#bloodbuzz-smartypants

[khaleesidracarys]

List 5 things that make you happy, then put this in the askbox for the last 10 people who liked or reblogged something from you! Get to know your mutuals and followers. 💜 (no pressure, of course!)

hi :)

Hi! 💜

A list of 5 things that make me happy.

Yorkshire tea with milk in it.

New bed sheets and shaved legs.

The smell of summer nights-when you've been outside all day and come back inside and you smell like flowers, grass and sun.

Coffee in bed with my cat and dog.

Writing.

Thank you x

[wren-of-the-woods]

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome. 💌

🥺💖 This gave me a much-needed smile. Thank you so much!! 💕

[endlich-allein]

💌 Send this to the twelve nicest people you know or who seem to have a good heart and if you get five back you must be pretty awesome. 💌 [ramm-ramm]

@bloodbuzz-smartypants ❤️❤️

[seidenbros]

Hello! Saw your link to the drabble prompt list, and there are so many good ones there! Are you still taking those? Could you go for Geraskier with any of: “Please don’t do this.”, OR “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”, OR “I wish I could hate you.”? Your pick ;) Thanks ahead!

Thank you so so much for sending these, and YES I love these drabbles, especially because I end up writing somethign at least a little shorter than I usually tend to do. I decided to go for "Please don't do this" and "I wish I could hate you" all in one, because it fit so perfectly together. I might do the other one later on as well, because they are so mich fun to write

(Taken from this list and here are some other prompts, but feel free to request anything <3)

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, fluff Word Count: 1413

____________________

He'd had enough. Jaskier couldn't stay here anymore, couldn't take more of Geralt's self-destructive behaviour in order to feel something. He'd told Jaskier that he needed to feel something, that he was lost, that the only time when he really felt alive was when he was fighting monsters, physically draining his own body. Every time Jaskier had stitched him up, had taken care of his injuries, but he'd also pleaded with the Witcher to be more careful. He wouldn't feel alive anymore of one of the monsters managed to kill him because he wasn't careful enough.

Last night had absolutely taken the cake. Geralt had barely made it out alive. Jaskier had managed to get him to a healer, had helped as much as he could, but it had been painful for the Bard. Gods, he'd loved that man for years now, had never said a word, because he hadn't wanted to destroy their friendship, but by now... he couldn't take that anymore. If Geralt wanted to get himself killed, Jaskier wouldn't stop him anymore, but he would also not stay by his side and watch him do that. He couldn't. It broke his heart to see his friend, the man he loved like this, so for his own safety, he had to leave, had to take a different path. Throughout the night, he'd had lots of time to think about it, to weigh the pros and cons, but with Geralt behaving this way, there was nothing positive in staying with the Witcher, even if the thought of leaving already made Jaskier weary. But he'd tried to talk to him, to tell him that he needed to stop, but Geralt hadn't listened.

In a way, Jaskier understood Geralt's behaviour, because he'd wanted to feel alive as well, which had been his reason to leave Oxenfurt. So, he'd ended up with a Witcher, which meant getting in danger on the one hand, but on the other, he also had someone around who knew how to deal with every kind of creature.

Jaskier had stayed up to watch over Geralt, make sure that he was alright, until he woke up in the eraly morning hours. The Witcher stirred, slowly opened his eyes and found Jaskier's. Immediately, a smile spread across his face, relief flooded his body, because his Bard was here.

“Jaskier,” he started, voice hoarse from sleep and a dry throat which was why the bard handed him some water.

“Good, you're awake. That means, I can go now.” Jaskier got up from where he was sitting. If he stayed any longer, he knew that he wouldn't go though with his plan, that Geralt would do or say something that made him stay in the end, but that would only lead to more pain, wouldn't it?

“What do you mean?” Geralt asked, slowly, carefully sitting up so that he could lean his back against the headboard of the bed, eyes intently on Jaskier. Did he have to be somewhere? Was he supposed to be on stage somewhere? Not likely at this time of day, that was for sure.

“I'm going home. I'm sick and tired of watching your trying to get yourself killed and DON'T tell me that's not what's happening.” Jaskier didn't let him speak up, even though he knew, could see that Geralt wanted to protest. The bard was tired, worn out, and couldn't deal with worrying about the man he loved all the time. Right now, he had to think about his own well-being, even if that meant leaving Geralt behind.

“Please don't do this,” Geralt said, wrapping his hand around Jaskier's wrist when the bard tried to walk away. He couldn't let Jaskier go, couldn't let his best friend just leave him, when he was the only thing that still somehow made sense in his life. Geralt didn't even know how it had happened, but Jaskier had turned from annoying little singer to the person that held his heart. But he could never expect Jaskier to love him, because who could ever love a Witcher? He'd heard it more than enough, but Jaskier had stayed by his side as a friend, and if he couldn't have Jaskier's heart, he wanted to keep him as a friend.

Jaskier stilled, he laughed to himself, because he'd known that, had known that if Geralt got the chance to say anything, he'd think about his own plans again. “You know...” he started, shaking his head, Geralt's hand still wrapped around his wrist, not letting him go. “I wish I could hate you, then I would actually be able to leave and not care about what happens to you.”

Right now, though, Jaskier only hated himself for loving the Witcher so much, for not being able to walk out on him, when it was the healthy thing for him to do, to keep his own sanity.

“I'm sorry, Jaskier...” Geralt loosened his grip on the Bard's wrist and instead took his hand in his own. “You can hate me. Hate me all you want, I deserved that!”

“No you don't. I could never hate you.” Jaskier heaved a sigh, looking down at their joined hands. “But I hate myself for loving you.”

“What?”

“What?”

Oh... Oh... he'd really said that out loud. Melitele help him, because that was not what he'd wanted to say to Geralt. Right now, he wanted to get away even more than he'd done before. All these years, he hadn't said a thing, and now, he blurted it out like it was the most normal thing in the world. All the more reason to get away, but there was no chance, as Geralt's grip on his hand tighetened.

All of a sudden, he felt himself being pulled towards the Witcher, onto the bed and into Geralt's embrace. The Witcher winced because of Jaskier's body hitting his chest, the injuries there still fresh.

“What are you doing?” Jaskier asked, heart beating rapidly in his chest. He stayed completely still, not knowing what to make out of this behaviour, but Geralt didn't say a word. Instead, he ran his right hand along Jaskier's back, places the left one on the Bard's cheek. Jaskier swallowed hard, but then Geralt turned his face towards him so that he had to look at the Witcher – and then his lips were on Jaskier's. Soft, but still demanding, his tongue urging Jaskier's lips to open up for him, and he complied. A shiver ran down his spine, the kiss making his head spin. Was he imagining things? Head HE hit his head instead of Geralt? This couldn't be happening, could it?

Oh, but it felt all too real! The soft stroke of Geralt's thumb against his cheek, the Witcher's warm skin beneath his own fingers as they connected with his broad shoulders... This was happening, it wasn't just a dream. Jaskier eventually broke the kiss to gasp for air. Eyes only halfway open, he looked at the Witcher before him. His Witcher, who now opened his eyes and looked straight into Jaskier's.

“What-” Jaskier started, but he was cut short by Geralt with words he'd never expected to hear from him.

“I love you, Jaskier.” Slowly, a smile spread across the Witcher's lips, something Jaskier hadn't seen in a very long time, and it filled his heart with happiness. “I just... never thought you could love me.”

“Oh Geralt...” Jaskier sighed, framing the Witcher's face with both his hands. “I've loved you for years. Believe me, if I had a say in this, I would have fallen for someone else and not for my best friend.” The Bard shrugged his shoulders, a smile spreading on his face. “Yet, here we are.”

“So... does that mean, you're not leaving?” There was something desperate, something scared in the Witcher's voice that Jaskier had never heard before, and it touched his heart even more.

“If you promise not to be so reckless anymore... then I'm staying.”

“Promise!” Geralt didn't miss a beat to answer him, to make him realise that he was serious about this. “I've got someone who makes me feel alive by my side, and I don't want to lose him.”

Jaskier's heart skipped another beat when he heard these words, so he leaned forward to touch his lips to Geralt's again, and he wasn't going to stop with that so soon.

[scarletvisionss]

7. What’s a troupe you love to write? :)

Ohhh, I love tropes of all sorts, but probably friends to lovers and "they both think it's unrequited" are my favorite. I also love the soulmate trope and the urban fantasy trope! Thank you so much!!!! 🥰🥰🥰

[tonofstupidness]

bloodbuzz-smartypants replied to your post: As the incident of today (one of many of its kind...

Fk'em. Do your thing. It’s the same for me. I speak my mind so i’m ‘difficult’ or too head strong, or have so much personality

Thank you! Lol, right?? TOO MUCH PERSONALITY! Trust me, I’m a very basic individual, so it’s funny to me that having an opinion that *gasp* doesn’t coincide with the man’s opinion is considered too much to handle. Excuse me for not wanting to metaphorically stay at home and iron your shirts :p

[chaostrick]

Ahhh Parabéns!! 🎉🎂🎉 Nunca sei os aniversários da malta aqui! Ainda bem que postaste a tua resposta ;) Tem um óptimo dia! Desejo-te tudo de bom! 😊

Cara eu também não sei de geral, só lembro dos signos de alguns 😅 (não que sirva de muita coisa, mas ajuda ;) hahhaha). Obrigada Fi!!

[buckybarnesis]

send this to 10 other bloggers that you think are wonderful. keep the positivity spreading and make others feel beautiful! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ ✨

Thank you so much, Fi! ♥♥♥

[wren-of-the-woods]

✨️when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to, publish. then, tag 10 of your followers (negotiable, positivity is cool)✨️

Tagged by @dreamofbecoming and @wanderlust-t!! Thank you both so much 🥰 I'll join Charlie in pretending that I regularly listen to more than TAD and just list one song per artist!

Drinking Song for the Socially Anxious by The Amazing Devil

Hog Eye Man by The Longest Johns

Lover Please Stay by Nothing But Theives

Jupiter by Gustav Holst

The Dog Days Are Over by Florence + The Machine

Not sure who's been tagged already, but I'll try @natthemess @leaena2go @bloodsoaked-rainbows @elder-flower @bloodbuzz-smartypants @witcherbeech @flowercrown-bard @soundsfaebutokay @rebrandedbard @ithoughtitwaspronouncedgeralt and anyone else who feels like hopping in! <3

[yeraskier]

“i didnt know where else to go” (taken from this prompt list, for @bloodbuzz-smartypants)

There’s a knock at the door.

Jaskier’s wearing his most charming smile as he stands to answer it— this time of night means that it must be Lambert.

It’s isn’t.

“Geralt.”

“Hi.”

For a beat, all Jaskier can think about is how desperately he hopes Lambert doesn’t show tonight. Then, he takes in Geralt’s appearance— the dip of his head, the hollowness in his eyes, the clench of his hands— and suddenly, nothing else really matters.

“Do you want to come in?” He asks, giving Geralt room to enter before the man in question responds.

Geralt takes that invitation, and then invites himself to Jaskier’s bed. Where he’s sitting when Jaskier turns to face him after closing the door. Jaskier decides to not comment on that.

“So…”

He’s quiet for awhile and Jaskier does nothing to fill the silence.

Things have been... off between them. They haven’t been bad, per se. Geralt did apologize and he did welcome Jaskier into his home. Geralt does still trust him since he trusted Jaskier to bring Ciri back to Kaer Morhen.

The issue, he supposes, is that he doesn’t know if he still trusts Geralt. 

Jaskier trusts the witcher to protect him from physical harm, he always has. He trusts him with his body, and he always will.

But when it comes to his mind and soul, when it comes to his heart, he doesn’t know if he’ll ever trust Geralt with them again. It’s made him distant.

So, things haven’t been the same. They haven’t been the same. They’re quiet in each other’s presence, they tip toe around one another. It’s suffocating. Every time Jaskier’s in a room with Geralt, all he can do is ponder over the quickest way to get out of the room.

And now he’s in a room with Geralt, and he can’t exactly find an escape route here given that it’s his room, which he... willingly invited Geralt into.

“Geralt, would you like to tell me what this is all about?”

Truthfully, he’s prepared to not receive any bit of enlightenment at all, so he’s more than mildly shocked when Geralt actually speaks. 

“I just... I haven’t been... I needed—” Geralt’s grunts, hands forming fists against his thighs, “I don’t know... I just wanted to get away from my own thoughts for awhile and I didn’t know who to turn to. I didn’t know where else to go.”

There’s that familiar pang in his chest. Jaskier refuses to look into it. 

“What happened?”

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” Geralt tells him, “I’ve been having nightmares.”

“I’m sure Yennefer has potions that can help,” Jaskier suggests. He regrets the words even before he takes note of the sudden tension in Geralt’s shoulders. 

“I can go if you don’t want me here.”

Jaskier should take this out, he should tell him to leave.

He doesn’t want Geralt here. He doesn’t want Geralt anywhere near him because every time he’s around, Jaskier can feel the wall he carefully constructed over the past few months crumbling beneath that golden gaze.

He doesn’t want Geralt here because he always wants him here. He always wants him. That’s the problem.

Jaskier sighs, “you can stay.” He moves to the bed at last, leaving only a few inches between them as he takes a seat beside Geralt, “you can stay, and we can talk about whatever’s on your mind.”

Geralt levels him with kind eyes. "Can we just sit here for a moment?”

“Yes,” Jaskier says, “though I kind of want to lay down. My back aches from training today,” he explains, “if that’s okay with you?”

It’s a stupid question. It’s his room and his bed. He can do what he wants here. Yet here he is, bending over backwards to please the witcher in his own space— another thing to add to the list of things Jaskier will absolutely not be exploring tonight.

Geralt nods once and scoots over, giving Jaskier room to spread out on the side nearest to the wall. A sigh of relief breaks free as his outstretched body presses into the mattress. He basks in it for just a moment, before cracking an eye open to see Geralt watching him.

“Lay with me.” The words have left his mouth before the thought fully formed in his head, but he doesn’t retract them.

The corners of Geralt’s lips twitch into an almost, barely-there, maybe smile, before he shifts to lay down as well.

They aren’t touching but they are facing each other, and the way Geralt’s watching him feels oddly intimate. 

It’s a dangerous thought, and what he’s feeling being this close to Geralt is a dangerous thing to feel, but he’s helpless to it. He always has been. 

“Thank you,” Geralt says softly.

Helpless, he thinks. He always will be.

Jaskier smiles. “Always.”

[horsedadgeralt]

of you and me [why didn’t you say something?]

Geralt loves Jaskier. Jaskier loves Geralt. Will either of them speak up?

@bloodbuzz-smartypants​ asked for: “ Geraskier, the oh moment for each of them, ie, when do they realize they're in love. Any time, any place, I'll leave it to you.“ What was supposed to be a ficlet decided to turn into this. I hope you enjoy it <3 (And thank you to @sulkyskywalker for being the most wonderful beta as always.)

wc: 4.1k cw: none tags: hurt/a bit of comfort, canon divergence, parts of it post season 2

read it also on ao3!

  one.

Geralt was tired. His muscles were aching, every step making it feel as though his clothes were laced with lead. The hunt had been successful, yes, but he had had to use more potions than he liked. The effects were starting to wear off, but Cat was still running through his veins, forcing him to squint his eyes nearly shut in an attempt to drown out the sun.

It was blinding, so much so that he knew that it was only a matter of time before he would get a headache.

Fucking Glumaars and their fucking caves.

The sun was already starting to set. Had he really been gone all day? It didn't feel like it, but the cave had been hidden deeper in the forest than anticipated, and so most of his time had been spent simply trying to locate it.

He could already see the village in the distance. Just a few more minutes and he could get out of his armour, could lie down and sleep.

As Geralt marched on, he was wondering what Jaskier had been up to whilst he was gone. Writing? Singing? Flirting? Whatever it was, Geralt simply hoped that the bard would be gone from their room so that there would be silence.

He couldn't handle any sort of noise right now. Even the twittering of the birds was making his ears hurt, and Jaskier was notorious for never knowing when to shut up. The Witcher didn't want to snap at him though, and so he prayed to the gods that Jaskier would be out as he walked up the stairs to their room.

He could hear the muffled noises coming from the tavern downstairs, each snippet of a conversation feeling like a nail being hammered directly into his temple.

He sighed and opened the door to their room, only to stop dead in his tracks as soon as he had entered it.

The sun hadn't fully set yet, but the room was dark: no light coming from the window, only a single candle lit on the table. With Cat, it was still easy to make out all the details— the furs draped over the window, the bathtub in the middle of the room with little clouds of steam rising above it, and Jaskier sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for him.

"What—" Geralt began to ask, but Jaskier didn't let him finish, instead getting up and walking towards him.

"You were gone for almost the entire day, so I knew that you were going to be exhausted by the time you got back. I thought," he began working on the buckles of Geralt's armour, unfastening them with a flick of the wrist, "that I could make sure everything was ready for your return."

One last buckle and then Geralt's armour was being lifted off his shoulders and gently put on the ground. The Witcher simply watched as Jaskier continued working, letting him pull off his gloves and throwing them on the bed.

“I wasn’t certain which potions you would have to use, so I darkened the room just in case. And I also didn’t put any oils into the baths as not to overwhelm your senses anymore. It’s just water, but nice and hot, so your muscles can still relax.”

Geralt was stunned.

They had only been travelling together for a few weeks, and yet the bard had picked up on all these things, had done all this completely unprompted.

His mind and heart were racing, and this time it wasn’t because of a potion.

He stared at Jaskier who was looking at him with a soft smile. Even in the low light, his eyes were sparkling, blue and beautiful and—

Oh.

No. No, he didn’t want to notice these things, he couldn’t.

But Geralt did.

And so he noticed the stubborn strand of hair that would always hang into Jaskier’s eyes, no matter how often he brushed it out of his face. The soft blush on his face, probably from carrying all the water. The broadness of his shoulders, hidden underneath all that poofy fabric. The sharp line of his jaw. And the smell of chamomile and sandalwood and something else that told him that yes, this was Jaskier.

Famous bard, breaker of hearts. And as of now, owner of his.

Jaskier brushed by him, his hand squeezing Geralt’s for a second before he was out of the door. “I’ll leave you to it, take your time!”

The Witcher didn’t even answer, just stared at the bathtub with Jaskier’s words still echoing in his ears.

This was not how he had pictured this day to end.

  two.

“Are you sure that you are going to be fine?” Geralt asked, his eyebrows furrowed. He had brought Roach to a halt at the small crossroads where they would part ways — the Witcher to Kaer Morhen and Jaskier to Oxenfurt.

“Please,” Jaskier replied, “what do you think I did before I met you? Stay at home all day because the world was too dangerous”, he made quotation marks with his fingers, “for little old me? You have nothing to worry about.”

The look in Geralt’s eyes told him that he wasn’t fully satisfied with his answer, but Jaskier chose to ignore it, instead going through his belongings one last time. He opened the bag that was hanging from his shoulder and started listing its contents.

“Food, check. My new doublet, check. Enough paper and quill to last me for the entire journey, check. Looks like I’ve got everything I need!”

“Not everything.”

At that, Jaskier looked up. Geralt had hopped off Roach and was now standing in front of him with his hand extended. There was something lying in his palm, something small and sharp—

“Is that what I think it is?”

“A dagger. To protect yourself. I had it made for you so that you wouldn’t be completely defenseless on the way back home.”

Carefully, Jaskier picked up the weapon. It was delicate, its short handle wrapped with leather that ensured a safe grip. The blade shone a beautiful silver, and as he lifted it up to get a closer look, he felt a lump appear in his throat. Right above the handle, there was something engraved into the metal, so tiny it was barely visible, and yet it made Jaskier’s eyes water.

“They’re buttercups, I know you find them pretty.”

It didn’t happen often, but in that moment, Jaskier was speechless. In an attempt to mask it, he threw his arms around Geralt’s neck and hugged him tightly, careful not to accidentally stab him with his gift.

“Thank you, it’s beautiful.”

Geralt awkwardly returned the hug and gave him a gentle pat on the shoulder. When Jaskier pulled back, he hoped that he had managed to blink the tears away.

“Now no mugger will be able to take it up with me on my way to Oxenfurt!” he exclaimed, trying his hardest to sound cheerful.

He didn’t want to go. He didn’t want it to be winter. And most of all, he didn’t want to dwell on the fact that his heart ached every time he thought of all the months he would have to spend without Geralt.

The dagger had been the final nail in the coffin, or rather, the literal knife to the heart.

He was in love with the Witcher.

Jaskier fell in love every day. With the kind merchant who gifted him a third honey cake for free, or the innkeeper who wanted nothing more than a song in exchange for dinner, or with the Alderman’s daughter who gave him a flower simply because she liked his hair.

Jaskier fell in love every day, over and over again.

He was a bard, and every bard needed love as his muse.

Love was his strength.

Geralt was his biggest weakness.

Geralt, with his stoic manner and strictness. His secret smiles and dry humour. Geralt, with hair so light it looked like snow and eyes that shone as brightly as the sun when he allowed himself to laugh. Geralt, his best friend and more often than not, his knight in shining armour (or rather his Witcher in leather armour).

When had been the first time Jaskier had noticed just how handsome the Witcher really was? When had been the first time he had let his eyes linger as the other man undressed after a hunt, when he had wanted to reach out and touch?

He didn’t remember, but right now was when he realized that he was truly, completely smitten.

Geralt’s voice snapped him out of the whirlwind of emotions he was experiencing and he shook his head to get his thoughts in order.

“Remember what I taught you and try to stay out of trouble, okay?” The Witcher had put his hand on Jaskier’s shoulder as he said that, squeezing it for emphasis before letting go once more.

Jaskier watched in silence as he climbed back on top of Roach. He took a tentative step forward and petted her front, earning a soft huff in return.

“This is it then,” he said. A question and a statement at once. Please, this can’t be it. Not when I’ve only just found out what you truly mean to me. Don’t let this be it.

“This is it,” Geralt answered, giving him the hint of a smile before he pressed his heels into Roach’s side to get her moving. “Until spring, Jaskier.”

And then he was gone, growing smaller in the distance whilst Jaskier stood there, watching. At least his heart would be safe with the Witcher.

  three.

It was late. Too late, most likely only a few more hours until sunrise, but Geralt didn’t care for that as he walked through corridor after corridor, the sound of his steps echoing in his ears.

The fight had been fought, the battle won — if you could call it a win when half your family had been killed in the process. A bitter smile appeared on his face for a split second before it was gone again, his mind preoccupied with something else.

Yes, today had been a day of unimaginable grief. Geralt’s chest had never felt more hollow, a knife of heartache wedged deeply in between his ribs slowly bleeding him dry, chipping away at him until there was nothing left.

And yet, he was still standing. Somehow he was still here, pushing onwards. For the family that was still here. For Ciri. For Jaskier.

He had reached his destination. Yennefer had told him which room she had found the bard in earlier today, and after unsuccessfully trying to fall asleep, tossing and turning every few moments, Geralt had decided to go find him.

The wooden door in front of him was all that separated them. Geralt was scared to find out what would be waiting for him on the other side of it.

Tentatively, he lifted his hand, taking one final breath before knocking. In the quiet of the night, each thud felt as loud as thunder, and still, it was nothing compared to the frantic beating of Geralt’s heart.

There was no response, but then the door was opened and suddenly, Jaskier was standing right in front of him.

“Geralt? What are you doing here, it’s the middle of the night!”

Jaskier was staring at him with tired eyes, the dark circles underneath them visible even in the low light. He smelled of wine, and the Witcher wondered for how long he had been drinking by himself already.

“I’m sorry,” he stammered, his tongue feeling very dry all of a sudden. He had thought that simply finding the courage to go to Jaskier’s room would be the hardest part, but now that he was here, that there was no turning back, he wished that he had thought this through more.

“I know it’s late, but can we talk?”

Jaskier didn’t reply but stepped to the side and waved his arm in a way that signalled to Geralt that he was allowed to come in.

The Witcher walked past him and entered the room. It wasn’t big, just about enough space for a bed and a table, the only source of light the moon shining through the window.

Had Jaskier been sleeping? The state of his bed indicated otherwise, countless pages scattered across it, almost like a second set of sheets.

It was noticeably colder than the rest of the castle, too, with no fire lit in the hearth. Geralt was about to raise his hand to cast Igni, but a quiet voice interrupted him.

“Don’t. Please.”

When the Witcher turned around to look at Jaskier, he found him leaning against the wall with his head hanging low. It was only then that Geralt’s eyes flickered down to the bard’s hand, clenched tightly into a fist.

Fuck.

“Jaskier, I—”

“It’s fine. I know you didn’t mean any harm.” Jaskier pushed himself off the wall and walked across the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed with his arms resting on his thighs.

Geralt, not quite sure what to do with himself, simply followed and sat down beside him, careful to still keep some distance between them.

He didn’t dare look at the bard as he spoke, instead once again focusing on that hand, still clenched so tightly that its knuckles had turned white.

“Forgive me for disturbing you so late at night.”

“It’s not like I was sleeping. It’s fine, really.” But Jaskier’s hoarse voice told Geralt that it was anything but, if the rapid speed of the bard’s heartbeat hadn’t been indicator enough already.

“It’s not. You’re not.”

“Why are you here, Geralt? Because if you wanted to check on me, you could have done that earlier today. But you didn’t.”

Jaskier was right.

“I know, and I’m sorry. I… I wanted to apologize.”

The ugly laugh Jaskier let out felt like a shard of glass in Geralt’s heart, adding another cut to the wound in his chest. Still, it was a welcome change from the grief that had been consuming him all day. Anything to forget about all the loss for a moment, even if it was at the expense of his own heart.

“I know you’re angry, and you have every right to be.”

“I’m not angry.” Jaskier sounded exhausted. He put his head in his hands.

“I’m tired, Geralt. Tired of waiting. You had months to apologize, but you never came to find me. And when you did because you supposedly needed my help?” Jaskier ran a hand through his hair and turned to look at Geralt.

The Witcher saw the tears glimmering in his eyes.

“Well, we both know that that’s not the truth, is it?”

Geralt could only sit there and listen, his mouth not willing to cooperate.

“I loved you, you know?”

A scream got stuck in Geralt’s throat. Somehow, he managed to keep it in. He wasn’t able to fight back the tears though.

Those words had managed to rip him open completely once more, and the tightness in his chest made it hard to breathe. His mind was spiralling.

 ”I loved you.”

 There could have been a chance.

 If only he had said something.

“Loved?” His voice felt raw.

But Jaskier ignored the question, staring straight ahead at the wall instead.

“I— I can’t stay here, Geralt.”

“What do you mean?” The Witcher’s heart was racing once more, any attempt to calm his breathing was futile. He knew what this meant. Knew what was coming. And yet, he was unable to prepare himself. He could only watch as the wave came closer, waiting until it consumed him, breaking him apart until every last piece of him had been carried away, lost forever.

“There’s nothing to do for me here. All I have are the clothes on my body and that’s it. I don’t even have my— Nevermind. I just have to go. I’m useless.”

Geralt opened his mouth to protest, but Jaskier didn’t even let him try.

“Don’t tell me I’m not, Geralt. Look at me. Yarpen could have taken Ciri to Kaer Morhen without me there. That fucking demon lady could have been defeated without me. I’m just a bard.” He unclenched his fist and looked at his palm. The skin was bumpy and red.

Geralt wanted to reach out and touch. Wanted to tell Jaskier that he was sorry, that he would set himself on fire if it meant taking away the pain, reversing what had happened. But he was silent, letting the wave wash over him.

“Stuck on top of that mountain. Stuck in prison. Stuck underneath that bloody table. And now I’m stuck here, in this castle. Not anymore. I’m tired of waiting.”

“Where are you going to go?”

 Please don’t. I know I don’t deserve you, but please don’t. I have lost so much, I can’t lose you, too. Not again.

“I don’t know. The coast maybe? Far away from everything.”

 Far away from me.

“Jaskier, I can’t go with you—”

“I know.” Jaskier’s voice sounded cold, premeditated. “You have to take care of Ciri, I understand. Family comes first.”

The wave collapsed on top of Geralt. He felt as though he was drowning, unable to breathe, to fight back. He was at Jaskier’s mercy, but the bard was ruthless.

The Witcher didn’t blame him.

 If life could give me one blessing…

“I would like to be alone now if that’s alright.”

Geralt stood up from the bed. Somehow he didn’t stumble as he walked to the door.

“See you tomorrow at breakfast.”

An olive branch.

Jaskier burned it to a crisp.

“Maybe. Goodnight, Geralt.”

 four.

He was awoken by the sound of birds chirping and the sun shining through the window, its rays tickling his nose. It felt warm on his face, and Jaskier already knew that the weather was going to be beautiful that day.

As he sat up in his bed and rubbed his eyes to fight the urge to go back to sleep, he took a look at his cabin.

He had left it in quite a state last night, the bottles of wine he had shared with his neighbours scattered across the table and his clothes flung over the back of a chair.

He would need to clean up after himself today, maybe go to the market, too.

Not yet, though.

First, he had to do something different.

After having taken care of his more basic needs, he quickly put on his coat and boots before heading out of the door, not even bothering to lock up behind him. There was no one to rob him, and nothing to be robbed.

As soon as he stepped outside, he took a moment to pause. The sun hit him directly in the face and he closed his eyes and lifted his head up towards the sky. Spring was coming, and just as nature was starting to come back to life, so was Jaskier.

He followed the small path down the grassy hill, careful not to slip on the morning dew. For the first time since he’d come here, he wasn’t freezing as he walked through the meadows that were between him and the reason he’d come here in the first place.

Jaskier took a deep breath and smiled. He could already smell it, the salt and seaweed in the air announcing what was waiting for him as soon as he turned around the corner.

Just a few more steps and the grass underneath his feet was replaced with sand, making him sink in a little deeper the further he marched down the beach.

Right now it was low tide and it took him a little while to reach the shore. But that didn’t bother him. He came here every morning, no matter the circumstances, even if the wind blew sand into his eyes and pierced his skin like tiny needles.

He needed to come here. He had meant to come sooner. And he had never meant to come alone.

Jaskier came to a stop and bent down to untie his boots, slipping out of them and tossing them into the sand before continuing down the beach barefoot. The sand was starting to get wet, and he glanced over his shoulder to look at the footprints he had left.

One set of prints, as always. Marching on, against all odds. It had been hell getting here, the first half of his trip aggravated by heaps of snow and a coldness that nearly took his fingers. Jaskier laughed.

Wouldn’t that have been ironic?

But somehow, he had made it. Had found this little cabin that he had called home for the last few months, had become friends with the lovely old couple that lived down the hill. Had started anew.

Somehow, he had persevered.

Water swashed around his feet. It was freezing, but Jaskier was used to it at this point. He squatted down and ran his hand through the tiny waves that came ashore. As he turned it upwards so that he could look at his palm, the sun was reflecting in the droplets of water dripping off his skin.

Nothing to see. The scars gone, disappeared thanks to a concoction a mage who still owed him a favour had made him.

A sad smile. He wondered how Yennefer was doing.

Jaskier clenched his hand into a fist.

Yes, his hand was healed. But it didn’t feel the same, oftentimes waking him up at night because there was an itch he couldn’t scratch even if he had continued scratching until his skin was raw. It felt different, like part of it didn’t belong to him.

Like part of it had stayed behind in Oxenfurt.

He got back up and walked deeper into the water until it came up to just below his knees. He didn’t mind if his trousers got wet, the walk back home would only take a few minutes.

A bit further away, he could see pieces of seaweed drifting in the sea, defenceless against the tide, being swished back and forth until they eventually disappeared out of sight.

For a long time, Jaskier had felt like that. Like there were always bigger forces at play than him, and that there was nothing he could do against it. That there was no way, no reason to advocate for himself.

It had taken coming here for him to realize that he was allowed to be his own person.

Nothing puts things into perspective like staring into the endless blue of the ocean and realizing just how small you are, and yet it was up to you whether you tried to swim or succumbed to the waves instead.

Sometimes he ached for the person he had left behind. Julian. Bard. Friend. Lover.

He had grown more protective of his heart. Didn’t wear it on his sleeve anymore, careful not to leave it exposed lest someone took another piece of it.

 Someone.

A long time ago, he had thought his heart safe with him. He hadn’t expected to never get it back.

Jaskier sighed, relishing the feeling of the water on his skin. But his feet were starting to get cold and Jaskier knew that it was time to return back home, have some tea, and make breakfast before getting started with the day.

He quickly found his boots and took one last look at the sea before heading back.

It was blissful, no sound to be heard apart from the waves breaking against the shore and a few seagulls screaming high above him.

As he walked back uphill, he started humming a soft melody. It felt foreign, like flexing a muscle that had stayed rigid for far too long. It wasn’t any of his usual songs, instead a random continuation of notes that weren’t meant to sound particularly beautiful.

He was simply having fun.

He could already see his cabin in the distance, and the smoke that was rising from its chimney.

A frown appeared on his face. He knew that he hadn’t started a fire before he left, and his neighbours, even though they had the key, had no reason to be at his place.

He sped up his steps and almost ran the last few meters, coming to a halt right before his front door. Standing next to it was a horse, peacefully nibbling away at his flowers.

Jaskier’s chest felt tight as he grabbed the door handle and pushed it open in one fluid motion.

Inside, there was a man waiting for him. White hair was cascading down his shoulders and his yellow eyes were sparkling in the sunlight.

His heart dropped.

“Jaskier. Can we talk?”

tagging @natilieal @herostag @luteandsword @clarebear66​ and @writeroutoftime​ ✨

[samstree]

Rules: show your lock screen, last song listened to, last pic saved on your phone.

Thank you @bloodbuzz-smartypants for tagging me! <3

Credit to the superbat artist here.

Tagging: @wren-of-the-woods @witcher-and-his-bard @horsedadgeralt @yeraskier and whoever wants to do it consider yourself tagged ;)

[richiecrispie]

i got tagged by the wonderful @chalkstardust (❤️) to go to my camera roll and post 9 photos that describe myself. this was one of hardest things to do because i don't really know who i am tbh.

i really don't know who tag. but i'll go with @fancykraken @quidditchchick @gaytaiga @bloodbuzz-smartypants @gckoseth sorry if you didn't want to be tagged.

[tonofstupidness]

buckybarnesis replied to your post “I usually don’t comment on movies I’ve seen recently but this one was...”

sounds bad :/ I didn't even like /that/ much the first one, so now that you say it's so awful I'm not getting anywhere near it :D

bloodbuzz-smartypants replied to your post “I usually don’t comment on movies I’ve seen recently but this one was...”

I liked the 1st one a lot, for its different style and all. It was a nice surprise. I'm going to watch this one too but I'm kinda dreading it since so many reviews have been so bad :/

I hope I wasn’t too harsh, you should definitely arrive at your own decision after seeing the movie (especially since I’m just a Humble Opinion, lol). I do want people to have some harmless fun with a movie, but I was either in a wrong mood or the movie just did all those things wrong. I wish filmmakers would learn that “more” is not necessarily “better” when it comes to sequels.

[chaostrick]

send this to 10 other bloggers that you think are wonderful. keep the positivity spreading and make others feel beautiful! (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ ✨

you’re the wonderful one