#Valskier

[bambirex]

Help me flesh out an idea?

Mamma Mia AU - sort of the same plot, Jaskier has a grown-up kid, who's getting married, kid doesn't know who their other father is since Jaskier was a bit of a slut when he was younger, and invites some potential daddies to their wedding and unleashes chaos. A/B/O setting, probably.

Geralt and Radovid are obvious choices, but who should be the third candidate?

[dapandapod]

So many witcher fics

Attempting to clean my master lists, so here is another pile of early witcher fics! 

These are written between 2020 and early 2021, the start of my witcher career! please enjoy!

-Fingertips Words: 1244 Jaskier is too stressed out to sleep, Geralt is brave and tries to help. Fluffy fluff fluff.

- Connecting dots Words 2981 Geralt is hit by a lying curse, and no braincells where seen that day.

- I just called to say I love you Words: Geralt is staying over at a hotel for a hunt. But he misses Jaskier something terribly, and as if he read his mind, Jaskier calls him.

- Two Pillows Word: 2098 Geralt sleeps with two pillows. One for his head and one to hold. And then Jaskier comes along.

- You bring me colors Words: 1400 When your soulmate is born, they bring colors. And when they die, the colors dissapears. There are many ways to die.

-My blue pearl Words: 1,466 Geralt is a tattoo artist and Jaskier gets an emotional tattoo. And later a date.

-Can I stay? Words: 4481 Jaskier has to stay over in Geralts flat, but there is only one bed....

-Family portrait Words: 2,323 Queen Calanthe is not a fan of hedgehogs.

-All kinds of pointy Words: 1,569 Jaskier has a temper and Geralt likes it.

-A story of catnip and Witchers Words: 1,863 Turns out catnip has certain effects on witchers.

-Prove it Words: 1,441 When provided with a floor, you dance.

-Pretty Barmaids and Evil Witchers (part 1) Words: 1,424 -Pretty Witchers and Evil Bards (part 2)Words: 1,805 There is a barmaid taking great liberites with his Geralt.

-Taste of apples Words: 716   As a podfic by @kyokotsukuyomi Smooches -Touch of home Words: 853    As a podfic by @kyokotsukuyomi Hugs -Place your smile in mine  Words: 1251 Holding of hands Jaskier asks, Geralt provides.

- Love Language Words: 1397 Jaskier thought he know how Geralt expressen affection. But it turns out there is more to learn.

-Flowers and bad ideas Words: 1,460 Jaskier sneezes and Geralt is sure he is about to die

-Everything I wanted Words: 1,169 After the mountain Jaskier is almost beaten to death. But Geralt comes for him.

-Roach!Roach my beloved!  Words: 2435 “Duck removal. Witcher wanted. Good pay.” Or - the first time Geralt meets Roach.

-Sing with me    Words: From his bedroom window, Jaskier can hear the sirens sing. He learns from them, loves them. When he comes to Oxenfurt, it takes him no time at all to see that Valdo is one of them.  mer!valdo x Jaskier

- Lady of the lake Words: Renfri needs to find a magic sword to finally end Stregobor. The lake where it is said to be hidden, she finds Yennefer instead. A mer!yennefer x renfri story

-Child of surprise Words: 2057 Roach finds herself a handsom unicorn

-A song unsung Words: 1,127 TW death “Have you ever lost someone before?” Jaskier asks. “Yes.” “Is it always this hard?”

[flowercrown-bard]

#2 for the pining prompt, any pairing you like!

Thank you!

2. Quickly sewing back the loose button of their shirt that came off at the last minute, realising that you two are extremely close.

I'm going with Valdo Marx/Jaskier for this one (@flosimo @d-andilion you might be interested?)

"You look ridiculous," Jaskier said as he tugged on the open collar of his rival's shirt - his rival, who for now unfortunately was supposed to be his duet partner. Damn the Duchess and the vagueness of her request that Jaskier should play a set with an up and coming flutist. And damn Jaskier's lack of foresight. Of course this mystery flutist turned out to be Valdo Marx. It was just Jaskier's luck. 

Marx batted his hands away and straightened his collar, attempting and failing to conceal the empty space where a button had just popped off. It only made it stand out more. 

"Stop that," he hissed, disgruntled. "It's not my fault the Duchess gave me this doublet without asking for my measurements first."

Jaskier opened his mouth to make a quip about Valdo's measurements, but no sound left his lips. Unvoluntarily, his eyes drifted from Valdo's face to his exposed collar bone and then lower. Valdo had filled out nicely since they had last seen each other. He looked softer than he had back then. Healthier. Like being held by him would feel lovely. Clearly, life at court had treated Valdo kindly. Jaskier still remembered how haggard he had been back at the academy, unable to eat more than strictly necessary, whenever he got stressed. Valdo must have spent these past years with a mind resting at ease at the prospect of a secure future. 

Without wanting to, Jaskier wondered what it would be like, if he just stayed here at this court with Valdo. If he too would find security and happiness in this life. 

Happiness looked good on Valdo. As did the open collar. 

Jaskier cleared his throat and closed the space between them again. 

"I will very much not stop it," he shot back belatedly. "I refuse to perform with someone looking so… so…" beautiful, his treacherous mind supplied and his heart stumbled, "disheveled. Scandalous. You look like you just stumbled out of someone's bed."

Alright, it was just about time that Jaskier stopped rambling before he lost all control over his words. Even more importantly, he had to put a stop to his thoughts that were running wild, imagining what Valdo would be like being with Valdo now. If it would resemble the tension filled trysts of their youth or if it would be something softer. 

He frowned, when Valdo snorted.

"You'd know about looking scandalous," Valdo said. "Your collar is opened wider than mine."

"Yes, but for me it's a choice." Jaskier narrowed his eyes at the buttonhole. Then he let go of Valdo's collar and turned towards his packs. "I can't have you looking like that. It would distract from me."

Behind him, Valdo muttered something that Jaskier couldn't understand. Years ago, Jaskier would have assumed it was some cutting remark about his looks or a taunt about his out of tune singing being distracting enough, but Valdo's voice lacked any bite.

Finally finding the thread and needle Jaskier had been looking for, he turned back. 

"What -" Valdo began and took a step away from Jaskier, who strode forward with a needle at the ready and a determined frown on his brow. Valdo broke off, when Jaskier grabbed his collar once more. "Oh."

Valdo stiffened, standing still as a marble statue, as Jaskier began to sow the button back on. 

From this close, Jaskier could see his throat bobbing nervously. 

"You - have learned some useful skills out there after all," Valdo said, clearly attempting to give his voice the sneer of a backhanded compliment, but it fell flat. After a pause, he added more quietly, "Thank you." 

"Don't mention it," Jaskier said. Because if Valdo thanked him again or kept using that soft tone on him, Jaskier would not be able to get his heart back under control in time for their performance. He could not afford messing up in front of the Duchess. And as much as he wad loathe to admit it, he liked the idea of failing in front of Valdo even less. 

He smoothed over Valdo's collar, letting his touch linger a little more than necessary. The embroidery of the fabric felt pleasant beneath his fingertips, but he itched to pull it aside and run his hands over the smooth chest beneath instead. 

Tearing his eyes away, he looked up - and straight at Valdo's lips. 

Had he been this close the entire time? 

"Jaskier…" 

Valdo's tongue darted out to wet his lips. Jaskier couldn't tear his eyes away. He felt himself drifting closer, closer -

With a bang, the door flew open and the two bards flew apart. With a frantically beating heart, Jaskier looked to the door, where a page gave them a decidedly unimpressed look. 

"My lady sent me to fetch you," she said. "Your performance is supposed to start any minute." 

"Of course," Valdo said smoothly. Jaskier simply nodded his assent, not trusting his voice to come out even have as controlled. 

He stole a glance at Valdo, who's cheeks were dusted with red. 

"Shall we?" Valdo asked and held his hand out for Jaskier, who stared at it. "Time for you to show me what else you learned in the time we were apart."

"Oh I learned some interesting things, alright," Jaskier said with a suggestive smirk. 

As he placed his hand in his duet partner's outstretched hand, he thought to himself, most importantly I learned that I might have been wrong about you after all. 

[kueble]

Trick or Treat?

Written for the @witchertrickortreat prompt: Silence. I simply had to gag Jaskier lol.

Explicit. Warnings: Face slapping (briefly), Dom/sub, rough oral sex, dirty talk, gags.1,800 words.

Valskier

---

Jaskier looks good on his knees.

His palms are flat against his bent thighs, fingertips going white as he digs them into his skin.  Valdo takes his time, clicking his tongue thoughtfully as he walks around his boy, taking him in from every angle.  He can't believe he used to hate how fucking pretty Jaskier is, but apparently jealousy is a good cover for unbridled desire.

Valdo bends down, getting to eye level, and loves the way Jaskier has to physically drag his head up to meet his gaze.  He's dropping already, and Valdo loves the level of trust they've managed to achieve.  He reaches out to run a finger down the curve of Jaskier's jaw before using it to tilt his chin up even further.  "Trick or treat?" he asks briskly.

And Jaskier, the fucking brat that he is, gathers himself together enough to smirk and ask, "What if I want both?"

Valdo pulls back his hand, opening his palm before slapping Jaskier sharply on the cheek.  He moans at the contact, his eyes going unfocused while Valdo sneers down at him.  "Well the trick for you is a treat for me, so you're getting both I suppose.  However, before we get to that, I think you need a little reminder about not being so mouthy, hmm?"

Wrapping a hand around his dick, Valdo strokes himself a few times, reveling in the way Jaskier's eyes follow his movements.  He rubs a thumb over the slit, spreading pre-come, and then moves his other hand to the back of Jaskier's head.  A sharp tug has him gasping, his mouth falling open, and Valdo wastes no time filling that open space with the head of his cock.

"That's it, gagging for it already," Valdo spits out, and Jaskier just moans louder, his jaw going slack so Valdo can use him however he wants.  He slams his hips, burying himself to the root, and Jaskier's eyes water so prettily.  He's always stupidly gorgeous, but running eyeliner makes his eyes so fucking blue that it tugs at something deep inside Valdo's chest.  He starts fucking his mouth, not trying to get off, just punishing Jaskier for his earlier sass.  "So pretty for me when your makeup runs," he whispers before trailing his thumb through the mess at the corner of Jaskier's eye.

Jaskier looks up at him, smiling with his eyes, and Valdo can almost feel how much he desires to be good for him.  Fuck, he loves this.  He slams his hips hard, making Jaskier choke one last time, before pulling back and rubbing the head of his cock across Jaskier's tongue.  "As much as I'd love to come down your throat tonight, I have better things in mind."

He leaves Jaskier on his knees next to the bed and slowly walks over to their dresser.  There's a small black box that he knows Jaskier has been eyeing up all night, and he grabs it before returning to his lover.  "Here's your trick and my treat," he says calmly before handing it over.  

Jaskier makes quick work of opening the box, gasping softly when he spots the bright orange ball gag.  He giggles, but otherwise manages to stay silent, so Valdo doesn't chastise him, just takes hold of the black straps on the gag and holds it up in front of him.  The glowing face of the little jack-o-lantern grins up at him, and he wonders if this is perhaps too silly.

But one look at Jaskier's bright and eager face makes him realize how much fun this will be.  He sets the pumpkin inside Jaskier's mouth and fastens the black straps around his head.  Tugging gently, he tests the fit and finds it perfectly snug.  He steps back and looks at his work, loving the way Jaskier's lips are already straining around the gag.  

"Show me how you safe-word like this," he asks, and Jaskier reaches out to tap Valdo's leg three times in quick succession.  "Good boy.  Now prep yourself while I watch," he says, holding up a hand palm out when Jaskier starts to whine around the gag.  "You're being punished, remember?  Bratty boys don't get my fingers.  Maybe you can try again tomorrow."  Jaskier sighs, and Valdo knows he would be pouting if he could.

Valdo climbs onto the bed and gestures for Jaskier to join him.  Settling back against the headboard, he gets comfortable before tossing the lube down to Jaskier.  "Show me how much you want my cock, how good you can open yourself up for me," he orders, and Jaskier whimpers around the gag before dribbling lube on his fingers.  He looks out of it, shaken up but in a fun way, and Valdo revels in how unsteady he moves into position with his ass in the air and his shoulders against the bed.

He wraps a loose hand around himself, just lazily stroking while he watches Jaskier get to work.  Jaskier circles his hole with slick fingers, whining against the bed as he teases himself.  It's quite a show, and Valdo loses time watching him open himself up, those talented fingers making quick work of it.  Before long Jaskier is a mess, whimpering around the gag while he fucks himself on his own fingers.

He's so fucking gorgeous it hurts sometimes, and Valdo can't wait to push him to his limits.

"You good?" he asks, knowing damn well Jaskier can't answer him.  Instead, he gets a half-assed glare over Jaskier's shoulder, but there's not much heat in it.  He's half gone already, eyes dark and pupils blown wide as he struggles to hold himself up.  He gives a shaky nod, and Valdo takes pity on him.  "Ok, take what you want," he orders, chuckling softly when Jaskier scrambles to get in his lap.

He can tell how far down Jaskier is by the slow, languid way his limbs move, like he's moving underwater.  Valdo threads his fingers through his hair before leaning in to kiss him soft and sweetly on the cheek, doing his best to ground him.  Jaskier's eyes blink closed and he sighs around the gag.  Valdo takes a moment to rest their foreheads together before slapping Jaskier sharply on the ass.  "I'm not gonna fuck myself," he drawls out, and he Jaskier rolls his eyes before rising up on his knees.

Jaskier looks wrecked already, so Valdo helps, holding his own cock by the base as Jaskier slides down on it.  The first press into his tight heat is always overwhelming, and Valdo holds in a groan as Jaskier slowly sinks down on him.  He feels incredible, and after all the teasing, he knows neither of them will last long.  He could be nice and take over, but why do that?  Instead, Valdo leans back against the headboard and offers a feral smirk while Jaskier does his best to fuck himself.

His boy looks so good like this, frustrated with tears in his eyes and flushed cheeks.  He can't help reaching out and pinching Jaskier's nipples, tugging lightly and making his hips stutter.  He twists one roughly, and that's all Jaskier can handle.  He cries out the best he can with his mouth stuffed full, eyes slamming shut and his head falling to Valdo's shoulder.  His chest shakes with a broken sob, and Valdo palms the back of his neck to ground him.

"Shh, you're doing so well for me," he whispers, and Jaskier trembles at the praise.  He manages to pull back, sitting upright again, and Valdo knows he'd be beaming if not for the gag.  Jaskier always flourishes under praise.  "So fucking good for me," he adds, just to see his cheeks flush darken.  "Need me to take over now?  Too worked up to do it yourself?" he asks, and Jaskier nods frantically, unshed tears shimmering in the dim light of their bedroom.

Planting his feet on the bed, Valdo braces himself and starts to fuck up into Jaskier.  He’s wet, absolutely dripping with lube and pre-come, and Valdo easily slides in and out of him.  It’s easy to hold him up when he’s so far gone like this, bouncing like a rag-doll as Valdo slams up into him.  They’re both half-gone already, always are when they play like this.

His boy is so fucking good for him that Valdo could cry over it, but it’s even sweeter when he makes Jaskier cry instead.

There’s no finesse, just raw fucking as they rock together.  Valdo does his best to hold it together, but he’s on edge, too.  Jaskier lets out a small whine with each thrust, and the sound eggs him on.  Each buck of his hips is less coordinated than the last, but somehow he manages to keep control, even as he feels his orgasm building at the base of his spine.  Valdo clings to Jaskier’s hips and drives up into him, taking a moment to look at his lover.

Jaskier looks absolutely wrecked, and Valdo knows he is close.  He tucks a couple fingers under the strap of the gag and tilts his head, forcing their eyes to meet.  “Don’t you dare come before I do,” he warns, and Jaskier does his best to nod while being held still.  His eyes are bright and full of unshed tears, and Valdo can tell he’s nearing his limit.  He speeds up his thrusts, dropping his hand to grip at Jaskier’s hips so hard they’ll bruise.

It won’t take much for him to get there either, and Valdo bites down on his lower lip as he fucks up into the vice-like heat of Jaskier’s body. He watches with wide eyes as spit gathers at the edges of the pumpkin gag, pooling even as Jaskier whines around it.  Then a thick line of drool falls from the corner of Jaskier’s mouth and lands right on his leaking cock.

And that’s all it takes, Valdo comes with a shout, bucking up as he spills inside Jaskier’s eager body.  He pumps him full, barely noticing when Jaskier comes with him, shooting off between their chests and coating them both with his spend.  He’s trembling, clinging to Valdo as they work through their orgasms, and Valdo fucks him through it, cooing praise against his neck as he milks him dry.

The first thing he does is undo the straps on the gag, freeing Jaskier’s mouth.   Then they sit there, wrapped up in each other, and Valdo runs his hands up and down Jaskier’s sweat-slicked back, soothing him until he comes back to himself.  Only then does Valdo slip out of him, pressing a lingering kiss to his neck when Jaskier whines at the loss.  “I’ve got you,” he whispers, and Jaskier nods, still holding him tightly.  Soon he’ll move them, draw a nice warm bath and take care of his boy, but he knows enough to tell Jaskier needs a little more time to settle down.

Valdo always takes good care of his boy.

---

NSFW tags: @tothedesert @mayastormborn @allinthebones @selectivegeekwithstandards @trickstermoose67 @dapandapod @theweirdlynx @tedrakitty @sharinalein @iamaqt314 @silvermintnightprincess @honeysuckletook @rockysstupidity @live-long-and-trek-on @larawrmonster @thesynysterunknown @rebard-main @gryffinqueen-blog @fangirleaconmigo @mothmanismyuncle @fontegagrilledcheese @thestarkwinter @lokibus @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @221birl1823 @strippiluolamies @concussed-dragon @aurelia-which-means-sunrise @clarebear66 @feral-jaskier @hayleynzlive @answrs @jaskierswolf @holymotherwolf @thisislisa    @firefly-party @officerjennie @theshapeofcool @singerin @flawney

Let me know if you’d like to be added/removed.  Thank you!

[jaskierswolf]

Panda's Hug Prompts!

So because of who I am... I encouraged @dapandapod to said me a prompt for every single number on this hug prompt list. So I believe that deserves it's own masterlist! Some of them are doubled up but I'm very excited to finish all these up! Some of thse I couldn't find the tumblr links (hellsite) for but the whole set is on AO3

clinging hug

all encompassing hug - Geralt & Ciri

awkward hug - Vesemir and Geralt (Art)

comforting hug - Geraskier

jumping into a hug - Gerlion

pat on the back - Lambskier

hug from behind

hug where Person A is sitting and Person B is standing - Lambden

the hug that feels like home - Geraskier

one armed hug - Valskier

hugs from parent or guardian - Vesemir and Geralt (Art)

Burying your head in someone’s neck - Gerlion

the hug to hide your tears - Geraskier

bear hug - Geralt & Ciri (feat Jaskier)

glomp hug - Geraskier

cheek to cheek - Geraskier

the goodbye hug - Geraskier

tight and desperate - Gerlion

chaste hug - Dara/Ciri

formal hug - Geraskier

one-sided hug - Tissaia & Stregobor

can’t stop yourself from hugging - Dandelion & Essi

sitting in lap hug - Jaskilion

wanting to hug but your ignored - Gerlion

lying on chest, listening to heartbeat - Gerlion

exhausted hug - Geraskilion

the hug you didn’t know you needed - Jaskden

the hug you don’t deserve - Gerlion

group hug - Lambskier

cuddle puddle - Yenfri

swaying side to side whilst hugging -Geralt & Ciri - Geraskier

hugging a pillow because you wish it were someone else - Geraskier

the hug from that one person who is allowed to hug you - Geraskier

hug to prevent a fight - Valskier

hug after a fight - Lambden

I thought you were dead hug - Gerlion

I almost fell but you caught me - Valskier

bridal style hug - Geraskier

spinning around in the air hug - Yenfri

post-nightmare hug - Trissefer

Hugging someone’s legs - Yennefer & CIri (Art)

Laughing so much you just fell against each other and are now hugging oops - Geraskier

[d-andilion]

mornings

another prompt for @whataboutthebard!

prompt: wuv - bundled up

(valskier, T/M, modern au, established relationship, fluff, mild horniness, playing it a little loose with the prompt today, 1.2k, read on ao3)

Mornings have never really been Jaskier’s forte. Back at Oxenfurt, he wouldn’t be caught dead in a class that started before 11:00 AM, and he’s still the university’s unofficial reigning all-nighter champion. The real world blasphemously required him to be up at a “reasonable” time most days, so he tried to keep weekend plans to afternoon hours where they belonged. He wasn’t sure which of his friends suggested they all go for an early breakfast on a Saturday, but whoever it was was getting a stern talking to.

The very naked boyfriend Jaskier found sprawled out between him and the alarm clock was the only reason the squealing device didn’t wind up smashed against a wall. That, and the way the sheets rucked up to expose Valdo’s thigh as he reached for the clock sucked every single thought, destructive or otherwise, out of Jaskier’s head. A few sleepy smiles later, Jaskier found himself bundled up in a mess of blankets and limbs, tracing paths over that pale skin with his mouth.

Then Valdo slipped his long fingers into Jaskier’s hair, flashed him a sly smile, and uttered fighting words: “I can’t decide if your obsession with my legs is cute or creepy.”

Jaskier tore his lips away from Valdo’s thigh with a squawk. “I am not obsessed with them!”

“Don’t whine,” said Valdo, seemingly unphased by his baseless accusations. “I said it might be cute. In fact, I’m almost sure it is. At least fifty percent cute.”

“I’m not obsessed.” He wasn’t. “I pay acceptable and completely understandable homage to a lovely pair of appendages that just so happen to be connected to your torso.”

Valdo wrinkled his nose. “Appendages? Not sexy, Julian.”

“I’m not trying to be sexy, I’m defending my honor!”

It might be true that Jaskier tended to give Valdo’s legs a little extra attention, but to call him obsessed was overstating things. So what if he never missed an opportunity to lavish Valdo’s thighs with kisses? Valdo enjoyed that every bit as much as Jaskier did; Jaskier could catch Valdo running his fingers over the marks left behind days later. And if Jaskier’s brain short-circuited every time Valdo’s legs wrapped around his waist, how could he possibly be blamed? It wasn’t his fault Valdo was an insatiable minx, was it?

Valdo chuckled at him. Chuckled. “You’re allowed to be obsessed with me, love. I would have preferred it be for my eyes or something, but this works too.”

Jaskier definitely was obsessed with Valdo’s gorgeous brown eyes, but that was a conversation for a later date. “You know what?” Jaskier said, crawling up over his boyfriend with a hand planted on either side of Valdo’s head. “it’s your fault I’m obsessed with them.”

“So you admit it?”

“Shut up.”

Valdo giggled up at him and, in full service of the completely valid point Jaskier was about to make, wrapped his legs firmly around Jaskier’s waist. If Jaskier briefly—briefly!—forgot what he was about to say, no one would ever be able to prove it.

“It’s your fault,” Jaskier continued, “because they’re a mile long each, unreasonably muscular for someone who does no physical labor—”

“I run!” Valdo cried, swatting Jaskier’s arm.

Jaskier plowed on. “And the first thing you do when I’m within range is entrap me in them! What was I supposed to do?”

“Whatever you need to tell yourself, dear one.” Valdo’s tone was smug with victory, but his pale cheeks had gone pink.

Jaskier dipped down for a kiss that became two and three, and he lost interest in counting after that. Valdo licked into his mouth. His arms wound around Jaskier’s neck, pulling him down to press Valdo into the mattress. Then the little tease turned his head with a grin and let Jaskier’s next kiss fall messily onto his cheek.

“We have to get up,” said Valdo breathlessly. Jaskier ducked to kiss his neck, featherlight.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Breakfast with our friends, recall?”

Jaskier sighed mightily and let his full weight crush his boyfriend for a moment in revenge, earning him a groan and a pinch to his shoulder. “Fine,” he grumbled. Valdo detangled himself to let Jaskier roll off and out of bed.

“Can I borrow something?” asked Jaskier, making a B-line for the chair in the corner of Valdo’s bedroom piled high with clean but unfolded laundry.

“If you must,” said Valdo, sounding very put-upon.

“Shut up,” Jaskier replied throwing a grin over his shoulder. Valdo’s eyes were notably watching his ass, as they often did whenever Jaskier turned around, but of course they weren’t going to talk about that little obsession. “I know you love me wearing your clothes.”

Valdo sniffed pompously. “I will neither confirm nor deny that.”

Jaskier laughed and continued to dig around in the pile for something to wear. He knew he’d left a few shirts here and at least one pair of jeans, but they were all mysteriously absent. There was no point checking the closet. Valdo only bothered to put away his nice clothes; all the others were either in the chair or in the dirty hamper.

“You could leave things here if you wanted,” said Valdo from the bed. His tone had changed but Jaskier couldn’t quite pin it down. More serious, maybe? Jaskier couldn’t think what about.

“I leave plenty of things here,” Jaskier replied without turning around. “You just never wash them.”

“I’m your boyfriend, not a laundry service.”

Jaskier snorted. “I think it’s reasonable to expect you to wash my clothes if you’re the one wearing them.”

“I do not do that.”

“You absolutely do.”

“Irrelevant.” Valdo sighed heavily and Jaskier heard the blankets rustling. “Anyway, that’s not what I mean.”

“Oh?”

There was a short pause. “You could leave more things here. Like… the rest of your wardrobe. Maybe.”

Jaskier’s brow furrowed for a moment. Why would he leave all his clothes here? That didn’t even make sense. Then the realization hit him and he spun around so quickly, he almost toppled over, stark naked with one of Valdo’s hoodies in hand.

Valdo looked a bit like he was trying to hide, at least as much as someone of his height was capable of hiding in an otherwise empty bed. He’d sat up against the headboard, knees brought up to his chest and the duvet pulled over his shoulders. A head of disastrously messy curls atop a pile of blankets. It was adorable. Jaskier dropped the hoodie he was holding and sat down on the side of the bed.

“Are you asking me to move in with you?” Jaskier asked. His heart hammered away in his chest. Jaskier was pretty sure he knew what was going on, but he wanted to be sure. He wanted Valdo to say yes. Because then Jaskier could say yes.

“Depends,” Valdo muttered. The covers shifted over his knees like he was fidgeting. Valdo rarely fidgeted.

“On what?”

“On your answer.”

Jaskier smiled so wide, his cheeks ached. He grabbed Valdo’s face with both hands and kissed him with a comically loud smack. “Yes!”

Valdo let out a bark of nervous laughter that turned real and warm, especially when Jaskier yanked him down onto the bed by his ankles and climbed back on top of him, kissing every inch of skin available.

“What about breakfast?” asked Valdo, but the intention behind it was weak. His legs were already back around Jaskier’s waist, and he made no move to let go.

Jaskier kissed the side of Valdo’s neck and the point of his jaw and the apple of his cheek. “We were going to be late anyway.”

Mornings were still terrible, Jaskier wanted that on record. But maybe they wouldn’t be as terrible if they all started out like this.

~~

w.a.t.b. masterlist

[eranawrites]

Bard's worst friend

Chapter 7

Well, fuck. Geralt should have been able to tell something was off, the moment the loop restarted. The sick sort of relief washed over him, as the now familiar pain bit behind his eyes; the blasted curse giving him one more chance he didn't ask for.

But... he was still so preoccupied with the fact that he fucked up once again to notice that he just got fucked over.

Royally.

Because when he opened his eyes, he immediately squinted. Took unthinking half step to the left. His foot caught onto something and he looked down, down... feeling dizzy.

The shoes...

Geralt blinked. He didn't recognize them.

Pretty, yet impractical. Not something he would wear, unless he was pressured into it by some entitled noble or by, well. Different entitled noble, who rather roamed the continent penniless than sat at his father's estate.

Read more on ao3

Chapter one on ao3

Tentative, Geralt moved the leg. The fancy shoe moved too.

Huh.

He looked at his hands, his head spinning. They were wrong. Not only for the rings, he haven't seen before, but for a moment he had double vision too. He closed his eyes and almost had out of body experience. His consciousness was floating, anchored in a physical world and at the same time not really.

He felt like falling.

No, no, no.

Gulping, he squeezed his eyes. He had to focus. Focus. The hands. More gentle, but still those of a man accustomed to a hard life. Better taken care of, sure, but calloused in different places than his. What the fuck.

Than his.

How than his? They were his, he moved them the same way he was the one to open those eyes. Which. Well, this was different too.

The height was almost the same but his vision went to shit. His sense of smell too. He would complain, but not being able to tell what the men in the far away corner ate just from their sweat, wasn't something he'd really miss. Which meant...

Geralt stilled, not moving a single limb of the weird body. He had to concentrate to feel his own heartbeat. Great. Simply great. How was he to break this frigging loop when he wasn't even a witcher anymore, for fuck's sake. Whose body it was anyway? It clearly had history that wasn't his own.

Suddenly a hand circled his waist and he almost jumped. He willed himself into relaxing, which was something that was easier when he was in his own body.

"Sweetie-pie," he heard a sensual voice near his ear, the body pressing close to his, "thought you could escape me?" A man. There was undercurrent of mockery in the pet name, he could hear it now.

"Hmm." He felt him nuzzling his nose under his jaw, the slight stubble scratching at his neck. Gods, why it felt so good? Geralt tried to move but the hand at his waist became firm, caging him, not letting him get away. The man at his ear huffed a laugh, his breath tickling his skin. He tutted, "No, no. I don't think so. Took me long enough to find you, you scoundrel. Hiding from me, weren't you?"

Geralt didn't answer but the man didn't seem to mind, because he sucked Geralt's earlobe in his mouth and nibbled at it. With a final tug, he released it, his voice low and loaded as he breathed the words into Geralt's skin.

"Care for a repeat of Novigrad?" Geralt's heart was beating worryingly fast and loud in his chest. Oh shit, that voice. But if he wanted to move with this, his best chance was to withstand whatever was happening now. Not that it was some kind of hardship.

"Haven't had a chance to collect my prize," the familiar voice got sly, wry tone, lithe body pressed into his back, "since you so chickened out the last time I beat you."

"You didn't," said Geralt just because and strangely those words felt right in that mouth, his lips curling around them to lend this voice just enough amusement and sneer.

"Oh, c'mon," the voice in his ear whispered, "I know you hate admitting my superiority in words, out loud, for the whole world to hear, my dear, but we both know how you secretly enjoy it," he punctuated his words with roll of his hips, "when I win."

Pleasant tingling sensation sparkled in Geralt, this body clearly expecting something, and were this slightly different situation, he'd might even enjoy the attention.

But this was fundamentally wrong, everything about this was wrong, from fooling people who talked to him expecting someone else, to the fleeting thought of taking pleasure not aimed at him in stranger's body.

That thought got interrupted halfway through, because the man's hand sneaked from Geralt's waist down, down until he cupped him through the light trousers he was now apparently wearing.

Geralt's mouth slacked momentarily but then after few strokes the bastard took his hand back, clearly mocking and Geralt could just feel his shit-eating grin.

Geralt turned around and-

Fuck.

On some level he knew it. Of course he did. Just decided to ignore it for a moment.

Still it felt like some fucking joke.

"Jaskier."

It was Jaskier. Jaskier that was looking like he very much wanted to fuck him. Which... would be the opposite of a problem if he was in his own body.

And for a short second, Geralt thought to hell with it. He made small move towards him.

Jaskier cackled. "And who you fucking thought it was, Valdo? Unless you don't have similar arrangement with several other poets, which I suppose you do," he stabbed him with his finger right in the centre of his chest, "massive slut you are, but you should know it still offends me deeply."

Geralt stopped.

Valdo Marx.

Jaskier crossed his arms. "Though, to be honest, took me a while to track you down." His lips stretched in a sly smile. "But then, I caught the whiff of melodic atrocities being committed. Following the smell of your musical sins and dissatisfied lovers was easy." His eyes flashed to him. There was clearly mirth in them, the look Geralt knew he had when he had too much not entirely morally pure fun.

All the while Geralt's head reeled. Jaskier - his bard, his friend he lost - was finally talking to him, after years of wishing, pinning he would and he was doing so even without that disappointed tone and he-

He was fucking Valdo Marx. The man Jaskier wanted to kill and - apparently fuck with the same intensity.

The realization got the best of him.

"What the fuck," he whispered softly.

"What," Jaskier frowned, "no clever quip? I'd say all that lazy lounging at courts finally melted your brain. But oh, all right," Jaskier rolled his eyes as if it really was a chore, "I'll fuck you all you want, when we settle this right."

And that - that was a thought, wasn't it? But then Geralt remembered it wasn't aimed at him.

"Should have known I'll find you at the most filthy, salacious party of the year. Anyway," Jaskier clasped his hand together, "where's my ruby?"

"What ruby?"

"Cut the bullshit, Valdo. You know what I'm talking about."

No, he really didn't. But before he could express the sentiment, somebody pinched his ass. He yelped.

Fucking hell. He hasn't even realized someone approached him from behind.

When he turned there was woman kissing him on both cheeks and when she released her hands from his neck, she smiled wide.

"Valdo! Fancy you meeting there. I knew I recognize that pert bottom among thousands. And I was right!" she heartily laughed and before Geralt could react she was tugged at her elbow. She rolled her eyes at that, fond. "I'm busy now," which he guessed was fair, as there was hand around her waist, "but you definitely have to come find me later. Oh, by the way, have you heard," she smiled with scandalized twinkle to her eyes as she leaned to him again to whisper something into his ear, something that made Geralt freeze to the spot.

"See you later!" she yelped as the impatient hand at her waist dragged her away.

"Well," said Jaskier, his eyes following the woman sandwiched between her two partners, man and woman, "that certainly looked... interesting. But oh ho ho, don't think you'll go after her before we have this settled."

Geralt didn't answer.

"What did she say to you anyway? Couldn't quite make it out."

Only now Geralt turned and over his shoulder he looked him straight in the eyes.

He could lie. He could make something stupid up or ignore the question completely. But what for? He'll find out soon enough anyway. He always did.

"Apparently," he said slowly, "there's a witcher at the party."

"Oh," said Jaskier, and suddenly he looked as if somebody punched him.

Oh, indeed, Geralt thought, his human eyes skimming over the party. It was dusky to set the mood, few candles bathing the room in shadows those eyes couldn't quite pierce.

Because he just realized, if he was in this body, it meant somebody had to be also in his. Somebody. He already knew who it was, and if he had to go by anything Jaskier ever told him about Marx, it meant nothing but trouble. Especially since being a witcher could be a little... overwhelming wasn't exactly the right word. Fucking nightmare it was. Even worse if you woke up as one in this crowded, smelly, touch-heavy, fucking loud place. Only sense theoretically he shouldn't have problems with here should be sight but even that was kinda different than human's. So.

Geralt learned to live with it. It took time till he figured out what he should and shouldn't do, what worked best and which he should avoid at all costs. Information Valdo simply wouldn't have. But... he'd still have his strength.

"Fuck," Geralt said, "we have to find him."

"Oh, no, no. No," Jaskier all but cackled nervously. "You're not dragging me into this. I won't be tortured by you again. Besides, I told you," he hissed, "I'm done with witchers."

And didn't that hurt?

But he didn't have time to dwell on that. Geralt looked around, trying to get his eyes to focus. He completely forgot how demeaning it was to be a human. Not that being witcher was any better. He hoped he'd recognize his own form, though he couldn't be quite sure, as he'd never had to do it before. Where was he before? Previous loop he came from that corner. He started walking towards it.

He heard muttered swear and: "Fine," as Jaskier trailed behind him. "But you should know, even as evasive manoeuvre this sucks, Valdo. You still owe me my ruby."

Geralt didn't comment on it, set on his goal, many people naturally moving out of his way, while he heard 'pardon' and 'no touching, just passing through, thank you' muttered in Jaskier's voice behind him. Who would have guessed, humans retained some instinctual sense of danger around witchers, even when not in the right body. The one Jaskier obviously always lacked.

"Hell," Jaskier breathed out, when he stopped at Geralt's shoulder, "how you do it, you bastard? However, it shouldn't be surprise as no one wants to touch your poor excuse of fit body."

"Collar," Geralt muttered, not really paying him attention, his eyes searching.

"Oh, this little thing?" Jaskier hooked one finger behind it, studying it, "I picked it at entrance, don't know why everybody doesn't wear them. I quite like the design of it, fits me nicely, don't you think?"

Geralt didn't react. Jaskier eyed him.

"No retort of having me on a leash? Or whoring myself out with it? I swear, you're not yourself tonight."

"Searching. Busy," "Geralt retorted and after a small moment: "And you do whore yourself out, Jask, even more with your songs. But you know that." And then he muttered. "You're better than that."

"Jask? As I said," continued Jaskier in slightly panicky voice, "you're out of your mind, tonight, even more then normally. Was that- was that a fucking compliment? Nope, nevermind."

He quickly shook his head.

"Walking the corridors of your psyche and witnessing its horrors is clearly faaar more than I ever bargained for, so let's get this straight. Give me my ruby and we can go our lovely separate ways." Jaskier shrugged," At least until I kick your ass on some other musical festival."

"I have to find him-"

"Why?"

"-and you're helping me.

"Pff. Why should I?"

"You're tuned to-"

To me, Geralt almost said.

"To him. You always did find him after winter, didn't you? You have an eye for him, like- like some kind of sixth sense."

It was true. At least he used to. He never had to worry about meeting with Jaskier after winter, he just always showed up, no matter where Geralt was and they continued where they left on. Even when something went spectacularly wrong on the hunt and he couldn't make it back to the inn, Jaskier simply was there. In the middle of dark forest, ready to drag him back to civilization, even if he had to carry him on his back, muttering profanity all the way. Pity he didn't realize it sooner.

"Even if I did, which I don't, frankly - that's ridiculous - I just can't find any witcher, and we don't know if it's m-" he gulped, "if it's him," he said instead. "It might be just some random witcher and- and anyway, I don't see why are you so hung up on him."

"It is him," Geralt said simply.

"See? More reason not to look for him. You-" Jaskier snapped his mouth shut. There was silence from him, thick and distinctive and even not turned to him, Geralt could see the wheels turning in Jaskier's head.

"Oh," Jaskier breathed out at last, crossing his arms, the sound punched out of him, "oh, I know what this is about. It's some elaborate kind of revenge, isn't it? For winning that competition. You're cunt, Valdo, you know that? After all I told you." And then another beat as a horrendous thought occurred to him. "Don't you think you can fuck him, if we find him. Don't you dare, don't you even fucking dare to think of it."

"Why?" sneered Geralt from the side just because, "When you won't do it?"

Jaskier's mouth fell closed.

Something twisted in Geralt, something awful and merciless, the same power that urged him to go on, when the beast already had it's claws deep into his flesh.

"Would it hurt?" he asked, irritated. "Would it hurt, Jaskier, to get those hands on him sooner than you ever did?"

Jaskier opened and closed his mouth.

No sound escaped him.

And then-

"I'll kill you," he said softly, simply, matter of fact.

There was a beat.

"You already tried that," muttered Geralt as he pushed past him, towards the exit leading to the balcony. Once outside, fresh air hit his nostrils and he breathed in deeply until he realized that no, he couldn't simply track people based on scent anymore. He was barely aware of steps behind him.

Where the hell was he? He wasn't exactly easy to overlook, with that figure or hair. Sure it was night and it was only so far those eyes could see, even with torches lit but still. Jaskier walked around him, leaning on the stone railing of balcony, looking into the night.

"Not exactly how I imagined a fun night out," he muttered, seemingly to no one particular. "Gods, when I finally thought I got over him, you had to go and bring him back. You really are a prick, Valdo."

He eyed him from the side. The wind ruffled his hair.

And as wrought up as Geralt momentarily felt, he still had to admire Jaskier's complexion. Almost naked under the sparse light of stars, light goosebumps from the chill air on his skin, sprawling on the unforgiving stone. With his ridiculous jewelry and fucking collar of all things. All lean muscles, that he didn't realize he had, many of which shouldn't be seen if he had enough to eat.

"Great," huffed Jaskier. "And now you even have similar look in the eye. Fucking pathetic that now you of all people remind me of him."

Jaskier turned around, so his back was against the railing. Geralt felt his gaze focused on him. Jaskier looked him up and down, slowly. Sensually. He knew that look. He saw it many times directed at someone else. Jaskier leaned his head to the side, wetting his lip.

"It kinda makes me want to blow you."

Geralt's eyes shot to him. His breath hitched.

Long seconds passed.

He was talking to Valdo, whispered his conscience. What does it matter, screamed the rest of him.

He hasn't dared to move.

[tellhound]

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Jaskier/Valdo Marx

Warnings: none?

Words: Less than 1k

Also on AO3

"Please don't go." Jaskier practically begged as he watched Valdo get dressed. "It doesn't have to be this way anymore."

He knows that it doesn't matter what he says. The other man never stays. Doesn't mean he's not gonna try though. They're both older now, more mature and he hopes with his whole heart that Valdo is tired of this too.

"You know I can't." Valdo answered and for the first time since this whole thing started years ago he looks like it actually pains him.

"Is it because you're scared of what people will say about us?"

"It's not just that, Jaskier." Valdo says and for the first time since he got out of bed he turns to look at the man in it. "If people find out about us we could both lose what we've worked so hard to achieve. And I know how much it means to you."

Valdo wasn't wrong. Jaskier had been looking for fame ever since he was little and after years of trying and plenty of failures most people anywhere he goes now knows how he is and the lyrics to his songs.

A long time ago he thought that it could've made him happy, but fame hadn't managed to fill that empty void inside of him. The only times it felt like something wasn't missing in his life was the few moments he got to spend with Valdo. 

"I don't care about that anymore. All I want is you. It's always been you. Just took a while for me to figure it out." It's scary being this honest with someone. But nothing will ever change between them if they can't be honest with each other.

Valdo doesn't say anything. Instead he walks over to the bed and sits down on the edge of it, looking out at the room they're in. 

After a long moment of silence Jaskier can't take it anymore. "If you still want to leave, I won't stop you. If not, please just say something. I don't know how much more my heart can take."

"I love you." Valdo suddenly blurts out, taking Jaskier by surprise. "I always have. Probably always will. So if you're 100 percent sure that this is what you want… then I'll never leave your side again."

Jaskier took a deep breath to calm himself down before he asked Valdo to look at him. When he did there were tears in the other man's eyes and in that moment Jaskier understood just how hard this must have been for Valdo too.

"I told you. I want this. I've never been more sure of anything in my life." he reached out a hand and cupped Valdo's cheek and watched as he closed his eyes, a lone tear slipping out. Jaskier wiped it away with his thumb and let go.

A moment later Valdo opened his eyes again and got up from the bed. Without a single word he left the room and closed the door.

Jaskier hadn't been sure how he expected the conversation to end. But he definitely couldn't have imagined it like this; alone and abandoned once again. Especially not after Valdo had said that he wanted the same things as Jaskier did.

He got out of the bed and started getting dressed as tears slowly made their way down his face. He shouldn't have said anything, should've just kept quiet for once. But at least now he knew not to let Valdo seduce him again if their paths ever crossed in the future. He wouldn't be able to deal with his heart breaking yet again over the same man that had crushed it so many times before.

Just as he was about to grab his lute and head outside the door opened and Valdo stepped inside.

For a moment they just looked at each other, both unsure of what to do. But then Valdo walked over to him and enveloped him in his arms.

"I thought you suddenly changed your mind." Jaskier admitted quietly. 

"I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry. I was just going down to rent the room for another day. I should've said something."

"Yeah. You should have." Jaskier said before stepping out of Valdo's arms and wiping away the tears with the sleeves on his shirt. "But I guess this means you'll stay?"

"Oh, darling, I have no intention of ever leaving you again." Valdo said with a grin and then he started pushing Jaskier towards the bed. 

"You're gonna need to do a lot more than that to make it up to me, you know." Jaskier said just as he was pushed down on the bed and knowing what seemed to be in store for him it was hard to stay angry.

"And I know just how to start."

------

Taglist (let me know if you want on/off it): @luteandsword @dancingwiththefae

[rebrandedbard]

hi hello it's me (d-andilion), my favorite underrated witcher ship is valskier because they're bards and they're enemies and i want them to kiss about it 💜💜💜💜💜💜

Ah, Valdskier mine beloved, how I missed you! I should write some more Valdskier, especially now that he has a canon face and personality. It's hilarious to me that Jaskier has such BEEF with this man and Valdo doesn't even know who he is. Or acts like it. Petty ass queen. I love him. And he can write a BANGER of a song.

[iwillbringyouruin]

Fic Writing Review 2023

Words & Fics (as of December 7th)

words published (since July 17th): 200,783

fics worked on: 21

fics published: 18

longest completed fic: Oh My Gods, They Were Ghostmates (45,242 words)

shortest completed fic: Lovers Live A Little Longer (1,092 words, one shot)

languages: 2

Average words per month were around 42.1k.

Words Written Per Fandom

200,783 - The Witcher (TV)

AO3 Fics Published

18 fics published or updated

61.1% one shots

38.9% multi-chapter

15 completed fics

3 unfinished WIPs

Published Fics by Fandom

18 (100%) - The Witcher (TV)

Top 10 Fics by Kudos

Bardic Intelligence (T, Radskier, minor Jaspula)

Perfect Strangers (T, Radskier)

Be Good To Me (M, Radskier)

I Find You All Unwoven (T, Radskier mentioned)

Please Don't Say You Love Me (M, Radskier)

His Life in My Hands (T, Radskier)

The Touch You Crave (E, Radskier)

Longing (T, Radskier)

Oh My Gods, They Were Ghostmates (M, Radskier)

As Long As I Remain (M, Valskier)

This was my first year of actively getting back to writing fanfiction after a break and I'm really glad my brain has latched onto TWN, especially Radskier, and given me this opportunity. Writing and sharing fanfic has given me so much joy over the past half-ish year :)

Thank you so much to @loki-is-my-kink-awakening for the tag! Here is to another year of writing!

[petrifiedforests]

7+14!

Hi Grey!

7. How many ideas for fics do you have right now?

I've got 3 prompts I want to write (and I'm so sorry Witcher anon that valskier is really not my thing) and then like 3-4 vague ideas floating around.

Probably traumatize Dogma some more or put him (trauma free) on the ace spectrum and see how that'll work in a polycule.

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

This is like a perfect question because I do not visualize when writing. I literally have to actively remind myself or add descriptions in the second draft.

I think just like in the holos would make a good short film because it's very slapstick and would make for good visual comedy.

The ask game is here

[flowercrown-bard]

I'm feeling very nostalgic for writing witcher fic (i know it's only been like three months)

So please send me a prompt/word/line/song/anything really and I'll write a short ficlet for it?

Jaskier/Geralt, Jaskier/Eskel, Jaskier/Valdo Marx

[kueble]

Drabble prompt! Valskier, vampires? Some kind of sex magic? This is probably too long for a drabble 😂 anyway I love you 💖

Jaskier swoons, his vision dancing as he struggles to stay upright.

“I got a little greedy,” Valdo mutters, not sounding sorry at all.  He snorts against Jaskier's neck before licking the wound closed, his saliva doing its magic.

“Bastard,” Jaskier whispers, the word dripping with affection.  Valdo just lays him back against the truly impressive stack of pillows behind them, offering a lopsided smirk as he settles between Jaskier’s legs.

“You love me.”

“Unfortunately,” Jaskier teases, already reaching up to drag Valdo into a lazy kiss.  He knows he won’t be up for more, since he’s used to Valdo’s indulgences.

[d-andilion]

is it love?

back for @whataboutthebard!

prompt: wuv - sweet confession of feelings

(valskier, T, modern au, established relationship, meeting the parents, fluff, love confessions, 2.3k, read on ao3)

Dinner is coming along unexpectedly well. Usually, any meal where Jaskier is involved in preparation is an inevitable disaster, but Valdo has been careful to keep him away from the big-ticket items. His main job has been opening packaging and throwing it away later. Aside from a small disaster involving a glass jar of tomato sauce (Valdo thankfully had a spare), he’s been successful.

Valdo crosses the kitchen with the finished pot of pasta noodles in hand, silky green sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows, and dumps its contents into the colander Jaskier very helpfully placed in the sink for him. He mutters about the steam ruining his hair, but his mess of black curls looks the same to Jaskier. With the army’s worth of products Valdo puts in his hair every day, the frizz he’s worried about is probably impossible. He just wants to look nice, Jaskier understands. It’s a big night.

Jaskier has never actually met a significant other’s parents before, but he knows it’s generally considered a major milestone. They’ve been together for nearly six months now, so Valdo asking Jaskier to meet his mother wasn’t unexpected. Nervewracking, on the other hand, it very much was. Jaskier has been buzzing on the edge about it all week and as the moment of truth draws nearer, he feels like he might vibrate right out of his skin.

Not-at-all-frizzy hair aside, Valdo has been infuriatingly calm about the whole thing. He’s spent the last few days talking Jaskier off the ceiling despite the fact that it’s his mum causing all the ruckus. Even now, he stirs their pasta and checks on the pre-made breadsticks in the oven with calm and poise. 

Jaskier recenters the napkin holder on the kitchen table for the third time and looks back at his annoying relaxed boyfriend. “Are you really not worried about this at all?”

Valdo pauses, spoon still in hand, and hangs his head with an exasperated sigh. “Jaskier.”

“She could hate me.”

“She will not hate you,” Valdo says, firm but patient. “My mum is half-mad, she’s going to love you.”

“And you aren’t concerned in the slightest about this going well.”

“No.”

Jaskier slaps his hands dramatically on the table in front of him. “How?”

Valdo sighs again, more thoughtful this time, and sets his spoon down before turning to face Jaskier. “She’s just… not that kind of mum.”

Jaskier cocks his head curiously, still fiddling with the napkins. Valdo crosses his kitchen to Jaskier in a few long strides and shoves the napkin holder out of Jaskier’s reach with a chiding tsk. Before Jaskier can pout, Valdo begins running his fingers through Jaskier’s hair, nails scraping the back of his head the way that makes him want to purr like a cat.

“Not that she doesn’t care,” Valdo continues, still stroking Jaskier’s hair, “but she trusts me. She trusts me to know myself and what’s right for me. Even if by some miracle she didn’t like you, she’d be civil because I like you. So long as I’m happy, she’s happy.”

“She sounds amazing,” Jaskier says, leaning into his boyfriend’s touch.

Valdo snorts. “Don’t tell her that.”

He stills his fingers and tugs lightly at Jaskier’s hair, urging him to look up. Jaskier meets those big brown eyes with his own and something warm settles in the center of his chest. He’s been finding that feeling more and more when he and Valdo are together. It doesn’t make his nerves disappear, but it calms him easily. He slides an arm around Valdo’s waist to pull him closer.

“My mum is going to love you and you are going to love her,” Valdo says softly. Then he smirks. “If anything, I’m worried that I’ll be left out.”

Jaskier laughs at that. “You are not.

“I am!” Valdo exclaims. “I’m condemning myself to spend the rest of my days being ganged up on by the two of you.”

Valdo leans in for a kiss, pressing his smile to Jaskier’s for half a heartbeat before slipping out of his grasp to stir their supper. There’s still a grin on Valdo’s lips and light blush painting his pale skin, but he looks otherwise unphased by the words that just came out of his mouth. Jaskier, on the other hand, is reeling.

The rest of his days?

He might not have meant it like that. They both have a flare for the dramatic. Jaskier has certainly said things to that effect before, but this isn’t trivial banter about whose turn it is to pick the movie or whether Jaskier stole Valdo’s blue jumper (he did not and he refuses to search his closet of principle). This is about their lives together, their future. Jaskier and Margaret Marx, ganging up on Valdo for the rest of his days.

Is Valdo really thinking that far ahead? Does he think they will be together months and years into the future? Is he thinking forever? It’s been a good few months and things have been going great between them—better than great. Have they really been going forever great?

But Jaskier keeps watching his boyfriend stir another round of spices into their dinner, cheeks still pink because it takes forever for his blushes to fade, and the questions vanish from his mind. He knows he could do this forever. He could smash jars of tomato sauce and recenter the napkin holder and let Valdo soothe him when he’s being neurotic every day for the rest of his life. And he might just get the chance.

~

Margaret Marx is undoubtedly a host unto herself. Jaskier wouldn’t call her mad, exactly, but if he’s ever met a woman like her, he can’t recall it. And one would recall such a person.

She’s tiny, barely over five feet tall, and thin as a rail. Her straight, slate-gray hair falls down to the small of her back, flowing when she walks, along with her bright yellow floor-length skirt. Her wrists are covered with beaded bracelets and her neck is adorned with chunky pendants.

When Valdo told Jaskier his mother was a lawyer, it conjured an image of the stiff characters the Pankratz’s have always employed. Fitted suits, leather briefcases, dismal senses of humor. Marge—she insists Jaskier call her Marge—looks like she should be selling healing crystals in a beach town somewhere, and yet somehow he can still picture her commanding a courtroom with ease.

Watching her move about the kitchen beside her son, helping him set the table even as he harangues her to sit down, is an enigma all its own.

It’s hard to imagine Valdo could have in any way come from this woman. He’s her direct opposite; towering over her modest height, black curls artfully mussed beside her sleek gray curtain, pale as the driven snow compared to her generous tan. Even his gestures set him apart from her, always so measured, where she seems to float around the room on a carefree breeze. 

Yet, even with their many, many differences, there’s a familiarity between mother and son that feels entirely foreign to Jaskier. They lay the table and plate dinner in perfect harmony with all the airs of people who have performed this task a thousand times before. Jaskier is certain he’s never seen his own mother lift a plate before, much less scoop food onto it and set it on the table in front of him the way Marge does. He wonders if he ought to feel a tug of jealousy, and maybe it’s in there somewhere. But right now, watching Valdo smile and roll his eyes under his mother’s light teasing, Jaskier only notices a bloom of warmth in his chest.

Dinner is delicious, and talking to Marge is easy as breathing. Every so often, Jaskier feels Valdo’s hand on his knee under the table, giving him a reassuring squeeze. The evening is going swimmingly, just like Valdo promised him it would.

The conversation turns from school to careers to friends, and inevitably, to family. Valdo and Marge are mostly on their own, but Jaskier is drowning in sisters and aunts and uncles and cousins. He tells Marge about his niece and newborn nephew, and she demands to see pictures at once.

“I don’t know what I would do with so many relatives,” Valdo says between bites of his breadstick while she coos at Jaskier’s phone.

“It’s easy to manage when you avoid most of them at all costs,” Jaskier says with a shrug.

Valdo stops mid-chew, looking guilty, and Marge has a glint of sympathy in her eye. Jaskier hadn’t meant to bring down the mood. His nonexistent relationship with his family has been a fact for so long, he forgets to be bothered by it most days.

“Better we make our own family anyway,” says Marge, patting Jaskier’s hand. It wasn’t sympathy he saw in her eyes, he realizes. It was empathy. 

“I did it,” she continues with a grin. “Soon as I finished school. I changed my name and never looked back. I found my own people.”

“Really?” Jaskier asks.

Valdo snorts. “Of course she did, have you seen her?”

“Watch it you!” Marge exclaims, poking her son playfully in the side.

Valdo laughs, scooting out of his mother’s reach. He’s so soft right now, Jaskier thinks. Warm and open and relaxed the way he only ever is when they’re alone together. How many people have the privilege of seeing Valdo like this? Jaskier has a feeling that, at present, the only two are sitting in this room. 

Jaskier reaches out under the table and lays his hand gently on Valdo’s thigh, earning him his own private little smile. What a precious thing to be trusted with. More than gold, than jewels, than any round of applause.

“Even this one was a choice all my own,” Marge says, reaching again for Valdo’s side while he wiggles out of reach. “I wanted a baby and I was tired of waiting around for someone to have one with, so I went and had one myself.”

Jaskier feels a bit in awe. He knew Valdo’s mother was the only one in the picture, but he had no idea she’d chosen to have a baby all by herself. Could he ever be so brave? So sure of himself, so unafraid of the world and its challenges?

“I wouldn’t have had it any other way.” Marge looks at them contentedly. “Got me the best kid anyone could ask for. You’re a lucky one, Jaskier.”

Valdo groans dramatically and Jaskier laughs along, but he meets Marge’s eye for a moment, trying to convey everything he can’t say aloud right now. 

I know, he tells her. He’s precious to me, too. 

~

They finish dinner and dessert along with a few glasses of wine each before Marge decides to turn in. She excuses herself to the spare room, but not before reminding them that the walls are thin and she would very much appreciate them keeping it in their pants tonight. Valdo turns beet-red while Jaskier chokes on his own tongue. Marge is amused and unapologetic as she shuts the door behind her.

“How did you manage to get the coolest mum in the history of mums?” Jaskier asks when he finally recovers.

“She isn’t that cool,” Valdo says with a heavy eye roll. He stands to start clearing the table and Jaskier follows suit, collecting their empty wine glasses. 

“My parents wouldn’t allow my sister and her husband to share a room—even the sitting room—until they were in a Gods-honoring marriage. This includes a seven-year relationship and the period during which they were engaged to be married. They had a small child together, Val.”

Valdo snorts. “I think that says more about your parents than my mum.”

“It definitely does,” Jaskier concedes. “She’s still cool.”

“If she were cool, she would learn to keep her nose in her own business. I still can’t believe she said that.”

Valdo’s blush creeps back up his neck as he remembers their conversation. Just as they were finishing their meals, Marge asked them both rather bluntly if they thought it was love. Valdo was absolutely mortified and changed the subject at once, but Jaskier was surprisingly calm. He’s been bouncing that four-letter-word around in his head for months now if he’s honest and it doesn’t scare him at all. It feels right.

“She’s just looking out for you,” Jaskier says.

“She’s just being meddlesome like usual,” Valdo replies with a pout.

Jaskier chuckles and they clear up in silence for a few beats. He can hardly blame Marge for her comments, flustered as Valdo was over them. She saw right through Jaskier tonight. Maybe Valdo isn’t ready to say it yet, but Jaskier is.

“It is, you know,” Jaskier says, pausing by the sink while Valdo stacks dishes inside.

Valdo doesn’t look up. “What is?”

“It,” Jaskier replies. “This. Us. It is.”

“Is what?”

“Love.”

Valdo’s head whips up at once, his eyes blown wide, and their plates clatter in the sink as they slip from his hands, but neither of them is focused on the dishes right now. 

“I love you,” Jaskier tells him with a soft smile on his lips, and fuck, it feels so good to say it. “I’ve been thinking about it for a while. I just wanted you to know. You don’t have to say anything—”

“I love you, too,” Valdo breathes. His cheeks are still pink and his shirt is a little wet from the sink, but right now he’s the most beautiful thing Jaskier has ever seen.

“Great.”

Valdo chuckles light as air and steps into Jaskier’s space, wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s neck. “That’s your big line?”

“I think I’ve pulled my share of big lines this evening,” Jaskier snarks back. His hands find their familiar perch on Valdo’s hips.

“That’s no excuse,” Valdo mutters. Then he pulls Jaskier into a kiss, slow and sweet, and whispers those three words against Jaskier’s lips. It makes them both smile like idiots.

Jaskier laughs breathlessly, touching his forehead to Valdo’s. “I love you, too.”

~~

w.a.t.b. masterlist