#Jaskier is all angsty and worried hes a monster
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Prompt 140
"What?" Geralt asks, frowning, a furrow in his brow. "I turn into a wolf every full moon." Jaskier repeats. "How-" "You were always away on a hunt. You'd just meet me back in the morning." "...You were a werewolf this whole time?" "..Yes. I- I'm sorry, Darling. I never wanted to lie." "Why didn't you trust me with this? Did you think I would hurt you?" "No! I thought I would hurt you. I'm not myself on full moons, Geralt. I can't even remember them. All I know is that the moon raises, i feel this ache in my bones, and the next thing I know, I'm waking up the next morning, nude, with a full stomach of what is HOPEFULLY nothing gross." "...You've not transformed in towns, have you?" "No! Of course not! I'm terrified of hurting someone, Geralt! That's the only reason I'm telling you now! I got the charts mixed up, I thought the moon was still a week away, but it isn't, and we're near a town, and I need you to keep me restrained." A long pause settles between them. "You want me to guard you?" "Guard them. From me. Keep me trapped in a shack and- And lock it up tight. Chain me, hurt me, knock me out, whatever you must do. Keep me from being a danger. I never wanted to be a terrifying beast, Geralt." Jaskier says, with those damned wet doe eyes of his. Geralt agrees. Because he doesn't know a world where he wouldn't. Mere hours later, Jaskier is sat against a beam in an old rundown barn. He's tied up with rope, and chained on top of that. There are no windows in the barn, the door is fully barricaded and locked, and Geralt guards it. "You really should guard it from outside" Jaskier had said. "I'm not leaving you to do this alone. You never should have had to." Geralt replied. Thus, Geralt stands and watches as Jaskier pales and starts twitching. The moon is rising. "It's coming- I'm going to be a beast." Jaskier says with fear, before the transformation takes the air out of his lungs. Geralt watches in horror and awe as Jaskier's body changes, changes, changes.... In... Into a songbird? sitting on the ground is a fat little songbird. It easily hops over the ropes and chains, now much too lose to hold it. Him. Oh my gods. Jaskier's not a werewolf. He's a... were.... werebird... And not even a scary one. Jaskier starts pecking the barn floor and Geralt rubs a hand over his face in exhaustion. He prepared for the worst, and instead is treated to watching Jaskier struggle to bathe in a trough. "Jaskier, it's too deep." He tells the bird, as it fluffs up it's wings. "Jaskier, you're going to-" Jaskier tries to take a step into the birdbath, only to fall, dunking his whole fat little body into the depths of the trough. He flails about in the water, chirping panickedly. Geralt rushes to his aid, gently lifting him out of the water with gentle hands. Perhaps guarding over Jaskier will still be a challenge after all.
#geraskier#geralt x jaskier#geralt x dandelion#the witcher#geralt loves his bard!#fanfiction prompts#witcher fanfiction#writing prompts#requited unrequited love#friends to lovers#“werewolf” jaskier#Werebird jaskier#werebird#Jaskier is all angsty and worried hes a monster#and he turns into a phat littel byeurd#fluff and humor#humor and fluff#fluff and comedy#fluff#cute#sweet#sweet geralt#caring geralt#cursed jaskier#inhuman jaskier#nonhuman jaskier#creature jaskier#yes i am still incredibly sick but the heart wants what the heart wants#Jaskier: “I sure hope when im transformed i dont eat anything gross” (thinking: sentient species- gross monsters Geralt fights- etc)#Geralt now having to explain to him that he instead eats worms:
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♡ wip wednesday
summary: angsty, whumpy, no real resolution, 700ish words
♡♡♡
“You will do what you are told!” shouted Geralt.
“There it is,” Jaskier said quietly, stepping back, leaves crunching under his foot. The forest was quiet as he swallowed, adam’s apple bobbing. The silence was suddenly deafening, the peace in the dappled light of the forest like an unwelcome, scratchy blanket.
Geralt’s breath came short and fast in his chest, a rabbit’s pace that matched the speed of his heart. “What?”
“I will do what I’m told,” chuckled Jaskier. He flickered between Geralt’s eyes like he was searching for something. “I really am your whore, huh? For everything except… well, except whoring.”
Geralt blinked, anger rising up in him again. “I don’t–”
“If not, then one step above,” Jaskier snapped suddenly, fire flaring back up in his eyes. “You know nothing of friendship. Friendship is not this, this…” he spluttered for a moment. “Weighted give and take. I give you everything, Geralt, my care, my coin, my humiliation, all for what? A couple of songs? I could write a dozen ditties about the Countess and be brimming with riches within the week.”
Geralt’s face heated. He’d pondered that before, how attractive the thought of running off to some noble must seem to Jaskier, being surrounded by lovely adorers every minute, draped in fancy clothes and fed with all the fruit and meat he desired. How dismal travelling with Geralt must seem compared to that reachable paradise.
“You think saving me from your monsters is payment,” Jaskier spat. “And perhaps it is. For playing at bars where every drunk blacksmith paws at me like a whore just to pay for our meals.”
Geralt flinched.
“And maybe your protection covers the work I’ve done to fix your reputation,” he continued, eyes blazing. “And if we’re being generous, it probably also covers the beatings I’ve taken for what I couldn’t fix.”
Beatings. Geralt had never thought… sometimes Jaskier would come back from a night somewhere away from their shared room covered with bruises and stumbling like a drunk. Oh, I just found a convenient ditch to rest my head in for the night, don’t worry your pretty little head about it. Lying. He’d been lying.
“But what your protection does not cover, Geralt,” Jaskier snapped, “is the things I have paid to earn your friendship instead. Cleaning your armour. Stitching your wounds. Buying you things at the market just to cheer you up.”
Geralt swallowed. He opened his mouth.
Jaskier’s eyebrow quirked up, a challenge.
He shut it again. It was unfair, asking him to battle words with Jaskier, a man who played with them for a living. Especially when he couldn’t figure out the feelings to inspire the words in the first place.
“The witcher’s whore,” Jaskier repeated quietly, like he was testing the words in his mouth or telling a story. “Does what he’s told.”
Geralt stepped closer, growling under his breath. "Stop."
Jaskier would have normally backed down. De-escalated things with a joke, but today his chin jutted upward. Today fire brimmed in those blue eyes. "Yes sir," he bit out.
“Jaskier," he warned.
"General Geralt, sir," he continued. "My most excellent warlord!"
"Stop."
"Oh great Butcher-"
Something snapped, the words torn out of him: "Fucking stop!"
“Oh, yes, master,” mocked Jaskier, equally as loud, hand flourishing like he was about to bow.
Geralt’s face heated even more, helpless anger clawing at him. It felt wrong. Everything felt wrong - the skin on his body, the woods crashing with wind around them. “Jaskier, I am not your master, you are not my whore, I–”
“You like it,” he snarled, bitter like gin. “You like being the man in charge, the martyr at the head of the battle. So much responsibility, and oh, only you can bear it.”
“Jaskier.”
Jaskier snapped down into a full bow, hand across his pleated red chest. “Yes, sir! Am I dismissed, sir?”
“Stop it.”
“Yes sir, of course sir,” he mocked, looking to the ground as if chastised.
Geralt let out a frustrated growl, somewhere between a cry of anguish and a sob.
“Shall I clean your boots, sir?” Jaskier snapped, eyes glinting through his hair as he looked up, still half-bent into a bow. “Your armour? Shall I find you another whore to spend the night with?”
Geralt marched forward, vibrating with anger. “Fucking stop,” he growled, close to shouting. “Just– just stop–”
“Apologies, sir, I’ll do better, shall I take your belt for lashings?”
“Fucking hell, Jaskier!” Geralt grabbed his shoulders, determined to shake out whatever the fuck was making him talk that way.
Jaskier pulled his collar into his hands and kissed him.
Geralt had good reflexes and bad instincts. He pressed into it without a moment’s hesitation, drowning in Jaskier’s scent, the feeling of his soft lips opening to him, the warmth of his body pressed against his own.
Jaskier broke it, leaning back only an inch. “There,” he whispered. “Now you can take that from me too.”
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I'll probably never finish this, but i like where it was going!
♡icarus
#geraskier#geralt x jaskier#jaskier x geralt#jaskier the bard#jaskier witcher#witcher#the witcher (tv)#the witcher#geralt of rivia#angst#whump#angsty#jaskier whump#geralt whump#unfinished#fanfiction#fanfic#fanfic author#ao3 author
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for the drabble thing: “you weren’t there”
maybe post mountain geraskier? i’m in an angsty mood rn but whatever you wanna write will be good :)
Creatures of the Night (2)
It's the night of Jaskier and Valdo's wedding. Geralt needs to do something.
(endgame geraskier, background valdo/jaskier, angst, infidelity)
Previous | AO3
The Oxenfurt Observatory might just be the grandest building in Redania.
The great hall is decorated with countless flowers and candles, giving the ancient walls a soft glow. Through the tall glass ceiling, stars are shining in the clear night sky, the perfect weather for a wedding.
It must be Jaskier’s idea, to be handfasted at midnight, to have his guests slow-dance under the moon and the stars until dawn breaks. Their new life will begin when the candles burn out and the first ray of light spills into the room.
If only there’s a competition for the biggest romantic on the continent. Jaskier could win without breaking a sweat.
The room is being filled up with guests—mostly bards and professors, old schoolmates of the two grooms. After all, both Valdo and Jaskier are Oxenfurt’s children, which means everyone is dressed in the most colorful clothes one could imagine. In another word, the room is being filled up with Jaskiers, and it’s getting loud.
It’s more difficult to locate the bard himself through the din of the room, but Geralt hears him, unmistakably. Jaskier’s heartbeat approaches the Observatory, thrumming with nervousness.
No more nervous than Geralt.
He breathes in, and exits the room in a few strides. And there Jaskier is, surrounded by pale moonlight, with jasmine flowers braided into his hair and pure joy painted across his cheeks. He seems to be murmuring a private joke to Essi, and they both burst into strings of giggles.
Geralt almost backs out.
“Geralt!” Jaskier notices him. “You came! I was worried for a moment.”
“Of course.” Geralt gestures to the outfit he helped pick out. “You look nice.”
“Thank you. Now, Poppet, can you give us a few moments?” Jaskier sends Essi inside with the sweetest smile. She shoulders past Geralt a little too curtly. There’s always an air of wariness whenever Essi regards Geralt, an untrusting side-eye here and there.
“Don’t mind her.” Jaskier waves when they are left alone. “Little Eye is a tad too protective. She’ll get over it.”
“Hmm.” Geralt swallows hard. “Can we find somewhere more private? I want to talk to you.”
Jaskier blinks, but leads them away anyway until they are by the side of the road, the celebrating crowd and the orange glow of candlelight in the distance.
“Here to make sure I end up someone else’s problem, aren’t you? Don’t worry, in about half an hour, I will be legally required to only bother Valdo for the rest of eternity.” Jaskier nudges Geralt in the shoulder, a jasmine slipping by his ear.
Geralt rights it without thinking, his fingers trembling.
Gods, he can’t say it. He can’t. Jaskier is so happy and Geralt will only ruin their friendship. His second chance is too precious to be risked—
“No, actually,” Geralt heaves out a breath, his heart pounding. “The opposite."
Jaskier snorts, “And, my dear witcher, what is the opposite?”
Here it goes.
“I am in love with you.”
The words sink into the silence. Geralt’s world narrows down to the steady rise and fall of Jaskier’s chest and the little hitch in his breathing. In the darkness of the night, Jaskier’s eyes stay in the shadows, his emotions obscured.
“No, you are not.” When he finally answers, it comes out in a snort. “Ha! A good one, Geralt! And they say witchers don’t have a sense of humor, idiots!”
Jaskier lets out another dry laugh, although the waver in his voice betrays everything.
“I am,” Geralt stresses again, “in love with you, Jaskier.”
Jaskier is staring, the upturn of his lips freezing into shock, the rise and fall of his chest picking up into a frenzy and suddenly he’s breathing too fast. “You can’t. You just can’t…” Air seems to trap in his lungs and a salty tang of tears hits Geralt full-force.
“I wish I couldn’t love, like what they say, but Jaskier, I can and I do—”
“You can’t do this to me!” Jaskier shouts, crying openly. “No, no! You don’t get to tell me this now! We had twenty years…”
Geralt wants more than anything in the world to pull Jaskier into his arms and wipe away the tears, but the space between them is too great. “I didn’t know for twenty years, Jask. Forgive me. It was only after the mountain that I learned how important you were to me. I couldn’t go on like this—”
“The mountain?” Jaskier chokes out a whimper. “You realized after the mountain? You mean when I bared my heart to you and you stomped on it like it was nothing?”
Geralt shakes his head, the guilt constricting his chest. “I’m sorry. For all the pain I caused you.”
“For months I thought I was but a mistake to you, that you hated me for two decades and couldn’t wait to cast me aside like dirt stuck on your shoes. Do you even know… Geralt, do you have an ounce of idea what I went through?”
Jaskier sways and Geralt catches him in his arms, placing his head on his shoulders and feeling the uncontrollable shakes running down Jaskier’s spine. The sight of Jaskier hurt because of him, again, pains Geralt more than any monster’s claws or talons.
“I love you, Jaskier,” he vows. “You were never nothing to me. You are everything. I was an idiot. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”
Jaskier struggles and swats at his shoulders and Geralt takes it all the while murmuring more sweet nothings into his ear. Finally, when Jaskier calms down, it’s with another whimper. “You are an idiot.”
“I am.” Geralt cradles the nape of Jaskier’s neck, running his thumb in circles, soothing the last of the trembling away. “Just one word from you, Jask, I can take you away. You don’t have to marry him. Just give me the word and I’m yours. Gods, I’ve waited for so long for this day. At last, I’m sure of my heart, just as I’m sure of yours.”
He buries into Jaskier’s hair and inhales the grief and the flowers, and something that is distinctly Jaskier, expecting a whispered plea. Just one word from Jaskier and they can start their new life together.
What he doesn’t expect is the way Jaskier goes stiff in his arms and the hand that pushes him away.
The soft moonlight catches a glint in Jaskier’s eyes, and it speaks of determination. “Valdo,” he says, as if in a dream.
“You don’t have to marry him. We can lea—”
“Valdo will be here soon.” Jaskier sniffles and wipes at his tears frantically. His whole face is puffy from crying and there’s no way he can hide it. “It’s almost midnight.”
Geralt’s world comes to a stop.
“What?”
“Get inside, and don’t say anything about this.”
“I don’t understand. Jask, you don’t need to go through this anymore. I’ll give you anything you ask. Just say the words, please,” he begs for the first time in a century, catching Jaskier’s hand.
“I am saying it. Get inside. Sit in the back row and don’t speak to me. Valdo might be able to tell.” With a few deep breaths, Jaskier school his features back to neutral. “Only the gods know how he can read me like an open book.”
Geralt’s blood runs cold. “Do you love him?”
The anguish by the corner of Jaskier’s lips says everything. It remains as he smiles a crooked smile. “He loves me. Oh, Geralt, he loves me. I can’t hurt him like this.”
“I thought,” Geralt looks down in shame. “I thought I knew your heart.”
“I thought I did too.”
“Then why?”
“You weren’t there,” Jaskier shrugs like it’s the easiest explanation. “He was.”
Despite every cell in Geralt’s body screaming against it, he nods and lets go of Jaskier’s hand, allowing his limp fingers to slip from his grasp at last.
Jaskier has asked it of him after all.
He doesn’t know how he got back into the crowd, the warm light only a blur in his vision. Another group is stopping near the hall, among them is the other groom-to-be. Valdo’s worried voice when he sees Jaskier is another blow to Geralt’s chest.
“Oh, Julian, are you crying?”
“Just…too happy.”
There’s the sound of kissing, and Geralt can’t tune it out. He laughs at himself for the masochistic tendencies, but maybe he deserves the torture.
“No more tears. Let’s get married, my love.”
The guests settle, and the music begins.
The happy couple walks towards the altar in the witness of family and friends, and Geralt watches every moment of it.
If the smile on Jaskier’s face is a bit strained as the priest ties the ribbon, no one seems to notice.
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A big thanks to anon for the prompt! I asked for some one-word or one-sentence prompts and the next thing I knew they were connecting into a whole story.
Each chapter of this story will be based on a prompt, so send in one if you want to steer it in certain directions ;)
Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod
Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3
#geraskier#geraskier fic#angst#background valdo/jaskier#geralt x jaskier#weddnings#unrequited love#requited unrequited love#valdo marx#endgame geraskier#ignore the fact that glass ceilings weren't a thing back then#also 'Oxenfurt Observatory' looks so nice
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A Past Life *Geralt of Rivia x Reader*
Summary: could you write a female reader x Geralt who has PTSD due to past abuse and he accidentally triggers a flashback. It’s okay if you feel uncomfortable writing this, thank you for your time
Characters: Geralt & Jaskier
Pairings: Geralt x [F]Reader
Warnings: Nothing, except for Geralt yells at Reader and it triggers past memories of a man who was not so kind to her- she also flinches when he steps forward to help, makes the whole thing very angsty. They aren’t together in this, although I can do another part where they are because I have an idea for a sequel to this
“Look at us,” the sprightly voice interrupts the quiet, “three best friends, out and seeking adventure in this land.”
You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you, looking over your shoulder at the bard- who had hired you as an armed bodyguard whilst he sought adventures to sing about. What you didn’t expect was his ���best friend’ to be a Witcher, especially The Butcher of Blaviken.
“Hmm,” came the grunt of Geralt, on top of his horse, Roach, “you’re not my friend.”
The comment completely aimed at Jaskier. Although, what you’ve seen from these two it’s just their norm if anything. Jaskier annoys Geralt, Geralt, for some reason, puts up with Jaskier and sometimes even humours him.
“Excuse me?” Jaskier exclaims, “you’ve known Y/N, what, a day and she’s your friend over me? The bard who, not only, writes lovely ballads about you BUT,” he strides ahead and starts to walk backwards to look up at Geralt’s face, “but, I may add, spends his free time helping you on the road and aiding you in trying times.”
Geralt looks down at Jaskier for a brief moment, expressionless and releases a deep exhale through his nostrils.
“Yes.” Is the one-word answer he gives Jaskier, casting a downward gaze to Jaskier, “she doesn’t talk… or sing.”
Jaskier looks at you, a scoff leaving past his lips. You raise an eyebrow with a proud smirk, befriending Geralt seemed like an easy task- you wondered if he actually did have a lot of friends, due to the limited demands. Jaskier fell silent and walked beside you, clearly wounded from the encounter and a little pouty.
You cast a glance to Geralt, clearly unphased or doesn’t care. “He’s playing you, Jask,” you elbow the bard, “clearly you both are friends because he could've run off to get away from you but he hasn’t, has he?”
“Ha!” Jaskier grins, “that is true, Y/N, Geralt clearly loves me. He just doesn’t want to hurt your feelings, I mean, you’re new and he’s clearly uncomfortable around you.” You hide your smile, till you look at Geralt who is looking at Jaskier with a raised eyebrow, disbelief written on his face. “Don’t worry Geralt, you’ll get used to Y/N, just takes time getting used to her ‘tis all.”
You smile at Geralt who only slowly blinks and looks away, ahead and into the forest you’ve been walking through for Geralt’s next contract. You like to think you’d be useful, but you’re not well versed in slaying monsters, especially the ones that Geralt goes after. Sure, you’ve killed a few Ghouls in your time but anything three times your size.
You had never gone up against anything like a Bruxa though. In fact, most of your life has been dealing with the worst kind of monsters: men. They hide their true intentions with cheesy lines and charming smiles, they lurk in the open and gain trust, they make you believe you’re wonderful and special. The worst type of monsters is the ones that hide so plainly in sight.
“Maybe I should write songs about you,” you let a small exhale and shake your head, “the girl who doesn’t fear The Witcher.”
Jaskier looks pleased with himself, almost going to strum on his lute, “There’s a lot of girls who aren’t exactly scared of him.” You smirk with a raised eyebrow, the indication of your words not going unnoticed by either, “plus there’s worse to be afraid of than some monster slayer.”
“Hmm,” comes the grunt of Geralt, his language of ‘leave me the fuck alone’ or ‘continue’, in this case, it’s the latter.
“Men,” it’s a simple word but it makes them both look at you, then one another, “people who hide their intentions and cast shadows on your life. I know a monster slayers beast, but people, well, they hide theirs and that’s… far worse; a surprise attack.”
It goes silent between you three.
The dull thud of Geralt hoping down from Roach, he ties her reigns to a tree and looks Jaskier for a moment and then you. You raise an eyebrow, apparently, you’re meant to understand that look, but you don’t and that makes Geralt of Rivia sigh.
“Stay beside Roach,” is his response, “least I need is to look out for you two.”
You huffed a little, you may not be a “monster killer” but you can look out for yourself. You don’t need some brute man keeping you safe, especially since past ones haven’t been so good at it. But you’re hired to look after Jaskier, to go where he goes and therefore you remained beside the bard.
Geralt disappears through the thick brush, swords on his back and not making a sound; not even with his feet. He can’t have been gone for more than two minutes before Jaskier loudly sighed.
“How am I meant to write songs about him and his fights if I can’t see them?” He crosses his arms, lute on his back and shaking his head, “not like he’s extremely talkative after a fight either, grunts and one-word answers, half the time I have to make up details.”
You felt for Jaskier. He only wanted to write about real adventures, real stories, you’ve heard his old songs and listened to him write his new. He’s improved and Geralt doesn’t seem to realise how important he’s played in that.
“What if…” you trailed off, “I go and watch? I’ll keep out of sight and I’ll tell you what happened?”
Jaskier looks torn, “I’m not sure… Geralt, he can be very, I think it’s best we stay here.”
You chuckle, rolling your eyes, “I can look out for myself, Jaskier. Besides, he'll be too concerned with the Bruxa than I.”
Keeping a firm hand on your steel sword you walk in the direction Geralt left in. It’s dark and silent, which has you wondering just how far Geralt is, but then you hear it. The slight shriek in the distance, the grunts that distinctive of Geralt. You quicken your steps and crouch down, finally in view of the fight.
Your heartbeat quickens and for a brief moment you think Geralt knows you’re here, he looks around briefly as if sensing you but quickly goes back into defensive mode. The Bruxa is not what you expect, it looks human and naked, long dark hair and fingers that finish into sharp nails. It’s ugly but powerful. It disappears from sight, still attacking Geralt, who looks different than before.
Dark eyes and veins, paler than usual. His whole stance is oozing with intimidation and the focus; it almost makes you wonder why you aren’t scared, it almost makes you understand why people do fear him. You watch in amazement at Geralt fighting, how agile he is despite his size. You revel in just watching him fight, although you feel bad because it feels almost intimate- like you’re catching him at his most vulnerable, despite it being the complete opposite of.
But the moment of revelling is cut short, the Bruxa vanishes again and instead of attacking Geralt it goes silent. He stalks around the woodland floor, sword in hand, dark eyes casting in every direction and listening intently for his moment to pounce.
You frown because nothing is happening. For a moment you think it might’ve runoff, how you wish it would have. A twig snaps behind you, you stand to full height and swiftly turn around, the sword being pulled effortlessly from its sheath. Before you can swing, it hits you and it’s claws scratch your arm causing you to also fly backwards.
“I told you to stay away,” his voice is coarse and deep, cuts through the tension like a silver knife.
You sit up as he stands before you, back towards you. A purple circle encompasses him and he fights the Bruxa with efficiency, the cloaking of the Bruxa gone and he’s able to see it’s every movement. He picks up your forgotten sword when rolling out of the way, it’s sights set on you once again but before you can even begin to stand two swords pierce its stomach; slicing in opposite directions and cutting it in half.
A long-awaited breath of relief leaves you, you sit up and hold your sliced arm.
“Igni,” Geralt holds a hand over the body and it sets alight before you. He whistles twice and a moment later you hear the galloping of Roach approaching, also a very confuddled Jaskier trying to keep up with her. “I told you to stay away,” Geralt directs at you, although not facing you.
“It’s my fault, Geralt, I should’ve-” Jaskier tries to defend but is cut off.
“You could’ve gotten killed,” you shakily stand up, brush yourself off and trying not to look like you’re in pain because it’ll only make the situation worse.
You shrug one shoulder, “I’m fine. I’m also sorry, I didn’t think it knew I was there.”
Geralt huffed, his face almost back to normal but it only makes him look angrier somehow, “Fuck you are. You’re bleeding and Bruxa scratches are painful, especially when not treated properly. No wonder you’re afraid of men, you haven’t seen any part of real life to know you should’ve been too afraid to even be around here.”
The mocking words slice through you, you narrow your eyes at The Witcher. But instead of retaliating you compose yourself, knowing already that getting into any sort of conflict with a man, especially this man, could result in much worse circumstances.
“It’s done now. You’ve killed it, I got in the way. I’ll patch myself up when we go back to the village to collect your reward.” You think it’s over, well you hope it is. You begin to walk in the direction Roach came from.
“No!” Geralt’s stern voice stops you, you turn on your heel and look at him wide-eyed, he’s angry. “It isn’t done. You put yourself and me in danger, you can’t just-” he steps forward but you step back, breathing heavily and you fall to the floor, trying to capture your breath.
Past memories of your life before this one. A life filled with loud yelling, stern stares and even crueller hands. Of a man, not even Geralt’s build, more like Jaskier if anything. Sparking fear into you, instead of the love he once promised to forever give you. A life of threat and pain.
A life you longed to forget.
You shut your eyes tightly, praying to the gods that you don’t look like an idiot. You feel someone settle beside you, snapping your eyes open and met with amber ones, he lifts a hand but instinct takes over and you shrink away from him. Almost cowering before him, you thought you’d gotten over this. The evidence clearly states you haven’t.
A gentle touch is placed upon your shoulder, no words spoken as he keeps a small distance but a hand still comforting you. You eventually return to normal, finally looking at Geralt with teary eyes and a watery smile to accompany it.
“I’m sorry,” is all you can mutter and Geralt shakes his head, a little ‘hmm’ leaving him.
Geralt is silent, kneeling beside where you’re huddled, conversation not exactly his strong suit. You watch as he thinks over his words, a more refined ‘hmm’ leaves his body like he’s thinking of how to word something.
“Please tell me the one who caused this is dead,” you exhale through your nose in amusement, wiping your eyes with your sleeve, “otherwise I’ll have to make another stop.”
You shrug a little, “It was a long time ago, I’ve been running from that life. I do not need a Witcher to kill for my revenge,” Geralt tilts his head at your words. “I’m a fucking idiot. A guy yells and I cower before him, how am I expected to protect anyone?”
“Because you know, more than anyone, what it’s like to be put into a position you cannot break out of.”
The words hang in the air for a second before he stands up, taking your hand and pulling you up gently. He looks over your wound, grunting at the look of it, the adrenaline is fading and it’s starting to prickle in pain. Jaskier, for once, is quiet but concerned about you. Geralt even helps you onto Roach, leading the horse through the woods.
Sat in the Inn with a couple of ales and Geralt patching you up in the candlelight. You recount the ordeal to Jaskier, who is smiling now with a belly full of bread. After being told countless times by Geralt that you’ll be fine, it was nice to see he actually cared about you.
“You know, I might just write a song about you,” Jaskier informs you, sitting back with a smug smile, Geralt raises an eyebrow. “We make a great team, don’t we. Where shall we go next?”
You frown a little, “I think, I’ve gotta chase up an old life.” Geralt snaps his eyes to you, though doesn’t say anything. “I left a book open, it needs to be closed. We all have to face our monsters at some point,” you sigh and sip your ale.
“It’s a good thing you’ve got a Witcher as a friend,” Jaskier states and nods at Geralt.
You don’t miss the gentle ‘Hmm’ from Geralt.
Part Two
(Lmao this is over 2K words, wtf! Hopefully, this is okay. I didn’t make this romantic, but if you want a second part I will make it romantic, I already have an idea for it. Just let me know- Rosalie)
#geralt x reader#geralt of rivia x reader#geralt of rivia one shot#geralt of rivia imagine#geralt one shot#geralt imagine#the witcher x reader#the witcher one shot#jaskier x reader
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Pairing: Jaskier x reader Word count: 1.9k Request: Can I request a oneshot of Jaskier&Fem!Reader? ❤️ She's travelling with Jask, Geralt and Ciri. One night while they're camping, the reader heard the scream of a kikimore, she fought the beast and she gets badly hurt. Geralt heard her scream and went to see what was going on, he found her lying down on the ground with the corpse of the kikimore behind her and went to the camp as soon as possible because it was poisonus and they have to reach the next village really soon because she's going to die and Yennefer was the only one who can save her. Maybe a little angsty and fluffy with happy ending oneshot where Jaskier confessed his love to her and viceversa? A/N: Aaah, I’m so happy that I got this request! This was a lot of fun to write and made me feel productive again. Thank you so much @caritobbg ❤️
This was a foolish idea. You shouldn’t have followed that scream, not alone, not knowing what it could’ve been. But you couldn’t risk for the beast to get closer, you couldn’t risk losing Ciri, losing Jaskier.
You remembered the first time you’d heard him sing. He sat in that small tavern, alone, signing one of the saddests songs you could fathom. Of course, as you’d learn, he had just left his Witcher behind, and had felt lost, forgotten, after having dedicated so much to something that was worth so little to someone else. You talked that night; you drunk on ale, him drunk on sadness, and somehow came to the agreement of traveling together. You weren’t a Witcher, but you went on adventures, occasionally fighting monsters, but mostly thieves and other outlaws. But that was enough for ballads and stories of heroic moments, so it was enough for both of you. And so you went on, together, living each day with a new mix of excitement, laughter, adventure, leaving loneliness behind. You eventually met the Witcher again, of course, but this time he wasn’t alone. The reunion wasn’t smooth, but all came down to an apology, a string of profanities and a simple pat on the back. It didn’t stop Jaskier from making occasional remarks and comments, but you and Ciri learned to laugh at them, and Geralt learned to ignore them.
And there you were, four improbable friends, camping out for the night, avoiding danger. Geralt left the three of you by the campfire to hunt for food, or wood, the main aim that to survive the night. You could live without food for one more night, but the dark wouldn’t do you any favors, he knew that, and the fire had started growing low. He wouldn’t be far, and he was fast, and more than all, he trusted you. He knew that you knew your way with a sword, you’d protect the others just fine - if needed of course.
And then, just after two pleasant conversations and an incredibly inappropriate joke (Jaskier, of course) after, you all heard it. That scream. That incredibly terrifying scream, one you recognized easily. You quickly stood, your eyes meeting Jaskier’s for a moment, before glancing at Ciri and quickly smiling at her. Jaskier followed suit, standing up and looking around, his hand reaching for the small dainty dagger he carried with him. “I’ll come with you.” he started, eyes glancing around the dark. “Stay with Ciri. Geralt will have heard the scream too, he’ll reach me there.” “Let him go then! He’s not far, he’ll have heard it and-” he tried to convince you. He tried. “Jaskier, trust me, if we heard it, that means it’s near. I don’t want it harming Ciri or … you.” just the thought of that pained you. You’d never admit it, yet… “Stay. I’ll be back soon. I can handle it.” you smiled at him, your hand instinctively reaching for his, a quick gesture of affection that you allowed yourself before dashing away. If only you’d have said something, held him a bit longer, kissed him even… You ran. You ran fast, your sword held tightly in your hand, even when you reached it, you didn’t stop, you didn’t cower under it, you hit it, barely stopping for aim, you just hit. You don’t fully recall what happened, but you knew that something had hit you, and you were bleeding, you were weak, but the kikimore was down, and wasn’t moving, so everything was going to be alright.
You heard your name being called, once, twice, from a familiar voice, but everything was spinning, and you were so small, and so tired. “Keep her awake! Make sure she stays with us as long as possible!” you heard the words distantly, but you recognized Geralt’s voice. He seemed… worried? But the kikimore was down. Everything was going to be alright. “Is she going to make it? There’s a lot of blood, Geralt.” “Ciri, I-” he paused. “We’ll do what we can. But we have to get her to Yennefer. She’s our only chance. Quick.” Something pulled you up, roughly, and you felt the air being pulled out of your lungs for a moment. “Geralt!” “What, Jaskier?” A mumble, then something else. You couldn’t hear clearly, but he was there. Was it him holding your hand? Or was it Ciri? “I can’t Geralt. I couldn’t.” “Just talk to her. Keep her awake for as long as you can.” “You felt your hand being squeezed gently. You moved your head, or you tried at least, making them see that you were still with them. “Oh my, she’s… she’s moving.” you heard him sigh, squeezing your hand tighter, “Hey, it’s alright. I’ve got you. Everything is going to be alright.” Everything was going to be alright.
You don’t remember much from after that. Those last words. You kept reliving that moment, that evening, but each time something different happened. The first time you had left to fight the monster, but found nothing, only a rose. A small rose. “For you.” he spoke. Jaskier. “It’s lovely.” “Not as lovely as you.” you smiled at the dream, feeling that familiar pang in your chest. The second time you were at the campfire again, Ciri sleeping by the fire, you next to Jaskier, inches away, gazing at each other’s eyes, those beautiful eyes, before leaning in, lips touching and… The third time you were alone in the dark. You could see the kikimore’s body, but nothing else. Until you did. You saw your body next to it. Cold, still, lifeless. And a single rose next to it, a gesture of affection, of loss.
But you weren’t dead.
You weren’t.
You could feel something. Something warm, something soft. You held it, or it held you. You moved, your body stiff, trying to reach it, but it moved away. You were alone again, in the dark. Then you started to feel lighter again, and sounds started to be heard again. “She moved! She did, I swear!” Jaskier. You smiled. “You know she might not make it, Jaskier. I know you want to believe it but-” “But she did! She did move, I tell you!” “Go look for Ciri then. If she is waking up she’ll be thrilled.” You heard some commotion, then the door closing and some hushed whispers. You slowly opened your eyes, meeting the blurry world once again. “Geralt, she actually is waking up.” You felt the air shift around you, as two hands gently guided you up, so you could sit once more. “How do you feel?” she asked, her eyes analyzing your face. “I’m… weak. But I’m alright. Thank you.” you smiled at her, thankful that you felt better again. Your eyes scanned the room, looking for someone that wasn’t there. “Ciri and Jaskier should be in soon.” Geralt sat next to you, slowly, afraid to startle you in some way. “He wouldn’t shut up about you.” “I heard him. Not everything but… I was conscious for some time. I don’t recall exactly what happened but I remember hearing your voices.” “We were worried.” he spoke after a moment. “I heard the scream but assumed you had stayed with Jaskier and Ciri. By the time I reached them and figured out where you were… I should’ve been quicker. I apologize.” “There’s no apologizing to do, Geralt.” he smiled, reassured. He wouldn’t forgive himself, he knew that, but he appreciated the fact that you didn’t blame him, and he promised himself to be more careful when it came to your surroundings, wanting to make it up to you. “You did good. With the kikimore. But don’t do it again.” “I just wanted to protect Jaskier and Ciri.” “Oh, I know. But you’ll put me out of work.” you laughed, reaching for his arm and patting it, assuring him you’d focus on a different career. You both turned when the door opened and Ciri ran past it, jumping into your arms. You fell back onto the bed, laughing, as Geralt tried to pull her off, warning her that you weren’t well enough yet and she should wait. When you sat back up you glanced at the door, where Jaskier stood. He nodded at you, smiling for a moment before turning away, walking back out. “I’ll go talk to him.” “Let me help you stand.” Both Yennefer and Ciri were by your side, helping you up and allowing you a moment to get your balance. You thanked them and made your way out, looking around and spotting the bard under a tree not too far. “Well hello there.” you said as you sat next to him. “I… are you… alright?” “I’m fine. Really.” you smiled and reached for his hand, but he flinched, moving away and standing quickly. “Jaskier?” “That was my fault. I knew I had to come with you. Or tell you to stay. But I didn’t. This is on me.” “Jask, this isn’t anybody’s fault. And I’m alright, that’s what matters, right?” “But what if you hadn’t been.” his voice lowered, fear taking over him once more. “What if you were still there, on that bed, in Yen’s house. If you hadn’t woken up.” “We’ll never know. We don’t have to know.” “But it killed me. It killed me imagining my life without you. I went through two days without you and feared for what life was without you by my side, without your words and jokes and smiles. What would a life without you be?” “I’m here now. And I’m not leaving.” this time your hand found his. He didn’t move away, just held it tight, not willing to let you go again. “I dreamt of you.” he laughed bitterly, waiting for you to carry on. “I dreamt of many things. But you were always there.” “Must’ve been a nightmare.” he joked. You both felt the shift in the air, the worry washing away and leaving both of you to bask in your usual comfortable mood. “Quite the opposite actually.” you laughed. “But it did make me realize something.” “What?” “That no matter the dream, you were there.” “Arguably, it’s a curse” “Jaskier!” “No, but it’s true! You probably don’t even like me that much, yet you see me in every dream? That’s a tragedy, my dear.” “I like you. A lot.” “I like you a lot too.” No one dared say anything for a moment, allowing the words to just linger in the air. “When you say that you like me-” he pointed at him, vaguely gesturing around face “you mean ‘like’ as in…?” “As in ‘like’.” “But like… do you like like me or just like me?” “Jaskier, you’ve said ‘like’ way too many times in that phrase.” “Well it’s my phrase. Now answer.” “I like like you. I have for a while, if I must admit.” “You have?” “Indeed.” He smiled, moving closer and sliding his hand up to your cheek, resting it there. You waited for a moment, moving your arms to embrace him. “Are you going to kiss me, or…?” You whispered, laughing. “Oh, honey, now I think that I might be the one dreaming.” “But this is definitely true” you winked at him and leaned it, placing a kiss on his lips and getting lost in it, feeling the sunrays gently warming your skin and the sounds of nature whirl around you. “Almost-dying was SO worth it.” you whispered, laughing. “Yeah, well, don’t do it again” he joked before kissing you again, this time determined not to let go.
#the witcher jaskier#jaskier x reader#Jaskier#geralt of rivia#ciri#the witcher fanfic#fanfic#the witcher netflix#jaskier x you#imagine#jaskier imagine
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okay okay okay
the movie “enchanted”, but witcher-fied (sorry this got away from me a bit)
there’s a stereotypical medieval fantasyland where jaskier julian alfred pankratz is the prince of lettenhovia. he’s got the looks, voice, and affinity for attracting woodland animals of a disney princess. also, the tragic backstory: his parents died in a freak accident when he was young. but don’t worry, his creepy “uncle” stregobor took upon himself the burden of ruling in their stead, until julian grew up and became ready for the throne.
(basically, stregobitch is like rasputin, and had tricked and slimed his way into the crown’s good graces before, surprise surprise, killing off the king and queen. he left julian alive to take some of the heat off of him with that extra distraction of grieving child. alas, poor little princeling that he can play the benevolent guardian to.)
and things are gr8 for good ol streggy, julian seems more inclined to sing and wander than become bogged down with the responsibility of becoming king. everything’s comin up stregs.
and then, of course, there’s a prophecy about how julian will be his doom or whatev and he needs to get on that shit STAT like he’s never heard of a self-fulfilling prophecy before (to be fair, fantasyland doesn’t have ancient greek tragedies to learn from so rip stregosaurus). but before he can implement his sophisticated plan of julian dying in an “accident”, our dear jules wanders too far and falls down a magic well into the Real World.
and he’s like, sweet, look at all this stuff! this is great and - oh hello, very attractive man with silken white hair and eyes as golden as the dawn light falling gently upon newly blossomed lillies and thighs that can crush his head and his heart, what up. and geralt is very confused and frustrated and oddly and begrudgingly charmed by this loudly dressed and loudly singing idiot accosting him outta nowhere, but his daughter ciri seems to like him so i guess we can keep him for a night but if he pees on the rug he’s out.
cue fun family bonding, musical numbers, shenanigans, all that jazz; julian, now jaskier cuz new world new him babey,, exploring and learning and having the time of his life and trying to get this broody man to open up and show that kindness his scowl can’t quite hide.
aaaaand cut back to streginald throwing a fit that the prince has cleverly evaded his dastardly plans, he has underestimated him it seems, and he can’t just let this massive loose thread keep flappin in the breeze, so he sends yennefer to deal with him.
now, yennefer is streggo my eggo’s daughter in this, and he’s raised her to be his right hand woman, his evil apprentice, the (much smarter) kronk to his yzma, and she’s been promised power once her dad fully claims the throne, so ofc she gets right on tracking that crafty twunk down to kill him. in the process, she comes across roach, julian’s horse and bff talking animal companion, by the magic well, gathering up the fucks to go after her wayward idiot. a struggle ensues, and yen and roach both go through the portal.
so now we got the side plot of these two trying to find jaskier, yen to kill him and roach to huff reproachfully at him for getting into this mess and if anyone is gonna kill him she will for dragging her across realms (she does not like portals, okay, they feel weird) not some uppity witch. so they got their tomfoolery of yen almost killing an unaware jaskier but then roach foiling her plans. she also tries to kidnap ciri as bait for a trap, but she can’t hurt this kid she’s too precious, ow ow ow, why does her chest feel weird?? she’s actually starting to find the boundaries to her thirst for power and it kinda sucks and feels nice at the same time??? 0/10 do not recommend
during this, geralt’s quiet life is being upended by this weird dude and he’s never danced so much in his life and his child is conspiring against him to set him up with this clearly deranged but very nice and pretty man but he’s not staying ciri we have to get him back to .....wherever tf he came from i don’t even like him, what are you talking about,,,
it all comes to a head at the costume ball, where geralt and jaskier are dancing and making eyes at each other until roach bursts in and tries to charades her way into warning her idiot to run motherfucker but she can’t talk in this realm so ugh and geralt horsegirl rivia is just like omg ur best friend is a horse that’s so fucking cool i love you even more.
and then yen bursts in; she’s kinda struggling to fulfill her mission, cuz she’s been watching jaskier and geralt and they just seem like two idiots that couldn’t possibly threaten anything, let alone her father’s power grab. she’s also made frenemies with roach, she’s the only motherfucker who can handle her in this city. so she just tries to scare jaskier into never returning, which works pretty well because she is v v scary, and then stregobonkers comes strolling in like wtf why is this taking you so long just kill him!! and yen is like i’ve kind of grown this pesky con- 🤢 consci- 🤢, wait, just, give me a min,,,, conscience!! yeah, that’s the bitch! anyway, stop telling me what to do dad and stregobego drops a bomb and goes i always knew you had a weakness to you, just like your parents!
and it’s just,,
silent.
what? what do you - my parents?
and it turns out he saw the power she held and wanted it under his control, so he killed her parents (it’s like, his signature move at this point) and groomed her to be his obedient little weapon. and, understandably, yen is pissed off and hurt and goes to lash out at him, but he just smirks and clicks his fingers while muttering under his breath, and everything stops for yen a second time as her mind blanks.
sneaky streg had put in a fail safe, in case she ever got out of line, and the amulet he gave her “for protection and focus, you must never take it off” lights up and puts her under his command and she turns into a sickass dragon that starts tearing up the dance floor, literally, in her rampage to kill jaskier.
geralt and jaskier go oh shit and dodge for their lives and things are looking pretty dire, but then jaskier looks at the suits of armor set up for decoration and goes wait a minute and grabs a sword to toss at geralt and just goes cover me boo and aim for that amulet and if you miss we’ll probably all die so no pressure!! and just sprints out and distracts angry dragon!yen and geralt goes goddamnit jaskier and sneaks around until he can jump at her and do a completely improbable matrix leap to stab at the amulet, and because this is a romcom and i get to choose my coping mechanisms, he makes it and yen is free from streg egghead’s power and she turns to him, still a dragon, and smiles wide with all them sharp sharp teeth and he goes ohhhh shiiiit and tries to run, but jaskier very helpfully trips him up and goes eat up my lady and dragon yen does, with great relish.
in conclusion, everyone lives happily ever after except streggles. geralt gets over his baggage and professes his love for jaskier, jaskier goes i’m not that easy geralt there needs to be wooing! i deserve to be wooed!! before heavily making out with him in the next five seconds. jaskier gives yen his blessing to become queen of lettenhovia, because he never really wanted the job anyway and she deserves it after what she’s been through. she still comes back every sunday for brunch and to teach ciri how to fight (she’s mine now, i’ve adopted her so she needs to learn the fine art of pointy things geralt) and geralt, jaskier, and ciri take holidays to fantasyland and roach is free to roam wherever she wants and becomes an advisor to yen.
the end
(extra dramatic addendum: geralt finally brings jask home to meet his family; vesemir opens the door and geralt goes this is my boyfriend, jas- but vesemir cuts him off with a choked out pRiNcE JuLiAn?! and it turns out vesemir is also actually from fantasyland. he worked for julian’s parents; the prevalence of monsters had been steadily rising, and so they had the idea to create witchers to combat them. kaer morhen was created under their sanction and vesemir was a teacher there, but he became disenfranchised with every boy that didn’t make it through the trials. when the keep was attacked by fanatics against witchers, he smuggled out eskel, lambert, coen, and geralt, and hid them away. he looked at these traumatized kids and went well that won’t do, followed up on some rumors of a new world, had a mage friend alter the boys’ memories, and skedaddled for our world. very shocking reveal, angsty angst-ness as geralt and the others deal with repressed memories and the fact that jaskier’s parents were responsible for it all, y’know, all that good stuff)
#the witcher#i come to you with another weird witcher au#geralt#jaskier#julian alfred pankratz#yennefer#ciri#roach#cw: stregobor#jaskier would make a fantastic giselle don’t front#i would write a proper fic of this but it is late and i am tired#so here#some ramblings#witcher ficlet#geraskier
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Ah no! *sends hugs* okay okay, this is very oddly specific, but in one of your Birds Still Sing chapters, I think the one where Kris is introduced, you mentioned a snowstorm?? 👀👀 sounds like a story lol. There were also mentions of monster encounters where Jaskier got in the way. No pressure if neither of those inspire you though haha.
I – Wha - How??? I bow down before your ability to not only notice but also remember such small details. And thank you for that lovely prompt!
Content warning: pure angst, hypothermia, animal death (very heavily implied, Roach gets left behind in the storm), angst, hypothermia, mention of the possibility of losing fingers due to the cold, minor references to Birds Still Sing that makes the ending really angsty. Otherwise the ending is only vaguely happy, but not really? No major character death though
word count: about 2.4k
also no need to read the other fic to understand this
No need to read the other fic tho
It wasn’t the first time Jaskier was accompanying Geralt to Kaer Morhen.
If it were, then maybe Geralt would have been more careful – too worried about whether or not this breakable human would be able to make it up the mountain.
That first time, Geralt’s eyes had not once stopped to scan his surroundings, to search for threats or anything that could make this more uncomfortable for Jaskier than was unavoidable. If Jaskier got hurt or just realised how hard the climb was, he would never want to go with Geralt again. And though it had taken Geralt years to offer Jaskier to stay with him for the winter, now that he had finally build up the courage to do so and Jaskier had agreed with shining eyes, he couldn’t bear the thought of getting rejected in the years to come.
So he had made sure to do everything in his power to prevent that. Be it carefully rationing their supplies so they would last, always making sure any wild animals were well without reach or soothing Jaskier’s irrational worries about how his brothers would react to meeting him, Geralt had been determined to do it all.
This time though, he was careless.
Jaskier didn’t need soothing, he was far too giddy about seeing his other friends again and Geralt’s chest was glowing at hearing Jaskier refer to the other witchers as such.
Despite the hard climb, Jaskier’s cheeks were flushed from more than the cold and exertion and his eyes were full of excitement.
And Geralt - stupid and careless and too easily distracted by his friend’s happiness – was too busy staring at Jaskier to look at the sky as he should have – as he had done every year before.
Because that was the thing about snowstorms. They told you they were coming, if only you knew how to listen. The animals hiding in their caves were telling any travellers that they too should take cover. The fog making it harder to see was telling them to stop, to go no further. The sharp winds would try to push them away, urging them into safer spots. The nervous neighing and stomping of his horse told him that there was danger on the horizon.
Geralt knew all those things. A witcher who didn’t know how to feel a storm approaching was a dead witcher.
And yet, here Geralt was, listening to his friend’s cheerful ramblings and being enraptured by his smiles instead of listening to what nature was trying to tell him.
Occasional brushes of Jaskier’s hands against his and Jaskier’s excitement urged him to go forward, to go as far as they could today instead of taking breaks, so that they would be able to get to their family faster.
If they had taken a break, if it had been the first time making it up the mountain together, if Geralt hadn’t been so foolishly distracted by a pretty smile, he wouldn’t have let himself get lulled into this false sense of security that only shattered when it was already too late.
Towering clouds darkened the sky and the harsh wind teared at their clothing, making it near impossible to go forwards.
Out of the corner of his eye, Geralt saw Jaskier stumble, pushed over by the storm.
Geralt’s hand shot out and grabbed him.
“Jaskier!” He shouted over the roaring of the storm. “Get behind Roach!”
There was no way to tell if Jaskier had understood him, whether his eyes were narrowed because of his confusion of to shield his eyes as best he could from the hale and snow pricking him like a million sharp needles.
Geralt firmly pushed Jaskier, until he stood between Geralt and Roach, praying that it would be enough to shield him from the worst of the wind until they found shelter.
They pressed on, waging war against the storm, fighting a battle they could not hope to win.
For a blissful moment, a memory flickered through Geralt’s mind. A winter spent together in Oxenfurt, huddled together and laughing, all because Geralt had been too slow to reach the mountain in time before it was snowed in. Because he had known risking the climb when the snow had already fallen meant a sure death.
He ground his teeth and urged Jaskier on. They had to get through this. The keep wasn’t far.
They just had to make it through the storm and they would be safe.
They could make it.
They would –
A crack above them cut through the storm. A shrill neighing.
Geralt whirled around just in time to see what Roach had noticed before him; A branch above them was dangerously close to being torn off the tree by the storm.
Roach threw her head back, threatening to tear the reins out of Geralt’s hand. Geralt clenched his jaw and gripped the reins tighter, his free hand trying to form Axii, but his hands were so cold and his fingers wouldn’t obey him.
“Geralt!”
Jaskier’s cry came just in time. Geralt looked up, saw the branch whirl through the air, straight towards them.
Roach was still panicking and Jaskier clung to his cloak as if Geralt weren’t the reason they were in danger, both frozen to their spots, both unable to save themselves.
He had only a split second to make his decision.
It wasn’t much of a choice.
He grabbed Jaskier by the scruff and yanked him to the side, letting go of the reins.
“Geralt?”
Jaskier’s terrified shout wasn’t enough to drown out Roach’s neighing and the thunk of a harsh impact before the neighing cut off abruptly.
“Don’t look,” Geralt said harshly and tugged Jaskier forwards, pulling him closer to himself. “Don’t look. Just keep moving.”
Despite his own words Geralt looked. The snow blurred his vision, making it impossible to see what had happened to Roach. He wasn’t sure if that made it worse.
The only consolation was when he felt Jaskier nodding against him, though shivers seized him and he kept stumbling over his own feet.
Geralt put part of his cloak over Jaskier’s shoulder.
It wasn’t enough.
Jaskier’s skin felt like ice pressed against him. It was a miracle Jaskier was even still standing.
Still, Geralt grit his teeth and half dragged Jaskier onwards until finally, finally he saw a shadow through the snow. The entrance to a cave.
“We’re safe, Jaskier,” he said, his words leaving him in pants. “You’re safe. Just a little bit further. Just a few more steps.”
As soon as they entered the cave and the wind stopped cutting into their skin like blades, Jaskier’s knees gave way. Geralt barely manages to hold him tightly enough to guide him to the ground gently instead of letting him hit it with full force.
He couldn’t say the same about himself. His knees hit the ground with a sharp sting, but he didn’t pay it any attention. He needed to make sure that Jaskier was alright.
As Geralt frantically touched his hands to Jaskier’s face, he could feel Jaskier’s eyes following his every movement, sluggish but thankfully still conscious.
Geralt let out a shuddering breath.
“You’re going to be alright. You hear me, Jaskier? I won’t let anything happen to you.”
Jaskier’s lips formed words, but no sound came out safe for the chattering of his teeth and the quick breathing. Eventually, his lips just stretched into a hint of a smile that shattered Geralt’s heart.
His mind was racing, thoughts never stopping for long enough to grasp them, except for the one truth that was burned into Geralt’s very being; Jaskier couldn’t die, he needed to keep him safe.
Geralt’s hands trembled and every lungful of air he sucked in stung in his chest, but he pushed it aside. Geralt didn’t have the luxury of giving in. If Geralt caved, Jaskier would be alone, there would be no one here to watch over him, to make sure he survived.
With the strength of a hundred men, Geralt peeled Jaskier out if his clothes. It felt like it took forever. Every movement however gentle jostled Jaskier and made him moan in pain. Geralt tried – he tried to be gentle, but his hands kept failing him and Jaskier kept aching. He cradled Jaskier’s head and lifted him up to get his cloak and jacket off. With every move he made to get Jaskier’s soaked boots and trousers off of him, he risked a glance at Jaskier’s face to see if it pained him. He thanked all the gods he never believed in that at least the inner layer of Jaskier’s clothes had remained dry.
When he had finally managed to get Jaskier out of his wet clothes he felt like he had done an impossible feat. All strength threatened to leave him and an overwhelming exhaustion seeped into his bones, daring him to close his eyes and rest and look after Jaskier another time –
No.
With a harsh shake of his head he pushed himself up, taking the wet clothes and laying them out on the ground at the far end of the cave and started a fire with a quick burst of Igni next to them.
It took far too long for the few pieces of wood that someone else must have left here before to catch fire. But he needed to do this. Jaskier would need warm and dry clothes when the storm was over. When they could continue their way to Kaer Morhen. When Jaskier had survived this. If –
A soft whimper brought him back to Jaskier’s side in a flash.
For a moment, Geralt’s hands hovered helplessly over Jaskier’s trembling body, before shrugging off his own wet closed and lay down next to Jaskier.
He wrapped his arms as tightly as he could around Jaskier without hurting him – he felt so small. Why did Jaskier feel so small and breakable? – and pulled him close until their bodies were pressed together.
Jaskier’s cold fingers came to rest on Geralt’s chest and he was overcome with the overwhelming urge to take them into his own hands, blow hot breath against them and rub them until the feeling returned. Jaskier couldn’t lose his fingers, he needed them; to play, to write, to hold Geralt’s hand when no one else would even look at him, to show him he was there to care for Geralt as Geralt should have cared for him instead of leading him right into a snowstorm.
And yet he knew he wouldn’t be able to heat up Jaskier’s hands, not if he didn’t want to risk Jaskier going into shock.
All he could do was press himself closer against Jaskier, keeping the wind away, giving him heat, making sure he knew he wasn’t alone just in case Jaskier wasn’t going to – Geralt couldn’t finish that thought.
He just shut his eyes tightly. Whenever a violent tremble wrecked Jaskier’s body, Geralt ran his hand up and down his back and started whispering in his ear.
“You are going to be warm again. In Kaer Morhen you can have all the blankets and sit in front of the fire place.” They would get there. They had to.
“When we get out of here you can have a hot bath. That’ll be nice, don’t you think?” Not nearly as nice and warming as one of Jaskier’s smiles.
“Remember the sun? Remember how warm it feels on your skin?” Not nearly as warm as Jaskier’s hand felt in his when he reached for him to show him something beautiful he had found.
He clung to these thoughts, to how he would see Jaskier smile and feel his warm hand in his again.
He didn’t know how long it took until the howling of the wind finally quieted down enough that he could hear Jaskier’s heartbeat again, beating in his chest like a hummingbird’s wings and yet so faint, so frail.
Until it slowed to its familiar rhythm and grew stronger again at last.
“Geralt?”
The voice was quiet and raspy, but it was the most beautiful sound Geralt had ever heard.
Geralt let out a sharp breath that could have been a sob if he had had the strength for one and buried his face into the crook of Jaskier’s neck. His hands wandered to Jaskier’s head and cradled it, running his fingers through Jaskier’s hair.
“You are safe,” He whispered over and over. He didn’t care that the words tumbled out of his mouth like water rushing into a river after the ice had thawed. “You are safe.”
“Of course I am.” Gentle hands found Geralt’s face and ghosted over his cheeks. “I am with you.”
Though the words twisted his stomach into a painful knot, Geralt’s lips tugged into a brittle smile as he pressed them against the top of Jaskier’s head, silently vowing to make the words a truth.
Later, when Jaskier was safe to be on his own for a bit, wrapped in his fire-warmed clothes, Geralt would go out there again in search for Roach and all they had left with her; his swords, the supplies, Jaskier’s lute.
When he came back to Jaskier he would thaw the snow and make a soup, guiding Jaskier’s hand holding the spoon while holding his head upright until Jaskier would be strong enough to leave the cave.
Jaskier might try to walk or Geralt might start carrying him from the very beginning, if only so he could feel Jaskier close, feel his warmth and his steady heart that was no longer fluttering like a bird dreading to fall.
However long it would take them, they would make it to Kaer Morhen, where they would be surrounded by warm laughter, embraces and words from a family that wouldn’t hesitate even a moment to help Jaskier get back enough strength to return their smiles in earnest.
And when they would finally sit together again and Jaskier would laugh and sing and joke with his brothers as if he had never been in danger of never doing any of that again, Geralt would renew his promise. To do anything in his power to never let it get this far again that he would have to hold Jaskier in his arms, fearing for his life with only his heartbeat to cling to.
#What do I do when I want to describe one very specific scene that would probably only take a handful of sentences?#Why keep on adding details about what happened before of course#Editing? I don’t think so#I’d say I will edit it if I ever put this on ao3#But I think we all know how that’s gonna go#thank you so mcuh for the prompt!#hypothermia#animal death#angst#angsty ending#geraskier#geraltxjaskier#witcher#fic#my writing#prompt#Birds still sing when they fall from the sky#i guess#ask and you shall receive
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I'm almost afraid to ask...
What are your werewolf au ideas?
GSHBDKSND oh its not horny or anything its just like. kind of angsty, but like, in that way where sometimes angsty daydreams are fun, you know?? like
ok its like a geraskier thing cuz im a one trick pony, but basically geralt gets cursed, three nights a month he goes all wolfy. he's an intelligent werewolf with pretty great self control, BUT he's like, ridiculously worried that he's gonna snap and hurt people. (he's not, but, you know, he's had to put down werewolves for that before, and he's not a man with a lot of faith in himself, So.)
uhhhh i cant remember how jaskier finds out tbqh, but after traveling together a while, it comes to light, and jaskier is of course very "its just you, im not scared, and im not judging you." they hang out, they figure things out, and geralt starts to relax.
so all the time he's been cursed, he hasnt gone back to kaer morhen-- its only been a year or two, but still. he feels like they'd know right away, he's worried they'd just put him down, he doesnt think they should get used to "monsters in the keep", he just feels Real Bad about it, but jaskier convinces him that this is his family, they'd understand, and they must miss him.
geralt agrees, eventually, goes up to kaer morhen with jaskier in tow.
but once they get there, he just... totally refuses to explain anything. none of the other witchers have sussed out that something's wrong(other than jaskier's hushed whispering about how geralt should "just tell them, they'd understand")
geralt's genius solution is, he'll just sleep outside three nights a month, he'll bring blankets and his fur will protect him. jaskier doesnt like it, but he's not about to tell geralt's secret, and he cant bodily drag a werewolf inside, so. his only condition is that he gets to sit outside with geralt for a bit, cuddle with him n' such. their excuse is that theyre gross love birds who are going out for moonlight picnics. everyone buys this, partially because its sort of true, partially cuz no one wants to walk in(or out) on them fucking.
it actually works the first trio of nights, to jaskier's surprise, but the 4th night they try they arent so lucky-- they forget something inside(a bottle of wine, a blanket, who knows) and eskel is like "i'll fall on my sword, be the one to bring it out to the happy couple". he steps outside, and what does he see?
a gigantic werewolf pinning jaskier to the ground.
bit of a frenzy after that, eskel attacking and shouting for backup, trying to keep the werewolf in sight while also looking for geralt, getting between the monster and jaskier while jaskier shouts-- eventually jaskier gets through to him though. thats geralt, dont hurt him, its geralt.
geralt isnt saying anything though(despite the fact he's perfectly capable of it, even transformed), and eskel sortve misunderstands. doesnt really get that this has been a long-term affliction, and assumes this is the first transformation. so with geralt not responding, eskel says "not right now it isnt," and gets his hands on one of the training blades they keep in the courtyard.
more chaos-- everyone's outside now, jaskier is absolutely not having any of it but also three grown witchers versus one bard isnt much of a fight, no one's listening to him, and geralt's just pinning himself against the wall like a prey animal and not saying anything.
jaskier proves just enough of a distraction that geralt manages to hop a wall, takes off into the woods. jaskier is calling after him, while the three remaining witchers each make a gameplan(STILL not listening to jask). after a moment, jaskier darts and weaves and makes it just out of their grasp, so they've got a werewolf AND a bard loose in the woods in the dead of both night and winter, which. Bad.
eskel goes after geralt, vesemir stays behind because they need someone in the keep, and lambert's on bard wrangling duty. lambert doesnt have much trouble finding jaskier, but he does have trouble keeping a hold on him, because he's worried about breaking his tiny human limbs(and also he's wearing a lot of thick layers, which he has no compunctions about ripping to shreds to get out of lambert's grip.) he loses a boot and a sleeve to the ongoing tussle, as he keeps slipping out and darting away. lambert even tries axii, but the biggest trick to getting out of axii is just training a lot to resist it, so geralt and him'd run through that a long time ago, so his response is to go fake-limp, then kick lambert in the dick and run off into the night with one shoe.
lambert is extremely annoyed. its not jaskier's best plan.
he finds the cave that geralt had backed himself into by some miracle, and also because eskel'd made no efforts to hide his tracks and there are currently shouts coming from the cave. jaskier gets himself inbetween the two of them and refuses to budge. geralt's still pulling the silent routine, ears pinned back, looking like a kicked dog, and eskel's trying to coax jaskier away from the "monster".
lambert comes bursting in as well, pissed and sore, but stays near the entrance, the four of them locked in a sort of stalemate. the three of them argue about what to do, but jaskier is shivering because of his wrecked coat. eventually geralt breaks his silence to rumble out a worried "yourrr fingerrrs..."
(werewolves roll their 'r's in tw3. dont ask me why, just go with it.)
eskel and lambert are stunned into silence, and jaskier is immediately turning towards geralt, letting him fret and dote on him. slips his arm inside his jacket so his fingers dont fall off-- lets geralt wrap a giant, warm paw around his foot to get some heat back into it.
lambert's like "wait, so you CAN fucking talk?????"
it all got escalated way out of hand, partially because of eskel's reaction, but also because geralt was too ashamed to stand up for himself-- thought maybe they were a little bit right. was basically just going to curl up and let it happen, which he admits with some gentle prodding, and leaves eskel looking sick.
jaskier, though, is absolutely nuclear levels of pissed, because he was explaining everything, even how he'd known for months, and that geralt was perfectly safe to be around, but all the non werewolf witchers were just tuning him out. and geralt nearly died because of it. so he's, like-- he's unspeakably angry at all three of them.
eventually, they do all four make their way back to the keep(geralt carrying jaskier cuz he's still missing a boot), and explain everything one more time for vesemir. everyone looks pretty ragged, because it was a lot of drama very suddenly late at night.
geralt still hesitates in the doorway of the main hall, says he'll make the keep smell like monsters, that it's dangerous, but jaskier just gently encourages him inside and they curl up together in front of the hearth, nice and warm.
from there its little bits and pieces of geralt showing his werewolfy-er side, like dragging in a deer one night to devour raw by the fire. (he looks bashful about it, but jaskier insists its a part of their routine on the road, helps geralt clean his muzzle afterword.) and jaskier slowly encouraging geralt to relax, come deeper into the keep, curl up in a real bed.
jaskier gets less mad, but never quite gets over the fact that geralt's family proved his fears right. geralt gets less ashamed, but never fully sheds his anxieties about being allowed inside. everyone else gets less tense, but never quite sheds the shame of nearly killing their brother in arms while he was fully cognizant-- or quite comfortable with a "monster in the keep". it's still their first winter, tho, so with any luck things will someday get smoothed out.
[the porny ending is that geralt knots all three of them and this wildly smooths over any remaining tensions, but thats just a little fun off-shoot, not the Official Daydream Ending]
#witcher tag#ogc tag#ummmmm im trying to think of further details but these are the broad strokes#its self indulgent a little overly angsty and has some back-and-forth issues#but /i/ enjoy it a lot i can like. visualize it in my brain very clearly#mmmm i think i couldve worded this better because usually my daydream starts at them at kaer morhen#and then goes on to have jaskier reveal the backstory#in a way i think is slightly better than ive worded it here#but ive spent long enough on this reply that i dont want to entirley rewrite it#EDIT:: added a new sentence that was meant to be there but i straight up forgot to type it out last night. whoops#highlighted in blue. if it looks/reads worse with the new shit hmu and i'll toss it. couldnt decide if i liked the idea of changing it sooo#cut removed & post reblogged cuz fuck it i make long posts sometimes and also u asked so now u have to look at my angsty werewolf daydream!#XP
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What Would You Do Without Me? (Jaskier x Reader)
Characters: Jaskier, Geralt
Fandom: The Witcher
Tags: Reader Insert, Female Pronouns, Pining, Heavy Flirting, Fluff, Cutesy, Hurt/Comfort
Warnings: Injury, a little sad and angsty at first.
Word Count: 6k words.
Summary: Y/N is intent on exploring perilous lands and Jaskier, ever at her side, agrees to go wit her. His presence and comfort prove more helpful than she could have imagined.
A/N: I read this great piece by @lia-writes and was inspired to write some cute hurt/comfort of Jaskier myself. Hope you all like it! :)
AO3: Link
“No” Geralt insisted, not giving in.
“Well, I’m going!” You assured, turning to Jaskier. You were received with a concerned and cautious glance from the bard. “What about you?”
He rolled his eyes in a dramatic fashion and nodded his head at you.
“Of course I’m going with you, whatever will you do without me?”
You had to grin to his response, and so did Jaskier.
“Go ahead” Geralt interrupted. “But don’t blame me if you get killed”
“It is settled then” Jaskier patted the witcher’s back, earning a grunt from him.
Leaving the witcher alone in the inn, you walked outside with the bard.
“Perhaps this will make for a fantastic song” He started speaking as you went to the horses, too used to his ranting to have to turn around to him. “If we survive your reckless adventure, that is”
“So you do agree with Geralt” You briefly smirked at him over your shoulder.
“Uh, yes, I do” Noticing you walking ahead, he jogged a bit to stand by you. “I just didn’t want to say it in front of him”
“And give him the satisfaction of telling him he was right”
“Precisely”
You chuckled, absently glancing around the town as you made it to your horses.
“I mean, we are walking straight into uncharted territory, Y/N” Jaskier insisted. “We literally don’t know what sort of monster might be lurking in there"
“That’s what I want to find out” You nudged him in the ribs, to which he frowned. There was unease to his gesture as his eyebrows knitted together. “What lays at the outskirts of this town?”
“Possibly death”
“Or perhaps just another rumor and it is perfectly safe”
“Geralt didn’t want to go”
“Geralt wasn’t scared, he just couldn’t be bothered to come”
“Still…”
“Relax, Jaskier, I will protect you”
“You’re lucky you’re delightful, Y/N”
-
Mountains could be seen in the distance. The atmosphere was completely quiet once away from the busy town. Only the sound of your horses hooves was heard in the complete silence.
You slightly turned in your saddle, glancing at Jaskier. He moved on his horse, eyes glancing all around him. His shoulders were tense. His hands tightly gripped the reins.
“You’re terribly quiet back there” Your comment seemed to bring him out of his thoughts. Possibly pessimistic ones that involved danger and injury.
“Forgive me, my lady, if I’m cautious about this mysterious desert land that people say is cursed” He sarcastically replied, dedicating you a mocking grin.
“If you’re so worried, then why did you come?”
“I just can’t say no to you”
You laughed a little and sent him a flirtatious look. A genuine smile appeared on his lips and his shoulders eased down. You were opening your mouth to tease him when your horse suddenly stopped.
Merely exchanging a glance with Jaskier first, you faced forward again. The horse stirred in the spot, anxiously stomping on the ground as it paced up and down.
“What’s wrong?” You leaned forward to gently caress his neck, but that didn’t help.
“Y/N” Jaskier uttered behind you, just barely loud enough for you to hear. “Do you feel that?”
You straightened up when you realized what he was talking about. A certain darkness seemed to reign in the air, enveloping you and bringing a tight knot to your throat. Something evil seemed to be lurking in the shadows, threatening and dangerous.
“I… Yes…” You replied, immediately regretting your foolish act of defiance.
During all your many travels with Geralt and Jaskier, nothing had happened. It was all fun as you mostly stayed in taverns and chatted with the bard. How naïve of you to believe that you couldn’t be touched for this reason. That nothing could ever happen to the witcher’s loyal companions, even without his presence.
“Perhaps we should go back to-“ Before Jaskier could finish his sentence, your horse cut him off.
He neighed and whipped his head around like he had seen a terrible apparition that didn’t reach your eyes. You desperately held on to the reins, but it was starting to become hard to stay on the saddle.
“Ah!” You shrieked when the horse stood in his hind legs and threw you off.
Your landing was rough and unpleasant, ridding you from all the air in your lungs. A blinding pain shot through your back, so overwhelming that you didn’t even know where it started. It just pulsated through your whole body as you struggled to breathe.
“Oh, gods!” Jaskier uttered, suddenly next to you. “Y/N!”
For a moment you grew disoriented as the pain claimed all your focus. You grimaced, trying to process anything. How had he gotten to you so quickly? What had happened? What did the horse see? Were you in danger?
“Are you alright?” Jaskier hovered over you, reaching out with his hands but being too afraid to touch you. “Speak to me!”
You gaped, breathless, and clung on to his arm. He scrambled for words as he gingerly pulled at you to sit you up. Then you could finally take a breath and recover. You finally got your bearings back as you locked eyes with him.
“I-I’m alright” You gulped, gasping as your heart thumped against your chest. “I think…”
Jaskier dropped his head and sighed in relief. His arm under your hands was shaking just as much as your entire body was.
“Can you move?” He kindly asked you as soon as you found with his blue eyes fixed on you.
Still slightly dazed, you nodded your head and let go of him. You folded your legs to try and stand up. At least you didn’t think you were hurt, it was probably just the shock of the impact.
However, as soon as you leaned a hand on the ground to push yourself up, that lacerating pain returned. It shot up from your wrist until it reached your shoulder. You screamed out, clutching your arm to your chest and rocking forward.
“What! What’s wrong?!” Jaskier urgently patted your knees.
You had to take a few deep breaths to calm yourself. Tears arrived to your eyes, and you only felt worse at the look of utter sadness and worry in his expression.
“My arm…” You breathed out, barely being able to move it. “I hurt my arm, it hurts so much…”
Jaskier stared at you helplessly. For a brief moment you thought he would break out crying himself. There was a long pause until he frantically stood up and moved around.
“Alright, we’re going back” You heard him mutter behind you. “Up you go first”
His arms snuck under your arms and he grunted as he lifted you up. The sudden change of height made you slightly dizzy. Or it could be just the dull ache that went from your right shoulder down to your wrist.
Jaskier hesitated to move, wanting to make sure that you could stand. When he assured that you wouldn’t fall back down, he hurried to step in front of you.
“I-I’ll take a look” He muttered, softly placing his hands on your shoulder.
Despite the delicate manner in which his fingers moved, you hissed in pain at the smallest of grazes. Jaskier heaved a restless sigh and watched you, eyes laced with concern.
“I-I don’t actually know much about this…” The bard shrugged, seemingly small and helpless. “It is a bit swollen”
You nodded your head and clutched the injured spot. The pain was so intense that it made it impossible for you to find your voice.
“Geralt probably knows more than I do” Jaskier added with a sudden cheerfulness that could be nothing but make pretend. “He might be able to help you!”
Once again, you solely nodded your head. You were pursing your lips so tightly that they hurt. Facing your back to the bard, you returned with your horse. The animal nudged his head against your collarbone as an apology for having done you any harm.
“Can you actually ride?” Jaskier’s nervous tone didn’t quite help your anguish. “Perhaps we should ride together, so-”
“I can ride” You urgently interrupted him, struggling to even breathe through the pain. “Just let’s get back as soon as possible, please”
“Right… Yes, of course” Meek and obedient, the bard helped you get up on your horse.
He lingered by your side even once you were safely on the saddle. With a resigned touch to your leg, he finally went to ride his own horse, knowing there wasn’t much else he could do for now.
-
Luckily, you hadn’t been through a lot of pain in your life. Unluckily, this one was making you wish you could just faint and forsake yourself to a peaceful slumber.
You were hunched over in the saddle. By the point you finally made it back, you were at the end of your rope. As soon as you lightly pulled at the reins to stop your horse, Jaskier’s stallion to your left halted as well. The bard nearly threw himself off the horse to the ground in order to help you down.
His hands, clumsy but gentle, fell on your hips. He pulled at you until you were gracefully placed on the ground. You leaned into his touch, feeling too weak to stand. Not only was the pain becoming unbearable because of the intensity and duration, but your arm was also mildly numb and it was a very unpleasant sensation. Discomfort and nausea filled you and made you want to cry in frustration.
“Alright, stand still” There was distress in Jaskier’s voice as well.
“What are you doing?” You feebly asked as you leaned your head on his shoulder.
“Trying to…” He mumbled, wrapping an arm around your side and attempting to sweep your feet into the air. “There we go”
You were scooped into his arms, much to your relief. Having to hold your own weight proved exhausting on itself. You snuggled closer to him, shivering and whimpering, as you sought every ounce of comfort he could provide you with.
“Sh, it’s alright” He shushed, hoisting you up to properly hold you against him. “Geralt will help you, we’re almost there”
Jaskier strained as he walked as fast as he could. The distance between there and the inn seemed never ending for both of you. You didn’t think you could take the pain for much longer. On his side, Jaskier was having a hard time carrying you, but he was more preoccupied with healing you first. He never stopped whispering words of comfort to you. It broke his heart to see you in so much pain.
-
“That damn witcher” Jaskier swore through grit teeth, quitting his pacing to sit by you in the bed he had settled you in. “Why does he always wander around?”
You were a mess, trying not to sob in front of him. You were mortified enough already knowing he was so worried about you. You refused to, on top of all, start bawling your eyes out.
“He should be back any minute” Jaskier kissed the top of your head. “Hold on for a bit longer, love”
You just nodded, mentally cursing Geralt yourself for not being there. He would know what injury you were facing, as well as perhaps having a potion to eliminate the pain.
Too restless to sit by your side anymore, Jaskier sprung up from the bed. He walked over to the cupboard and rummaged through the drawers. You wanted to ask what he was doing, but were simply too drained to speak up.
“Ah-ha!” He finally exclaimed, grabbing something and turning to you. “I knew it was here somewhere”
You observed the foulard he was holding and peered at him in confusion.
“We can make a sling out of it!” His excited grin comforted you slightly and reminded you to breathe. “That way you can keep your injured arm in place”
He fiddled with it and approached you once more. Just as he was trying to tie it around you, the door of the room opened.
“Oh, thank the gods” You and Jaskier sighed at the same time.
“You’re alive” Geralt greeted you, solely glancing at you.
“Not quite” You sulkily replied, being fed up with your injury.
His golden eyes fell upon you and his deadpan expression turned to anger at the sight.
“Geralt, please help” Jaskier followed him around the room as Geralt came in. “Y/N fell of the horse when-“
“The horse got scared?” He sarcastically finished the sentence, dropping his satchel on the other bed and searching it.
“I literally don’t have the strength to put up with an ‘I told you so’, Geralt” You sighed, clenching your fists in annoyance and helplessness. Your shaky voice was proof enough of the distress you were experiencing. “You were right, I was stupid to go, please tell me you have a potion or something for this pain. Please…”
Jaskier returned to your side while the witcher did his thing. The bard was careful enough to sit on your good side and rub your back there where the pain didn’t reach.
Geralt towered over you, offering you a small bottle that contained a clear liquid. You didn’t hesitate to take it from him and desperately drown it all in one gulp.
“Ugh” You shivered when a wave of nausea hit you. “That was disgusting”
“Yeah, well” The witcher tilted his head as he took the bottle back from you. “It will help with the pain. What hurts?”
“Her arm” Jaskier replied for you. “I think she landed on it when she fell”
“Stand up, I’ll take a look at it” Geralt briefly turned to leave the empty bottle atop the cupboard.
Along with Jaskier’s support, of his arm once more around your waist, you stood to your feet. You forced yourself to stay up while your whole body complained and threatened with collapsing.
Geralt faced you once more, so you pointed him to your right arm.
“Let me see” Was all he said, so you moved your shirt to reveal your bare shoulder.
He carefully squeezed, making you squirm at his rough calloused hands. Just the briefest touch to your delicate skin made you grimace. He kept palpating your shoulder until he seemed to come up with a diagnosis and let go of you with a thoughtful hum.
“Turn around” He asked you, and you did as well, now revealing the skin on your back.
“Oof” Jaskier exclaimed behind you. “That’s a nasty bruise! It’s all purple and-“
“Jaskier” Geralt quickly scolded him, but it was too late.
“Oh, no, is it dislocated?” Your mind started racing. “Do you have to put it back on the socket? T-That will hurt even more! I don’t… I don’t think I can take-”
“It’s not dislocated” Geralt turned you around to be facing each other once more. “You were lucky”
As you recovered from that scare, you felt Jaskier falling into place behind you. In a gesture that surprised you, he wrapped his arms around you from behind and rested his chin on your healthy shoulder. You smiled a bit, imagining it was his apology for having worried you.
“Try not to move it” The witcher concluded, stepping away from you. “You’ll be fine, you just need to rest”
“W-Where are you going?” The bard asked next to your ear, but Geralt didn’t reply.
When you were left alone in the room once more, you exhaled. It was a big relief that you hadn’t badly injured yourself. Jaskier’s gentleness also invited you to further relax.
“Phew…” He sighed, rubbing his thumb over your rib. “You gave me quite a scare there”
You just hummed in response. Your knees were nearly giving in under your weight, but his arms lightly tightened around your stomach.
“Alright then” With baffling ease, he left a small kiss on your shoulder. “If my lady allows me, I will now look after you”
You chuckled as he took you with him to the bed once more. Once you were sitting, he went to retrieve the foulard from before. In the meantime, you started to feel quite groggy, probably because of the effects of the potion Geralt gave you. Finding that your thoughts were tangled and messy, you paused.
“You’re spoiling me, Jas” You then told him with a sleepy smile.
He laughed at his new nickname but didn’t comment on it. Instead, he stood before you with his hands on his hips.
“Absolutely, it will make for a quick recovery” The way he smiled now, with so much relief and renewed energy, made you calmer than you had been all day. “I will gladly spoil you”
He carefully put your injured arm in the foulard, then wrapping his arms around your neck to tie the ends diagonally over your good shoulder. When he moved away, he was still smiling like that.
“Now lie down, Geralt told you to rest”
You wearily nodded your head and closed your eyes. The pain was finally subsiding, making you relax your muscles and make you aware of how tense they had been for hours.
“I am sleepy” You groggily lifted your legs up to the bed.
“No wonder, love” Jaskier’s fingers tenderly fell over your healthy arm, pushing you slightly until you were lying down. “Today was quite the ordeal”
“Mhm” You sighed, finally finding comfort and calmness to what had only been chaos. “Will you stay with me?”
You blindly reached out until your hand fell over his arm and you squeezed it tight, eliciting a fond chuckle from Jaskier. The bed lightly shifted with his weight as he sat on the corner, but you weren’t satisfied with that. You frowned and whined, barely managing to open your eyes to look at him.
“No, here” You kept tugging at him, trying to make him understand that you wanted him to lie down with you. The only thing missing in your perfect comfort was him. His arms around you. His fidgety and warm body against you. His voice in your ear, whispering soft words with his delightful accent.
“Oh” Jaskier finally realized, smiling like that once more. “Of course”
As he occupied the space next to you, on your good side, the bard lowly laughed to himself. You stirred, trying to fit in the small space with him. You settled over him at last with your head on his chest, not putting pressure in your bad arm and instead squeezing your left one against his torso. At that moment, you were confident that you had never felt so cozy and peaceful before.
Jaskier continued giggling under his breath, even as his arms lovingly fell around you. He brought your frame closer to him as to not let you lay so close to the edge of the bed.
“What’s so amusing?” You went to slap him in the chest, just then remembering your arm was kept in place with Jaskier’s improvised sling.
“You are quite adorable when you’re sleepy” He playfully wrinkled his nose at you.
“Stop…” You nuzzled his shoulder, only making him laugh more as you proved his point.
“Are you comfortable?” His hand tenderly pressed against your back in a gentle massage that relieved your sore shoulder. “Do you need anything else?”
“I’m alright… Now I am” You sighed, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to give in to the welcoming sleep. “Thank you, Jaskier, for everything”
“It is my pleasure” His voice had lowered into a whisper, helping you fall asleep with even more ease. “I am quite comfortable myself, honestly”
You smiled and nuzzled his neck, treasuring his warmth and loving affection. Despite your many shared travels and adventures, you had never been this close. Nonetheless, it felt natural and comforting.
“You are so great, I love you” You shivered as his hand caressed your hair.
You didn’t notice he abruptly stopped at your words. Nor that he was suddenly holding his breath.
He was saying something to you now, but you were already asleep.
-
A deep voice brought you out of your slumber. After a few seconds of haziness, you recognized it was Geralt. You couldn’t differentiate the words he was saying, but you felt Jaskier’s voice resonating in his chest under your ear as he replied.
You jolted up slightly, cruelly dragged away from the comfortable stupor, when the door was slammed closed. The bard stirred under you as well, surprised by your movement.
“Y/N?” He cautiously asked, his fingers brushing over your ear as he secured your hair behind it so it didn’t fall over your face. “Are you awake?”
You lazily opened your eyes, being welcomed by the sweetest of looks in his eyes as he peered down at you. A smile immediately appeared on his mouth at your intertwined gazes.
“Was that Geralt?”
“Yes, he… Came to check on you”
You wondered if the sudden restlessness and hesitance present in Jaskier’s voice was a product of your imagination. Perhaps you were still too drowsy.
“How are you feeling, by the way?” He resumed, gently squeezing his arms around you. “Any better?”
“Yeah” You pouted at the thought that you would have to leave that position. Being engulfed by him, you wanted nothing more than to stay there forever. “It doesn’t hurt as much”
Jaskier uttered a sound that was a mixture between a sigh and a chuckle. His bright grin reminded you of the one that seemed to illuminate your world before you fell asleep. Then when you needed it the most, when you needed him the most.
“Well, I am happy to hear that” Apparently, the bard had nothing but loving gestures for you as he gingerly squeezed your arm. “I was worried about you”
Your eyes met and refused to look away. Something stirred within you with the sudden realization of how close you truly were, mere inches separating your faces. Of how sweet and tender he had been. How caring, how gentle. Gentle Jaskier.
Despite the wonderful moment, your body complained. You groaned, knowing you needed to get up and eat or drink something. After all, you didn’t even know how long you were asleep for. That thought also made you aware that Jaskier hadn’t moved an inch, for your sake. Surely, he must have been feeling sore himself after maintain that position for so long.
“Thank you, Jaskier” You carefully leaned your hand on his stomach to push yourself up. “You have been so kind”
“That I have” His playful and flirtatious tone, that you hadn’t quite heard since before the accident, had thankfully returned. “Perhaps you should give me a token of your gratitude?”
Not without effort, you had managed to sit up on your own. When you turned to him, he had rolled over on his side now and was resting his jaw on his hand. You grinned at the cool demeanor he displayed.
“Heroes don’t ask for rewards, my dear Jaskier”
He pursed his lips in a badly contained smirk that still crept up to his mouth.
“I am not a hero, I am a knight. Saving damsels in distress”
“Don’t get used to it” You leaned closer to him and lovingly pecked his cheek. “But thank you, oh valiant knight in shining armor”
Jaskier shrugged with feigned bashfulness, but you could see a faint blush on his cheeks.
“You’re welcome” He nimbly stood to his feet, running to your side in case you needed any sort of assistance. “In any case, you… already said thank you before, remember?”
You tried to sort out your thoughts, too distracted by his magnetic presence next to you. By his charm. His beautiful smile, his lingering glances and lively blue eyes. The way he reached out to lightly touch the small of your back, asking you if you needed any help without using words at all.
“Um…” You muttered in an attempt to focus. “Did I?”
“Aha…” Jaskier calmly followed you around the room.
Upon seeing your reflection on the mirror atop the cupboard, you gasped in outrage. You were suffering from a terrible case of bed hair. With your one healthy arm, you reached out to try and comb your hair. Until a sudden memory flashed in your head. Heat arrived to your entire face, but you tried to ignore it as well as Jaskier, who still expected a proper answer from you.
Instead of giving it to him, and with the mental excuse of feeling slightly cold, you went to pick up your forgotten jacket from the chair it rested on. You were disappointed, however, when you remembered you couldn’t move your arm.
“You seem flustered” Jaskier observed, softly taking the garment from your hands. “Is something the matter?”
You couldn’t quite get mad at his sarcastic tone as he put your arm on the sleeve, first the healthy one. As he moved to stand to your other side, he paused and stared.
“No, I’m not flustered” You saw his smile with the corner of your eye.
Jaskier waited for a few more seconds. In the end, he chuckled and you prayed that you weren’t blushing. It was a mild relief when he began carefully maneuvering your injured arm out of the sling and into the other sleeve.
Your gaze lingered on the ground and away from his eyes. He positioned himself before you once he was done adjusting the jacket over your shoulders and reclaimed your attention.
“You do remember it, then” He put his hands on his hips. “Hm?”
“I do, Jas”
“Well, did you mean it?”
“I… Y-Yeah”
“Would you say it again?”
The flirtatious atmosphere shifted in favor of a more serious one. His eyes were now glinting with emotion and expectation. You opened your mouth to say it, to show him that you actually were fond of him. Fond of him in such a way, that was. However, the words got stuck in your throat and you were unable to pronounce them.
“It’s alright” Jaskier suddenly took your hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “You don’t actually have to say it”
“I don’t need to, do I?” You looked at him through your eyelashes.
Jaskier stirred in the spot and cleared his throat, apparently flustered. You eyed him carefully and saw him opening and closing his mouth like a fish. When he gazed at you again, you smiled at him.
The two of you chuckled together. There was so much left unsaid that was implied in that shared laugh. The nervousness, the familiarity, the longing.
Your breath caught in your throat when his hand found its way to your face.
“Are you really alright?” He asked, quite seriously now.
“I am now” You sweetly smiled at him, earning a smitten look.
Jaskier took a deep breath, nodding to himself. You couldn’t help but to notice the way his eyes kept drifting down to your lips. Betraying your yearning, yours did the same.
It wasn’t until you felt a soft squeeze in your hand that you remembered he was holding it. You used it to softly push yourself forward. A chuckle escaped your lips when your noses bumped against each other.
Your arm throbbed. As well as that, you felt light-headed, but you couldn’t tell if it was because Jaskier’s closeness took your breath away or because of your injury. You leaned towards the first, since you felt completely elated.
Butterflies flew inside your stomach in anticipation. You could feel the soft velvety touch of his lips on yours already when a sound broke the magic spell.
“Ugh…” You cowered back in shame, holding your growling stomach.
The wonderful sound of Jaskier’s laughter filled the room.
“Come on” Jaskier tugged at your hand, refusing to let it go. “We need to get some food in you”
“But…” Your glance fell over the door. At the other side of it were countless of indiscreet eyes, and you were far too fond of this newfound intimacy with Jaskier to put up with that. “My… My hair is… a mess”
He looked up at it, considering it for a moment, and then nodded.
“Yeah, right” Jaskier gawked at you as you hurriedly stepped away from him.
A part of you cursed your stupidity for hiding. The other one, though, urged you to get away from his prying eyes that were likely to spot your flush.
Pretending to focus hard on the task ahead, you picked up your hair brush and began furiously carding through your hair trying to get rid of the knots. With your one arm, it was a challenging task.
“Wow, wow, wow” The bard was back at your side in the blink of an eye. “What are you doing?”
“Combing my hair…”
“Why so violently?”
“I always do it like that, it’s easier to untangle it and-“
“Give me that” He took the comb from your hands and shook his head in disapproval as he moved behind you. “How are you not bald already?”
You had to chuckle, still endeared that he was so adamant on looking after you. The comb gently passed through your hair as Jaskier’s hands slowly worked. Your neck tingled when his fingers travelled through your tufts. If there was any unease left in you, it vanished the more his fingers sunk in your hair.
“That’s better” He concluded, letting your mane gracefully fall over your back. To top it all off, he bent down slightly to kiss you on the head. You glanced down, smiling to yourself. How could you not adore him?
Determined to focus on anything else not to throw yourself at him and kiss him silly, you tried to gather your now combed hair to tie it up. An inevitable grunt crawled up your throat at your useless arm that made it impossible to finish simple tasks such as that.
“Fine, I’ll do that too” Jaskier held his hand out, with the fake reluctance of someone who definitely was excited to spoil you even more. “Give me the thing”
“What thing?”
“That ribbon you always carry”
Your hand fell over your wrist in awe, surprised that he had noticed such a small detail. Pulling at the ends of the thin red ribbon to untie it from your wrist, you gave it to him over your shoulder.
“Thaaank you” You bit your lip when your hands brushed and with his lively reply.
His fingers reached out from behind until they picked up all of your hair, dragging across your temples to make sure no tuft escaped from his grip. As he gently gathered all of your hair into his hands, you sighed in delight to his further gentle cares.
“Was that a happy sigh?” The fond amusement was obvious in his voice.
“Yes…” You shivered when his fingertips graced your neck as he tied the ribbon around your hair and secured it there.
“What for?” Jaskier took ahold of your shoulders and turned you around to face him.
“You”
“Me?”
“What would I do without you, Jas?”
The bard smirked, and even if you mirrored his expression, you felt slightly embarrassed by how clingy you suddenly felt. Jaskier chuckled and infected you with soft laughter.
Craving his closeness, you softly kissed him in the jaw and then hid in his chest. As you buried your face on his shoulder, he tensed up slightly, perhaps as flustered as you.
“What are you doing?” He asked, his hand tenderly cradling the back of your head.
“I’m trying to hug you” Was your excuse as you reached out with your good arm and put it across his back to demonstrate.
“Oh” His arms immediately pressed you against him. “Like this?”
You hummed, happily nuzzling his chest. Honestly, all that pain was nearly worth it just for bringing you so impossibly close. For earning you his delicate cares and loving attention.
When you looked up at him, your gazes met once more. You could feel the romantic atmosphere that surrounded you, nearly being able to touch it. Not breaking away from his embrace, you tilted your head up. His lips were right there, so close, so reachable. So enticing.
His mouth perked up, grinning at your gesture, and he leaned closer too. He closed his eyes, and you did the same as his arms squeezed you even closer to his torso.
“You two!” A deep angry voice exclaimed just as the door violently swung open.
“Dammit, Geralt!” Jaskier complained, glancing at the witcher.
He merely pointed a finger at you and scowled, apparently either oblivious or unfazed by what you had been doing before he so rudely erupted in.
“If you’re not there in two minutes, I’m eating without you” That said, Geralt stormed off.
Exchanging a glance with Jaskier, the two of you giggled like two mischievous children.
“Let’s go, the white wolf is hungry” He reluctantly pulled away from you. However, he refused to completely abandon your touch and took ahold of your hand.
“He was waiting for us all this time?” You gawked at him, following him as he reached the door.
“I… Might have forgotten to tell you” Jaskier grimaced in apology, not meeting your eyes. “Even forgotten he was there…”
You just laughed and exited the room with him. Even if, as you had foreseen, the noisy crowd that gathered outside harshly broke the sweet magical spell that hung over you and Jaskier.
-
Geralt wolfed down his food, barely paying any mind to the two of you sitting across from him. Even with your playful and even childish gestures, like lowly laughing together, all the nudging and whispering and leaning into each other.
“Cut it out” The witcher finally complained, not bothering to glance at you.
“Sorry…” Jaskier mumbled, leaving you with a last pat to your knee before focusing on his friend. “Where have you been, by the way?”
“I went to the outskirts” You intently listened as you nibbled on the food before you. “There was a ghoul there, that’s why your horse got scared”
“Oh” You could only say in return. “Well, thank you. Not only on my behalf, I’m sure the people of this town are grateful now that they’re safe”
“Hm” Geralt only hummed.
“That’s good…” Jaskier absently picked at his bread. “Yeah…”
“You barely had a bite” You observed, watching his full plate. “You should eat something too”
“I can’t eat” He dramatically sighed and peered at you. “I have butterflies in my stomach”
You let out an involuntary guffaw at the unexpected comment. You could discern that wonderful bright grin of his before you hid your face on his shoulder.
“Is there something between you two?” Geralt demanded to know, forcing you to look back at him.
Both you and the bard stuttered as you tried to find a proper response. It turned out that you didn’t even know it yourselves. There was certainly something, but what exactly, you couldn’t tell.
You shrugged your shoulders and that immediately reminded you of your injury, nearly forgotten. A sharp pain started in your shoulder blade and spread down to your arm and wrist like it had done at the start of the day.
“Shit!” You hunched forward and angrily slammed the table.
“What happened?!” Jaskier’s palm settled over your back in alarm.
“I fucking shrugged!” You took a deep breath to calm down from the sudden shock.
“Maybe that will remind you to be more careful next time” Geralt said as he stood up. “Instead of pulling any reckless deeds again”
“Are we leaving?”
“Yes, I’m not putting up with you two”
You were equally amused and mortified by his blatant annoyance with your cutesy interactions. Instead of commenting on it, however, the both of you stood up and quietly followed him.
The air and the sun outside were refreshing after such a long day. Besides, Jaskier’s lingering hand on your back brought you that comfort he had been providing you with all day.
As you neared the horses, the bard paused next to yours. A sly smirk had mysteriously appeared on his expression, and you found out why before you could question it.
He smacked his lips against yours, sneakily yet casually, and ran away.
“Jaskier!” You called him, stopping him before he could escape.
“Yes, Y/N?” He innocently turned to you, like nothing had happened.
“I… Help me up on the horse, please?”
Without a word, he returned by your side and settled his hands on your hips. Before he could boost you up, however, you leaned your hand on his shoulder.
“It has been quite a day” You said as an excuse to keep him close. “Will you stay by my side?”
“I am your knight in shining armor, after all” He winked an eye at you.
You played with your hair and moved in closer, painstakingly slow. Every centimeter of your body started tingling when you finally met on a proper kiss. Slow but passionate. Tender and delicate. Loving and demanding.
Jaskier laughed against your mouth as he pulled away.
“Are you trying to seduce me, you little devil?” His lips had never been so attractive as they curved up against yours.
“Perhaps…” You innocently batted your eyelashes at him. “But you’re not allowed to fall in love”
“I’m afraid it’s far too late for that, Y/N”
You chuckled in awe at his words and leaned in again. Geralt, already up on Roach, loudly cleared his throat behind you. You had to suppress a guffaw when a flush appeared on Jaskier’s cheeks. To divert attention from it, he nodded and silently helped you up on the horse once and for all.
You smiled to yourself as you absently caressed your horse’s neck. Surely, it had been a long day, but you wouldn’t change a thing. Even as you towered over him, Jaskier smirked at you.
“What would you do without me, love?” He playfully squeezed your knee before he left to ride his horse. Despite his teasing, the sweetest of smiles was plastered on his lips.
Geralt went first, but as he passed you by, Jaskier winked an eye at you. You couldn’t help but noticing that he didn’t let you go first this time.
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#rfi writings#witcher#the witcher#jaskier x reader#the witcher imagine#witcher imagine#jaskier imagine#fluff#jaskier fluff#reader insert#not requested#faves#ficlet#witcher ficlet#the witcher ficlet#jaskier ficlet
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9~ i’ve been in denial
tell me your problems (i’ll chase them away) Internal scars can be difficult to deal with but Eskel vows to heal any that Jaskier is weighed down by if it’s the last thing he does…
A/N: this was meant to be angsty but it’s festive season n all so here’s the most fluff we can get rn <3
@random-nerd-3 @betaray-jones @w-s-kibela @in-love-with-writing002 @screaming-flapjacks @blueboobutterfly @havenoffandoms @lasaga666
previous chapter
-
“Hey, Jaskier?” Eskel asks as they reach their room.
Jaskier hums, perching on the edge of the bed and all but peeling his boots off, making a face at the way his feet free themselves with a soft squelching noise.
“Why haven’t you changed clothes yet?” Eskel continues, not exactly sure what he’d been expecting but definitely not having expected the way Jaskier freezes, his pulse spiking.
It’s almost alarming how quickly Jaskier manages to turn his panic into a grin. “I’ve been reliably informed that this blue really brings out my eyes and I don’t see any reason not to flaunt that. Certainly helps with bargaining for another drink, you know?”
“No, I don’t,” Eskel replies slowly.
Jaskier laughs brightly, too brightly. “Well, yes, I suppose witchers don’t often have to rely on their sense of fashion for coin, what with the whole monster-hunting business and-”
“Jas.”
“-the twin swords you all seem to carry. I mean really, they’re very intimidating to most people and while they may be useful, they’re not exactly in style. At least you’ve got a splash of colour rather than-”
“Jaskier.”
“-just black, not that there’s anything wrong with black but it does often give the impression you’re dressed for a funeral and that’s a pretty morbid picture to paint for yourself! Unless it’s Valdo Marx’s funeral, which would truly be a momentous occasion if you ask-”
“Jaskier!”
The bard flinches.
Eskel exhales softly, trying his best to cause any kind of panic. “I’m not mad, I’m just… I’m just worried. You almost drowned in those clothes and you’re gonna make yourself ill if you don’t wear something clean and dry.”
A small smile blooms on Jaskier’s face but he shakes his head anyway. “I- uhm, I… I don’t have anything else… with me.”
It’s not that Eskel hadn’t already guessed that, at least deep down, but it hurts to hear the confession anyway. “Then you should borrow something of mine,” he says before he can change his mind about his decision.
Jaskier’s eyes widen as he looks towards Eskel like he’s just offered up the moon itself. “Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose.”
“I’m sure,” Eskel confirms before gesturing to where his bags are in the corner of the room. “You can just, uh, choose something you like. I’m afraid I don’t have bright colours but I do own more than funeral clothes.”
This time Jaskier’s laugh is genuine and he wastes no time in making his way over to the bags, carefully shuffling things around inside one before pulling out a black shirt that has long since faded into a soft, dark blue. The breeches he finds are just a shade darker but they match enough for him to look good when Eskel turns around again. Really good. In fact, he looks so good that Eskel suddenly understands what that woman from his last contract had been talking about when she’d said seeing her wife in her clothes was a truly magical experience.
“That bad?” Jaskier asks, half-laughing but clearly not very amused if the sour scent of worry is anything to go by.
Eskel shakes his head, forgetting how to use words for a second. “No, no. Not bad at all, it’s just… I didn’t think my clothes could ever look so good.”
And he’s not even lying. He is surprised that his ordinary clothes can seem so fashionable even if that’s probably a result of Jaskier generally being Jaskier and he’s even more surprised to realise that, even though they’re clearly big for him, they don’t just comically hang off him - Geralt certainly hadn’t mentioned that his- that the bard is built so well.
The red that floods Jaskier’s face most definitely does not match his new outfit but Eskel thinks it looks stunning all the same. Not that he says that aloud, no, he’s taken to biting his tongue so he doesn’t say anything else stupid and scare off his favourite bard.
“I think I’m going to use the stars as an excuse to sleep again. Could you-” he bites his lip for a moment, “-uhm, that is, could you try and be back here for when I wake up?”
Eskel frowns, letting go of his tongue. “Back here?”
Jaskier exhales softly, shakily. “Or not. I mean, of course you must not be tired again since witchers don’t need as much sleep anyway but I- you mentioned travelling on together?”
Ah, so they’re not over the doubt yet.
“Are you losing your memory, bardling, or do you still remember what we discussed at the table earlier?” Eskel asks, trying his best to sound like he’s teasing instead of insulting.
Jaskier’s eyebrows furrow as he bites his lip and Eskel simply waits, smiling softly when Jaskier’s eyes eventually widen and his scent softens into hope and relief. “When you said you’d choose me?”
Nodding, Eskel gestures to the bed. “I meant it, and now I’ve chosen to forget my bedroll again.”
With a pointed glance at Eskel’s bags by his feet, Jaskier raises an eyebrow. “Is that your attempt at flirting me into bed, darling?
Really not having predicted that kind of response, Eskel’s mind decides to stop functioning for a moment. He would be embarrassed but the way Jaskier laughs makes him reconsider his urge to flee and just shrug instead. Neither of them say anything else as they settle under the blanket again but a soft gasp escapes Eskel when Jaskier curls around him bit by bit until they’re almost entirely pressed together from Eskel’s chin resting on Jaskier’s head to their feet locked around one another’s. It’s the closest Eskel has ever been with anyone outside of Kaer Morhen’s cold winters spent huddled in front of the hearth and he can’t stop the smile that takes over his face.
“Promise you won’t leave while I’m asleep?” Jaskier asks sleepily.
“I promise I’ll be here when you wake up,” Eskel confirms, wanting not for the first and probably not the last time to literally knock some remorseful sense into Geralt’s thick skull.
“Thank you,” Jaskier mumbles just before he drifts off, most likely missing the way Eskel quietly confesses that it’s his pleasure.
He doesn’t sleep for even a second, he doesn’t need to after all the sleeping they’ve done in the past few days, but he does let himself relax and true to his word, he doesn’t move a muscle until Jaskier stirs again.
“Hello there,” Jaskier yawns, grinning up at him before he rolls out of Eskel’s arms and stretches his limbs as if he were a cat.
Eskel hums, returning the bard’s smile. “How do you feel?”
He already knows that Jaskier will feel better, it’s obvious that he would after sleeping off the siren-induced exhaustion, but it only feels right to ask. Besides, Jaskier’s eyes light up when he does and the warmth of his happiness fuels Eskel’s own.
“Like I could survive a lightning strike,” Jaskier replies theatrically, and Eskel can’t stop the snort that escapes him. Thankfully, Jaskier only rolls his eyes. “Well alright, if you want it in simple terms then I suppose I feel great, much better, well-rested, all of those plain descriptions.”
“What’s wrong with being plain?” Eskel asks, turning onto his side and resting his head on one palm just in time to see Jaskier glare at him like an overly passionate professor would at a hopelessly dispassionate student.
“I have never been plain a day in my life and I certainly do not intend to start now! Do you know how many ways there are to describe waking up, Eskel? I could list them for hours and still not be finished! And not to mention that after you have what may very well be one of the best nights of sleep you’ve had in years- no, decades, that you really cannot be satisfied with anything even close to a prosaically plain answer!”
Jaskier looks ready to fight someone to prove his point but all Eskel can focus on is that someone would want to poetically declare a night with him one of the best nights of sleep they’ve had in not even years but decades. He’d be lying if he said that, minus the sleeping part, he doesn't feel the exact same way.
“Eskel, are you even listening to me?” Jaskier whines, poking his cheek.
He blinks, bringing his attention back to Jaskier with a genuine smile. “I think I get your point, though I’m no bard and will have to make do with being plain.”
Jaskier scoffs. “You, plain? I think not. Have you even looked in a mirror recently?”
While Eskel is busy trying to recall the last time he’d looked in a river and wondering if catching his reflection in his ale counts, Jaskier springs off the bed with a nervous laugh. “I um, I didn’t mean any offence by that, truly, I was just…”
“I don’t own a mirror,” Eskel says, politely overlooking how worried Jaskier seems to look for some reason and the way he’s anxiously rubbing his fingertips together the way he tends to do when he’s expecting the worst.
“Then we’ll be needing a trip to the market,” Jaskier replies easily, the tension in his expression melting into both amusement and disbelief. Eskel doesn’t usually like going to the market on account of the not quite subtle stares and not quite hushed whispers, but he might be looking forward to it this time.
“Right now?” Eskel asks, which prompts Jaskier to remember he’s still wearing Eskel’s borrowed clothes and flush red again; Jaskier points an accusing finger at him but dissolves into laughter before he can say anything, laughing for so long that Eskel wonders if he’s gone mad. Finally, he shakes his head and pulls on his doublet, the lighter blue somehow working well with the rest of the outfit.
Eskel stays still, watching as Jaskier weaves his fingers through his hair so it sweeps to one side and pulls on his boots before picking up his lute and winking. “Might be useful to gather a little extra coin first. There’ll be food waiting for you if you decide you want to listen to more of my singing.”
As if there’s even the slightest possibility that he wouldn’t.
Still, Jaskier’s footsteps have long since faded when Eskel finally sits up and wonders how he so quickly went from leaving at the first hint of dawn to waiting for a bard to buy him a mirror. Not that he’s complaining, he might have a mean poker face but even he couldn’t pretend that finding a plateful of food waiting for him on a quiet corner table doesn’t warm his heart.
He doesn’t know what the song is about this time but it sounds lovely all the same, although not quite as lovely as the bright smile Jaskier sends his way when he notices him. He has all of three seconds to wonder what the mischievous look in those bright blue eyes is about before Jaskier starts singing about the rose of the wolves - about him - again, which leads to everyone raising their tankards at him even if they’re only half-awake.
“You don’t have to sing about me every time I enter the room,” Eskel tells him as he finishes up.
Jaskier shrugs, making sure his now-cased lute is balanced safely before slumping into the seat opposite him in yet another confusing but endearing show of priorities. “It’s the least I can do.”
No, it’s really not.
“I appreciate it,” Eskel says warmly, not sure he’d win in trying to convince Jaskier that he’s done far more than is expected of anyone for witchers, whether or not he’d initially meant to. Another day, perhaps.
“The markets will open soon, are you ready?” Jaskier asks once they near the end of their meals.
Eskel raises an eyebrow as if to remind Jaskier that witchers are known to always be ready for anything. Jaskier offers him a sheepish grin. “Yes, yes, I know you all have enhanced everything and all but what I meant is, do you want to go right now?”
He finishes his drink before replying. “Lead the way, bardling.”
Jaskier grins so widely that Eskel is afraid his face may crack. But all that happens is Jaskier practically inhales whatever is left of his food before rising to his feet and slinging the lute case over his shoulder. He’d ask why Jaskier is taking his lute with him but he knows the question would be thrown right back at him regarding the twin swords on his back so he doesn’t say anything, merely gesturing for Jaskier to lead the way and trying not to make it obvious how momentarily overwhelming he finds the subsequent scent of joy.
“I am going to find you the best mirror, darling, I swear!” Jaskier declares happily, and Eskel doesn’t have the heart to tell him he’s probably never going to actually use such an object.
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almost 22k and they're only just barely flirting, send help- no but really, i can’t believe the year is ending before any of my wips, oops :p
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thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher sideblog: @itsjaskier | next chapter
#jaskel#jaskier x eskel#jaskier#eskel#hurt jaskier#soft eskel#slow burn#getting together#fluff and angst#gratuitous use of nicknames#i'm sorry but it's just cute#hurt comfort#idiots in love#flirting#who even uses tumblr tags properly idk#anyway yeah we love to see a lil bit of progess :)#my writing#tmypicta
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I made a joke post about Legolas and Aragorn adopting a baby Geralt and raising him a few weeks ago, but I can’t get it out of my head, so I’m gonna expand on that AU. First post can be found here
So Legolas and Aragorn are basically just out on a vacation in the eastern part of Middle Earth, just taking a break and chilling around you know, when they stumble upon a child just outside the kingdom of Rivia (Yes I am keeping that)
The child is about three or four years old, with the peculiar outward appearance of big Yellow eyes and almost white hair, and it doesn’t seem to mind being out alone in the middle of the forest.
Both Legolas and Aragorn decide though that they will try to find the child’s parents, and they spend two days in Rivia searching for the parent of the child, or just someone who knows something, but they get no results. Most people are repelled by the child, saying that it’s cursed or the result of witchcraft, and both Aragorn and Legolas take offense by that as they had gotten attached to the child.
On the third day they eventually give up, and after a long discussion they decide to adopt the child, as again, they both got attached real fast.
When the two return to Gondor with the small boy whom they named Geralt, a lot of people get quite surprised, mostly because what and why. Their respective families have the same reaction.
The two realize quickly that Geralt is not a normal child.
First, they have no idea what he is. They first thought human, but when small bursts of magic started to come from him, and when his acute sense of smell was discovered, they scratched that idea.
Second, he refused to part with his wolf medallion. They didn’t know why, it had been inspected by a lot of people, including Gandalf himself, but it didn’t seem to have any type of spell or curse on it that made him so fiercely attached to it. And he couldn’t tell them anything about it because-
-Three, he barely speaks. At first they thought he was mute or deaf or something alike, but that didn’t seem to be the case as he could hear, and he did utter a few words here and there. He just chose not to speak, and mostly made cute little grunts when people spoke to him.
Legolas became a mother hen very quickly, and was very loving towards his strange child, and as a child Geralt didn’t mind it too much. As an adult however, then he just wishes his ada would stop smothering him (He secretly loves it).
Aragorn is a lot less lovey dovey, but still very caring and Geralt loves to be around him. He was very quick with teaching his child both sword techniques and manners, but his major priority was teaching him how to care for a horse.
Geralt was not a shy kid as many people believed, When it came down to it he was more than able to voice his opinion. He just, doesn’t like to talk. And because of that fact, he also grew up to be very poor with words and having a problem formulating himself, which backfired a few times in his life.
The thing is, he doesn’t like when others talk either. He just wants to sit around and brood in silence like the angsty boy he is, but none of his family members allow him to, as they are all very chatty and cheery.
Especially his two uncles Elladan and Elrohir and his aunt Tilda, like whenever either one of them are around he can kiss peace and quiet goodbye for at least a few days. It’s even worse when it’s all three.
Geral’t strange magic became a problem early on, as it was very unpredictable. He could do more simple things like start fires and create a protective shield, but also literally manipulate minds, which was not a pleasant thing, especially as he had a hard time controlling it in his youth.
Gandalf tried his best to teach the boy to control his magic, and he did manage to get a hang of it, but sometimes it could still act out in his adulthood when he felt particularly stressed out or angry.
That wasn’t the only problem that came with Geralt being of unknown origin, as sometimes Aragorn and Legolas didn’t know how to properly raise the boy, and what he really needed.
For example, when Geralt was around seven he fell ill. And with that I mean really ill, many feared that he would not survive.
Both Legolas and Aragorn were devastated and the former spent nearly all his time holding and cuddling his shaking and whimpering baby who was in too much pain for the caring parent to handle, and he started to stop eating just to always be able to be by his son’s side.
Aragorn couldn’t afford to drop all of his duties as king, even though he wanted to, but his mind was very absent during everything he did that did not involve caring for Geralt.
Geralt eventually got better, thankfully, but neither Aragorn nor Legolas would ever forget the fear they had felt for almost five months of their still small and fragile son being so close to death.
Geralt’s magic wasn’t only a bunch of negative stuff, it did also come to some benefits in his youth, especially when it came to worrying his Ada.
At around nine Geralt found out that he could temporarily vanish, aka become invisible, if he focused on it enough, which meant that his parents were forced to place a bell on him just to make out where he was. He took it off quite often and would usually be hanging around his frantic Ada, sipping his juice box and watch the scene unfold,
(And I know that’s not really in the Witcher canon, but I just thought it would be cute and this is my AU so fuck off)
Not too long after Geralt got a half elf cousin by the name of Brand, at at first he was confused by the small thing and why he was supposed to care, but as Brand grew older and learned to sit up and make noise, Geralt hated the small thing and just wished for it’s demise. It did not help that his parents loved the kid and would gladly babysit when the thing’s parents were busy, which meant he was forced to be around it.
When Geralt turned twenty two he left Gondor to find his own path (Much to his Ada’s terror because there’s so many ways for him to get hurt Aragorn how are you so calm about this), only equipped with the bare essentials for a life on the road, including a mare he named Roach, a descendant of Brego.
Geralt was very quick to pick up on his father’s habit of having conversations with his horse, and Roach was quite a good listener.
Geralt found his purpose when a child ran up to him while in a village and asked if he could slay the monster that had killed his sister in exchange for money, as his family had seen his swords.
Geralt complied, partly because he could need the money and partly because it would be nice to help, even though his facial expression remained a grim scowl.
And after killing the thing and nearly dying himself in the process, he figures that he needs to do some research on different types of monsters and how to beat take them down before he starts going about.
He also starts carrying potions with him that he acquires from mages and witches across Middle Earth, just to make it easier to hunt and to heal himself after the fact.
But it is not everyone who appreciates his help unfortunately, as many turn him down just by his strange and uncanny appearance, and by his grim attitude that often scare people off.
It does not help that he introduces himself as Geralt of Rivia instead of Geralt Greenleaf of Gondor, just so people wouldn’t know who he was and treat him differently, but it does result in people having no idea he’s the son of a king and a crown prince so they treat him like shit if they want to.
It does not get better by the events in Blaviken, that Geralt would rather not speak off, especially to his parents.
It is first when he meets a young cheery bard that reminds him of an annoying bird that people start to respect him more, after the bard creates a ballad about him.
(Toss a coin would obviously sound a little different since in this AU the term ‘Witcher’ doesn’t exist and I doubt he would “Thrust every elf far back on the shelf” if he himself is part elf by adoption, but it is till toss a coin)
And both Aragorn and Legolas are just delighted at hearing the song because they are just so happy for their son, if not a little confused on why he is called Geralt of Rivia, but still yay!
(The bardlings love singing it together when they are around each other, as they love their nephew and is also all music loving people)
There’s also the mage that he encounters from time to time (And with encounter I mean they fuck, because well, Geralt is related to both Legolas and Tilda after all), whom the Bard, Jaskier, hates.
And then he gets an invitation to the wedding of Arwen and Éowyn while around both Jaskier and the mage, Yennefer, and they both are just as confused because “Wait you have a family?”
And the minute they find out about Geralt’s large, loud and quite famous and royal family, they are both pestering him about following to the wedding because they want to meet the people who raised Geralt, and he gives in after a lot of nagging and begging.
So when Geralt shows up in Rivendell with a brightly dressed bard and a gothic mage, well let’s just say it’s interesting.
Legolas is delighted that his little Gerry has made some friends while also checking on him that he is alright and Geralt hates in while Yen and Jaskier are having a blast.
Jaskier is really smug about the fact that Geralt is actually related to a bard in a way, with his Ada’s step siblings mother being one, and the three take after her with their own musical talent.
Jaskier and Sigrid gush a lot about different songs together.
And Tilda is just shamelessly flirting with the sexy gothic mage while Geralt regrets every single decision he’s ever made.
And of course Brand is there being an asshole while flirting with Jaskier, and again, Geralt regrets everything.
A betting pool is set up on who they think Geralt will end up with, Jaskier or Yennefer.
Geralt just craves death.
***
I tried to incorporate as much of the Witcher lore as I could, but I also had to take into account how Middle Earth works, which is very hard.
I mean, one is Polish and the other from New Zealand.
I don’t know what Geralt is supposed to be exactly, maybe some sort of Fae or Elf half breed, or maybe he is a mutant like the actual Witcher’s.
Anyways, this was fun, and I really wanna make more of this AU, because I love it. It’s not canon in my Universe though, sadly, because it just wouldn’t work.
#lotr#the hobbit#lotr au#the hobbit au#lord of the rings#lord of the rings au#The Witcher#the witcher au#legolas greenleaf#aragorn son of arathorn#geralt of rivia#tilda daughter of bard#bain son of bard#sigrid daughter of bard#Elladan#elrohir#arwen evenstar#Éowyn#Jaskier#yennefer of vengerberg#gandalf#brand of dale#Aralas#geraskier#yenralt
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Jaskier is technically a noble, right? So he probably had to go through all the fancy noble tutoring and such, not just for math and literacy and normal school stuff but for etiquette and politics and all the noble-specific training that anyone who might end up ruling at least some portion of land would need.
After Cintra falls, Ciri is the last remaining heir to the throne (unless you start looking into distant cousins and other branches that may or may not exist or have any claim to the throne); either way, assuming they manage to drive nilfgard out someday, she’ll be the next ruler. Do you see where I’m going with this?
At some point, probably a few months after they found eachother, Ciri is going to make some comment about how having her former life destroyed sucks but at least she’s escaped her boring old lineage tutor or something, and Geralt is going to realize that not only is he in charge of raising and protecting a tiny human child, he’s in charge of a royal tiny human child who will one day be the Queen of an entire country. Then he’s going to panic because she definitely needs to be learning things for that but they don’t teach Witchers how to be nobles, he has no idea what she needs to learn, this isn’t like sword fighting, he can’t teach her himself! And so his first thought will probably be Yennefer, because she was a court mage and he had probably already asked her to help teach Ciri magic/control. When he asks, though, she says she can’t help him because while sure, they received some court training at Aretuza, it was all manipulation and making people like you enough to avoid getting killed or fired for accidentally offending some random important noble (its a different story if you did so on purpose, of course). Anyway, she had never learned any of the things nobles had to know, and especially not the kinds of things they taught noble children. She was 0% qualified to be a royal tutor for anything beyond magic, and probably reading/languages (particularly Elder) and maybe math, because some spells definitely involve math to get the correct affect.
So Geralt is still panicking, and now he’s thinking he’s going to somehow have to find some noble that he can trust to know where Ciri is, and worse, what kind of noble would be willing to travel around the continent with a Witcher? So he is thinking that he’s probably going to have to leave Ciri with this random noble for months at a time, because she needs an education and to be prepared to rule but how the fuck is he going to find some noble who’s both willing to look after a Witcher’s kid (who might be the crown princess of a powerful kingdom but is also being hunted by a powerful invading army with a dark mage, any political advantage from fostering her would be negated by the huge target doing so would paint on your back) and trustworthy enough that Geralt could let her out of his sight with them? Now, there are two ways this could go.
1) yennefer Knows Things and decided to take pity on Geralt after he’s so clearly (well, clear to people that know him well(or can read minds)) freaking out over the issue, and casually mentions “isn’t that bard of yours a Viscount or something? Maybe he can help.” Skip Geralt’s what kind of viscount is named Jaskier?? confusion (yen: you didn’t know that’s not his real name?), he immediately goes to track Jaskier down, because even if they haven’t seen eachother since the dragon mountain, and Jaskier might never want to see him again no matter how much he apologizes, he knows Jaskier would never turn on Ciri. He finds him rather quickly because a lot of people are gossiping about the “Toss a Coin” bard who has recently debuted a fantastic new tragic love ballad (Geralt is definitely having Feelings the first time he hears it. Maybe it’s just coincidence that the story of Her Sweet Kiss sounds so familiar? It has to be, right? Right??? Because if not... well. There’s a third person in that song, and Geralt doesn’t think he could possibly have been that blind- but then again, he’d never known his friend was a noble or his name wasn’t actually Jaskier, had he?). Cue lots of reunitement feels and apologies and hugs (and Ciri shipping them from the background). Geralt is so relieved that Jaskier is safe and forgave him that he forgets why he had been looking for him so urgently until Jaskier asks something about where he was going/why he was in town or something like that. Geralt says something about how he’s currently raising a Princess, and he can teach her fighting and survival but he didn’t even know she was supposed to be studying things like a century’s worth of noble family trees and how to tell someone to fuck off with silverware until she mentioned how much more exciting monster-identification-lessons were, and apparently Jaskier is actually a noble? Named Julian??? And Jaskier, being fluent in Geralt, correctly interprets this as “what. Geralt. You want me to be Cirilla’s tutor? The future queen of Cintra? I’m not as young as I look, it’s been decades since I had to think about any of that bullshit, oh, fu-sorry, sorry, small ears, gods. I may be a professor at Oxford for a winter every now and then, but I am NOT a royal tutor! Besides the fact that royals learn things lower nobles don’t, I’m from Rhedania, not Cintra, we use an entirely different fashion language, and they have a weird thing about-” “Jaskier. Where the fuck am I going to find a trustworthy Cintran noble, let alone one qualified to teach her?” “Language! and they- oh. Good point. I suppose I know more about it than you do, at the least. Ugh. If I’m going to have to try to remember all this sh-stuff, I definitely am going to need some books. Cintra’s library would be best, country specific info and all, but there’s no way we’re going to get any of that, if it hasn’t burned already. Maybe Oxenfurt? If we-” “make a list. Yen has... resources.” “Well that’s terrifyingly ominous. And I hope you’re planning on letting me teach her music too, if we’re going to have to put up with all this stuffy etiquette!”
2) Yennefer doesn’t say anything, either because she figures Geralt must already know and have chosen not to go to Jaskier for some reason or because she never bothered to pay enough attention to Jaskier to find out herself. Geralt leaves to continue on his way to Kaer Morhen or just Away, because they’re still too close to Nilfgard’s front line for his comfort, and assumes that he’s just going to have to wait for the war to end to find a trustworthy noble who can teach her. On the way, they hear that Jaskier is just a couple of towns out of their way and decide to go find him because Geralt has been wanting to apologize for being a dick for months but he’d been too focused on Ciri’s safety to track him down (or maybe they just walk into a tavern and he’s there, preforming, and it’s awkward and angsty and leaves Ciri wishing she could lend them a brain cell or two because clearly they have none). Geralt apologizes, angst is had, feelings are aired. In the end, Jaskier decides to follow them because he’s missed Geralt and also he’s kind of famous for being the White Wolf’s Bard, and if Nilfgard is looking for Geralt a squishy (mostly?)human bard is a much easier target than a Witcher, and so he should also probably be heading away from the war and who is he to deny the extra protection of traveling together? Anyway, after they’ve been reunited for a few days or weeks, Jaskier gets fed up because he knows Geralt has been angsting over something, and at first he thought it was related to the whole reunion drama but it’s been long enough and it clearly has not gotten better. So he waits until Ciri is asleep and ambushes Geralt with concerned questions because sometimes the element of surprise was the only way to get him to spill things regarding feelings. Geralt knows he won’t give up, so he tells him about how he’s worried because he can do his best to protect Ciri physically, but he never thought himself qualified to raise a child, let alone a princess who will inherit a kingdom, and he knows there are a lot of things she should be learning to be ready for her future responsibilities but he had never had anything even resembling a noble education, and Yennefer may have been a court mage but she didn’t either, and unless Jaskier had some secret noble lover who would be willing to travel with them and live in a castle full of Witchers for however long the war lasted, he wasn’t going to be able to give her the education she needed until at least after the war, and she’d probably be expected to take the throne at that point so clearly that would be an issue, because while on the job training is great the fate of the kingdom would be in the balance, and- (okay, a lot of that was probably Jaskier reading between the lines. Geralt would never have spoken that much, but he was definitely thinking all of it, and Jaskier had gotten quite good at reading his Witcher over the years, thank you very much). “Geralt. You do know I’m technically a Viscount, right?” *confused silence* “Sure, I might not know every detail about Cintra’s trade history or some of the more royal-specific stuff, and it’s been a while since I had my own lessons, but if I had to sit through 16 years of unbearable Nobility Education, I may as well do something useful with it. I might not be at all qualified under normal circumstances, but I’m definitely better than nothing, right? And I can easily make learning it much more interesting than some stuffy old tutor or governess. Do you know how much easier it is to memorize dates and names when set to music?” “What the fuck.” “Oh, and literature! Rhetoric! Grammar! Not necessarily vital to ruling, you have scribes for a reason, but really words are one of the few things I actually am officially qualified to teach. No reason I shouldn’t go the whole way if I’m already doing this, and a good education is an important tool for anyone.”
#the witcher#im sorry this is so long#if only i had this much motivation for my essays#geraskier#jaskieralt?#ciri#cirilla fiona elen riannon#i love her#honestly i love all of them
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Color me in love - pt3
part 1, part 2, part 4, part 5, part 6
Thank you everyone so much for reading, commenting, rebloging, and liking. I appreciate everything people have to say. Btw would you guys prefer if this went more angsty or more happy from here, cuz I can do either, or maybe a mixture? (@marvelmisha, @witchlingbard, @yeet-me-out-tonight, @blackcat-midnight-thatsme)
When Geralt had decided to not tell Jaskier about his feels in order to save the bard from the awkwardness of turning him down, he hadn’t realized it would be this hard. He thought if he ignored the little tendrils of warmth that bubbled up in his gut whenever Jaskier was joking around with him or smiling in that content way he did after a good performance, then he would eventually forget about how he felt, which would be better for both of them in the long run. But that was apparently not how emotions worked because Geralt continued to have a constant urge to be in Jaskier’s company, and, while he hated admitting it, he still possessed the slightest amount of hope that maybe the bard returned his feelings.
And, at this point, Geralt didn’t know what to do. He had never felt this way before, hadn’t even known he could feel this way. Something about Jaskier was just right. He seemed to fill a hole in Geralt’s life that Geralt hadn’t even realized was empty. Back in the days when Geralt had just been seeing black and white, he would say that he didn’t need anyone, and he sure as hell didn’t want anyone needing him, but now, he finds that he can’t imagine life without having Jaskier filling the space next to him. And it scares him, because he had let himself get attached, and in that moment, everything seemed fine, but he knew it couldn’t stay like this forever. It makes him sick to think about the day when the colors will fade completely and Jaskier will be gone. And though he wants to ignore thoughts of the inevitable future, he can’t just pretend that the bard’s not human, and humans are weak.
In fact, they had had a close call already. Geralt can clearly recall the panic he felt that day, as Jaskier choked on his own blood, and the colors began to leave him and the relief that came over him after Jaskier was treated and the colors came back twice as strong, as though to signify to him that the bard was the one and he was just stupid for not recognizing it sooner. Which was why, after months of contemplating, Geralt had come up with a plan, because as much as he wanted Jaskier by his side, it would be safer if he wasn’t.
They had just recently met up again. Geralt had been delivering a kikimore to some alderman when he had decided to stop for an ale, and of course, as his luck would have it, Jaskier was at that exact town, in that exact tavern, and after he was done putting on his show, had insisted on tagging along with Geralt to his next job. As they were setting up camp later that night, Geralt figured that now would be as good a time as any to put his plan in motion.
“I don’t think you should travel with me anymore.”
Jaskier, who had been setting up their bed rolls, froze in his crouched stance, before slowly turning to fix Geralt with an inquiring stare, “Why do you say that?”
“It’s not safe.”
At that Jaskier laughed, “Geralt, please, I’m with you, a witcher. How much safer could I be?”
“My lifestyle is dangerous.”
“It’s not all that—”
“What happens when there’s one too many monsters for me to handle and you’re standing around like an easy target?”
“That’s not—”
“Tell me what happens,” Geralt growled. Jaskier met Geralt’s glare with a troubled look and a small frown before he promptly made his way over to him, plopping down next to him on the log Geralt had dragged over earlier for seating.
“Where is this coming from? Because I’m fairly certain you’ve never been concerned about this before, at least you’ve never said anything about it. And lately, you’ve been, well…distracted. Like you are somewhere else half the time, and it worries me. You know you can talk to me.” His spoke in a tone so gentle that it took all of Geralt’s strength to not look at the bard because if he did, he knew he might not be able to say what he had to.
“I know,” Geralt sighed out, even though talking to Jaskier, about what was actually going on, was exactly what he was trying to fucking avoid. On top of that, he had been hoping that the bard hadn’t noticed his absentmindedness, the times when he was busy thinking about soulmates and Jaskier and what the hell he was supposed to do about all of it, because the last thing he wanted to do was to give Jaskier reasons to worry.
“Geralt, you’re doing the whole brooding thing. Just tell me what’s going on.”
“Hm.” Fuck, why was it so hard to just talk? The waves of care and concern wafting off of Jaskier was making Geralt’s head spin. He grasped for words but found that he didn’t have any, and struggled to invent some sentence, just something, anything, that would make Jaskier understand he was doing this for his own good.
Suddenly, Geralt’s face was grabbed between two hands and he was being forced to look at Jaskier instead of the ground. Blinking down in surprise at the bard, he took in how his eyebrows were drawn together and how he was worrying his lip between his teeth and how he took a deep breath, then unexpectedly met Geralt’s stunned gaze with one of ferocity.
“You listen to me. I’m not going to let you push me away without a damn good reason. I know you, Geralt of Rivia, and while I might not know what is going through your head right now, I do know that you need a friend, and that’s me. So, don’t expect me to just walk away and leave you here to mope. Understood?”
“Jaskier, I—”
“Nope, nuh uh, not another word out of your mouth until you are ready to explain what’s been going on with you.”
Geralt stayed glued to his seat on the log long after Jaskier had patted his cheeks and went to go pluck out some songs. He told himself that he was thoroughly annoyed by how Jaskier had shut him down and basically ruined his whole plan, but the pleasant stunned feeling replacing any thoughts in his head and the way his stomach was fluttering and how the colors around Jaskier seemed to have a soft, warm glow said otherwise.
#geralt x jaskier#geraskier#geralt of rivia#jaskier#the witcher#color me in love#soulmate au#my writing#this was so hard to write becuz the whole time i was just thinking of jaskier: how do you know whats good for me geralt: tHats mY oPinION
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For the made up fic title!
‘When The Fog Clears...’
Hope you’re well! - @iliveiloveiwrite
Oooh! Okay, so I get really big Witcher vibes for this one.
I imagine it would be a Geralt story (or a Geralt x Reader) with a low tone of dread throughout the beginning of the fic. Geralt has just killed a monster and he goes back to get his money and pick up Jaskier (and (Y/n), if it’s a Reader fic) and yet neither are there. He, ofc, gets into protective witcher mode™ and goes to find them. He’s worried that something terrible has happened, but he ends up just finding them at a pub or something, just generally being obnoxious. He gets all angry over it, and Jaskier (and Reader) get to tease him about being so protective.
Alternatively, you could make it angsty throughout and have something actually terrible happen to Jaskier and Reader, and Geralt then has to figure out how to save them, which is an equally as good concept.
#ask games#asks#mutuals#...i think? idk#but yeah i just want some dread at the beginning and then some fluff at the end
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Hey, what's ur deaf Jasker au? & what sign language does he use? How does Geralt, Yen, Ciri . . . others react. Man I am bad at au but i swear is was just waiting for this one. So plz. What is your deaf Jasker au?
Hey! Im glad you asked! I rebloged my own post and wrote a little story. I tagged it as DeafJaskier so you can hopefully find the whole thing on my blog if tumblr isn't stinky.
But if you can't I'm gonna give you a shorter rerun of it. It's a simple idea. What if Jaskier started loosing his hearing as a teenager but still wanted to sing and play? So i remembered that Beethoven was composing some of his greatest works while deaf and i couldn't resist making the comparison lol.
There was another reason that i made a DeafJaskier au and it was my way of making Jaskier a bit angsty lmao. He is loud and never shuts up so it seems to me that he hates silence. That is something that worked to my advantage in this au. That gives a good reason as to why he hates silence so much, because it reminds him of his deafness and the inevitability of it.
Basically Julian leaves his rich family to pursue his passion for music and goes to study in oxenfurt, around this time he starts to go deaf but instead of simply despairing and giving up his passion he pursues it harder and with more conviction. He becomes a genius musician in spite of his disability but is still very insecure about it.
Telling people around he's deaf isn't the smartest thing to do since he already gets assaulted for fucking everyones sister or brother he would be a much easier target if they knew about his deafness.
He meets Gerald in Posada when his hearing is still relatively ok, but of course he doesn't tell him cause Gerald is already hostile about keeping him with him and Jaskier is very insecure about it.
They meet Yennefer and Jaskier is of course jealous of her and Gerald but he thinks he doesn't deserve him so he stays away and longs.
When they separate Jaskier is heartbroken and only sings sad songs and travels all alone. Yennefer stumbles upon him in a tavern and forces him to stay and talk. She is the first person who he tells about his deafness which by now is very advanced.
She tells him about her own struggle with being a hunchback and being "ugly" and they bond.
Gerald finds him in a tavern once he has found Ciri and apologizes to him but Jaskier is still hurt and so he leaves the tavern and heads towards the woods, of course not hearing Gerald scream after him that there's a monster on the loose. The monster attacks him and he wakes up to a worried Gerald. He finally tells the witcher the truth and they finally get together.
Now, Jaskier doesn't use sign language in the beginning of the story since his disability is a secret and he never had anyone close who could teach him. Instead he got incredibly good at reading lips and face expressions to understand people. When Gerald finds out about it, he wants them both to learn some sign language to make Jaskiers life easier, but by this point Jaskier is used to the lip reading so it doesn't bother him.
Thank you for asking 💖💖
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Savior (Jaskier x Reader, angst ending)
Request: Hi! I’m the anon who requested the Jaskier fic and I just wanna say it was sooo good! And you got it up so fast! Thank you so much! I would love it if you made an angsty ending :) I have more requests for later too if you would be okay (all Jaskier fics oops) anyways thanks for writing my request and I’d love an angst ending :) -Grace (that’s my name☺️)
Pairing: Jaskier x Reader
Warnings: Violence and death
Authors Note: :DDD I’m so glad you enjoyed it!! I’m so down for more Jaskier, i love my bard boy. Can’t wait to write more of your requests! Thank you Grace!
Everything is the same except for the ending
LINK TO FLUFF ENDING HERE
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“No, I’m upset Jaskier! You left for a monster hunt on our anniversary, how could I not be upset?!” You exclaimed as you walked down the stairs of your shared home, Jaskier close behind.
He was an amazing boyfriend, but dear god could he be clueless on what is okay.
It was your anniversary and you both had planned to go to the pub to drink and have fun, but out of the blue Jaskier had heard that Geralt was nearby on a hunt and had completely forgotten about your plans.
He had returned the second he had remembered, but that was now, and the harm had been done.
“I’m sorry Y/N, I truly am! You know how forgetful I am and how overindulged I get in this stuff! I know this doesn’t excuse my actions but I don’t know how to fix it.” He tried explaining his side, but you were having none of it, and just needed to get away.
“Just leave me alone,” You turned and pointed at him. “Don’t follow me.” You growled and stormed out the door, heading down the street to the forest surrounding the town. You needed to get away and clear your head, maybe grab some herbs for teas and healing ointments for your healing business. You didn’t know what exactly you were doing, just anything to get your mind off things for a while.
You walked for a while, zoning out and not realizing how far you had gone until it was too late. The sun was setting, and it would be safer staying put rather than trying to make it back through the dense forest. Going to the main road would also not be safe as bandits lurk during the night, waiting for unsuspecting victims.
Your cloak was big enough to wrap completely around yourself, so you laid down to get some sleep.
You awoke to birds chirping and the sun shining in your eyes. You took your time getting up, you had nowhere to be and you were still too mad to return to Jaskier.
‘Letting my anger dissipate now is better than risking taking it out on Jaskier.’ You thought, and headed down to the nearest creek to get a drink of water and maybe find some berries for breakfast.
BACK IN TOWN
“I can’t find her anywhere Geralt, I’m worried!” Jaskier nervously sat across from his friend at the pub.
“She’ll come back.” Geralt mumbled into his cup.
“But what if she’s in danger and I’m here sitting on my ass listening to you! That’s what got me in trouble in the first place!”
“No, you came after me, and I was listening to you.” Geralt corrected Jaskier’s blame.
“Regardless, what if she’s-” Jaskier was cut off by a shaken up merchant.
“Witcher! There’s more monsters out there! I was just attacked!” Geralt looked at the man and furrowed his eyebrows.
“Hmm,” He grunted and stood up, quickly chugging the remaining ale. “Where?”
“Up the mountain! They’re hiding out in a cave! Left of the path just past Bald Man’s Rock! They stole my goods! I’ll pay you 150 gold if you can recover my items!” The disheveled merchant promised The Witcher.
Jaskier’s eyes were wide, he could only think of the horrible things that the monsters would do to Y/N if they got their claws on her. Geralt turned his head towards Jaskier and gave him a nod, reassuring him that Y/N would be okay.
IN THE FOREST
You had been wandering for a while, not wanting to return home yet. The rustling of leaves behind didn’t worry you at first, you assumed it was a deer that you had scared. But when it didn’t stop and got closer, that’s when you turned.
WACK
You hit the ground, groaning in pain, the unknown assailant had knocked you down and proceeded to choke you out. You tried to fight back but they were too strong, their initial blows weakening you.
ON THE PATH
“Oh god, what if she’s dead because of this, because of me!” Jaskier rambled on. Geralt sighed and stopped Roach.
“If you don’t shut up I will knock you out and tie you to the back of Roach for the remaining part of this trip.” Geralt warned, he understood his friend’s worry, but continuing to talk about it wouldn’t get them anywhere.
They continued down the path, following the merchant’s instruction.
“Bald Man’s Rock!” Jaskier exclaimed, rushing ahead of Geralt and Roach.
“Wait.” Geralt called out, getting off his horse and unsheathing his sword, stalking towards the direction of the monster’s hideout.
IN THE CAVE
“Rob ‘er of her items, then do whatever, I don’t really care.” A voice commanded, heavy footsteps approaching you. You blinked open your eyes to see a man walking towards you, malice in his eyes. You writhed, but the ropes tied around your arms and legs kept you from moving. He roughly grabbed you and patted you down, trying to find any hidden pouches on you.
“Fuckin’ useless whore, doesn’t even have coin on ‘er.” He punched you across his face. Part of you was glad that you didn’t carry any coin, not wanting this bandits to take any of your hard earned money, but the other part of you wish you had so maybe they would let you go. “Go get Jager, he can dispose of ‘er.” Your eyes widen, there was no good outcome.
“What do you want Marin? ” A voice slurred, though he was drunk, there was a malice to his voice.
“Dispose of this wench, she has nothing, no coin or anything. Slash ‘er up so the locals keep believing there’s monsters in ‘ere.” The original man kicked you in the stomach, knocking you on your side.
“Yessir.” The man you presumed to be Jager stumbled over with a knife, you started to scream.
“Shut up!” He knelt on the ground and punched you in the face. You whimpered, tears running down your face.
‘Don’t let this be the end, not without a goodbye to Jaskier’
The man slashed across your legs, a wound that looked consistent with a werewolf to a normal villager. He continued this pattern across your collarbone to the middle of your sternum. The wounds weren’t deep, but they weren’t shallow. He lifted the bottom of your dress and repeated this again on your upper thigh.
“Think that good enough?” Jager asked his partners in crime.
“You’re really just gonna leave ‘ere there to bleed out, we’re thieves, not monsters.” They laughed at that, but you were terrified.
You begged them not to, but you had no bargaining chips here.
‘I’m so sorry Jaskier.’ You thought, hot tears running down your cheek. ‘This is the end.’
He grabbed you by the hair, forcing your head up so your neck was exposed.
You could feel the skin splitting on your neck, the warm blood spilling out.
“Witcher!” You heard, the blade only slicing half of your neck when you were dropped, Jager joining his comrades in fighting the mutant.
“Y/N!” Jaskier rushed to your side, eyes filled with tears. “No, no, no, no,” He took off his jacket, placing it onto your wound to try to halt the bleeding. He held it in place with one hand, using the other to pull off the rope the bandits had tied around your hands.
You were drowsy, the thought of sleep was so enchanting to you at that moment. You let your head drop, and your eyes started to close.
“Look at me, look at me, you’re going to be okay, you’re going to be okay.” He rocked you back and forth, tears falling off his face and onto your skin. The sounds of fighting stopped, Geralt finishing off the last of the bandits.
Geralt knew it was too late. He saw it before with Renfri. All he could do is comfort his friend after, so he made no attempt to interrupt your final moments together.
Your shaky arm reached up to cup his face, using up the last of your energy.
“I’m sorry Jaskier-”
“Don’t say that, no, don’t say that.” He sobbed, grasping your hand.
“I love you.” Your eyes closed, your final breath exiting your lungs.
The gut wrenching sound of a heartbroken bard was the last thing you heard, before everything turned black.
#jaskier#jaskier the bard#jaskier the witcher#jaskier x reader#the witcher#the witcher fanfiction#jaskier fanfiction#jaskier fanfic
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