about it.

then some other time, a woman offers him and jaskier to spend the night at her inn while they're on the path. it's true that nights are getting colder but oh, geralt is used to it and so he explains 'no. thank you, but i sleep with the bard'. he doesn't know why the woman goes red in the face, why she starts to stutter and doesn't look geralt in the face anymore. weird but okay, not his problem.

it happens so many times until someone eventually points it out to geralt.

it's even funnier when he AND jaskier are confused after that, just for entirely different reasons

yennefer: no, geralt. enough. you need to stop making people think you and jaskier are together

geralt: what?, we're not together.

jaskier: we aRE NOT????

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 15

Jaskier realizes that when Geralt comes back from a hunt, pent up, eyes black, still snarling and panting like a beast, the only thing that helps is cuddling him. He hugs him, and runs his hands through Geralt's hair, and gently washes him with a rag and hushes words into his ear, and it helps bring Geralt back down. Sometimes he wakes up to Geralt coming back from a late-night hunt and immediately grabbing Jaskier's waist and yoINking him into Geralt's bedroll so they can snuggle. It's cute. And Jaskier certainly has no complaints.

Jaskier tries to ask him about it one time, but all it earns him is a "Shut up, Bard." and Geralt acting weird the rest of the day. Maybe he's embarrassed? Jaskier doesn't know why. He has no idea what the potions must feel like to Geralt, perhaps he truly needs the warmth and mass of a person in order to not want to rip his own hair out or scratch off his own skin or something else? So he's just fine with hugging his beefcake of a bestie (of whom he may be completely head over heels in love with) if it means keeping some awful ailment at bay. And he believes this for at least a decade, before he meets Geralt's brothers. Don't get him wrong, they're lovely people! But one day, an exceptionally difficult hunt calls for all three of them to go together and leave Jaskier at camp. Jaskier is a bit concerned over how he'll comfort all three of them at once, but when they come back, he finds that Geralt is suddenly ignoring him, and Lambert and Eskel are acting normal, if not just very exhausted. Jaskier pulls Lambert aside and asks him why they're not itching to hug him, and Lambert is very confused. Jaskier explains that usually Geralt needs to hold him in order to deal with the after-effects of his potions. Lambert explains that's not a normal witcher thing, and that Geralt probably just likes him, but he explains it in his own lovely lambert-y way, meaning it's mostly just laughing hysterically at his big brother catching feelings for some bratty noisemaker in silk (He likes Jaskier! It's just... Not what he saw Geralt going for.) Jaskier tries to talk to Geralt about it, but Geralt stops him from even walking close to him, and walks farther off as extra salt in the wound. It's like he can't even bear to be around Jaskier. It hurts a bit. Jaskier asks Eskel if Geralt took different potions or has a toxin of some sort i him that makes him behave like this instead of the normal, and then explains everything Lambert told him. Eskel agrees that it sounds like him just being comforted by the feeling of his mate safe and sound next to him, and that they've never seen Geralt like that. Jaskier is confused, because surely Geralt doesn't feel the same way, right? sURPRISE SECOND ATTACK! THE MONSTER RETURNS! OH NOOOOO Anyways, It slashes the shit out of Jaskier's arm, or perhaps chest, I don't know, whichever wound strikes your fancy, and the witchers go after it, but as soon as the beast is killed, Geralt rushes to Jaskier, and holds him close. The others try to walk over to help patch Jaskier up only to get growled at by their own brother. So now Lambert and Eskel are playing rock paper scissors on the ground over who REALLY got the final hit on the beast while Geralt sits 12 feet away from them, mending his bard. He growls at them if they look at Jaskier and him too long. A while later, he's off the high of the potions and adrenaline combined, and the witchers sure are going to have a field day lovingly making fun of their brother over this. But first, Jaskier and Geralt need to have a heartfelt talk. ♡!Optional addons!♡

• Big bonus points for a sequel or additional chapter of Lambert starting to act the same way over Aiden (or other ship of your choice, but Lambert and Aiden are my bread and butter lol)

[petew21-blog]

Great Shift stories, Henry and Joey

Paparazzi:"Gentlemen, smile. Look to the right. Yeah. Good"

Henry and Joey were at the front of the hall, where the press conference was about to be held, before the release of the new Witcher season. They were all instructed to suit up and arrive. Henry felt like he was betraying Joey. They were about to announce soon, that he was leaving the Witcher TV series and passing the role to Liam Hemsworth. Henry didn't want to continue playing Geralt if the story wouldn't be more faithful to the books. Unfortunately, Joey already signed his contract and therefore had to play Jaskier for another year without Henry.

They stood next to each other. Joey couldn't pretend that he was happy. He was angry, because Henry didn't tell him soon enough how he felt and that he was leaving, trapping Joey in a job he started to hate. He felt betrayed

Back then nobody knew what happened in the following moments. Maybe it was an accident. Maybe it was intentional. But all they knew was that suddenly all around them was pure chaos. The whole city confused and screaming. Most of the planet swapped bodies with someone standing close to them. Some were very unlucky, in some cases the swap was lethal or caused many people to die. But some people got really lucky. Just like Joey and Henry here

They were obviously both shocked when they found themselves in each other's bodies. But they were interrupted by the people around them screaming and shouting at each other.

Joey in Henry's body:"Henry? Is that you? I'm you!"

Henry in Joey's body:"Is this real? Is it really happening?"

Joey:"I think it is. And I don't think we're the only ones. Maybe we should go somewhere more quiet."

Joey starts walking away, but as soon as Henry moves his body a sharp pain shoots from the back of his body.

Henry:"Ah fuck. Wait. There's something wrong. It feels like..."

Joey started smiling, realising.

Henry didn't find the pain that bad anymore and was slowly figuring out, what it was.

Henry:"Joey? Is that what I think it is?"

Joey:"I don't know what you're talking about"

Henry started laughing at his old face

Henry:"Hahahaha. No you didn't. Holy shit you're naughty, Joey. You really went to a press con with a dildo up your ass? Wow. I never thought that you'd be able to do this."

Joey:"Maybe we should go?"

Henry:"Oh fuck, we are. I really need to take a proper look at that thing stuck inside of me now "

Joey went first and couldn't stop smiling, as he heard Henry struggling to walk properly

But Henry was getting more and more into it. He never had a dildo up his ass. And this one was BIG.

They got into an empty hotel room nearby.

Joey went to the bathroom first to piss and left Henry outside. Henry started throwing his clothes off to the ground. But stopped, once he felt the thing in him move. He got on his knees and felt his own ass trying to push it in and out. An overwhelming feeling caused him to moan out loud and hold ok tightly to the bed sheets.

He heard the bathroom door open

Joey:"You wanna use the bathroom?"

Henry got up and without saying a word went to the bathroom while grabbing his old body's cheeks playfully on the way.

He wanted to look at himself in the mirror, but he needed the dildo to move. He needed to find a better position. But another unwanted movement caused him to collapse into the bath still in his clothes.

He just sat there leaning on the edges of the bath, moving his ass up and down in the air. Causing the dildo to move up and down. He was now covered in sweat. His body was begging to be fucked

Joey:"You need some help with that?" He pointed at his ass

Henry needed to be fucked. And there was a thing much better than the dildo in his ass

He leaned to the front and grabbed his old semi-hard bulge looking seductively into his old eyes

Henry:"Whip it out big boy. You got a hole to patch. And I need it"

Joey:"Are you sure you..."

Henry:"Fuck me right now!!!"

Joey threw off his pants and boxers. Leaving himself in Henry's Grey shirt only

Henry:"I want you to show me how you can be better than that dildo"

Joey:"I'm not really sure about this"

Henry:"Please just fuck me already. I can't take this anymore"

Joey helped Henry to take off his clothes. He turned him around to let him hold the edge of the bath. He then grabbed the base off the dildo and started moving it up and down rythmically. Henry was moaning in pleasure. No, he was screaming

As soon as Joey got hard, he pulled out the dildo and showed his new huge dick into his old ass. Henry couldn't even tell the difference. But now it was warmer, pulsating. And Joey was pounding him.

They were now one. Combined. Sweaty. Joey was deep inside of Henry moving his intestines.

Henry:"Ah ah ah ah. Fuck me... I need you"

Joey couldn't hold it anymore, he pulled out his new dick and shoot the load at his old back.

He was breathing rapidly from the fast tempo. Henry was still holding on. But Joey moved his head to the side and noticed his old dick leaking cum

Joey smiled. Yeah, fuck the betrayal. He's gonna be punishing him for that very often from now own.

Anonymous inbox request:

What about the great shift strikes. And everyone is swapped with the closest person at the moment. A story where henry cavill gets swapped with joey batey before some press con. And henry finds that joey's body has a dildo up his ass and he's so turned up that he begs joey to fuck him.

[bluedillylee]

He didn’t come back

Friends come back

Art inspiration and reference this artist has a really impressive skill with color and I love their painterly style. This was a challenge for me to see if I could mimic the way they paint and I’m really proud of how it turned out.

[ID: In his red doublet from the dragon hunt Jaskier wipes tears from his eyes as he looks at the viewer. The look on his face is torn between sadness and anger. end ID]

my thoughts on Jaskier below the cut

From what we know from season 2 Jaskier finished writing Her Sweet Kiss after the mountain and then The Golden One and Burn Butcher Burn after that. How I interpret that is Jaskier was hurt by what Geralt said but not heartbroken. He took the time to continue composing and neither Her Sweet Kiss or The Golden One are angry songs. It’s just Burn Butcher Burn thats full of anger.

I mean he’s in his forties by then and has known Geralt for many years. I think while its not fun to be yelled at by your friend he would understand that it was an outburst born from heartbreak. I think he expected Geralt to come back and then Jaskier would shout at him a bit for taking his feelings out on him and then they’d make up and continue on.

I think he was far more hurt that Geralt didn’t come back and try to say sorry for yelling at him. To him it would feel like his friendship wasn’t even worth trying to keep. I am confused a bit about the timeline of the mountain to Geralt looking for Cirilla but i am assuming there was gap of time big enough that Geralt could have sought out Jaskier but didn’t.

Anyways that’s where I think Burn Butcher Burn was born. When Jaskier realizes that Geralt isn’t coming back and Jaskier is wasting his time waiting for him. That’s when i think he got angry and felt heartbroken.

[viking-raider]

A Witcher's Soul

Summary: When tragedy strikes, Geralt of Rivia seeks comfort in the arms of one woman.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warning: PG - Abandonment Issues, Child Abandonment, Fluff Parental Loss, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Memories, Bathing, Love Confession, Soft!Geralt, Character's Death

Inspiration: This scene from Season Three of the Witcher! 😭

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!

Geralt rode Roach hard, only deviating from his path to guide the powerful black horse around a tree or rock. He gripped the worn brown reins tightly, feeling them cut into the top of his bare hands as he urged Roach to move faster, foam already starting to gather around his bit. The Witcher's mind raced, desperately trying to push down the power of the news he received from a good friend, while trying to help someone he'd found on the job. He struggled for a few days, trying to push it down, telling himself it didn't hurt.

She had left him almost a century ago, at this point.

Witchers had no emotions, he told himself, as a means to drive them back. It didn't work however, the emotions continued to smash into him.

So, he left in the dead of night, not a word to Anika, Otto, or even Jaskier, of where he was going or why. Though, he was sure Anika would know why. Geralt covered almost a whole league by the end of morning, cutting through the forest outside of Murivel, until he reached a modest clearing and an even more modest, three-room hut constructed in the middle of it, a stone and clay well on the left side, the bucket swaying softly in the breeze.

Roach came to a hard stop, hooves cutting deep grooves in the grassy earth, with Geralt wasting no time in dismounting the stallion and stomping across the yard to the front door. His sore and broken heart rose up with hope that it would swing open and the face of the one he was seeking would appear, to greet him. But, the door didn't open to him, instead he was greeted another way.

“Geralt!” A soft and confused voice called out.

He swung around on his boot heels, his golden eyes zeroing in on you as you stood just passed the tree-line, a basket of herbs and mushrooms balanced on your hip, as you regarded the Witcher. You hadn't seen Geralt in over a year, since he decided he needed to go to Cintra to make sure Ciri was safe from the sea of black and gold he'd seen on the Amell Pass. After the Dragon Hunt. You had heard the thunder of the new Roach's hooves coming up the path to your home, while you were gathering in the forest, and came to see who it was. You were surprised to see Geralt in general, but you were worried by how rushed he seemed.

“Geralt, what's amiss?” You asked, coming to close the gap between you. “Are you well?” You inquired, seeing the unusually deep crease between his brow and across his forehead, and how his complexion was paler, almost matching his hair.

Geralt took a deep breath through his nose, lips pressed together for a moment, working up the strength to speak. “I need you.” He finally rasped, his expression breaking into something soft and vulnerable.

“You rode all the way from wherever, just for time with me?” You smirked, tisking.

“Please.” Geralt replied, reaching out to grasp your free hand and squeezing it, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, his expression breaking even more.

You frowned at him, all jest dying inside of you, seeing his wall fall before you and the pain he was being crushed underneath. “Let's go inside.” You whispered softly, tilting your head towards your door.

Nodding, Geralt reached out for your basket, but shaking your head and swatting it away gently, you pushed the front door open and put your hand on his arm, guiding him inside. You set your basket on a large table and turned towards the just as large fireplace, grabbing wood from the dog grate and tossed it in. Building it back up, sparks flying up the chimney. You moved to Geralt, who stood motionless beside the table, taking his hand and guided him over to the chair at the head of the table, gently coaxing him to sit down, then knelt before him. Grabbing the heel of his boot and his calf, you tugged the muddy, black leather off and set it underneath the table, followed by its twin. There was dust and mud covering his black clothing. You brushed your palm over his knee and thigh, casting some of it off, before standing up again and starting for the next room, only to have Geralt grasp your wrist and pull you into his lap. His arms wrapped around your shoulders as he buried his face into your chest, and breathed deep.

You frowned at him, sympathetically brushing your fingers through his hair and pulling it free of its usual tie, his white strands cascading over his shoulders. You nosed the top of his head, caressing the back of his hair and squeezing his bicep, still confused as to why he was there and what was ailing him so much.

“Geralt.” You whispered into his strands. “Tell me, what's happened?” You asked, your fingertips brushing the back of his neck. “Did you not make it to Ciri in time? Has something happened to her or Jaskier?” You inquired, licking your lips as your heart thundered against his forehead. “I noticed that isn't the Roach you had the last time you were here.” You pointed out, remembering the sweet Chestnut you used to feed and brush, when Geralt stayed with you, but now there was a sturdy black stallion standing in your dooryard.

He shook his head and cleared his throat. “No, they're both fine.” He rasped, turning his head to rest his temple against your collarbone. “As for the last Roach, she was killed by a Chernobog, a few months ago.” He added, softly.

“Oh, I'm so sorry.” You cooed, tucking his hair behind his ear. “Then, what's the matter with my Wolf?”

He was still and quiet again, for a long time, his fingers restlessly toying with the strings at the back of your bodice, before suddenly standing with you still in his arms, and turning to sit you on the chair in his place. He went out the door, rounding the house to the well and dropped the bucket to the bottom. You watched Geralt come back inside with each bucket, holding it in one hand, like it was the weight of one of his swords. Pausing in the open doorway and giving you a hard stare every time, as if he expected to find you moved off the chair or vanished completely. Only then, did he go to your large cauldron, dumping the full bucket in and returning back outside for another.

“Are you going to tell me, what's the matter, Geralt?” You asked, your concern only mounting with his bizarre behavior and irregular moodiness.

“Nothing.” He grunted harshly, setting the cauldron over the fire to boil.

“That's a lie.” You answered, just as sharply, being one of the few people on the Continent brave enough to talk back to the White Wolf in such a manner; other than Jaskier and Ciri. “You wouldn't have come from the bum fuck of Nilfgaard to see me, if something wasn't bothering you.” You insisted, glaring at his back.

Geralt ignored you, heading towards the back rooms of your home and leaving you more worried and annoyed at his behavior. He came back a few minutes later with no shirt on, and your suspicions on his task were answered. Despite what the people of the great Continent thought of Geralt of Rivia, he did not in fact like smelling of death, blood and horse. When he stopped for the winter at Kaer Morhen or with you, he bathed regularly. He just found it more a nuisance to do so while on the Trail, since the next Contract or sleeping rough would only dirty him up again.

Pulling the roiling cauldron off the fire, Geralt carried it to the large, soaking tub you boosted in your bathroom. He filled it almost to the brim, before adding in Lavender and Sage bath salts to the steaming water. A fragrant haze filled the room as he tugged his pants off and tossed them over a chair in the corner. He strode out of the bathroom, returning to you, still sitting where he'd left you. He took your hand and helped you stand, untying the strings of your bodice and tugging down your dress, so it pooled around your feet, before slipping his arm under your knees and an arm around your shoulders, scooping you up against his chest.

You sighed softly, wrapping your arms around his neck, while he carried you to the bathroom. “I missed you.” You whispered into his ear, as he stepped into the tub, lowering you both into it.

“And I, you.” Geralt replied, holding you in his lap and resting back. “Ciri and Jaskier are well, by the way.” He said, his fingertips stroking the skin of your side, beneath the water. “Ciri is being watched over by Yennefer, who's helping her try and control her magic and Jaskier was with Anika, last I left him.”

“Anika?” You frowned, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “Why is Julian with Anika? If he's well.”

Geralt's thick, scarred arms squeezed around you, almost painfully, making you squirm in his lap. “You remember my mother.” He mumbled, barely audible. “Visenna.” He said so quietly, you had to strain to hear it.

“Yes, I recall you telling me of her, a few years after we met.” You murmured, seeing the strained expression on his face. “And that you'd seen her at Sodden Hill. She healed you, after the ghoul bite.”

“I remember bits of my life with my Ma.” He rasped, his grasp on you loosening, but he still held you close to him. “She smelled like embers, from keeping our measly fires alive during the long nights.” He told you, the crease between his golden eyes slowly vanishing as he went back to that time, tapping into that abandoned little boy, he had never grown out of, but skillfully concealed from those he didn't cherish. “We were quite poor, even though she was skilled as a healer. So, she-” He paused, his voice thickening and his throat bobbing as he swallowed.

You looked up at him, seeing the redness in the whites of his eyes and the unshed tears threatening on his lashes. It frightened you to see the Witcher like this. In the fifteen years you'd known him, you'd seen him in many states, but you had never seen Geralt cry. Reaching up, you cupped his scruffy cheek in your hand and thumbed a droplet away, pressing your lips to his jawline.

“She would use her magic to create the most elaborate meals that we couldn't afford.” He continued, tilting his head into your hand. “There was—I would have done anything to make her smile. And yet,” He voice broke again, this time with more than just hurt and abandonment, but with resentment. “The day she left me, she was sick. She needed some water, so I went to get her some, and when I came back to the road...she was gone.” He croaked, pushing his jaw forward and shaking his head, trying to deny the burn of more tears.

His fingertips pressed into the skin of your side and back. “I called for her.” He said weakly, his golden eyes off in the distance. “But she was gone.” He whimpered, the tears finally winning out, dripping off his jaw and into your hair and the bath water.

You squeezed your eyes shut, pressing your forehead to his neck and hugging your arms around his torso. You had known Visenna had abandoned Geralt. He had told you that bluntly not long after you had met. The torture of her leaving him there, to be taken away to Kaer Morhen, where he'd suffered such agony in his transformation into a Witcher, at just five years old, coupled with the pain he never got over with his mother.

You wondered how Geralt had survived at all.

But no, Geralt was strong, even from a young age.

“She's dead.”

You pulled out of your thoughts, shocked. “She's dead?”

“She was giving aid to some villager and was mistaken as an Elf.” Geralt told you, bringing a hand out of the water to wipe it over his face. “They beat her severely and she later died, at the Temple of Mourning, where Anika was. Which is how I found out.”

“I'm so sorry, Geralt.” You cooed, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth, connecting the dots to his arrival. “I hope the two of you were able to make some sort of easement between you, when you last met.”

Geralt pressed his lips together and buried his face into your hair, his throat too tight to speak in the moment. He considered how he and Visenna last met, in the forest outside of Sodden Hill, as he laid feverish and hallucinating from a Ghoul bite to the leg. After saving a poor Merchant, who was trying to bury the dead from a camp Nilfgaard had attacked. At first, she had tried to conceal her identity from him, pretending to be Renfri, Yennefer and finally, you, before he managed to discover who it really was. Triggered by her belief that, People linked by Destiny, will always find each other.

He asked her what she thought of his eyes. Demanding to know, if she knew what they did to improve a Witcher's eyes. Telling her that it didn't always work. She had begged him to stop. Calling him by his name, only for Geralt to reject her right to do so, like she had rejected him. He had begged to know if she knew how many boys actually made it through the Trials. Tears filled both of their eyes as they stared at each other in the darkness.

In the end, his Ma had left him, again, fading into the night, trying to convince him she was just a dream and he would never get the answer he wanted.

So, had he made peace with his mother abandoning him, forcing him on the Path of the Witcher?

No. Geralt decided in the end, he had not.

The only thing Geralt did know was he wanted you. You were the first person he had thought of, upon finding out about his mother's death. Wanting to feel you against him and needing the comfort only you were able to provide. You shifted out of Geralt's lap, moving around him, while reaching over the side of the tub, grabbing the small cup that sat on the foot board there. Dipping it into the water and gently pouring it over Geralt's silvery-white strands, you set aside and took up a round, solid bar of honey and chamomile scented soap, using it to work his hair into a rich lather. Geralt moaned, feeling your fingers massage his scalp, resting forward to prop his elbows on his bent knees, eyes falling shut.

“I love you.” He murmured, quietly.

You stopped, resting your hands on his broad shoulders. “You've never said that before.” You said, looking around at him, mouth softly agape.

“No?” Geralt rasped, cocking a brow over his shoulder at you.

“Not once, in all these years.” You assured him, your hand gently massaging the scarred muscle of his neck.

He turned to you, causing the cooling water to slosh over the edge. “Then, I have a great deal of making up to do.” He cooed, reaching out to cup your face in his rough palm. “Because I do. I love you. Out of everyone, besides perhaps Jaskier and Vesemir, you know me better than anyone, and no one has ever taken better care of me than you have.” He told you, his face betraying the emotions a Witcher truly had, but guarded for their most treasured person, and not those of an abandoned child, rather those of a man in love.

“I love you too, Geralt.” You assured him, turning your head to kiss his hand. “And I will always care for you, me bleidd.” You whispered, picking up the cup to continue washing his hair.

[thedemonofcat]

Once, early in their travels together, Jaskier had asked Geralt about Kaer Morhen and if he could ever visit.

To make him stop talking, Geralt had said Jaskier could only go if he found it by himself. At the time, Geralt believed that was impossible.

Later, while Geralt and Ciri were at Kaer Morhen, a long time had passed since Geralt last saw Jaskier. Occasionally, Geralt would hear news about Nilfgaard conquering new places, particularly when he heard about Lettenhove being destroyed.

His concern deepened when, the next day, Eskel arrived at the front gate, dragging a half-frozen and nearly unconscious, confused Jaskier, who had been wandering around the mountain for days, looking for a safe place to stay.

[senseless-writing]

Mountain Top Confessions

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x child!reader

Summary: Taking place in S1.E6, the little girl that Geralt took under his wing all those years ago isn't so little anymore. After overhearing something she wasn't supposed to while he and Yennefer argued about the quest to find the golden dragon, the witcher is forced to have a conversation with Orion that he'd been hoping to push off for as long as possible.

Warnings: Hurt feelings, talk of regret, death, etc. Really nothing much

A/N: Here's a story for a trope that's not in demand that nobody asked for, and yet I couldn't help but write! I actually wrote this forever ago and completely forgot about it, but I saw it today and thought I should share it even if it's only in self-service. Lemme know what you think!

Just so you know, this story exists within the world of the other Witcher stories I've written with the oc!character Orion. There are some references to those stories or Orion's life with Geralt in general, but I don't think it's completely necessary to read anything to understand this one.

Masterlist

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

“Did you mean it? What you said to Yennefer?” 

Geralt sighed, his entire body sagging with the release. After his fight with the enraging sorceress who always seemed to find a way under his skin, he had no energy left for anything more. Least of all a defiant tween. 

He turned to look at Orion, who was stepping out from behind the tree from which she was hiding. The Witcher blamed his scattered emotions for the failing of his normally heightened senses. 

“You weren’t supposed to hear any of that…I told you to stay with Jaskier.”

“But did you mean it?” She asked again, stoically, without meeting his gaze. Geralt couldn’t tell what was going through her head. These days, he never could. 

When Orion was little, and her favorite place in the whole world was Geralt’s arms, the witcher didn’t have to worry about finding the right words to say. All he had to do was hold her, and it was like anything and everything that worried her little head would disappear. 

At first, Geralt detested this part of guardianship. It made him feel like a witcher turned cuddler and coddler, and he could feel Vesemir’s disapproving glare from all the way across the Continent. After giving it some thought, though, he figured it was probably for the best. Those who truly knew him knew how verbose he could be, but witty remarks and philosophical ponderings never meant too much to a six year old. 

But now his Orion was twelve. Her eyes were forever wide, never shutting for the fear of missing something worth learning. And she had so many questions that Geralt alone was in charge of answering. He couldn’t wrap her in his arms anymore and pretend the Continent wasn’t confusing or dangerous. He owed her answers, and she deserved his words. 

Geralt hesitated for only a moment. The truth was unfortunate and uncomfortable, and he’d hoped to not have any conversations resembling the one they were about to have until she was older. But it was too late for that now, and he wouldn’t lie to her. 

“Yes.”

Before he could so much as explain, Orion was already rushing away, quickening her steps to meet up with the rest of the group. 

“Wait-”

She didn’t listen.

“Orion. Wait!”

He jogged forward, grabbing her arm and twisting her around to face him. She ripped herself from his grasp at once. Her face was stone cold, but still present were the hints of a curled top lip and the flash of barred teeth.

She looked so much like him when she did that. It nearly made his head spin. 

He cocked his head to the side a little, a warning for her to check her attitude. She didn’t take it.

“Will you let me explain?” he said with an even tone. 

“Explain what? That you regret taking me in?" The powerful rage in Orion's voice was not enough to mask what Geralt knew was lying underneath: deep, overwhelming hurt. "Well, you know what, no one held a knife to your throat and made you! If you didn’t want me, you should’ve done something about it!”

“That is not what I said.”

“You said-”

“Orion!” he shouted, and the child’s mouth clamped shut at once. She could count on one hand the amount of time he’s raised his voice at her. “What I said was that taking you in taught me, more than anything else, that raising a child is not something to be taken lightly. It’s a lesson that Yennefer could benefit from learning.”

The girl bit her lip and wrapped her arms tightly around her middle. “You said raising me taught you that your life isn't suited to a child. That implies regret.” 

“I do have regrets,” he agreed, and he noticed the flicker of insecurity in her gaze. He felt like an ass for putting it there. “Do you want to know why?” 

Orion stayed silent, and he suspected she didn’t want to know at all. He was going to tell her anyway. 

He spoke his next words very softly. “Every minute of every day, I regret not being able to give you the life you deserve.” 

That clearly wasn’t the answer she was expecting. He could tell from the immediate wrinkle of her brow. 

“What?”

He sighed again, averting his eyes to the group behind her. They were making a steady pace up the mountain. And Jaskier, with his slightly codependent nature, kept turning back every few steps to check on his travel companions. Apparently, their yelling was loud enough to attract the attention of even the loudest of bards. 

Their eyes locked, and Geralt nodded once to let him know that everything was alright. Or, at the very least, that it would be. Jaskier didn’t look convinced, but he gave a defeated shrug and turned back around to continue walking. The witcher hesitantly directed his eyes back to Orion, who seemed to be frozen in a state of confusion. 

“Geralt, I don’t understand any of this.” 

“Our life on the path isn’t normal, Orion. You think it is, because it’s all you’ve ever known, but it’s not.”

“I know tha-”

“No, you don’t. You grew up hiding from monsters that most humans never see in their lifetime. By the age of eight, you were well versed in the art of ignoring those on the streets who throw stones as you walk by. And that's…that's not a reflection on you, it’s a reflection on me.”

“But-”

“I’m not telling you this to make you feel bad about the cards you’ve been dealt. It’s the same way I was raised, it’s all I know. But witchers are a dwindling species for a reason, and the last thing I wanted was to make you a part of our ranks. I never wanted you to be like me.” 

“But I did! I’ve always wanted to be like you.”

Geralt wasn’t sure how to respond to that. He opened his mouth to try, but all that came out was a confused grunt. With a tilted head and lifted brow, the witcher sat there in silence as he struggled to understand. 

How was it possible that after all this time, his sweet, open-hearted Orion still didn’t believe what he knew to be true? He wasn’t the man she thought he was, and the longer she failed to realize that, the longer she would spend wandering blind in the dark. 

Orion took a few steps closer until they were an arms length away. It always shocked the witcher when he noticed how big she had gotten, how much she had changed from the little girl he used to know. “Geralt, people throw rocks at us because they’re afraid of what they don’t understand. You’re the one who told me that.”

“I did, didn’t I?” he averted his eyes. “What was I thinking?” 

Orion’s lips lifted in half a smile.“And people die everyday because they don’t know how to hide from monsters. Most humans don’t even recognize the signs for when one is around. I have a leg up on all of them.” 

“But you wouldn’t be around monsters as often as you are if it wasn't for me.” 

“I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you,” she reminded him sharply. “If you hadn’t found me, I’d probably still be sitting at the entrance of Kaer Morhen. A pile of bones withering to dust.” 

“Don’t say that!” Geralt snapped. His sudden change in tone shocked Orion to her very core, as it was a fiery anger that she'd never before heard directed at her. His eyes were wild and rabid as he stared at her, his entire body tense and shaking. To her, it was an extremely paradoxical image; he'd somehow managed to look terrified and terrifying at the same time.

The witcher had to squeeze his fists to stop himself from saying something he might regret. It wasn’t Orion he was mad at. If anything, it was himself.

Because the idea of his child going through a life-or-death situation should have been something he could only imagine. It should have been a distant nightmare, something that tortured his sleep but eased away once he awoke and realized it was only a figment of his imagination. 

Except that it wasn’t. Not for him. Orion had looked death in the eyes more than he could possibly count, and Geralt was the one leading her directly to it. 

“Don’t,” he repeated again in a clipped tone. “Don’t say things like that. You’re here with me because I made a choice. And while I may regret the implications of that choice, don't ever insinuate, even for a second, that I don’t want my child.” 

Orion was used to him calling her his. And she was, in all the ways that mattered. But it was always still a shock to her heart when he did. 

If Geralt noticed her reaction, he didn’t show it. “You needed me, and I made a choice,” he continued on. “Just as I made a choice to not do the same with my child surprise.” 

Oh, the infamous child surprise. From the little Orion knew, the whole thing ranked somewhere high on Geralt’s top ten list of the stupidest things he’s ever done. 

She wouldn’t pretend to understand why he was so insistent on ignoring the existence of someone he was connected to. “What if they need you too one day?” she asked. “What then?”

“He’s a prince of the largest and fiercest kingdom in all the North. He’s got people pleading for the honor of wiping his arse. I doubt he needs the help of a lowly witcher.” 

Or she, Orion thought absently. And perhaps a little dreamily. What luck it would be if Geralt was tied to a princess.

“Kingdoms fall everyday, Geralt. You also said that.” 

“Let's stop using my words against me, yeah? I’ll have to start keeping track of what I say around you.” 

Orion didn’t respond, staring back at him with an expectant glare. 

“Orion,” he leveled with her. “If Cintra falls, he’ll have dozens of people whose sole responsibility is to take the sword for him. He’ll be alright.” 

“And you’re sure of that?” Orion implored. “You can sleep peacefully at night knowing that maybe, just maybe, there’s a kid out there who might one day be as helpless as I was? A kid that, unlike me, is entitled to your protection?” 

“The only person entitled to my protection is you.” 

They were at a stand still, and after a moment of nothing but silence and a gentle breeze passing between them, Orion decided to let it go. She didn’t even berate him for ignoring her question. Because truly, she knew the answer already. She knew that every night, when he thought she was asleep, he rose and paced in circles for hours on end. The sound of him incessantly cleaning his swords had become white noise for her throughout the night. In fact, Orion couldn’t remember the last time she actually saw him sleep; really sleep, that is. Because Geralt wasn’t nearly as much of a master at pretending as he thought he was. 

So instead, all she did was try and direct the conversation back to its original topic. If Geralt wanted to be pig headed about the situation he put himself in, then fine. That wasn’t her main concern. 

At least, not right now it wasn’t. 

“Okay, well,” she sighed, struggling to change subjects without making it sound awkward. Suddenly, this whole conversation felt awkward. She felt stupid for being insecure, and she felt even more stupid for bringing up Cintra when she knew he’d shut down. “You don’t have to worry about not giving me the ‘life I deserve,’ or whatever it is you regret. I quite like the one I have.” 

Geralt remembers her saying something to that effect before. She’s probably said it a number of times by now. But it never mattered, never meant anything real to him. It felt too comparable to a mutt saying that it quite liked its cage. 

So he stayed silent. That alone spoke volumes to Orion. 

“You’re never going to believe me, are you?” she groaned with an exasperated tone. “No matter what I say?” 

He gave her an honest look. “It’s not likely.”

Orion surged forward at once, crashing into his chest with a resounding thud. The witcher barely had time to catch himself, but even as he took a step back to regain his balance, his arms were firmly wrapped around her. 

This wasn’t at all how he imagined this conversation going. He could’ve sworn she was mad at him not ten seconds ago. 

She smushed her face tight to his side, and Geralt strained to hear what she said next. “Can you at least try to understand that I want to be here? With you?”

It’s bothering her, he thought to himself as he rested his chin on her head. And she’s too stubborn to let it go. 

“Can you try to understand that I want you here?” he answered her question with one of his own. 

He felt her nod against his chest, which he supposed was enough. Though truth be told, Geralt wasn’t much for changing. 

And unfortunately, neither was Orion. 

He would never forgive himself for his shortcomings. Day after day, mistake after mistake, Geralt looked back and saw all the ways that he could’ve done better at raising her. He wasn’t used to failing at a job; Vesemir had raised him better than that. And in his eyes, caring for the girl in front of him was the ultimate job. 

But he hadn’t been prepared for it. 

And Orion would never be able to ignore the feeling that a part of them was missing. A part of Geralt, really. It was something he refused to acknowledge, refused to accept. It would gnaw at him forever until he did, and the idea of that continued to gnaw at her. 

This painful circle of lies where one swallowed their truth for the sake of the other was tense and never ending, and it was difficult to pretend that they both weren’t craving something that they desperately needed. For Geralt, a chance to start over. A chance to give Orion the family she should’ve had from the beginning, the one he ripped her from when they left Kaer Morhen. And for Orion, something that would ease Geralt’s mind once and for all. 

Years ago, on that day they’d met one another, each of them had been given something new. A different life, a fresh start. It was all they needed back then. But not anymore. 

Ignoring it would get them nowhere. It was clear now, even if neither of them could voice it, that something else was needed. 

Something more.

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

(A/N: This ending is definitely catered towards the book fans out there haha)

[thelostgirl21]

When you realize that Prince Radovid attended his sister-in-law's fucking funerals with his glass of wine.

Literally, Radovid's whole coping strategy at court...

I'm starting to think he's got pockets inside that cloak to hide glasses and bottles...

Then, there's the fact that even when he's not downright hiding in a corner somewhere, he'll apparently choose a spot to stand where he'll just... blend in with the freaking decor!

Yes! A red banner flanked by two brown walls with golden highlights... Perfect!

He's basically a Wallflower that fell in love with a Buttercup, I swear!

Also, I've just noticed that little step back and bow he makes with his head when Yennefer curtsies as she approaches the king in the first gif, while King Vizimir doesn't even acknowledge the gesture at all.

So now, I imagine Radovid being the kind of king that will just bow back to everyone bowing to him because it seems like the polite and courteous thing to do.

At some point, we'll just learn that he was so bad at "being a prince" that he never really bothered learning the proper court etiquette and customs himself. He's just always gone with whatever people seemed most comfortable with, and copied them to a slightly lesser extend.

You want us to hold hands? Bit unusual, but sure! Why not?

Meanwhile Philippa looks like she was going to tell Jaskier to back off (probably used to being around King Vizimir that wouldn't let anyone he doesn't know touch him) but then saw how eager the prince was to make physical contact and chose to let it play out.

Then, this happened...

And Prince Radovid was so secretly relieved to have found someone even more confused about the proper way to socially interact with people than he is, that he decided they should definitely get married.

It was love at first "What the fuck am I even doing?" "I've no idea! But your hand is very warm and you've got gorgeous blue eyes and great tits." "I've been holding your hand for a very long time, I'm so sorry about that." "It's fine, I'm still holding your lute..."

[waterflowing-under-ground]

I've seen some posts from people in the Witcher fandom (usually who are into both the Netflix show and the books) being confused as to why book fans think Geralt being mean to Dandelion (Jaskier) is a canon divergence in the TV show, when in the books, there are times when Geralt can be very cutting and even a bit mean to Dandelion.

My takeaway from their relationship in the books is that this conflict has the purpose of developing both of their characters (and serving as allegory because we KNOW Mr. Sapkowski loves allegory, and we love him for it! Or at least I do), and there's context around why they can be this way with each other. There's a rich history in this friendship, a comfort and casualness with one another that one wouldn't have with someone they weren't that close with, which in a lot of relationships comes with a safety to BE cutting and blunt with each other at times and know that having these conflicts is not going to mean an end to their relationship. They tend to move on from their arguments and all is forgiven (sometimes after a period of distance, but that's also normal after a hard conversation I feel - both parties sometimes need to process and lick their wounds, or wounded egos), and it's implied (at least to me) that their friendship is an "always" thing, even when they do blow up at each other, and even when the things they say are harsh.

Furthermore, there's so much "off screen" (off-page?) time between them that we don't get to see. But their closeness is implied by others and themselves throughout the entire saga and the short stories. And the things they say to other people indicate how important they are to one another as well.

I do want to point out that my personal take on their relationship is tempered by me being in my 40's and having more than one long term relationship (namely my closest and longest-running friendship which is going on 25 years now, and my marriage which is almost 15 years old this year) where there IS that familiarity and "safety" to sometimes have cutting conversations, or at least "brutally honest" conversations, telling each other things we might not want to hear, but perhaps need to.

My best friend, for example, saw me through a 6-year relationship that was actually abusive. She felt that she had to tell me some truths that I needed to hear, and while some things she told me were hard to hear during that period, I'm so glad she felt safe and comfortable enough with me to be honest about what she saw happening.

She is not a fuzzy-wuzzy cuddly person. But she is MY person. She has been my rock for nearly a quarter century. I would actually trust this woman with my life. I would donate a kidney to this woman if I were a match and she needed one. We are not cutesy fuzzy with each other (although most of the time we're warm, generous, and supportive like a certain witcher and minstrel duo). She's not the type to say "I love you" out loud, so we don't do that because I know that would make her uncomfortable (she's even like this with her partner of several years - some people just aren't as demonstrative with saying the WORDS, but it doesn't mean they don't FEEL it). But we LOVE each other dearly. We don't have to actually say "I love you" to say I love you to one another.

Because we're all human, we can even at times slip up and not be as tactful and sensitive with each other as we should be, or even in a moment of vulnerability get angry and snap (which is completely Geralt in Baptism of Fire). Some of the conflicts I've had with my best friend and my spouse can look a lot like what we encounter in the books between Geralt and Dandelion when they do get into a heated discussion or argument. But these relationships are, to me, "safe" and "always" in my mind and heart. I know we'd have to do something truly *despicable* and abusive to one another for those relationships to end entirely.

What I think people are saying, when they say, "Book Geralt would never *be mean* to Dandelion," isn't that Geralt could never *literally* be mean. It's that the portrayal of their friendship and the conflicts they could have were lacking any kind of context whatsoever. Furthermore, the Netflix show didn't make us believe they were ever MUTUAL friends who loved each other (mutually) in the first place, didn't do enough to build up their relationship and show its history and why they're so bonded to each other, why they're proud of each other, show us HOW the "opposites attract" thing actually works in their relationship, how they add value to each other's lives by having different but complementary personalities, why they had such a strong connection in the first place, why they loved each other, why they enjoyed and valued each other's company and place in their lives.

Instead they made it seem like Geralt was simply tolerating this silly little guy who gets him into trouble all the time, and then out of nowhere you get a tirade of verbal abuse that goes on about how this silly little guy ruined his entire life, and basically a "get out of my life" tirade which is extremely hurtful and broke the show character's heart (understandably enough). Geralt also punches Dandelion in the show, and while they have their share of verbal arguments in the books, Geralt never lays a hand on Dandelion, and even goes out of his way to protect him and save him from violence and physical danger multiple times throughout the entire saga.

Geralt's attempts to push the Hanza away in Baptism of Fire are often cited as the example of Geralt being mean, by Netflix viewers who are confused by book fans saying Geralt being mean isn't canon.

But I think book fans pretty universally agree that Geralt's "meanness" in Baptism of Fire actually stems partially from him wanting to protect the other members of the Hanza from danger, and partially from feeling like he's messed everything up so badly he doesn't *deserve* help or support, or that he can't *truly atone* for Ciri's separation and unhappiness unless he completes the mission entirely alone.

He tries to emotionally push everyone away by being, well, a jerk (which if one is looking to push people away, that can definitely be an effective way of doing so). But his friends see right through this defense mechanism, seem to intuitively know where it's coming from, and seem to understand what he's going through, and are not afraid to call him out on it!

They rightfully roast him for it, but in a way that to me comes across as loving, albeit tough love. To me it's in the vein of, "We see right through your nonsense, we know why you're being like this, because you think you're leading us right into harm's way and you don't want to do that, plus you're losing your mind because you're in a lot of pain and you've lost your daughter and de facto wife who you were JUST beginning to mend fences with before she and your daughter were ripped away from you, so you're freaking out and not being rational. This isn't going to work on us, we're not going to leave you, so just sit down, chop these veggies, and eat this fish soup with us, and shut up you silly man." My favorite moment is when Milva makes the remark about how wolves don't actually hunt alone. Wolves are, after all, pack animals who work as a team to survive.

Modern toxic masculinity harkens a lot to his idea of "alpha males" and "lone wolves" which is total fallacy and nonsense and runs completely counter to what real life is actually like. People, like wolves, are communal animals. We literally need one another to survive. Interdependence, not independence, is the optimal way of being human. Having love, comeraderie, and support are not just frivolities, they're necessities!

To close this, I think the heart of why book fans take issue with this portrayal of their friendship is that Dandelion and Geralt are the longest running thread through the series, each other's "always" person (which in a long lifetime often IS someone's closest platonic relationship, whether that be a chosen best friend or a close sibling for example), and they're so instrumental to each other's character development, that to bludgeon that in the show just runs so counter to what I feel as a fan of this series is one of its central themes, which is that nobody actually CAN do everything alone and without support, that being isolated and alone really leads down a dark path for us as human beings. By stripping away this piece of the story (Dandelion and Geralt's friendship in its true nature, not a contrived one) it fails to adapt the story on that level.

Keep in mind that these are just my opinions. If you made it this far, thanks for reading!

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

fill in the blanks by mindshelter

"You?” Tim blurts. Holy shit. “You’re Kon?”

A nod. “Are you in any pain?” he asks again.

Kon’s skin is sun-kissed, cheekbones dusted with a fine smattering of freckles; he is, without exaggeration, the prettiest person Tim has ever seen. “No, I’m—great,” he says, fidgeting. “Do you, uh, come here often?”

Kon raises a brow. “To the medbay?” he intones. “Definitely more often than I’d prefer."

Fault Line by sElkieNight60 (+ podfic)

Part 1 of Tectonics

"You’re invulnerable…” he whispers, but it’s clear that fact falters in his mind.

Confusion writes its way into the lines on Conner’s face and Clark takes a step back as though physically pushed.

“You’re not invulnerable.”

It is a statement, dull like stone.

“N-no, sir.”

— 🦸 —

OR: Conner's not as invincible as Clark thought. Suddenly, he's a lot more human.

Danny Phantom x DC

The Business of Family by Spaced_Ace

Jazz remembered the way their parents loomed in the living room as they’d laid out that verdict. Ever-present weapons gleaming, standing in such a way that they blocked access to both the front and back entrances. Their eyes had been what struck her the most of that horrible tableau. What made her stomach fill with jagged stones and drenched her back in a frigid sweat. The way they looked at her little brother, their gazes cold and hollow and -

Hungry.

(Things are not well in Amity Park.

With the GIW getting more and more aggressive and their parents becoming ever more suspicious of Danny each day that passes, Jazz knows that they're running out of time. It's not safe, and their options are painfully limited. Out of sheer dumb luck or a little intervention from Clockwork, she manages to discover a distant relative that just might be their salvation.

If asked Oswald Cobblepot would say that it's just good business. Adopting a few kids had done wonders for Bruce Wayne's reputation, why not his? It's not like he can't afford to put them somewhere out of the way if they get to be a problem. It's just business. Nothing more.

(His soft heart says otherwise))

The Witcher

Words of Love by ForestWren

"I should warn you,” Jaskier said between kisses in the soft darkness of the shed, “That I know some… very interesting people. You may want to avoid meeting them.”

“I’ve dealt with the Redenian court for decades. Your friends can’t be worse than that.”

Five times Radovid meets Jaskier's friends and family, plus one time they are alone.

Star Wars x The Mandalorian

Master Skywalker: The Absolute Worst by PrinceJakeFireCake

"Din got to his feet. He patted Boba on the shoulder affectionately.

“You should watch the recording of Skywalker fighting the death troopers,” he said, then pressed a kiss to Boba’s cheek and told Grogu to stop eating his blocks.

Boba watched the recording. He was pretty sure he would never be the same again. He was positive that he never wanted to meet Skywalker ever again.”

Boba Fett falls for Luke Skywalker. It isn’t the funnest thing he’s ever done.

Original Works

Call Me Menace by wingedcat13

You, Synovus, are a respectably terrifying supervillain. Your main rivals, a pair of superheroes named Legionnaire and Athena, are actually respectable as heroes. You hate having to stoop to kidnapping their child - but you hate more what the kid's behavior implies.

if it don't hurt now (just wait a while) by quandaries_and_contradictions

Part 27 of mage in a wolf pack

When the hunters first take him, Jaime knows everything will be okay.

He’s scared, of course. He wants his mom and dad and little sister. But he knows it’s going to be okay — because the wolves who protect his town will come for him. Lada’s mother and father and papa won’t let the hunters get away with this. All he has to do is hold on until they get here.

Months later, he's not so sure.

Stranger Things

No One Rides For Free by weird_witchcraft

"Are you okay Harrington?” Eddie asks gently, “Need me to get anyone?”

“No one to get,” replies Steve, so soft Eddie barely catches it. “You think I want anyone seeing me like this?”

Eddie Munson stumbles across Steve Harrington crying next to a bush at Tina's party and makes it his mission to cheer him up.

Clone Wars

mirci't be uja by ihathbenobiwankenobied for whitchry9

Obi-Wan is usually good at keeping track of his blood sugar levels–because he has to be–but this time, it’s out of his control.

(Or, a diabetic Obi-Wan is thrown for a loop after crashing on an unknown planet. Stim does his best to keep his General alive)

[shy-urban-hobbit]

Modern au

Lambert takes his niece to get her ears pierced for her birthday and oh no, the new guy at the studio is ridiculously hot!!

"You still sure about this, kid?" Lambert asked as the two of them rounded the corner onto the next street, Ciri took a break from demolishing her purple frosted doughnut to give him an excited nod. It was the answer he'd been expecting but it still didn't hurt to check. Ciri had expressed interest in getting her ears pierced a few months prior and the agreement she'd reached with her father was that if it was something she still wanted by the time her birthday came around and it wasn't just a passing whim then she had his permission. That day had finally arrived and Lambert had volunteered to make the arrangements and take her to his usual guy, fully convinced that Geralt would just end up wandering into the nearest Claire's otherwise - having no personal experience, the man had proven himself to be clueless when it came to researching reputable places.

He felt Ciri press a little closer to him and he wrapped an arm around her shoulder. He didn't blame her, they weren't exactly in the most respectable part of town anymore - he was pretty sure the rats would try to mug you if they were capable - and if any of Ciri's three parental figures were with them (Jaskier was definitely in the realms of honorary parent at this point, whatever the situation was with him, Geralt and Yenn) they'd probably be making them turn around and head back. They weren't though; and Lambert had been using this place for the last seven years, since he was eighteen and making questionable choices just to push Vesemir's buttons.

There'd been some new graffiti added to the red brick of the outside of the studio since the last time Lambert had visited - not that it'd stay there very long before one of the inhabitants covered it with work of their own. Years of this has led to a good portion of 'Dyn Marv tattoos and piercings' being covered in a mish-mash of traditional tattoo designs, psychedelic swirls, detailed wolves and tigers and a relatively fresh looking comic style UFO by one of the top windows.

Lambert's brow furrowed a little in confusion at the noise that greeted them as they entered. There was music playing - nothing unusual in that, there was always music playing on a low volume but this wasn't Cedric's usual heavy metal or Schrödinger's classic rock or even Axel's K-Pop. It sounded almost like folk rock if Lambert had to guess, unfamiliar but not unpleasant.

The figure behind the counter was also unfamiliar as they stood with their back to them, fairly tall and dark skinned with black curls tied back with a strip of blue cloth, a sleeveless white tank showing off muscular arms. Lambert cleared his throat awkwardly to catch their attention, then felt his throat dry up instantly when they turned at the noise. Oh no.

He was fucking gorgeous. A few loose curls framed a high cheek-boned face, full lips framed by labret and septum piercings pulled up into a wide smile which in turn caused khol rimmed, emerald eyes to crinkle at the corners. A silver chain disappeared into the low neck of his tank top which also offered a glimpse of toned chest, the edges of black ink barely visible.

"Hi there, can I help you?" He asked and oh god, even his voice was hot.

"You're not Cedric." Lambert immediately wanted to go drown himself in the customer bathroom.

"He left me in charge while he had to run out. Something about moving apartments and Schro getting stuck in a box again..." He finished with a shrug, "I'm Aiden."

Lambert felt something click in his brain, "Cedric's brother right? He's mentioned you a couple of times."

"Whatever he's told you, it's all lies." Aiden said with a wink, leaning on the counter and resting his chin on his hand - the back of said hand Lambert noted, sported a tattoo of a realistic snarling, green eyed black cat.

"So anything I can help with today or would you rather hang out and wait for Cedric, although I couldn't tell you how long he'll be."

"Depends. How are you with kids and piercings?" He knew Dragonfly only dealt with tattoos whilst Joel specialised in the more 'adult' piercings and didn't tend to take clients under twenty one. Lambert gestured to Ciri who had wandered away from him to browse over the display of various spiked cuffs and brightly coloured necklaces for sale.

"I've experience with both. I did my apprenticeship and got my qualifications under Cedric and Axel and have many niblings and foster siblings, as you probably already know if you know Cedric."

Lambert nodded. Cedric and the others ran a tight ship, they wouldn't allow Aiden to work here if he didn't meet their standards, "Ciri." He called, dragging the girls attention from a plastic unicorn necklace she'd been eyeing up "This is Aiden, he's going to do your piercings, ok?"

Ciri scrutinized him for a couple of seconds before giving a nod. Aiden grinned back.

"And what are we going for today. Nose, belly button? No don't tell me... eyebrow!"

Ciri giggled, "My daddy said I can get my ears pierced for my birthday."

"Oh really?" He threw a quick look at Lambert and something in his expression closed off, "Well let's get some studs picked out and then we'll get you all comfy and set up."

"Can I use the bathroom first, please?"

"Just through there, sweetie." Aiden said, gesturing to the lime green door behind her before placing one of the standard forms in front of Lambert, "We'll do the boring paperwork in the meantime."

"I'm not daddy by the way." Lambert blurted out after a couple of minutes spent in awkward silence.

"Huh?"

"I'm her uncle." He held the form out for the other whilst trying his damned hardest not to stare at those lips.

"Well," Aiden deliberately brushed his fingers against Lambert's as he went to take it, voice pitched lower as his eyes slowly looked Lambert up and down, "If you ever want to be someone's Daddy, I wouldn't be opposed."

Before Lambert could even think of a response to that Ciri returned and Aiden was back to being professional, yelling for Dragonfly to come watch the front before showing his newest client all of the different earrings she could choose from and having a serious discussion about red Vs. blue as if he hadn't just made Lambert's brain short circuit. Dragonfly chimed in with her opinion every now and then too whilst throwing a smirk at Lambert which left him wondering how much of that exchange the petite, heavily tattooed blonde might have heard.

Lambert was ready to leave at a moments notice as Ciri glanced around Aiden's workspace, sitting stiffly and looking far too small in the leather chair.

"Ok Ciri, we're all ready to go." Aiden settled on a stool next to her, angling himself so the tray bearing the bright pink studs (and more importantly, the needle) was out of Ciri's eyeline, "Now, you look a teeny bit nervous there so would you like me to explain everything to you or just shut up and get on with it?"

"Could you tell me please? I don't like not knowing what's happening."

Ten minutes later, after having Aiden show her everything he was going to be using and answering all her questions, a much calmer Ciri was staring at the far wall trying to count all of the band stickers which had been put there and added to over the years, with Lambert sat on the now vacated stool by her feet "Feel free to swear kid. We won't say anything if you don't."

"Absolutely." Aiden agreed, "Ok. And 3...2...1"

"BUTTS!"

Lambert rolled his eyes heavenwards whilst Aiden looked like he was trying to hold in a laugh.

"Well, I can honestly say I've never had anyone scream 'butts' in my face before now. You got a poop to go with it? 3...2...1"

"POOP!"

"I need to be having a word with her dad if she thinks butts is a swear." Lambert muttered as he paid, Ciri back to hanging around the jewellery display and proudly showing off her new piercings to Dragonfly.

"Oh come on. It was pretty hilarious." Aiden chuckled somewhat awkwardly, "Hey, I'm sorry if I came on a little too strong earlier by the way. Sometimes my mouth shoots off before my brain kicks in."

Lambert made sure Ciri was suitably distracted before leaning in closer, "It's not your mouth I want to make shoot off."

The hitched breath he got in response was incredibly satisfying.

"Uncle Lambert, look what Dragonfly gave me!" Ciri yelled, breaking the moment and holding up the unicorn necklace from earlier.

"For the birthday girl." Dragonfly looked a little too smug and Lambert was going to figure out a way to get revenge.

"Well then...if there's nothing else I can help with today...?"

"Actually-"

Vesemir sighed, shaking his head in defeat as he caught sight of Lambert, "Please tell me taking Ciri wasn't just a cover for that. What on earth were you thinking?"

Lambert merely waggled his eyebrows in response, the new gold bar in the left catching the light as he did. Right now he was thinking getting an impulsive piercing to give the pretty guy a reason to touch him wasn't the dumbest thing he'd ever done by a longshot. Especially when said pretty guy gave him his private number afterwards "Incase you have any problems with aftercare."

He smirked as he fished out his phone, firing off a message to Aiden inviting him to find out sometime exactly how seriously he took aftercare.

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon - High

The more time Jaskier spends around Witchers, the more he notices how much they are like cats in some ways. Of course, they had those signature cat eyes that allowed them to see in the dark. And he started noticing how their eyes would dilate when something caught their attention.

A stalk of field grass with a bit of seed fluff on the end would cause Geralt's eyes to immeidately dialte if twitched. He had done it one winter in the Great Hall, with a willowy twig, and five heads had snapped toward the motion, and five pairs of eyes had dilated.

Jaskier had been reminded just how fast Witchers could move. He survived only because he managed to yeet the twig before he got dog piled.

Then he discovered that they purred, and liked cheek and chin scratches. He would start scratching cheeks or chins, and their eyes would dilate, and they would turn into Witcher-shaped puddles.

There were a lot of things that made their eyes dilate: cheek and chin scratches, being warm and comfortable, hugs, seeing something interesting, being excited, White Gull, and now, whatever the h*ll that plant was that Geralt was laying next to.

Jaskier had been waiting for over an hour for Geralt to return to camp. He had said he was going to set some snares, but he'd been gone too long, and Jaskier had gone looking for him. The bard had found him laying on his back next to a large shrub that was all shredded and mashed down, and he'd panicked, thinking he'd been attacked by something and left to die.

After getting a closer look though, he discovered that Geralt was unhurt. He was idly rolling a twist of pungent smelling leaves between his fingers and staring up at the sky, looking like he was having some kind of religious experience. There was only a thin ring of gold around his dialted pupils.

Jaskier *gently shaking his shoulder*: Er...Geralt? Geralt, can you hear me? Are you okay?

Geralt *dreamy voice*: Wouldn't being a-a bird be, like, the best? You could just fly around all day, sh*ttin' on people... I'd sh*t on Whatshisname...Valdo. Yeah, man, I'd totally sh*t on him. I'd just follow him around all day, every day, just sh*ttin' on him for you.

Jaskier: That's very touching, Geralt, and I appreciate the sentiment, but--! Melitele's tits, is that catnip?!

Geralt: Yeah, *rubs leaves on his face and starts purring*

Jaskier: Er, okay, big guy, let's get you back to camp. *slips arm under his shoulders and levers him into a sitting position*

Geralt *dramatic voice* : I ASCEND!

Jaskier: *gently takes the handful of leaves away and puts them in his pocket* Let me just hold on to these for you.

Jaskier heaved Geralt to his feet. The Witcher wobbled but stayed upright. He raised his hand, fingers positioned as if he were holding something, took a bite out of the invisible thing in his hand, squinted up at the sun, then demanded that Jaskier blow out the giant candle in the sky because he couldn't taste his cheese.

Jaskier regarded him silently for the space of a few heartbeats, then took a breath and blew it out at the sun.

"You blew out the sky candle! F***ing h*ll, I can't see anything now!"

"Your eyes are closed, Geralt."

Geralt opened his eyes, frowning irately, and grumbled "Blowing out the f***ing sky candle and plunging us all into eternal darkness-!" he stopped mid-rant as he remembered his invisible cheese, and took a bite. "Tastes like purple!"

Their trip back to camp had been punctuated by more stange ramblings as Geralt talked about all the mysteries of the universe, and randomly stopped to yell at a tree that was giving him a dirty look. He had passed out as soon as Jaskier had dropped him on his bedroll.

Geralt woke later, and in answer to his confused look, Jaskier had gleefully blurted, "You got high off catnip!", and then laughed himself breathless while Geralt growled and grumbled and denied it.

Jaskier pulled a few of the leaves out of his pocket and held them out to him. He'd been rather disappointed when Geralt had taken the leaves, examined them, and had absolutely no reaction to them. Geralt had given him a smug look that screamed "I told you so!".

Days later they stayed at an inn while Geralt worked a contract, and Jaskier entertained himself by tring to make friends with the cat that lived there.

She had stopped to sniff under the door, so he had opened it and tried to lure her in with some food scraps. The cat had been reluctant, having smelled Geralt's scent in the room. Jaskier remembered that cats did not like Witchers, but his inner Disney Princess was going to make friends with this cat through h*ll or high water!

He had taken some of the catnip, rubbed it between his palms, then put it in a little pile on the floor and crouched near it, hoping to entice the cat to come closer. He wiped his hands on his shirt and pants for good measure, in the hopes that he could get his new friend to sit in his lap.

Geralt returned a while later and found Jaskier sitting on the floor with a spaced out cat in his lap. He was curious as to why this cat was not immediately hissing and spitting at him like cats usually did when he encountered one. He slowly moved a little closer and caught a whiff of something herby...

The cat barely even flinched when Geralt dropped his bags and practically knocked Jaskier over trying to rub his face into his shirt. Jaskier ended up pinned to the floor by a hulking Witcher and a cat. He was grinning like an idiot while both the cat and Geralt rubbed their faces on him, and Happy Purred.

Jaskier made a few mental notes: 1. This is gold, tell Yen! 2. Don't mention this to Geralt. 3. Start collecting catnip. Ask Yen to help.

By the time Jaskier went to winter in Kaer Morhen that year, he had, with Yennefer's help, stockpiled a sizeable amount of catnip. He kept it hidden in his pack, wrapped with all his other herbs and dried florals, tucking it down in with his soaps and lotions and scents.

He had originally brought it as a joke, something to use to tease his adoptive family with, but he found that it really came in handy. Fights were a regular thing at Kaer Moren, especially when you were stuck indoors for weeks on end.

Jaskier started secretly burning a pinch or two of catnip in the Great Hall's fire pit when the usual minor scuffles looked like they were going to turn into fistfights.

Sometimes, when they were drunk and starting to try to fight each other, Jaskier would lobb a little catnip stuffed beanbag into the middle of them and let it work its magic.

Catnip tea became a thing.

Along with catnip cookies.

Sometimes, if he was bored, cold, or feeling a little down, Jaskier would rub a little catnip on his clothes and walk into the Great Hall, and then just enjoy the massive cuddle pile that resulted.

Yennefer knew exactly what was going on and was lowkey impressed her bardling had been able to smuggle the stuff into Kaer Morhen without Geralt knowing. It was an amusing distraction. She and Jaskier would sit and listen to their random thoughts.

"Forks are just a hand for your hand."

"Bread has a wetness scale, and here's why..."

" What if dragons had their wings on their back legs?"

" When two people kiss, they make a really long tube with an a**hole at each end."

"Your belly button used to be your mouth."

"If potatoes have eyes, then that means they watch you as you murder them."

And of course there was the humorous behavior, like:

Lambert balancing on the top of a door, claiming that he was a hawk.

Witchers crowding around a window to 'ekekekekek!' at a bird outside.

Geralt standing in the stables, bare a** naked, telling Roach she was pretty.

Eskel swearing that the rats in his room were talking sh*t behind his back, and it was really hurtful so, could Jaskier please go tell them to stop being mean?

Coen standing infront of a mirror, combing hair he didn't have, and swearing that Yennefer was lying to him when she told him he was bald.

Vesemir trying to fight everyone because he was feeling like he was 150 again because his joints didn't hurt anymore.

Then came the event that Yennefer personally could not stop laughing about. Lambert had started a massive drunken brawl one evening. Jaskier had been in his room, trying to make friends with some of the rats, when he'd heard the enraged screaming. He'd run to the Great Hall and seen an obviously inebriated Geralt and Lambert rolling and snarling on the floor.

Coen and Eskel tried to break it up, but were dragged into the free for all. Jaskier started yelling for them to stop, but he was ignored. He ran back to his room and did the only thing he could think of.

Yennefer had heard all the rukus and stormed into the Great Hall just as Jaskier came running back in, carrying the biggest joint the Continent had ever seen. The size of it was just absurd. Yennefer had started laughing as he'd dropped it unceremoniously into the firepit. Smoke billowed up, filling the room, and seconds later, the fight was over. Witchers were laying in a pile on the floor, stoned off their a**es, and contemplating the complex mysteries of the universe. Jaskier was pretty sure some of them were seeing gods.

It had taken weeks for the room to air out enough to were the Wolves weren't getting high just walking in to it, but there were still a few spots on the wall, and one of the furs where the smell continued to cling. It became a big joke after Jaskier guiltily explained what happened. Now when one of them, especially Lambert, started getting extra prickly, someone would say "Go sniff the fur/wall and calm the h*ll down!"

[dancingwiththefae]

Vespula and Jaskier would accidentally turn up to the same orgy and have a full blown fight in the middle of it while everyone just kind of skirts around them confused and then they’d get even more confused when the fighting turns to fucking but their argument doesn’t stop