#my witcher fanfiction

[between-thepages]

Body and Soul

Fandom: The Witcher Series

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Geralt/Yennefer

Summary: After spending an evening appreciating Yen in her beautiful ballgown, Geralt spends the night worshipping her.

I originally wanted to post this for Yenralt Appreciation Week, but I'm a mess and missed the event, so now it only makes it into the Cooking with the Hanza August theme, Fashion.

[crispyliza]

I've got you all figured out fanartists

[hannibard]

Y'know those post s2 fics where Jaskier hides the fact that he was tortured from Geralt bc the witcher has enough on his plate and he doesn't want to be a burden?

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 12

Geralt has a thing for biting. Jaskier has a thing for not looking like a mauling victim the day he performs at a very prestigious court. Geralt agrees he'll hold off on the biting for a few nights, so Jaskier is "presentable." But now he looks unclaimed. He looks like he has nobody that loves him and watches over him. Nobody that can bite him in the heat of passion. Geralt sucks it up and decides that he'll just have to come along to make sure nobody gets any ideas about doing anything to his bard. And so what if he spends most of the night staring longingly at Jaskier's neck like some kind of starved vampire? Who says you get to judge? *grumpy witcher noises*

[tielmamon]

He meets Radovid in the shed and decides fuck it and sleeps together. He turns to him and promises him all his riches and fineries, all the things Jaskier dreamed of when he first started out as a bard. He re-offers the court bard position from before and Jaskier considers but still says he'll think about it.

Jump to Jaskier alone with Geralt infront of a campfire. He mentions Radovid's offer and his thoughts on taking it. How it might help them in the future, more connections, more people they can trust, more places to feel safe at with the prince of Redania to back them up. He waits for a reaction but Geralt just stares at him with this knowing look.

"But you'd hate it there, Jask." For some reason, this irks Jaskier.

"How would you know? I'm a lavish man Geralt, you know that. I love money and silks and fame. This could be my chance." Geralt simple looks at him, reading him like an open book.

"You're a songbird. You're not supposed to be caged." He watches Geralt polish his swords, and if there's a faint redness in his cheeks, he doesn't comment on it. Instead, he sighs because of course Geralt sees right through him. He knew he'd hate it the moment Radovid offered.

"And I suppose I'm free here then? In your little circle?" He teases, feeling much lighter than when the conversation started. The feeling immediately disappears once he feels a hand threading their fingers with his own. Geralt brings their hands closer to him, looking at them while Jaskier stays still with his heartbeat racing.

"I hope so. You're...I haven't told you and I should, because you deserve to hear it."

"Hear what?"

"You're part of this family. You-...You were the first person...." The words fumble and trip over one another on his tongue but the hand clasping Geralt's squeezes and a wave of reassurance washes over him. Like it always does when Jaskier is around. He takes a breath and looks at him, praying to all the gods that Jaskier sees him. Like he always does.

"You're my family, Jask. I can't- I don't think I can do this without you." He whispers quietly but Jaskier hears him loud and clear.

Please don't leave.

"A wolf, a lion cub, a raven and a songbird. Quite a family you've found for yourself, darling." Geralt smiles in relief, and kisses his knuckles.

Stay with us. With me.

"Wouldn't trade it for the world."

[wren-of-the-woods]

I've been seeing a lot of posts lately talking about how no one comments/reblogs/replies/etc anymore, and, as someone who comments regularly on a lot of fanworks, it sometimes makes me wonder if my efforts are worth anything. Then I remember how much happiness I get from comments on my own work/posts and how much the community of fandom can matter, and I remember the power that can be found in spreading joy instead of disappointment.

So -- to everyone who comments on fanfiction: thank you. You make the writing process worthwhile and so very rewarding. You make people happy every day.

To all the people who reblog art and gifsets and meta and anything else with enthusiastic tags: thank you. You make people smile and promote interesting conversations and make being on Tumblr so much more fun.

To anyone who sends people asks about their works, whether it's unprompted or part of an ask game: thank you. You give people reasons to talk about things they love and feel like a part of a community.

To the people who makes reclists: thank you. You give us more to read while showing the author how much their work is loved and appreciated, benefitting so many people.

To everyone who organizes events and groups and blogs and dedicated to fandom: thank you. You build community and love and excitement so effectively and it's wonderful.

To all the authors and artists who respond to comments and build community: thank you. You make people smile with your work and then again with your response.

To everyone who contributes to fandom and community in all the other beautiful, varied ways that I can't even begin to list: thank you. You are why we're here.

And, finally, to every writer, visual artist, gifmaker, cosplayer, maker of edits, writer of meta, or creator of art in any other form: thank you. Your work is wonderful and you make fandom what it is, regardless of who sees your art or how much response you recieve.

Keep going, everyone. You are a part of something beautiful.

[jeanblack2056]

Soooo, I'm doing a witchertober this year and kinda forgor to post it here as well, so Imma be posting it when I'm done all at once. But. BUT.

Today I did this cute Letho&Julita moment as a tribute to @inexplicifics and just can't resist. The Accidental Warlord AU was the first thing I read from the witcher fandom, and it holds a very special place in my heart.

Letho: Gets crushed by angry wyvern and stabbed with its tail into his bowels.

Letho: Gets up and finishes it off. Returns to Kaer Morhen.

Healers: Sir you should be unconscious, lie down.

Letho: Nah, I'll just chug down another swallow.

Julita: Lip starts wobbling when she sees him.

Letho: Immediately subdued and lets himself be "fretted about uselessly" as they disinfect, sew him up, counter the poison, etc.

Julita: I baked you a pie to get better.

Letho: Thank you snakelet, that's gonna help so much.

[slumberingcorpse]

Imagine if instead of cats being terrified of witchers, they instead loved witchers? I can just picture Lambert just walking into a town with an army of cats that he’s gathered just to cause utter chaos. (Yes, he has tried to train all of his cats to attack people he doesn’t like. He gave up after a week). Every time, Eskel sleeps in a barn or stables he wakes up with a whole colony of stray cats sleeping on him causing him to often get up late since he doesn’t want to disturb their sleep. He also makes sure to feed them any chance he gets. Geralt would constantly lose his mind during hunts since kittens will start to pop out of nowhere wanting attention and he will have to kill monsters while protecting each cat. As for Vesemir, he busies himself with building cat trees for all the cats that wander into Kear Morhan and treat them as more of his children. He gave them all names and makes clothes, toys (Made with the purest of cat nip), and beds for all of them. Some of them even have small versions of the wolf medallions as collars.

[crazyrainbowgirl221]

[between-thepages]

My first fill for the @cake-shop-rarepair-bingo!

His Beautiful Fox

Prompt:  Teasing in Public

Fandom: The Witcher

Relationships:  Isengrim Faoiltiarna/Iorveth

Rating: Explicit

Content Warnings: Semi-Public Sex, Alley Sex, Dry Humping

Summary: Isengrim is not used to seeing his lover without armour - and it awakens something in both of them.

Also a part of the Cooking with the Hanza July Theme, Tropes and Clichés.

[kingthunder]

Prompt for Geralt and Jaskier: “God I hate you” & “Prove it.” I know you’ll make a masterpiece (like all of your work)!!💜

Rience plays with him. Rience hits him. Rience lights a flame, and laughs, and laughs, and laughs, and all Jaskier can do is burn.

.

Jaskier isn’t quite the same afterwards. The non-essential parts of him have gone up in smoke and what’s left is this: he has found out in the most intimate way possible that when it’s time for hurting—when the very meat of him is black and charred and he can taste the smoke of his own fat on the back of his tongue—that even then he cannot redirect the hurt onto Geralt. He’ll take it all and fold it up inside him and keep Geralt safe, even though Geralt didn’t do the same for him.

He wants to be angry about it. He wants to scream his righteous fury to the skies. Hell, he’s been doing that for a year already, in every tavern that will let him through the door, insisting that he wants Geralt to burn, burn, burn for what he did to Jaskier’s heart.

Only he isn’t angry anymore. He’s burned enough for the both of them. He’s just tired and lonely and misses his friend and wonders, like pushing on a bruise, if Geralt misses him too.

He wants Geralt to miss him too.

.

Later, when everything has gone to hell and back and the dust has settled, Geralt comes to Jaskier’s room in Kaer Morhen.

“We can’t stay,” Geralt says. “I was trying to keep Ciri safe, but all I did was put everyone else in danger. I need to take her somewhere where she can be trained properly.”

Jaskier doesn’t know who Geralt means when he says “we.” It’s been weeks since they hugged through three inches of creaking leather and metal, and in that time he has yet to figure out if he’s still included in Geralt’s life or if the shapes they’ve been broken into don’t fit together anymore. He’ll love Geralt the same regardless, but he needs to guard his heart.

“I wish you the best,” Jaskier says, thrusting his hand out for Geralt to shake.

Brow furrowed, Geralt takes it. Then he turns Jaskier’s hand palm up and says, “What’s this?”

His thumb is running over the scars Rience left.

“It’s nothing,” Jaskier says.

“It’s something.”

So Jaskier tells him, because he could never really deny Geralt anything. His words are dispassionate, a simple recounting of events, but what he means is, I love you. What he means is, I’d do it again but please don’t make me. Describing the depths of his one-sided devotion, even in such dry terms, leaves him aching and raw, and by the end of it he can’t stop his chin from quivering.

He’s clenched his hand into a white-knuckled fist without realizing it. Slowly, Geralt unbends each finger. He presses a kiss to the middle of Jaskier’s palm and Jaskier’s nostrils flare with the effort of holding in a sob.

“Stop,” Jaskier says.

Geralt stops but doesn’t let go of Jaskier’s hand. He says, “Thank you for keeping Ciri safe.”

“Did a pretty shit job of that in the end, didn’t I?”

Jaskier’s chin is still quivering.

“I’ll never let anyone hurt you like that again,” Geralt says. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“How was I supposed to do that?” Jaskier says helplessly. “Oh hello Geralt, nice seeing you after all this time, I know you hate my guts right now, but by the way, someone tortured me for information about you, just thought you should know, cheers, mate.”

“I don’t hate your guts.”

“Yeah, well you did a pretty good impression of it.”

“I’m sorry. I’m not…good at feelings.”

“He’s sorry, he says. And no, you’re not. Good at feelings, that is—oh bloody hell.” 

Geralt has started kissing Jaskier’s fingertips one by one. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs between each one.

 “God, I hate you,” Jaskier says, whimpering. “You just do whatever you bloody want, don’t you?”

Geralt pauses and looks up at Jaskier, eyes troubled.

“Do you not want this?”

“I do,” Jaskier says. “Gods help me, I do, but I  won’t give myself away so cheaply again, witcher. You have to want it, too. You have to really want it, with every poorly articulated feeling in that whole gorgeous body of yours.”

Geralt’s voice is rough. “I do.”

Jaskier cups Geralt’s cheek with his scarred hand and says, “Prove it.”

Geralt kisses him. It’s everything Jaskier has ever wanted and it’s not—quite—enough.

“Prove it,” Jaskier says again, breathing hard, his forehead rocking against Geralt’s. “Prove it,” he whispers, drawing back a fraction as Geralt’s lips chase his.

“I’m trying.”

“Not like that.”

Geralt pulls back far enough to look at him. After a moment of silence, Geralt says, “Come with us. Me and Ciri and Yen. Come with us. Then you can let me prove it every day. I’m tired of missing you.”

Jaskier smiles and finally lets Geralt kiss him again. Melts into it and kisses him back, warm and soft. He feels seen. Wanted. The hurt deep inside him dislodges itself and he thinks, for the first time in a long time, that it's possible to be happy again.

“That’s a good start,” Jaskier says.

[hannibard]

I want a fic where Jaskier is dying from hanahaki disease and Geralt finds out and confesses to save his life but Jaskier is like:

Jaskier: Um, I appreciate your feelings Geralt but I'm sorry, I stopped loving you like that a while ago...

Geralt: If not me then who?!

Jaskier: ...Yennefer

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 35

Geralt has a staring problem. Especially for his bard. When Jaskier eats, Geralt stares. Stares. Stares. Memorizes how his lips look, wrapping around a fork. How they redden after a sip of wine. How he licks his fingers. How his eyes roll back in delight when he eats food from an inn after a few days of Geralt's cooking in a row. When Jaskier sleeps, Geralt stares. Stares. Stares. The way Jaskier's finger twitches occasionally. The way his eyes move around underneath his eyelids. The soft breaths from his parted lips. The way his stomach shows when he lifts his arms up. The way he snores and rolls around mindlessly. When Jaskier plays, Geralt stares. Stares. Stares. The way Jaskier's fingers dance across his beloved lute's strings. The extravagant and overly colorful clothing he wears. How he winks at Geralt in the audience. How he bounces around the stage in pure joy. The way he bares his throat on the final few notes. Jaskier assumes witchers just must not need to blink that much.

[lozislaw]

Every few years I remember camp camp, binge, then ship these two little bitches

[daerienn]

Modern!Tissaia Headcanons (Appearance)

brought to you by me, a.k.a. mydearmydearmydear (on AO3)

Tissaia religiously applies her skincare. She has put in a lot of effort, time and money into finding an elaborate skincare routine that leaves her skin soft, plump, moisturised and healthy. Since money is not an issue, she opts for high-end and luxury products, though she doesn’t shy away from cheaper ones if they are equally as effective. Twice a day, morning and evening, she stands in her bathroom and uses the time to relax, watching as the products sink into her skin. It’s a humble point of pride for her, her little act of vanity. Problems arise when a product she uses gets discontinued; she’ll either go out of her way to get her hands on some remaining stocks or she feels minor anxiety – which can spiral into a full on breakdown if she isn’t careful – until she finds a suitable replacement. 

Tissaia owns a capsule wardrobe, meaning she owns a choice few items she can mix and match to create seemingly endless outfits. Her clothes are of very high quality, thus are quite costly. She doesn’t shy away from investing in such items however, since they will last her a long time. Usually she opts for black and neutral colours, though the odd gem colour – ocean blues, emerald greens and romantic reds – compliment her wardrobe very nicely. When she is out and about, Tissaia is all business, no casual. Chic blazers, coats, pencil skirts, heels, pant suits  – those are staple pieces in her wardrobe. For formal events she usually chooses smart dresses. At home, when Tissaia, though rarely, grants herself some leisure time, she can be seen in straight-legged jeans and white tank tops, shirts or jumpers – depending on the temperatures and potential visitors.  Her wardrobe is sorted by category, season and colour. 

Tissaia does her own manicure, partly because she doesn’t like people touching her and her hands, partly because she can barely stand the smell. Once a week she will sit outside with a mask as she does her nails. She keeps them short and clean; either she applies a simple layer of topcoat to add some shine or she wears a subtle rosy nude that matches all her outfits. 

[lodgeofeilhart]

Here is my new Tissaia/Reader fic!!

The University, enjoy!