#geraskier pirate

[thedemonofcat]

The pirate ship Kaer Morhen, captained by Geralt of Rivia, gets an intriguing offer: a job to transport a mysterious cargo across the sea for a significant reward. Geralt accepts, but he's taken aback when he discovers what—or rather who—the cargo is.

The precious cargo turns out to be Julian Pankratz, the Viscount of Lettenhove, who needs to be ferried across the sea to meet his arranged marriage obligations. It's not as straightforward as it seems; Julian, who prefers to be called Jaskier, has a knack for escaping. Geralt and his crew are tasked with ensuring he doesn't slip away during the voyage.

Initially, Jaskier is treated like just another piece of cargo, confined and monitored. But as the journey progresses, he begins to connect with the crew. Geralt and Jaskier, in particular, form a bond that grows deeper with each passing day.

Their mission to deliver Jaskier becomes increasingly complex when it's clear that Geralt and Jaskier's feelings for each other go beyond friendship—they are in love and perhaps destined to be together

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 4

Geralt is the captain of a pirate ship, named "Kaer Morhen." Perhaps he's still a witcher, perhaps he's just a regular old human (with white hair and golden eyes? Lol) His brothers (and "cousins" from other witcher schools) are his crew Now I can see this going two different ways, so choose a favorite (or make up your own, I am only the beginning, I hold no affront of being anything more) Jaskier is a nobleman's son, aboard his family's ship, possibly on his way to be forced into a marriage to a woman he doesn't love. And either he falls overboard or he's shoved off as a murder attempt, but he's lost in the ocean. Lambert (or someone else, but I love to imagine how Lambert would attempt to call this out to his captain who he doesn't take seriously 90% of the time, #brothers) calls that he spots a man bobbing in the sea, and they haul him up. The majority of the crew sees sight of his jewels and finery and insists on holding him ransom. But when the prisoner wakes up and isn't afraid of death, Geralt looks into this a little more. Apparently their prisoner won't get a ransom because his entire family despise him and his want to run away and become a bard. Funny. Most pirate ships have entertainers aboard to help the pirates deal with months of nothing but ocean. Perhaps they'll have use of this dumb twink after all. OR, option number two Jaskier is a nobleman's son, chained and starved for the crime of wanting to become a bard and not wanting to marry some prissy noblewoman. He hears a lot of loud noises and screams and then a bunch of burly men in fur cloaks stomp down and start rifling through their supplies. One catches eye of him and immediately yells to the captain. The captain is a very handsome man with silver locks and bright eyes, and the dreaded pirate captain is treating Jaskier with more kindness and gentleness than his family or their workers ever have. The pirate hauls Jaskier up into his arms and carries him to their own ship, laying him down in his own bed, and looking over his injuries and sending one of his crewmembers to make hm a fine meal. Jaskier begins telling the captain of his abusive life beforehand and mentions that all he's ever wanted is to spread music and love, and shockingly enough, this big scary (gorgeous) man doesn't even laugh at him for it.. Oh fuck he's falling in love-

♡!Optional addons!♡ • Geralt gayly teaching his bard how to swordfight!!!

• Perhaps Jaskier's family is crueler and has done more than beat him, perhaps they've stabbed him or something, and the very last thing he sees before he passes out from bloodloss is Geralt (Maybe he even thinks he's an angel! Lmfao)

• Geralt getting lovingly bullied by his brothers for taking care of his songbird so well

• Geralt's crew revenge-robbing or revenge-killing Jaskier's family if we do Option one for the story (attempted-murder route), since it's implied it happens in Option Two while they ransack the ship-

• Perhaps I'll do a sequel for this prompt one day for Mermaid Jaskier, I do LOVE mermaids, take this as a much smaller and much less detailed prompt for if you want that idea, too! Perhaps the Pankratz ship has a captured mer aboard, parched and dehydrated (I just mostly think it'd be funny if Geralt was checking his pulse and if he has any injuries while random other witches dump buckets of sea water on him-)

[tielmamon]

ok ok but have you ever thought about Ed sitting down at some bar with his crew all intimidating and heartbroken when suddenly he hears someone singing about “After everything we did, we saw. You turned you back on me, what for?” and “Watch me burn all the memories of you...” he turns to see Jaskier close to tears on stage with the same exact anger and hurt that he’s been feeling ever since Stede left him on that fucking dock-

Then, ignoring Izzy’s protests he goes up to the bard and opens up because for some reason, he feels like this man just gets it and of course Jaskier does. They bond and eventually, Blackbeard offers him a spot on his crew. And Jaskier, looking to get away from everything and finally give Geralt his blessing of taking himself off his hands agrees. 

u ever just think of that sometimes? no? ok

[solarphase1]

More of Geraskier pirates or something -

“Who are you, anyways?”

His captain and captor peered at him under a too-big jeweled crown, lounging upon the day's hoard. The question was flat, but his eyes were curious. The moonlight reflected first from the water’s surface, then second off of the gold and jewels. It bounced around Jaskier in all directions, and he looked truly in that moment, and for the first time since Geralt had seen him, like he may not be entirely human after all.

“A sailor from Rivia. As I told you before.” Geralt hummed the response regarding the other from where he was still bound to the mast.

“Except you aren’t Rivian. Wrong accent.”

Jaskier stood, gold clinking with the movement, and within a few steps crouched down to eye level while displaying something in his hand with a small flourish.

“And these are letters of Marque, from your coat. Which, I’m guessing, makes you about the poorest bounty hunter of the era,” his eyes narrowed, with curiosity rather than malice, “you don’t even get the bounty.”

Yellow eyes leveled him cooly at the accusation, “Sailor.”

“Privateer,” Jaskier tucked the papers away once again, standing to full height. “And you’re not human either. So what in the devil are you?”

The man did not give an answer for a while, pondering something. Perhaps wondering if he should lie. Then, after a moment -

“Witcher.”

Immediately Jaskier scoffed a disbelieving laugh. “No,” a finger wag and disapproving chuckle, “witchers don’t exist.”

He was met only with a flat, blank, unwavering and…truthful stare. And silence. He stared at Geralt a moment in that silence before sputtering back to life with breathy denial.

“No, no - you are most certainly not going to sit there and look at me as though I’m the one being ridiculous here. Sure, you’re a Witcher, that should be simple enough considering the only standing Mythos - the mere MYTH of Witchers - is, what, 2000 years old??”

“So you do know your history.”

“Mythology,” the captain corrected as he ceased his pacing and looked, really looked at the strange man. A moment of thoughtful silence. Something wary, something fearful behind blue eyes. “Prove it.”

“Untie me.”

“Ah, so that's it then,” He was back to banter, “quite a flimsy escape plan I really must say I’ve heard better - HAH - silly Jaskier, almost falling for the ‘I’m a Witcher,’ play, oldest move in the book…” His little monologue teeters out as he falls back on his pile of gold.

“What am I going to do with you? The Not-Witcher from Not-Rivia…”

[thesaintofnevergettingitright]

Hey legit question: I’m probably 2/3 of the way through my fic and I want to finish it this week… would anyone be willing to beta??

A) I need the external motivation lol and B) I’m desperate for some feedback from someone familiar with both fanfic in general and The Witcher more specifically.

I would pay you in eternal gratitude???

K thanks bye.

[buffskierights]

aw, you guys want to read it? well that's really sweet here's the link right here:

the moon bleeds red (for those who fear the dead)

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

Did my part to vote the fuckers out!! Fingers crossed, and I would love some Geraskier or OFMD, whichever you want. Thank you for doing this!

HURRAH, good job 🎉 lets get those bastards GONE

I've gone for a character/thematic mash-up for this one. Let's see if it works. Added this one under a cut because it's a little longer!

------

Jaskier stared at the book in his hand. The pages danced in the fast, salt-spray wind coming from the ocean as his ship ploughed through the rough seas. Droplets landed on the fine paper, smudging the inky name scrawled in a child’s hand.

Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.

He’d been so proud of it, back then.

With a sigh, he let the book drop into the turbulent waters below. He did not stop to watch it sink.

“Any progress?” he dropped down onto the lower deck, his pristine shoes clicking against the polished wood.

Priscilla, his first mate and dearest friend, gave him one of her Looks. “Slow,” she said. “But we are gaining on them. In fact—” she handed him the spyglass she had been looking through. “They look as if they’ve stopped. Thoughts?”

Jaskier took the glass and held it to his eye. The ship they’d been following - slightly smaller than The Lark with grubby-looking sails - had indeed appeared to have stopped and let down anchor.

“Perhaps they want to parlay,” Jaskier said, folding the spyglass with a decisive click.

“Perhaps.”

He strode up to the bow to get a better look. As he watched, the Lark finally catching up, he noticed a dark shape being run up the flagpole.

The flag was black, jet black. In the centre was a white wolf’s head, jaws open in a snarl.

Ah. Shit.

—

“And you are, what?” the short-haired man glared down at him. “A merchant? A jumped up little prince?”

Jaskier struggled against the ropes binding his wrists.

“Actually,” he spat, with as much venom as he could muster. “I am a pirate. Maybe you’ve heard of me: I am the Bard.”

The man burst out laughing. “And I’m a fucking siren,” he said. “Come on. Captain wants a word.”

He hauled Jaskier to his feet and shoved him forwards. 

“Wait—”

“What is it, little prince?”

“I will speak to your captain. But if you harm my crew—”

“You’ll what, sing us to death? Kick me to bits with your pointy little shoes?”

“Don’t fucking tempt me.”

The man laughed again, then pushed Jaskier towards the cabin nestled at the front of the ship.

“See if you can impress the Wolf with that clever tongue of yours, Bard,” he snorted. “You’ll need it.”

With a final shove, Jaskier fell through the open door. It slammed behind him.

“Perhaps we can make a bargain.”

He spoke before the captain - before the Wolf - could, hoping to distract him, hoping to gain the upper hand. Yes, he was bound, but that didn’t mean he was defeated. Not yet.

“A bargain?”

The voice from the shadows at the far side of the cabin was low and dark.

“Yes,” Jaskier said. “We are alike, you and I. Both pirates, both doing what we must to—”

The man snorted. “You are no pirate.”

“I think you’ll find—”

The man stepped into the light, and Jaskier’s words died in his throat. He was sure he’d been about to make a witty retort, but it had sunk and vanished.

The Wolf was the most singularly striking man he had ever seen. Long, white hair framed a chiselled face, a strong jaw, a firm brow. There was a scar across his eye, a wound long-since healed. And what eyes. In this light, Jaskier could almost swear they were yellow.

He remembered the other pirate’s words: see if you can impress the Wolf with that clever tongue.

Something hot and tight squeezed in Jaskier’s stomach. He took a step forward.

“Surely…” he took another step. All that lay between them was the captain’s table, strewn with papers. “...there must be something you want from me.”

[d-andilion]

sing me a tragedy

(geraskier, E, canon compliant, blood origin spoilers, getting together, angst with a happy ending, vague and handwavy smut, it barely counts tbh, 2.6k)

read on ao3

Hidden in the underground, far from the beaten path, Geralt watches his bard whip a crowd of humanity’s most despised into a beer-fueled frenzy. Not to earn their supper or their lodgings this time; the elf who owns this worn but well-loved waystation refused to accept coin for either after what the Sandpiper did for her grandson, seeing the boy on a ship to her arms. Right now, Jaskier plays because their fellow patrons chanted his name until he obliged. 

Geralt has to admit that Jaskier has more than proven himself as a travel companion these past few weeks. Since leaving the safety of Kaer Morhen, Ciri in Yennefer’s care for the season, finding places to keep their heads low has been a challenge. A challenge, at least, among humans. The Sandpiper, however, has won great favor with elves, dwarves, halflings, and just about every other intelligent species on the Continent. In their carefully concealed taverns and speakeasies, Jaskier is received like royalty.

“Sing loud and proud

The Song of the Seven

Be you halfling or gnome,

Or Dwarven or Elven”

This song is a new one. In fairness, most of Jaskier’s tunes are new to Geralt these days. Jaskier hasn’t abandoned his older repertoire, but he avoids large swathes of it to ward off any unwelcome attention. This one, though, feels different than the other additions to Jaskier’s catalog since their parting. More heroics than heartbreak, and a fiery call to action that sets it apart from his typical drama and sensation.

So much about Jaskier is different than Geralt remembers, his songs being the least of it. A few years is nothing in the grand scheme of their history, even less compared to all the years Geralt has lived, but it feels as though decades have slipped between his fingers. So many things have changed, things that Geralt didn’t realize he’d come to see as fixtures in his world until they disappeared, some of them forever. 

There’s the lute, for one thing. Jaskier has been cagey about how exactly a brand new elven lute came to be in his possession after the first one was destroyed against the side of his head, but it plays as beautifully for him as Filavandrel’s ever did. It’s nearly identical in style, too, with dark wood and golden patterns etched into it. Anyone who didn’t spend half a lifetime watching Jaskier’s long fingers dance along the strings would never be able to tell that this lute’s pattern of markings is different from its predecessor’s.

There’s the outfit, too. The waistcoat is similar enough to patterns and styles that Jaskier has worn before, but the hat and jacket make him look like a third-rate imitation of a storybook pirate. It’s nothing at all like the bright-colored matching ensembles he used to wear, though it’s nearly as impractical if not more so. Geralt honestly can’t tell if he hates it because it’s ridiculous or because it doesn’t fit into the gallery of bold greens and soft blues and glaring reds that roll through his mind when he thinks of his bard.

And there’s the bard himself, of course. Not really Geralt’s anymore if he ever was. He’s still loud and dramatic and filled to the brim with useless romantic notions about what the world is or ought to be. But there’s something lurking underneath it all now, something harder and fiercer behind his eyes than anything Geralt has seen in him before. The harshness of a man who’s seen the senseless death and darkness of war. The bitterness of one who’s been left behind and expects to be again.

There’s none of that in him when he performs, though. Or else he hides it far more efficiently. Even to Geralt’s honed eye, Jaskier exudes only joy when he sings.

“No oppressor can hide them

Carry their glories and rise!”

Jaskier finishes with a roaring flourish and the crowd chants his words back to him twice as loud. This Song of the Seven may be more popular than Toss a coin ever was. Geralt has never seen an audience warm so quickly to a new tune, much less poor folk in a war-torn country. These people need hope now more than anything.

The barkeep pushes a pair of ales at Jaskier as he passes by and refuses to take a cent for them despite Jaskier’s best efforts. He finally gives up when she threatens him with a broom, turning to Geralt’s dark corner of the room. 

“That’s new,” says Geralt as Jaskier sits down, passing a stein to his side of the table.

Jaskier crooks an eyebrow at him and smirks. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

Geralt doesn’t know what to say to that. Before, he might not have thought twice about teasing so light as that, but this, too, has changed. Sometimes there’s banter and sometimes there are digs from that snarl of discontent that still rears up between them, and Geralt can never really be sure which he’s getting.

Jaskier takes pity on him, smiling easily. “It came from a story I heard in Temeria,” he says. “There’s a bard in it, you know. And a witcher.”

He looks for a moment like he means to say more, but then the corner of his mouth twists sharply and he snaps it shut with an audible click. Jaskier smiles again, this time cruel and close-lipped. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says.

Before Geralt can think of anything to say, any comfort or correction to whatever it is he’s done wrong this time, Jaskier stands up and flees to a nearby table of dwarves. He doesn’t look back.

An hour or so later, the revelry dies down and the bar room clears out but for a few stragglers. Jaskier is among them, across the room now from Geralt at an empty table with a drink Geralt knows is almost completely full. Geralt watched the bard carefully while he made round after round of the room, soaking up the occupants’ stories and sharing his own entirely fabricated ones. Half a dozen rounds were shoved into Jaskier’s hands, and he took them gratefully with bright smiles, but he abandoned them just as quickly when their givers were occupied.

When Geralt found Jaskier in Oxenfurt, he couldn’t be parted from a bottle for his life. Now his drinking comes and goes. Some days he dulls his senses with wine from dusk till dawn. Some days are like this: feigning all the trappings of a man in his cups without downing more than a mouthful. 

Geralt leaves his own stein half-full with a few coins beside it and turns for Jaskier’s table. Another Geralt might have left his friend to sulk, but that Geralt wouldn’t have used the word ‘friend’ to describe Jaskier, not even in his head. This one is trying to make amends, still, all these many months later. 

If Jaskier hears him coming, he doesn’t show it. Geralt sits on the bench beside him, facing out towards the room with his back against the table, and Jaskier doesn’t give him so much as a glance. Their shoulders just barely brush.

“Tell me your story,” says Geralt. “About the bard and the witcher.”

Jaskier fixes him with a confused frown. “It doesn’t—”

“Tell me anyway.”

Geralt watches Jaskier watch him through a long, pregnant pause. Blue eyes, still so bright in the low light, search Geralt’s face and he can’t tell whether they find what they’re looking for or not. Either way, Jaskier huffs a humorless laugh to himself and speaks.

“It was a long time ago, just before the Conjunction.”

Jaskier pauses again like he’s waiting for Geralt to correct him. There were no witchers before the Conjunction; there was no need for them. Geralt doesn’t say so, though. Instead, he waits patiently for Jaskier to continue.

“The witcher was a warrior,” he says. “A protector, wrongfully exiled for defiling a princess.”

Jaskier eyes Geralt again, warier this time. Geralt feels that twist in his gut the way he always does, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“The bard was a runaway, fleeing a life that was chosen for her.” Jaskier grins at that, small and wistful. “Fate brought them together, but they chose to walk side by side.”

It’s not a pretty story, exactly, but it’s the kind of story that has always caught Jaskier’s attention. A ragtag group of heroes, an indomitable foe, magic, monsters, and romance to tie it all together. It might even be true for all Geralt knows. The way Jaskier tells it, his voice soft and his phrases unembellished, so unlike his usual way of weaving tales, makes the whole thing almost believable. They’ve all seen stranger things.

Geralt doesn’t miss the shift in the air around Jaskier when he talks about the Lark and her witcher. His heart beats just the slightest bit faster and his scent deepens imperceptibly to anyone who doesn’t know it better than their own. Geralt isn’t blind to his own reaction either, the heaviness in his chest that grows and grows.

Contrary to popular belief, Geralt isn’t stupid. It’s not that he doesn’t know how much he wants Jaskier. The depths of that desire plunge too deep to go unnoticed, and it has holed up inside him for so long, he doesn’t know who he would be without it. It’s not that he doesn’t know how Jaskier feels either. The bard isn’t subtle and he has never insulted either of their intelligence by pretending to be.

What Geralt doesn’t know has never been the problem. It’s what he does know. And what he knows, has always known, is that acting on his wants would be a singularly terrible idea.

But that was before. Before Geralt’s own Child Surprise foretold the end of the world and all of them with it. Before he landed with his own feet in another sphere of demons and monsters beyond his wildest imaginings. Before all of them wound up tangled in a war with nightmares, more terrifying than any foolish mistake, hidden around every corner.

Before Geralt knew what it felt like to lose Jaskier. And before he knew with crushing certainty that to have done so without ever knowing what it felt like to have Jaskier, really have him, is worse than any fear Geralt has ever felt.

“She killed him, in the end, to end his suffering,” says Jaskier softly.

“Not a very happy story,” Geralt replies.

“Some of the best stories are tragedies. It’s romantic.”

Geralt frowns. “But he dies at the end.”

Jaskier smiles miserably. “I think you and I both know that love doesn’t always have a happy ending.”

That plucks something sharp in Geralt’s chest, something that twists at the bitter shadow in Jaskier’s eyes. Fuck it, Geralt thinks, fuck all of it. He takes Jaskier's chin between his thumb and his forefinger and kisses him before good sense can frighten either of them away again. 

There’s a gut-wrenching fraction of a second where Jaskier’s mouth is still against Geralt’s, but within the same heartbeat, he’s kissing back and back and back. Jaskier’s hand curls around Geralt’s wrist, holding himself in place as if Geralt would ever let him go now. His lips part for Geralt’s tongue with a soft groan and he tastes like his last sip of ale. Geralt feels drunk on it, on Jaskier, the plush warmth of his mouth, and the scent of his growing arousal filling Geralt’s nose. 

The harsh scrape of chair legs on a wooden floor startles them apart. Geralt’s head snaps up to find the barkeep straightening her stools, eyes focused downward but a knowing grin on her lips.

When he turns back, Jaskier hasn’t pulled away but his uneasy expression says that the thought is playing on his mind. He looks at Geralt like he’s waiting to be pushed away, even as he clutches Geralt’s wrist. Geralt pulls Jaskier back to him, fingers still cradling the bard’s chin, until their noses brush. 

“What are you doing?” Jaskier asks and his hot breath rolls over Geralt’s lips carrying the taste of his mouth to Geralt’s tongue, and even that faint echo makes Geralt’s heart stutter.

“Kicking off another tragedy, I expect.”

Jaskier pushes their foreheads together. “You can still stop this one.”

“No,” says Geralt and it feels like surrender. “No, I can’t.”

The small hearth in their room is dark and cold when they stumble inside. Geralt can see well enough to guide them both, but he tears himself away from Jaskier’s hungry kisses to light the fire. When it’s finally ablaze and he turns to find the bard sprawled out on their bed, discarding the last of his clothing, Geralt is glad he took the time. 

Even if only in the dim red light, cast over with long and flickering shadows, he wants to see this.

This—miles of bare skin, calloused and scarred in places it wasn’t when last Geralt laid eyes on it, and quivering as he presses his lips to every place he should have been there to protect. Jaskier is so warm to touch, so much warmer than Geralt, his emphatically human heart hammering away in his chest for both of them.

This—achingly familiar hands with long fingers and soft palms, gliding over the shine of sweat on Geralt’s chest and his arms and his back. Jaskier is so gentle with his touches, as though Geralt could break beneath them, as though Jaskier would ever break him even if he could. But then Geralt touches just so and nails bite into his skin and he longs to see their matching bruises side by side. 

This—a hungry mouth that kisses wherever it can and urges Geralt to give, to take. Every graze of his fingers, his lips, his tongue, draws the sweetest sounds. Jaskier is so liberal with his voice, utterly without shame as he tells Geralt exactly what he needs and how good he feels, as he begs him to touch me darling, there, again, more, more, please, please, please…

Every sense, every synapse, every nerve is straining to capture this moment because if their world ends tomorrow, Geralt wants his last memory to be the way Jaskier clings to him, sings to him, as he pushes inside.

Each second stretches into a thousand and disappears in an instant all at once. An eternity is lived in the space between each of Jaskier’s gorgeous moans and breathless cries, but too soon, Geralt feels himself hurtling over the edge. He comes with Jaskier’s name on his lips and the hot burn of tears behind his eyes.

They lie there, silent but for their breath, while their sweat dries and the fire burns to embers. Geralt fits himself to Jaskier’s back, a knee between his, an arm circling his waist, and his face tucked into the crook of Jaskier’s neck. The bard reaches back to tangle his fingers in Geralt’s hair and begins to hum an unfamiliar tune.

“That’s new,” Geralt rumbles, muffled by Jaskier’s skin.

Jaskier hums in agreement. “I think it’s about a bard and a witcher.”

Geralt takes a few long, slow breaths before he replies. “Another tragedy?”

Jaskier presses the tips of his fingers against Geralt’s scalp and massages along the back of his head until he finds a spot he discovered years ago while scrubbing drowner brains from Geralt’s hair, the one that elicits a sound very near purring. Geralt no longer expects an answer, but he gets one after his eyes have long fallen shut, whispered into the gathering darkness.

“Not this time.”

~~

my masterlist

[thetardigrape]

Tagged by @ghostalservice to share my favorite fics I've written. A truly lovely tag game!

I've written a lot, most of it OFMD, so I'll try to keep it brief while also covering a few fandoms. I love almost everything I've written so this will be a challenge!

OFMD

Made of Gold (Modern AU Lupete, 16.6k, E) Listing this first because I truly think it's my fave fic I've written ever. Pete is a tow truck driver and Lucius's car breaks down in his tiny New Mexico town. It's very cozy and sweet despite having a major theme of poverty. I meant to write a sequel but didn't quite manage it. 😅

What Kind of Pirate Has a Friend? (canonverse Jack/Ed, 30.8k, E) The first chapter fic I actually set out to write as a chapter fic. It explores Jack and Ed as teenagers and the friendship that developed between them.

Beasts (canonverse Sprizzy, 6.8k, E) I wanted to try a specific narrative voice, and I feel like I achieved it. Extremely kinky, first in a series.

Ace of Hearts (canonverse Gentlebeard, 27.7k total, E) My ace Stede series. Comments on this series still break my heart. I never expected to have such an effect on people.

Pirate Ships (SMAU Sprizzy, 2.4k, M) Written entirely in skins of Tumblr and Discord. I learned CSS for this. It's so silly.

In Service to the Crown (canonverse Hornberry/Shaw, 25.2k, E) Started as crackfic, took on a life of its own. I'm still the only author in this tag. These are basically OCs at this point.

Good Omens

Your Smile in Mine (modern human AU ineffable husbands, 64.4k, E) The longest thing I've ever written. It's given me the confidence to write an original novel. Crowley and Az are teachers at a boarding school.

Physiology Lessons (canonverse ineffable husbands, 12.2k, E) A fun series that explores the idea that Crowley and Aziraphale have never had sex but they have experimented with mutual masturbation.

The Witcher

It Will Not Be Because of Me (canonverse Geraskier, 9.1k, E) I don't really know what it is about this fic, but I come back to it over and over. Angsty ending that I took some steps to fix in a sequel.

When That Time Comes (canonverse Geraskier, 4.1k, E) Made myself cry writing this fic about Geralt trading in Roach for a new horse when she gets old. Would probably still cry if I reread it.

Staged

Yes, And (rpf David/Michael, 18.2k, E) Cannot believe I'm putting rpf on this list. But truly, I had a lot of fun with this one. I meant to end it on the angsty first chapter but luckily for my readers a second chapter fell into my head, so it has a happy ending.

And that's the list! It's long, but I've written 87 fics and over 850k words, so it's a bit hard to narrow it down!

Tagging @chocolatepot, @veeagainsttheday, @mirilyawrites, @mia-ugly, and anyone else who wants to play!

[ephhemeralite]

writing pattern tag game!

post the first line of your last ten posted fics and see if there's a pattern! thanks for the tag, @ful-crum !!!!!

not quite sure how i got here, real glad i've got more than ten fics posted (if only barely), excited to see how it goes

"Aziraphale bustles back into his shop with all of the energy of a raccoon holding a goodie they never expected to stumble across." – no skin like the skin you woke up in (gomens canon divergence au)

"Ed has spent the vast majority of his life as a pirate. Get as old and experienced as he’s gotten – far older and more experienced than he ever expected, mind you – and you form some opinions, about salt and the sea and the way of things." – and i feel so proud when the reckoning arrives (this is two lines so it's cheating but whatever 💚. very dumb black sails/our flag means death crossover)

"The first time Dick notices himself call for Batgirl and the wrong sibling respond, he doesn't think much of it." – no difference between the past and the ground (dick grayson thinks he's going crazy until he realizes [REDACTED])

"Tommy thinks that finding himself stuck through the Blood God’s sword – stuck through – should come as more of a shock to him than it does." – this is mostly what happens in dallas (au of my dsmp hero/villain major character death series where the major character death doesn't happen but it's still not great! hence the wtnv if he had lived title)

"Wilbur drops onto the couch with a groan and some sort of weird, histrion-type flail." – a gaze blank and pitiless as the sun (dsmp hero/villain au, companion piece to the actual mcd, probably my best piece of posted writing)

"He isn't looking for trouble today, but he isn't surprised when the blade of a sword finds him regardless." – the truth is like a sickle (it'll cut you to the middle) (dsmp hero/villain au with the mcd)

"The flickering lights of the tavern seem soft, in the late hours of the night." – drunk in a field (on dandelion wine) (unfinished 5+1 from a folk witch!jaskier universe that i got super super attached to but eventually let go of because my life kept getting more insane and the concept more intricate)

"Peter had spent a lot of time trying to psychoanalyze Neal Caffrey before his capture." – acquainted with the saint of never getting it right (white collar/batfam crossover, dick grayson is neal caffrey, my most popular fic by a chunk)

"Geralt can already tell that Jaskier plans on dragging them both out tonight, probably with quilt, to force him into a night of 'stargazing and communing with nature like we used to!'" – it could feel like an end (to have to keep going) (immortal/modern times geraskier au fic i haven't read since i wrote and posted it in a day. i think it's contemplations on mortality, helplessness, and the climate crisis?)

"Briefly, he contemplates sitting up on the couch to give himself better lung capacity for his incoming tirade, but figures that he may as well put his vigilante training to good use, and continues to lay back." – more like me (less like you) (technically the second line of an emotional conversation between dick and jason, but the first line was dialogue and it is too early for me to mess with quotation marks like that)

so, full disclaimer that i don't post a ton (no skin was last updated in august of last year and more like me was posted in july of 2021) so a lot of this writing is kind of old, but! i did notice that i've tended to open in media res, but recently i have been incorporating more exposition. i've never tried to make my first lines great hooks — i'm honestly more concerned with giving myself a good jumping-off point than anything else. it also struck me how many fandoms i've written for that i no longer engage with, basically at all. maybe i've just been really focused lately, but i don't think a few of these fandoms would hold my attention anymore! ironically, i'm talking about the more recent fandoms like dsmp/gomens/ofmd and not the older stuff like the batfam or the witcher.

this was really fun, i loved looking back through my work like this!! thank you again ful-crum for tagging me :)! i'm gonna tag @doingthewritethings, @b10000p, and @alavenderleaf !!!!!!

[thedemonofcat]

Pirate Au:

Jumping off a boat into the middle of the ocean to avoid being forced into Marriage was not what Jaskier had originally planned at the start of the day.

Neither was being picked up by a ship full of Pirates known as the crew of Kear Morhen.

But the pirate captain Geralt is rather good-looking.

Right now, Jaskier sure does plan to end his day in Geralt’s bed

[lilolilyr]

♡ pls reblog my fic posts ♡

This is my new fandom masterlist!

In alphabetical order, everything I write for:

Gen F/F F/M M/M

• Dracula

• Goncharov (Katfia)

•••• Good Omens (ineffable spouses)

• Gunpowder Milkshake, also on @floreleine

• Hacks HBO (Avorah)

• Hawaii 5-0 (McDanno)

• Holby City (Berena)

• Humans are Weird // Humans are Space Orcs

• James Bond (00Q)

••• Leverage

•• Lie to Me (Callian, Zoe/Gillian)

• Lord of the Rings // The Hobbit

• MCU (mainly ClintCoulson, Stucky)

•• Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (MacPhrack)

• Ocean's 8 (HeistWives aka Loubbie)

• Pirates of the Caribbean

• Pitch Perfect (Becommissar)

•• Sherlock (Johnlock, Shirene aka Adlock)

••• Star Trek

• ST Discovery (Milippa -prime, -mirror, -poly, -kat)

• ST DS9 (Kiradax, Kahndax, Kiradaxkahn)

• ST Picard (Saffi)

•• ST TOS (Spirk)

••• ST Voyager (J7, Chakotey/Tuvok)

• Star Wars

• The Devil Wears Prada (Mirandy)

• The Hunger Games

• The Old Guard (Andromaquynh, Andronilynh)

• The Witcher (mostly Geraskier)

• Warehouse 13 (Bering and Wells), also on @hgwellsmykabering

& more :)

A bunch of my fics are unfinished and Up for Adoption!

I don't just write but also make podfics, art, manips, moodboards and memes sometimes :D

If you want to be put on any of my fandom tag lists to be notified when I post something, let me know!

I'm always taking prompts, though much more likely to write for people who also support me by reblogging stuff and/or commenting on Ao3 of course ;) the ones in bold are my active fandoms that I'm mainly taking prompts for! You can also send other ideas though :)

I'm open to transformative works - podfic, fanart, continuations, AUs etc of my works - just click 'inspired by' if you post on Ao3 / link to my work on tumblr!

My favs • Ask me things! • behind the scenes • discord • Ao3

[dancingwiththefae]

2023 writing round up

Tagged by @loki-is-my-kink-awakening

I have written 30 fics this year (I included wips in this). All are the Witcher unless otherwise stated:

JANUARY

Love be brave (geraskefer, M, 2.9k)

Jaskier is held captive and tortured for information on Geralt and Ciri. Geralt and Yennefer are on their way to rescue him, but not before his resolve finally breaks.

Pearl and Verbena (ciri & Jaskier, Essi & Jaskier, T, 1.3k)

Geralt, Yennefer, Ciri and Jaskier head back to the Temple of Melitele for some respite. When Jaskier can’t sleep, he heads to library and finds a book that brings up memories he had tried to bury.

The price of justice (geraskier, M, 2.4k)

Jaskier lands himself in trouble again, execpt this time in a town that likes that adopts cruel methods of punishment.

APRIL

New beginnings, old friends (geraskier, E, 25.3k)

Geralt and Jaskier try to manage their new relationship, Jaskier's recovery from his blood addiction, and call upon an old friend to help.

Part 2 of Love & Blood

MAY

once is enough (geraskefer, M, 27.1k)

When the dust settles in Kaer Morhen and everyone returns to their routines, Jaskier is left alone. A spare part amongst the rest with nothing but the drink and his own neverending thoughts for company. He finds himself sinking further and further. But how long can you last in the sea of your own mind before you drown?

JUNE

Jewel of my eye (Anna Henrietta/Dandelion, M, 1.4k)

The palace of Beauclair is hosting a masquerade ball in honour of their guests, the hansa. Dandelion and Anna Henrietta are playing a game of their own.

A lucrative purchase (yennskier, E, 2.8k)

Jaskier visits a sorceress in Rinde, hoping she can create something specific for him. He gets a little more than he bargained for.

JULY

Then take me here (radskier, E, 1.2k)

what Jaskier and Radovid got up to in that scene

Light the fire (radskier, E, 1.7k)

After an evening of merriment, Jaskier and Radovid wander into the throne room where the prince has an interesting proposition for him.

Challenge the mighty titan and his troubadours (yennskier, M, ongoing - 11.6k currently)

Pirate Queen Yennefer discovers a stowaway on her ship. She plans on making an example of him, but it's a long way to their destination. And perhaps she is more interested in this man than she lets on. But nothing is ever smooth sailing in the life of a pirate. And politics, secrets and lies are never too far behind

Bitter water (yenralt, T, 742)

It had become some kind of game. This thing between them. Geralt and Yennefer always seemed to run into each other. They always parted wanting more

What it’s like to be you (yennskier, T, 1k)

Emotions are raw after the dragon hunt. Jaskier and Yennefer take comfort in each other, even if they would regret it the next day.

If he sinks to darkest night (radskier, M, 1.9k)

A prince gave up the life he knew for his siren until he could not

Sweet as wine (yenbrina, E, 1.8k)

Yennefer is bored at a dull court until she finds she has to bunk with her old Aretuza rival. You know what happens next

AUGUST

When you know I can’t love (geraskier, G, 731)

Blue eyes caught his from across the room. A subtle smile offered that Geralt could not return. Jaskier didn’t seem to notice.

These inconvenient fireworks (geraskier, G, 1.1k)

Jaskier is running late for work and in his rush he doesn't see the terrifying hulk of a man until his coffee is already down his shirt.

It’s not a want, it’s a need (geradskier, E, 2.4k)

Jaskier revealed a fantasy to Radovid that the prince was more than willing to fulfill. And he knew the perfect person to help him.

SEPTEMBER

here we go again (Jaskier/Vespula, E, 2.9k)

Vespula is mad at Jaskier after catching him in his latest tryst. He has a plan to make it up to her. But maybe she is the one making the rules of this game they play. And perhaps she has a few secrets of her own to share.

The beast you’ve made me (radskier, E, 4.1k)

Radovid didn't believe the rumour about the werewolf that was spotted outside of the city until he came face to face with it. He couldn't have predicted what would happen next. Nor the all too familiar face that would greet him come morning.

OCTOBER

You only need to ask (geraskier, E, 3.4k)

Geralt has seen the way the bard looks at him. And at other men. It's none of his business, of course. it was up to Jaskier to discover himself. But that didn't mean Geralt couldn't give him a little push in the right direction.

At the end of all things (milva & jaskier, T, 1.3k)

In a quiet moment in Brokilon, Milva and Jaskier come to understand each other

NOVEMBER

Lamentable (radskier, M, ongoing - currently 5.3k

The trajectory of Radovid's life takes a sharp turn when King Vizimir is killed and he ascends to the throne. The weight of expectations, whisperings in his ear, and a strained relationship trigger a rapid downward spiral.

Meanwhile, Philippa and Dijkstra's plans are all falling into place. They have the perfect king to mould. But it's time to cut some loose threads. Jaskier's life is in danger - and betrayal may come from the person he trusts the most.

Sins laid bare (Tomb Raider, Jacob/Lara, M, 2.3k)

Lara has been obsessed with the mysterious Prophet figure for a long time so goes in search to meet him. When he finally agrees to talk with her via a confessional, things escalate quickly.

A rosebud by any other name (geraskefer, E, ongoing - currently 50.6k)

Jaskier gets a client in a certain white haired witcher who just keeps coming back. The pair find themselves growing close. It's a little complicated, but they think they could make it work. Until one day, in walks a violet eyed sorceress looking for Jaskier.

What follows is an enlightening conversation, a precarious relationship, a new career and a little bit of subterfuge

DECEMBER

Spymasters and secrets (Dijkstra/Radovid, E, 3.4k)

Radovid always pushed and pushed Dijkstra. Sometimes he needed to be put in his place.

I’ll tell you no lies (Tomb Raider, Jacob/Lara, T, 3.3k)

Jacob, having been fatally wounded during Trinity's invasion, asks Lara to kill him. Lara grits her teeth and pulls the trigger. Then she witnesses something extraordinary.

In the bleak midwinter (yenralt, G, 2.9k)

Ciri had been down lately. With Yule coming up, Geralt and Yennefer decide to do something to cheer her up.

The eye of the storm (frinfran, M, 1.2k)

After escaping Thanedd, Francesca and Fringilla find themselves alone with only each other for comfort.

The sea and the sun (yennskier, E, 9.8k)

Finding himself getting into trouble while swimming in the sea, Jaskier is saved by the most captivating creature he had ever seen. A goddess. He makes it his mission to find her again and, when he does, he finds the goddess who saved him comes with a tail and very sharp claws

Mind, body, yours (Rience/Jaskier, geraskier, E, ongoing - currently 36.9k)

Jaskier wakes up tied to a chair, injured and no memory of what had happened. Rescue comes in the form of a strange mage who gives him refuge as he heals. Jaskier quickly finds himself falling under Rience's spell. And when he tells him that Ciri would be safer with him than with Geralt and asks him to take her from under the witcher's nose, Jaskier cannot say no.

Tagging a bunch of people I know write: @bambirex @swanfloatieknight @flootzavut @between-thepages @janjan-the-ninth @cherryjuicegf @damatris @kuwdora

[wren-of-the-woods]

Wren’s Geraskier Ficlets

🍀 Shorter Fluff

On Birthdays, Love, and Potted Plants | 1.9k | G | read on Tumblr  Modern AU fluff with Jaskier and potted plants.

I'll Stand Here With You | 1.7k | G | read on Tumblr Jaskier wishes he could find someone to be his, and Geralt finally realizes he’s in love.

Cuddles, Curses, and Confusion | 3.4k | T | read on Tumblr Geralt is cursed and it results in far more cuddling than anyone really anticipated.

The Wolves and the Bard | 0.5k | T | read on Tumblr The Wolves of Kaer Morhen adopt Jaskier as one of their own.

The Gift of Trust | 0.8k | G | read on Tumblr Geralt doesn’t know what to do with this bard who is not afraid.

Epilogue of a Love Song | 1k | G | read on Tumblr Geralt and Jaskier get their happy ending on the coast.

Pick Your Chords Well, Loves | 1.6k | T | read on Tumblr Geralt, Jaskier, Ciri, and Dara are quickly becoming a family, and Jaskier helps Geralt work through his feelings about that.

Publicity Pandemonium | 2.2k | G | read on Tumblr An eventful interview with Jaskier, a quickly-rising pop star, and the actor Geralt Rivia.

Flower Crown Fun | 0.3k | G | read on Tumblr A soft moment between Geralt and Jaskier in a field of flowers.

Dance With Me (I Want My Arm About You) | 2.3k | G | read on Tumblr Geralt loses a bet to Lambert and is forced to take a dance class. The instructor, Jaskier, is unexpectedly charming.

Grab the Stroud | 2.2k | T | read on Tumblr Jaskier decides to make a pirate ship in his and Geralt’s bed.

We'll Build a Den Out of Pillows (And Get Drunk Again) | 2k | G | read on Tumblr  Jaskier is sick, so Geralt builds him a pillow fort.

If It Means We Get The Wallpaper Right | 2.2k | G | read on Tumblr In which there are hand kisses and important conversations.

True Slug's Kiss | 2.3k | T | read on Tumblr Geralt is hit by a very unique (and slimy) curse, and Jaskier saves the day as usual.

 🌿 Longer Fluff

Of Beauty and Buteos | 7.2k | G | read on Tumblr (part 1, part 2)  A modern AU with fluff and birds.

Happy Birthday, Here’s a Bard | 5.2k | T | Read on Tumblr Geralt accidentally rescues his daughter’s favorite musician and Ciri gets a wonderful birthday surprise.

Oh It Seems To Me That You Can’t Dance | 5.3k | T | read on Tumblr Geralt and Jaskier have an awkward but perfect first date. 

🍁 Angst and Hurt/Comfort

Sing Me Awake | 2.4k | T | read on Tumblr After the dragon hunt, Geralt finds and cares for an injured Jaskier.

Furry New Friends | 1.5k | T | read on Tumblr Jaskier befriends mice in captivity – written just after the season 2 trailer.

Fillingless Pies and Other Forms of Kindling | 1.2k | G | read on Tumblr In which Burn Butcher Burn is born. 

On Devils and the Reality Thereof | 2.2k | G | read on Tumblr Geralt gets a contract for a devil. Instead, he finds Jaskier.

Your Screams Still Echo In My Dreams | 3k | T | read on Tumblr Geralt can’t stop dreaming about what happened to Jaskier in Oxenfurt. The two of them have some much-needed conversations.

On Spoons and Other Signs of Devotion | 3.7k | G | Original Tumblr Form After the dragon hunt, Geralt finds that the spoon Jaskier gave him is missing. (Written Collaboratively on Tumblr)

🍂 Geraskier-flavored gen:

Your Smile Tells Me I'm Safe | 2k | G | read on Tumblr Dara meets Jaskier and learns that, maybe, he doesn’t have to be alone.

Of Magic, Meddling, and Mice | 7.4k | T | read on Tumblr (part 1, part 2) A fix-it of season two featuring Gordon, Jaskier, and an unexpected Eskel.

[solarphase1]

Geraskier as pirates or something

“Ship ahead, Captain!” The call came from the first mate, seeming to have made its way ear-to-ear from the crow’s nest.

“Ahh, splendid~ Seems our new found, foul-lipped little friend gets an answer in rather auspicious timing and now - while I am a most ambitious planner of grandiose-” the incessant silken voice simply would not stop as the lithe man sauntered about the bow, coming to a poised halt grinning over the rails  - “even I could not have planned it better.”

Even as he spoke, some sort of knowing came over the crew. All but the two holding Geralt began shuffling about, a handful of men fetching glass jars from somewhere on the ship and others taking the malleable salve within up and into their ears. 

The hands restraining the man to his knees exchanged without ever presenting an opportunity for easy escape as his two previous captors took their lot of the wax, as up closer he could tell it was wax indeed. 

A humorless chuckle, “Sirens?” He peered up at the captain through white strands, “There are no sirens in these waters, that’s common knowledge to every ship and crew. It seems your reputation has oversold you.” 

The man at the helm grinned through his response, readying a lute in his hands. “Perhaps, Geralt of Rivia, those crews should know better.”

[tears-and-smiles-ao3]

The real treasure

Geraskier, Geralt and family, rated M for implied references to chastity, implied/referenced sex but basically family feels

"Oh, come on, Geralt, it'll be fun," Jaskier pleads, all doe eyes as he waves a hand-drawn treasure map around in the air.

Geralt watches him from his seat on the sofa and purposefully ignores what his lover is saying.

Instead, he takes in the outfit Jaskier has chosen to wear. His white frilly shirt is left partially open, showing off his gorgeous chest hair. His open burgundy waistcoat drapes down just inches from where Geralt knows his sensitive nipples lie.

The gold chain Jaskier always wears glistens in the morning light shining through the curtains of their apartment as he stalks over to him. His prowling also shows off how tight his striped pants are, clinging in just the right way to his legs.

When Jaskier marches over and stands before him, Geralt can’t resist raising an eyebrow.

"That's not how you convince me,” he insists, even as Jaskier sits down on his lap. Sighing, Geralt presses pause on his game and sets down the controller in the empty space by his left.

He turns back to Jaskier, giving him his whole attention as the world zeroes in on the pleasant weight of his lover on his thighs.

"Look, you'll love it. You might even get an extra reward," Jaskier encourages, waggling his eyebrows.

"Hmm, and yet we could just skip straight to that part," Geralt suggests, gripping tight onto Jaskier's hips and pulling him flush against him.

Jaskier groans, responding by grinding down for a moment, but then seems to remember his goal. He tuts, putting a hand against Geralt’s chest and pushing himself back to create space between them.

"No sex unless you find all four keys,” he chastises.

He's pouting, and Geralt wants to curse himself with how easily Jaskier can wrap him around his fingers.

"Fine,” he sighs again, “but give me a kiss before you send me on my quest, my prince."

“I’m not a prince, I’m a pirate.”

Despite Geralt getting it wrong, Jaskier smiles, beaming like the sun. His cheeks glow and his eyes gleam. He's magnificent, breathtaking.

His lover leans down, forcing Geralt to lie his head against the back of the sofa. Jaskier’s arms bracket each side and Geralt lets out a soft gasp. He’s being teased and he loves it.

At an achingly slow pace, Jaskier moves towards him. Geralt feels like he can't breathe as inch by inch Jaskier's lips get closer.

The world around them disappears as Jaskier presses his lips against his. They move slowly, building in intensity, and Geralt tries to keep still, warring with his desire to lift Jaskier up and carry him to bed.

Patience. He needs to be patient.

Instead he focuses on the way Jaskier tastes sweet like an apple as he licks inside his mouth.

Geralt growls and Jaskier chuckles in that way he does. It’s so intoxicating and Geralt doesn’t want this to end. When Jaskier pulls back, his mouth tries to follow that delicious taste.

“Uh, uh,” his lover reprimands, picking up the map once again. “You take this, look over it, and then wait 10 minutes for me to get a head start. When you find me, you can have me.”

Geralt whines a little, and Jaskier laughs again.

“Just look at it. Get into the spirit. Oh, and you might want to get changed out of your sweats.”

“Fine,” Geralt grumbles. The quicker they get this over with, the quicker he gets what he wants.

Trust Jaskier to use the promise of sex to get him to behave. He must be so predictable.

Sighing, he looks down at the piece of paper. Jaskier had spent many hours last night drawing it. Geralt thought he’d looked so cute with his tongue sticking out as he worked that he’d tried to kiss Jaskier but his lover swatted at him till he left him alone.

It seems these squiggles are the result, and Geralt’s eyes dart up and down as he tries to figure it out.

A dotted line meanders through a town map. It connects various things: a round plump green hairy berry, a white goat, a black cat and a castle on a mountain. Scratching his head, Geralt stares at the map for longer than he would ever admit.

Then suddenly, his eyes widen and he realises. Scrambling up out of his seat, he rushes to change into black jeans and a tight-fitting top. Then he grabs his jacket and keys, letting the front door slam shut behind him.

Yennefer’s eyes crinkle as she opens the door, watching Geralt barge in without so much as a hello.

“What am I meant to pick up from here?” he demands, already marching towards the sofa and plucking up cushions, tossing them on the floor.

“Geralt, I won’t have you making a mess because you’re annoyed at Jaskier’s game.”

He whips around like a bullet, and sees how she’s standing, one clenched fist leaning against the doorframe and with a sharp look in her eye.

“Fine,” he grumbles, not for the first time today. “But please put me out of my misery.”

“I know for a fact I am your first stop. You’re just tetchy. Stop it.”

Sighing, he lets his shoulder drop. He’s not going to get the answer from Yennefer by demanding it.

He bends over and picks up the cushions, settling them down on the sofa randomly. He’ll never get them into the right order, so why bother.

Yennefer must know he’s at least making an effort because she nods and then jerks her head toward the kitchen.

He pads behind her, like a dog with its tail between his legs. Her purple dress trails across the floor.

She walks up to the teas and busies herself, scooping out several spoonfuls of chopped green leaves into a teapot, then fills it with water.

She sets it on the stove, then turns around and rummages in a cupboard till she finds two matching cups and saucers.

Yennefer always did like being fancy. Adding to the ambience, or whatever she claimed.

“So,” she begins, “how are things?”

He shrugs. “Fine. Same as always.”

“Does Jaskier always send you off on treasure hunts?”

Grunting, Geralt decides he’s not going to answer that. Silence really is the better option most of the time.

The water must reach the desired temperature, because Yennefer wraps a towel around its handle and lifts it off the stove and onto a wooden tray.

“I’ve missed our chats,” Yennefer remarks, rearranging the cups even though there is no need to do it.

Geralt really doesn’t have time for this nonsense, but what else can he do? Stand here and think about how he’s going to pin Jaskier down as soon as he catches him?

It seems mildly inappropriate in front of his ex.

“You know, I was surprised that I’m your first visit, but maybe Jaskier likes toying with you as much as I do. You’re hilarious when you’re angry.”

“Am not,” Geralt huffs, folding his arms for a second, then realising just how it makes him look.

Jaskier is always teasing him for being stubborn. Damn him, he knows him too well.

“Well, maybe not,” Yennefer concedes. “Doesn’t matter why you’re here, I’m just glad to see you.”

She pours tea into both cups, then hands him one.

It smells bitter, acrid, but he’s drunk worse. He takes a few sips to be polite, then sets it down.

He really just wants to get the key and leave.

Just what is Jaskier playing at?

His skin is itching and he needs to move, so he begins pacing.

“I really thought we’d at least stay in touch more,” Yennefer admits.

“What?”

“It wasn’t all that bad, you know. And Jaskier still talks to me.”

He does? Geralt scrunches up his face, trying to figure out why.

“Oh, don’t be an idiot, Geralt. We’re not here bitching about you.”

He grunts, then sits down at the kitchen island. On it is a fruit bowl filled with apples and pears and he picks one up.

“What was the symbol drawn over my house again, Geralt?”

Huh? Geralt looks up at Yennefer and is about to shrug, then a thought hits him.

Gooseberries. They’re a fruit. This is a fruit bowl.

He drags the bowl towards him and immediately begins rummaging through the apples and pears.

He empties the full thing and, sure enough, there’s a small silver key lying at the bottom.

“Yen, what’s this?” he asks.

She turns, cup in hand, and smiles.

“Never could keep things hidden from you.”

He picks it up, turning it around between his finger and thumb.

Is it really that easy?

He looks at her for all of two seconds, then rushes out the room and towards the front door.

“Come visit again,” Yennefer yells after him.

Eskel is in his garage, rustling through his toolbox while Lil’ Bleater gripes at him. The tiny goat is wearing a small woollen pink sweater and jumps menacingly at the floor.

“Just let me find my hammer, Bleater, and we’ll get out and fix that fence together, alright.”

He’s wearing his red sweater and denim overalls, undone at the top so the straps hang around his waist. A screwdriver hangs out his pocket.

“And just where do I find the key Jaskier has hidden here?” Geralt asks, announcing his presence.

Eskel jumps at his voice, hitting his knuckles against the metal box with a clang.

“Fuck,” he swears, hissing as he pulls his hand out and sticks it under his other arm, putting pressure on it. “That really hurt, dickhead.”

Geralt coughs to cover a laugh, looking down at the floor as the tiny goat scrambles over to him on shaky legs, screaming loudly.

“She thinks you’re a dickhead, too.”

“Oh, I definitely am most of the time,” Geralt admits, looking up to see Eskel grinning at him.

He walks over to his brother and pulls him into a large hug. It had been a while since he’s visited, and he’d forgotten how nice it is just to be here with him.

“You should visit more,” Eskel chastises, as if reading his mind.

“I know,” Geralt agrees.

They’re about to pull back from each other when something small but strong bashes against their legs.

“Hey,” Eskel greets, reaching down and petting the little goat. “Let’s get you outside.”

It’s then that Geralt sees it. A small silver key hanging off of Lil’ Bleater’s collar.

“Jaskier, you cruel genius,” he states as he bends over and attempts to grab the key.

Lil’ Bleater has other ideas though, as she runs off, scampering towards the grass outside.

Laughing, Eskel claps Geralt on the shoulder.

“It was my idea. Bleater here needs exercise and you’ll do a fine job chasing her.”

Geralt glares at him, but can’t help the small smirk at the side of his lips.

“You’re welcome,” Eskel says, following his excitable pet out into the sun.

It takes almost an hour for Geralt to finally catch the damned goat, but she seems much happier with him now that she’s exhausted.

Eskel had fixed the fence ages ago and had watched his brother look like an idiot as he chased the small creature across the field.

“I think that’s the best idea I’ve had yet,” Eskel says, walking over to help Geralt get up. “Fancy a drink before you go?”

“Okay, yeah,” Geralt agrees, wiping the sweat from his brow.

Another hour later, Geralt is knocking on the door to Lambert and Aiden’s apartment.

He’s feeling much less keyed up now that he’s had a couple of beers. Perhaps that’s for the best.

Lambert could always antagonise him like no one else could.

Did Jaskier really plan out who to visit when, or is this just a coincidence?

He didn’t get to ponder it further because then the door opens and sees the blonde haired lover of his younger brother.

Aiden smiles, standing in the doorway in his blue shirt and pants, and waits for Geralt to say something.

“Hi, Aiden, can I come in?” Geralt asks.

He doesn’t know why Aiden makes him feel like a meek lamb. Is it the way he stands, arms gripping onto the doorframe? Maybe it’s his eyes that dart back and forth like he’s about to pounce?

Aiden smiles wider and Geralt sees those sharp fangs gleaming in the afternoon light.

“Sure,” he agrees, moving enough out of the way for Geralt to pass.

That’s when he notices a silver key hanging around Aiden’s neck, sitting on top of the golden one he’s always got there.

Geralt has never asked about that other key. He’d rather not get the answer he suspects it is.

Aiden smirks, and, fuck, Jaskier is going to pay for this later.

Probably in ways that he’d enjoy.

Anyway, it doesn’t matter because suddenly he’s walking into the main room and he sees Lambert on his hands and knees cleaning out the fireplace.

“Who was at the door?” his brother asks, still sweeping up burnt ash with a brush.

Geralt clears his throat, and Lambert flinches, turning around.

The pink apron he wears on top of his black t-shirt and slacks makes Geralt splutter, and Lambert scowls at him.

“Hey, asshole. Pretty boy going to help or just mock?”

“Now, darling,” Aiden intercedes before Geralt gets a chance to reply, “we don’t talk to guests in that way.”

For a second, Lambert looks like he isn’t going to back down, but then he sags and stands up, taking off his apron.

“Just going to wash my hands,” he explains as he walks out the room.

“Make sure to bring some scones back, darling,” Aiden calls out into the hall. Geralt doesn’t hear a reply, and Aiden doesn’t seem to care. He turns to Geralt and gestures towards one of two sofas.

Sitting down tentatively, Geralt drums his fingers against his leg while they wait.

Aiden lounges across the other sofa, with a smug look on his face, and folds one leg over the other.

It’s a tense five minutes until Lambert comes back into the room carrying a large tray packed full of scones, cream and jam.

“You didn’t need to,” Geralt begins to say, but Aiden interrupts him.

“Nonsense. This is our afternoon treat. We just assumed you’d be a bit later, is all.”

“What can I say, I always aim to disappoint.”

Lambert laughs at that. “Pretty boy’s got brains, it seems.”

“Tenacity,” Geralt corrects. He’s managed to get himself out of many a scrape in his time, but he wouldn’t call that anything other than street smarts.

“Modest, too,” Aiden chuckles as Lambert hands him a china plate. The scone on it is cut in two, piled high with jam and cream.

His brother hands him a similar plate, then settles down by Aiden’s feet and balances the last plate on his thigh.

The two of them start eating, and Geralt follows suit. All is quiet for a while, until Aiden breaks the silence, standing up.

“You can have the key, you know, after you and Lambert have a nice chat. That’s the deal. Keep your claws retracted.

Aiden gives Geralt a wink before he walks out the door, and then it’s just the two of them.

“Funny it takes our partners working in secret to get us together,” Lambert moans.

Geralt hums, then remembers Jaskier lecturing him about using his words.

Fuck, okay.

“How are you doing?” he asks his brother.

“Fine,” Lambert retorts. “You?”

“Alright, overall. Though this isn’t how I envisioned spending my day.”

“Because you hate visiting family?”

“Because I thought this hunt would involve a lot more running around than chatting.”

“Hmmm. You’ve given me a welcome reprieve from cleaning that, anyway,” Lambert says, pointing at the fireplace.

“Is the pink apron mandatory?” Geralt asks before he can stop himself.

“Hey, I like the colour,” Lambert exclaims, his face flaming.

Geralt shifts in his seat.

“Look, I’m sorry. I’m not a great conversationalist.”

“Well, how about this? You finish clearing out the fireplace and I’ll consider our chat completed.”

Lambert throws the pink apron at Geralt, who catches it and frowns.

“You’d really rather I clean instead of talking?”

Lambert growls, showing his teeth.

“Okay, okay, fine.”

An hour later, Aiden comes back into the room and the fireplace is sparkling.

“Well, that wasn’t too hard,” Aiden comments, holding out the small silver key towards him.

Geralt nods, taking the key and pocketing it.

“I’ll come back another time,” he says, nodding at Lambert before turning to walk out the room.

“I look forward to it, pretty boy,” Lambert teases, and Geralt laughs.

Some things would never change.

It’s been ages since he’d visited his foster dad’s place.

The castle, as Vesemir calls it, is an isolated shack at the base of a large hill. He likes to joke that his home is only for the hardy.

Even if Geralt can understand the desire to carve out his own space like this, it must be lonely sometimes.

His dad is at the door waiting on him, dressed in his usual brown sweater and blue jeans. He could never understand how Vesemir did it. Most people complained that Geralt always sneaked up on them, but his dad always knew when he’s nearby.

“Hello, son. It’s been a while,” Vesemir greets, opening his arms for a hug.

It feels nice, a comfort Geralt had forgotten about.

“I’m sorry,” he says into his dad’s shoulder.

“It’s fine. Not like I’ve been knocking down your door.”

Humming, Geralt lets his father release him of his guilt.

Vesemir pulls back and then nods towards the back yard.

“Come on,” he encourages, “We’ve got wood to chop.”

They both walk around the house, trailing a well worn path through the grass.

Out back, there’s a shed filled with branches and short logs, all ready to be chopped up into firewood.

Geralt heads towards it and grabs a few logs in his arms. He drops them beside the chopping block while Vesemir sits down and pulls out a hip flask.

“Want some?” he asks.

Geralt shakes his head. It’s been a long time since he’s chopped logs and he’s already had some alcohol, though the buzz has long since worn off.

It’s easy work and he gets into a steady rhythm, working through his pile quicker than he expects. He decides to collect a few handfuls so he can keep going for longer without stopping.

The sun is much lower in the sky by the time he finishes, and it leaves long shadows across the backyard.

He piles the last of the firewood into a basket, then rolls his shoulders to ease his aching muscles. He picks up the basket and takes it indoors, dropping it beside the fireplace.

“Thanks, son,” Vesemir says. He moves over to start working on a fire, but Geralt just chases him away.

“I’ll do that,” he states.

Vesemir raises his hands in defeat.

“Fine, fine. I’m going to get another drink. Will you have one with me?”

It’s getting late, but Geralt’s heart aches at the thought of leaving his dad all alone. How could he have put off visiting him for almost a year?

He gets the fire going quickly enough, and then he settles himself down in the chair beside his dad.

“How are things, son?”

“Good,” Geralt answers truthfully, twiddling the glass in his hands. “How’s you?”

“I’m doing alright. I love this place,” he states, gesturing around the room, “but it gets kinda too quiet after a while.”

“Yeah.”

“And life with Jaskier? Have you two made any plans for the future?”

“Marriage? No. No, we haven’t discussed it.”

“You don’t have to, you know. It’s enough to just be together.” Vesemir says quietly, looking down at his drink.

Just how lonely is he?

“Would you like a companion?” Geralt asks.

“Sometimes,” Vesemir admits. “But it’s okay when you boys come round.”

Geralt nods, feeling that pang of guilt in his stomach again. He finishes his drink in one last mouthful.

He’s about to get going when he remembers he’s supposed to find a key.

“Do you know where Jaskier…” Geralt starts asking, only for Vesemir to finish.

“Hid the key? Yes. It’s over on the table.”

“Thanks.” He gets up and clears away his glass, then pours his dad another large measure before he leaves.

“I promise to visit more often,” he vows.

“Next time bring Jaskier. He’s a breath of fresh air.”

Geralt nods, then puts his hand on his dad’s shoulder, squeezes once, then heads out the door.

It’s only when Geralt gets home that he realises he doesn’t know if this is where Jaskier wanted him to go.

He cracks open the door and sees there’s a single light on in their bedroom.

It’s late now, and Geralt has to stifle a yawn as he shuts the front door.

Sneaking across the creaky floorboards is easy. The door to their bedroom is ajar, and he peeks inside and sees the most adorable sight.

Jaskier is lying passed out across the bed covers, his breathing soft and even. He’s wearing bright yellow pyjama bottoms, nothing else, and his brown hair is all mussed up.

Geralt feels tired from his long day out, so he creeps in and undresses. He places the four keys down on the bedside table, then frowns at them.

What’s the point in all this if there is nothing to unlock?

It’s too late to think about it. Instead, he turns around and slowly rearranges Jaskier till he can get into bed with him.

He wraps his arm around him, snuggling his chin into Jaskier’s neck, and lets himself drift off to sleep.

In the morning, Geralt wakes to Jaskier placing kisses across his face.

“Hello, beautiful,” his lover greets, a sly smile on his lips. “Did you enjoy your treasure hunt?”

Geralt looks up at him, trying to get his brain to work. “I got the keys, but there was nothing to open.”

“Wasn’t there? Oh, well. I’ll just need to take back these restraints I bought.”

His eyes widen instantly, and then he grabs onto Jaskier and flips them.

“Hmmm, I’m going to enjoy this. But before you ravish me, did you have a good time yesterday?”

Geralt nods. It was nice seeing his family again. Even Yennefer had been pleasant enough to him.

“Good. That was the plan.”

Groaning, Geralt grabs Jaskier’s hands and holds them above his head. He leans down and kisses him hard.

His little minx is going to be thoroughly taken apart.

Witcher fic masterlist