#eskel/triss fic

[vulpinesaint]

since i am out of school and witcherposting often again i thought i would let the crowd know that i am updating my little (very large) kaer morhen fic again :) we're in the final few chapters i prommy... these emotionally damaged people are all learning to care about each other so deeply... love each other even... beautiful world...

[antisocialsocialite]

*new 13k witcher fic appears*

jaskier keeps bumping into witchers during his travels. eskel is a hugger, lambert curses, aiden is alive, vesemir is dad. geralt is jealous and whipped. triss is hot and nice and yen is sly and also hot. what more do you want?

ships tagged below

link link link

[kaetien]

Fictober Prompt 8: “Do you remember?” Fandom: The Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt Characters: Triss Merigold and Eskel Summary:  Eskel worries that maybe Triss is no longer happy with decisions made.

Excerpt:

He wasn’t surprised to find her sitting outside in the shade of one of the large trees. Ever since she had arrived back at Kaer Morhen and declared herself home, that had become one of her favorite spots to be when she wasn’t doing things inside. She said that she liked the story that the old tree told with its tall, round trunk, and high-leafed branches told. The tree had been huge and old when he was a young boy, so there was no guessing from him how old the tree might actually be.  The one that could have answered that question no longer walk these lands.

[gil-galadhwen]

Lady Of The Marred Moon [An Eskel Fic]

Chapter 6 - Fiend

Catrin's time in Kaer Morhen has finally begun, and while she's hurt from what she heard Eskel say about her the night before, perhaps they're already on their way to making amends...

Read here...

<Dividers by @saradika-graphics>

[witcher-and-his-bard]

Love Letters

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier Warning(s): none Rating: general

Fic Summary: Jaskier writes down all his feelings in a letter he never expects Geralt to see - only for Geralt to arrive shortly after, snowed out of Kaer Morhen.

For @jackironsides 💜

My beloved Geralt

Dear Geralt

Geralt, my love

No matter what he writes, it sounds wrong. Too intimate, too casual, too... much in one way or another. Jaskier hasn't even gotten past the introduction and he already wants to give up on the letter. It feels so easy over the summer, when he and Geralt spend long, muggy days walking side-by-side. Jaskier sings and Geralt rides, and occasionally, Geralt will even sing along with whatever he's playing.

Now, in the dark of his room at the academy, those feelings feel dull and distant. Not Jaskier's feelings, of course, but the potential reciprocation. These days, he finds himself thinking about Geralt's relationships with Eskel or Lambert, or even Vesemir. He wonders how different those relationships are to the one he shares with Geralt. Maybe those gentle things Geralt says to him in the comfort of their shared inn rooms are just things Geralt would say to anyone.

Ugh. Jaskier flops backward in his chair, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He wishes there was an easy way to know these things, and for the first time in a long time he finds himself envying Yennefer. She could just read Geralt's mind, she could just know. And Geralt? He can smell emotions or something like that; at least, he always seems to know when Jaskier is upset about something. Maybe he took the wrong path in life. Maybe he should have tried to get into Ban Ard and become a mage. Surely there is some chaos in him, enough, at least, to be able to read minds.

Briefly, Jaskier considers contacting Yen. They've had a better relationship as of late, and she might be able to give him some insight, if nothing else. But he doesn't want to drag her into something that isn't really any of her business. Not because he's afraid to tell her, but because she might not want to know. She's happy now - travelling with Triss and Istredd last he heard - but there might be some leftover feelings there and he doesn't want to bring up Geralt in a romantic setting if he doesn't need to. Plus, he doesn't want to feel like more of a burden than he already does.

Jaskier looks down at the half-started letter in front of him and angrily crumples it up before blowing out the candle and shoving his chair back. He flops forward onto folded arms, looking out into the blue of the night sky, speckled with snow. Normally, he would take comfort in a view like this, but tonight, it just reminds him of how far away Geralt is.

Is it even worth beginning a relationship when they spend so much time apart? Would Geralt even be interested? Even if he was madly in love with Jaskier, would that be enough? What's the point when you have no one to cuddle with and watch the snowfall? But then maybe Geralt would want to visit some winters if they were more.

Gods, he wants that more than he can even properly comprehend. The idea of falling asleep in Geralt's arms feels like the height of romance. Already, Jaskier treasures the moments he falls asleep listening to Geralt's voice, even if he does feel a bit bad about it in the morning. Despite himself, a dopey smile spreads across his face at the thought. He misses Geralt more than he can say while they're apart in the winter. It's only a little into the season and already the long, dark winter feels endless.

Jaskier inhales deeply, sighs, and sits up to write. He's determined to finish this letter, even if it never reaches its intended audience.

Geralt,

I know it's barely been a month since we parted, but I find myself longing again for your company. Teaching is hectic as always, and my students love a tale of your heroism. I know you don't consider yourself a hero, but I do. Though lately, I find myself recalling different moments from our travels. I find myself thinking of the evenings after a contract has been completed and paid. I think back to the ale or tea and the stars hanging low in the sky. The way the firelight flickers on your face. I miss that. I miss the way your hair falls in your face when you take it down to sleep. I miss how stubborn you are about that awful headband. And I regret to tell you now that I've grown... rather fond of it, actually.

Rather rarely do I find myself at a loss for words, but they escape me when I try to nail down all the things I feel for you. I know I am a mere mortal, doomed to die years or even decades before you, but given the chance, I would happily live out the rest of my life at your side. Perhaps even in your arms.

I know love is not a word you use often, but the way I feel it could very well become something so all-encompassing. I can't promise that love is how I feel now. I find myself mixed up in a way I've never felt before. That's not to say that I don't love you, because I do. As a friend, as a companion, as something more. Perhaps one day, even as a lover. Even if you don't feel the same, I want you to know that you are deeply cared for in every way one person can care for another. I don't mind if you don't want to see me again, so long as it is your wish, and one borne out of intention rather than fear. Because although I've never spoken the words, I've longed for you for days and weeks and months and years, silently staying by your side. Perhaps one day you will have me there on purpose - despite, or maybe even because of, my feelings for you.

Until then, I remain yours, as always.

Jaskier.

Jaskier looks over the letter once more and, feeling an uncomfortable swell of emotion, folds it neatly and tucks it into an envelope that just reads Geralt. He's only just finished hiding the evidence when there's a knock at his door.

"Yes?" he asks.

"Sorry to interrupt so late," the voice on the other side of the door says. Jassa, Jaskier thinks, his assistant at the university. "You have a guest."

"A guest?" Jaskier asks, perplexed. Who on earth would brave this weather just to visit? The only guests he normally has are students or his fellow professors, either of whom would just come to his room and knock themselves.

"He says he's a friend. Geralt? I think," Jassa says.

Jaskier's heart somersaults.

"Right," he says, "of course. Send him up. I'll leave the door open."

"Certainly," Jassa smiles. "I'll send him right up. Have a good night, Professor."

"And you," Jaskier finishes, barely aware of what he's saying.

What is Geralt doing here? Of all the years they've known each other, he's never once come to visit over the winter, so why now? Jaskier turns around, leaning on the door, and is struck by the state of his room. For the last two days, he's done nothing but lie around and sulk, and it shows. He absolutely cannot let Geralt see his room like this.

Given he has roughly four minutes, maybe a few more if Geralt stops to talk to Jassa before coming up, it's not going to be easy. So Jaskier starts with the worst of it: the clothes and things laying all over the bed and floor. There is a surprising amount of mess considering Jaskier is the only one residing in the room, but he manages to get the worst of it tidied before the knock at the door. A final glance tells him only the desk and table are still cluttered, but that much is acceptable so he crosses to the door.

As he pulls it open, Jaskier is struck by Geralt's smile. He always is when they haven't seen each other for some time, but this feels more. Maybe it's because he's been considering his own feelings lately, but looking at Geralt, here and in person, makes his legs weak.

"Hi," he says shakily.

Geralt gives him an odd look, but it quickly turns into a half-smile and he steps into the room when Jaskier moves aside.

"I hope I'm not intruding," he says gently, "it's no trouble to find a room at the inn if-"

"Not at all," Jaskier interrupts. "I'd be happy to host you if you're staying.”

"I had hoped to," Geralt says.

"What brings you?" Jaskier asks.

"The route to Kaer Morhen was snowed over by the time we arrived in Kaedwen," he explains, "I thought this might be the best place to stay."

Part of Jaskier is delighted at the thought, though when he considers it further, Oxenfurt is further than any of the other places Geralt would be more than welcome to stay over the winter. There's no good reason for him to have travelled all the way to the coast, when surely Yen would have taken him in without question. Their relationship may not be romantic anymore, but Jaskier knows there is still a deep love between them. And he's happy for it, which makes it all the more confusing why Geralt is here. He thinks to ask, but reconsiders.

"Please," he says, remembering his manners, "make yourself at home. I can have a bath poured if you're tired? Was Roach properly cared for? Shall I call for supper-"

"Jaskier," Geralt says gently, "Roach is fine. A small meal would be nice, but there's no rush. Right now I'd just like to relax."

Of course, Jaskier thinks. He must have been travelling for weeks if he first attempted the path and then had to turn back. Jaskier had left him just north of the Pontar, between the mountain ranges, so that must have been-

"Jaskier?" Geralt asks, cutting off his train of thought. "Is everything alright?"

"Fine," Jaskier assures him. "Just wasn't expecting company and I'm not prepared for it- Not that you're not welcome!" he corrects quickly, and with a little too much vigour.

"Perhaps you're the one who needs a rest," Geralt says, half-teasingly.

"Just to get my head on straight," Jaskier assures him. "Why don't you make yourself comfortable and I'll go fetch something warm for you to eat."

Jaskier slips from the room, only stopping one he's far enough away that Geralt won't hear him. He stops and sighs, pressing a hand to his chest as if to stop the mad beating of his heart. Surely Geralt has heard it already and he’s given himself away, but he was hardly expecting to be visited like this out of the blue.

He takes another few calming breaths before continuing on down to the kitchen. He's close with the chef - with most of the staff if he's honest - and has more than once helped him out of a sticky situation with less-than-edible herbs, so his request for a private supper is granted with a smile. In the meantime, Jaskier makes his way back up to the room, holding his breath for a moment before opening the door.

Geralt is standing over the desk in the small room, mumbling quietly. As Jaskier approaches, slipping up behind him, he realizes Geralt is reading the poetry he'd been working on. Jaskier has never been so relieved to know how little Geralt thinks about his poems, as these ones are nearly explicitly about him, the only relief being that his name is not used. Wolf, he uses once or twice, but it's a metaphor and Geralt always says he doesn't care for flowery things like metaphors.

"This is... lovely," Geralt says, though he sounds a bit off as he does.

"Thank you," Jaskier says quietly, slipping around to Geralt's side to see which one he's reading.

"You- your narrator sounds sad."

"Ah, yes. Been a bit of a downer lately, I suppose."

Jaskier tries to laugh it off but Geralt turns to look at him, something like concern in his expression.

"What's wrong?"

"Oh nothing's wrong," Jaskier assures. "I've just not been feeling myself."

"Can I help?"

Jaskier is taken aback by the blunt suggestion and his head jerks up to meet Geralt's eyes.

"I'm not sure you could, love," he says gently.

"If someone has hurt you-"

"No," Jaskier says quickly.

"You reek of heartache," Geralt says bluntly.

"Right. Well." He considers for a moment before deciding against lying to Geralt. "Unrequited love, I'm afraid."

"How do you know it is?"

"Unrequited?" Jaskier laughs, "oh, my darling, he'd have to be the stupidest man alive not to know. Or perhaps the most oblivious. I'm sure he would have said something if he felt the same."

"You haven't," Geralt counters.

"Right, well- He wouldn't want someone like me, surely."

"Perhaps he feels you think the same of him."

Jaskier had considered that option, but it seems unlikely.

"Either way, it's best just to tell him. I'm sure he'll be flattered if nothing else."

The mere suggestion of it makes Jaskiers stomach turn and he nods slowly. Thankfully, at that moment, supper is delivered to their room and he is spared the thought of confessing his feelings - out loud - to Geralt.

His relief is short-lived as supper is finished shortly, but he makes an excuse about taking the dishes away and dashes out the door with them. Jaskier wants to cry. He can't believe he's gotten himself into a mess like this and he can only hope Geralt doesn't continue to bring it up.

He's so distracted thinking about it that it seems like seconds before he's standing back in front of his door. He hesitates before opening the door, keeping his eyes closed until the last possible moment.

When he opens his eyes, Jaskier's heart jumps into his throat. As Geralt turned to see him, a piece of paper had fallen from his hands and Jaskier can't take his eyes off it. He'd been so preoccupied worrying about the mess when Geralt showed up that he'd forgotten to hide the letter. And it was addressed to Geralt, he had every right to read it, but-

"Jaskier?"

Jaskier scrambles across the floor, reaching for the letter, but Geralt catches his wrist, holding him still.

"Is this just another one of your poems?" he asks quietly.

Jaskier shakes his head. There's no use denying it.

"It's… me. I'm the one you were talking about earlier."

Jaskier half wishes he could fall through the floor and never have to finish this conversation. Sadly, despite how hard he wishes, the floor refuses to open up beneath him. He nods.

"I want to hear you say it."

Jaskier's tongue feels heavy in his mouth but he manages, "I don't know what to say. I don't want to make any big confessions I can't live up to."

"Then how about this?" Geralt says.

He leans in, taking Jaskier's face in his hand, and softly presses their lips together. For a moment, Jaskier forgets to breathe and has trouble believing this is real at all. But when Geralt pulls back again, he's smiling, his cheeks a faint shade of pink. Jaskier's first thought is that it's quite a pretty colour on him before he presses forward and kisses him again.

"Yeah," he breathes, barely pulling away to speak, "I think that's a good start."

[fandomtookoverlife]

Lost fic HELPPP

The Witcher Geralt/Jaskier - Geralt is magically reverted back to his basic instincts (supposed to be monstrous) instead is cuddly and very protective of Jask

If you don’t know this fic but like the sounds of it there are spoilers at the end of the post you shouldn’t read - you should however like and rb so they we may all find and read this fic bc I highly recommend it! (If only I had saved it😭)

Ok SO. it’s starts with Triss being very worried about people going missing and she goes to Geralt for help - they find out the people going missing are Witcher supporters when jaskier talks to a group of musicians (?) in a tavern, explaining to them why Witchers are not evil “he could kill us all” “yes he could but so can I, he doesn’t for the same reason I don’t” which is that it’s wrong but also Geralt wouldn’t want him to - the group explains that a friend of theirs who supports Witchers has gone missing

Being the ultimate supporter of Witchers jaskier goes in as bait to draw out the kidnappers/murders

Jaskier ends up getting their attention but also ends up getting kidnapped and locked in a cell. While in the cell he speaks with a musician+witcher supporter who is the friend of the other musicians Jask talked to during the investigation-

During the villains token monologue he reveals his hatred for Witchers and mutants and plans to show the world how evil that are by reverting Geralt back to his basic instincts- thinking when he lets lose the evil animalistic Witcher on the town geralt will massacre it

Jaskier gets thrown into the same cage as Geralt (now presumably murderous and primal) as the captors believe Geralt will rip him to shreds

Instead Geralt scoops jaskier up and cuddles him in a corner. Geralt, seeing jaskier is hungry, kills him some rats for dinner and jaskier has to politely decline much to geralts disappointment. Geralt, because he is leveled to his basic instincts, bring jaskier his lute to play after dinner as that is their nightly routine, he also tries to sexual advance on jask but when jaskier reacts he backs off continues cuddling

Yennefer and triss arrive to save them and she thinks that Geralt will try non consensual things w jask, bc she knows abt geralts feelings, so she tries to get Geralt to come through a petal with her without jaskier

Instead Geralt at the last second grabs jaskier and runs threw the portal where they end up in kear morhen with vesimir lambert and eskel

Yennefer leaves so her and truss can find a magical remedy and Geralt whisks jaskier up to his room on to his bed filled with furs and does not let him leave.

Eventually lambert comes to bring food to the two of them, since Geralt won’t let either of them leave his room, and Geralt now sees lambert as a rival since jaskier took food from lambert and not him (the rats)

Geralt becomes very protective of jaskier, almost to the point of violence, and eskel and lambert take turns watching over the two in geralts room, eskel sits inside but lambert mostly sits outside bc of geralts aversion to lambert getting near jaskier

Eventually Geralt gets restless and lures eskel into a fight, when they figure out the Geralt j needs some exercise they let him out of the keep, Geralt runs out of the keep, kills something and then come back to show jaskier what he’s killed like a cat showing off a mouse it’s caught.

When Geralt gets his cognitive function back he apologizes for his behaviour thinking he is an unforgivable animal who deserves Jaskiers hatred and disgust, as he spent the week hoarding jaskier in his bed and trying to kiss him.

Jaskier says that Geralt “stopping his sexual advances because he knew jaskier didn’t want it was not the argument Geralt thought it was” regarding geralts perceived unforgivable behaviour while under the influence

cue happy ending

Please someone know this fic I remember it being so good

[fangirleaconmigo]

First off- I adore your Witcher Meta. It's exactly the kind of stuff I love to read and you lay it out SO well.

So that makes you the perfect person to ask: is there any canon backing up the common headcanon of Geralt (or other Witchers) not being able to cook well?

Ahhh thank you so much. I still get a bit self conscious about how extra I am, how detailed I can get, so I am very grateful I’ve found people just as nerdy as I am 😅

As far as book canon only, the only Kaer Morhen witcher I can remember being referred to as a bad cook, is Lambert! (People can correct me if they remember something else obv)

In general, it seems like they eat pretty well.

For Triss’s first dinner at Kaer Morhen, they served her “beer potage, thick with croutons and cheese,” and they drank cider, all of which sounds amazing.

The Geeky Chef made this potage which yes, looks absolutely delicious.

Then for breakfast the next day they served her porridge.

Kaer Morhen doesn’t have servants (maybe they did in the old days when the mages were there but not anymore) and they cook for themselves and so I feel like they eat quite well, even during long winters. Maybe rustic and simple but comfort food.

My headcanon is that Vesemir is the best cook, due to his experience and patience and role in caring for the keep. But I think Geralt, Eskel, and Cöen are no slouches, and if you let them make the meals they love, they feed each other well and put their little individual flourishes on there. I mean Geralt LOVES food. I can put a “Geralt and Food” post together if anyone is interested.

But as for Lambert, here is what Cöen says in Blood of Elves. He is training Ciri and they’re getting tired and starting to think about dinner.

“I’m not tired, I’m hungry.”

“Bloody hell, so am I. And today’s Lambert’s turn and he can’t cook anything other than noodles…if he could only cook those properly…”

So it seems like they take turns, and that at least Cöen does not look forward to Lambert’s turn.

Me, I’m a Lambert. My sisters get together usually weekly to have dinner and whenever I volunteer to cook, everyone else “kindly” insists I do not go to the trouble. 😂😂😂😂

If I remember correctly, TWN put a little reference to this into season two. However, I haven’t rewatched S2 yet so don’t quote me on that.

Also, I must mention at this point @artanisnaanie has a fic called In the Kitchen of a Keep in the Mountains. She is a nerd about medieval cooking and the fic has a chapter and recipe for each character and it’s really fantastic. I recommend checking it out!

Thanks again ♥️

[unrealwasteland]

Rules: Choose any three fandoms (in random order) and answer the questions, then tag 10 people you want to know better

i was tagged by @thistableforone, thank you so much! 😇 (and sorry it's taken me forever!)

I choose:

the terror

a song of ice and fire

the witcher (i'm mostly familiar with book canon and tw3)

the first character you loved:

it took me a while to start recognizing any characters. probably goodsir or fitzjames?

it's been so long i'm not sure. let's say arya, i feel like she's always been my girl

geralt, but i think it still took me a while to warm up to him

the character you relate to most:

...i'm not sure about relate, but i sure project a lot of stuff on dundy and/or edward

brienne has some relatable qualities but she's also like 100x more amazing than me

probably someone like (book) triss because she has some kinda pathetic moments lol (but she also has her sweet moments!)

the character you'd slap

i feel like many of them could be slapped at some point in the story. but i'll choose dundy when he and edward first bring up leaving the sick behind. while james is still alive!!

so many but especially theon in the early books

geralt when he's being a stubborn idiot with the "geralt's company" characters

three favorite characters in order of preference

james, dundy, ned

arya, brienne, theon

geralt, ciri, and uhhh i can't really decide between dandelion, yennefer and milva

a character you liked at first but don't like anymore

idk. there are characters like goodsir that i liked in the beginning, and i just don't really think about him in fandom context, but i wouldn't say i don't like him, you know?

i can't really think of any

again, i'm not sure there are any

a character you did not like at first but now do

probably all of those guys i didn't recognize at first?? i also can't remember what i thought about fitzjames when i first started watching, but i could see him going in this category

i think i was kinda lukewarm on sansa but i appreciate her these days. also possibly theon, but i've loved him for so long that i'm not sure anymore

cahir! he's soooo poor little meow meow material, i love him. but i definitely didn't expect to start liking him

three OTPs

fitzier, fitzconte, joplittle

arya/gendry, jaime/brienne, theon/robb

i've mostly read geralt/emhyr and geralt/eskel fics. i'm also kind of intrigued by the enemies-to-lovers possibilities of ciri/cahir

no pressure tags:

@zaegreus @homosneksual @saintdundy @maedhrus

@fredoesque @charlesdesvoeux @flyingbodysymphony

@joondemiel @norsevibes @thedailylifeofafailedvodkaaunt

and anyone else who wants to do this! ✨ (also, i know some of these are side blogs, feel free to do this on whichever blog you'd like)

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

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

Awww, that's one of my favorite tag games, thank you! Sooo. My favorite five?

5. I do think that Find Me Naked In My Virgin Misery is quite funny. Geralt is pining, he's asking his friends for advice how to get it on with a man... and regardless the title, people seemed actually surprised with the plot. 😂

4. Die, Die My Darling is definitely one of my favorites, I think whenever somebody passes this game onto me, I mention it. We have assassination attempts on Emhyr, funny scribbles on Geralt's and Emhyr's wedding portrait, a crazy cat and Emhyr get's strangely hot at watching Geralt fight.

3. I was quite surprised that I'm Here To Burn Down The Past has received more than the usual 30 kudos, because not only is it once again set in my own headcanons (married Emhyr/Geralt, Triss as the court sorceress, my OC, etc.), it's a peculiar time travel story. I like it :)

2. Façade is for whatever reason a fic I really enjoyed writing. Maybe because it's a Modern AU, I really love those, they are fun. This one is Letho/Eskel.

1. More than 300 people liked this one: I've Been Wounded, I've Been Healed is a classic enemies-to-lovers, and whenever I re-read it, I'm still happy with it.

Soooo what about you (and if I mention you please know that you can do your fav 5 deliberately, if you have less than tell me your fav!): @valandhirwriter, @regis-favorite-raven, @fortheloveofdeaddove, @definitely-not-iorveth, @beardedladyqueen, @enkelimagnus, @gleamingsilence, @humbae, @jayofolympus, @katiecat446, @namesonboats, AND whoever wants to, because I'm always forgetting people, not because I don't want to tag you but because I'm old :)

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

📝

A snippet from the next Don't know what's out there fic:

Jaskier’s hopes of sleeping in on his first day of vacation are dashed when he hears raised voices from outside just past dawn. He buries his face into his pillow and tries to sink back into the oblivion of sleep, then remembers where he is. Raised voices at Kaer Morhen could mean something interesting is happening. He’ll never forgive himself if the witchers are battling a forktail outside his window and he sleeps through the whole thing. Grumbling, he drags himself out of bed and across the room, pulling the curtains aside.

When he finds Aiden’s face hovering outside his window, he shrieks and stumbles back a step, tripping over his open suitcase and just managing not to fall on his ass.

“Morning, Jaskier!” Aiden calls and continues to scale the side of the keep, because that’s a normal thing to be doing at 7 AM.

Jaskier peers down into the courtyard and sees that the other witchers are also up and about, running through what looks like morning drills, which seem to involve Lambert lunging at Eskel and getting himself Aarded into a snowbank, while Geralt and Coën have a comparatively mellow swordfight next to them and Vesemir watches from the sidelines.

It would be very impressive, if Jaskier had had his morning coffee yet. As it is, he pulls on some pants and shuffles down to the kitchen, muttering about witchers. He finds Triss and Yennefer already sitting in the kitchen.

“Is this normal?” he asks them.

Triss gestures to the coffee pot. “They’ve relaxed a bit in their old age. They wait until after dawn to start up.”

“That’s because I threatened to turn them all into eels if I got woken up by Lambert setting off bombs at 3 AM ever again,” Yennefer says.

WIP It Good

[dadralt]

First of all, I don't get what so great about jaskier either, there are far better and more fascinating characters, especially in games and books, and lots of them. So my question is: is this only in the show bc I'm not sure if dandelion is popular among the book fans or the gamers. I think characters like Regis, Eskel, Lambert are far more popular and of course Yen and Triss and Ciri are again way more popular and the lodge too.

ooh interesting question!

if you look at ao3 before december 20th, 2019 (air date of s1) there were 586 fics with the witcher book tag, and 1,480 fics with the witcher video games tag.

for comparison, the witcher tv show tag has a whopping 22,144 fics, to this day.

it should also be noted that tw3 was what made the witcher gain popularity worldwide. if you check ao3 stats before the third game, there were only 11 works (and only 3 of those are in english).

the most popular pairings: book - games

even if you check jaskier's character tag you see there are fics, but not a lot (his character tag has been used 73 times vs geralt's 377 in the books tag)

the fan wars let's be honest, at that point, were yen vs triss (because of the games)

then you compare it to the most written pairings now:

see how he's involved in practically every pairing? (with of course the very stark difference between geralt/jaskier and yen/geralt, that's more than 18k of fics!!!!)

he's the second most written about character, after geralt!!! (notice how ciri - the actual main character of the books - is only 6th)

so i would say, yes. the popularity of jaskier is entirely to blame on the netflix show ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[kuwdora]

I’d love to hear about any of the Leshkel fics!

Okay I am gonna try not to foam too much at the mouth with all my excitement. You and I Becoming is my Ciri and Leshen Eskel story that will also feature a lot of Eskel and Triss friendship and begin exploring Ciri’s and Eskel’s magic. This story is about learning to leave behind the person you once were and living with the uncertainty of who you're becoming. It’s about Ciri not understanding her powers and having someone who isn’t her father figure that she can speak candidly about Geralt, witchers, and a witcher’s worldview. It’s also Eskel having still experiencing a lot of memory loss/cognitive dissonance about who and what he is and also start showing us how Eskel can perceive magic now. I started this draft literally 12 months ago and a few thousand words scattered around and it’s currently in the wrong tense but I’m gonna be fixing this up shortly ‘cause god. I need Eskel to live through all of season 2’s events. I am OBSESSED with Leshen Eskel. OBSESSED. And not just in a let's fuck Geralt with tentacles way (though I am also obsessed with that, alright!!!) but I just... I love trees so much. 😍 One of the main plot points will be Triss arriving to help Ciri learn about her magic, and also help Eskel figure out how to ground himself to his memories. And probably speak to a little of Triss’ own struggles with surviving Sodden. In my short Leshkel fic Driftwood, I implied that runic magic engraved on his body is what is helping him stay tethered to his sense of self. And that’s something that I would be unpacking in this story with him, Triss, and Ciri. This fic will most likely span the first half of season 2, probably through the time Rience shows up at Kaer Morhen. I am in love with Guardian Leshen Eskel arriving to fuck Rience up before he can attack Triss and Vesemir and steal the magic blood. Tree witcher+fire mage=bad times. But it’ll be really intense and interesting. In my first Leshkel story Heart Tap, it’s heavily implied that Eskel is not a very reliable narrator and that he’s “seeing” other characters from different Witcher canons and Eskel is experiencing a slip of other canon/fanon Eskel’s memories. This experience kind of grows more potent when he’s near Ciri. This is basically riffing of Ciri as Lady of Space and Time and Eskel having a connection with Ciri and whatever’s in the mutagens/monolith dust that are part of Eskel’s DNA. Ciri’s connection to the monoliths means she’s connected to Eskel. All that handwavey goodness. So here’s a brief, messy snippet. Eskel and Ciri go on midnight walks together through Kaer Morhen. --

Eskel peers at Ciri with his single eye, and now it’s his turn for uncertainty. There’s an oddness surrounding her body, an indecipherable scent and a kind of negative pressure that he used to associate with a mage opening a portal.

“You roam the keep at night. More than I do,” Ciri says and Eskel nods and settles against the wall. The night is too cold for him and he isn’t sure if he’ll ever get used to it.

“Do you have nightmares when you sleep?” she asks.

Eskel takes a minute to think about his answer. He doesn’t quite sleep anymor. His awareness never really goes away when he’s idle during the night.

“I have memories. Which I suppose can be the same thing,” he says.

Ciri nods. The medallion embedded in in the bark of his chest doesn’t react to Ciri’s presence. As long as Eskel doesn’t look directly at her, he can sense more oddness about her body. She doesn’t have a glow or aura. It’s still that negative pressure. Maybe a scent of—not soil, not the copper in somebody’s blood—but something else. Something that lingers in the air.

“Geralt said this was a safe place for me, for us. Everything I’ve seen is… not what I expected,” Ciri says quietly.

WIP Game List

[echo-bleu]

If I see one more Valentine’s ad, I’m going to scream. Why does a job posting board need a Valentine’s sale?

Anyway, I wrote a very aro fic for the last flash fic round (aroace Geralt, alloaro Jaskier, modern AU, friendship). So if anyone else feels bombarded by the amatonormativity right now, this is for you.

Read here on AO3. Title from The Amazing Devil’s Secret Worlds.

Do I have to be who I am?

Geralt leans against the steering wheel and glances at the clock. 3:52, the display glares back at him, momentarily too bright for his eyes. He unlocks his phone and checks the calendar again. Group therapy. Friday 4pm.

He needs to go in. He still has to find the room it’s held in, probably fill in more forms – he’s never filled as many forms in his life as he has since he’s come back from Sodden.

He doesn’t want to move.

Come on, you can’t just stay in the car all afternoon. If nothing else, your leg won’t thank you.

Geralt sighs and extirpates himself from the driver seat of his truck, careful to straighten his leg and watch where his foot lands. He grits his teeth through the first few steps – those are always the worst – and it gives him an excuse not to think as he builds up momentum.

The building is nondescript, four-story, walls washed with an off-white colour turning yellow with time. The front door is automatic, and it opens before him with a swoosh . Geralt looks around, but the lobby is narrow and entirely empty. It’s a residential area, and the letter boxes affixed to the back wall mostly carry people names, not businesses. He squints at it until he finds the name he’s looking for, but the sign doesn’t give a flat number, much less a floor.

Well, there should be people around he can ask. He heads to the elevator and pushes the first floor button.

The first floor corridor is just as nondescript, the walls a dull grey, but there’s an open door. Inside, rather than a flat, Geralt sees a large room with a few tables in the middle and a row of computers at the back. A young man, his back to Geralt, is pinning a rainbow flag to a giant cork board on the wall. He’s humming to himself, his dark brown hair bobbing in rhythm.

Geralt stands in the door frame for a few seconds, trying to gather the courage to speak up. Before he can, though, the other man whirls around.

“Where’s the— oh, hi there! Come on in!”

“Is this the… group therapy?” Geralt tries, his voice coming out as more of a croak.

The man’s face falls. “Ah, no, I’m sorry. You want to go upstairs for that. But Shani’s ill today, so I’m pretty sure it’s been cancelled.”

“Oh.”

They both stand there awkwardly for a moment. Geralt isn’t sure what to do. He came all the way here – it took him the whole day to psych himself up to it, if he’s honest with himself – and he doesn’t think he’ll be able to try again next week. Maybe he’ll write it off as a failure and give up.

He needs it, though. For Ciri. For Vesemir and Eskel and – for himself. Fuck. Triss abandoning him like that, even though he understands her reasons, really put him at a loss.

“You can stay, if you want,” the man says suddenly. “I don’t really think anyone’s coming, anyway.”

It’s a bit blindsiding, and Geralt stumbles over his words. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, uh, LGBT+ group. I’m trying to set something up for the students, but the Academy wouldn’t let me put up posters or announcements on their socials, and all I could get was this place, Shani’s art therapy room. It’s way too far from campus. I did my best to advertise, but fucking Marx keeps getting in my way. So I don’t think anyone’s coming.”

“Hm. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s okay. I didn’t even introduce myself before dumping that on you. I’m Jaskier.”

Geralt steps into the room to shake the offered hand, getting a better look at this Jaskier. He’s wearing a bright blue bomber jacket over a yellow band t-shirt, and a pair of dark jeans so skinny that they’re barely there at all. On his jacket are a solid dozen pins and badges, all brightly coloured. Geralt notices the one that says he/him and what he thinks is a bisexual flag.

It’s not until he feels the weight of Jaskier’s curious gaze on him that he realizes he never answered.

“Geralt. I should probably go. If the session is cancelled.”

“I don’t want to pry, especially not with Shani’s clients, but was that your first time?”

Geralt sighs. “Yeah.”

“Well, I can’t offer therapy, but I know very well how nerve-wracking it is to come to a first appointment, and having to go home empty-handed like this has gotta be tough. Can I offer you a glass of water, at least? Orange juice? That’s all I have.” He waves toward a grocery bag on one of the table.

Geralt hesitates. His leg aches fiercely, and the drive back will be hell if he doesn’t give it a break. Jaskier looks at him with puppy eyes, and Geralt realizes that he’s almost as lost, left alone with his flags and his orange juice.

“Alright.”

Jaskier flashes a bright smile. “Come sit down, then.”

He serves them both orange juice in paper cups while Geralt lowers himself onto a seat. The plastic chair is uncomfortable as hell, but at least he can stretch his leg under the table and put the pressure off of it.

“Doesn’t the Academy have an LGBT society or something?” he asks, racking his brain on a way to make conversation.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jaskier sighs, sitting down across from him. “But it’s lead by fucking Valdo Marx. He’s an asshole.”

“Oh.”

“I was the president last year, but I had to step down to focus on my dissertation, and he’s… he’s the kind of gay guy who thinks the society should be for the gays and maybe the lesbians, and everything else is just splitting hair.”

Geralt eyes the badges haphazardly pinned on Jaskier’s lapel. He doesn’t know what the other flags mean, but he can recognize them as flags. “And you disagree.”

“Of course I disagree!” Jaskier lets out, indignant. “What, you’re one of those too?”

“No, I’m… straight. As far as I know.”

“Oh. Well, every group needs a token allocishet, even if you’re apparently also the only member beside me.”

Geralt blinks. “...Okay. What’s allo… what?”

“Allocishet. Straight, cisgender and alloromantic and allosexual.”

“I know straight and I’m pretty sure I understand cisgender, but what’s the rest?”

Jaskier smiles and points at a flag pin on his jacket, in shades of green, grey and black. “That’s the aromantic flag. It means I don’t feel attracted to people romantically. Alloromantic is the opposite, everyone who isn’t on the aromantic spectrum.”

“You don’t… fall in love with people?” Geralt asks, trying to wrap his head around that.

“No. It doesn’t mean I don’t love them, but just not romantically. Asexual and allosexual are the same for sexual attraction.”

“But you’re not that?”

“I’m alloaro. Allosexual, aromantic. Bisexual, to be precise. I feel sexual attraction for all genders.”

“Hm,” Geralt says, because it’s the only thing he can think to say. “Didn’t know that was a thing.”

Jaskier grins. “That’s okay. I’m always happy to teach these things! Maybe today won’t be a waste of time after all, if you go home knowing something new. Let me show you.” He takes out his phone, whose case is decorated with glitter and a unicorn playing guitar. He types something and holds it out for Geralt to see the screen. “That’s the ace flag.”

“Ace for… asexual?” Geralt asks, sounding the word out.

“Yep! There’s also a lot of variation inside the aro and ace spectrums, and people who don’t differentiate, but that’s maybe a bit much for today.”

“Hm.”

Geralt turns this over in his head. There are people who don’t feel any sort of attraction? It must be rare, if he’s only finding this out at thirty-five. Right? He doesn’t exactly spend his time talking about relationships with the people in his life, but it seems to him that none of them ever expressed something like that. Lambert came out as pansexual at fourteen, very sure of himself. Eskel has had relationships over the years, however short-lived. Even Vesemir talks about the men of his youth.

Yen… Well. Fourteen years of marriage has got to be proof of concept, right, even if it ended? Yen was certainly physically attracted to Geralt, once upon a time. Romance… Their relationship wasn’t particularly romantic, but what’s romantic attraction anyway?

“What’s the difference between romantic and sexual attraction?” Geralt asks abruptly, realizing too late that he interrupted Jaskier mid-sentence. A sentence he was very much not listening to. “Sorry, I—”

Jaskier waves dismissively. “It’s fine. I don’t know if I’m the best person to explain, since I’ve never felt one of those, but it’s like… When you look at someone you’re attracted to, do you want to kiss them? Cuddle them? Or have sex?”

“Uh… I don’t know?” Geralt scrambles to think of someone. With Yen, only the memories come to mind, sleeping side by side, the vanilla sex they quickly got bored of and the kinkier side she showed. And, overwhelming everything, the spectacular arguments that ended in their divorce. What attracted him to her? She’s beautiful, sure, but it was never about that. She was there. She didn’t take any of his shit. He was on leave and she wanted sex.

The men of his unit had magazines full of scantily naked women, but Geralt never looked at them. He had Yen – surely that was enough? And since the divorce… Well, it’s not like he’s hanging around in bars. Or cafés. Or anywhere he might meet someone new.

“Nothing? When you see a good-looking woman in the street or on an ad or something?”

“Er…”

“It’s alright, Geralt, it’s totally fine. But… you might want to look into this further. Just saying. Most people can answer that pretty readily. Or at least they’ll start blushing.”

That’s what makes Geralt’s face heat. “I’m not… I’m normal,” he says. But he knows as soon as the words come out of his lips that they’re the wrong ones.

Jaskier’s face falls. “Right.”

“No, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that.” Geralt internally winces at the thought of telling Lambert or Vesemir that they aren’t ‘normal’. “I just, um. I don’t know about this. I was married for fourteen years. I can’t be… whatever.”

“I don’t think it’s mutually exclusive,” Jaskier says softly, more kindly than Geralt deserves. “Especially if you didn’t have the words for it. Society expects us to be one way, and we often conform whether we mean to or not.”

“You don’t.”

“I did, for a long time. I tried to do what my parents wanted, study law and settle with a nice girl. I lasted all of one semester. But it wasn’t until I met others like me that I started letting go of those expectations.”

“So what did you do?” Geralt asks, genuinely curious.

“I stopped pretending. Got an ADHD diagnosis, picked up my guitar and toured the Continent for a few years. I had sex with a lot of random people who didn’t care about sticking to the norm. Then I came back and started studying music. Now I’m a grad student.”

“Wait, how old are you?” When he said he was part of the Academy, Geralt assumed he was faculty, not a student. Not that he looks old, but there’s a set to his shoulder, a way of carrying himself, that makes him seem like he’s seen more than his share of life.

“I’m twenty-nine,” Jaskier says. “I started late. It just means I have fewer fucks to give, especially to shitheads like Marx.”

Geralt nods. “Are there a lot of older students?”

“A few in each class. Especially in grad school, but even as an undergrad I was rarely the oldest. Why, you’re thinking about studying here?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” Geralt shrugs. “I got discharged from the army a while ago. I can’t live on my pension forever and I don’t know how to do anything else.”

“You have a major in mind?”

“Not really. I never went to college the first time around, I enlisted right out of high school.”

“Well, if you’re into Music, or Literature, or History, or pretty much any of the humanities, I know everyone, I could show you around at least.”

Geralt smiles vaguely and nods, fairly sure that it’s one of those times people offer something without any intention of following through. They only met half an hour ago, by mistake. Jaskier hardly wants a disabled vet following him around.

But instead of moving on, or showing any signs of wanting to Geralt to leave, Jaskier insists on exchanging phone numbers. “If you have any questions about the Academy, or about sexual orientations,” he says with a wink.

And he fills both of their cups again.

Geralt leans back on his uncomfortable seat and finds out that he hasn’t thought about therapy, or really about any of the myriad of things that have been troubling him, since he sat down. Jaskier chats about everything and nothing, about his friend Essi who is talking about starting a band with him, about his dissertation on medieval troubadours, about his volunteer hours at the refugee centre. Geralt tells him, just a little, about his tours, about his brothers and his father, about Yennefer and Ciri.

“You have a daughter? Oh, that’s wonderful! How old is she?”

There is nothing feigned in Jaskier’s enthusiasm, nothing but real warmth and interest.

“She’s six,” Geralt answers, swiping through his phone for a recent photo. On it, Ciri is riding on Eskel’s shoulders, giggling, with her horse plushie in her hand. “I only have her every other weekend since the divorce.”

He misses her, but he was gone for even longer swatches of time when he was deployed. It’s better this way. He doesn’t think he’d be capable of raising her fully right now, and that was the one thing he and Yennefer didn’t argue on.

The divorce, when it came, was both inevitable and overdue. Yennefer stayed through his rehab – and Geralt is infinitely thankful for that, but eventually, their hours-long, violent arguments started taking their toll on Ciri. And Ciri takes priority over anything else, for both of them.

“Wow, she’s adorable!” Jaskier exclaims. “She looks so much like you!”

“She’s adopted,” Geralt deadpans, because he never fails to find it funny to see people’s face fall at that.

Jaskier barely falters. “Oh. Well, I guess you get that a lot.”

“We do. But it’s all just a coincidence.” One that amuses but also annoys Yennefer to no end, especially when people assume that she can’t be Ciri’s mother. “Yen and I couldn’t have children of our own. We’re both infertile.”

“So you decided to adopt?”

Geralt shrugs. “Sort of. We tried for a long time, and then a friend of ours named me godfather of her baby. That was Ciri. She and her husband died in a car accident not long after she was born.”

“Oh. Wow. I’m sorry.”

“It was a while ago. But that’s how we got her. If we hadn’t, I think we’d have divorced a lot sooner. Yen really wanted a child. I never really did, but… I thought it would make her happy. I was away so much, but I thought, at least Ciri would always have her. She’s a good mother.”

Something sad passes through Jaskier’s face, but he shakes it off. “I was an unwanted child,” he says casually. “Runt of the litter, too, until I had my last growth spurt. My parents are… Well, I haven’t seen them in ten years. But I can see that you love Ciri very much.”

Geralt isn’t sure what to do with that – is it just an attempt at sharing? A warning? A criticism? In the end, he does nothing. Jaskier moves on to a random story about an older woman who tried to sponsor his music in exchange for sexual favours.

“I wasn’t even against it until she tried to make me move in with her and do all the romantic shit,” he says. “But the second I started pulling away, she cut me off.”

“Maybe for the better,” Geralt says dryly.

“But can you imagine? I could have become famous! All the great artists of the past had rich sponsors!”

“Did they all have sex with them, too?”

Jaskier snorts. “I mean, it probably happened a lot. What about you? Any other adventures than with your ex-wife?”

“Hm,” Geralt grunts. “No.”

“None?”

Geralt blushes. It was a contention point with Yennefer, once upon a time. She was his first, and he definitely wasn’t hers, even though she’s a couple of years younger. And now she’s dating again – which is why Triss gently ended their session, she couldn’t very well continue to be the therapist of her new girlfriend’s ex-husband – and Geralt isn’t. Isn’t even considering it.

“No.”

Jaskier hesitates for a beat. “Okay. That’s totally okay, you know that, right?”

“Hm.”

“You met after high school?”

“You’re still thinking that I’m a-whatever,” Geralt growls.

“Well, yeah. It wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

Geralt stays silent. It wouldn’t be so bad, he supposes. Except that something in him tells him that if he starts considering it, he’ll take a step into a bottomless precipice. That he’s at the edge, he’s been hanging onto that edge for months, and if he lets go, if he lets himself explore this… Or any of the other things that Triss brought up…

He might never reach the bottom.

“Alright,” Jaskier relents.

Geralt wonders how they got there. Why is he opening up so much to this man that he just met? They haven’t dug particularly deep into anything, but it’s the first time Geralt has talked this much to anyone since…

Since. Since the divorce, since his injury, maybe. Before that, even – when was the last time Geralt made a friend that wasn’t in his unit, under his command?

A friend. It feels like a novel thought.

“You know, all the good songs and books are about these grand love stories,” Jaskier says, following his own track. “I love them, but I’ve never been able to have that, myself. It’s a process, accepting that you’re not going to get those things. It’s a kind of grief.”

“Love stories suck,” Geralt says, because no one could accuse him of being eloquent, and now Yennefer is on his mind.

“You suck,” Jaskier shoots back childishly.

Geralt snorts. “Well, yeah.”

“Geralt, is that a particularly poor attempt at not-straight innuendo or is it self-hatred?”

“Hm.”

“You’re really not much of a talker, are you?”

Geralt shrugs. “Probably talked more today than in the last three months combined.”

Jaskier beams at him. “Does that mean you like me?”

“No.”

“Oh.” Jaskier averts his eyes briefly, and Geralt can see him compose himself and look back like nothing happened.

“Talking doesn’t mean I like you,” he corrects, beating himself, “but I didn’t say that I didn’t.”

Jaskier gives a little laugh. “Alright. You should study rhetoric, or something.”

“Maybe.”

“Could suit you. Or logic? Are you good at maths?”

Geralt shifts in his chair, flexing his aching leg. He’s been sitting down for too long. “I should go,” he says without answering.

“Oh.” Jaskier looks at his phone. “Gods, were did the time go?”

“Where it usually goes, I would wager,” Geralt answers, letting the corner of his mouth rise.

Jaskier’s muffled laughter is rather adorable.

“What would you say to grabbing dinner?” he asks.

Geralt hesitates.

“Not like, as a date or anything. It’s just that it’s almost 8 and I haven’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Do you even date?” Geralt asks, stalling as he tries to figure out how to answer.

“Kinda? Some people don’t feel comfortable having sex repeatedly without dating, and I’m not, like, romance-repulsed or anything. I just don’t feel attracted that way. I love romantic books and love songs as much as anyone.”

“Hm.”

“So, dinner? If you’re totally sick of me after three hours and just want to go home, that’s totally fine. But if you’re afraid that I’m just offering to be polite, I’m really not. I like you and I have no other plans.”

He says all of that without stopping for breath, too fast and too rambly, but it hits Geralt in the stomach nonetheless.

When was the last time someone wanted to spend time with him because they liked him? And he likes Jaskier back, there is no denying it. Not in any sexual or romantic way – though, would he even know? – but he likes Jaskier’s unashamed attitude, his enthusiasm and his awkwardness, his empathy. It’s been three hours and it already feels like they’ve known each other forever.

“Alright. I can do dinner.”

[gil-galadhwen]

Lady Of The Marred Moon [An Eskel Fic]

Chapter 5 - When The Weathers Just Right

Catrin settles in for her first night at Kaer Morhen, but after overhearing a conversation in the kitchen, she thinks perhaps the witchers aren't that happy about her being there after all. Especially one witcher in particular…

It's not Lambert despite the gif 😆

Read here...

(Dividers by @saradika-graphics)

[limerental]

ficletober 2022 day 22 - trissbert ft. yennskier (and background relationships)

It's a less than peaceful morning at Kaer Morhen with Triss and Lambert up to their usual bickering. Except not everything is as it seems.

aka just a really self-indulgent, ambiguous canon, they all lived in KM like it was 2020 nonsense fic.

Mornings at Kaer Morhen were ordinarily a subdued affair, the groggy residents of the keep struggling to shake off the winter sluggishness. The sun never quite rose over the crags of the mountains, and shadows loomed in the poorly-lit halls. No one quite had the energy for rousing arguments and wrestling matches until at least noon.

Except, it seemed, Triss and Lambert.

"Nitwit," Triss hissed under her breath, leaning toward him across the table. "Muttonhead. Dullard."

"Are those the best insults you know, Merigold?" drawled Lambert at what he seemed to think was decreased volume. "You learn those at your little rich girl witch school?"

"It's not a– I know plenty more insults than that, you peabrain."

"The best you've got is piss for brains?"

"Peas, you insufferable Witcher. Peas!" Her cheeks were flushed red. "The vegetable. Though perhaps you're unfamiliar. Your cuisine seems to suggest so."

"If you're so displeased with our slop, why don't you slither back to your banquets?" He dug a heaping spoonful from her bowl of groats and shoved it in his mouth, comically full cheeks somewhat ruining his smug expression.

Triss made a disgusted noise as he smacked his lips loudly, chewing with his mouth open.

"What's happening this time?" Geralt grumbled to Eskel from the other end of the table, both of them considering retreating to distant parts of the keep. Yennefer and the bard had yet to show, and Vesemir woke early enough to avoid all of them and had already disappeared into his study. 

"They were shouting at each other in the hall last night," said Eskel, slumped over a bowl of steaming groats.

"About?"

"Something stupid, probably. What are they on about now? Fruits?"

Triss and Lambert had given up on hushed morning tones and devolved into a full-blown argument.

"A potato is not a fruit by any metric, you imbecile."

"It's round. It's got skin. Comes from a living thing. Fruit, Merigold."

"A tuber," says Triss with decreasing patience, "is not a fruit. And that definition is nowhere near--"

Lambert is busy listing things that are fruits on his fingers.

"Tomato, cherry, apple, melon, potato, bezoar–"

"Bezoar?!" Triss' voice reaches an alarming pitch.

"Well, I mean. Technically. You harvest them from a living thing. People spend a lot of money for them. They're round. Fruit."

"Not even by your own definition does that make any–" 

"Sometimes not everything's all neat and tidy little boxes, Merigold."

"A bezoar is not a fruit."

"An egg is a fruit."

"You are insufferable. Intolerable. You're–"

Geralt and Eskel had shuffled farther away down the table from the discussion, leaning into one another to whisper.

"This is worse than usual," said Geralt, brow drawing together. "Do you think we should intervene?"

"Be my guest," said Eskel. "But Triss is wielding that spoon like she's a second from scooping out somebody's eyeball, and I don't think she'd discriminate."

"Probably right," grumbled Geralt. He stared into his bowl. "Is… an eyeball a fruit? By Lambert's definition."

Eskel stared at him. 

Lambert and Triss, meanwhile, had escalated to a full-blown tiff, complete with exaggerated gestures and pinched facial expressions. Their faces were flushed beet-red.

The bard chose that moment to enter, looking artfully disheveled in a way Geralt knew he perfected in the mirror before leaving his room. He took one look at the arguing pair and wrinkled his nose in displeasure.

"Augh, already? Isn't it too early for catfights?"

Yennefer was not far behind Jaskier, looking pristinely unruffled. Also perfected in the mirror before leaving her room. She regarded the scene before her, eyes narrowing.

Saying nothing, she ladled a bowl of groats from the pot, sprinkled it with dried apple, and settled beside Eskel at the table. Jaskier flopped half in her lap, nearly unsettling her bowl, and she flicked him in the temple.

"Sit your bony backside somewhere else, you little jester," she said. 

"Ow," whined Jaskier, wiggling headfirst into her lap instead. "What's their deal, then? Woke up on the wrong side of the cold, dismal slabs you people call beds?"

"They're fucking," said Yennefer mildly. "They're having sex."

A chorus of disbelief rose from their end of the table, and Triss and Lambert sputtered in protest, both deepening to a further shade of red.

"As if I would ever–"

"You don't know what you're–"

"With this absolute buffoon of a–"

Yennefer rolled her eyes.

"If they haven't yet, they would like to. You're not anything approaching subtle," she said. "Both in the other's space incessantly. Insults used as endearing little nicknames. Bickering as a form of flirtation. Barely withheld lust in your heated tirades."

She ran her hands through Jaskier's hair as she spoke. The whole table stared.

"It does seem fairly suspect," the bard said, yawning. "Everyone knows the inherent eroticism of–"

Yennefer flicked him again, even as she sctatched at his scalp.

"Pipe down. The adults are speaking."

"There's nothing–" Lambert makes a vulgar gesture. "--eroticist about anything happening here."

 "It's erotic, you dunce," Triss huffed.

"Ah, so you're admitting it."

"No!"

"Blatant admittance there."

"Yep, clear as day."

"Geralt?" Jaskier asked. "What's with the very intense broody thinking face? Have I got cobwebs in my hair again? If any of you ever got out a broom, that wouldn't happen, now would it? What are you staring at?"

"Fuck," Geralt said. "You two are–"

Eskel cackled, slapping him on the shoulder. "And he's got it. Only took him a damn month."

"Got what," said Lambert.

"It's obvious," huffed Triss, still very pink. "They're–"

"Fucking," said Yennefer with a tug on the bard's hair.

"Is that all that our indecorous, clandestine union is to you, my wretched lady of the night?" Jaskier pouted.

Lambert gagged. Triss blushed. Geralt had turned a weirder shade of grey than usual. Eskel thunked his head against the table and continued to cackle.

Then, Ciri appeared in the doorway, her hair a wild rat's nest of bedhead, scurrying into the hall with a suspicious look.

"Is there no training today?" she asked. "No one came to wake me."

"Aha, you little twerp." Lambert grinned. "Finally admitting you pretend not to know how late it is."

Ciri planted both elbows flat on the table and leaned her chin on them, her expression overflowing with cheeky, ev glee.

"My room's next door to Triss," said Ciri. "I could tell everyone here what I was forced to overhear last–"

Geralt recovered from his afflicted state in no time, hostility palpable in the air. Lambert leapt back from the table at once.

"To the training yard, girl!" he barked. "Last one there shuts up and never mentions this again."

Ciri dove into a sprint, bounding over the casual leg Triss stuck out in an attempt to trip her, and Lambert followed at speed, Geralt shouting after them with both hands on his hips.

"Ha," said Eskel, shaking off his last snickers of laughter. "Speaking of catfights. Wait 'til she meets Lambert's other half. Bound to get ugly."

Yennefer hummed. "One of the most powerful sorceresses on the Contininent has her on a leash," she said. "Lambert should worry, if anything."

"Or," said Jaskier with a wagging finger, "they all agree to a polite and agreeable polyamorous arrangement where all parties consent to a communicative, open arrangement and all are wholly emotionally and physically satisfied."

The four remaiming in the hall stared at one another.

Several hours later, Vesemir braved a return to the great hall to prepare lunch. He stopped in the doorway, sighed deeply at the indecent sight before him, and turned on his heel to dissappear back into his study.

Perhaps he could get away with staying in there until spring finally came.

[bambirex]

Maybe Loving Is Sharing: Chapter 10

Pairings: Geraskefer, Geraskier, Yenralt, Yennskier

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Triss Merigold, Vesemir, Eskel, Lambert, Coen

Additional tags: genderbending, alternate universe - modern setting, polyamory, matchmaking, pining, unrequited love, or is it?, mutual pining, friends to lovers, awkwardness, fem!Geralt, fem!Jaskier, bunch of helpless sapphics, everyone is confused, crushes, disability, emotionally constipated Yennefer of Vengerberg, oblivious Geralt of Rivia, oblivious Yennefer of Vengerberg, oblivious Jaskier, everyone is fucking oblivious, insecurity, misunderstandings, lack of communication, light angst

Rating: mature

Full word count: 16, 976 words

Chapter word count: 1,679 words

Chapters: 10/16

Summary: The plan is simple: help your best friend get together with the girl of her dreams. What could go wrong?

Well, when everyone is confused and pining but also very oblivious, pretty much everything.

Chapter summary: Difficult conversations are had.

Author's notes: This fic is going to be finished one day, I promise.

Read on Ao3

*

It was a surprise Yennefer even agreed to see them again.

Geraldine has completely given up on it- on Yennefer, on Jaskier, everything. After the disaster that happened in Jaskier's flat, Geraldine was convinced this was it. What she was so scared of, actually happened. She did lose her best friend as well as the love of her life. Maybe communication wasn't always the key, or she just truly sucked at it.

After days of wallowing in self-pity and constant doubts, she got a text from Jaskier asking her to come see her, and she apparently invited Yennefer as well. Just reading the text made Geraldine's heart jump with nerves. She had no idea what to expect, but somehow she was sure not a great day was ahead of her.

Jaskier and Yennefer were already waiting for her in the small café. Geraldine swallowed when she spotted them sitting together at a table. They both looked gloomy, sitting way too far from each other. It appeared as if they haven't even spoken a word to each other since they got there.

With Yennefer being so distant, and Jaskier freaking out after their kiss, Geraldine didn't blame them. But that didn't mean her heart didn't ache all the same.

She approached them slowly. Jaskier looked up at her, with an unreadable expression on her face. Yennefer stared down on her hands, picking at her black nail polish.

"Hey," Geraldine's voice came out weak as she greeted them. She pulled out a chair and sat down in front of them. She wiped her clammy palms on her jeans, fidgeting in her seat with discomfort.

The silence seemed to stretch on for hours. Geraldine barely dared to look at the other two.

"So," Jaskier eventually started, "I figured we should all put an end to this mess."

Geraldine looked up. Jaskier looked uncharacteristically sad, her usual bright smile nowhere to be seen. Geraldine hated seeing that look on her face

"End to it...?" Geraldine asked carefully. Jaskier nodded, biting her lower lip.

"Yeah. I mean, that's the smartest decision, isn't it?"

"It is," Yennefer replied. She was still looking at her hand, her eyes distant, tired. "You guys deserve so much better than this."

She finally looked up, something like guilt seeping into her eyes.

"I'm sorry, to both of you. I know you guys wanted something different, something more. That's not what I wanted."

Geraldine tried to ignore the ache in her chest that amplified with each passing second.

"What did you want, then?" She asked, already dreading the answer. Yennefer sent her a glance full of guilt.

"Sex. Nothing else."

Geraldine closed her eyes for a second. Maybe if she opened them again, she would find out this was all just a dream- but clearly, this was more like a nightmare. Honestly, what did she expect? She was right when she said relationships weren't for her. The first time she seriously considered entering one, it all backfired, blew up in her face. She truly fell for Yennefer and she truly loved Jaskier as more than a friend, and what did it get her? A confession that broke her heart.

"Nothing else?" Jaskier checked quietly. She stirred her Frappuccino, her eyes sadder than Geraldine has ever seen them. "Not even for a second?"

Yennefer was silent for a while. Her own coffee remained untouched, going cold as she sat above it with a gloomy expression, guilt and sorrow radiating off her.

"No," she eventually said. Every word she said was like a dagger straight into Geraldine's heart.

"I did find both of you endearing, that's true. But I'm not built for relationships, and I know you want something more, Geraldine. And I wish... I really, really wish I could give you that. Because you deserve it. That safe, steady relationship that you need. But I can't give you that. I can't... I can't give either of you that."

She looked at Jaskier fleetingly. "I never really knew what to make of you, but I did know that I was very attracted to you, and I didn't have very innocent intentions with you, either. Two things were clear to me right away: you played matchmaker for Geraldine, trying to get her and me together, but you're also in love with her."

Jaskier made a small sound at the back of her throat. She pointedly avoided Geraldine's eyes when she tried to look at her.

"And Geraldine is in love with you, too. I don't even understand why you guys don't get together. Why chase after me, when the best thing is right in front of you? You're just wasting your time with me. You're both such amazing people. Seriously. And that's why I'm telling you this, because I don't wanna keep playing with either of you."

She swallowed heavily. Her lips wobbled, but she pulled herself together with a sharp intake of breath.

"That's my explanation. I was not looking for anything serious, and I never will be. I'm sorry."

"Yen..." Geraldine whispered. Her throat was tight around her name, and she wasn't even sure what she wanted to say. She was bad at reading social cues, that was for sure, but she truly believed that maybe something could've come out of her and Yennefer. That Yennefer felt the same - but apparently, she was wrong. And she dragged Jaskier into this for no reason, she forced her into this stupid game for a woman that wouldn't even consider her feelings. It was all pointless, much ado for nothing.

"My turn, then," the pain was evident in Jaskier's voice. Geraldine desperately wanted to hold her hand, but after their disastrous kiss, it was clear it was better not to do that.

"Yennefer, you're right. I played matchmaker. Geraldine asked me to, because she immediately developed a massive crush on you. And I helped her, of course, I did. Because she's my friend, and because..."

She took a shaky breath. Geraldine noticed that she was blinking rapidly to try and keep the tears at bay.

"I'm in love with her. Of course I am. But I was ready to let it go for good. I didn't wanna come between you two. I didn't wanna be a burden."

"You're not," Geraldine said quickly. Unable to resist the urge anymore, she grabbed Jaskier's hand. Her heart leapt up to her throat. "But when I kissed you, you..."

"Geraldine, don't," Jaskier warned her softly. Geraldine felt her heart shatter when Jaskier yanked her hand out of her grasp. "I know why that kiss happened. You wanted to get over Yennefer rejecting you... rejecting us. Because, for fuck's sake, I like you, too, Yennefer. And that's the worst part, that I'm trying to shove myself into an equation that doesn't need me."

"There's no equation," Yennefer told her. "I just told you, I'm retreating. I don't want a relationship. I can't... You should go for each other."

"Well, no, because I feel like Geraldine would only pick the donkey because the horse ran away," Jaskier scoffed. "I don't want to be a last resort. I kept pining for you all my life, Geraldine, but I'm done now. I'm still your friend, but please, keep me out of your love life. I can't handle this."

Geraldine was sure she was going to pass out. First Yennefer telling her she never had genuine feelings for her, and now Jaskier confessing that she did - but somehow, she was scared of those feelings.

"I love you both," Geraldine whispered. She sighed heavily. Instead of the weight from her shoulders disappearing with relief after she said these words out, she just felt wrong. It felt almost pointless to tell them now.

"But I know it doesn't make sense. I can't have both of you. I never could, and now this is clearer more than ever. One of you never loved me for a second, the other did but wouldn't believe I could ever feel the same way. And you're right, this is a mess, and maybe stopping this is the right choice, after all."

She looked up at them. They all looked just as miserable as she felt. Jaskier's eyes were wet with tears. Yennefer's cheeks went pale.

Geraldine wasn't even sure what she was supposed to feel when Yennefer finally stood from the table and left. She limped a little, and leant more heavily on her cane. Geraldine offered her an arm but Yennefer refused, making her exit still as quick as possible. All Geraldine knew in that moment was that she felt empty, hollow. Like someone just ripped out a piece of her.

She carefully searched for Jaskier's eyes. Those beautiful, blue eyes that were full of sadness as they peered up at her from under long lashes.

"Are we still friends, then?" Geraldine asked quietly. Jaskier sniffled softly before she nodded.

"We are."

That, at least, was still in one piece, if everything else fell apart. But even that felt bittersweet, because Geraldine knew that these revelations, and everything that led up to them would affect her friendship with Jaskier heavily. Things would never be the same again. They both knew how the other felt now, but instead of being happy about it and falling into each other's arms, it just made things even more complicated.

And there was Yennefer, the missing piece that clearly meant a lot to both of them, but who did not feel the same way. Geraldine wished she could be mad at her, but she found herself unable to be.

She just felt extremely disappointed and wished she could turn back time to the day she met Yennefer, and that she could somehow erase that moment. Or, maybe even further back, the day she met Jaskier. Because if she didn't meet these wonderful women, she wouldn't have fallen in love with them and wouldn't have ruined everything, wouldn't have broken her own heart.

Geraldine wanted both of them, and in the end she got none of them - wasn't this just beautifully ironic?