#bikm bingo

[pherryt]

A Ferret in Bardic Clothing

@save-a-witcher-bingo

Fandom: Witcher Rating: T (for Swearing) Words: 2535 Ship: Lambert/Jaskier Bingo Squares Filled:

Save A Witcher Bingo: N1 - Dreams

BiKM Bingo: B2 - Ferret Picture

Summary:

Lambert returns to camp to find a ferret in Jaskier's place, and he's pretty sure the ferret is the bard. Did Pretty Boy know Jaskier could do this?

[aroomie]

Tank

Eskel and Lambert walked ahead of Jaskier, while the bard was useful in some ways what with his dagger and some charismatic manipulation of others, he wasn’t really going to be super useful in a cave full of ghouls. Regardless, the bard begged until the two relented and let the hyper active man come along with them.

Eskel rolled his two-handed great sword in his palms, anxious for something to jump out at them in an ambush, Lambert hopping on his toes every once in a while as he walked, spinning his sword in his palm. Both of them trying desperately to ignore the constant strumming of Jaskier and his gods damn lute!

“Can you stop? For, like, five minutes?” Lambert finally snapped, looking back at Jaskier.

“Hey, every adventure needs music!” Jaskier defended, holding up his hands in defence.

“Not when you need stealth!” Lambert growled and Jaskier rolled his eyes.

“Will you girls shut up?” Eskel asked politely, gingerly placing his blade on his shoulder while his now free hand went to his hip.

“He started it!” Lambert and Jaskier said at the same time, pointing at each other, Eskel just rolled his eyes and smirked with a shake of his head.

“C’mon you two, sooner we get this done, sooner we can have food,” Eskel said, swinging his balde around and walked a couple feet before the other two followed.

“You know, I have a question,” Jaskier said after a minute.

“And what would that be? Why can’t you shut up for two seconds?” Lambert shot over his shoulder, grinning.

“No, ass hole, I mean, we are on this quest to save a prince! It’s heroic, balad worthy! Yet we have no clue what he looks like!” Jaskier exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. Lambert and Eskel both looked at one another, brows lifted.

“That’s… an excellent question,” Eskel looked over to Jaskier, then to Lambert again, head tilting.

“Geralt. He looks like Geralt,” Lambert said with a grin. Jaskier blinked, looking between the two of them before stepping up to Eskel and motioned at the man's sword.

“Can I borrow that?” Jaskier asked, holding out his hands. There was a pause, Eskel looking towards Lambert and the younger man just shrugs.

“Uh, sure Jask,” Eskel said as he passed his sword to Jaskier, blinking in surprise when he saw that Jaskier was able to take the blade no problem, his strength shocking.

“Awesome, thank you,” Jaskier smiled and passed his lute to Eskel then skipped his way down the corridor, there was another pause. Jaskier looked over his shoulder at Eskel and Lambert, grinning wide as a triumphant look appeared on his face before he went charging like some sort of berserker.

~~

The brothers all blinked as they watched Jaskier swinging his invisible sword, making swishing and gargling dying noises. They had all arranged to finally do a game night, Lambert throwing out that they should continue their Dungeons and Dragons game.

“I thought he was supposed to be a bard!?” Eskel looked towards Geralt, the white-haired man blinking in surprise as he watched Jaskier enthusiastically killing things to “save” Geralt.

“He apparently has luck out the ass to be able to roll that fucking high twice in a row,” Lambert said, looking to Eskel then at Geralt, grinning as he saw the way that his brother was looking at Jaskier, the other man still enthusiastically “killing” everything.

“Apparently our bard has secret tank skills?” Eskel questioned looking to Lambert then at Geralt again and grinned as he now realized the look that Lambert had caught.

“How badly do you want to bend him over the table?” Lambert asked, making Geralt blink and looked to his brother.

“So much that you two should fuck off, now,” Geralt suddenly got to his feet and rounded the table, capturing Jaskier’s flying wrists and pinning the man to his chair.

“Oh my god!” Eskel laughed, covering his eyes as he quickly left the room.

“My eyes! My eyes!” Lambert dramatically fell out of his chair, scampering his way out of the room just in time to escape as Jaskier moaned loudly as Geralt picked his boyfriend up and pinned him to the nearest wall.

[major-trouble]

Scaredy Cat (Read on AO3)

Scary: 1 : causing fright : alarming; a scary story 2 : easily scared : timid 3 : feeling alarm or fright : frightened 

They’d been trapped inside the old, decaying house for three days. The only reason they knew it’d been three days was that light still bled through the windows with the rising of the sun and disappeared with the settling of night. The walls also bled from time to time. It was a thick, red, viscous liquid that seeped from the pores of the wood and stained the ripped paper and moldering rugs.

Geralt knew it wasn’t blood. It didn’t smell like it, and certainly didn’t taste like it. More like sap or syrup that rose to the surface and leaked out. He didn’t know what compelled him to bring the liquid to his lips, but tasting it evoked memories of hot summer days and cool breezes that played through his hair as he lay in the grass.

They were not his memories.

Somewhere in this house was Jaskier. He was trapped here as well. Got trapped here first, in fact, and was the reason that Geralt burst through the front door, silver sword at the ready, only to see Jaskier bound by dark tendrils of solid smoke, floating in the air, eyes wide in panicked fear.

“Geralt! Please - run!” the bard had managed to gasp out before he was dragged off, through a doorway and up a flight of stairs, away from Geralt. Away from safety.

The Witcher had felt the cold, solid core of himself get colder as fear seeped in. He was scared. The doorway behind him had sealed up before he’d turned around and now, no matter where he looked, how many windows he broke or stairs he climbed, he couldn’t leave this house.

And Jaskier was nowhere to be found.

Getting as close to the back of the house as he could, he’d set himself up in what passed for a kitchen. He dared not fall asleep, and the one time he’d tried to meditate, voices started whispering to each other right at the edge of his hearing. He’d leapt up at that, searching through the house quickly, but found nothing. When he’d returned to the kitchen, the contents of his pack were strewn across the dirty floors, bottles smashed to bits, contents soaking into the wood.

There was something malevolent at work in here, but he had no idea what it was. It was like nothing that he’d come across before. The fact that it could make another human disappear so completely made him uneasy.

The sun was setting on the fourth day and he was no closer to figuring out the mystery of the house. He’d cleaned up what little remained of his pack, but the meager rations would only last another day at best. He sighed.

As the last rays of light diminished, shadows thickening and blending together, Geralt made his way down the wooden steps into the cold cellar. The smell of fresh earth was somewhat refreshing after the cloying rot from above. He took a moment to inhale deeply, closing his eyes and concentrating.

The tinkling sound of bells made him snap his eyes open. He cocked his head, trying to locate the direction of the sound and finally decided that it was coming from somewhere above him. Quietly, he sidled back up the stairs, through the kitchen, past where the front door had been, and up the creaking wooden staircase to the second floor. Along with the sound of bells he could hear a child’s voice, humming absently.

There was a light at the end of the hallway, slipping out from under the edge of the door. He strained his hearing, drawing deep breaths to try to figure out what he was up against. The humming became louder as he moved closer to the door, eventually forming words.

“Who will I give my baby?

 If I give it to the old woman, she will keep it for a day.

 If I give it to the black ox, he will keep it for a year.

 If I give it to the white wolf, will he keep it forever?

 Who will take my baby?”

The shiver that stole down Geralt’s spine made his teeth clench.

Ever so carefully, he edged the door open. The smell of decay and rot became nearly overpowering as he stepped into the room. Despite having searched every nook and cranny in the derelict house, he’d never seen this room before. It hadn’t existed before this moment.

A figure was seated cross-legged in the middle of the rotting floor, overly large limbs covered in fire-blackened skin. A shroud hung in torn strips from its body, smeared with dust and dirt, and wrapped firmly around its head where its face would be. The child-like voice continued to sing the lilting lullaby as Geralt moved forward and the air nearly caught in his throat as he saw the figure cradled in those grotesque arms.

Jaskier was so pale as to be translucent. His hair looked unnaturally thick and dark against such pale skin, and his eyes were closed, sunken in like he’d taken ill.

Geralt must have made some sound as the figure snapped its attention up to him, orange eyes reflecting the wane light of the moon streaming through the window behind it.

“Witcher,” it sing-songed at him, drawing out the syllables. “Witcher, I have your pet. I will make a bargain - a trade. One life for another.”

Geralt kept his expression neutral as he looked down at the creature before him. Every fibre of his being was screaming at him not to take it, to cut this thing down and wrest Jaskier from its grasp. But something stopped him. Maybe it was the cat-slit pupils that bored into his own. Maybe the slight tremble in the figure’s limbs.

Whatever it was, he found himself nodding instead. “Give me the bard, and let us leave this place in peace, and I will see to it no one comes here again.”

Those keen eyes flashed at him before it nodded. “I accept, Witcher. Take your bard. Never return.” It lifted up Jaskier’s prone form, offering it to him.

Just as Geralt reached down to take Jaskier, there was a rush of air through the room and darkness engulfed him. It battered against his senses, whipping his hair around his face. He lunged forward, gathering Jaskier to his chest and holding on tightly, staggering backwards out of the room. Blinded, he tried to turn to where he thought the stairs were, but tripped instead, falling backwards.

Instead of hurtling over the bannister and into the floorboards below, Geralt’s back impacted with soft grass. Just as suddenly as the maelstrom started, it was gone and he opened his eyes, sitting up and looking around.

It was past midday and he was back in the clearing where he’d left Roach, about an hour’s walk from the house. Jaskier was still clutched desperately to his chest, still waxen-pale, but breathing steadily, deeply, like he was asleep.

Wrapping his arms more firmly around the man, Geralt let himself hold the bard as warm sunlight seeped into his limbs and he formulated a story to keep people away from the old house on the edge of the woods.

[oh-bard]

Ballerino (derogatory)

Some art I drew for the BIKM bingo....... because Kate gave my team the prompt "toe" and this was the only thing I could think of that didn't make me want to cry, lol. Anyways Geralt and Jaskier are ballerinos and they're in love. Don't show the server yet its a surprise

[bi-aragorn]

Witcher Masterlists

Ta da! Many!

Jaskilion Masterlist

Geraskier Masterlist

Geskel Masterlist

Other Ship Masterlist

No Ship/ Gen Fic Masterlist

Bog Fluff Battle ‘21

BIKM Bingos ‘21

Witcher Rarepair Summer Bingo ‘21

Witcher Trans Week ‘21

Bog Team Bingo ‘21

Aro Week ‘22

Passiflora Drabble Challenge no.1

Passiflora Smut Battle ‘22

Passiflora Bingo ‘22

Cheese’s Challenges

Follower Celebrations

Exchange Fics 

(Updated: 18/12/22)

[ao3feed-geralt-jaskier]

by Vidra

Geralt has seen many odd things in his years traveling the continent fulfilling contracts but he’s pretty sure he’s never seen something quite like the creatures before him.

Words: 895, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 13 of BIKM Bingo Fills

Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: M/M

Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion

Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion

Additional Tags: Fluff, Eventual Romance, Pre-Relationship, Zoo

[funkylittlebard]

Horn, no. 10

I did BIKM's Mini Bingo again this month, great fun, I wrote ~1.5k of porn in about 2 days because time management who

they're all fairly unedited so bear with me on that aha

but without further ado, here is the first one.

First chapter of this fic on Ao3

Rating: Explicit

Tags: Yennefer's Taxidermy Unicorn, Vaginal Sex, Plot What Plot,

Yenralt having a good time below

It started with his hand running gently down her cheek. Yennefer thought, as she often did when Geralt initiated sex, that he looked a little anxious. She bit back a smile as she threaded her hand through his hair, pulling him down for a kiss. She heard his pleased sigh before their lips met, and let her hands fall from his hair to settle around his waist, holding him close to her chest. She wanted to be gentle with him this evening however exciting her plans might be.

Slowly, she helped him out of his armour and then his clothes, let him glide his fingers across her chest as she slid out of her dress, and pulled him back in for a series of delicate and tender kisses. She was beginning to feel impatient, heat pooling in her belly, but she could be soft with him a moment longer before she had her way with him.

She nudged him backwards, letting him take a few tentative steps away from her, and walked her fingers down his chest, glancing over his nipples. His back brushed against her stuffed unicorn, and Yennefer smiled as his eyes grew wide. As if he hadn’t already noticed, the cheeky bastard.

“Yen-” he began, his voice already husky, and she cut him off with a kiss. His hands went to her hips, gripping so tightly she was sure there would be bruises, yet he still let himself be pushed back hard against the unicorn. Yennefer grinned, teeth flashing in the darkness of the room, as he took the hint and eased himself up onto the creature’s back. He reached for her once he was settled, his arms wide, and his pupils wider. Yennefer eased one leg up and then the other, holding onto his shoulders for balance. She settled so that she was hovering over his cock, smiling as she felt it press against her thigh.

“I want to try this just a little differently tonight, Geralt,” she murmured, leaning close to his ear. “Lean back against the neck for me,” Geralt complied without a moment’s thought, dragging her with him. Yennefer leant down to kiss down his neck, eager to reward him for his patience and his strength, and she smiled delightedly as he let out a deep groan. “Yes, just like that,” she purred, and adjusted herself so that she was straddling him again, with her hands reaching around past his neck to reach the unicorn’s head. She shuffled closer, smiling at the muffled moan Geralt hid behind his teeth when she dragged herself over his cock. She wrapped her hands around the unicorn’s horn, and rocked her hips down again over Geralt. He moaned, his hands shooting up to grip her by the hips.

“Yen, please,” Geralt said, his thighs trembling as he held himself in place for her. Yennefer couldn’t resist rubbing herself over his cock again, smiling as he tipped his head back and groaned again. With a shiver, she pulled herself up, and reached a hand quickly between them to hold his cock into place as she sank onto it. The sound of both of their moans melded together in the air as she took more of his cock into her, and she moved her hand up to rub at her clit with swift, hard movements. She felt herself clenching around him as she did so, and he whined as Yennefer sat down on his lap. They were both breathing shakily as she reached back to wrap her hand around the horn again, running her thumbs along its ridges- for a moment her mind drifted, wondering how something like that would feel in her… but it was an idea for another time. She gripped it harder, and pulled herself up and dropped back down onto Geralt’s cock, air rushing out of her like she’d been punched as he gasped, fingers pressing tighter into her hips. She kept going, riding him as hard and as fast as she could until he was panting erratically beneath her, and she was letting out tiny little gasps herself. With one last push, she dropped down onto Geralt’s dick as he yelled, thrusting up into her, his eyes closed in bliss. She dropped a hand between her legs and rubbed frantically at her clit, and then seconds later she was groaning, her clit throbbing hard as she slumped against Geralt’s chest. Her other hand slid down the unicorn’s horn and landed against her leg, as they caught their breath, savouring the closeness for just a moment longer.

[pherryt]

A Ferret in Bardic Clothing

Witcher

Rated: T Ship: Jaskier/Lambert Words: 2535 Bingo Squares Filled:

Save a Witcher Bingo : N1 - Dreams

BiKM Bingo : B2- Picture of a pherryt Ferret

Summary: Lambert returns to camp to find a ferret in Jaskier's place, and he's pretty sure the ferret is the bard. Did Pretty Boy know Jaskier could do this?

@save-a-witcher-bingo

[pherryt]

Making Good on a Promise

Witcher, Part of the Incubus Series, a timestamp for Matter of Convenience.

Rated: M Ship: Coen/Jaskier Words: 2606 Bingo Squares Filled:

Save a Witcher Bingo Free Space

BiKM Bingo : I2- Shaking

Summary: Jaskier's making good on his promise to worship each Witcher properly, one Witcher at a time and it's Coen's turn.

@save-a-witcher-bingo

[pherryt]

Library Interlude

Witcher Part of the Incubus Series, the first of the timestamps for Matter of Convenience.

Rated: E Ship: Vesemir/Jaskier Words: 2359 Bingo Squares Filled:

Save a Witcher Bingo G2 - Deep throating

BiKM Bingo : N1 - Stars

Summary: A lazy afternoon in the library turns into something more.

@save-a-witcher-bingo

[aroomie]

Breath

“Jaskier!” The young man’s head whipped around, looking towards the elderly captain that called his name. “Get your ass to the port! They need your help on the ropes!”

“Yes, Sir!” Jaskier could barely hear the old captain over the storm raging above them, the wind causing the rain to feel more like acid rather than water as it pelted his skin. Jaskier slid across the deck, the finely sanded planks slick as oil with the coating of water, sliding to a halt as he collided with the railing and grabbed hold of the ropes before the momentum of the slip caused him to go overboard.

“Easy there, kid!” Jaskier just smirked over at his crew-mate, laughing with him as a rough wave came up and crashed onto the deck, making their feet slip about.

“C’mon! Pull!” The crew pulled the ropes, trying to get them tied down proper.

“Look out!”

“Find cover!”

Jaskier looked up, tightening his grip on the ropes in his hand, fear crawling up his spine as his eyes widened, watching as a wave three times the size of the ship loomed over them. Dread filled his gut as it started to tumble over, and Jaskier shut his eyes tightly, wrapping the rope around his arm quickly and curled into a tight ball just in time to have the wave crash down onto the ship.

~~~~

Eskel swam alongside his brothers, picking up scraps from ships that had sunk to the bottom of the ocean, a small chuckle leaving him as a sudden current from the storm raging overhead and propelling them forward.

“Feels like a big one,” Lambert says, smiling as he looks over his shoulder, flicking his crimson tail at the waters.

“Think we’ll find anything new?” Eskel asks, plucking a small piece of wood from the ocean floor to investigate it.

“Hmmm,” Geralt looked back at his brother, brow lifted.

Eskel just rolled his eyes, following behind his brothers. Geralt’s silverytail easily spotted in the darkened waters, his gaze darting towards Lambert as his crimson tail flicked in and out of sight. The larger mer sighed, looking back at the wood in his hand, as his brothers would say he had a bleeding heart for the humans, always taking the time to bury all the skeletons they find on the ocean floor.

The brothers all paused as a loud cracking noise echoed through the waters, looking up and staring wide eyed as they watched a ship, one of the larger ones they’ve seen, split in half and shatter as a large wave crashed into it.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Lambert breathed, watching as the ship gets torn apart by the constant onslaught of rough waters from the storm.

“No way anyone survived that,” Geralt said, ever the ray of sunshine, and Eskel glared over at him.

“Ever the delightful one, aren’t you brother,” Eskel deadpanned, smirking when Geralt rolled his eyes.

“Think there was anything good on there?” Lambert asks, looking towards Geralt, the silver mer shrugged his shoulders.

“Possibly, we will have to wait for it to sink more before we can investigate,” Geralt says, folding his arms over his chest. Lambert snorted.

“I got nothing to do, do you?” Lambert smirked, Geralt shrugged and looked around, setting himself down on a rock. Eskel rolled his eyes at his brother’s banter, staring up at the wreckage as it slowly wunk to the depths. His gaze narrowing as he stared at all the broken pieces, the barrels spilling out from the hold, the tables floating up to the surface, the bodies of the lifeless crew that couldn’t get a breath before the wave crashed on them.

Eskel’s eyes went wide as his gaze caught something moving, something struggling against ropes wrapped around itself. His brother’s must have seen it too if the sharp intake of breath was anything to go by.

“Well that… sucks,” Lambert grused, frowning hard.

“Drowning,” was all Geralt said as they watched the scene unfold. Eskel looked over to his brothers then back at the struggling human, his body itching to move, to get to it, and he was about to when suddenly a strong arm wrapped around his shoulder and he looked over to see Geralt staring at him with a hard frown.

“Don’t,” Geralt growled, “it’s against the rules!”

“Rules that are century years old! When the elders forced us into hiding because of some misunderstanding!” Eskel yelled, pulling his arm from Geralt’s grip.

“Eskel!” Geralt yelled after his brother, Eskel’s emerald tail barely visible in the dark waters until he got closer to the surface, the light from the storm making the emerald scales stand out like gems.

Eskel swam as quickly as he could, rushing over to the struggling human. He reached the man just in time to see a burst of bubbles leave the man’s mouth, eyes shut tightly as he gave up struggling with the ropes and instead clawed at his throat.

The human must have sensed him approach cause his eyes suddenly flew open wide, another burst of bubbles leaving his mouth as Eskel approached. Eskel held up his hands in a placating manner, knowing the human wouldn’t be able to understand him, and pointed to his claws then the rope as he made a swishing movement through the water.

He didn’t wait for the human to answer and just went ahead, grabbing hold of the rope with one hand and cutting it away with the claws on the other. Once he was free, the human began struggling to go up, to get air, but another wave crashing down against the ocean’s waters pushed him back down.

Eskel frowned and quickly grabbed hold of the human, pulling him close. He didn’t have time to try and explain what he was going to do, grabbing hold of the humans jaw, Eskel pulled his face towards his and locked his mouth over his. The human struggled, pushing against Eskel’s chest, but the moment the human’s mouth opened again in an attempt to get air, Eskel could feel the small amount of water he’d already swallowed and dipped his tongue inside to absorb the water from the humans body and expel it through the gills on his neck.

The human struggled less, eyes wide, as Eskel breathed into his mouth, giving him air. Eskel kept his eyes on the human’s, admiring how <i>blue</i> they were, a small smile appearing on his lips as he pulled back when the human tapped his shoulder and looked at Eskel properly. His fingers trailing across the sun kissed colour of his skin, dipping down to trace the start of his scales around his waist, eyes stuck on his gills.

Eskel held the human there for a solid minute before the human’s face scrunched up and bubbles escaped his mouth again, so he dove in without a second thought to refill his lungs. Once he finished, Eskel pulled the human close to his chest and looked around, smiling wide when he saw a cave in the closest reef. He held the humans face on his chest and dove, swimming down quickly but not so fast that the pressure would hurt the human, and swam into the cave.

He only needed to swim into the cave a few strokes before it turned upward and he breached the surface, the human sputtering and gasping loudly for air, sucking it in greedly. Eskel helped the human onto the edge of the small pool, looking around the air pocket and realized that there was a type of glowing sea slug that provided light in the cave.

“You… your a merman,” Eskel looked over towards the human, smiling and giving a nod. “And you understand me,” Eskel nodded again with a small roll of his eyes. “And a smart ass,” Eskel’s shoulders shook with mirth.

“I… thank you, for saving me,” the human said, watching as Eskel swam over to him, eyes wide as he looked at the emerald tail. “Uh,” he licked his lips, “my name is Jaskier,” Eskel smiled wide, now knowing the humans name. “I… I don’t suppose you can speak, can you?” Eskel tilted his head, watching Jaskier.

“Eskel,” Eskel said his name, pointing at himself.

“Es-... Eskeial?” Jaskier tried, Eskel shook his head.

“Eskel,” he said again.

“Eskel,” Jaskier echoed and Eskel beamed, nodding quickly.

“Eskel,” Jaskier pointed at the merman, “Jaskier,” then pointed at himself.

“Jas… kier,” Eskel said slowly, the voice deep and rich, making Jaskier shiver.

“You saved me,” Eskel nodded, “aren’t there, like, rules against something like that? I mean… you’re a merman,” Jaskier said, waving his hands about. Eskel just nods, still smiling at Jaskier. “And… you don’t care?” Eskel shook his head. “Huh…” Jaskier just stared at him, a small smile on his face.

“Eskel!” Jaskier went rigid at the new sounds, the loud clicking noises coming from the water making him jump back in the waters and cling to Eskel’s side while the emerald tailed merman looked towards the entrance of the cave.

Geralt and Lambert’s head appeared from the waters, both of the brothers blinking in surprise to see Eskel holding the human so close to him, protecting him, and Geralt sighed heavily.

“You have to be fucking difficult, don’t you,” Geralt growled, shaking his head.

Eskel growled at Geralt as Lambert started to laugh, holding his mate close to his chest.

[aroomie]

Cake

Jaskier had announced one evening that he had given the Witcher’s name days, each one of them staring at him like he’d lost his marbles.

“So… you’re going to just… give us days?” Eskel asked, pointing his fork at Jaskier.

“Well, yeah! You all said you didn’t remember when your actual name days are, so… why not just have a new one?” Jaskier asked so innocently that even Vesemir couldn’t say no to the bard. Jaskier then picked days of each of them, all during the winter where Jaskier could keep them all together and celebrate as a family. Little did they know that Jaskier already had a plan in motion, supplies, gifts.

Lambert’s day was first. Jaskier woke the wolf by going down on his morning wood, completely ignoring the other two as they stirred awake by the smell of lust filling the room. Jaskier licked his lips, smiling coyly as he announced that he was just Lambert’s for the day, Geralt and Eskel weren’t allowed to touch him. The look of utter glee on Lambert’s face was almost gift enough. Almost.

The Witcher’s started their day, Jaskier giving Eskel and Gerla enough affection for them to know he was still theirs as well, but he kept all his attention on Lambert. He sat with the youngest wolf at breakfast, occasionally feeding Lambert a piece of fruit or bread, Geralt and Eskel both glowering at Lambert for having all of Jaskier’s attention.

Vesemir had announced that Jaskier had the day off from his usual tasks, the bard having already begged the old wolf for time to make everything he had planned for Lambert.

Jaskier watched as they all filed out of the hall to start their training, waving at them when the younger Witcher’s looked back at him, smiling as Geralt and Lambert started to shove at each other. As soon as they were out of sight, Jaskier got to work.

He rushed to their room and grabbed the gift he made for Lambert, a rabbit pelt so soft from an evening hunt when he was on the path with Eskel. Finally having managed to get the technique down for tanning the skin and not butchering it. He spread the pelt out in a pretty display, putting a couple dry buttercups around the pelt to “make it pretty”.

Jaskier then ran to the kitchen and began preparing everything for making a cake. It took him more than one shot to get it just right, the first one he burnt, the second was under cooked, the third was…. He doesn’t even know. It took six tries before Jaskier managed to get it right.

The bard smiled at the honey cake. It was small, personal sized and just for Lambert. He could hear the wolves coming in from their training and he began to rush to make the sauce for the cake, something strawberry, Lambert’s favorite. He had less than an hour to finish for lunch, looking up from his mixing when he heard the kitchen door open and saw Vesemir walking in, the old wolf’s brow shooting to his hairline.

“You gonna clean this mess up?” Vesemir motioned to the kitchen, it was a complete disaster. Jaskier smiled sheepishly at the old wolf as Vesemir started to make lunch for the pups.

“Yes, Vesemir, I promise,” Jaskier laughed softly, finishing his topping quickly then went about cleaning his mess.

Just as he finished cleaning the last bowl, Vesemir plated up their lunches and took them out to the main hall, when the clattering noises of Lambert and the others filled the halls. Jaskier smiled as he heard Vesemir give the boys shit for rough housing, telling them to sit and eat before they broke something, pouring out the strawberry topping onto the cake and making sure a couple more whole pieces were placed on top. Jaskier smiled at his creation, completely proud of himself, and took it to the main hall.

“Buttercup! Finally here,” Lambert joked.

“We thought you’d somehow killed yourself in there,” Eskel grinned, Jaskier rolled his eyes as he remembered that the Witcher’s probably smelt everything he had fucked up before he actually managed to bake something edible.

“Oh, ha ha, wait and see if I make you one now,” Jaskier said, sassing it up as he pushed Lambert back some from the table and placed himself in the young wolf’s lap, smirking at the way Eskel’s mouth watered so much he had to swallow hard, his eyes glued to the cake.

“Shit, buttercup…” Lambert breathed, looking at the plate that Jaskier placed in front of him.

“Happy name day, baby,” Jaskier kissed Lambert’s cheek, smiling still when Vesemir echoed the sentiment. Geralt and Eskel following a moment after.

“What’s this, by the way?” Lambert asked, pointing at the pelt on the table.

“That’s your gift!” Jaskier announced proudly.

“Jask… isn’t that your first pelt?” Eskel asked, eyeing the bard with wide eyes.

“Mhmm! Lambert sometimes complains about the hardness of the pillows, so, I figured…” jaskier trailed off, waving at the pelt, his cheeks turning pink as he bowed his head. Lambert reached over and touched the pelt, sucking in a breath when his fingers touched the soft material.

“Shit, buttercup!” Lambert smiled, looking at Jaskier.

“You don’t… have to like it, I know it’s not… great,” Jaskier rubbed his cheek, looking away.

“I love it, buttercup,” Lambert leaned in, stealing Jaskier’s lips in a kiss,” thank you.”

Jaskier smiled shyly and they all settled into a comfortable silence, the wolves all eating quietly until Lambert reached for his cake and Jaskier made a tsking noise, smirking at Lambert when the Witcher gave him a questioning look.

“Let me,” Jaskier grabbed the plate, a fork, and cut into the cake to speir a piece then hold it out to Lambert’s mouth. The youngest wolf smirked, looking at the piece than at Jaskier, his eyes darting to Geralt and Eskel as he leaned forward and wrapped his mouth around the bite.

Eskel and Geralt looked good in green, Lambert decided, both of them gripping their utensils so tight they were bending and it wasn’t until half way through the cake that Jaskier looked over at them with a small smile.

“Oh don’t look like that, you both will get the exact same treatment on your days… with your own gifts,” Jaskier smiled, offering another bite to Lambert. Geralt and Eskel smiled, a giddy feeling rising in their chests, suddenly finding themselves very much looking forward to their new name days.

[aroomie]

Zoo

Jaskier looked at his watch, making a noise low in his throat as he realized that it was five minutes passed the hour they said they would meet. He started to get nervous, looking around the area as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Five minutes turned into ten, ten to fifteen, Jaskier was beginning to wonder if this man was even going to show up when fifteen turned into twenty and he was about to give up, turning around and cruising himself for finally believing that the stupid dating app finally spit something good out.

“Excuse me…” A deep gravelly voice behind him nade jaskier pause, spinning on his heels as his gaze landed on and older gentlemen. Jaskier looked him over, tall, well build for his age -which Jaskier assumed was mid to late fifties- and Jaskier put on his best smile when his gaze came back up to the man's face, admiring the amber colour of his eyes.

“Can I help you?” Jaskier asked, tilting his head slightly.

“You… ah,” The older man rubbed the back of his neck, shifting uncomfortably. “I’m Vesemir, ah, daddywolf4 if we go by the app.”

Jaskier’s jaw dropped as he looked at the man, looking him up and down once again. Sure they shared images, but the man, Vesemir, had been shy about sharing his face so he only sent ones from the neck down.

“Man… your carpets definitely do not match the drapes,” Jaskier blurted out. Both men went ramrod straight, staring at each other wide eyed before bursting out into laughter.

“No, no they definitely don’t,” Vesemir laughed, shaking his head as he ran a hand through his white hair, the rest of his body not getting the memo yet and staying covered in a nice pillowed layer of black.

“You’re late, you know,” Jaskier sassed, smirking at Vesemir as he folded his arms over his chest, watching as Vesemir looked away sheepishly.

“I know, I’m sorry. I was here, at the right time, but when I saw you I…” Vesemir looked away, licking his lips. “You’re so young, I mean… I know your age! I saw your pictures! I just…”

“Got scared?” Jaskier supplied, smiling sweetly as Vesemir nodded. “You were worried I’d see your age, call you a creep, and leave?” Vesemir nodded again. “Oh, you poor sweet man,” Jaskier walked over to Vesemir and looped his arm around the older man’s arm, smiling up at him.

“What are you doing?” Vesemir asked, lifting a brow as he looked at Jaskier.

“I am waiting to be escorted on our first date!” Jaskier said happily, grinning up at the shocked look on Vesemir’s face.

“F-first?” Vesemir asked, watching JAskier the entire time as they went to the window, paid the entry fee, letting himself be tugged a long.

“Of course! Now that I’ve seen your face, you really think I’m letting someone as handsome as you just, what? Walk away?” Jaskier asked, smiling up at him as he kept a hand on Vesemir the entire time they walked around.

“And… my age?” Vesemir prompted, watching as jaskier tilted his head in question. “You are not bothered by it?” Vesemir clarified.

“Gods no!” Jaskier said happily, leaning over the exhibit wall for the elephants and smiled. “Are you bothered that I am so young?” Jaskier looked over his shoulder at Vesemir.

“No! No,” Vesemir shook his head quickly, moving his free hand to hold Jaskier’s against his arm. “You are gorgeous, just as your pictures, if more so,” Vesemir smiled down at jaskier, loving the way the boys cheeks tinted pink.

They walked about in a comfortable silence, Jaskier occasionally filling it with random facts about what ever animal they were currently looking at. When they reached Vesemir's favorite exhibit, the wolves, the older man smirked as he gently squeezed Jaskier’s hand to get his attention.

“Did you know,” he started, “that wolves mate for life?” Vesemir looked at Jaskier from the corner of his eyes.

“What? No they don’t!” Jaskier squealed, laughing as Vesemir just shrugged and looked at the pack. “Do they…?” Jaskier glances up at Vesemir, his bright blue eyes blinking doely at the older man.

“Hmmm, want to find out?” Vesemir smiled at Jaskier, turning his head to give him his undivided attention. Jaskier blinked, staring at him, connecting the dots to Vesemir’s user name from the app and a large grin appeared on his lips.

“Depends,” Vesemir’s brow ticked in question, “are you opposed to kissing on a first date?”

Jaskier smiled widely as Vesemir laughed, the older man wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s waist and pulling the younger man flush to his body and tilted his head down to capture Jaskier’s lips with his as the younger man tilted his head up, wrapping his arms around Vesemir’s shoulders. The kiss deepened as Jaskier opened his lips to Vesemir, the younger man’s chuckle being swallowed by Vesemir as the wolves started to howl.

[aroomie]

Bee

Jaskier stared out the window of the car, tapping his fingers on his thighs as he watched the city turn into thick trees, licking his lips again.

“Jaskier, stop it,” Geralt growled, glancing over at his boyfriend and smirked when he saw how jittery Jaskier was with nerves.

“I can’t help it!” Jaskier throws his hands up. “It’s not every day your boyfriend asks you if you want to go meet his brother!”

Geralt laughed, looking back at the road. He and Jaskier had been together for just short of a year, it was about time Geralt took Jaskier to go meet the rest of his family.

“You met one of my brothers before,” Geralt looked at Jaskier, the man scoffing.

“Lambert doesn’t count, my love, everyone knows, even Vesemir, that he’s not your favorite brother,” Jaskier says with a roll of his eyes, making Geralt laugh.

“Point. Lambert is an acquired taste, one that you seem to have gotten the handle of,” Geralt smiled, pulling off the highway and onto a dirt road.

“Oh, please, my charms can win over anyone. Got you didn’t I?” Jaskier smiles wide, reaching over and putting his hand on Geralt’s thigh as the man hummed softly, giving Jaskier a playful side eye’d glare, pulling back his lips into a small snarl.

“Or so you think,” Geralt growls and Jaskier lets out an exaggerated offended noise, retracting his hand and places it over his chest.

“You wound me!” Jaskier places the back of his other hand on his forehead, ever the melodramatic, and Geralt just laughed as he threw the car into park once they finally reached their destination.

“Oh, shut up,” Geralt reached over with one hand and grabbed Jaskier by the collar of his shirt and pulled him over, crashing their lips together. Jaskier melted into the kiss with a soft moan, leaning into it and managed to get his fingers into Geralt’s hair just as the white-haired man pulled back.

“Come on, Eskel is waiting, we are already late,” Geralt said as he slid out of the car, waiting for Jaskier as his boyfriend sighed heavily and got out as well.

“Remind me again, your brother owns…?” Jaskier asks, walking around the car and taking Geralt’s outstretched hand.

“Bee’s,” Geralt says, pulling Jaskier along as they walk up to the house and knock, “he’s got a thing for them, something about them helping the planet and shit,” Geralt knocks again. “ESKEL!”

Jaskier smiles, waiting with Geralt for another minute before the man sighs heavily.

“Must have gotten distracted, c’mon,” Geralt pulled Jaskier’s hand, leading him from the porch to the back of the house.

“Does he do anything else with the bee’s?” Jaskier asks, hugging Geralt’s arm to his body as they walked.

“He collects the honey they make. They have a weird relationship with one another,” Geralt said and Jaskier’s brow pinched, looking up at Geralt with a lifted brow.

“Weird relationship? How can you have a weird relationship with an insect?” Jaskier asks, stopping when Geralt stopped and giving his boyfriend a confused look when Geralt sighed heavily.

“Take a look,” Geralt flung a hand out, Jaskier’s eyes following the motion and his jaw drops and the scene before them.

Not only mentioning the shear <i>size</i> of the property the was lined with hives and all sorts of wild flowers for the bee’s to get pollen from, right smack dab in the middle of a field was a man around Geralt’s height, built like a fucking truck, with dark almost black brown hair pushed back and tied loosely into a bun.

Jaskier’s eyes traveled across the man, Eskel, and lciked his lips as he took in the sight of his state of undress. Eskel was not only in the middle of a field, he was naked, and not just naked, but every single little juicy detail about the man was covered in some sort of live lingerie as the man was covered in various numbers of bee’s.

“I’m sorry… are those…?” Jaskier points.

“Yep,” Geralt popped the ‘p’.

“And they're not…?” Jaskier looked at Geralt.

“Nope,” Geralt once again popped the ‘p’ sound.

“Huh,” Jaskier looked back towards Eskel, the man now looking towards them and smiling brightly, Jaskier found himself blushing.

“Geralt, I love you, but holy fuck your brother is hot,” Jaskier licked his lips and Geralt threw his head back and laughed.

“C’mon,” Geralt pulled Jaskier along, approaching Eskel quickly as the man started to walk towards them. “Couldn’t keep your clothes on, brother?” Geralt gave Eskel a once over, the bee’s hovering around Eskel like they naturally belonged on his body.

“Couldn’t get here when you said you would?” Eskel snarked back, grinning.

Oh yes, Jaskier definitely liked this brother more.

[aroomie]

Crown

Jaskier smiled as he watched Ciri run around the field picking flowers, they were at Kaer Morhen still when the snows had melted and everything had returned to a vibrant green. Jaskier took it upon himself to teach Ciri how to make a flower crown, the young princess eagerly agreeing as she bounced on her toes, Vesemir reluctantly giving them the day training free.

They sat together, knees touching with all the various flowers that Ciri had gathered between their legs, the young girl so focused, her tongue sticking out from her lips.

“You want to go under, there, darling,” Jaskier pointed at the stems of flowers where Ciri had gone over instead, smiling when she groaned but fixed it.

“Having fun?” Jaskier and Ciri looked up at the new voice, smiling wide as Eskel approached them.

“Yeah! It’s hard though…” Ciri pouted at her crown, making Eskel smile.

“I’m sure it’s not that hard,” Eskel sat down next to them, taking a bunch of flowers for himself and looked at Jaskier expectantly for direction.

Jaskier spend the entire day trying to teach princess and Witcher how to make a flower crown, helping Eskel much more than Ciri as the Witcher was having trouble figuring it out, a fact that delighted Ciri to no end as she finally completed her first crown that held together properly while Eskel still only had half a crown falling apart.

Ciri had stepped in to help Eskel as well, the three of them working on one crown. When it was finally done, obviously not as neat looking as Jaskier’s or Ciri’s, they headed back to the keep for dinner.

Ciri proudly presented her flower crown to Vesemir, putting it on the old wolf's head and giggling when he just grunted and went about dishing out the stew. Jaskier had given his crown to Geralt, smiling as the white wolf kissed him on the lips sweetly, wrapping his arms around Jaskier’s waist as the bard dropped himself into his seat.

Lastly, Eskel just unceremoniously dropped his crown on Lambert’s head, the youngest wolf blinking owlishly at the scarred Witcher. He reached up to touch the crown, his cheeks turning a light shade of pink and quickly looked at the table, fiddling with his spoon. Ciri coughed, giving Eskel a pointed look when he looked towards the girl, her eyes darting towards Lambert. Eskel huffed quietly, smiling as he shook his head and quickly leaned over and planted a kiss on Lambert’s cheek.

The others laughed, watching as Eskel and Lambert both turned a bright shade of pink with embarrassment, the youngest wolf scooting closer to Eskel throughout dinner until he was firmly squished against the scarred Witcher’s side, ignoring the giggles from the others when Eskel’s arm wrapped around his shoulders and held him close.

Jaskier grinned over at Eskel and Lambert, watching as the two tried to be affectionate but still couldn’t quite figure it out. They had seen each other as brothers for so long, best friends to one another, until finally Lambert had blurted out ungracefully that he had actually cared for Eskel as… more. Eskel took a couple days to process what Lambert had said, admitting he didn’t think Lambert would ever share the same feelings.

Now it just needed time. Time to learn each other, see what they liked, how to act around one another. As it turns out, Lambert was a cuddler, don’t say that to his face though, less you like getting punched in the face.

[major-trouble]

Chaos Countdown (Read on AO3)

He’s running out of time.

The sun is cresting the horizon, dragging fingertips of red light over cobblestones and painting the dull brick of the clock tower a nearly unnatural orange.

Lambert races through the streets, bundle held tight to his chest, teeth gritted together so hard his jaw aches from the strain. He keeps ahead of the approaching dawn, but just barely. If he slows, even for a second, this will all be over.

 He’s running.

The cloak in his arms shifts and shimmers. The iridescent feathers seem to reach out for the sunlight behind him and he grips it tighter. It feels almost alive in his grasp and he puts on a burst of speed, feeling the warmth of sunlight nipping at his heels.

 Time is running out.

Everything had been so simple three days ago. A simple contract. A simple beast to kill. A simple reward to collect. But then Jaskier had gotten involved. He’d asked questions. He hadn’t liked the answers. So he pushed, seeking the truth behind the griffin roaming the fields behind the Baron’s keep. The one that seemed far too intelligent to be a mere beast.

And the truth did out.

When Lambert had come back, a young man’s body slung over his shoulder instead of the head of a griffin gripped in his hand, furious at the deception, the Baron told him the bard had left. That seemed highly unlikely, given the two had been travelling together for nearly 10 months and Jaskier had yet to get tired of his stories. The bard was like a burr attached to him. An overly chatty, extraordinarily attractive burr.

Needless to say, Lambert hadn’t believed the Baron, and told him so at sword-point. It had taken a few false starts, and an examination of the body he’d brought back, to get the full story. The Barony was cursed. Specifically, the Baron’s sons. For two hundred years, the patriarchal line of the Barony was cursed to have one son forced into the body of a griffin, set to roam the lands around the castle.

Apparently, someone had angered a very powerful sorcerer.

The last Baron had found a way to thwart the curse. With the help of a hedge witch, he’d contained the curse, severing it from the familial line. However, it still needed somewhere to go. Hence the poor farm boy whose body Lambert had brought back. He’d been so angry at being cursed, he’d wreaked havoc on the castle grounds, destroying buildings and terrorizing anyone who dared go beyond the walls.

Lambert sympathized with the dead boy fervently.

Now, the curse had been let loose on Jaskier. The stupidly trusting bard had been lured into complacency and was paying the price, transformed into a griffin and forced out into the woods around the castle. The Witcher was, understandably, furious. He’d interrogated the hedge mage, and when that didn’t work, called in a favour.

Merigold didn’t appreciate the overpowering scent of blood in the mage’s work room, but she had helped anyway. It was an old curse - of course - involving old magic, and therefore needed a very specific remedy to break it.

So now here he was, being chased by the rising dawn, a cloak of living feathers gripped tight to his chest as he tried to get to Jaskier before the light of the third day. Because that’s what Merigold had said. He had three days to get the cloak, lay it over Jaskier, and break the curse.

His boots beat a staccato rhythm in tune with his heart as he rounds the edge of the last building in the village. He sprints across the open field, his eyes picking out the sprawled form of the griffin, pinned down by rope infused with the blood of the Baron and his offspring. The warmth of the dawn is edging across the grass as he skids to a halt, looking down into half-lidded eyes still that vibrant blue he’s gotten so used to these past few months.

Unfurling the cloak, he struggles to keep it still. It is nearly alive, the feathers moving by themselves against his hands. He forces it down over Jaskier’s form, smoothing it out over the nearly-still body, watching as it settles and clings to the tawny fur.

Just as he releases the edges, light breaks over the buildings behind him, bathing the cloak-covered griffin. It reflects off the feathers, the glow so bright that Lambert has to turn away, raising a hand to his eyes to block it. There’s a deep thrumming that fills the air and pulses through the ground beneath him. He thinks he can hear the distant sound of screaming, as if from very far away. When he looks back, Jaskier is huddled on the ground, wrapped in a cloak that now seems to be made of ravens’ feathers. The ropes have broken, snapped and frayed at the ends, and lay around his still form.

Lambert drops to his knees beside the bard, gathering him into his arms, uncaring of how the feathers poke and prod at his skin. He touches Jaskier’s cheek and is met with brilliant blue eyes and a tired grin. A hand comes up to tangle itself in Lambert’s short hair, dragging his face down so his lips meet Jaskier’s in a kiss so natural that he leans into it without thinking. The thrum of power flows through them both like a shockwave.

When they finally break apart, the look of adoration and trust on Jaskier’s face makes something solidify in Lambert’s chest. Here is someone worth all his time.