#'I'm stealing Geralt's woman.'

[sootyships]

I'm stealing Geralt's woman /jjjjjjj

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 109

Geralt is a witcher. Cats tend to distance themselves from witchers. Sometimes Geralt wonders what cats are like. So one day he asks. "Cats are lovely. Beautiful little sweethearts." The old woman who owns the inn says to him. "Cats are annoying varmints, always yowling in the middle of the night when they're in heat, they SCREAM their little heads off, can't catch a wink of sleep with them around!" A man passing by him in the market complains, with the anger of someone who has clearly thought about this a lot. "My cat isn't the biggest fan of being touched, but she's a good girl. Catches the mice." "They're evil little hellions, nothing compared to dogs. Don't even like their owners." "I'd like 'em a whole lot more if my way of living wasn't being a fisherman. They climb in at night and steal my best catches." "They're adorable!" "My cat is the cuddliest sweetest snuggliest little kitty to ever live, I think. Nobody will ever love me as much as he loves me." "My friend has a kitten! She already knows to chase the feathers we wave in front of her! I hope she still plays when she grows up." Opinions are varied in the town, but the majority seem to love them. He wants to know what they're like, not if they are liked. He sits down with a friendlier townie one afternoon and asks in detail what cats are like. What's great about them, what's bad about them, what do they like, what do they hate, what can they do, what have they done? The more she describes cats, however, the more Geralt can't help but be reminded of Jaskier. "They're playful. They love making noise and chasing things."

"Geralt, please, can't I play my lute? It's been fourteen whole minutes of SILENCE! Let me play a song!" "Why do you stay?" "Maybe I just like following you, Geralt. It's nice only having to pay for half of everything, after all."

"They're moody little things. Cats will want to cuddle you one second, and be left alone the next, and if you can't read their mind, they'll give you an annoyed little pouty face, as if you were meant to know better!"

"Geralt, do you mind if I...?" "If you what?" "Sit here?" "...My lap?" "That is where I'm sitting, yes. May I?" "...Mm." "Great thanks!~" "Geralt, you pissing idiot! I can't believe you! Don't touch me! Don't even look at me! How could you do something so so so SO stupid!?" "This is my job, Jaskier." "And apparently sewing up your arm is mine!" "I can take care of it." "Oh, I'm meant to just trust the man who went off and got mauled by a werewolf, then?"

"They enjoy a good sleep. Cats nap more than my old man, if you can believe it. They love comfort and luxury."

"Geralt, can't we stay at an inn? It's been so long." "Can we rest? Just for a bit? Pleaaaase? I want a nap. Don't I deserve it?" "Geralt, not to be ungrateful, but I think sleeping on the dirt would be better than this inn. Don't tell me you're making us sleep here. There's probably snakes nesting in the pillows."

"But at the same time, they love the grittiest bits of the outdoors. Chasing rabbits through tunnels, climbing trees after a songbird- My childhood cat used to dive in the swamp to catch frogs."

"Geralt, taking a shortcut through the bog is the easiest way to get to the competition in time! Now hurry along! Either I cross the bog alone, or you come with me!" "Geralt, I went looking for potion ingredients while you were skinning the deer!" "Geralt, are you going to cut the damn thing's head off or what? Wait, darling, are you alright? Are you hurt? Let me do it-"

"They sometimes bring you dead critters because they want to feed you. It's oddly very endearing."

"Geralt, I bought you some honey buns!" "I found some lovely cakes, do you want one, Geralt? You haven't eaten at all today." "I- I killed it. It was coming straight for you and I panicked. Am I bleeding? I can't quite tell because of the adrenaline, so am I bleeding or not, Gerelt? Can you tell me? Are YOU bleeding? Did I get it in time?" "I got so many tips last time I played, Geralt, you can get a bigger meal."

"They get themselves into trouble a lot, though. Places they shouldn't be, things they shouldn't touch, things they shouldn't eat."

"Geralt, I didn't mean to cause all of this. I'm sorry." "It's nothing, Jaskier. I'm just glad you're unharmed." "...Um... Geralt? Can you let go of my wrists now?" "Don't. Touch. Anything. The plant's spines are poisonous." "Jaskier, spit it out! SPIT IT OUT! I told you to stop fucking eating things in Yennefer's place" "Then why was it colored like a nice candy?"

"When they're scared or angry, they can make a right mess out of you. Don't let their cuteness fool you, they can do some damage."

"What else was I supposed to do, Geralt?" "Not punch him!" "He said you were a monster!" "I am!" "Do you want me to punch YOU?" "Geralt, I lost my dagger. It was in one of the bandits we chased away." "Geralt, will you teach me how to use a sword? Nothing fancy, just how to kill something."

"But above all, they're loyal, and loving. Ever so lovely. They'd die for you, if you treated them nice enough." "Thank you for telling me. I.. Have to go." Geralt stammers out, racing away to the inn he left Jaskier in. "Oh, hello, Geralt. Did you find a contact?" And Geralt yanks him close, and hugs him. He should try kissing him one of these days. Either way, Geralt won't mourn for the cat he can never have, for he has a Jaskier, and it's close enough.

[mrabubu]

Does Syanna deserves redemption, and why she doesn't?

Ok, so by this moment some of you might know that I'm a huge fan of The Witcher 3, and for some time "Blood and Wine" DLC and it's endings been a huge dilemma for me. When I played it the first time about 3-4 years ago, I didn't really though much about my own choice, and went for "the best ending", because everyone considered it to be the best, but after all this time I started to think, is it really the best, and does Syanna really deserves redemption and to be forgiven? So, to finally summarise, I've decided to make this post, with my own analysis, facts and lines from the game itself... Because I just need to get it out of my system, so yeah... Let's start.

So my main problem in all this is Syanna herself, her motives, past and all... Yeah, ok, she was traumatized, treated awfully by her family, but after some analysis, I don't feel any sympathy towards her.

People use her childhood as an argument to her actions, but has anyone though about if she even tried to act differently? From what we learn from the game, and from Anarietta herself, Syanna never even tried to change. Syanna had many chances to stop this all or to start over, but she didn't care, because she didn't want to change. She admits herself that even if she had a chance (and she did had) to start over, she wouldn't change anything, and if people see her as a monster, she will be one.

Even Anarietts herself admits and never hides that Syanna was cruel, selfish and possessive.

Not to mention unquestionably terrible things she did and didn't feel any remorse or even laughed at, like the story with Cedric and his brother whom he killed because of Syanna's "prank". Torturing fairy tale creatures in the land of a thousand fables to the point when they feel terrified when she approaches. Or even that story which led to her exile: why didn't Syanna stop Anarietts from setting those balloons on fire which they then threw at that envoy? I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure this didn't went without any consequences for him.

After some thinking, I can't even be sure that Anarietta is to blame. Anarietta was the youngest in the family, and as most youngest, she looked up to her older sibling. In some way, Syanna was the one who raised Anarietta to be the way she was and to be like her older sister. Even Syanna admits so, by saying that Anarietta wanted to impress her. Syanna had to take responsibility for her actions, or at least understand that when time will come to find a culprit, she will be the one to blame. I will also remind that Syanna spent most of her life as a bandit, even became a leader of the gang, which means she probably did a lot of more terrible things, stealing, blackmailng, hurting or even killing people for her own gain. I'm pretty sure she wasn't a female version of Robin Hood.

Syanna's "motivation" lies in resentment toward a child, and even after decades, Syanna never understood that her 12-13 year old sister couldn't do much to change what was coming. Even Geralt understood all this after knowing her for a couple of days.

She never wanted to try and contact Anarietta, talk to her about all that happened then. A grown up, probably about 30-40 years old woman, holding a grudge towards a child, whom Anarietta was back then. She was fine to just kill her younger sister without even trying to solve this peacefully, just ask "why?", even though Anarietta herself tried to find Syanna, but she "didn't wish to be found", to which Syanna never argued, meaning she willingly avoided any chances to talk this out, while Anarietta was the only one who actually held love towards her sibling throughout all these years and tried to do something.

And Syanna saying that she's angry with Anarietta not because she didn't stood up for her, but because "she forgot", I'm sorry, sounds like total b u l l s h i t, because we know and she knows this isn't true. After all this I'm not even sure Syanna really loved Anarietta, if she so easily convinced herself that her little sister is a traitor, forgot about all that they been through, and after at least two decades the only way for her to solve this is to just get rid of Anarietta by somebody else's hands and make an entire scene of this like it was a perfomance. Irony of all this is that Syanna accused Anarietta that she didn't stood up for her because she wanted to take the throne to herself, but a lot of things points to that it is Syanna who just uses her "trauma" and knight's "dishonesty" as an excuse to kill her sister and take the throne. After all this, this was her point at the "court".

The difference between Syanna and Dettlaff is that Dettlaf doesn't kill for fun or joy, while Syanna does. Make Cedric kill his brother was a joke to her. Setting a person on fire made her laugh, "Never laughed so hard in my life", as she said.

Using and blackmailing a person who loved her meant nothing to her and never made her feel guilty or shame, even to the point of blaming him for being too trusting.

Even Geralt was used by her, which she admits at some point by telling she was nice to him only to "get him to sleep with her", which makes this whole thing even more disgusting for me as in all this situation one of the few thing Syanna could think of was s e x. People to her is nothing but toys or tools, even those who love her and saw in her more than she is.

Another difference between those two is that Dettlaff actually tried for many years, if not decades, to live peacefully among humans, helping them, and that is a fact backed up by words or others, and not only by Regis's words, while the only person who tried to defend Syanna was Anarietta, only because they were siblings and Anarietta felt guilty.

And another only person who could tell something about Syanna was her another simple victim she used and manipulated for her own gain.

Even her decision to help to stop Dettlaff doesn't feel like something she decided to do willingly, but something she did under pressure, because she had no choice. She admitted herself that she would prefer just to run away rather than face Dettlaff, but I guess it's hard to do so when another higher vampire and a witcher standing in front of you.

And do you remember that moment when we first got to the land of a thousand fables, and Syanna asks us what are we doing here, and if we choose the sarcastic line, she genuinely doesn't understand why are we ended up here, meaning she either forgot about Dettlaff's threat and her "promise" to help, or just didn't care from the start.

And, honestly, right after Dettlaff fled and Syanna met Anarietta, why didn't she try to stop Anarietta from taking her away? Didn't she just told us that Dettlaff means no joke and meeting with him is "the least she could do"? Why didn't she try to argue, saying that Bauclair is in danger now, and that Syanna has to go and meet Dettlaff. From what we got, it more looked like Syanna wanted to be taken away to sneak out later and just run away.

If we would've gotten a scene where we see that Syanna had a chance to run away but in the end decided to keep her word, that would've been one thing, but all that we see is that she either goes willingly, or Geralt and Regis will probably drag her to Tesham Mutna with broken legs.

But you know what could actually fix this whole situation for me? If in the game we were told that Syanna actually tried to change. If in this accident, that led to her exile, it would've been established that Syanna tried to stop Anarietta, and when she tried to explain what actually happened no one believed her, and Anarietta didn't tell the truth, all this would've actually worked. But no.

And after all this, in the end, she never admits her fault. Everyone, in her opinion, was to blame, while she's the one and only saint and innocent, who did nothing wrong. She never apologises for what she was doing to people, never thinks that maybe some part of her life was the cause of her own actions and not wanting to at least try and not provoke others. We have, as an example, second DLC, Hearts of stone, where we have Olgierd, who was also a terrible man, but the main difference between Syanna and him, that he admits he himself caused what he got, that he caused so much pain to those he loved,

and in the ending where he survives, we at least see him wanting to start a new life, even tho he lost everything he had and loved.

We don't see anything remotely like this from Syanna. While Olgierd regects his past and decides to start a new life, "take faith in his own hands", Syanna keeps blaming the world for everything wrong in her life, her parents, her sister, the knights, never considering that maybe she also did something wrong.

And in this "best ending" everyone just forgave her and forgot about all these sick things she did across her life, while our/Geralt's best friend, who we know for a long time, if you consider books, helped Geralt many times, once already died fighting for us in the battle agains Vilgefortz, basically tortured himself to find out why Dtttlaff is doing what he's doing, in this ending became "anathema", is chased by his own kind, and had to kill a person who saved his life and was the one who actually tried to change.

And so, in the end we have a sadistic, self-centered psychopath, who used, hurt, manipulated and lied to those who trusted her, never expressed any kind of remorse towards those she hurt, never reflected on her life and never even tried to change to prove that she's a better person from who people though she was.

If to choose, I would choose to safe Dettlaff, because unlike Syanna, he tried to change, and I do believe that this character could be redeemed and never wanted any of this from the start, and the fact is a fact that if not for Syanna, nothing of this would've happened. After learning more about Vampire's lore, talking to Regis about how hard it is for them to live among humans, I actually feel sorry for him and Dettlaff. Yes, Dettlaff did terrible thing, he's impulsive and because of that many people died, but that's why the game give us an option to kill him too. I, myself, would never choose to save Syanna and give her a happy ending after all she did and whi she is. For me, she's unquestionably unredeemable.

[casimania]

I'm playing The Witcher again so I'm in CasFin AU mode again so:

[[MORE]]

Finas is a Witcher, bit of a bastard, so so grumpy, very fed up with humans, definitely gives you no discounts on his monster killing (like, he will squeeze you for all the coin you can possibly give him. He's done patching up his clothes until they literally fall apart). I'm thinking he's from the Bear School.

Casimiro is a mercenary half-elf, also bit fed up with humans, being a mercenary wasn't his first career choice but the big pointy ears and him having a horrible horrible personality and a big ass gambling problem kind of paved his way into mowing down people and monsters for money (mostly people).

Toni is a bard. One that likes adventure. Has traveled with, Abner, Casimiro, Finas, Not! Zombie and Hanna to get inspiration and see the world. Became a werewolf at some point and was helped by Finas, probably wrote a ballad about it, Casimiro was delighted, Finas less so (Casimiro pays to hear it in any inn they go when he discovers someone knows it, and probably pays Toni to sing it whenever they meet too).

Hanna is a sorcerer, not very interested in politics, he's 100% focused on magic and how to use it to help. He's probably a quarter gnome. Not!Zombie is an amnesiac who found him after some wandering to help with his memory but Hanna's magic couldn't do anything, since he had sword skills (he didn't remember how he acquired) he started following Hanna around to help him and later just because he liked him.

Abner is a Witcher of a different school than Finas (either Viper or Griffin? I'm trying to add away from Wolf bcs I imagine them just doing their whole the canon Witcher stuff happens and none of them had previous knowledge of Geralt and Co.) and probably helped him with a monster at some point (and then Casimiro tagged along and they were immediately at each other's throats). He hates the Order with a burning passion, like the religious zealotry just makes him uneasy and they won't stop trying to interfere with his monster hunting whenever he meets a Knight and he's like, fuck off mutant coming through.

Conrad is an alchemist, but one that hates a lot interacting with scary stuff, so he mostly pays other ppl to get ingredients for him. Namely Hanna, Abner and Finas. In that order because Finas is scary and expensive because he knows he can pay well and it's not a life or death situation, Abner is scary and less expensive and Hanna is cheap as fuck and not scary (but he's also the one that accidentally gets chased by a monster right on Conrad's doorstep).

Adelaide is a sorceress, a little more interested in politics than Hanna. Probs fucked over Finas and Casimiro during a job, like swooped down stole their kill and money more than once. They're def not on good terms. She's a quarter elf and has something going on with Lamont, who is a messenger. He likes delivering messages to Adelaide ;). He also sscrelty smuggles illegal stuff.

Worth is a medic and field surgeon. He never actually graduated any academy tough and no one even remembers if he actually attended one. But he's got a good track record and he's very cheap so a lot of people seek him out.

Version 2 of Casimiro and Finas has just them as higher vampires. Still hold a grudge over Adelaide, who's also a higher vampire in her version 2 too. Version 2 Abner instead is an ex Knight of the Order who joined very young to protect ppl from monster but grew disillusioned with it and deserted. Now he's a traveling sellsword who focuses on monsters. It's way better when he doesn't have to deal with corruption and prejudice from the inside.

[sargassostories]

Ahhh today I'm thinking about how everyone who is important to Yen totally misreads her at first.

Istredd, her first real love, possibly the first person to ever treat her with real tenderness, to want to protect and guide her in a scary new world, who she betrays and who betrays her so obliviously and utterly it steals her future... when she rejects a supporting role in his life as "slow suicide," tells her she's just mad because she "lost her chance to be beautiful."

She corrects him: "I want to be powerful."

Later, when she's learned about Geralt's wish and comes back to him, Istredd reveals that she repeatedly rejected his requests to continue his research in Aedirn, and rejects her: "You chose the thing you love. I'm sorry you chose power."

But he has no idea what it is to be powerless.

Geralt, who she's had just the beginnings of a relationship of one-night-stands with, turns the minute he realizes she's on the dragon hunt "for made-up fertility remedies" and tells her she'd be a bad mother, then taunts her: "Yen. A child? What could you possibly want with a child?"

She corrects him: "They took my choice. I want it back."

Later, when he's confessed he came here for her, to see her, and they're finally connecting a little more and talking about their lost dreams, he asks her: "Did you always want to become a mother?"

And she confesses to him: "I dreamed... of becoming important to someone. Someday."

He's only starting to really see her, and she's only starting to really let him, and then discovers her trust was built on yet another person taking her choice from her.

Tissaia, the woman Istredd warned her about, who bought her from her father, tells her that mages like them need to control their emotions at all times to keep others safe, after Yennefer redirects the lightning she captured through her own body and at Tissaia in a fit of rage. And Yennefer tries her best to follow the rules and bottle herself up, until the system fucks her over, repeatedly, anyway.

Later, when Yennefer is all they have left against Nilfgaard. When she finally comes looking for Tissaia, a fucked-up mother figure but the only one she has, Tissaia tells Yen to "let your chaos explode."

Yen connects to and unleashes her power fully for the very first time. But at what cost? When the fuel for your fire is anger and pain, does it cleanse? Or does it sear it in deeper?

[seidenbros]

You'll make me brave Ch. 2

Pairing: Geraskier (Geralt x Jaskier) (Yennefer supporting EVERYTHING)

Warnings: loss of a loved one, murder, emotional damage, (child) abuse

Word Count: 3787

A/N: Following this first chapter which was inspired by these gifs by the wonderful @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky (I'll thank you again and again for the inspiration) where Jaskier apparently killed his own father and Geralt is the Detective investigating the case. Though there is something about Jaskier that makes him want to protect him. Chapter 1 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5

They didn't talk on the way to Yennefer's apartment. The two of them had met a couple of years ago when Jaskier had been accused of stealing something, which had turned out to be utter bullshit and just someone trying to get his attention. Of course they'd gotten his attention, but not the kind they'd been hoping for. Yennefer had been so badass in that situation that it had absolutely impressed Jaskier. As a thank you, he'd invited her around to cook for her, wanting to get to know more about that woman. That had been one of his best decisions, because the two of them had understood each other perfectly. Yes, Jaskier trusted her, but he hadn't told her everything about himself, about his life, because he didn't want her to get involved in this, to be a keeper of secrets, or maybe try to talk him into talking with the police. But now... now that this had happened, he'd maybe have to tell her a little more. Of course, she'd assumed a thing or two by the way Jaskier had talked about his father, but she couldn't be sure.

Once they were in her apartment, Jaskier managed to speak again. “Yennefer, I didn't-”

“I know,” she cut him off, led him straight to the living room to make him sit down. He was still a little wobbly on his feet, so standing around wasn't an option. She only vanished for a moment to get a bottle of water and hand it to him. “You could never do that.” She firmly believed that, though Jaskier wasn't so sure himself anymore. Maybe, he'd made this other person up in his mind to protect himself from his own actions? It was possible after all.

“I think there was someone there.” After unscrewing the bottle, he took a sip. His mouth felt way too dry, his whole body weary. Now, his memory was still rather fresh, so he needed to say this. “But I couldn't make out who that was. It was more of a shadow, everything so dark and...” He shook his head, putting the bottle aside, because he didn't want to risk spilling the water on her new carpet. “He was still alive when I got to him, Yen...” Jaskier swallowed hard, not ready to face his friends, afraid of what he might see there. “I could have called for help, but I didn't.” And he wasn't the least bit sorry about it. After everything that man had done... Jaskier hadn't been able to help him. “I pulled the knife out.”

“Oh Jask...” Yennefer sighed. She had to try and keep a clear head for this, to think like a lawyer more than a friend. She sat down next to him, reaching for his hand. “We'll work this out, okay?” Her eyes were on Jaskier, who was staring at the floor. “Hey, look at me!” This made him tear his eyes away from the pattern on the carpet, and she could see just how tired he was. “Everything will turn out fine. But now, you need to get some rest. You know where my bedroom is, so get yourself ready.”

“I can't possibly take your bed, Yennefer. You need your sleep as well.”

“Who says, I'm not sleeping in my bed as well, eh? There's enough space, and that way I can make sure that you're safe in your dreams.”

Her words managed to make him give a little smile, feeling at ease around her. There was still so much going on in his head, so much that needed to be worked out, but for now, she was right. He needed some sleep, some peace, and he would definitely get that with her around. Her presence was soothing for him. After all, it wasn't the first time they would be sharing a bed. Jaskier had spend a few nights here, and they'd been out at concerts together, partying, and then had fallen asleep in Yennefer's bed. Except for a drunken kiss, nothing had happened between them, but they were friends. Friends who understood each other without words sometimes.

~~~~~~~~~

Most of the night, Yennefer had spend lying next to the musician, watching him sleep. Every time his body had started trembling, she'd put her hand on his shoulder, feeling him relax beneath her touch. Eventually she'd fallen asleep at one point, but she still woke before Jaskier. Good, because he needed that rest. Yennefer got up quietly, got dressed and left the door open just a crack so she would hear him, when he woke. Coffee was already getting ready, when there was a knock on the front door. She didn't expect anyone, and hadn't ordered anything this morning, because she wanted to run to the next bakery to grab breakfast for the two of them.

None other than the Detective stood right in front of her when she opened. Her first instinct was to close the door again, but he'd brought breakfast. Of course, he was here because he wanted answers from Jaskier, who was still a suspect, but the promise of breakfast made her open the door wider to let him inside.

“If you're not nice, I'll throw you out the window,” Yennefer warned, leading him towards the kitchen. An amused grin was playing on Geralt's lips when she turned to face him again. “What? Do you think I'm not able to do that?”

“I think you are perfectly capable of doing that, don't worry. I've seen men nearly twice your size turn into tiny balls of fear when you wreaked havoc on them.” And he'd watched that in amusement. She was someone you didn't want to cross, but it was still Geralt's job to do that on occasion, though he was always, always just trying to find the truth. Yes, he had to step on some toes here and there, but that was something he couldn't help.

“Good, so be warned.” Yennefer turned around again to grab a cup of coffee and place it in front of the Detective. Every now and then they'd had to work together, so she knew how he took his coffee: With lots of sugar. She'd remembered because it was a contrast to his rough exterior.

“Yennefer..” he pleaded, waiting for her to look at him again. “I really am here to help, believe it or not. I'm not even on duty right now, I just... wanted to make sure, everything's alright.” And if Jaskier decided to talk to him, that would be fine with him as well. Preferred even, because he wanted to find out what had happened, and what had happened before this fateful evening.

“Morning...” A rough, sleepy voice said from the opposite side of the room. Jaskier stood there dressed in boxers and a shirt, hair standing up in every direction. His eyes were still a little puffy from all the tears the night before. It took him a moment to realize that it was the Detective standing next to Yennefer. Someone he definitely hadn't expected there, and for a moment, he felt a little embarrassed. Sure, he'd seen Jaskier all bloody, had seen him crying and before that empty his stomach's contents on the floor. But somehow standing here in his underwear before him was what he was embarrassed about. “I'll be just a minute...” Without waiting for a reaction, he vanished into the bathroom. Luckily, he still had some clothes here at Yennefer's from their partying together.

Geralt was still looking after him, when Yennefer cleared her throat. Her eyes bore into him when he turned to face her.

“What?” he scowled at her, reaching for the coffee to take a long drag – maybe to busy himself with something, because there was just something about Jaskier that drew Geralt in. Whatever it was. This wasn't the time and place to ponder on it, and he wasn't in the position to even think about it, but... it just happened.

“Nothing...” Yennefer hid her smirk behind her cup of coffee. She'd seen that kind of look before. Jaskier just had something about him that drew people in, men and women alike. It had been the same with her, but she'd started to love him as a friend. A friend she cherished. And to be honest, she'd never seen Geralt this flustered. Was he blushing? Better not comment on that, because that would only turn into a heated argument. Not that she shied away from something like this, in fact, she rather enjoyed a good banter, but right now, she wanted to keep the atmosphere light as to not frighten Jaskier or anything.

When the musician returned from the bathroom looking rather refreshed – yes, he'd stolen some of Yennefer's concealer because the face staring back at him in the mirror had made him take a step back – the other two had already set the table. The smell of freshly baked goods made his mouth water and his stomach give a little rumble.

“Sit down and eat,” Yennefer ordered pushing a cup of tea his way, because Jaskier hardly ever drank coffee. He rather enjoyed a good cup of earl grey in the morning to start the day right.

“How are you feeling?” Geralt's voice was softer than the night before, still a low rumble in his chest, but Jaskier quite liked the sound of his voice. Even when it was harsh, there were some undertones that resonated with the musician in him. That was his own explanation at least.

“Hungry.” Jaskier managed a smile in that moment, feeling at ease with the two people around him. He reached for a croissant and placed it on his plate, before he looked back up at the Detective again. “It's a lot to process, and yesterday... I can't say that I'm sorry about his death. Not after everything he's done to me.” It was the first time he really said it out loud like this. Yennefer had had her suspicions, as did Geralt, but she'd never asked Jaskier about it, figuring that he would tell her when the time was right.

“Alright... Breakfast first and then we can talk. If you want to that is.” Geralt glanced at Yennefer, ready for her to butt in, but she didn't. Instead she drained her coffee, before she started to eat. Right now, there were no more words needed, but they all needed to eat breakfast, if they wanted to make it through the day. Because Yennefer already expected the press to have heard about that, and she knew that they would want to talk to Jaskier. Another reason why she'd taken him with her to her own apartment instead of going to his.

When they were finished with breakfast, Yennefer put the dishes away, while both men ventured out onto the balcony, settling down there to enjoy some fresh air as well as the sun. Jaskier was just about to say something, when Geralt's phone rang. He excused himself for a moment, because it was important, but it left Jaskier a little nervous. More so when Geralt returned, and he could see the scowl on his face.

“Jaskier, we really need to talk about what happened,” he said, sitting down opposite Jaskier, not taking his eyes off the musician. “The evidence came back and we found your DNA beneath your father's fingernails, as well as your prints on the knife.” Expectantly, he looked at Jaskier. Yes, he'd wanted to breech the topic slowly, carefully, but with the evidence they had now, it wasn't that easy anymore, and he wanted answers, wanted to find out the truth.

“Tell him.” Yennefer encouraged him, standing in the door, leaning against the frame, because she didn't want to get between the two of them. Though she wasn't Geralt's biggest fan, she knew that he was honest. She could usually detect when someone was lying which made her a damn good lawyer – and only take the cases where she knew she was able to help, since she didn't want to get anyone who'd actually committed a crime, to get out and maybe do something horrible again.

Jaskier's tongue darted out to wet his lips before he was able to speak. “He was still alive when I got there. The door was open, everything was dark and he was just lying there on the floor.” He cast his eyes down, not able to look at the two people there with him. He rubbed his thumb against his fingers, a technique to calm himself down. Something he'd already done as a child when he'd hidden from his father. “I got... I got on the floor, saw him trying to get some air in his lungs, and I know... I know I should have called for help.” Jaskier sighed, pressed his lips together, because he didn't want to cry again. It wasn't easy, but he kept the tears at bay. Nobody interrupted him, they gave him all the time he needed. “But I couldn't. I told him what I thought and pulled the knife out of his chest.” He shouldn't have done it, he knew, but it had been so satisfying causing the man who'd hurt him over and over again at least some pain. And then there had been utter silence. He hadn't even heard the sirens outside, hadn't heard anything until he'd felt someone's hands on him.

“That explains your fingerprints on the knife,” Geralt said after a moment of silence, but he had to admit that he wasn't entirely convinced. All the evidence as well as Jaskier's opinion of his own father pointed to him as the one who'd stabbed him.

“I saw someone there,” Jaskier added eventually looking back up again at the Detective. “I mean... I think I saw someone, I can't be sure anymore. It was merely a shadow that vanished through the backdoor as soon as they saw me.” But he couldn't describe that person, not in the least.

“The backdoor was unlocked, but we didn't see anything else there.” Geralt's eyes hadn't left him, and again, just like the night before, the urge to comfort Jaskier was there. And this time, he really reached across to put his hand on top of the musician's, making him look up again, fear shining in his eyes, but there was something else, a hint of a smile on Jaskier's lips that got Geralt's attention for a moment. “We'll find out what happened. But therefore, I need to know more about your relationship with your father.”

Jaskier stiffened, Geralt felt it beneath his hand, but he didn't pull back. So far, Yennefer had simply watched them, but now, she stepped forward, hands still clasped around her cup. “You don't have to say anything, Jask, I know it's not an easy topic.”

“I know,” he retorted, looking up at Yennefer when he sighed. “I've always wanted to tell you, but I couldn't bring myself to say it out loud, because I didn't think anybody would believe me.” He trusted her, had trusted her right from the start, but when it came to his father, he'd always been closed off. Now that he wasn't alive anymore, now that he couldn't talk down on him anymore and say that he was a troubled child and made all that up, it was easier for Jaskier to say it out loud.

“We believe you,” Geralt said, before Yennefer could get a word out. Geralt wanted Jaskier to trust him, to confide in him, because he really wanted to help him. And that was one thing he could only do, if he knew the whole story. He'd been keeping his own secrets about his life, about his past. You kept these secrets to protect yourself, but he also knew what it was like when you had nobody to talk to about this. When the secrets started to eat you up from the inside.

Jaskier slowly stood up and pulled up his shirt, revealing a five inch long scar just above the waistband of his jeans. “When I was twelve and came home from school on a rainy day, dragging dirt into the house, he made me clean up shards of broken vases he'd shattered. And when I didn't do it fast enough, he pushed me into the shattered glass and whatever else lay there. There was a lot.” He dropped his shirt again. “The hospital was told that I'd fallen outside the house into some trash.” He shrugged his shoulders, because it sounded strange even to his ears, but it was the sad truth. The next thing he showed them were his earlobes. “When I got my ears pierced, he ripped the jewellery right out, because what kind of manwears earrings?” Jaskier smiled sadly, because he hadn't had the courage then to tell his father that he'd liked both, men and women, and he hadn't done it until this day, because at one point, he hadn't cared anymore. But back then... he'd been too scared to speak up. Then he pulled the neckline of his shirt down a little bit, revealing a patch of chesthair, but also a few smaller scars. “From when he beat me up with his stupid, big rings on his fingers for... I don't even know what anymore. He always had a reason.” Jaskier sat back down again. He could go on and on, but by now, they got the picture. “It was even worse with my Mum, but you know how it is... An honourable man would never hit his wife and child, so it was always some kind of little accident. And when people didn't see my Mum around, she was on vacation or something, when she really was nursing her injuries at home in bed, because he couldn't let her go to the hospital every time something happened.”

Geralt could see the anger bubbling to the surface again, and he understood – more than Jaskier or Yennefer could guess. But he needed to stay calm, needed Jaskier to stay calm as well, which was why he reached for the musician's hand again to make him look at the Detective. “I'm sorry this happened to you. No child should suffer like this, and I'm sorry nobody did anything to stop this from happening.” Not even his mother, who should have stepped up, who should have told someone at least to protect her child. But there was nothing to be done about that now. He got the picture, understood that she'd suffered as well, but with a child in the picture... Their safety should always come first in Geralt's opinion.

It was Geralt's turn to get up now and pull up his shirt a little, showing them a rather big scar right beneath his right pectoral. “My adoptive father did this,” he said, not having told anybody except for the therapist that had taken his case back when he'd still been a child. People usually assumed that he'd gotten these scars fulfilling his duties, and he'd let them believe this. “Burnt me when I was eight years old.” He had another one on his back, but showing them one of these two scars, was enough for the moment. “I lost my parents when I was six, had no further family, so I ended up in an orphanage. When someone wanted to adopt me, I was so excited... but it turned out to be hell on earth.” He could hear Yennefer gasp behind him, because of course she hadn't known, hadn't even assumed anything like this about his past. This time, it was Jaskier who reached for Geralt's hand, took it in his and just held it. This light touch seemed to calm both of them. “The director of the orphanage, Vesemir, came to check on me and found out what had happened, so he got me out of there. After that, I didn't even want to be adopted anymore, so I grew up in the orphanage.” Vesemir was the closest thing Geralt had to a father figure, and even today, he was still in contact with the old man. “All these things are horrible, and they shouldn't happen to anybody, but they do. Sometimes it comes out rather quickly, sometimes it takes time. But these scars only show what we've survived, they don't determine where we are going.”

Geralt was right, of course, and it soothed Jaskier, soothed that spot in his heart, that had been aching for months. Ever since he'd lost his mother. “Please let her live just one more day, 'cause she is so much more than all her scars...” he sang quietly, a sad smile on his lips. He'd written that about his mother... years ago. But it just popped up in his head, because it fit perfectly with what Geralt had just said.

“Something to remember. Your scars do not define you,” Geralt said, squeezing Jaskier's hand lightly to reassure him again, show him that he was here for him, that he wanted to help. And Jaskier could finally accept that, now that he knew that they both shared something: being hurt by the one person who should have protected them. It told Jaskier a good deal about the Detective, that he – just like Jaskier himself – had built a wall to protect himself, and that it was hard to get through this wall, but some people managed to achieve that. And apparently, they'd both already made a crack in the other one's wall.

“I don't want to interrupt this bonding thing the two of you have been going one,” Yennefer said, though she was a little amused by the way the two men were looking at each other, but so far, she'd been a bystander, but still Jaskier's lawyer, so she wanted to know what they were going to do now. “But we still have to prove that Jaskier didn't in fact kill his father.”

“Yes,” Geralt agreed, leaning back again, untangling his hand from Jaskier's in the process. He thought for a moment, took a deep breath. “We need to find the person you saw there. Go back to the crime scene and let Jaskier walk us through it.” Geralt looked at the musician again, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “But only if you're ready.”

“I'm as ready as I can be.” Which was not ready at all, but with these two people by his side, he would manage, he was sure of that.

[abeautifulblog]

15!

15. Are there words, phrases, mannerisms or scenes you tend to use a lot?

lol, AHHHH but if I tell you, then you'll notice when I over-use them. 🤣🤣🤣

I've thought about this before, when musing over what idiosyncrasies would give me away if I were to participate in a blind fic exchange, etc, where people are trying to guess the author. And I have some relatively subtle punctuation quirks, but one of the phrasings that I'm conscious of every time I use it is 'something else entirely,' because I think that one's just me.

In For the Asking:

Geralt feels his breath catch. Because it's not as if he didn't already know that he had Jaskier's loyalty, but it's something else entirely to hear it—to hear Jaskier stand up before the world and declare his allegiance, proud and unhesitating, to hear Jaskier unmistakably, joyfully choose him over all others.

Geralt swallows, his mouth suddenly dry, and allows his fingers to drag through Jaskier's hair, feeling the glossy locks slide between them. And Geralt had thought it enticing enough before, stealing playful touches from each other in the baths, but gods, it is something else entirely to be allowed to touch, invited to touch, with Jaskier smelling like this.

In Song of Selfish Hearts:

He's not unfamiliar with the process—he has, in the past, paid the extra coin to have a woman do this for him—but he's used to it being brisk and relatively impersonal, never more than a strictly physical pleasure. Jaskier's leisurely attentions feel like something else entirely, the level of care with which he applies himself to the task, every touch infused with affection.

----

When it comes to macro-level similarities between stories (as in, scenes that are very similar to something from a previous work), I think it's kind of unavoidable. As a writer, I'm drawn to certain character dynamics and certain kinds of stories, and that means they're likely to share some of the same beats, even if they differ in the particulars. And I'm conscious of the parallels even if I've succeeded in obfuscating them to readers.

Like Geralt in Chapter 4 of SOSH, when he drags himself to the Bowman after his hunt: emotionally flayed, craving human comfort, driven by--

desperation so acute it's almost enough to push him past propriety and embarrassment--

as warlord!Geralt put it in For the Asking, when he's sleepless at three in the morning, and feeling all the weight of his responsibilities, and holding onto his self-control by the skin of his teeth to keep from throwing himself on Jaskier in the middle of the night for a hug--

--like Robert did in "This House Just Screams" -- since he has fewer inhibitions than warlord!Geralt, and did, in fact, show up on his crush's doorstep at ass o'clock in the morning looking for emotional support.

And none of these situations are the same in their particulars, nor do the characters behave the same in each, but to me they feel like the same moment -- a moment when the viewpoint character was desperate enough and lonely enough to violate convention (or wish they could) for the sake of the comfort they crave so badly.

They know this isn't kosher -- whether it's because Jaskier already said no (SOSH), or because the power differential makes it exploitative (FtA), or just because it's ass o'clock in the morning and don't drag him out of bed for your shit, just go home and go to sleep. They know they shouldn't -- and maybe they listen to their better angels (FtA-Geralt), or maybe they succumb to temptation (SOSH-Geralt; Robert), but it's a character-making moment either way.

[batgurl1989]

We Meet Again Chapter 2

Summary: Geralt and Younin share a meal and try to figure out where they stand with each other.

Word Count: 1800 ish

Warnings: There are some spoilers for Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt video game.

A/N: Chapter 2 is more introductions to the characters. It drags a little I am sure, but now that we have established them, things should start to pick up. As always if you want to be added to my taglist, let me know :)

Taglist: @rmtndew @princesssterek​

Chapter 1

Chapter Two

The village that had spread out over the years around the Inn at the Crossroads was starting to settle as the sun began to set. Everyone knew that it was wise to be indoors when darkness fell. It had been a while since anything had attacked the village, but no one wanted to risk it. A few nodded to you as they rushed past on their way home from shops and the tavern. The last time a monster had come bumbling through, you had been the one to scare it off, earning yourself some wary respect.

Geralt was standing under the eaves of the Inn, keeping to the shadows. His hood was pulled up over his head, but wasn't covering his eyes. The golden orbs practically glowed as they flicked around, taking note of everything going on around him. Most people either didn't notice him or didn't see him. But you did.

"Geralt." You stopped a few strides away in case you startled him. You knew how quick his reflexes were, and didn't want to put them to the test. His eyes fell on you, and you watched as they scanned you from the top of your red hair down to the muddy travelling boots you wore. "Ready to go in?"

He grunted, pushing off the wall he had been leaning against. You smiled to yourself as he caught the door as it swung open, letting a drunk man stumble out into the street. Silently, he gestured for you to enter first. When he wanted to, Geralt could have manners.

The warmth and noise of the tavern greeted you. The smell of stew and fresh bread lingered among the less savory scents of body odor and dirt. Glinda, the bar maid, nodded to you as she flitted by, her tray laden with pints of ale. With her free hand she pointed to a free table in the back where it was quieter.

It wasn't often you brought someone with you to the Inn, and usually when you did it was for work. Glinda tried to look out for you by keeping one of the quieter tables clean and free. You flashed her a smile of appreciation, and made your way through the boisterous crowd to the table. You didn't have to look to know that Geralt followed you. His presence behind you was not easy to ignore as it set the hairs on the back of your neck on alert.

You slid into a seat with your back to the crowd, knowing that it would be more comfortable for Geralt to sit against the wall so he could see the room and any threat that might be coming. Once you both were seated, he slid his hood back, revealing his white hair.

The noise of the crowd behind you dimmed, as their attention was drawn to where you sat. Looking over your shoulder, you saw that half the room was gaping at Geralt, most with open hostility.

"Ignore them." You grumbled, turning back to face your drinking partner.

"Always do." The corner of Geralt's mouth tilted up in almost a smile. You wished, not for the first time, that you knew what he was thinking, but he was so hard to read.

"What can I get for you, dearies?" Glinda rushed over after pushing her way through the crowd.

"Two pints, and some of that stew you have cooking." Geralt nodded over to the large pot bubbling over the fire behind the bar.

"Thanks Glinda." You offered the bar maid another smile before she flitted off again. Staring at the spot where she disappeared, you worked up the courage to talk to the Witcher sitting across from you.

"Triss isn't around either." Geralt answered before you could figure out how to word your question in a way that didn't seem like prying.

"I wasn't trying to..." Your head snapped around as the words died on your tongue. "I heard Keira had found herself a Witcher. I suppose that's not you either."

"Keira Metz is off seeing the world with Lambert." Geralt confirmed what you already knew, but it had worked to buy you time to organize your thoughts.

"Why are you here, Geralt? And don't try to sell me on the herb search. We both know that's horse shite." You raised your eyebrow as you levelled him with a no nonsense look. "I know for a fact there aren't any Witcher contracts currently in circulation, so what is it?"

"I'm just following the Path, and if I see a friend along the way, is that such a crime?" Geralt tried to downplay his appearance on your doorstep.

"'Ere you go, dearies. Enjoy." Glinda set down their pints of ale along with a bowl of hit stew for each of them. And then she was off again to go take care of another customer.

"Depends on what you need with that friend." You tried to keep your emotions under control when you heard him call you a friend. You knew he would hear if your heartrate picked up, but there wasn't anything you could do to stop it from happening.

Geralt took a long draw from his ale, seeming to ponder how to respond. You tucked into your stew as you waited. Eyeing him from under your lashes, you contemplated throwing him a bone. But neither of you said anything as you enjoyed your meal.

You had forgotten what being around him was like. The long stretches of silence. The grunted responses. The alertness that never seemed to leave him entirely. And then there were the things he did for you. The comfort of knowing you had support if you needed it. The confidence he had in your ability that boosted your own.

"I was in Novigrad and heard Dandelion sing a tale of Ciri's exploits in the South." You broke the silence once you were done your stew. In the grand scheme of things, it didn't matter why he had found you. It was just nice to catch up with an old friend.

"He is going to make her more famous than I am." Geralt grumbled, but you could tell he was proud. And who wouldn't be? Ciri had grown into quite the spectacular woman, and was off following the Path as the only female Witcher.

"I'm glad she made it out of the White Frost safely." You reached across the table to give Geralt's hand a quick but comforting squeeze. The woman he loved as a daughter had almost died saving the world. It was no small feat.

There was a brief moment when your eyes met, and you thought he was finally going to tell you why he had searched you out. But you watched the fleeting moment disappear, and the look in his eyes became closed off once again. Pulling your hand back, you sighed.

"Well, now that you have bought me a meal and a pint, I guess it is time to head home." You pushed your chair back from the table. Nodding your thanks, you turned to make your way back through the crowd.

"Hey Glinda." You called over the din of the tavern patrons once you made it to the bar. Once you had her attention, you slid a couple of coins across the bar top toward her. "Make sure my friend has everything he wants."

"Aye, dearie." Glinda smiled, her round cheeks tinged red from the heat of the tavern. She pocketed the coins before anyone got the funny idea of trying to steal them.

"How much?" The foul smell of vomit and body odor surrounded you as a man leaned over, burying his nose in your hair.

"Excuse me?" You tried to shove him away, but for someone so drunk, his grip was awfully strong. "Get your hand off me!"

Magic lit in your palm, something you didn't do often. A little display of magic was usually enough to knock some sense into a person. It seemed to backfire this time, as he dug his finger tips painfully into your arm, causing you to wince. You were just about to let a small spark escape your palm, when you felt a presence behind you.

"I believe the lady would like to be let go." Geralt kept his voice low, but the threat was loud and clear.

"What's it to you, Mutant?" The drunk turned his attention to Geralt, loosening his grip enough in his distraction for you to slip away from him.

"It's okay, Geralt." You placed a hand in the centre of his chest as he took a step toward the man. "Let's go home."

Geralt glared at the man for a beat longer than you liked as you watched other patrons gather behind the drunk in solidarity. You didn't doubt Geralt could handle them, but you also wanted to be able to stay in this village after tonight. Tapping your fingers on his chest, the small gesture was enough to get him to look at you.

"Let's go." Your voice was firm, and he seemed to respond to it. Nodding, he followed you out of the tavern and into the cooling night. "I know you are used to that reaction, but those are my neighbours and customers in there."

"All of whom just heard you say you were taking me home with you." Geralt practically growled. He gave the tavern one last glare before following you down the road to your place.

"Well I can't trust you anywhere else here right now." You threw your hands up in exasperation. "Gods Geralt! Do you even care that you almost blew it for me in there?"

"Of course I care." Geralt grabbed your unharmed arm firmly, spinning you to face him. "Do you honestly think I don't care?"

"I... I..." You floundered as you searched for the right words. But words had never been what Geralt cared about. Looking up into his glaring golden orbs, you made a decision.

Grabbing the back of his neck, you brought his face crashing down on yours. Your lips met in a furious kiss as you both took your frustrations out on each other. Punishing each other for things that hadn't been said. His teeth grazed your lower lip, ripping a moan from your chest. Your grip on his neck shifted to his hair, pulling on it. Growling against your lips, he pulled her body flush to his.

The Inn door slamming closed was the ice water that brought you back to reality. And the reality was, you were standing in the street making out with a Witcher in full view of the neighbours you wanted to impress. Pushing him away, you straightened your clothes.

"Let's get you home." Geralt cleared his throat before he spoke.

"Good idea." You stomped off in the direction of your house, trying not to care if he followed.

[itsclydebitches]

Godddddd I'm so upset that I dislike yen this much, doing main quests in skellige and Freyas ppl were doing stuff and she again disrespected other cultures with Geraly being against, "I may be inhumanly beautiful" I know she's meant to be confident but wowww. She's not confident and worried for Ciri she just comes off arrogant and selfish and vain. Like, fuck.

The ultimate mood, anon. My Witcher fandom life would be so much easier if I enjoyed Yen ... but I just do not lol. Remember how I mentioned that things were going to get even worse than her stealing and using a potentially dangerous artifact? Yeeeaah. She also resurrects Ciri's friend to torture him for information, all while destroying another sacred garden to get the power to do it! It's not even a "She's so evil and I love it 😏" situation for me because the game tries so hard to convince us that she's still The Best. Geralt's sexy soulmate, Ciri's adoring mother, the baddest bitch around who gets things done and does it with an effortless confidence... all while ignoring how horrific her actions and attitude are. Oh sure, other characters speak ill of her at times, but considering how much Geralt is written to adore her, no matter what you choose, that's all undermined. I love morally gray/evil characters, but I've never enjoyed them when the text refuses to appropriately acknowledge that side of them. Nothing is more frustrating to me than a story that frames disliking a character as the unambiguously wrong thing to do, especially when the text is piling up reasons to dislike them and, as a result, ignoring or shrugging them off their actions as not that bad. Yen is a rather extreme example of that for me. Despite her attitude, her choices, and other characters outright going, "Why do you like her?" the story as a whole works under the assumption that it's correct to like her anyway because Geralt loves her. And he loves her for... reasons.

They do meet before the wish, but only just. Major "The Last Wish" spoilers in this paragraph, so feel free to skip. Basically, Geralt and Dandelion run into trouble with a djinn, he goes to Yen for help since she's a sorceress (first time meeting her), he instantly falls for her because she's gorgeous and such (there's an elf there who is also madly in love with Yen. Men just... fall for her, instinctually), she heals Dandelion, Geralt agrees to pay her, but Yen has already decided on the payment she wants. She takes control of Geralt's mind and forces him to attack the town to seek revenge on those who have insulted her, resulting in him waking up in prison awaiting execution for "his" crimes. Meanwhile, Yen has gone after the djinn for herself because power/trying to regain her ability to have a kid. Geralt escapes, finds her failing to master the djinn (an attempt which btw has endangered the whole town) and despite what she's done to him, Geralt tries to get Yen to escape with him. She refuses, set on capturing the djinn even though it's obvious she can't. So as a last resort he uses the final wish to bind their fates together, saving Yen from the djinn in the process. Aaaaaand then they have sex.

So yeah, their rocky relationship is one of the main reasons why I can't enjoy Yen. For some their tumultuous history is evidence of realism, for me it's evidence that they're not actually very compatible and they're only together because a) that's the fantasy trope: protagonist men get together with the hot sorceress and b) because the magic is literally ensuring that they can't escape one another. I mean, canonically their fates are tied together by magic and canonically they spend about 20 years swinging between passionate love and fearsome fights... but there's supposedly no connection between these two things? No chance at all that they keep coming together because magic is drawing them rather than because they actually want/should be together? I wrote a meta a while back about the short story where they meet, which includes a present day scene where Geralt is criticized by another character — Nenneke — for running out on Yen. Thing is, he tries to explain that he left because she was "too possessive" and this is... flat out ignored. By both Nenneke and the fandom. There's a strong trend of ignoring Geralt's words in favor of a pro-Yen interpretation of events. He says he left because she was too possessive and she treated him like ____ — he's not allowed to finish the sentence and say what she treated him like because Nenneke interrupts him, saying she doesn't care about his version of events. Major yikes imo! She turns a claim of being possessive into Geralt not being man enough to stick around. The fandom likewise turns this into a case of Geralt getting cold feet and running out because he's a bastard who hates commitment. Likewise, Nenneke and the fandom claim Geralt is trying to get Yen money as a way of appeasing his guilt for leaving, he claims he's doing it simply because he still cares for her — even if he doesn't want to be with her — and knows she needs it. Geralt's words are frequently dismissed, in the same way others characters' opinions of Yen are dismissed. Any mark against her is treated as either a lie, or a convoluted claim that they don't really know her... never mind that an understanding of why she may act this way doesn't excuse the behavior itself. (Plus, the whole "Yen had a horrible upbringing, so of course she struggles being kind" perspective always fell flat to me when so many, including witchers, had horrendous upbringings too. The whole point is this world is a mess and most everyone suffers). It's supposedly true love, yet if someone came up to me and went, "I magically tied my fate to this woman to keep her from getting herself killed and we've spent the last couple decades having what many would term a rocky relationship, to put it kindly. I left once because she was too controlling. She once cheated on me. I likewise hooked up with others during our frequent breakups. A mutual friend used magic to get me to have sex with her — also while my lover and I were broken up — and though I view it as a dumb decision I'm happy to forgive her for, my lover is ready to commit murder because again: possessive. A lot of the time we're only a family because of our daughter. I once thought she'd horrifically betrayed us both. She didn't, but it says something that I was so ready to believe it, huh? Hmm? Permanently separated? Of course not! I love her. We're destined to be together after all :)" I'd be like, "Uh... you sure about that, dude?"

Not that Geralt doesn't make his fair share of mistakes in the relationship — he absolutely does — but I don't think it helps his case that he's immature in other ways and, frankly, that he's a very strong, badass witcher. It's easy to turn the hints we get about their relationship into a simplistic "emotionally naive man can't give the poor woman the commitment she wants" situation. Given Geralt's status as the badass fighter of the tale, it's likewise easy to dismiss his admissions of her being "possessive" and his general discomfort. He's the man. He's the witcher. If he's making any claims about how Yen isn't treating him well, they must be excuses, or exaggerations, because real men, especially physically powerful men, would do something about that — a something that's not sneaking out in the middle of the night. A lot of people read Geralt leaving as the ultimate proof that he's an immature bastard who doesn't deserve her. I read him leaving and think, "What were you trying to get away from? What was going on that made you think you could only leave by sneaking out without a word?" To me, that doesn't read as someone who felt safe, comfortable, and respected enough to do anything but slip away and try to wash his hands of things. And I'm not just pulling this "Geralt is at least somewhat afraid of Yen and isn't comfortable establishing boundaries with her" reading out of my ass. When Yen wants Geralt to kill the golden dragon for her and he refuses, saying he doesn't care anymore, his thoughts are:

He expected the worst: a cascade of flames, flashes of lightning, blows raining down on his face, insults and curses. There was nothing. He saw, with astonishment, only the subtle trembling of her lips. Yennefer turned around slowly. Geralt regretted his words.

And everyone is like, "See! Yen has improved so much. Geralt nearly made her cry, but she's supposed to be the bad guy here?" Meanwhile, I'm going, "Uh... anyone want to unpack why he expects fire, lightning, insults, curses, and blows to his face for telling her no? Why he's astonished that she wouldn't use her magic against him? Anyone think that Yen refraining from attacking Geralt when he refuses to murder on her command is a pretty low bar? No? Just me?"

Geralt and Yen's relationship makes me uncomfortable and a great deal of that discomfort derives from how much of the Witcher fandom shrugs off the fictional warning signs. I mean, I post primarily about RWBY. We watched a man in that show try to sneak away with his kids when his villainous wife planned to use them for a eugenics plan... and the fandom still blames him for that, refusing to admit that he was in an abusive relationship. Because that doesn't happen to men, right? I'm not saying it's the same for Geralt and Yen, simply because they are written to be soulmates. An abusive relationship was, quite obviously, never the authorial intent. However, I am saying that the a "This isn't a healthy relationship" reading is there, it exists as an interpretation, and both the story and fandom's tendency to dismiss it is something that hasn't helped me enjoy Yen's status as an otherwise well written, complex character. Their equality supposedly stems in part because they're both so flawed, yet each time I see a list of Geralt's supposedly equal faults they're... lacking imo. "Geralt bound himself to Yen without her consent." Yeah, to save her from dying from the djinn she was trying to enslave, after she refused to leave, while her actions threatened a whole town. "Geralt ran off without a word." Mmm hmm, anyone care about why? And my personal favorite is a scene you may not have gotten to yet (or may not get depending on your choices), but suffice to say, Yen is supposedly justified in physically attacking Geralt if he dares to challenge her in any way. That's the main takeaway across the fandom: If Yen is pissed off, you must have done something to deserve it which, in the relationship deliberately written to be "stormy," is something that sets all the alarm bells in my head off. Honestly, it kinda makes my skin crawl to go, "Geralt didn't deserve that" and get responses back of, "Yeah he did because he [insert basic human action here]." The Witcher world is hard and cruel, absolutely, but that doesn't mean I personally enjoy seeing an equally messed up relationship presented as something that's enviable in its flaws. "That's actually true love because the magically bound man who often expresses discomfort with his lover, written by a male author with a very iffy perspective on women, says it's true love." Crazy theory here, but... maybe it's not?

Idk, lots of rambling on my end tonight! For me, Geralt/Yen reads as something rather tragic which, in a canon that unironically upholds the relationship, and in a Yen-adoring fandom, doesn't make enjoying her character any easier. I keep coming back to Witcher 3, the comics, the show, even the books going, "Maybe I'll like her this time?" but nope, still trying lol.

[dechart]

Better travel companion

aka: part 2 of me overanalyzing dialogue.

Geralt's jab about the woman (the one who killed a man for trying to steal Roach) making for a better travel companion is ignored by Jaskier (and by the audience!) and Jas just changes the subject without replying to Geralt, which is very unlike him. The only reason I can think of him doing that is because he really was hurt. Jaskier, always with a retort ready on his lips, was left unable to reply to Geralt and so he ignores the insult entirely. Except... he doesn't. And this is what hurts even more.

Because later on in the episode, with the very bromantic scene on the rocks, Jaskier says they could head to the coast.. if he proves himself to be a worthy travel companion. Now we can really see how deeply that hurt him. He remembered that, saved it in his mind, and it probably felt like a real burden to him. He admires Geralt so much that not only did he forgive him - without Geralt ever asking for forgiveness about that insult, which as we stated clearly hurt Jaskier - but he also made a note to himself about improving in order to seem worthy to Geralt(!!!). Talking about dedication...

We can also look at this late reply as some sort of sarcasm, but the main point still stands - it hurt him so much he literally couldn't reply right away. And this is when it hits us, the audience - when we see that scene on the rocks.

And we're still talking canon here, wow. I don't know how many scenes like this we've overlooked but I'm happy to not even read between the lines. (It's right there!)

[splendidlyimperfect]

title: i’ll let you in (but i’m so scared of what you’ll see)  author: splendidlyimperfect prompt #: day 3 (protection) summary: Geralt is weird about touch, and Jaskier is determined to find out why. word count: 2804 books/netflix/show/video game: netflix triggers/warnings: geralt has some issues with consent but it’s a theme not an event rating: teen and up additional notes: touching, consent issues, explicit consent, hair washing/brushing, minor injuries, hand holding, emotional hurt/comfort

-----

Geralt is weird about touch.

Jaskier expects him to hate it. He’s been around plenty of people in his travels, and Geralt seems like the kind of person who would break someone’s wrist before letting them hold his hand. Not that Jaskier’s tried to hold his hand – he’s brash, not stupid. But he’s an affectionate person, and that extends to Geralt, even by accident.

The thing is, Geralt doesn’t seem to mind. At first, it’s little things – a hand on the small of Geralt’s back when he passes by, a light touch on his forearm when Jaskier’s telling a story, bumping shoulders or knocking feet under a table. Jaskier is allowed to grab Geralt’s arm for balance or sit next to him at the campfire with their thighs pressed together.

What’s even stranger is that Geralt seems to like it. He’ll tip his head into Jaskier’s hand while Jaskier is washing his hair or lean in when Jaskier sits next to him and puts a hand on his knee. He never says anything and neither does Jaskier, but it becomes a sort of routine for them.

Continue reading on AO3

And that would be the end of the story, except for two strange things that leave Jaskier feeling unsettled. One, Geralt is never the one to initiate the touch. Ever. It’s not that Geralt won’t touch Jaskier, it’s just that whenever he does, it’s only for long enough to get him out of harm’s way. Geralt will grab Jaskier’s shoulder and drag him away from monsters or lift Jaskier onto Roach when he’s cold and sick. He’ll push Jaskier out of the way of danger, help him up a difficult climb with a hand on his elbow, or pull him away from the edge of something dangerous by the back of his doublet.

But when Jaskier is not in immediate danger, Geralt won’t touch him. In fact, sometimes it’s the exact opposite, and he’ll go out of his way to not touch Jaskier which ends up with them doing some sort of ridiculous dance around the campfire or the room at the inn to give each other space.

“It’s okay,” Jaskier tries to say one time when Geralt holds onto his arm for a few seconds too long after catching him tripping over a rock, then pulls back like he’s been burned. “What’s wrong?”

Geralt grunts and shakes his head, then stalks off to collect more firewood.

Jaskier sighs and continues to set up camp.

The second thing that Jaskier notices is that even when Geralt is uncomfortable with being touched, he never says ‘no.’ The first time it happens, they’re in an inn in some town with a name that Jaskier can’t remember. Jaskier’s off playing for the crowd when he sees a young woman leaning against Geralt’s table, her hand resting on his shoulder as she talks to him. Jaskier can’t see Geralt’s face from where he’s standing, but he knows, somehow, that Geralt is not happy about this.

When he tries to bring it up later that night, Geralt stares at him blankly, then shrugs before rolling over and going to sleep.

After that, Jaskier sees it more often. A lord will leave his hand on Geralt’s arm for too long and Geralt’s jaw will tighten, but he won’t push the man away. Some drunkard in the tavern will slap Geralt’s shoulder and while his expression will shift to something unpleasant, he won’t remove the offending hand (with his sword or otherwise).

So Jaskier waits and watches. He’s more careful with his touches – he would absolutely never touch Geralt if he said ‘no,’ Jaskier is not that kind of man and it makes him sick to think about it. But while Geralt never says ‘no,’ he also never touches Jaskier, and the whole thing is a confusing clusterfuck that Jaskier is determined to figure out. 

~

“You,” Jaskier says one evening after Geralt returns to their room at the inn, drenched in something reddish-brown that Jaskier doesn’t want to think about, “need a bath.”

“Hm.”

Eloquent as ever. Jaskier rolls his eyes, gesturing to the hot water he’s already had prepared. Geralt has been tense and grouchy all day, and Jaskier’s hoping that, in addition to washing off the monster guts, a bath will help him relax.

Geralt sighs when he sinks into the warm water, closing his eyes and tipping his head back. His hair is tangled and full of things Jaskier would rather not think about, and it desperately needs to be washed. Normally, Jaskier would sit down and start scrubbing without a second thought, but now he pauses.

“Can I help you?” he asks, sitting down on the stool next to the tub. Geralt opens an eye and frowns at him. “With your hair,” Jaskier clarifies, gesturing to the tangled mess.

“You always help me,” Geralt says, which isn’t exactly the response Jaskier’s looking for.  

“Well, yes,” Jaskier says, leaning onto the edge of the tub but not touching Geralt. “But you’ve been a bit… touchy today.” He flicks water at Geralt’s chest. “You scowled so hard at the innkeeper that I was certain he was going to faint.”

Geralt’s brow furrows further. “How is that related to bathing?” he asks.

“No, not…” Jaskier sighs. “I thought perhaps you’d appreciate some space.”

“Space?”

“Yes, Geralt. If you’d prefer to be alone, I can leave for a bit. Not all night, mind you – it’s been a week since I’ve slept in a bed and I’ll be damned if I spend another—”

“Jaskier.”

“Yes?”

“I don’t understand what this has to do with my hair.”

Jaskier sighs. “Look, when I’m in a mood – and you are in a mood, don’t try to deny it – I don’t always want people touching me. It’s suffocating, sometimes. Which is why I’m asking if you want my help or would prefer to be left alone.”

Geralt doesn’t answer right away. The perplexed expression stays on his face and he looks down at the surface of the water, then back up at Jaskier. “I… like it when you help me.”

Jaskier tries to keep a smile from stealing across his face. “I like helping you,” he says, dipping his fingers in the water and splashing some at Geralt.

“So…”

“Do you want me to help you?”

“I just said I did.”

“You didn’t, though,” Jaskier says, shaking his head. “You said you liked it. Just because you like something doesn’t mean you want it all the time.” He can feel the confused frustration radiating from Geralt, so he tries different tactic. “Like wine, for example. I love wine, it’s delicious and makes me feel good, but some days I just don’t want it, or perhaps I’ve had too much, or maybe I’ve eaten something that doesn’t agree with me and—”

“Jaskier.”

“Right, yes, sorry. My point is that sometimes I don’t want wine, even though I like it, so when someone asks me if I want some, I say ‘no.’ Even if last time I said ‘yes.’”

Geralt is quiet for a long time, eventually letting out a sigh and nudging Jaskier’s hands in the water. “Yes,” he says roughly. “I want your help.”

“Okay,” Jaskier says, giving Geralt a bright smile. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”

~

After that, Geralt is slightly more vocal about what he wants. If he notices that Jaskier asks him for permission nearly every time they touch, he doesn’t mention it. He rarely says ‘no,’ which Jaskier takes as a good sign, but Geralt still won’t initiate touch. Jaskier gives him plenty of opportunities – leaving his hand settled between them while sitting by the campfire, sitting close but not quite touching at a table – but Geralt never makes a move.

Two weeks later, Jaskier finally gets an answer. They’re fighting an ankheg, which is basically a cross between an enormous praying mantis and the things from Jaskier’s worst nightmares – and Jaskier nearly loses his right ear. Geralt makes short work of the creature, then slings Jaskier’s arm over his shoulder and helps him back to camp, cursing under his breath the whole time.

“’s not so bad,” Jaskier says weakly, wincing as he leans back against a stone. Geralt grunts, taking Jaskier’s hand and pressing it against the torn shirt over the wound.

“Stay here.”

“Ah, yes,” Jaskier says, using his other hand to wipe away the blood dripping over his eye. “I was planning on going… to… a place…”

“Jaskier.” Geralt reappears, crouching down in front of Jaskier. “Be quiet.”

“Look,” Jaskier says, but he can feel the words softening and slurring as they slip from his lips. “I…”

Geralt shushes him again. “Hold still,” he says. “This will hurt.” Then gently removes the shirt from the wound and, before Jaskier can protest, tips the wineskin over it to rinse it.

“Son of a—” Jaskier grits his teeth, grabbing Geralt’s forearm and breathing heavily through his nose.

“It’s not too deep,” Geralt says roughly. “Only a few sutures.”

“Lovely,” Jaskier mumbles, then falls forward against Geralt and faints.

~

When he comes to, Jaskier is warm and comfortable. He’s covered with a blanket and laying against something soft, and he can feel gentle fingers combing through his hair. When he cracks one eye open, it takes him a second to orient himself and realize that he’s lying near the fire with his head in Geralt’s lap.

As soon as Geralt realizes Jaskier’s awake, he tenses.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, pulling his hand away from Jaskier’s hair. He starts to shuffle away and Jaskier reaches up, grabbing his wrist and stopping him.

“Geralt,” he says slowly, staring up into dark, uncertain eyes. “It’s okay.”

Geralt doesn’t look convinced. “You kept moving,” he says roughly, tugging at Jaskier’s grasp on his wrist. “In your sleep. I didn’t want you to tear the sutures.”

Jaskier winces at the mention of the wound behind his ear, but he pushes away the dull pain to focus on the incredibly uncomfortable expression on Geralt’s face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks gently. Geralt opens his mouth, then closes it again, then turns away and glares at the fire as if it’s somehow at fault for this predicament. “Geralt.” He grunts and refuses to look back at Jaskier. “Why do you hate touching me?”

That drags Geralt’s gaze back, but now the uncertainty in his expression is muddied with confusion. “What?”

“You hate touching me,” Jaskier says again. It’s strange, looking at Geralt upside down, but Jaskier’s sure that if he moves, Geralt will run away and they’ll never talk about this again. “Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” The answer is quick and decisive.

“Then why are you pulling away?”

“I’m—”

“I like it,” Jaskier says, hoping the hot flush in his cheeks is obscured by the dim light of the fire. “I like you touching my hair. It’s nice.” He makes sure Geralt is looking at him before adding, “I want you to.”

Geralt huffs. “I’m not…” He growls, rubbing his face. “I’m not like you.”

Jaskier frowns. “What do you mean?”

“I’m not…” He sighs, staring down at Jaskier’s hand on his wrist. “Gentle.”

“You’re not gentle?”

“Mm.”

Jaskier is quiet for a moment, studying Geralt’s face. “Why would you say that?”

Geralt mumbles something that Jaskier doesn’t quiet catch.

“Geralt, you have to—”

“I’m not human,” Geralt growls, pulling his hand away. “My hands are for killing and hunting and breaking things. They hold swords and break bones and choke the life from monsters. They—”

“Save lives,” Jaskier interrupts, slowly pushing himself up until he’s kneeling in front of Geralt. He reaches out and takes Geralt’s hand in both of his, holding it between them and running his thumbs across Geralt’s palm. “Geralt, you’re not a monster.”

“Tell that to everyone else.”

“I do!” Jaskier insists. “All the time! Do you even listen to the songs I write?”

“They’re just stories,” Geralt grumbles, shaking his head. “None of it—that’s not how it happens.”

“Not always,” Jaskier concedes. “That’s because the truth isn’t always ballad-worthy. But you are.”

Geralt makes a frustrated sound but doesn’t pull away from Jaskier’s gentle touch.

“The fact that you’re worried about hurting me proves that you’re not a monster,” Jaskier says, curling Geralt’s fingers over his. “Your hands do wonderful things. They build fires to keep us warm, they feed Roach, they carry me out of danger, they sew up wounds. They save people.” He carefully brings Geralt’s hand up to his mouth and presses a soft kiss to the knuckles. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“You should be,” Geralt insists, but he doesn’t pull away. “Everyone else is.”

“Everyone else is an idiot,” Jaskier says, rolling his eyes. “And you are too, if you think you’re some broken monster who only hurts things. I trust you with my life. You’ve never given me any reason not to. In fact, I feel safer with you than without you.”

Geralt is quiet for a long time. The only indication that he’s been listening is the way he tips his hand and begins to slowly run his thumb across Jaskier’s knuckles, but it’s enough.

“You feel safe with me,” he says eventually, gaze still focused on the fire. It’s not really a question, but Jaskier nods anyway, just in case. “You enjoy me touching you.” Another nod. “And you like… touching me, as well?”

“Yes, but only if you want me to.”

“Like the wine,” Geralt replies, nodding thoughtfully.  

“Yes.” Jaskier chews on his bottom lip, hoping that the look on Geralt’s face means he understands. “Yes, like the wine. And if you never wanted… wine again, that would be fine. Wine isn’t necessary, it’s just nice, but I also like water. So if I was thirsty, I wouldn’t necessarily need…” He trails off, frowning.

“Your metaphor is confusing,” Geralt says helpfully.

“Yes, I’m starting to realize that,” Jaskier says. “What I mean is that you don’t owe me – or anyone – anything.”

Geralt contemplates the statement. “You’re kind to me,” he says, voice low as he keeps his eyes on the fire, just past Jaskier’s shoulder.

Jaskier’s heart crumples a little. “I’m kind to you because it’s the right thing to do and you deserve it,” he says gently. “Not because I’m trying to… get in your pants, or anything like that.”

Geralt raises an eyebrow. “Pants?”

Jaskier huffs. “Honestly, if you don’t know how I feel about you by this point, you’re a bigger idiot than I thought.” He frowns at Geralt. “You do know, don’t you?”

“I might,” Geralt says uncertainly. His thumb is still rubbing absently across Jaskier’s knuckles.

“Well, just so that we’re crystal clear,” Jaskier says, “I care for you. I’m very fond of you, in fact, and I enjoy touching you – if you want me to – and I enjoy it when you touch me.” Geralt doesn’t say anything, but Jaskier’s fairly certain he can see a hint of a smile at the corner of Geralt’s lips. “And,” Jaskier adds, sitting back on his heels, “even if you never wanted me to touch you, I would still care for you. My feelings aren’t dependent on… this.” He gestures at their joined hands.

Geralt is silent for a while, then exhales in a quiet hum. Jaskier sees right through it to the question underneath – you trust me?

“I do,” he says, laughing at the look of surprise on Geralt’s face.

“Hm.”

“Yes.”

A yawn catches Jaskier by surprise and he realizes, suddenly, how exhausted he is.

“Right,” he says, rubbing his face. “I think that’s enough talking for now, don’t you? Of course you do, you think anything more than monosyllables is too much.”

Geralt rolls his eyes, then leans back against the log. There’s a silent question in the way he doesn’t let go of Jaskier’s hand.

“I would very much like it,” Jaskier says, “if I could sleep with my head in your lap and you would touch my hair like you were doing before. Is that all right with you?”

“Yes,” Geralt says.

“And perhaps,” Jaskier adds lightly as he settles down, “tomorrow you might let me kiss you.”

Geralt doesn’t answer at first, just settles down and starts to run his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. The touch is so careful that Jaskier barely feels it – like Geralt thinks Jaskier might break if he pushes too hard. Jaskier sighs at the sensation, tipping his head back and staring at the stars that are spilled across the night sky.

Just before he falls asleep, he hears Geralt’s voice, barely louder than the crackling of the fire.

“Tomorrow,” he says softly, “I just might.”

[mysterious-blood-pyramid]

The Analysis of Her Sweet Kiss

So I was thinking about The Witcher produced by Netflix, specifically the song Her Sweet Kiss in the series, which is canonically created by Jaskier.

Here is the song for reference:

“The fairer sex, they often call it

But her love's as unfair as a crook

It steals all my reason

Commits every treason

Of logic, with naught but a look

A storm breaking on the horizon

Of longing and heartache and lust

She's always bad news

It's always lose, lose

So tell me love, tell me love

How is that just?

But the story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss

Her sweet kiss

But the story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss

Her current is pulling you closer

And charging the hot, humid night

The red sky at dawn is giving a warning, you fool

Better stay out of sight

I'm weak my love, and I am wanting

If this is the path I must trudge

I welcome my sentence

Give to you my penance

Garrotter, jury and judge

But the story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss

Her sweet kiss

The story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss

But the story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss

Her sweet kiss

But the story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss

The story is this

She'll destroy with her sweet kiss”

In the fourth stanza of the song, it describes 3 characters. The first character depicted is called “her,” specifying a woman who dangerous because of her allure in particular. The second character is identified as “you” who is the true main focus of the story despite the song being entitled Her Sweet Kiss, which would normally lead one to think that it would be about the woman. It is not however, and this brings us to the 3rd character mentioned in the song, the individual that is talking about the “you” is an entirely different character, describing themself as “I.”

As denoted before, the “her” is credited as someone who is powerfully beautiful, the “you” is given the title of Garroter, an individual who is a killer, slayer of animal and/or people. The final character, the narrating “I” if you will, is the lover of the “you” in the story as specified by the narrator in the line “I’m weak my love, and I am wanting” characterizing the “you” in the story instead of the “her” in the story because the “l” states that they are suffering from their lovers actions, which is revealed in the last 3 sentences of the 4th Stanza.

Through the 4th Stanza alone, the story is uncovered as an epic romance, revealing betrayal, pain, and loyalty to the end. The lover of the individual in love with a woman who is known to cause trouble, and the narrator is willing to suffer the lonely path of simply watching their love fall in love with another despite their pleas with their lover to do otherwise. They watch unable to stop the one they love from experiencing heartbreak, and are forced to deal with this over and over again, as noted in the final chorus “But the story is this, she’ll distory with her sweet kiss, her sweet kiss.” This is not the song of a fellow who is in a troubled romance with a woman who is feckle, it is the story of someone in love with the individual who is in love with a feckle woman, and has to deal the aftermath with the individual and feels they can do nothing but watch as the love of their life’s heart is broken from the lack of love from another. Therefore, Her Sweet Kiss is not a romance but a tragedy of a unfulfilled romance.

If we are to consider the characters logically from the series, the individuals mentioned in the song are quite easy to pick out once the song is analyzed. The “her” in the story is considered to be beautiful and cruel due to her playing with the emotions of the Garroter, which can only be Yennefer. The “you” also referred to as Garroter, slayer of man and beast, is Geralt because of his obvious associations with being a monster slayer and “Butcher [of Blaviken].” The “I” is the singer of this sorrowful serenade and we can identify that individual as Jaskier, who in this story admits his emotions for the “Garroter,” to be his “jury and judge.”

Anyways thanks for coming to my Ted Talk, so do what you will with this information and have a nice day.

[littleturtle95]

“People,” Geralt turned his head, “like to invent monsters and monstrosities. Then they seem less monstrous themselves. When they get blind-drunk, cheat, steal, beat their wives, starve an old woman, when they kill a trapped fox with an axe or riddle the last existing unicorn with arrows, they like to think that the Bane entering cottages at daybreak is more monstrous than they are. They feel better then. They find it easier to live.”

“Looks like everything is perfectly dry, Geralt. But where did all that water go? How does the tide bloody work? Have you ever asked yourself that?”

“No. I've had other things on my mind.”

Dandelion trembled slightly:

“I think the lowest depths of the bloody ocean hide an enormous monster, a revolting scaly beast, a huge toad with horns on its repulsive face. From time to time, he swallows the water along with everything that lives in it: fish, seals, turtles, everything. After he swallows it all, he makes water: that's the tide. What do you think?”

“I think you're a complete idiot.”

“I'm sorry you didn't have a life. But if truth be told, you're not missing much. I know it's easy for me to say with warm breath in my lungs, and you with nothing. Still, what would you have had? Parents? Well, they're the ones who wrote your last act, so not much lost there. Friends? Most likely fair weather. Lovers? Fun for a bit, I'll admit, but all eventually disappoint. And let's face it, you're a girl. Your mother was right about one thing. We're just vessels. And even when we're told we're special, as I was, as you would've been, we're still just vessels, for them to take, and take, until we're empty, and alone. So, count yourself lucky. You've cheated the game and won without even knowing it.”

[hawthornewhisperer]

Hi! I love your writing! I'm enjoying Geralt and Yennefer fics so much! Can you maybe write them in something like CEO rivals to lovers with smut please?

Also on Ao3.

Yennefer barely even looked up from her phone as she stepped into the elevator.  She’d had long day of meetings and had a giant stack of contracts to review tonight, and she was exhausted.  She couldn’t wait to get out of her heels and the sharply-tailored black dress she poured herself into at the ungodly early time of five am this morning.  At least when she was home, she could put on leggings, take off the strapless bra, and pour herself a glass of wine the size of her head before she plowed through the stack of paperwork that would probably keep her up until at least one.  It sucked, but that’s what came from running your own company— endless work, and no one she trusted to delegate it to.

There weren’t too many people left in the building at this time of night, and the two assistants in the elevator with her got off on the twelfth floor.  Yennefer didn’t look up then either, but out of the corner of her eye she saw them dance out of the way of an oncoming passenger.

Even if it weren’t for the distinctive hair, she would have recognized him by the width of his shoulders— and fine, the shape of his ass.  She was a mere mortal, after all, and everyone in the building knew Geralt of Rivia Continental Holdings had a world-class backside.

“Yen,” he said smoothly, as if they were friends and not mortal enemies.  She sniffed in response and leaned her shoulderblades against the wall, eyes still locked on her phone.

Okay, sometimes she was stealing peeks at that magnificent ass, but only because he couldn’t see her.

The elevator came to a jolting stop and her phone flew from her hands.  Yennefer lurched forward and would have face planted if Geralt hadn’t caught her.  His hands went to her waist and he set her back on her feet in a surprisingly graceful move for such a large man.

“You okay?”

“Like you care,” she sneered, pulling herself away.  His fingertips brushed her bare forearm and a bolt of electricity shot through her.

Geralt grunted and rolled his eyes.  He had his phone pressed to his ear almost immediately, and after a short conversation he hung up and sighed.  “Jaskier says power is out in the whole building. They’re on it, but the backup generator blew out during the last power outage, so it might be a bit.”

Yennefer scoffed.  “I’ll have to pass my thanks along to the building management on the excellent planning there.”

“And I’m sure you would have done much better,” he growled back.  He turned to face her and she drew herself up to her full height, thankful for her heels.  She wasn’t a short woman, but Geralt dwarfed her.

His size may or may not have been the subject of some of her more idle fantasies, but like hell she’d admit that to him. “I at least would have replaced the backup generator as soon as it went out.”

Geralt’s gaze dropped to her lips. “And cut power to the whole building for four days? That’s what it would take to install it, you know.”

“I would have found a way around it,” she said, licking her lips and watching him clench his jaw.

“Yeah, I  bet you would,” he said, and one minute they were standing six inches apart, glaring at each other, and the next they were kissing.  His hand cradled the back of her skill, keeping her close, but there was no chance of her backing away, not when he was kissing her like that.  She swept her tongue along his lower lip and he opened to her, stroking her tongue with his.

Geralt hoisted her into his arms and she tugged her dress up around her hips so he could fit more easily between her legs.  Her back slammed against the elevator wall and she dropped her head back to give him access to her throat.

Her eye snagged on a small black oval in the corner.  “Shit. Camera,” she muttered.

Geralt didn’t even look, just reached over and yanked it out with his bare hands.  “It's fine, I own the fucking building,” he growled against her skin, as if that wasn’t exactly why she’d been goading him.  His hands gripped her thighs and she scraped her teeth along the sharp line of his jaw, letting his weight pin her to the wall.

Two years ago when his company first moved into the building, Yennefer had made a bet with Triss whether Geralt would be good in bed.  As it turned out he was irritating and vaguely infuriating, yes, but also thorough and keenly attuned to his partner’s pleasure.

And with Geralt on his knees, his face buried between her thighs as he drove her to her third peak in ten minutes, Yennefer came to a realization.

She owed Triss $20.