#i think jaskier would hate us all lmao

[fangirleaconmigo]

Hi, I’m writing the Geralt/Jaskier daemon fic and wondered if there were any kinks you do wanna see/absolutely don’t wanna see. And like overall what tags you’d wanna see for this fic? (It’s already 3.4K because apparently I can’t write pwp, it always needs plot)

ooooooo YAYYYYYYY. I'm so excited wooot! For those just joining us, this is about this prompt of Paladin Geralt and Demon Jaskier. (I was inspired by a piece of GhostSoap art on twitter which is in the rb)

So, first of all, you are so sweet for asking. I know it was my prompt, but it's your fic, so ofc you don't have to tailor it to my preferences.

BUUUT you asked, so here goes:

What I adore about the idea of Paladin Geralt/Demon Jaskier is the concept of a very straight laced honor bound Geralt being teased and tormented (in a good way) into snapping or melting or some kind of reaction that only demon Jaskier is able to get out of him. Him being completely shocked that he or his work is inspiring that in someone.

And of course I love a young demon who just sees the tying of ropes and the tugging of tails and horns and the quiet gorgeous Paladin, and goes....yeah that's my kink and I'm gonna make it his problem.

I'll put the hard no's under the cut for those who would like to be excluded from the narrative.

It is always difficult to explain your kink fic preferences because there are always exceptions, right? I could say I hate something but with the right author and set up it can work.

But I would say my usual hard no's is I don't like hard noncon. I can't, it's too bleak and depressing for me. I like consensual noncon and dubcon if it's a porny fantasy thing where we all know they are all having a great time. And enthusiastic consent is good too ha. I like BDSM fics with all the usual emotional fuckery and power imbalances and dirty talk and basically assume I like it lmao

The things that give me the icks are oviposition, though that wouldn't be in this one I don't think, also gore, sounding and water sports, which I also don't think this prompt lends itself to those things, so probably not relevant anyway.

I know you can never think of or cover everything, and again, this is coming from your brain so it has to be what inspires you, but since you asked, that is my best stab and explaining what I like.

Also, pls send me the link or give me a tag when you write it, I can't wait, i'm hyped. weeeee

[diamondcamefromhell]

Timeless love

Jaskier x female reader series part 3

[PART 1] ; [PART  2]

Summary: This is an AU, where Y/N is a young woman, trying to make ends meet with her freelancing writing job. She lives in her small Nottingham studio apartment along with her cat Apollo. Things change when one evening as she is waiting for her taxi, she meets what she thinks is Joey Batey, but the man in front of her is convinced he’s Jaskier, a character from her current favorite show. Y/N now has to figure out what to do.

Warnings: Swearing, vomit, alcoholism and alcohol-related borderline abuse

Word count: 2,251

NOTE:

This part has some heavier stuff than any other work Ive written, so please, proceed with caution for your own sake. nothing too graphic happens, but still want to make sure you know that it does have a certain character that could be triggering to some. he wont be a dominant feature in all parts, but i feel it’s important for Jaskier to interact with people like that, as he continues to learn about our world. 

hope you enjoy this part nonetheless. feedback, as always, is greatly appreciated <3 [im really nervous to see what yall think]

I don’t know when, but I managed to get some sleep. Not much, as it was just 7 am when Apollo started meowing and jumping on me, asking to be fed. I sit up, my gaze immediately going to the coach, where Jaskier seemed to be sleeping soundly.

I crawl out of the bed, going to the kitchen, where I see lute back by the fridge. He eventually put it down last night. I wonder how long did it take for him to fall asleep. I sigh, as quietly as possible pouring some food for my cat, who purrs as a thank you.

I stare out the window, as cars start going up and down the street. The town is waking up. I tiptoe around my apartment to go get my laptop from the coffee table. I am surprised Jaskier didn’t ask about it last night. But then again, he didn’t know most of the things in my apartment, he probably was overwhelmed.

I go back to my bed, opening and booting up my old friend. As I enter the password, I am greeted with a picture of him and Geralt on that rock, at the end of episode 6. I loved that whole scene so much. I stare at it, not believing the same bard is sleeping on my coach. I know better, so I change the picture to one of the default ones.

I open chrome, exiting the youtube page that has his song on it. He is not ready for that.

Or maybe I wasn’t. But it didn’t matter.

I go to email, checking for work. I have a few requests, and I decide it’s best to get some work done before Jaskier wakes up and we have to have more awkward conversations. I manage to write two articles, and then he awakens.

His face, for a second, is full of confusion, but then he seems to remember where he is. Now, his expression grows sad. I know he probably wished this were just a nightmare. I know he wished to wake up, back home. With Geralt and even Yennefer. But instead he got me and Apollo, who was already jumping on the coach, greeting Jaskier.

“So that wasn’t a dream,” he murmurs, but I catch it. I close my laptop.

“I’m afraid not.” I respond, as he looks at me, his expression still cold. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, what can you do.” He forces a smile, which I don’t really like, but I decide it’s best not to comment on that. Instead, I nod.

“I wish I could do something. Anyway,” I clear my throat. “Are you up to trying something new?”

“Depends on what it is.” Jaskier perks up, his clouded gaze clearing a little.

“Dirty beans.” I say, jumping out of my bed, I smirk at him. “Or as people call it – coffee.”

“I think I will pass on dirty beans.” He frowns and I giggle.

“You will not.” I say, as he smiles, just a little. And I know it’s genuine. A little hope in these dark times.

I go turn on my coffee maker, putting in the capsule. I decide to make him a latte, nothing too strong. I make myself giggle, when I realize he may be lactose intolerant. I guess we will find out. I stare at him, and decide to add two sugars.

For myself, however, I go black, with one sugar. I need the energy, as I feel absolutely exhausted. I take the drinks, giving him his cup. He sniffs the drink, taking a sip. I don’t sit down, closely watching his reaction.

He doesn’t frown, and actually looks pleasantly surprised. Smile curls his lips, and I catch myself smiling too.

“Glad you like my dirty beans.” I say, finally sitting down, sipping my own. The bitter taste hits my taste buds, waking me up in an instant.

“It’s nice. Thank you.” I smile.

“You are welcome, Jaskier.” I say, leaning back on the couch. “Let me know if you are hungry, I will cook something.”

“I will, thanks.” I glance at him, realizing how surreal it is. Yet we both seem calm.

“Then we might need to go out. Try to see if we can find something around here.” I feel anxiety rush over me. “It’s best if we do it in a day too. Safer.”

“What will we look for?” I shrug, closing my eyes.

“We’ll see it when we find it.” I look at his attire now. “However, you will have to change.”

“Sorry, I didn’t pack anything.” He says, smirking, and I feel a wave of ease wash over me. I am glad he is making jokes.

“I have some clothes that should fit you. I think.” He looks confused, nearly scared, so I continue. “Not my clothes, but I buy some for Dave, he sometimes needs them, because well… he doesn’t have that much.”

“Dave?” I cant read Jaskier’s tone, but he seems confused.

“He lives in the apartment in front of mine. We are… acquaintances at best.” Jaskier nods, as I place my coffee down.

I rush to my small wardrobe, going to the second drawer, where I keep clothes for Dave. Poor guy vomits on himself so often, and he doesn’t know how to wash clothes exactly. If they’re not too disgusting, I wash them, but I keep fresh ones at hand.

I get them at a thrift store, so most of them aren’t to fancy or anything.

I pull a pair of old black jeans, trying to imagine if Jaskier could fit in them. I think he should, but then again, I didn’t exactly examine how he looks that much. I’ve seen it for hours on tv. Dave is not a big man, and I thank my angels for that, as I pull a white shirt that should fit Jaskier too. I dig around to find a pink hoodie.

For a moment I think he wouldn’t wear it, but then I remember what he is wearing now and realize he probably would be fine with a bit of pink. I turn around, revealing his outfit, but Jaskier looks confused.

“Please tell me you know how to dress yourself.” I tease, and he laughs.

“I do, if you can’t tell, I dress nicely.” I chuckle, but don’t respond. “This is weird.”

“Just change.” I throw the clothes to him, and he starts undressing before my very own eyes. It takes me a moment for shock to pass away, before the blush rushes to my face. “In the bathroom for Christs sake!”

I point to the only other room in my apartment as the bard looks very confused. But one look at me, flustered and red sends the message, as he smirks, gathering his clothes and leaving the room. I fan my face with my hands.

Now I don’t meant to act like such a loser and fear seeing a man’s nipple. It’s just that I know I might have to stay with him for a couple more days, so it might make things weird. Also, I already had a crush on him, kinda, and I didn’t want to deepen it even more.

When he comes out, I am already seated, calmed down and drinking my coffee. I turn my face and immediately feel a wave of something rush over me. He looks so different. The pants are a bit big, I notice, but nothing a belt cant fix. The shirt, however, fits perfect, hugging his body. And the zip up hoodie ads a familiar pop of colour.

I feel my face become hot again.

“Verdict?” He asks, twirling around.

“You need a belt.” I say in one breath, rushing to get him the damn thing, before his pants fall off. Which, they nearly did already. When they are secure, I give one final look. “You look normal, so you’re good, I guess.”

“I don’t feel normal.” He says bitterly, and I sigh.

“I know, Jaskier. Not your usual attire, but this way, you will stand out less.” I stare at him, knowing there is a way bigger problem at hand.

He now literally looks like Joey Batey. An exact replica. And if someone, who has seen the hit show, sees him, it will be bad. I suddenly get a headache.

“We have a different problem. You look exactly like someone well known. That’s why I mistook you when I saw you last night.” I say, rubbing my temples.

“Who?” I sigh again.

“Joey. Joey Batey.” I grunt, closing my eyes. “If people recognize you as him, there might be… trouble.”

“Do townsfolk know him that well?” I glare at the man, but then I remember he seemingly knows nothing about my world. So I ease up.

“Yes. He’s like Geralt.” I compare. “The world just knows him. I guess we will have to stay close to home. And wear your hood up.”

I ignore my headache, chugging down my coffee, as Jaskier puts his hood up. He looks adorable, but I don’t say that, instead I nod, approving. I decide to go without breakfast, as the more I think about having to go outside, the more anxious I get.

And I am out of my medication, since I don’t like going to a doctor.  I silently curse myself out, as we make our leave. The corridor still stinks, so I give Jaskier an apologetic glance, who in return gives me a soft smile. I feel a chill rush down my spine, when the door behind our backs open. I drop my keys, thankfully after I already locked the door.

I quickly pick them up, turning around to face my neighbour. Dave is staring at Jaskier, his eyes wide with surprise. He has never seen me bring a man home.

Dave is wearing grey joggers, with various stains on it. I notice some blood, but realize it’s best not to ask, not with Jaskier in the earshot. His shirt also clearly has dried vomit on it, and he oozes of vodka and something else. It makes me dizzy and sick.

I try to imagine what the bard is seeing. A frail, tiny white male. Bald, but with a black creepstache. Shaking uncontrollably. It must be so confusing. I want for us to get away, only then I notice Jaskier shielding me ever so slightly. My heart beats faster.

“Hello Dave.” I say through my teeth, stepping in front of Jaskier, so now I would shield him from the curious stare.

“Y/N, sweetheart. Didn’t know you had company.” He says, holding on his door frame, stabilizing himself. I force a smile.

“Yes, well. He’s a friend.” I say, stepping in front of ‘my friend’ more. Dave wasn’t generally violent, but he could get jealous and insecure from every male person who ever walked this earth. Let’s say he has a fragile ego.

“Introduce us, then!” He smiles, and I notice he’s missing his front tooth now. Poor man.

“I’d rather not, Dave.” I say, firmly, as he takes a step forward, using me as a stabilizer now. I want to step away, but I know it would cause a scene. And he wasn’t generally violent, but there instances.

“C’mon sweetheart.” He leans in, whispering. “Your friends are my friends.”

“I said no.” My voice comes out weak as the stench from his is making me feel dizzy. I feel like I am about to throw up.

“She has said no, Dave.” Jaskier speaks, startling me. I almost forgot he was there. He steadies me, as I didn’t even realize I was drifting back. Then I notice my hands shaking. I’m beginning to panic. Fuck.

“We are in a rush, Dave.” I deescalate the situation, as my neighbor was shooting daggers at Jaskier. “Next time, I will introduce you two.”

“Where are you going?” Dave steps back, but he grabs my upper hand. I get startled, squirming a little. That seems to tip off Jaskier.

“Let go.” He steps in front of me now, his voice firm. Dave, to my surprise, listens, letting me go immediately.

“You got yourself a good man, Y/N.” He says, laughing. He steps in his apartment, slamming the door. I lean on the wall, taking a couple deep breaths, which don’t help as it stinks in here.

“Are you okay?” I shake my head.

“I need fresh air.”

I practically jump down the stairs, and when I reach outside, I go around the corner to throw up. My stomach hurts.

Dave is usually kind. He rarely ever lays his hands on me, but whenever he does, it’s never nice. I wish Jaskier wasn’t there to witness this. I glance over my shoulder, to see his worried look, I straighten up, wiping my mouth.

“I’m fine.” I grunt, ignoring the fact that his gaze doesn’t change.

“You shouldn’t have to deal with that, a lady like you…” I lift my hand, annoyed. He get’s the hint, shutting up.

“In this world, Jaskier, I’m no lady.” I put my hair behind the ear, anxiously looking around. “Get used to that.”

“It’s not fair.” He argues, worry not leaving his face. I sigh, walking past him.

“The world isn’t fair.” I bitterly say, before taking a deep breath. I face Jaskier again. “Now let’s look for something that could help you.”

He knows this conversation is over, as I feel anxiety come back. I have no idea what to look for or where to even begin.

[PART 4]

~~~~~~~~

TAG LIST [if you wish to be added or removed from the tag list, lmk]

@ultracolorfulnerdcollection ; @viyamystic ; @sleepyblossom ; @killjoy-acid-crash

[bardicious]

Possibly a hot take, but they really should have had Jaskier meet Geralt in season 3. Leaving all his interactions with Yen (which were freaking splendid) and maybe given him some more interactions with Sigismund Dijkstra.

Or you know, just let him have a story line outside of Geralt, because he was flourishing until they made that half assed meeting/apology.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Big brain moment: a Geralt and Ciri fic of teen Ciri throwing a fit and blasting Paramore 🤣 Geralt flustered and frustrated/Jaskier talking him down and getting him to give Ciri a little space

oh? you mean? write yall a scene from my puberty years? 🤣🤣🤣 I mean not quite, but I also angrily blasted Paramore and glared at people ‘with purpose’ lmao

Warnings: teen Ciri and Geralt having a mild fight - well the end of one, its pretty chill, there's cute dumb dads at the end

___________________________

“Leave me alone!” Ciri screamed as she slammed her door in Geralt’s face. 

He sighed and leaned on her doorframe, “Ciri, I just want to make sure you’re-”

“I can't hear you!” she shouted, cranking up her music. 

Gods Geralt hated that fucking band now. It was fine as far as his daughter’s tastes went, at least at first. But she had clung to it and now refused to listen to anything else. Which he was used to, he married Jask after all, but she would blast these angry songs and glare at him as the frontwoman screlted about rebelling and being let down by whoever she was singing to. 

“Ciri! Turn it down or I’m pausing the wifi!”

“No! I’m mad and you have to deal with it!”

He rolled his eyes. This was why he hadn’t lasted with her mother. How the fuck is he supposed to raise someone just as stubborn?

Jaskier came round the corner and wrapped his arms around Geralt’s waist from behind, “Maybe give her ten minutes?” he whispered.

Geralt took a deep breath and slowly exhaled before hollering through the door and hopefully above the noise, “Ten minutes! Then we both deal with it.”

There was an angry groan from inside the teen’s room before she relented, “Fine.”

Jaskier snickered and lead Geralt down the hallway to the living room where he pulled his husband onto the couch, “Before you say this is Yen’s fault-” Geralt gave him a wary glance but kept his mouth shut, “- I knew you in high school. This is your genetics, darling.” 

Geralt groaned and practically tackled Jaskier into the arm of the couch, wrapping him in a nearly bone crushing hug, “I don’t know how to talk to her when she gets like this.”

Jask ran his hands over his hair, “I know darling. To be fair neither do I.”

They laughed, both a little bitterly, and fell into a comfortable silence as Ciri’s music shook her door and filled the whole house.

“Maybe you could ask her about it?”

“About what?” Geralt asked, resting his chin on Jask’s sternum to look at him. 

“Her music. ‘Don't look up just laugh and think there’s no place else you’d rather be.’” Jaskier looked at his husband as if he was supposed to understand, “You’re always on display, for everyone to watch and learn from… you cant go back’? Geralt, honestly, sometimes you’re absolutely brilliant but you’re as thick as a brick of cheese. Ask her why she likes that song.”

Geralt sighed and laid his cheek down, mumbling into his husband’s shirt, “Why don’t you?”

Jaskier laughed and patted his back, “Because I’m not the one she’s mad at,” he paused to kiss the top of Geralt’s head, “For right now…” 

“Think it’s been ten minutes?”

“Not yet. More snuggles. To prepare for the angry teen.”

“Good call.” 

[andfollowthesun]

✨ Annual Writing Self-Evaluation 2021 ✨

thank u @quelsentiment for the tag! this is atrociously late but nevertheless:

1. Number of stories posted to AO3: 16 2. Word count posted for the year: 132,643 3. Fandoms I wrote for:

star wars

check please

witcher

1d lmao

4. Pairings: .... lots lmaooooo i have a short attention span.

star wars: finnpoe, dinluke, obikin, obianidala.

omgcp: nurseydex, pbj

witcher: yenralt, geraskefer

1d: ot5, zouis, narry

5. Story with the most:

Kudos: sit down, breathe, and just listen

(ok the fic above is my most popular by kudos, bookmarks, & comments!! so not gonna relink it 3 times lol)

6. Work I’m most proud of (and why):

it tells us to seek shelter, my obianidala everybody lives au bc i went into a huge deep dive of motherhood, and padme's legacy....... it's probably the fic that made me think most deeply about a character!

7. Work I’m least proud of (and why):

hmm probably if it matters, and if you notice. i adored working w the artist on this for the check please big bang, but as much as i love ocean's 11 and heists, i am just really terrible at writing action scenes. i tried to skip past the action scenes in this fic and just do what i was good at but it doesn't capture the same pizzazz as the movies. oh well!

8. Share or describe a favorite review you received:

a comment on it tells us to seek shelter that said i had a great grasp on tension and narrative....... bruh.

9. A time when writing was really, really hard:

after i finished the first draft of i had no map when i started and now here i am (somewhere real called loving you) i had a full on crisis bc i panicked i a) wasn't portraying the boys accurately, and b) didn't give their relationships with one another and all the complications that would come with a reunion the justice that it deserved. almost completely chickened out and threw out the whole thing lol

10. A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:

again, in it tells us to seek shelter i wasn't intending to write about padme & leia at all, but as soon as i started thinking about padme and who she would be if she survived mustafar, there wasn't anyway i couldn't not write about the anxieties she'd have for her children, and how that could strain her relationship with them.

11. A favorite excerpt of your writing:

From even in jest, or as an afterthought:

She stands up and shoulders him out of the way, clanging a pan onto the stove and flinging open the fridge so hard it slams against its own hinges. She’s mad at herself for bringing it up, for ruining a nice morning by saying it out loud, and she’s mad that she’s mad, and guilty, and all mixed up.

“Hey.” He touches her shoulder lightly, and it makes her furious.

“What,” she snaps, swinging around. She’s holding a carton of eggs in one hand, and her movement slams it directly into his chest. There’s an audible crack, which ruins their plans of omelettes for breakfast.

He looks at her searchingly. Takes the broken eggs from her hands, tosses them in the bin. Sticks two slices of bread into the toaster.

“I don’t hate you anymore,” he says, eyes still glued firmly on the toaster. She feels the fight leave her. They stand in silence until the toast pops up.

“And anyway,” Jaskier says, plating the toast, and pulling out the spreads from the pantry. “He’s not here.”

There isn’t anything Yennefer can say to that. 12. How did you grow as a writer this year:

forced myself to write humour, and do a proper examination of the interactions between friends. it's surprisingly difficult to distill the weird-ass conversations you have with close friends into something that's enjoyable for someone else to read lmao.

13. How do you hope to grow next year:

hmmm! hopefully i'll be able to write something longer!

14. Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):

@spookside @defiantgalaxy genuinely do NOT know where i would be without you two holy shit thank you for cheerleading and editing !!!!

@usetheforce everytime i wrote a particularly angstly obi-wan scene i'd think first, "i am the only person who'd want to read this", and then "actually, nope, denims will want to read this". thank u for ur comments <3 <3 <3

fandom giants spqr, and jibrailis (on ao3), who all taught me about writing humour, character introspections, and the joys of writing a specific industry/profession in a way that's knowledgeable and exciting but not alienating.

15. Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:

LMAOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO don't need the city (don't need proof). yeah. on a lighter note, the hospital scene in twist a little closer now really did happen to me lol. and of course, all i can remember is, which is inspired by a real tradition in a friend's hometown.

16. Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:

uh. don't write linearly? whenever i felt like i was getting blocked on one scene i would just hit enter a bunch of times and start another scene. you can always rearrange/edit/cut scenes later, but your confidence always just shoots up when there are actual words on the page.

17. Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:

got a narry fic currently going thru editing phase, and some jotted down notes for another one that i might finish at some point. plus the beginnings of a lilo fic where they run a local government campaign ..... unsure where it's gonna go though. i guess we'll see!

18. Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read

anybody who wants to do it!! i love reading these :)) happy new year, and a blessed 2022 for everyone !

[laketaj24]

HC: what would modernday!Geralt & Jaskier be like & what would they do, what would their style be like, would they even be friends??? Thanks!

Author’s Note: I love this idea!! I had fun editing this picture, lmao. You can tell when I have an off day!! Here you are, love! (I just did Geralt, but I have Jaskier’s coming later)

Geralt: Modern Day Headcanons

Works as a bounty hunter and private detective.

Very money-driven, though he claims he isn’t.

Used to belong to a biker gang called White Wolves, left the gang because he didn’t believe in the things they were doing

Loves and hates his job at the same time, complains about the cases and how people hate to pay him.

Has a bike named Roach, keeps a garage for her to remained parked, and has fought a few people who dissed her.

Very good at catching a bounty has a hard time if she’s attractive, might sleep with her but will turn her in afterward

Does charity cases all the time, weighs too heavy on his conscious

He doesn’t buy much but is an avid collector of guns, doesn’t really use them often but likes to have them around.

Roomies with Jaskier and always claims that he’s going to move out and leave Jaskier in the apartment alone. Never does.

Rarely takes pictures, and when he does, he never smiles.

He hates social media, and when his business gets bigger, he refuses to have his name on anything. (Almost killed Jaskier when he made a secret Tinder account for him)

Prefers to go to bed early, but that is rarely possible because Jaskier plays his music to three in the morning.

Good at revenge though often makes smoothies and run on the treadmill early in the morning so Jaskier can’t sleep

Cooks all the time, hates Chipotle, thinks it's overrated.

Definitely will fight for Jaskier instead he started it or not, but usually curses him out when it’s over

Geralt refuses to any medicines, believes all he needs to do is eat right and take his vitamins.

Bachelor, but polite about his conquests

Allows them to stay the night, will kiss them during sex feels no emotional connection even when they do.

He is not a heartbreaker, but he is honest to a fault. If someone he is not interested in tries to pursue him, he shuts it down nicely. (oftentimes directs them to Jaskier)

Has a mad crazy ex that comes back into the picture at random times, (Yen)

Had her name tattoed on him and then covered by a wolf tattoo

Flirts with women but is highly attracted to the bartender (Y/N) at the bar Jaskier sings at often

Blushes every time he sees you, tries to say he isn’t, especially when Jaskier calls him out for her. “Your face just turned bright red.” Geralt grumbles something beneath his breath, then tells Jaskier, “Fuck off.”

Refuses to ask you out simply because he doesn’t want to get hurt, his ex kind of left some scars.

Says yes when you ask him out though, and is not afraid of showing you a pleasant time on Roach

Geralt is the controller in the relationship, but he does an excellent job of making you believe that you are in charge

Geralt is sweet, loves to shower you in gifts, even if they are small.

Loves to cuddle - And let’s face it he’s the perfect cuddler

Geralt is open for anything you want to try sexually, even was okay when you invited Jaskier to bed with you and him

Down for threesomes as long as it’s Jaskier, is way too jealous for anyone else to join

Likes to have sex in public places once took you into a Governor’s office and fucked you on the desk.Left a sweet note about him paying his debts properly

He is always calling to make sure you are okay when you are not with him

Geralt is protective, but when you two have a fight you always have to reach out first because he's cut off game is STRONG

A health nut looks at you like you’re crazy when you eat unhealthy things.

Silent judger but his stares speak volumes

Tells most of the women that Jaskier brings home that he has something he can’t wash off.

Geralt will attend any protest with you and stand guard.

Hates to get political but calls politicians out when they do stupid things, (So he’s political)

Witcher Taglist (Short): @therandomthoughtsofmsparker @therealcalicali @taytayize123 @fcgrizi @sapphirescrolls @magdelen69 @hcfavoritegal @henchry @oddsnendsfanfics @imgoldielikehawn @sparklemichele @crushed-pink-petals @titty-teetee @babygurlniah43 @savismith @inforapound @soapjay @twistedcharismaaa @yeet-me-out-tonight @thickemadame @kathhdd @cap-barnes @rhys108 @brexrif @sincerelysinister @earl-aive  @littlefreya​@lovebodymindstuff @two-unbeatable-beaters @ieshaa96 @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @mereka18 @lokispettigerr @artemiseamoon @brattyrogers @kittyatemytaco​ @petrichor-ds​ @ajspencer1892 @wondersofdreaming​ @angelic-kisses13 @fandomfic-galore​  @stillreadingfantasy @pocimaginesaesthetics​

[akajustmerry]

hey, merry! thoughts on the witcher now you've finished it?

Hiiiii. yes, okay! pls bare in mind i've not read the books, nor played the vid gams! so these thoughts are purely on the show as it stands on its own. anyways, here's some:

geralt is literally my fave kinda protagonist i.e the kind that is like "i just want a simple life" but is a fucking liar who lives for the DRAMA. literally, love this drama king. everytime he go "hm." i'm like 😂🥰

idk if this is a contraversial opinion but jaskier annoys me so much and i know he's there for comic relief but i still think he's uncharismatic, unfunny, and annoying asf. also i think its weird, people shipping him with geralt?? its giving shipping jar jar binks with obi wan vibes

first season is a very hostile watch if you're not familiar with the games/books because they wrote it with such a fucked structure. i imagine they wrote it linearly and then hit shuffle so that there was sex scene/fights every 15 minutes or something. on god, i truly hated the non-linear element of s1 and it really seemed so unnecessary by the end

wigs really improved from season 1 to season 2 as well i loved that for them!

lmao only a man could write some shit where a woman can only become beautiful if they give up their ability to have children. milfphobic fantasy writing!!!

love the way they film fight choreo in this show!! love how the camera follows the weapon rather than the people so it looks soooo sexy

look.......as an Indigenous person, nothing gives me the ick like a non-human allegory for Indigenous people. as soon as you dehumanise us, it's a bad faith allegory. so, the whole elves lore/history kinda just erks me. especially since yennefer is the main elf character we sympathise with but they make the point over and over again she's a quarter elf....there's just so much to unpack on why that shit is icky before you even get to them casting a woc in that role

ummmm literally all the women in this show are sooooooooo beautiful like hiiiii i want to go to mage school and take baths with my pretty classmates hiiiiiii

i've said this before but the eowyn-ification of triss merigold is my villain origin story. i endured eight episodes of geralt sleeping with randos, BUT HE CAN'T THROW MY GIRL A BONE?? and they wrote her asking hIM TWICE!!! triss, girl, i would die for you

i do think the costumes in this show look weirdly cheap sometimes?? as in its clear which fits they splurged on and which ones they were like lmao whatever. BUT YEN'S DRESS IN THE LAST FEW EPS OF S2 IS SO 😍😍😍

while i do respect a series that refuses to get bogged down in exposition, a little would be nice so us non-game/books people know whats going on, particularly with lore stuff. like they don't really explain conjunction/chaos and idk if ppl who're already familiar know how much goes unexplained. luckily i just ask my friend who loves the games whenever that happened

yennefer and geralt are so lovely but yennefer and triss are sO SOFT HELLO 👀

i love the aborted baby monster episode that was so fucking cool. and the season 2 opening episode was fantastic. the monster within the monster twists!! love when fantasy plays with horror!

lastly, i loveeeee the way this show is shot its so stunning. the locations, colouring, even the cgi is stunning and the monster designs! its beautiful!!

yeah, i've not been into fantasy for a few years and this show might've cured my personal drought for it so ! i liked it! there's still a lot i'd fix though

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 16.1)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

UPDATES FOR WITCHER OF THE NIGHT WILL BE PUBLISHED EVERY SATURDAY NOW IN MY TIME (GMT +8) (GUESS WHAT? IT AIN’T SATURDAY TODAY! LMAO)

CHAPTER 16

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: The best part has finally come to an end, life aren’t all smiles and rainbows. Now, here comes the negativity that will surely eat you whole with the life you have with the witcher. 

Warnings: Fluff! Kinda’ Dad! Geralt? Slight. Cirilla being such a sweetheart? Jaskier being Jaskier. Mention of blood. Insecure and overthinking reader. Mention of Yennefer and Renfri. 

Words: 8k+

A/N: This should’ve been posted last saturday. But, life happened so here it is. I should’ve been taking a break but I think I’ll have my break next saturday instead. Think of this as if I just gotten late to post this chapter for you, bb’s! Though, there will be no update on June 27 instead! 

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE! Sorry for the grammatical errors and such because English isn’t my mother tongue!

Disclaimer: PNG’s and pictures used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi.

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

THE DAY AFTER TOMORROW. It was the day where Geralt was back on his wild hunt. He'd procrastinated more than he can ever plead for; taking him days with his family was better than having none as the lone witcher would leave with nothing but his horse and sword like the good ol' days.

Other times, he'd have Jaskier in his trips when the bard was too restless to stay and guard Cirilla---it has been two years for doing so---and he would complain about how tedious Geralt would tell his stories about slaughtering such a specific beast. The toubadour wanted to experience and see everything happen before his eyes regardless of his fear for such. 

Which leaves Cuthbert and his family for taking care of the princess. Besides, Geralt thought it would be better that people wouldn't see Cirilla living in their home from time to time, as it can also complicate how she would be found because she didn't need to be.

But, with you around; there has to be somebody that was needed to guard and take care of his child of surprise; leading the preferable options down to you because you knew how a girl works and how their mind moves rather than with Jaskier who always welcomes him home with arguments about nonsense things together with his child of surprise. Complaining how she'd intentionally stomped on his foot because of how she was confined in their home all the darn times till how his cooking was abnormally awful rather than Geralt's.

No matter how uneasy Geralt was with leaving everyone alone, he needed to sacrifice the worries away for his family and choose the safety for the people. Even if it would take him days to bask in his solitude with Roach whom he would have as his silent companion.

The witcher was getting ready for his hunt today. He was checking on stuffs that were utterly important not to forget. Elixirs. Herbs. Equipment. Weapons. Geralt continued to place his things inside his bag before a soft piece of parchment has brushed off his fingertips, making him stop from rummaging inside his bag to snatch it out.

It was the drawing he retrieved from the gallants he'd fought. The broken sketch of you and him together, taken from being scoured by the royal guards because he was needed for a favor that could help the kingdom and its heir.

Fucking people who kept on needing him all the damn time. He silently spewed blasphemy over and over inside his head for making his life more complex than it ever was with Destiny laughing on his side.

Especially that he was finally accepting what it brings to him. You.

He'd taken one last look on the paper before tucking it inside his bag; in a safe place where it wouldn't be destroyed before he'd heard familiar stealthy footsteps padding closer to where he stood beside his horse.

"Geralt,"

Jaskier has taken what the witcher has fetched him to, showing the contents of what laid on his palms before his brooding friend has taken it with a begrudging look that says he woke up on the bad side of the bed today.

Though, the bard was sure he did because of the perception that he needed to leave you alone in his chambers.

Geralt has given him a sharp look which has taken aback Jaskier who seemed to be surprised in such the break of dawn, ceasing his yawn when he'd received such surprising antagonism. He saw the blank stare he'd given him, thoroughly stupefied from whatever sauciness he was trying to give.

Jaskier could even notice how he was more quiet and grumpier than usual first thing in the morning. An unusual state of the witcher when you came along because he was finally talking more after getting some sleep.

"What’s going on, Geralt? Did something happened? I thought friends trust each other! You know you can trust me on this---anything! Is Roach dying? do you need another horse?"

The monster-slayer raised a sassy brow at his friend, looking away as he went on to obtain the items that laid on Jaskier's hands. His hands abnormally heavy as their hands grazed each other; letting the bard know that there was something more to it other than the idea that you would be away from him.

"Should I ask you the same thing?" he deeply grumbled, sounding like a snarl that has caught Jaskier off guard.

His talkative friend appeared to be wounded from his silent grudges that he held out for him. Jaskier couldn't help but scrunch his face in utmost perplexity, feeling aggravated for what attitude Geralt has been giving him when all he had been doing was help him in such a crazy, early hour of the morning.

He won't be taking his attitude when he was still heavy-eyed from trying to get his sleep last night. Reasons why he couldn't was because his room was beside yours and the insatiable witcher. Technically, his suggestions that have been approved sometimes hit him in the head like a boomerang; he didn't think it through that his advice can bring him results where he would suffer.

Geralt and his shitty, overly developed libido.

"But, I don’t have a horse! Why are you---Oh! Ohohoho. You were being sarcastic! I know you---know the differences of those monotones of your verbose timbres. Everybody should applaud me for it," Jaskier scornfully laughed, annoyed by how the witcher has been acting. He held onto his hips, shoulders rolled as his head fell back while he sarcastically laughed, feeling the swift breeze of the morning fog giving him a whiplash as Geralt walked pass him to fix Roach's reigns. The toubadour has turned on his heels to see the subtle swerving of topic by staying silent and minding his own business.

"---I'm utterly not in the mood for your grouchy attitude, Witcher! You sound like you are accusing me of something I shouldn’t have done!"

Roach gave a nicker as she heard two friends share their squabbles; being immature over not sharing what one has a problem over the other.

"You sound guilt-ridden." Geralt bluntly stated, ignoring the bard who has sauntered in front of him with an offended face. His friend seem to be lost at words from where ever his hostility is coming from. 

Jaskier tried thinking it through, cocking his head to the side as he stood before the brooding witcher. He hadn't been too intrusive the past few days nor did he try and get his patience boiling. In all honesty, the bard has set a good amount of space around Geralt when you came in their lives. Reaching to the point that Geralt spends his time with you and Cirilla a lot more than him.

Though, there were the times where Jaskier gets to spend more time with you than Geralt when he was being the complicated mutant he is, sharing banters with you that ends up in a wrestling match because of how he kept on spitting jests that rattles the kindness you ought to have.

The witcher knew Jaskier blushed when he’d accidentally tackled you to the ground from choking him with all your might as you used your arms. The bard’s weight bringing you down when he tried battling with your physical blitz of ripostes. Geralt couldn’t help but purse his lips at that as he watched you wrestle with his annoying bard who had a palpitating heart from being flustered over you. 

Jaskier likes you and he was sure about that.

"W-What---Oh! what a fuckin’ crass you are! What do you even mean?!" he bellowed and stammered, sounding and looking utterly lost. Pretty ocean blue eyes demanding for answers over what grudges he was holding; dramatically raising a hand for thespian gestures.

"Does she look like Booker? No. I suppose not. The cavalier you were fond with was horrible," Geralt sounded too straightforward, never known to sprinkle his words with flowery vernacular that would consider him kind and nice. He gave out a loud, audible sigh; giving him a nonplussed look.

No matter how rude he sounded, his eyes had a look of defiance and understanding. The witcher wasn't mad at the fact that Jaskier has taken a liking towards his midget. No. Geralt knew better than to be enraged over feelings he couldn't control; much so to himself despite of hating the strong feelings he was having over you.

Besides that, Jaskier was his friend. He respected you and Geralt because he knew what was coming forth between the both of you. Like a masochist, even to the point of helping you and the white wolf build the relationship that was bound to happen sooner or later.

Julian Alfred Pankratz just knew you were both endgame from the moment Geralt of Rivia have saved you from those scoundrels. What stated his facts correct was the subtle glimpses that the witcher has been giving you whenever you were around or near their presence; staring when you least expect him to and caring when you needed to be fostered.

Your existence had Geralt thoroughly interested for what and who you were and his friend could visibly see that.

Hence, right at this moment; it was his time to look obvious towards the ivory haired witcher over his one-sided attraction he had for you.

"I should've known, Jaskier. Your gestures aren't exactly subtle."

Geralt shook his head when he lately realized that, clasping a hand over Jaskier's shoulder to give a firm pat; respecting whatever he felt for you. If he wanted to continue those unrequited feelings, it was fine. But, the gesture from him was a silent discussion that he won't be backing down nor stepping away to give the him the opportunity to become what Geralt is already to you.

"I beg your pardon---? Shouldn't you be attacking me with your little tricks already?---I mean, right! Yeah." Jaskier started and stammered at the same time, but was cut off by a terse statement.

"Never leave her side as much as I would."

Geralt gave another light pat to his shoulder before he walked around him, treading over the front door to retrieve two flasks of water and your special Ale that he somehow needed to bring because it reminded of you. The bard trailed behind him, following his footsteps till he was hunched over to get them.

"Geralt, if I may ask---but I hope you wouldn't punch me in the gut after this. The Djinn, obviously was a snake in the lake. What will happen to her now?"

Jaskier just couldn't help but shut his mouth now, does he? he thought at the back of his mind, silently cursing for even bringing it up for him to remember.

The witcher stood up with a long drag of his breath; sounding surfeited by how his mind worked. He was in deep ponder over knowing that his friend had taken the hots for you too, yet he appeared to sound like he was pushing you away soon that he knew Geralt was thoroughly enamored.

"Now, you want her to go." he deadpanned, nettled by what he was suggesting. His eyebrows tightly crossed together from how cretinous it sounded, "---I've been told by a daft of a bard to keep the rat when I was finding a shitty Djinn,"

Geralt couldn't accept what he was hearing. He didn't need to hear this question especially when he was leaving for a hunt. The latter was finally trying to accept what destiny holds out for him, testing what would happen with you around; thinking if it was even a smart decision for him to not challenge fate for the second time around.

It was probably for the better before any sacrifices can happen. Though, why was he even being questioned when he's finally having momentous moments with you?

Geralt gravelly hummed in displeasure, walking away from his friend as he said out loud with a brooding demeanor, moon over by what questioned he received when he'd only done what everybody wanted from him.

"You smell of heartache, rejection and bewilderment, bard."

Jaskier looked utterly wounded from receiving such spiteful words.

"O-Oh! You just didn't quote me that, witcher! You are beyond frank and hilarious when you are being verbally challenged!"

He heavily marched towards Geralt, stopping in front of him with his arms dramatically wide open; indignant of how petty he sounded for being asked over a question that was bound to be inquired soon enough because you were a person who came from another dimension that truly exists.

"I was simply asking what you would do when the rat finally needs to come home from where she rightfully belongs! What will happen to her?!----especially, to you, huh?!"

Geralt's eyes were heavy as it landed on him. Brooding. Crestfallen. Enough to say that the concept of it made him even more dejected and disgruntled. The witcher kept his mouth tightly shut, snapping his eyes away to mule over what he said.

You were already a part of his home besides his original family and Geralt didn't know what to do when one person leaves. Again. He was already done with leaving people and it wasn't surprising when karma hits him back as it'll use you as a pawn.

But, he does not opt for it to happen.

Jaskier brought his arms down to his sides. Baby blue eyes narrowed and his eyebrows pushed together to elicit his worry for his friend despite of the real deal that he also had with you.

"----Because apparently, you are in the risk of heartache when the time comes for her to leave. Isn't that right, Geralt?"

The break of dawn is nigh; dark and light colliding to meet the sun as they were finally reaching daybreak from all the fusses that was happening. He should've left before you even woke up, knowing you would be slightly upset as you weren't used to what life he had nor did you exactly have the vivid idea of everything.

You knew nothing at all and soon enough, Geralt was sure it'll kick him in the butt for not saying anything more about their world and for what it holds.

"You aren't just fond of her anymore. It's beginning to grow more than that," Jaskier honestly convinced his theories and observations, pausing to look at Geralt who has given him a tiny quirk of his brow for what he wanted to say, "---Before you tell me that it's because of something the Djinn has cast upon you both, it must be wrong."

Geralt went completely silent; letting Jaskier share his opinions laid out for him to understand, "You risked to appear in front of that wandering vampire that the queen has kept around---" pause. "---risked everything we had, trying to lay low from everyone because our lives are at stake here,"

Jaskier's weight fell on one foot to the other, raising a hand to point at himself as he continued to conclude, "You can fool anyone but me, Geralt. I can see who she is for you,"

"What do you want me to say, Bard?"

He brought a finger up to the witcher, ceasing his temper from bursting out of nowhere, "All I'm saying is that you shouldn't let her go." pause. "---Keep her, because I know you'll think of the greater good and try to fix everything according to your treacherous and foolish plans. Don't let her leave you---don't make her leave us,"

Geralt cocked his head to the side, forehead creased in confusion for the sudden contrast of his advice. His friend was technically not sounding forthright after asking him what his decision was with the involvement of you.

The latter started again, "Choose---" Brusque and impatient. His harsh, clipped tones cut him off. Geralt stated as a matter of fact, "---the lesser evil. So, I've been told."

He rounded up and dragged his feet away from the bard, walking the path back to his horse with a vexed Jaskier who angrily marched to where he was.

"No, you fool!" he ungraciously exclaimed, standing beside Geralt who took Roach's reigns, tugging at it as he motioned for her that it was time for her to gait, taking heavy steps away from their home while Jaskier followed close.

"---choose the greater good; even if the decision makes you selfish, Geralt."

The witcher looked up at the sky, seeing the beautiful sunny color paving its way to greet them a good morning. It wasn't a good morning to him based on how irritating the start of his day began. He stopped his mosey with an evident sigh, letting Jaskier continue to talk.

"---Stop challenging fate before it's too late---you deserve to be happy---surprising isn't it? From a bard who keeps on blabbing horse shite all the bloody time---well, I'm tired of being with a brooding witcher! If it means to be with a rat forever just for you to stop being cantankerous then I'm accepting the sacrifice!"

The bard's voice echoed across the meadow, combining along with the chirping of birds and the strong breeze of the morning wind. Roach was sniffing Geralt when he'd heard that soft padded footsteps jumping down their stairs in a hurried manner. He'd given Jaskier a disappointed look of his golden peepers; his plan now ruined that he would leave without bidding goodbye because of one bard that could always get under his skin for no reason.

"You were saying, bard?"

You were out of the threshold in no time. Hair in a tangled mess from your previous nightly adventures; along with your painted skin that had witcher bites, looking gauche from wearing Geralt's large tunic that ended on your knees with nothing under and a pout drawn to your face as you ran barefoot along the meadow, wildly screaming his name.

"Geralt-of-fucking-Rivia!" you panted and whined, never believing that he was leaving without any form of goodbyes, "---Don’t you dare step a foot! I swear to God, I will cut your majestic white hair when you walk away and I’ll never make you my special ale anymore!"

The threat was loud enough for him to cease his footsteps; plans of irritating you further would never be a good idea especially that he was leaving for a hunt. 

Palms upon your knee, you stood in front of the frowning witcher wearing his black, leather full gear armor; heaving deep pathetic breaths as your hauled over yourself, raising a hand to stop him from leaving.

When you've finally caught your breath, you promptly straightened your back; letting him see your swollen eyes due to sleeping late with probably morning dew slipping a few off the ends of your eyes. He affectionately caught sight of your upset ones; displeased from his sudden flee.

"How dare you leave when you know I don't wake up early like this?---and leaving without a hug!? Seriously, Geralt?!" you declared, obviously unsettled from being fucked the night after without waking you up to say that he was about to leave you for days in a world you hardly know about?

"---What if I don't get to see you again?"

Questions after questions, you demanded answers from Geralt in which it shall never be received based on how he simply watched you raved, feeling the discomfort and worry of leaving his family alone, "What if you never come back?" it sounded like you were thoroughly agonizing over the idea. You started to fret, toes feeling the moist pasture land over the soles of your feet; bringing you more concern.

"---What if I've been kidnapped or something?!"

Geraly shook his head, mouth in a tight thin line as he interrupted, "You're never leaving the house, midget. You need to take care of Cirilla," he let go of Roach's reigns to place his arms on either side of him, his tone more passive than yours, the words he told held more meaning as if he was giving a lot more trust than he can ever do by letting you handle the responsibility for his child of surprise even just for days.

The point simply tells you that he wasn't treating like you were his possession after admitting his feelings. Geralt was acting like a father and a husband for making you feel that way over supporting what he does for a living.

Just the act itself made you reach out for Geralt's hand, tightly clutching it in both of yours like you didn't want him to leave because you were feeling a little agitated for no reason. Overthinking always does take a toll on you. But often times, these female intuitions you have were correct for whatever bad feelings you were having.

Geralt closed his fist to subtly caress the back of your hand as Jaskier tried to convince and pour ice to your anxiety filled head, "Small rat, those are only predictions. He won't die yet. You're talking to a 100 year old witcher and you're frightened that he wouldn't come back alive?"

You face suddenly morphed into confusion, giving Jaskier a look of puzzlement. 100 years old? Geralt never looked that old to you, maybe his face was pretty much mature than yours but his features tells that he was around 30'ish and above, a lot more older than you nevertheless.

Geralt was still quiet as he continued to brush his thumb over the back of your hand. No objection was received and so, you believed Jaskier's words were true. Yet, his age never made you uneasy nor made you want to run for the hills. He was still Geralt. Your mean looking, soft-hearted witcher. More human than any other man can ever be.

He was yours. Only yours; and you needed to bite your tongue from saying words that would taser your heart from being unanswered.

"Wait---what--- you're a 100 years old?!?!----anyway, Geralt---!!" Geralt only hummed in dissatisfaction for Jaskier's existence in their world.

You peered up at the witcher with a fretful beam, your nose scrunching from feeling too worried for him when he goes out to hunt for his monsters; remembering what stories he told and the scars you've seen on his body. It was making your heart feel heavy, and Geralt wasn't a simpleton to not know nor feel how concerned you were for him.

It's been a long time since he's ever had someone making him feel all sorts of things and the doubled up emotions was making it more uncontrollable for the feelings he had for you.

"In our world, when a person leaves, they always bid their goodbyes!" Geralt drowsily blinked back at you, an utter soft flicker in his eyes that made your heart turn to mush.

Your eyes were hopeful as you asked, "---now, where's mine?"

You've let go of his hand, timidly standing before him with your frail arms on either side; wiggling your bare toes on the grass as you shyly waited for his reaction. Was it too much to ask even just a kiss before he goes?

"Goodbye, midget." the white wolf gravelly rasped, insincerity dripping in his tone because he didn't like bidding goodbyes to people he would still get to see again. The words seemed to be bitter for his taste, his farewell totally feigned because he was never going to leave for good. You've seen a tiny slip of his fangs as he talked and tried to regret what he said.

"---though, I doubt I meant that because I am not leaving for good,"

His reaction made you want to jump in a hole and just talk to yourself instead. Your face fell at that and Jaskier was found silently wincing from what the witcher has interpreted. He would rather bask in his own laughter and silence by himself than be punched by Geralt. So, he did; snorting a chuckle as he continued to eavesdrop and watched you both in a conversation.

Though, the bard's laughter was momentarily ceased when Geralt sent him a scowl.

"Why am I---why are witchers idiots? why are you an idiot sometimes?!"

Jaskier was known to be brave for even deciding to be Geralt's travel companion before; having the freedom to annoy him and never gotten the chance to end up beheaded or served as a meal for monsters. He was the only person who Geralt could handle no matter how he brings problems and for how annoying he can become.

However, at some point; they've gotten into a huge fight and it was intense. Luckily, they were on good terms right now after being separated.

"I second the notion, small rat!" the toubadour jested with a grin; Geralt's lack of knowledge about romantic gestures entertaining him.

You palmed your face in fluster and from the frustration; seeming more difficult to say what you truly wanted because Jaskier was close enough to hear what you could ask. A frown etched your face, grouching before the witcher like a kid that has never been given a big swirling rainbow lollipop.

"I didn't meant that! I meant---I meant---!"

You were stammering as you stood rooted on the ground, glancing up at Geralt while subtly pointing to your pouted lips. He calmly breathed out his frustrations from not understanding you prior before. But, the way his golden eyes lit up, sparkling beneath the sun's rays made you see that he knew what you meant.

His eyes were like diamonds twinkling under the sun and it always leaves you bewitched.

He has given Jaskier another grimace before humming back at you in comprehension, "A buss." His mouth curled in a small smile before you've seen him give you a gesture with his hand; urging you to come closer.

"Come ere'. You should've been more specific, midget."

Geralt slung an arm around your hips, his armor hitting your skin with soft clungs; pulling you closer to him as he leaned down to your height, catching your ajar lips in between his as he puckered to give you the most tender kiss you've received, taking you breath away like how he always does.

He'd kissed the tips of your vermillion, feeling like the other piece of your heart has been put together; making you feel complete. Satisfied. With the sudden life that was given to you when you woke up in the middle of the forest, having no idea how you've been transported.

But, experiencing no obstacles in their world from the time being was making you feel jittery because you knew life didn't work that way. It always leads you into an ocean, making you drown in impediments that can assuredly take the happiness away from you in just a flash.

You knew something was about to happen because fate always leads you in that position. It was like it wanted you to taste what contentment in life would be before snatching it out of your hands.

What would your fate bring you in their world?

Geralt has pulled away in the slightest amount. The tips of your vermillion brushing against his as your heart felt heavier to feel his warmth around you; not liking the concept of your witcher away because of certain reasons you couldn't explain. Faint voices has woken you up from your slumber, forewarning about him leaving you; urging for Geralt not to go which took you to run out of the door in your disheveled state.

He lightly gave you a kiss on the tips of your nose; your mouth frowned at that no matter how your heart slightly fluttered from the soft gesture. Geralt straightened his back as he has given Jaskier a knowing look. Jaskier unconsciously has given him a subtle roll of his eyes, feeling that he was being cocky for showing that he had the freedom to kiss you like that. It was how Geralt could define his repartee and Jaskier swore that he got one point of having the upper hand from the surprising physical display of affection.

"Difficult...to be lovers with a 100 year old witcher, won't you say?" he sent the message to you and sounded like he wanted to sulk but he covered the tone with a feigned cough.

Light hurried footfall came falling behind. The Ashen haired child announced her appearance with a look of nausea; her nose twisted in distaste for what she saw because she had already been watching you three in a distance.

"Ugh, gross." she joked, quickly replacing her abhorrence with a genuine smile, "---Is this how disgusting it is to see a child's parents kiss?"

Everybody turned to look at her, the arm that has snaked around you was now gone as you also looked at the princess with a bewildered expression for what she'd said. Nobody dared to object nor concur to what they've heard, only reticence.

But, not for Jaskier. He'd called Cirilla out for saying those words unexpectedly.

"So, you're calling them your parents now? Mother? Father?---and me?"

The lion cub of Cintra raised a sardonic brow as she tightly crossed her arms over her chest, tone all jest and playful as she commented, "---Which leads to you, bard." she abruptly paused to make it sound more intriguing as she spat, "---a dust mite in the household."

Cirilla took several steps closer to Geralt, making you fall back to give them time together. You've given them both a loving smile to indicate that you loved seeing them interact all the time because of how compassionate he was over his child, such a fatherly thing he appeared to be like, with the princess finding comfort and protection in his arms as she stepped closer to give the witcher a big, bear hug that he certainly didn't think twice to accept.

"Take care, Geralt. More than ever--please do come back,”

You eyed Geralt who was hugging Cirilla, your smile turning wider than ever as you lively jested among the affectionate scene you were seeing from a father and daughter.

"Is this the part where we should give you a group hug?---Okay! Okay! I'm joining!" Cirilla wholly accepted the idea of that and pulled your arm to surround beside her and Geralt; his hand immediately falling on your side, grabbing you closer once you were pulled by the pretty child.

The giggles that he heard from you both has lifted a smile on his brooding, sharp features. He lowly hummed in content before lifting his eyes off his girls in his arms to glance at Jaskier who seemed to suddenly be out of humor.

"Bard." he gruffly called out, amused from how the troubadour was despondent from the whole thing happening. Geralt gave an audible huff, alarming Jaskier because he knew what he was thinking. The witcher was thinking how pathetic he was looking to be so withdrawn over the abrupt embraces under the newly emerging morning sun.

"A dust mite mustn't interfere with a family group hug---oof! This is harassment!"

Jaskier was strongly pulled by Geralt who took no complaints over the embosom he was in, puffing out a frustrated breath as he tried to pull back from the embrace but had no choice when the witcher was using his strength, his hand behind the poet. His slight struggle painless for him. He gave the bard a strong pat on the back that made him cough out on how his lungs hurt from the sudden attack.

His grapples were cut short when you've placed your palm just below Geralt's; giving Jaskier a hug as well. Your touch felt unexpected as the white wolf heard his sudden heart palpitations over the subtle brush of your fingers on his friend.

Geralt knew, but not you.

Jaskier will be fine. If this was the only affectionate gesture that he could get you in, so be it. His unrequited affection will go away slowly, he hoped.

The white wolf's departure haven't lasted for a day till you were low spirited enough to stare out onto the windows, sitting on the stoned sill of the windows. Your viewpoint giving such reverence over how immeasurable their world could offer. From trees to the core of their land certainly looked earthy to you. A facsimile of what your world has been. Do they have oceans too? Noodles? Oh, you definitely wanted noodles for thinking about it.

Kaedwen. It was what their kingdom is called. You've also heard about Nilfgaard. Novigrad. But, you have no idea as to what it looks like rather than the kingdom of Kaedwen that looks no good like how you imagined Switzerland to be if you were talking about how the government treats their people.

Humans were treated poorly and even to the point of selling themselves as slaves; remembering what you have heard and saw while walking around the marketplace back then. They were living in dirt and striving to live with the ones who were abundant, seeing like they could never surpass to be cared for like they were humans.

Their government are treating them like garbage. The medieval movies you've watched were real because you also remember how you were close to being sold by a nobleman because no one knew who you were; having no name or a bloodline that could save you from being abjected.

Except for Geralt who needed to create a bloodbath just for you to live. The act alone has probably given him a violation against their law because of how he'd killed knights or people. Or was it legal for it happen?

You were staring far too long out in the open; waiting for your witcher to come back. What if he was away to probably find the sorceress that could bring you back home? Or better yet, what if he did find Yennefer and comes back choosing her instead because you're too dependent over him. His tiny mortal who always needed saving?

What if he gets tired of you? will he throw you away just like how people treat their lovers in earth when they're bored of each other?

What if you've just existed in their dimension because you were needed to fill the empty gap of Geralt's heart until he finds the sorceress?

You've asked Jaskier about it the past few days ago which has left your heart in a disgruntled mess when you've had answers over his relationships he never tells about.

"So, Yennefer, huh?" you've followed Jaskier out of the house. Nightfall was about to come by soon and Geralt wasn't around as he left with no words. The bard jogged through the end of the meadow till he'd reach the edge of the vast forest, twigs and branches breaking apart from every step when you've trailed behind him with a bothered heart.

"What?---Oh! You're asking me who she is?" Jaskier crouched to pick up blocks of wood that will cover up the whole night full of brisk as darkness was bound to visit soon. You hugged yourself to calm down the goosebumps that rose your skin when the cold hits you,"---Would you want a simplified explanation or a detailed one?"

You thought for a moment before feeling your heart beat ringing in your ears. It was that loud for the anticipation running in your veins for how curious you were about Geralt and a vision of his past, "The simplified one,"

Jaskier continued his rummaging, picking up woods after woods as he nonchalantly tittle-tattled, "She's a strong, fierce sorceress. Nice too because she's helped me out of a curse but also kind of rude to me---I am not biased just because of the whole crow’s feet ordeal---they've shared quests and I've been there to witness how they connect with each other. However, their relationship has lots of ups and downs. They've somehow find each other no matter what happens back in the decades except for now."

Your throat felt like there was some phantom hands trying to choke you; constantly bickering back to tell how strong and powerful she was that they've shared tales and adventures. It was downing over your head about how much of a burden you have been to Geralt, the constant feeling of your relationship with him being the cause of the responsibility he had for taking you because he had no other choice that he was the first person you've encountered.

You were definitely the most useless amongst his prior lovers.

He shrieked when a large bug has flew over his face, flicking them away with his hands as he threw his arms around; trying to hit the bug with a block of wood as he continued to talk, "---Move away, you shite of a bug!---Geralt stopped finding her due to reasons I have no clue about and because he needed to avoid people at all costs---but---oh, gods. It’s quite difficult to explain,"

Jaskier has gathered all the wood he needed. You've reach out to help him carry the blocks but before you could even touch them, he'd stepped away and walked around you as he continue to speak, "Oh, and about Renfri; don't bother nor think about it."

He heard your footfalls following him back to the meadow and even heard you exclaim, "Why?"

"She's reached her demise. Explains why Geralt has a moniker named the 'butcher of Blaviken'. Ended up killing her to save an ignoble child named Masha---Martha---Marilka?! Oh, whatever! He chose that to save the innocent lives of people instead. He never told you that?"

Your felt the needles poking through your chest because of how naive it felt to know nothing about it, also feeling sad about her early demise. You've remembered how Geralt ceased his stories when he'd reach the part where he went to a town named Blaviken; not even bothering to tell you that he has met a woman named Renfri and somehow had such hapless fate between them both.

You felt foolish. Ignorant over a story that was never told. Hence, it was enough to turn that smile upside down as you quietly muttered, "No."

Jaskier stopped walking, waiting for you to catch up as you stood beside him with a frown. He'd given you the twinkle of his pretty baby blue eyes with a sympathetic smile as he uttered, "That's never new, though. It's understandable. I've experienced it too, don't worry. Geralt has always been Geralt. He rarely becomes loquacious,"

You've crossed your arms behind your back, your fingers fidgeting; nails scratching your palm from how you were feeling the tiny prickle of your nerves telling that you weren't in the best part of your brain. The dragging feeling on your chest adding more weight from the start that Jaskier has opened his mouth to chat.

"He does that for anyone, huh? Saving people, I mean."

Jaskier was oblivious about how you've turned your head away to anxiously nibble on your lower lip. He was incognizant over your disappointed mental breakdown of your own self because he went on to simply tell, "No matter how he says that he doesn't want to be involved nor desires for anyone needing him. He still saves them because---"

You immediately cut him off, swallowing the tight knot in your throat, looking at him in the eye with a disheartened gaze, "He doesn't want people needing him?"

"Geralt never liked it. But, guess what brought you here! You! Even had the chance of needing Geralt because you were lost and vulnerable. Was it out of pity? I---I---No. No. Definitely not out...of...pity?"

When the moment he'd seen your eyes, Jaskier was quick to know that he made the wrong choice of words and even the topic to tell. He gave an awkward grin, instantly regretting what he said when you've shifted those eyes to look away.

"Why did they never see each other again?"

The bard has cursed himself repeatedly inside his mind, praying to the gods that you won't be mad at Geralt when he comes home because him and Cirilla didn't need another chance of being surrounded by the silence eating them up when you both are having misunderstandings or issues about each other.

"The witcher has made mistakes. He let her slip away. They've parted after a pretty intense fight."

He'd pretty much simplified everything, sounding like he told it to you in bullet form and left you alone in the middle of the field as he ran back inside. Though, it was too late. You've heard what is needed to know and the discomfort that dropped inside your stomach felt like these feelings you had for Geralt was already serious.

It was definitely too late because you've lately realized that liking him wasn't the correct term. Love felt better and deeper.

Soft knocking has pulled you off your reverie which has made you blink as you swiftly turned your head to see a child whom you also have a soft heart for. This child that has no idea why she was being persecuted---or maybe you were the person who had no thought again as to what reason and purpose does Nilfgaard want from her because honestly, all you could see from her was a child who had nobody left behind for her to console. If it wasn't for Geralt, she probably would have been taken by the people who want her.

You narrowed your gaze and gave her a bit of your scrutiny, angling your head in a way that tells the child you were trying to look through her. Did she have some sort of magic too? Was she a mutant too?

"Mum'?---will it be alright for me to call you that? I--I---I don't want to call you rat or midget," she tried to call you for the third time. Her bright cobalt eyes buoyant as she wend one's way, ceasing before you with a tight-lipped smile.

"I'm sorry, what did you just say?" you softly pardoned with a sweet smile.

The princess couldn't help but bashfully give a beam, conscious if you've said that because you didn't want to be called that way. But, she gave no second doubts and repeated her questions again; anxiously and hopeful to undertake.

"Can I call you Mum'? Everybody has a nickname for you and also considering how you've started taking care of me---with---with Geralt now deeming as your beloved..." she trailed off in the middle of her sentence and you waited for her to continue but it was intentionally left to be dithered.

Heat traveled towards your cheeks. The princess wanted to call you 'Mum'? you silently questioned yourself. Your heart beat was racing from being accepted by his child of surprise, sounding like she wanted you to be her mother and seeing her fret before you made you think that she would gladly be your daughter as long as you were comfortable.

"Beloved? Right! Right! You can call me anything you want, Ciri."

The affirmation made her give you a toothy grin. Cirilla didn't think twice and merrily cajoled with a small hop of her feet that were close against each other, "Great, Mum'! Can you teach me how to bake?---maybe a cake---oh! Or a very scrumptious bread!?"

Your sullen features have been promptly lifted on the spot. You've grasped onto what she wanted, a distraction from how apprehensive she seemed to be like from the way her heels tap on the stone floor and to the way her forehead was slightly creased like she was on pins and needles. The princess was even worried because Geralt wasn't around to guard anyone in the household.

Her wrist was quickly snatched by you, pulling her out of your chambers and running through the hallway, towards down the stairs with heavy, excited thumps.

"Of course! would you like me to teach you how I'd baked blueberry muffins from the other night?"

The lion cub of Cintra hummed in mirth, nodding behind despite of knowing you couldn't see her as you pulled her around. Your eyes scanned the first floor of the house to see Kolby snuffling the front door with Jaskier no where to be seen.

You passed by the newly fixed table; knowing that Geralt ended up fastening back what was ruined. Trying to whisk your head away, you did you best not to feel the warmth spread over your face. Toes were lifted up to the highest as you reached for the door of the cupboards to see the bowls all gone when the last time you remembered; the white wolf has changed the position of plates in a much lower level for your sake.

Jaskier was just intentionally doing it right now and it made your blood boil for his constant teasing.

"I'm going to strangle that bard. I swear to Thor; I hope he hits Jaskier with a lightning---where did he even place all the bowls again?!" you complained more so to yourself as Cirilla was left standing on your side, waiting for your next command.

You've gestured with your hand, making her stay inside the kitchen while you walked away. The Hirikka suddenly howling out of the blue when you jogged towards the front door, stepping out of the threshold as Kolby followed suit.

"Jaskier?!" a loud yell echoed as you called at the top of your voice; seeing no bard anywhere.

Kolby unexpectedly sprinted, running off your side as he turned along the path around the house where the back door lead to.

You groaned out loud, strolling to where the Hirikka went, "Jaskier! Will you please tell me where---Jaskier!"

An ear-piercing shriek left your lips. Heart stopped from beating, your blood running cold as you were filled with panic and fear from seeing Jaskier hunkered down in the middle of chevaliers circling him like he was being tyrannized.

Armored gallants sat on their horses, their helmets taken off their faces which has given you images of what they looked like. A mixture of different ethnicity that you were well aware of back in earth. But, they've shared gazes in their eyes that placed you in a horrified position that tells everything was about to go down and it wasn't just Jaskier hunched on the ground.

When he heard your footsteps, he was pleading that you wouldn't actually visit the back part of the house but seeing Kolby safeguarding as he stood in front of you; thoroughly feral and livid for visitors that weren't invited at all, Jaskier knew all hell was about to break lose.

"A liar, bard." you've heard that voice back in the marketplace, a timbre you didn't wish to hear ever again as it haunts you with memories that he was a mystical being and the person who has stabbed you to bleed.

"The witcher didn't bring his little woman all along," Tybalt's breath fanned your ears, making you hastily step away from the vampire with your eyes all wide from the spine-chilling memory that gets you shunning away. Kolby was rapid enough to slip in between the uncomfortable space that Tybalt has locked you in, all predatory and wild as the movement made you stumble down beside Jaskier.

You've coughed out from being accidentally pushed to the ground, the knights of Kaedwen stepping back to include you in the tyranny of hopeless pleading. The bard's lip was wounded. Broken. Bleeding. Claret colored liquid painting his teeth which tells that they've been bashing him for quite some painful minutes. His doublet untidy and disordered from their constant forceful pulling.

"Rat," he weakly groused, holding onto his battered stomach. Jaskier tightly blinked the dirt out of his eyes as he spitefully spat the blood, wiping the blood off his busted lip with the back of his hand. His golden dagger tightly on his palm as he ceaselessly jested. The words coming out of his lips sounding familiar as you remembered you've said it to him before in the middle of being taken.

"---You had one job."

NO UPDATE FOR THIS UPCOMING JUNE 27, BB’S! I’mma take a break! (Or not because I always end up opening my drafts and try to write lmao) I’ll probably write the future chapters for everyone and so, I won’t get stuck on procrastinating before school starts in about after 2 months. LMAO. I get anxious when I think about this fic being unfinished due to random reasons because I don’t want that. FEEDBACKS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED! (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you)

Taglist for WOTN: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernaturalhero @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer @marvelousell @kingniazx @angelias134 @tapismyforte @chook007 @covid-donotenter @winter-moons @cheesecakeisapie @silverkitten547 @angelofthor @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum, @stuckupstucky, @shesthelastjedi, @a--1--1--3, @gutfucks​, @raynosaurus-rex

Overall witcher taglist: @pizza-eater-i-ate-the-pizza​

General taglist: @agniavateira​, @iloveyouyen​, @rahdaleigh​,

[fangirleaconmigo]

I so share your opinion on the word butcher and the meaning for Geralt and I hate the writers for choosing that particular word. I can't accept that they don't associate it with racism bc that was the whole point of the first episode and they made it obvious how much Geralt hate being called like that. But the sad truth is that seeing some of Lauren's tweets she really seems clueless with such things. And knowing what happens at the end of the lady of the lake, it makes it even worse. Also I don't understand the people who wanted Geralt to ask for forgiveness for his behavior in 1x06 but are completely fine with the song. One was having a bad behavior towards a person privately, he was lashing out and he definitely should ask for forgiveness but it was a private fight, no call for hate for jaskier. The other was telling to a crowd that hates the witchers and considers them monsters, that in fact they are monsters. I hope they revisit that in the future but I doubt it. Thanks for your metas.

Thank you!

I find it so interesting. Geralt and Jaskier’s conflict is like a Rorschach blot test for viewers. I mean, all art is. But how we respond to fictional conflicts has everything to do with our own personal flaws, experiences, and traumas.

For example, that scene on the mountain and how someone responds to it, usually says something about whether that person is typically the person who loses their temper or if they are the one who people have lost their temper on.

And to complicate it further, how do people feel about the relationship up to that point? The big theme of their relationship is that Geralt refuses to call him his friend. He refuses to admit he likes him, and even refuses to use the word.

So. Do you (the general you) think that Geralt very obviously cares about him and is just being grumpy? Or do you feel that Geralt barely tolerates him? That probably depends on your own values or expectations of friendship.

Then FURTHER complicating THAT is the fact that there is little actual development of that friendship “on screen”. The friendship is drastically underwritten relative to the emotional role it must play. So we are all operating from different impressions of what that relationship is like day to day.

I have been on witcher Twitter, Witcher tumblr, ao3 and (until recently) discord almost every damn day since the show came out. So I have seen every possible characterization and opinion on their conflict. And at this point in the fandom, there has been backlash, backlash to the backlash, and another round of backlash to that as far as how people feel about, or characterize it.

But I digress.

Then we finally get S2 and we find that Geralt actually left him on the mountain and hasn’t returned to find him or apologize the entire time, and Jaskier is singing Burn Butcher Burn, a song that I find (I’m with you on this one) completely inextricable from racism and bigotry.

So.

If I were to acknowledge and perceive Burn Butcher Burn, here is how I see it “in world”. (this is not an endorsement, babes I’m just talking)

You know how someone is mean to you and you lose it? Maybe stuff has built up or you’ve got other shit going on? So you react with such disproportionate spite that you INSTANTLY lose all high ground? Two second ago you wanted an apology and now your dumb clown ass has to grovel? Lmao

That’s how I see this. So now you know my very personal individual reaction to it based on my own psyche.

Geralt said some cruel shit. That sucks. It’s not ok to yell at people you love and talk to them that way. An apology would have been in order. I personally hate being yelled at with my whole heart and soul. But if I love someone enough to be friends with them for 20(!) years, I’m gonna forgive someone a mistake in the heat of the moment. People make mistakes.

Now we find out that Geralt apparently left him there without saying a single word. That’s worse. He would have a long way to go to make up for that. If Jaskier didn’t want to he his friend anymore that would be his decision.

But Jaskier?

Burn Butcher Burn???????? Since we have established that I associate that with racism and bigotry against Geralt, and it is unquestionably associated with one of his worst traumas this side of the trials, I literally cannot think of many things more singe-your-eyebrows off cruel. Joey played it with such amazing grief and emotion. But even so. How long was he singing that? How many people did he sing it to? Over and over and over? And publicly?

The facts of it can’t overcome even that gorgeous performance.

It is, for me, from my perspective, unthinkably cruel.

I’ve had people say to me “haven’t you said anything out of cruelty?”

And to that I’d say two things. First, haven’t you ever loved someone so much that no matter how you break up, whether they are in your life or not, there is always a part of you that will protect them? Have you? I have. And the second and most significant bit it…if bigotry is not in you, it doesn’t matter how hurt or drunk you get, it still ain’t in there.

So again, we’re back at the various ways you can look at the word Butcher.

So. If I have to put this “in world” I have to believe that either Jaskier doesn’t make that connection, or is in such grief that it’s like a fugue state and he doesn’t grasp the reality of what he is doing.

Then if I were writing their reunion, I would have the reality, the full weight of what he’s done just drop on him like a load of bricks the moment he sees Geralt’s face in the flesh.

And he would apologize. And I would write Geralt responding in the most emotionally devastating way possible: by instantly forgiving him.

Yeah. It’s fine.

Because deep down, Geralt has always suspected he is actually a butcher or a monster.

And that has to devastate Jaskier because he has worked SO HARD for SO LONG to get Geralt to see himself as a good man.

And in the end, he is the one that has pushed the ability to do that out of Geralt’s grasp. Because if the friend who loves him most sees him that way the minute he hurts him, well then, it must be true.

I think it’s a long way back from that one. And though Geralt forgives him, he never forgives himself.

But of course I’m not writing the show.

[onthepageoftears]

What Was Lost —  Pt 1 (Jaskier x Reader) || Witcher

A/N: Okay so i started writing this and it was superrrr long, so i decided to split it into two. The second part will come out tomorrow, don’t you worry. Anyway, this is yet another entry for @thewitcherbingo​ so I hope everyone enjoys! Also, this was based on a post in the witcher tag that is linked below :)

Summary: Y/N, a famous bard, is cursed by a sorceress and loses her voice, leaving her only hope to get it back with the famous Witcher and her rival, Jaskier.

(based on this post)

Bingo Square Filled: Rivalry

Warnings: mentions of loss, grief, death, sex, drinking all the good stuff lmao; also fluff and angst!!

Word Count: 2,257

Please Don’t Plagiarize My Work!

(Pt 2)

Loss was not something you were unfamiliar with.

The haziness of loss clouded over you throughout your whole life. One step after the other, you experienced what it meant to be disappointed and left behind — never really on purpose, but that didn’t mean you weren’t bitter about it. Bitter at the world, yes, but also at yourself.

Your mother died soon after she gave birth to you; her short, but wholly loving embrace was only a memory you had from what others told you. Not knowing what it was like to have a mother made the loss of her feel less than what it should have been; you felt complete with the life you had, though the curiosity of what a mother’s touch felt like barely left your mind. Still, being surrounded by the rest of your family kept your loss from overtaking your life, and for a while, you were a relatively content child.

And then, your father didn’t come home.

He had been attacked by bandits — any merchant was at that risk, but never did it cross your mind that your very own father could be a victim. Of course, your naive mind was flipped upside down when you went looking for him and found his cart ripped apart only a couple miles down the road from your village. Everything was taken, including your father’s life, and you were once again reminded of how heavy your heart could feel when something was ripped away from it.

As you tried to make it in the world, you felt loss tracking your every move. It was a cloud that was just on the brink of churning up a thunderstorm right over your head. But, as you grew, the cloud shrank, until it was totally gone. You were finally free of what it meant to lose because you had gained so much. But the freedom from loss never truly left a person, and you would soon realize that despite a large gain, loss would always be lingering around the corner.

—

You were a fiery bard. It was one of your famous attributes, one of the things that kept people coming to your performances. That, and your singing voice. It was an unusually unique thing — your father used to call it a gift that no one knew existed. Your voice was as fiery and passionate as you were, and bards from near and far envied you for it.

And you fed off of that, like a leech from the nearby river. You loved the way other bards watched you perform with a hateful glint in their eyes that could only be described as friendly competition. It was what kept you going — that, and the coin. You had made a name for yourself in your own time, but it was all worth it. You had people nearly begging to hear your voice, others begging to have your voice, and some wishing it was gone completely.

“Jaskier.” You emerged from the cheering crowd and smirked at the fellow bard; your set had just ended and happened to be preceding the young man in front of you. Though the crowd seemed overjoyed, he was quite the opposite.

“Y/N.” He practically seethed. “Quite the show.”

“It was, wasn’t it?" Your smile never left despite the man’s hateful expression.

Though you’d hate to admit it, Jaskier was your best competition. He wasn’t always — once you were almost an inspiration to him, despite you two being around the same age. But as soon as he met Geralt, the mysterious witcher, he finally found what he was good at performing. It was honestly quite sad when Jaskier would go out on adventures, as none of the other bards had the guts to challenge you.

Even though you two had quite the rivalry, you had a lot of respect for the bard. You had seen him rise in his career, seen the good and the bad from him, and in the end, you knew he was quite the talent. You weren’t sure how he felt about you, but that wasn’t something you needed to know — just like he didn’t need to know of your slight admiration of him.

You flashed Jaskier a bigger smile. “I can only hope your performance will keep the crowd excited.”

“Oh, it will, I can promise you that.”

“Your promises hold the validity of a drunken sailor.”

“And your voice the beauty of a Drowner’s bum.” This time, Jaskier smiled. Despite the vile words that escape his lips, he seemed happy to be back.

You rolled your eyes. “A Drowner’s bum is beautiful to someone.” You tapped underneath your eye. “The eye of the beholder.”

“More like the ear of the beholder.” Jaskier’s eyes purposefully ran down your body, then back to your face. “Did you ever think you’d be helping the world if your voice was…gone?”

“Of course not. If that were true, maybe you’d be the one the crowd was calling on for an encore.” You quirked a brow and his eyes flicked to the crowd that was chanting your name. He took his cup of ale and threw the rest of the liquid back into his mouth, letting out a frustrated groan as he slipped past you. “Good luck!” You called, and he scrunched his nose aggressively at you; you only laughed at his gesture and took his seat at the bar.

As you waited for your drink, your mind wondered about what Jaskier said. He was kidding, you hoped, but you thought — gods forbid — if you didn’t have your famously known voice, what would you do? What would make you happy?

You shook the thought away. Ever since you were a child, singing was a way to make the bad times okay. It didn’t cure all your pain, but it simmered it, and because of that you were here. It was silly to think of such events, so you decided to put your mind on more important matters.

The cup of fresh ale was on your lips when you heard the woman speak.

“The mind is a strange thing.”

You turned your head slightly — the voice was soft, but loud. Like a whisper only you could hear. It was especially surprising because Jaskier had already started his performance, where everyone was singing along and making as much racket as they could. Yet still, you could hear the woman’s voice.

She was quite young looking, but her eyes seemed even wiser than what her age inferred — something told you she lived longer on this Earth than anyone you had ever met; which, to be fair, wasn’t saying much. Still, the slight twitch in her smile sent a shiver down your spine.

You placed down your drink. “What was that?”

“The mind.” The woman slinked into the open space between your seat and the man next to you. “It is quite strange, don’t you think?”

“I think I’m too sober for this.” You laughed and took another gulp of your drink. After gritting your teeth from the strength of the ale, you turned to the woman. “Do you want an autograph?”

She kept a steady smile. “No. I want you to help you find what you are missing.”

Your eyebrows furrowed at the calmness of her statement. This woman had to be crazy; perhaps she was playing a joke on you. But the look in her eyes told you otherwise. You stuttered. “Ex-excuse me?” You watched as the woman took out a small jar. She opened the lid and gestured for you to look inside. You didn’t. “What the hell is this?”

Though before you could hear her clearly, now her words were just a distant whisper. It was another language, surely, and the longer she spoke the more uneasy you felt. As you opened your mouth to speak, a strong wince of pain burrowed in the bottom of your throat, making you grab your neck with a free hand. You looked back at the older woman, who closed up the jar and waved it in front of your face. Your eyes caught a small rune-like symbol on the bottle before she placed it back in her pouch.

“When you find me, you will know.”

In the blink of an eye, her unsettling smile was gone. And so was your voice.

Just like that, the cloud of loss had returned. Your heart felt so heavy that it weighed you down as you desperately clawed at the emptiness of your throat. You wanted to scream for someone to grab the woman, to help you, for anything — but you couldn't. You grabbed at the people around you, forcing them to turn and glare. But as you dropped to the floor, the people knew something was wrong — they crowded around, towering over you with their fearful eyes and loud shrieks of worry. As you searched the faces for someone who could help, you realized the only thing you could do in that moment was let the world around you go dark.

—

You woke up in a room that you knew wasn’t your own. It wouldn’t be the first time it happened (being a bard had its perks) but it would be the first time you saw a person waiting over you.

“Oh, thank the gods you aren’t dead.” Jaskier’s relieved face hovered over your own, only leaning back once you widened your eyes at his presence. “The crowd was worried. They would’ve had a riot if you didn’t wake up.”

You frowned and opened your mouth to speak. Did I faint? But your voice made no sound.

Panic rose in your chest as you sat up, your hand raising to grasp at your throat. So it wasn’t a dream. Your eyes watered almost immediately, both from the fear that banged against your ears and the scratches you were leaving on your own neck.

“Hey, hey — woah, woah, woah okay, calm down. Calm down, Y/N.” Jaskier sat on the bed next to you and grabbed your hands as they clawed at your skin — despite your silent protest, he held them down in your lap. His eyes scanned your face as you tried to scream the words you were thinking.

“Can you…can you not speak?”

You shook your head and, trying to relax your shaking hands, let out what would have been a long sigh.

Jaskier stared at you for a moment, squinting his eyes as he processed what was happening. He lifted his hands and placed one on his chin. “So you weren’t trying to sabotage my set?” You could only glare at him, but he was too busy mumbling to himself. “Yes, well, either way, it worked.”

You slapped him in the arm, bringing his attention back to you.

“Right. You can’t speak — or sing. Oh. Oh boy. This is not good for you.”

“What do you remember?”

The voice took you aback, and as you swiveled your head to the other side of the room, there stood the famous witcher from Jaskier’s songs. Geralt. You had never had a proper introduction, though you supposed now wasn’t the time.

You closed your eyes and tried to shake the memories back into place — after fainting, you were still feeling a little lightheaded. Still, your mind drifted back to the moment before, when the woman smiled all too politely in your face. I want to help you find what you are missing. But what you were missing?

You opened your eyes and looked at the men who stared back at you. With an eye roll, you made a gesture of writing.

“Ah, yes.” Jaskier snapped his fingers towards Geralt. “The notebook, by the table.”

Geralt picked up the notebook and quill and handed it to you with a nod. “Geralt, by the way.”

You nodded back, somehow getting used to the loss of your own voice. Without dwelling on it too much, you wrote what you were thinking.

Once you handed it to him, Jaskier read your note out loud, “‘She said something was missing.’” He looked up and blinked. “What was missing?”

You widened your eyes at him with a clenched jaw, as if to say ‘how should I know’. He shrugged.

Geralt huffed. “Anything else you remember?”

You closed your eyes and tried to think of the woman. Creepy smile, bright but aged eyes, the clear whisper of her voice, the jar—

You scribbled on the notebook and flipped the page towards Geralt.

Geralt frowned. “A jar with a rune. Looks like a rune for — oh.”

You frowned. Jaskier answered for you. “Oh?”

“It’s old — very old. The only sorceress I know of that uses it —“

“A sorceress?” Jaskier exclaimed for you. He jumped up from the bed, nearly hopping in his spot. “Now this is interesting.”

This time, Geralt spoke for you, “It wasn’t interesting enough with a lost voice?”

“Of course it was. But a sorceress? This could be the greatest tale of all the Continent. And beyond!” Jaskier turned to you with a grimace. “No offense.”

You flipped him the bird. Then, picked up the pen and wrote: Fix?

Geralt nodded at the writing. “I know where the sorceress lives. We can be there in under a week if we leave in the morning.”

“Wonderful!” Jaskier clapped his hands together and smiled way too brightly. “Tomorrow it is!”

You supposed you didn’t have much of a choice. You closed your eyes and let out a silent breath, wishing this nightmare would be over soon.

———————————————————————————————————

Tags: @trees-fanfic​

[ivegotbreadinmypants]

16 normal witcher au , 1 , 34

Geralt/Jaskier—Angst

Prompt list post—

AU: 16 - Supernatural AU

Trope: 1 - Friends to Lovers

Prompt: 34 - “I don’t even know why we’re doing this.”

A/N: Oh lord, this ended up being so long lmao. I got pretty damn inspired by this prompt and my brain got carried away. But I swear, not every prompt is going to be as long or angsty as this one. This one—oof

Word Count: 3317

Warning: Angst, light self-loathing on Geralt’s side.

By the time they leave the tavern, the village has been swallowed by darkness, the sky an inky black. The innkeeper who gave them their contract didn’t spare details, possibly the result of the air of fear emanating from everyone in the village.

People wander into the woods in the middle of the night, usually after days of complaining of horrific dreams; it’s brought everyone on edge, eyes full of distrusting hope when they see the Witcher and the bard enter the tavern.

They’ve crossed the blood-stained meadows and are already skirting the edge of the forest when Jaskier asks, “What is it? The creature?”

The poor bard nearly slips on an unseen rock, giving a startled yelp that disturbs the rows of crows resting on branches above them. Geralt turns around, a nasty glare in his glowing amber eyes. Jaskier used to think they were beautiful.

“Shut up,” the Witcher grits out, continuing down the path without waiting for the bard. A deep frown covers Jaskier’s face, eyes dull, but only for a second, because he doesn’t want—

Jaskier straightens up and forges on, ignoring the hollow beating of his heart.

When Geralt approached him two months ago—a full year after it—Jaskier had thought things would change, that everything would be different and being with Geralt doesn’t have to mean having his heart squeezed and broken as if it were a nailed to a wheel—the cycle repeating over and over.

He thought everything would go back to the way it was, but better, after the Witcher had willingly apologised—after the man had opened his heart and let every hurt pour out in full view for the bard. He’d been wrong.

Geralt is still as well-guarded as he was, even after they shared a painfully tender moment when he gave his apology. It’s like Geralt wants to erase the memory of that having happened.

At first, Jaskier thought it was down to Geralt still not used to being generally open with his feelings—that the man needs a little more time to adjust to their slightly different dynamic. But as time passed, as the scathing remarks and dry barks from the White Wolf never once relented, Jaskier had a slow dreadful realization. Geralt isn’t going to change.

And it’s only a matter of time before it—Jaskier’s heart skips a tormenting beat—happens again.

Jaskier doesn’t want to be here when his whole world inevitably burns down to ashes again.

He trails after Geralt a little ways, giving them both space—space that Jaskier despises now because he knows no matter how much land there is between the two of them, Jaskier will always feel like there’s galaxies of space separating them.

He feels like a husk, an empty shell of who he used to be, and it’s getting worse the longer he lingers and waits for his heart to be shattered in the hands of the man he used to trust with his life.

He has to leave. It’s hurting him in ways he can’t even see, can’t even fathom. He can’t see the extent of his grisly scars because they’ve been woven into his skin for so long he’s forgotten.

Twenty-two years and counting.

Jaskier bites on his lip, pressing hard until it tears through. Copper tinges his tongue and he wonders how much longer will he not feel the pain. Everything is so numb it hurts.

Geralt stops, sniffs the air.

The bard inwardly sighs, an ire-stricken face of one Witcher popping into his head. He doesn’t have to meet Geralt’s eyes to feel the vexation.

“Jaskier, what the fuck?”

This time, Jaskier sighs out loud, “What, Geralt? It’s nothing.”

Geralt spins on his heel, a twitch in his eyebrow when he notices the space between the two of them, and crosses the threshold to enter Jaskier’s space.

“What did you do?”

“Nothing. Just bit my lip on accident,” Jaskier mutters, quiet and meek and nothing like him.

Geralt doesn’t need Witcher senses to know something is wrong, because even he cocks his head a little to the side, a curious look to his otherwise irritated gaze.

Jaskier looks up, drawing his eyes to meet amber ones. He’s struck with the thought this may be the last time he’ll ever see them.

His voice is soft. “I don’t even know why we’re doing this.”

Geralt’s brows furrow, some of the hated ire vanishing. “To finish the contract. The alp.”

Jaskier’s lips stretch into half a smile, but it’s hollow and dimmed. His words are defeated, softer now. “That’s not what I mean, Geralt.”

The Witcher loses some of his confused fog, something acute and sharp in his eyes replacing it.

“Jaskier,” there’s the smallest pressing tone in his voice. The bard only breathes out, a cheap imitation of a chuckle, a little too quick for it to be a normal conversation; even then, it sounds flat.

There isn’t even a shadow of anger in Jaskier’s body, all of the fiery feelings snuffed out over hours, days and months of waiting for Geralt to change. But there’s a deep sadness painted on every surface within, delicate and unwavering, never leaving.

Jaskier’s blue eyes bore into Geralt’s, words easing out of his mouth. “I can’t keep doing this.”

The sharpness in golden honey hardens, the gruffness accentuated, “Jaskier.”

Jaskier takes a step back—avoiding his touch—when the Witcher reaches out, as if he wanted to shake sense into the bard. For the first time in a long time, Jaskier sees something in Geralt crack.

The poet—but is he one anymore? He hasn’t written anything in so long—shakes his head, standing taller. “I’m leaving, Geralt.”

There’s a sharp inhale, the leather of his armor creaking when he reels back, the line of Geralt’s jaw hardening under the moonlight, as if he was struck.

Jaskier dimly realizes this may actually hurt Geralt.

But he forges on, blue eyes unrelenting in the darkness, “I’m leaving.”

“No,” Geralt bites out, his upper lip curling.

Something in Jaskier sparks, blazing hot for a split second. “What do you want? C’mon Geralt, what do you really want? You tell me to go away and when I do, you come running back. Then when I say I’m leaving, you don’t allow me to.”

His words aren’t as cutting as he wants them to be, but it gets the point across.

Geralt stares, the Adam’s apple of his throat bobbing.

“I have to leave, Geralt. I have to go.”

Then his eyes go unfocused, staring past Jaskier, the line of his shoulders going straight as a rod.

Jaskier opens his mouth, but Geralt puts a hand up, tilting his head a bit.

The heat comes back roaring within Jaskier, “How dare—”

“Shh.” Geralt comes closer, his eyes now searching the line of trees surrounding them. Jaskier narrows his eyes, but then the anger in him dies out quickly when he hears it too. Crunching grass. Footsteps.

“Must have smelled your blood,” Geralt mutters.

Jaskier pushes Geralt, “Go.”

But Geralt doesn’t budge, his hand snapping out to grab onto Jaskier’s wrist, his full attention now on the bard. Not for the first time, Jaskier feels trapped under golden eyes, but instead of anger or exasperation greeting him, there’s pained desperation.

“Stay,” Geralt says, as if leaving was out of the question. Jaskier takes another step back, shaking his head, but he’s held in place by Geralt’s grip on his wrist. “No, Geralt, you don’t understand. I have to.”

“No, I understand, Jaskier. I do. But, please, fuck—please,” Jaskier flinches at the sound of a twig snapping. She’s getting closer.

Geralt’s tightened fingers bring him back, cornflowers on gold. A battered heart meeting desperation.

There’s nothing fake about it, only the most earnest desolation swimming in amber honey.

“Stay.”

Tightened fingers go lax, turning around Jaskier’s wrist so Geralt’s thumb can skim over his pumping pulse. The touch is gentle, delicate and scared.

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispers, not even twitching at the sound of louder footsteps, and tugs lightly on the bard, bringing the speechless man a little closer. They’re breathing the same air, almost nose-to-nose, and Geralt only has eyes for him.

“Don’t leave.”

Jaskier can feel something else in him spark, brighter than anything.

The sound of a shriek is what breaks Geralt out of his trance, but the haunted urgency doesn’t leave. He turns around and there she is—

Naked, blood-soaked, red-headed. The alp.

Geralt turns back to Jaskier and somehow, the anguish in his face is worse.

Jaskier can’t stop the rushed words escaping him, “I won’t.”

Geralt opens his mouth, but Jaskier places his hand over his lips, speaking faster now, “At the inn. I promise.”

Then Jaskier nudges him, nodding to the impatient vampire awaiting the Witcher. Geralt only spares the smallest of nods, and spins on his heel, brandishing his silver sword.

Jaskier doesn’t waste a moment, turning in the other direction and sprinting away from the action.

For a moment, Jaskier wants to run away. To leave.

——

The fight is rushed, over relatively quick. Maybe it’s because of the Black Blood coursing through his veins, or maybe it’s because of the relentless fear rushing through his body—piercing his heart and haunting his mind.

He cuts the head off of the alp and heads off to the tavern. He storms through the rotting wooden door—with the urgency of a man scared of losing the most important thing to him—and drops the head on the bar, staring at the barkeep with blackened eyes and blood-splattered armor.

The man is quick to toss the bag of coin his way, and when Geralt catches the bag, he turns away to rush out, not wasting time to speak a word. He steps towards the inn—the smallest of tension leaking out of his shoulders when he scents the pine and cedar and sea-salt at the threshold of the inn.

He skips steps when he climbs the stairs, following the awfully familiar scent like a dog following a treat. He fears the scent is old, because it’s the same room they got the previous night, and that Jaskier is long gone—run away like he said he would.

But he opens the door and the scent overwhelms him, drowning him in painful relief and dread.

Now that the danger has passed, he’ll have to face something worse than an alp.

Jaskier is sitting upon the bed, staring out the window with an air of melancholy that smells like cold soot—like a campfire that died overnight. The man turns to face him and it’s Geralt’s turn to feel trapped. He realizes all of the bard’s belongings are packed, right next to the man in question.

“I admit. I was thinking of—”

“Leaving,” Geralt finishes, his throat closing against his will. Jaskier nods, taking a soft breath that punches Geralt’s out of his chest.

Jaskier’s brows furrow, “The potion hasn’t run its course?”

He must be seeing the inky blackness of Geralt’s eyes, the deathly grey veins spanning over his sallow skin.

“Yes. I wanted to—” Geralt swallows hard, glancing to the floor, changing his words, “I didn’t want to be too slow.”

“So… you just ran over here?” Jaskier asks, slow, as if he’s scared of the implication. Geralt nods, jerky and awkward. He steps away from the doorway and glances at Jaskier, asking permission.

Jaskier looks between him and the door, something warring within his eyes, but something must have won because he ducks his head and quietly says, “Close it.”

Geralt inhales shakily and shuts the door behind him. He takes the first step towards the bed, knowing how horrible he must look in candlelight—bloody, pale, and spellbound by one thing and one thing only.

Jaskier looks away and that—

The small crack in Geralt splinters.

Geralt grits his teeth and steps away from the bed, settling down next to the fireplace, away from the bard. Everything feels precarious, like glass, like everything is balancing on one point and Geralt—God, he will do anything in his power to stop it from tipping over.

Jaskier sits there, waiting. Geralt knows he doesn’t have much time. There’s nothing right now that’s in his favour, except for the fact Jaskier is still here.

God, he’s still here.

Waiting, expecting something more—something that Geralt should have given him a long time ago.

Waiting.

Even after everything.

Geralt knows he’s so fucking selfish, asking him to stay when the bard should have left the moment he met the Witcher in Posada.

Asking him to stay when he almost got him killed, his throat torn to shreds.

Asking him to stay when he has the fucking gall to say the infuriating bard isn’t his best friend—his only friend.

Asking him to stay when he shut Jaskier out, letting an invitation to his open heart and a trip to the coast fall on deaf ears.

Asking him to stay when he said the only thing he knows will break the bard, blaming every shitshow he gets himself into on the poor man.

Begging him to stay when he has no fucking right to even look at those cornflower eyes.

Geralt is the first to break the deserved silence, “I’m sorry.”

Jaskier doesn’t even look up. “For what? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“For everything.” Geralt’s tongue thickens in his mouth. “Everything I let you go through. Everything I did to you.”

Jaskier is quick to shake his head, “Geralt, you didn’t do anything to me—”

“Yes. I did.” Geralt looks down. “When was the last time you wrote a song?”

It’s silent. It’s enough of an answer for the Witcher.

“Jaskier.” His tone is almost begging, hoping the man will meet his eyes. And he does, but the look in those eyes he loves with every fibre of his being is stricken, teary and hurt. “I know you’re hurting yourself the longer you’re with me. I can see it.”

Jaskier’s breath becomes shaky.

“Jaskier. You can leave—I’ll let you leave. I will.” Geralt is wishing to every djinn out there that he won’t.

He licks his lips and hopes his heart doesn’t pop out of his chest from how hard it’s thumping in his ribcage. “If you listen to what I’m going to say.”

Jaskier nods his head, patient and still looking the saddest Geralt has ever fucking seen him.

Geralt locks his gaze onto Jaskier, pouring every bit of his heart into his eyes.

“Jaskier—”

Geralt clenches his fists.

“I love you.”

A beat.

Nothing but the blood rushing in his ears, his teeth grinding as his heart spills out from his sleeve and onto the carpet in front of him.

The sound torn from Jaskier’s mouth is harsh, cutting and so fucking grating it twists something in Geralt.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, right?” Jaskier rocks backwards on the bed, a cold laugh bubbling in his throat. But when he faces Geralt again, his face is splotchy, eyes red and tears glistening in warm candlelight—looking heartbroken.

“You can’t—Geralt,” his name sounds raw and wobbly out of the bard’s mouth, “You can’t fucking say that. You can’t.”

Geralt’s jaw is hardened when he grits out, “But it’s true.”

“How long?” Jaskier snaps.

Geralt straightens up, meeting his gaze. “Cintra. The bathtub.”

Jaskier’s gaze cuts deep, splaying him open, and Geralt can’t keep the eye contact, looking away.

“Right after I said I didn’t…” Geralt furrows his brows, “need anyone.”

“I realized what I said was wrong. But I didn’t want—I couldn’t take it back.”

Jaskier looks even sadder, something dark swirling in those bright irises. They used to remind Geralt of the sea, full of life and depth. Now, all he sees is dull, glassy eyes.

“Geralt—”

“I know I can’t apologize for everything overnight,” he blurts, something in him pushing him forward to pull through, “I know I can’t. But I want to try. Fuck, I want to try. For as long as it takes.”

It’s like steel forging within him, giving him the strength to yank out the last bit of brutal honesty. His words are a rumble, like thunder in a storm, “Because I don’t want to travel the Continent without you by my side.”

Jaskier is silent, parsing Geralt with his beautiful eyes.

The longer the quiet stretches, the more his hope dwindles in his chest, fluttering down into nothing.

“Promise me.”

“Anything,” Geralt is quick to say. It pulls a twitch of the lips from the bard.

“Promise me you’ll try. You can hurt me with your words and I’ll bite back—I swear to all the Gods, Geralt—I’ll fucking bite back.” Jaskier narrows his eyes, breathing out slowly. “But I’ll forgive you because I know you’re trying.”

Jaskier digs his fingers into the blankets, “So you have to promise me you’ll try. Otherwise I’ll leave. I’ll leave and I’ll never go out of my way to look for your stupid face again.”

“I promise, Jask,” he mutters, the words so deafening over the quiet crackling of the fire behind him.

“I-I’ll never sing your stupid songs, I’ll never speak of you again, I—” his voice cracks, a sob echoes and Geralt snaps up, his heart breaking at the sight of Jaskier crying, “—I won’t have to pretend like every insult of yours doesn’t make me question if everything is real—”

“Jaskier,” Geralt snaps and oh Gods, Jaskier fucking whimpers and fuck—

Geralt can’t stop himself from jumping to his feet and rushing over to Jaskier, picking up the man and plopping him into his lap as he sits on the bed, despite the bard’s protests.

“I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Jaskier,” Geralt mumbles. The second his hand starts running through Jaskier’s brown hair, the bard quietens, his hands gripping onto Geralt’s armor as if it were an anchor.

They settle like that, Jaskier’s heart-breaking sobs muffled by Geralt’s blood-stained armor, his strong arms curled protectively around the bard.

But Jaskier wiggles out of his hold after a long moment, and braces his thighs around Geralt’s hips and—

He kisses Geralt.

The Witcher isn’t one to waste time, quick to reciprocate in movement and emotion.

It’s both everything and nothing that Geralt had imagined it to be. He never thought it would be salty with tears, or that they’re both so hurt and raw and open in a way Geralt never is. But it fills the gaping hole in his chest just like he thought it would, warm and tantalizing and soothing like a balm.

Everything isn’t going to be fixed overnight, they both know that. Everything is on the line for the two of them; the bard has his whole heart, soul and mind devoted to this; Geralt doesn’t want to lose the only thing that matters to him.

So, Geralt has to try. Wants to try. To fix every little tear and scar between the two of them. It may take days, months, years—Geralt doesn’t care. He’d spend his whole fucking life trying to make it up to the bard if he must.

But he has to start somewhere. And so he starts honesty in every action.

Geralt pulls away for a moment and grumbles on Jaskier’s lips, “In the forest, you said, ‘you don’t know why you’re doing this’.”

Jaskier nods, confused. Geralt’s arm tightens its hold on the other man’s waist, pulling them flushed, and the Witcher mumbles, “I’ll give you my answer. Because I want to touch you so much—”

Geralt’s nose trails the line of Jaskier’s throat, teeth grazing his collarbone, reveling in how the man in his arms shivers. “—it fucking burns.”

And he must say, it’s already looking up.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

please please a part 2 of that gamer!geralt au, them doing something like Q&A

Nonie, I hope you know what you signed up for. This got out of hand lmao. like 2.4k of Q&A kind of out of hand. 

Warnings: swearing, talk of drinking to excess, kinda spicy questions, lil kisses, idk how but I meant for this to be goofy and horny and it got kinda soft? what’s new?

____________

“Holy shit,” Geralt sat staring at his phone as he mindlessly stirred pasta.

“I swear to god, if you found a way to burn noodles-” Jaskier turned away from the blender to wave a wooden spoon covered in pesto puree.

Geralt shook his head and held his phone up to him, scrolling through the replies to a tweet as he did, going on for ages as Jaskier’s jaw slowly got closer to the floor.

“What are those for?!”

“I put up a poll for a boyfriend Q&A or a game review and not a single person has voted for the game review.” Geralt was still scrolling through questions people wanted answered as he watched Jaskier’s face go from shock to confusion to a smug grin. 

“They love me,” he sang, kicking his heel up as he turned back to the pasta sauce.

Geralt rolled his eyes and started screenshotting some of the less invasive questions, shaking his head and muttering, “Course they do.”

-

Geralt pressed record, waited a moment, and heaved a dramatic, long-suffering sigh, “You guys literally didn’t even give me a choice on this one,” he reached off frame and scruffed Jaskier, plopping him down on the couch with him. 

Jaskier didn’t stay where he was put for even a moment, using his momentum to bounce up onto Geralt’s lap with a shit-eating grin, “Oh? Are we rolling?”

Geralt dropped his forehead to Jaskier’s shoulder, stifling a laugh, “This is gonna be a long one.”

“Yeah, it is,” Jask agreed, then turned to the camera, stroking Geralt’s hair, “My fans want more!”

“OH-kay,” Geralt manhandled Jaskier to sit next to him which earned him a pout and a leg draped over his lap as he continued his intro, “I’ve got a bunch of questions from twitter. I didn’t even have to confirm which video we would do, you guys just went straight for the kill. I picked a few, Jask picked a few, neither of us knows which ones the other picked.” he turned to see Jaskier wiggle his eyebrows at the camera, “Why am I thinking you picked the raunchy ones?”

The brunet pretended to be offended before he smirked, “Only a few.”

Geralt rolled his eyes. “Of course,” he nudged Jask with his shoulder and opened up his phone to his screenshots, “Okay! First up is AdamSandlersBitch, nice name. They asked what Jaskier’s favorite gaming console and game to play is.” he turned to Jaksier with raised eyebrows.

His boyfriend cringed, “My.. my phone? I don’t know? I play a lot of Candy Crush while I listen to podcasts?”

Geralt smiled sweetly, “Wait what about Stardew Valley? I thought you started that?”

“I did!” Jaskier brightened up for a moment before he deflated again, “But I got confused and then the ADHD made me bake cookies.”

“Those were good cookies. I’ll play with you if you want?” Geralt’s normal ‘streamer dude’ persona melted away while he played with the rips on Jaskier’s jeans. 

Jask leaned forward and kissed his temple, “I’d love that.” 

Geralt blushed, even after years, Jaskier’s affection still caught him off guard. 

“Mkay! My turn!” Jaskier flashed his devilish grin and read, in his most obnoxious voice, “Dwn2Clwn said ‘do you two live together? Have you said ‘i love you’? And who tops?’”

Geralt’s mouth twisted into an upside-down U as he stared at Jaskier in muted surprise, “Honestly, not as bad as I expected.”

Jaskier looped his arm around Geralt’s, “I’m starting off easy.”

Geralt let his mock-disapproving gaze linger just a bit before he answered, “The living together is kind of new-like a few months. This one said ‘I love you’ on, what? The fourth date? Fifth?”

“Fourth.”

“No, it was the fifth, Eskel locked himself out on the fourth. Remember?”

“Shit you’re right,” Jaskier gave the camera a stern look, “In my defense, we’d been friends for a good four years before this. I wasn’t just confessing my love to a tinder date - though I have done that before.”

Geralt nodded, “That was very amusing.”

Jaskier tapped his nose, “Don’t avoid the last part, darling.”

Geralt huffed and stared down the camera, and, in the most matter of fact tone possible, said, “We switch. Compromise, folks. Can’t have one person doing all the work all the time.”

Jaskier nodded sagely, patting Geralt's chest, “We got a pow-”

Geralt clamped his hand over Jaskier’s mouth, 100% sure he was going to say ‘power bottom pillow princess’, “Nope. I’ll get demonetized for that.”

“But not who tops?” Jaskier asked through Geralt’s fingers.

He just shrugged, “I don’t make the rules.”

Jaskier tapped his phone and raised his eyebrows, telling him to move to the next question. 

“Mis- Mischanication? Shit I hope I said that right, Mischanication asked, ‘would you ever get a pet together?’ We did! Her name is Roach and she’s a little shit! I told Jaskier not to feed her, but he did, now we have the snuggliest, crankiest cat I’ve ever met!” 

Jaskier had gotten up to pluck Roach from her perch on the windowsill when Geralt had read the question and plopped down with her as Geralt finished his proud speech, “She’s not a little shit! She’s just delicate! Isn’t that right, darling?”

Geralt scratched under her chin and cooed, “You are a nasty little dragon baby, aren't you?! Just a little garbage child! Yes, you are. We love the tiny demon beast.”

“Geralt!”

He snickered and kissed Jaskier’s hair, “Next question, love.”

Jaskier grumbled something about positive reinforcement as Roach scampered back to her cat tree and he unlocked his phone for his next tweet, “This darling wants to remain anonymous,” Geralt gave him some serious side-eye at that, “they said ‘I think I’m in love with the flower twink, where can I find one of my own?’”

Geralt frowned at the camera and pulled Jaskier onto his lap, holding him close and snuggling into his chest, almost growling, “Hands off.”

Jaskier giggled, brushing Geralt’s hair out of his face as he talked to the camera, “You heard the man. Unfortunately, I was not mass-produced and I’ve been spoken for.”

Geralt looked up at him with what could only be called suspicious puppy eyes, “You picked that one just to sit in my lap didn’t you?”

“Yes. And because I want to change my socials to ‘flower twink’.” 

“Do it,” Geralt kept Jaskier on his lap as he swiped to his next question, “Eggsfuckingsuck - heh, my dad hates eggs- Eggsfuckingsuck says, ‘what is the most embarrassing thing you’ve caught each other doing/saying?’ Oh boy, do I have a story for you!”

"Oh I couldn't say the thing but you can tell this story!?" 

"...you have a point... Check my insta stories. I'll put it there after I post this." 

Jaskier nodded, ever so pleased, and turned to the camera, "Our dear Yennefer of sorceryglammour once beat Geralt at trivia night when the theme was 'video games'." 

“We did shots before we went to the bar and she goaded me and Lambert into a chugging competition before the round started. I’m telling you, she planned this. Yen is ruthless.” Geralt desperately tried to justify his defeat but Jaskier was having none of it. 

“She’s mostly harmless, plus I have video evidence from that night. You weren’t that far gone.”

“Pull it up! Let’s settle it.”

Jaskier patted Geralt’s head like one would a toddler, “I’d have to get my old laptop out. Later, darling.”

Geralt had a smug look on his face, “That means he doesn’t have it anymore.”

“Next question!” Jaskier squeaked, not at all changing the subject. 

Geralt shrugged, “If you admit I won that one.”

“It’s not a competition!” Jaskier laughed, looking down at him with that stupidly smitten look on his face.

“Hmmm…” Geralt tilted his chin up defiantly, “if you say so.”

Jaskier kissed him, lingering a little bit more than could be considered chaste, “I do.” 

Geralt looked up at him, batting his eyelashes, “Fine then, next question.”

Jaskier handed him his phone and he read it off leaning his head on Jaskier’s shoulder, “CountryBumpkin42 asked if we play any instruments. I play the recorder very poorly, but Jask plays everything.”

“Not everything, but yes, I could cover a Trans Siberian Orchestra song if I had a pedalboard with enough loop settings.” Jaskier preened. 

“And more,” Geralt added, counting on his fingers as he spoke, “In this house alone he has two pianos, three different types of guitars, a drumset, a violin and fiddle, a flute and piccilo, an oboe, a mandolin, a lute, bongos, saxophone, clarinet, tambourine, trumpet, and xylophone. Did I get them all?”

Jaskier glanced from side to side with a guilty look, “Ah… no, I bought a bass sax that showed up last night.”

“Oh, did Thursday at 3 decide they wanted to switch after all?”

“Yeah! She got the third chair as a freshman on a loaner instrument! I’m very proud!”

Geralt seemed to remember they were recording and turned back to the camera, “J teaches music at the university and does private lessons.” 

“It’s how I can afford such a pretty trophy boyfriend,” Jaskier teased, ruffling Geralt’s hair and earning a little chuckle.

“Mkay, what do you have next?”

Jaskier smoothed Gearalt’s hair back down as he read the next question, “3R4108F6!J asks if we have any cute nicknames for each other.”

Geralt’s eyebrows nearly flew past his hairline, “J has a new one for me almost every day.”

“Its true,” Jaskier nodded, “I am a slut for cute nicknames. This morning was Ger Bear, one of my faves. I called him Thumbs for a bit, I lovingly call him Dumb Fuck rather often.”

“And he is Dip Shit, it’s balanced. I usually just shorten names? Jask or J is usually it, right?” Geralt asked, shifting so Jaskier was sitting on the couch between his legs and they were both turned out toward the camera but very much still cuddling. 

“And when I’m being childish I get Alfie. But Geralt is much more deliberate and specific with his nicknames. It’s a bit of a friendship level up when he uses nicknames.”

Geralt frowned at him, “I do that?”

Jaskier giggled, “You never noticed?”

He tilted his head, giving Jaskier a quizzical look, “Not at all.”

Jaskier cupped Geralt’s cheek, “You’re so cute.”

Geralt blushed again, leaning into the touch just a tad, “Who’s turn is it?”

“Yours,” Jaskier hummed, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. 

“Okay,” Geralt blushed even more, “I had this one as an alternate, but uh, Yen asked what we’d name our first kid?” 

Jaskier leaned into Geralt’s shoulder and hummed as he thought for a moment, “I always like Blake or Spencer, but I seem to remember you saying something about old world traditional names?”

Geralt nodded, absentmindedly running his fingers up and down Jaskier’s arm, “My grandma was hoping each of us boys would be a girl and wanted mum to name us Cirilla every time. I quite like it, but I’m rather open as long as I don’t know someone with the name. I really like Eric?” 

“Oo, I like Eric.”

“But you like the neutral names.”

“I do, but it’s your hypothetical kiddo too.”

Geralt gave him a little squeeze, “There’s time for that later. What’s your next one?”

Jaskier snorted when he looked at his phone, “What are your guys’ love languages?”

Geralt just looked down at Jask, completely entangled in his arms, then up to the camera, “I’m gonna hazard a guess at physical touch.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s a safe bet,” Jaskier giggled, “I haven’t taken the quiz in years, but I was that and gifts.”

“Oh, yeah. Physical touch and words of affirmation. I got like a 0 on acts of service and gifts, but I really like giving gifts.” 

“Mhm, yes you do,” Jaksier wiggled his eyebrows, then turned to the camera, “I also had no idea you could have different giving and receiving languages till I met this one.”

Geralt nodded then turned to him with a slight frown, “you know I really thought your questions were going to be more graphic.”

“Oh, honey I saved the best for last,” Jaskier winked. 

“Fuck me,” Geralt grumbled before reading off his last question, “Cali852 asked what we did for Pride.”

Jaskier’s eyes lit up, “Oh Pride was fun. We watched the parade, of course, then Yen did our makeup and… and where did we go after that?”

Geralt looked like he’d been waiting for this, “We went to a club, where you ordered three kamakazis, knocked them all back, danced for twenty minutes, then I took you home.”

“N-no… we went to the beach, didn’t we?”

“That was the year before. We were going to go to the drag show at our regular bar too, but someone had just finished grading finals and went a little too hard.” 

Jaskier grinned, “Speaking of finals, time for the last question. I had a different one in mind but if the thing I cant say from earlier would get this demonetized then that defintitelyi would. So we’re going with ‘what is the wackest placy y’all banged?’”

Geralt snorted, “Shit who knows anymore?”

“Well there was the boat?”

“Or the train?”

“Nah, too standard. What about the cabin?”

“Heh, no I think your o-”

“I don’t have tenure darling,” It was Jaskier’s turn to slap his hands over Geralt’s mouth, “The answer is a dilapidated structure my parents still try to call a cabin out in the foothills.”

Geralt laughed and pulled his hand away, “Okay, that can be the answer.”

“Is that it? Now we just say bye?” Jaskier looked between Geralt and the camera.

Geralt shrugged, “Yeah. You wanna say the thing?”

Jaskier wiggled with a little pride and excitement, “Don’t forget to like and subscribe! Bye Fuckers!”

They both waved for a couple seconds before Geralt got up and turned the camera off. He popped out the memory card and was going to immediately start loading it onto his computer but Jask hooked his finger through a belt loop as he walked past and tugged him back down. 

“I’m tired. Snuggle with me.” 

Geralt hummed, “We just snuggled that whole time.”

Jaskier heaved a dramatic sigh, “I know and this is exhausting. I don’t know how you talk to a camera all day.”

Geralt stretched to set the chip on top of his laptop before collapsing back on top of Jaskier who had stretched the length of the couch, “Are you making fun of me?” he teased. 

Jaskier cupped his face between his hands and pulled him up for a deep kiss, “Oh never.” 

[writinglizards]

Fanfic Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @drowningbydegrees​!!!

How many works do you have on Ao3?

64, not counting the works I’ve anoned, for a variety of reasons.

What’s your total Ao3 word count?

518k.

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Between the Fights (I Still Need You)

This was my first fic in the witcher fandom??? And still the most popular??? We all really love our post mountain angst, don’t we?

Tell Me Honestly--How Could I Love Somebody Else?

AKA the “Jask flirts with Geralt when he’s drunk” fic. I desperately want to do a redux on this trope, it’s so much fun to write.

5 Time Geralt Deliberately Botched a Hunt so Jaskier Would Touch Him (and 1 Time He Didn’t Have To)

God. This is probably one of my favorites, honestly. Only time I’ve really done a proper 5+1.

Sorry (When You Leave Me)

AKA the mpreg fic. I’m still baffled why yall like this one so much??? It was 100% written in a fit because I’d just finished an mpreg fic that was...uh...not...great...and was overcome with “I could do that better” so I did. And I haven’t been able to stop since, ugh.

All We Need (One Last Chance)

Corvo fic, my beloved!!! I still have another idea for an adjacent fic, I’ve just gotta...find the time. Corvo vibes and oranges, anyone?

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I used to. Now I generally don’t? There are so many of you and only one of me, unfortunately. If I responded to everyone it’s all I’d ever do lmao.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

Genuinely, I have no idea. Most of what I write is happy ending because I like the catharsis of happy endings. Personally I’d probably say All We Need (One Last Chance) is the happiest, though. They’re both retired and in love!!! What more could you want?

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

Oh, this feels like an even split between The Last Sense to Go and There isn’t Actually. On the one hand, main character death. On the other hand, extremely painful one sided relationship in which the other party is completely oblivious to the other’s feelings.

Do you write crossovers?

Not??? Exactly??? I think the closest is the daemon fic I did. I like taking traits from other genres and throwing them in, but not full on crossovers.

have you ever received hate on a fic?

I’ve never gotten blatant hate on Ao3, but I did when I was on fanfiction dot net as a teen just getting started, yes.

Do you write smut? if so, what kind?

Yes, and just about everything. Yall know this.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yep! I did a few train fics with friends a while ago and I’ve got a co-fic in the works with another friend we haven’t touched in awhile, but will eventually be done...some day...

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

I am capable of one focus at a time, so right now? Geralt/Jaskier.

What’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

RIP to I Said Some Things I Wish I Hadn’t (I Wish That We Could Talk About It). Maybe someday, but no time soon, that’s for sure.

What are your writing strengths?

Lengthy, long winded nonsense.

What are your writing weaknesses?

Short and concise nonsense.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I am not bilingual enough for that, but it is VERY cool!! I love when others do it.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Naurto, as a wee baby middle schooler.

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

Probably Take Everything from Me (Take Time). I wrote it for Alex for her birthday but it was genuinely one of the most delightful stories to tell. I had a great time writing it.

Tagging:

@greyduckgreygoose @contemplativepancakes @witcher-and-his-bard @julek

No pressure, only if you want to! <3

[jaskierek]

Part 2 of Destiny or Bad Luck? aka my geraskier post-breakup meeting fic

part 1

this one’s a bit long lmao

some people asked to be tagged so @juhavs @random-nerd-3 - some others asked for a part two but didnt ask to be tagged so idk

there will be a part 3...i think

---

Geralt hated this. If the silence left in Jaskier’s absence before was stifling, this was suffocating. The bard had barely said a word since they’d left the tavern the next morning, simply sitting on his horse tensely and riding beside Geralt and Roach. It was unsettling. It was setting the Witcher’s instincts on edge.

Geralt hadn’t said a word either, though that was not as unusual. He simply didn’t know what to say. How does one begin a conversation? Did he even want one? He wanted…he wanted…he didn’t know what he wanted, but he knew it wasn’t this, wasn’t this uncomfortable silence between them. It was as if someone had thrust a veil between them, keeping them apart. Geralt itched to tear it down, itched to find a relief from the quiet.

That’s what he wanted, he’d decided, he wanted to hear Jaskier’s voice. He wanted to hear the bard’s rich timbre in song, wanted to hear the lilt of his words as he rambled about nothing, he wanted…he wanted. It was an emotion he wasn’t entirely sure how to address.

He also didn’t know what the bard wanted. Geralt knew he was still angry with him so why did he come? Why did he agree to join him? What did he want?

And so, Geralt resigned himself to glancing at the bard every so often. Jaskier seemed to be making an effort not to look at the Witcher, allowing Geralt’s yellow eyes to trace over the curve of his jaw, his nose, to observe how the sunlight lit up the planes of his face. He didn’t know when he’d come to the realisation that he could sit and watch the bard for hours. He just knew that Jaskier was here and he was warm and he was safe, and that almost made the fact that his body had been drawn tight ever since he’d seen Geralt bearable.

The Witcher finally broke the silence once the sun had begun to descend in the sky, casting the world in a warm glow. He suggested they make camp for the night, earning a curt nod from the bard.

—

Geralt was setting up the fire, nursing the flames, while Jaskier sat opposite him, strumming absently on his lute.

He still hadn’t forgiven the Witcher, not entirely. He had built a wall around his heart to keep it safe but Geralt’s small, broken “please” had pulled out one of the bricks. He missed him, he’d said that, the same man who had refused to even acknowledge their friendship had said he’d missed him, had said he needed him. It filled him with a certain warm glow.

But he couldn’t go back to how they were before - wouldn’t. If he were to have any kind of relationship with the Witcher he would need some sort of affirmation of their companionship from the ever-stoic man.

He watched Geralt’s deft hands work the fire into something living. The flames lit up his stupidly handsome face. Gods, he hated that perfectly square jaw and he definitely hated his longing to run his lips along it and down his neck, onto the dip of his collarbone and the hard muscle of his chest.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

The memory snapped him back into reality, his fingers landing hard on the strings with a jarring clang. Golden eyes snapped to his face. Jaskier didn’t know the extent to which Witchers could smell emotion but he knew Geralt sensed this.

“I’m fine.” He croaked, his voice not used to going so long without speaking. Geralt frowned, clearly not believing him. Thankfully he didn’t push. They sat in silence once more, Jaskier gazing at the fire, avoiding Geralt’s molten gaze.

“Play something.” The bard’s eyes found the Witcher’s once more, finding nothing but sincerity.

“What?”

“Play something.” He insisted, gesturing towards his lute. It was very Geralt of him, to ask Jaskier to do something without actually asking. The bard didn’t mind it.

“Play what?”

“Anything.”

Jaskier blinked. Right then.

How apt it would be to play a song of heartbreak and love, the gods knew how many he had written and learnt over the past year. But gazing into Geralt’s flame-lit amber eyes, he found he didn’t want to. Instead, he decided to play something else, something his caretaker used to sing to him.

“May you never lay your head down,

Without a hand to hold,

May you never make your bed out in the cold”

The slow but pleasant tune drifted out from under his fingertips, from out of his lips, filling the space between them. The melody was warm, comforting. It was a reprieve from the tension that had lain between them since they left.

“I know this one.” Geralt uttered after a while.

He remembered.

He remembered a song Jaskier had sung.

How many did he remember?

What else did he remember about the bard?

“You were sung this as a child.” He continued, almost to himself. Jaskier couldn’t help but smile, watching the Witcher’s own face brighten at the sight.

“Oh please won't you, please,

Won't you bear it in mind,

Love is a lesson to learn in our time,

And please won't you, please,

Won't you bear it in mind for me.”

Jaskier’s voice was shaky but his voice and his fingers continued on and he was smiling and even Geralt was smiling and he was looking at him and he was looking at him like he was the only goddamn thing in this world that he wanted to look at, the only person he wanted to listen to.

Jaskier felt something in his chest unravel as he watched the Witcher’s silver hair-framed face glow.

Glow at him.

Glow because of him.

He felt something in his chest - he felt the wall, the wall built around his heart crumble a little more.

“I like it.” Geralt said once Jaskier had finished. It was a simple sentence but the bard knew the Witcher, he knew he didn’t often speak his mind, or often speak at all.

“So you admit, I am a talented singer.”

“I didn’t say that, bard.”

Jaskier grinned. He felt it coming back, he remembered what it was like being in Geralt’s company, talking to him, bickering with him.

“Geralt, you hulking pillock, acknowledge my musical talent right now or I’ll kick you.” He had once said, the Witcher had simply snorted and asked,

“What talent?”

As promised, the bard had kicked him in the shins. Honestly, it had probably hurt Jaskier more than it did Geralt, but it had been worth it to see the small smile on Geralt’s face as Jaskier hopped around melodramatically, cradling his foot.

Geralt was smiling now. It was something soft and warm, something Jaskier could bask in.

But with a frown, it slipped, falling off the Witcher’s face.

Jaskier let his own drop too at the sight.

The silence returned.

“I’m sorry, Jaskier.” Came a quiet confession.

“I know, Geralt.” He did know, he did. As much as his reason warned him against it, he had trusted Geralt’s apology.

“But you do not forgive me.”

“I do not know. I do not know if I forgive you.”

He wanted to. He wanted to forgive him and simply enjoy his company without the tightness in his chest. Confusion reigned in him at the moment, not knowing whether he wanted to smile or cry in Geralt’s presence.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

“What do I say, Jaskier?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

The fire rose between them.

“What do you want to say?” Jaskier asked.

“I…” began the Witcher, glancing down in frustration, “I want to…to confess to you without having the be the one to say it, I want you to simply know.” He looked at the bard imploringly.

“That’s not how it works, Geralt.”

The flames stuttered.

“I’ll go collect more firewood.”

Geralt turned.

Jaskier closed his eyes.

—

The next night they stayed at an inn, paying for two rooms despite not having much coin. Everything in Geralt screamed not to let the bard stray too far from him but he needed space, Geralt knew that.

Despite their conversation the night before, the air between them seemed lighter as they travelled, Jaskier occasionally humming a tune that Geralt found vaguely familiar. Now the bard sat waiting for him in a booth, grinning eagerly at the meal the Witcher was bringing over.

“Oh thank Metlitele.” He groaned as Geralt slid the plate over to him. He watched the bard shovel food unceremoniously into his mouth. He shook his head in amusement. Jaskier glanced up at him, spoon lifted halfway to his mouth. “What?” He asked. The corner of Geralt’s lips tipped upwards.

He gave a simple “hm” in response.

“Excuse you, all I’ve eaten for two days is stale bread and a particularly thin rabbit. I intend to savour this, thank you.” Jaskier stated dryly. Geralt grunted again, turning his attention to his own meal. His smile refused to go away so he sat there, grinning like an idiot simply because the bard no longer looked as tense, as uncomfortable around him. He was hopeless.

“Do you play?” Came a gruff question from one of the men at another table once they had finished their meal.

“Indeed I do, good sir.” Jaskier replied, flashing him a smile and catching the coin tossed to him as the man told him to play something fun. “Well, duty calls.” He said to the Witcher, grabbing his lute and beginning to play a jaunty tune.

His playing was nothing like the night before. Where yesterday his voice had been all gentle and honeyed, it was now rowdy and sonorous. Geralt enjoyed watching Jaskier sing his indecent songs to a crowd of laughing people, laughter in the bard’s own voice too. He enjoyed watching it, yet a warm feeling settled in his stomach at the thought of the soft song the night before, as if it were a performance meant solely for the Witcher.

Geralt stayed and watched Jaskier perform all of his songs, telling himself it was simply to ensure that he wouldn’t get himself into trouble. He didn’t dwell too much on the true reason, not until Jaskier fell back into his seat, grinning at Geralt unabashedly. His hair was plastered to his brow with sweat and he was panting slightly, but he was beaming like he always was after a good show. Geralt found himself wanting to brush the hair out of his face, to gaze unapologetically into those cornflower eyes.

“That was a show and a half, wasn’t it?” Jaskier breathed, it seemed as if he was waiting for Geralt to respond but all the Witcher could do was grunt in confirmation. Thankfully, Jaskier knew the meanings behind Geralt’s grunts and he grinned at the acknowledgement. Geralt had to pause for a moment, the realisation of just how well Jaskier knew him settling in. Geralt had known the bard for much longer than most, he knew all of his mannerisms, what clues to spot to know just how tired the bard was and how much longer he could continue on for. He knew what Jaskier looked like naked and while he appreciated the sparse glances, he had always looked away, too afraid of what he’d feel if he looked too long.

And Jaskier knew him just as well, which terrified the Witcher. He knew his body, his scars, he knew his fears, despite Geralt never having told him and despite his constant chatter, he knew when Geralt absolutely needed silence. His blue eyes had managed to pierce through the Witcher time and time again.

“Jaskier, I…“

Those eyes were looking at him now, expectantly.

“You what, Geralt?”

“I…” A beat. “I-“ A pause. And then,

“I’m going to bed.”

Fuck. Shit.

Jaskier’s joyful demeanour dimmed.

“Right, yeah, ok. I’ll go too, then.”

Fuck. Shit.

—

Despite his foul mood, Geralt had managed to fall into a light sleep. He had hated watching Jaskier walk away from him to his own room. It was only one door down but the Witcher couldn’t help but feel like the bard had taken a piece of him. Now he’ll have to lay there until morning, incomplete, until the bard brought back the piece of him that he had taken…or more accurately, the piece that Geralt had willingly given him.

So, yes, despite his foul mood, Geralt was asleep - barely - but asleep.

That is, until he flung himself bolt upright in bed, nostrils filled with a stench he absolutely loathed.

Fear.

Not just anyone’s fear.

Jaskier’s fear.

Before his sleep-hazy mind could catch up, he was bursting through Jaskier’s door, Witcher eyes scanning the room and all its dark corners for danger. His adrenaline had taken over, his body itching to move, to fight, to protect.

“Geralt.” Came a small voice. Geralt’s eyes snapped to the bard sitting in his bed, an involuntary growl escaping the Witcher. It was in these moments that Geralt came to fear himself, to fear the animal that had taken over the man, but in the current moment he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when the room was absolutely soaked in Jaskier’s own fear. “Geralt.” He said again, almost pleading. Geralt couldn’t stop himself from moving at the sound.

“Are you hurt?” Geralt asked, his voice coming out more gravelly than he expected. Jaskier shook his head, silver-lined eyes wide as Geralt swiped his thumb across his cheek, wiping away the tear tracks. He felt the worry slip away slightly. “Nightmare?” Jaskier nodded, hand coming up to grasp the Witcher’s wrist tightly. The bard shut his eyes tightly and leaned further into Geralt’s hand, taking a shaky breath.

“Don’t leave.” He whispered. Even if he had wanted to, Geralt couldn’t say no. He slipped under the covers of Jaskier’s bed, pulling him close to his chest. He felt Jaskier grasp onto his shirt and bury his face into the Witcher’s neck. Geralt held him tightly, trying to warm the shaking bard. He swallowed down the lingering worry and adrenaline as Jaskier slowly relaxed, the tension leaving his tightly wound body as he exhaled into Geralt’s skin.

The Witcher’s chest ached. It ached in that entirely good and satisfying way. His nose was in Jaskier’s hair and he could smell the walnut and cedar of his soap that he saved especially for his hair, the smell of pine after spending a day trekking through the forest. He no longer smelt the fear that had clogged his nose and misted his mind. Jaskier was warm and he was safe and he was close.

The ache in his chest throbbed.

His arms tightened around the bard.

The bard that he…that he…

“I love you.”

“What?”

[irresistiibles]

alright this made me realize that i have ! a lot of characters but under the cut are little blurbs about everyone for the event for plotting! i mentioned a few that could be open to dates though honestly there are definitely a few others if that’s something people are interested in (i kinda assume either platonic or romantic dates would be on the casual side so do not feel like it would be throwing yourself into a ship). anyway! toss this a like and i will hit you up for plotting i’m happy to work stuff out either here or on discord!

asami sato - likes the idea of romance but is probably going to be angling more for networking. does well in a crowd and will be out drinking and socializing but be on guard about image and stuff. could totally take a date as a platonic sort of thing and she would buy them a nice outfit for it

ben hargreeves - a romantic at heart but awkward as hell. will wear something nice but be hiding 

blue sargent - not really about this sort of thing and definitely under-dressed. almost definitely in boots.

ciel phantomhive - absolutely hates this sort of stuff and things valentine’s day is kinda gross. will be there and look nice but will be trying to avoid engaging with people

dominique weasley - thinks this is a little ridiculous but probably fun so is optimistic. probably just socializing and maybe taking pictures and dancing. could have a fun platonic or romantic date

elsa of arendelle - another one who thinks the idea is sweet but is awkward as hell. vaguely concerned she’s going to freeze the potomac and will be staying away from the deck. could try dancing, maybe, though someone else would have to ask lmao

entrapta - thrilled to be there entirely for the fact that these types of parties tend to have tiny appetizers. does not have a romantic bone in her body but can dance. may be trying to check out the engine of the ship though

glinda - very excited and very dressed up. loves romance loves to dance, def out here to have a good time. definitely dragged elphaba.

haruhi fujioka - this all feels pretty rich people to them and they like romance but not big dramatic gestures. will look nice and put together and will just be enjoying food and drinks

howl jenkins pendragon - a dramatic flirt who will be dragging as many people out to dance as possible. is not picky on gender so good luck. may be wearing a cape 

ji eun tak - a cutie who loves romance and is excited for the chance to go to something like this. may be a little tipsy and dancing. could go for a chill platonic or romantic date. 

jaskier - another dramatic bi. will be drunk and dancing and be totally annoying about it. could potentially take a date though if he doesn’t he will absolutely bother people to dance and will have a hell of a pout if anyone says no. eventually will get drunk enough to start singing

karolina dean - prefers quiet romantic gestures but thinks this is cute enough. avoiding alcohol because she does not want to be drunk on a boat but still enjoying herself

kyoshi - awkward seven foot tall woman thinks this idea is nice but doesn’t really know what to do with it all. will probably be out on the deck most of the time since she doesn’t love crowds. friendly but weird in this sort of setting lavender brown - definitely a romantic and definitely into this whole thing. spent more time planning a dress than she’d ever admit and is excited to be there even if she isn’t thrilled going to this sort of thing sober

lily evans - not quite her vibe but figured she could go as like a break. wouldn’t be there for romance but very friendly and wouldn’t mind dancing with some people to chill

ling yao - doesn’t really get the point of this sort of thing but will go for the food and to try and make some connections. may be sneaking around even if there’s nothing to find he just wants to be sure

link - i know i have said certain characters are awkward but link takes the cake. this is a man who comfortably runs around in his underwear and prefers not to speak. he is most likely on the deck debating whether or not he could jump off and swim for it. under-dressed but still feels over-dressed

micihru kaioh - very comfortable in this environment. can dress well, dance, socialize, whatever needed. probably on guard because she still thinks she’s in washington for her mission though she’ll praise the romance and all that

pansy parkinson - will go anywhere for free alcohol but also thinks this sort of romantic stuff is kinda gross. will be probably be in a corner drinking

rita skeeter - excited to be here for the potential drama of it all. sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong and taking pictures and stuff. could take a date but would probably abandon them lol

sam giddings - thinks this is all a little overboard but kinda cute and she’s out doing her best to be optimistic. could go with a romantic or platonic date. will dance but probably uncomfortable with a real drunk crowd

tessa gray - out of her element but doing her best. got dragged by clary and definitely finds this all odd. maybe snuck a book in. does like the view on the deck if nothing else. 

thanatos - awkward. again. dressed well and that’s about it. this is a man who’s so bad at talking to people. came cause he got the invitation and felt obligated but is definitely regretting it. not against romance but finds this too much

toph beifong - literally in hell. this is a girl who uses earthbending to find her surroundings and cannot swim. she is now completely blind and stranded and having the worst time of her life. despite hating the water she’s probably sitting on the deck because she can get a little bit out of smell and sounds and prefers that to being trapped where everyone is dancing. frankly probably a little freaked out but hiding it

victor nikiforov - romantic but probably missing yuuri. mostly taking pictures and having fun and being loud. he’s a good dancer but there’s no saying if he’ll actually do it since big crowd things like this tire him out these days

zhongli - grandpa here doesn’t get the point of all of this but is going anyway. dressed very nice. probably telling everyone the history of boats over drinks and will not shut up while also babysitting lumine

[thewildmother]

Fandom ask: the Witcher!

you’re all gonna hate me after this. it was nice knowing you ✌️

the first character i ever fell in love with: .... geralt. if anyone knows anything about me they know that he checks almost all my boxes (older dude, dilf, knows how to fight super well, has a deep ass voice, etc etc) a character that i used to love/like, but now do not: time to out myself on main with this one but uhh,,, yennefer. i used to like her but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ too many things that i’m not a fan of added up and i can’t talk myself into a v positive view anymore a ship that i used to love/like, but now do not: geralt/yen my ultimate favorite character™: i mean probably geralt, i’m v simple. after him though i really did enjoy regis from the tw3 dlc!! he was a really interesting character prettiest character: for tw3 i’d say triss bc i’m simple, she’s really cute. for the show i cannot decide between tissaia, triss and yen they’re all Very pretty my most hated character: closest to hate would be yennefer lmao my OTP: i don’t think i have one?? i’m not super invested in any ships with the witcher tbh. closest would be jaskier/geralt i suppose, because i do enjoy Some content for them my NOTP: back at it again with the geralt/yen  favorite episode: off the top of my head the dragon one sticks out! it had a lot of really good scenes that explored dynamics and character growth, i’m into it. and listen i may not be on their team but the moment of geralt using aard and yen enhancing it during a smooch?? v sexy saddest death: calantha got me good in the show because of the family moment 😔 favorite season:  least favorite season: character that everyone else in the fandom loves, but i hate: not to be a broken record but yennefer my ‘you’re piece of trash, but you’re still a fave’ fave: calanthe was Not Great but she was a frigging joy to watch on screen!! it was highkey refreshing to see a woman character portrayed like that when you usually expect the Dainty Queen or the queen who keeps her opinions quiet in favor of pleasing everyone. also her strutting onto the scene with that armor and blood still splattered about?? top tier content my ‘beautiful cinnamon roll who deserves better than this’ fave: dara in the show!! mayhaps priscilla in tw3?? i don’t remember the game in its entirety at the moment but she didn’t deserve to be hurt like that  my ‘this ship is wrong, nasty, and makes me want to cleanse my soul, but i still love it’ ship: like i said, i don’t really have strong opinions on ships here because i don’t engage much with the fandom?? so oop my ‘they’re kind of cute, and i lowkey ship them, but i’m not too invested’ ship: geralt/triss bc of the cute scenes during that one party quest in tw3, yen/that-one-mage-dude in the show until it went downhill, probably any other ship i’m vaguely interested in within the fandom lmao