#geralt (better mood now) asks him why he is not getting involved.

[hanzajesthanza]

god we need to bring crackfic back. or just short and idiotic ideas that wouldn’t happen but would be funny to read

[smolalienbee]

Birdwatching, or: How Lost Birds Flock Together (chapter 1)

The Witcher (Netflix) // Detroit: Become Human AU (Witcher characters placed in DBH universe) // rated T (Teen And Up) // 5.6k/???

When Yennefer quit the Oxenfurt Police Department, she swore to herself never to get involved with another android case - that is, until an old mentor comes knocking at her office door. Suddenly, she finds herself with an android in her care and a new job - to identify and neutralize the Sandpiper.

But how does one go about finding a myth? Worst of all, there’s much more at stake than just her paycheck. The deviants’ existence is at risk and then there’s also… the girl.

read the 1st chapter in full on AO3

“Yennefer. It’s been a while.”

“Tissaia.”

Even now, it’s an instinct for Yennefer to stand up at the sight of her old… boss? Mentor? Surrogate mother? She’s never been able to find the right words to describe fully just what Tissaia is to her. Tissaia is simply… Tissaia.

“You’ve settled in well in your new office, I see.”

Tissaia paces around the room, slowly, and Yennefer tries to keep an eye on her - but it’s difficult not to let her gaze flicker to the only other figure that’s in the office. It’s an android, modeled to look like a man in his late 30s or 40s, with white hair tied back into a bun and striking yellow eyes. It’s also unnerving in how it stands by the door, unblinking and completely still. Yennefer forces her attention back to Tissaia.

“Why are you here?” she asks, ignoring the comment. She’s not in the mood for small talk, not with her, not after everything that’s happened. It’s been months - months, since Yennefer has left the force and started her own investigative practice; months, since Tissaia has been scouted by CyberLife.

Tissaia sighs. Her eyes linger on the only window in the room and then she turns towards Yennefer.

“I have a job for you.”

“You or CyberLife?”

“Both.”

Yennefer laughs. She falls back into the chair, though she keeps her head held high. Why Tissaia thinks she’d be willing to work with them is beyond her.

“You’re aware that’s not going to happen.”

Tissaia doesn’t respond immediately. All she does is shake her head and then wave a hand, gesturing for the android to come closer. It does - because of course it does; because it’s been programmed to take all orders, never questioning, never independent. It’s frightening, how much she sees a younger version of herself in it - the version of her that was much younger and searching for someone that’d notice her.

“This is WR160,” Tissaia points at the android, now standing at her side. “It is the most advanced model CyberLife has produced so far. It comes equipped with a full field forensics kit and state of the art analysis software. It’s a tool that CyberLife has kindly offered to entrust you with for the purpose of this job.”

She pats the android’s shoulder. The android continues not to move. He’s attractive, but Yennefer knows that most people would find him off-putting; creepy. He doesn’t exude the artificial friendliness that most other androids do.

“Its name is Geralt.”

“Get to the point, Tissaia,” Yennefer says, refusing to acknowledge the android even after she’s already spent an excessive amount of time just looking at him. “What’s the job?”

“To identify and neutralize the Sandpiper.”

Of course. The myth, the legend.

“Neutralize. Funny way to put it. Have you forgotten I don’t work for the police anymore?”

“That is exactly the reason why I’ve come to you, Yennefer.” Tissaia approaches and each of her steps is so carefully measured. Yennefer, desperate to keep both her composure and poise, especially in front of her old mentor, straightens up. “The OPD has been trying to locate the Sandpiper for… months, but their work simply does not bring any satisfactory results. So, I’ve managed to convince the board that I know someone better for the job.”

“Me.”

Tissaia nods. Yennefer doesn’t know whether to laugh or scream.

“You must be joking,” she says instead, calmly.

“Yennefer, I know what really happened to Ciri.”

Hearing the name, Yennefer freezes. She tries not to show it, but just the mention of it causes a pit to open inside her stomach and with it comes the rage - that rage - which has always simmered deep down inside her. She digs her fingernails into the desk, like a bird’s claws, not caring when one of the extensions cracks under the force. Her next words come out dangerously low.

“Do not bring her into this.”

Tissaia, well-accustomed with the depth of Yennefer’s emotion, leans in closer. Her expression softens and it only serves to anger Yennefer further.

“If you want to protect that girl, you will take this job.”

The next few moments are filled with charged silence. Yennefer doesn’t break eye contact with Tissaia, even as she feels the android’s - Geralt’s - gaze boring into her.

She thinks about the little girl she had saved, months ago - the same one she’s been looking for ever since then.

She thinks about what would happen to her if CyberLife found the Sandpiper before she does. And then, she makes her decision.

She doesn’t have to say anything. She breaks eye contact knowing that Tissaia already is aware of her choice - that the moment she had walked into her office, she knew Yennefer would agree. That it’s, ultimately, a job she can’t say no to.

Sensing Yennefer’s surrender, Tissaia leans back. She moves towards the door, walking past Geralt on the way there.

“Why are you doing this, Tissaia?” Yennefer stops her at the last moment.

Tissaia lifts her hand to the doorknob and considers her next words carefully. “Because I know you have so much left to give,” she says finally, glancing over her shoulder at Yennefer. “Because we can’t let this chaos continue on.” She pulls the door open. “I’ve already sent you all the details. Find the Sandpiper, Yennefer. If not for CyberLife… then do it for me.”

She leaves then, without saying another word. Yennefer feels a desperate urge to break something.

read the 1st chapter in full on AO3

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern AU) - Petals to Ink

Yennefer and Geralt aren't always all that great at communicating. Jaskier would even go as far as to say that they just downright sucked at it. It was frustrating watching two people who were so in love have such a hard time communicating. The sheer number of misunderstandings that occured between them made Jaskier want to take them and knock their heads togehter.

How could they struggle so much to get their thoughts and feeling across to eachother? Every other day, it seemed like they were fussing about some misunderstanding or other. Jaskier marveled at how two so well educated and intelligent people could, at the same time, be so f***ing thick.

When Yennefer lost her Chaos, it seemed as if she just shut down, and shut out everyone. Jaskier tried to fix things for them in the beginning, unable to stand watching how much they were hurting, and completely mucked things up. He tried not to take it personally when they both lashed out at him. But it hurt. It felt like the Mountain Divorce all over again.

He tried to fix it, to apologize and offer support, but it only made things worse. He just couldn't seem to do anything right! He backed off, giving his friends some space, and turned to his music to cope with his feelings.

Madeleine knew there was a personal hurt involved when she saw the lyrics to what would become Blossoms. She didn't ask, knowing that Jaskier would talk to her about it when he was ready. She gave him his space and after he sat down with her and told her what was going on, she suggested a sound and rythm that would let him strum and belt out his hurt, and helped work out the lyrics to leave him feeling a little more encouraged by the end.

After a few days of practicing Blossoms before recording, Jaskier was in a better mood, and was ready to give helping his friends another go. He went back and spent a few days just being a silent, supportive presence.

He listened to Geralt fret over Yennefer while they sat in Roach and drank. Heard the note of helplessness in his grunts and 'hmm's, the hint of fear. He didn't know what to do. Didn't know what to say. How was he supposed to help her? What could he do to show her he loved her and wanted to help? How could he show her he was there for her? How could he pull her back from the dark place she was falling into? Jaskier suggested that maybe using words other than 'hmm' might help. This was met with a familiar annoyed glower.

He listened to Yen as she cried all her fear and hopelessness into his chest while he cuddled her in his room. She felt bereft, angry, afraid. What was she supposed to do? She'd given up everything! And for what? She had nothing now! No one understood how she felt! She couldn't protect her family like this. She was useless! Why did she always ruin things? Jaskier did his best to comfort her and remind her that she wasn't alone in her struggles. She might not have her Chaos for the moment, but she still had him and Geralt.

Jaskier listened to Geralt and Yennefer as they talked to him over the next week. He watched them interact, if he could call it that. They barely spoke to each other. What they mostly did was awkwardly ignore eachother, then when the one of them wasn't looking, stare at the other with a look of such intense pining and longing.

Jaskier despaired. Morons! Imbeciles! A Himbo and his Bimbo. Possibly the two dumbest people alive. They were idiots! F***ing dumba**es! But they were his f***ing dumba**es. They didn't have a snowball's chance in h*ll if left to their own devices, so Jaskier took all the mental notes he'd made of their interactions. Took all the things they couldn't seem to say, all their worries for each other, all their fears, all their love, and wrote Ruin, and Inkpot Gods.

Jaskier dragged his two idiots to the studio when the songs had been recorded. Geralt and Yennefer expected to sit down and listen to the finished recordings, but Jaskier and Madeleine instead insisted on a live performance.

Ruin had broken them. Yennefer ended up crying silently on Geralt, who had held her tightly like he was never going to let her go again.

And where Ruin had broken them, Inkpot Gods had healed them.

It had been everything that they had been feeling, everything they'd been thinking. Everything they'd been unable say. And somehow, this empathetic, sweet little b**tard had so perfectly put it all into words.

F**k how he could put so much raw emotion into his voice!

F**k how he could lay their hearts bare like that, make them face their pain, say what they couldn't put in words, make them remember how much they loved each other, make them feel, and then so gently put their broken hearts back together!

Jaskier and Madeleline stepped out when they were done, giving Geralt and Yennefer some privacy while they clung to each other and sobbed on the couch. It had taken months and two songs to remind them that they weren't alone, that they were loved, and that they could get through this.

When they shut the door behind them, Madeleine and Jaskier looked at each other and huffed in unison "F***ing dumba**es!"

[jaskiersvalley]

Hey i thought of a prompt! Maybe some mpreg at kear morhen with more wolfy witchers. No preference on parings (dealers choice). But yeah like fun times, conception, and then just really excited puppy witchers running around after their round mates and just being adorable in general <3

This prompt has been on my mind since you sent it. I’ve been trying to figure out a fun way to fill the prompt that doesn’t feel too much like Crest of the Wave. I think I might have it. As you said, pairings were dealer’s choice so...how about one big everyone is poly group?

Winters used to be quite strained, often maudlin as the surviving Wolf Witchers got together and reminisced. There was not a lot of good to think back to from their years, the conversation often ended up as stories of long dead witchers they missed or chatter about their various scars and how they got them. Not exactly uplifting topics. That all changed with Jaskier. First, Geralt just brought stories with him, happier memories more riddled with shenanigans than bitterness and rejection. It definitely helped shift the balance of the conversation and Vesemir appreciated that. Then Jaskier himself turned up for winter.

There was a very decided move from the heavy sadness to sex. So much sex. Vesemir had given up trying to air the keep out and started walking as loudly as he possibly could so his wayward pups could at least pretend to have some kind of decency. There were only so many times Vesemir could walk into the hall, kitchen, dining hall, courtyard or stable and see a bare arse or someone bent in half. Because even if Jaskier wasn’t involved, the others seem to have been invigorated by his presence. Still, even that was preferable to the misery that was pre-Jaskier. Only now could Vesemir see just how unhappy everyone had been and he didn’t want to go back to that state at any cost.

As much as Jaskier improved the mood of winters, he could take it all away too. Vesemir noticed the decline in happiness. It wasn’t an overnight thing but, over the months, Jaskier seemed to pull away. He started wrapping up in more clothes, claiming to be cold. The smell of sex lessened, ebbing away until it was a distant memory.

“Is it because he’s put weight on?” Lambert asked one evening when Jaskier had retired to bed, claiming to be tired.

“He should know we don’t mind. I think he looks cute with the extra weight,” Eskel chipped in and Geralt grunted in agreement. The three of them looked quite miserable once more, unable to figure out what they had done wrong to deserve Jaskier’s sudden distance. It didn’t ease over the coming weeks. If anything, Jaskier withdrew even more, declining to join in with any training. His scent changed too, turning sweeter and reminded Vesemir of the goats in the spring. That was when it all clicked into place. Well shit.

Approaching Jaskier was a delicate matter and Vesemir brought a mug of fruit tea in offering and a silent apology in advance of the conversation they were going to have.

“Do you want to tell me? Or should I tell you I figured it out?” He asked as he sat in the armchair by the fire while Jaskier was burrowed under a pile of blankets and starting to sweat. His dedication to hiding the truth was admirable but quite foolish. When there was no response, Vesemir pushed. “You can’t hide for a whole 9 months. Going down The Killer is bad enough without trying to hide a belly swollen with a child.”

Slowly, eyes big and fearful, Jaskier emerged from the pile, swaddled in one of Eskel’s shirts. They were the biggest and so easiest to hide in. Hands twisted in the hem, Jaskier watched Vesemir.

“What would you have me do instead?”

“Stay here. The others will likely want to remain by your side too, maybe going out for brief stints one at a time but always coming back to you.” Vesemir didn’t mention that there were three less than subtle eaves droppers by the door. “I won’t question how it happened or why. This is the hand Destiny has dealt and we live with it. May I see?”

Jaskier was turned with his side to the door, focus on Vesemir. He didn’t notice as the door got pushed open a crack and three pairs of eyes peered in. Instead, Jaskier inhaled deeply and nodded, pulling the hem of his shirt up. It didn’t look too different to usual, maybe a little rounder but it could be called puppy fat.

“That’s if I really pull my stomach in. This is how it usually is.” With a sharp exhale he let his muscles relax and the belly became more prominent, unmistakable for anything other than the growing of new life.

“Fuck.” The curse was from Lambert and Jaskier’s head snapped up, backing away from the door as his borrowed shirt dropped down. With the secret up, the three Witchers bundled into the room, all looking a little stunned.

“Are you really-?” Eskel couldn’t even bring himself to say it.

“Is it ours?” One of Geralt’s hands was reaching for Jaskier, stopping just shy of him and waiting for permission.

Offended, Jaskier grabbed the wrist and put it against his stomach. “Of course it’s yours. Who else’s would it be? Do you expect me to go out and breed with a forktail when you’re asleep?”

Watching his pups gather around Jaskier, Vesemir smiled. It was going to work out okay in the end. He’d have his family not just home but also expanding. That thought filled him with joy. Even better, he got to watch his pups dote on Jaskier. Anything he wanted, one of the pups was off at a run to get it. From heat packs to drinks to snacks, Jaskier just had to sigh and there were hands offering to massage his muscles. It was all quite funny right up until the moment Vesemir realised he was cooking for the fifth night in a row something that would make Jaskier happy. And he’d been preparing snacks with Jaskier in mind. And knitting a baby blanket as a secret surprise. Maybe, just maybe, he was ecstatic about the birth of his grandchild just as much as his pups. The expression ‘the apple never falls far from the tree’ suddenly felt a lot more relevant. Not that Vesemir minded. He turned back to the cauldron and hummed an all too familiar song under his breath.

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

now on ao3

In all the years they've travelled together, the only person they've ever come across on the road is Yennefer, much to Jaskier's immense displeasure. And then proceeded to run into her suspiciously often. Geralt puts it down to a wish or some such nonsense, but Jaskier doesn't care why so long as he doesn't have to spend any more time with her than he has to.

So when he hears Geralt talking to someone as he makes his way back to camp, his heart sinks immediately, expecting it to be Yennefer. But when Geralt makes it up to the campfire, there are two people with him, neither of whom are Yen. There are a taller blond man and a slim woman with bright eyes, neither of whom Jaskier recognizes.

"Jaskier," Geralt grunts, "we have company."

Thank you, Jaskier thinks, I can see that. He doesn't roll his eyes, but only because he doesn't want to make a bad impression on their guests.

"How wonderful!" he says, turning and crossing the camp to greet them.

The woman - Gwendolyn - introduces them, explaining that her partner Dominic once fought alongside Geralt to rid their village of a swarm of kikimores. Jaskier raises his eyes at the Witcher, but Geralt ignores him. There's a golden story in there somewhere and Jaskier makes it his job to learn it in full - if not from Geralt, maybe from Gwen.

Gwen is also a bard and Jaskier instantly adores her. She seems less interested in the fighting and adventures that Dominic goes on than Jaskier is with Geralt, but they find common ground in their music. And it's nice to have someone who really appreciates what is one of the most important things in Jaskier's life.

Geralt invites them to travel with them, much to Jaskier's surprise and Gwen and Dominic set their tent up next to Geralt's. Jaskier is looking forward to having company, even just for a few days. It's not often he has anyone to talk to other than Geralt and if he's learned anything in their time together, it's that Witchers don't make particularly good conversational companions. So he's glad to have the company, but as the night wears on, Jaskier's happiness dwindles.

Gwen and Dominic are so happy together, constantly touching and laughing and sharing their joint stories of life on the road. They're happy together and very much in love and Jaskier's heart aches wondering if he'll ever share that feeling with someone. He glances over at Geralt where he's prodding at the fire and smiles sadly. Even after all their years together, he can't be with the one he truly loves and seeing friends of Geralt's so happy together hurts in a way he didn't expect.

He's never wanted that one special person in his life; he likes being with different people each night, but he also can't imagine not coming back to Geralt at the end of the day. Geralt is his constant in an unpredictable world, but Jaskier still finds himself wanting more. Even if he shouldn't. Geralt has never made any indication that he'd even be interested in something more and yet Jaskier aches for it.

He curls in on himself when they sleep that night, keeping his distance from Geralt in the small tent and tries to forcibly ignore the empty feeling in his chest. When they wake in the morning, the four of them set out again, travelling at a steady pace.

Gwen joins Jaskier at the back, chatting away happily about the ballad she's working on and Jaskier's spirits rise again. They talk throughout the day as they walk and she asks about Geralt and their time together. Jaskier tells her a little, but leaves out certain details, not willing to face those feelings in the bright light of day.

When they stop for the evening, Jaskier pulls out his lute and plays for them while Geralt gets the tent set up. Dominic and Gwen join him and after a while, Geralt comes and sits next to him, much to Jaskier's surprise. He shares his wine and Jaskier drinks more than he should, overcompensating for the persistent ache in his chest.

Jaskier plays his best songs and Gwen sings along with more of them than Jaskier would expect her to know. He's pleased to know his words reach so far across the continent and it encourages him to sing louder, more enthusiastically. Geralt gives him a look, quirking an eyebrow at him, but Jaskier just winks in response and continues. Geralt may not appreciate him, but their new friends do.

It's not until the fire burns low that the ache returns. Gwen is sprawled in her lover's lap, grinning up at him and Jaskier has never seen someone look so in love. He's pleasantly drunk, toeing the line between a light buzz and too much. When Gwen and Dominic turn in for the night, scurrying away to their tent hand-in-hand, Jaskier excuses himself and slips away into the darkness. He’s not quite ready for bed, but he’s not up to sitting alone with Geralt right now, either.

The moon is full and bright, lighting the field adjacent to their camp and Jaskier strolls through the long grass. He wants what Gwen and Dominic have. He wants to feel that overwhelming adoration and have it reciprocated - even just for a little while. Love comes and goes, but he wants to know how it feels to have someone love him so completely. His romances have been fleeting or have taken place over years with their encounters few and far between; the only person he's been with for longer than a few weeks is Geralt. But Geralt is far from his true love - if there even is one true love for him.

But Geralt is different and Jaskier knows he will always hold a special place in his heart above the rest. Even if their relationship never becomes anything more than it is, Geralt will always be different. But the thought of continuing as they are sits heavy on Jaskier's heart. For the first time since he can remember, he feels alone, unwanted. And he knows it's not Geralt's fault for not wanting him, but he can't help being miserable anyway.

Footsteps approach from behind and he turns to find the Witcher coming up behind him. His hair shines in the moonlight and Jaskier lowers his eyes, smiling sadly.

"Come to bed, Jaskier. We have an early start tomorrow."

"Alright."

Jaskier offers up a smile and follows after him as usual, forcing down the desire to reach out and press up against him.

In the morning, Geralt is missing, but both Gwen and Dominic are sitting outside when Jaskier crawls out of his tent. He keeps his spirits up as well as he can, eating breakfast with their companions and passing his low mood off as sleepiness. When Geralt returns, he seems quieter than usual, but Jaskier suspects it's because this is the third day with travelling companions and Geralt is used to it just being the two of them.

They make it to town that day and Geralt takes on a contract for a ghoul that's been terrorizing the town at night. It means they'll be in town overnight at least and Jaskier books them a room at the inn and settles in while Geralt discusses his terms with the mayor.

Geralt leaves in the late afternoon and takes Dominic with him. Jaskier and Gwen stay behind at the inn, neither one less confused than the other. Jaskier doesn't say anything about it, but he finds himself worrying about what could possibly have spurred Geralt to take a companion to fulfil a contract. He rarely even lets Jaskier go when he promises to sit to one side and not get involved. Jaskier orders them a round of drinks and pushes the thoughts from his mind.

"So tell me about Geralt," Gwen beams, leaning across the table. She stretches her hands out, looking up at him expectantly. He knows what she wants to know, but Jaskier has nothing to offer.

Jaskier tells her everything he can. He recounts their travels together and sings Geralt's praises, talking of his achievements and all the lovely songs Jaskier's written because of him. Gwen just looks at him and he knows none of this is what she wants to hear.

"I've heard your songs," she says, "I want to know about him."

"I think you've got the wrong idea."

"I don't think I do," Gwen says softly. "I see the way you look at him when you don't think anyone is watching. The way you look like you could be happy to spend the rest of your life following blindly after him."

Jaskier opens his mouth to interrupt, but he's silenced with a single look. "Okay," he breathes.

"I also see the way he looks at you," she says, "like he's afraid you're going to walk out of his life one day and he'll never see you again."

"It's not like that. Geralt is my best friend and my muse and I don't know what I would do without him, but it's certainly not mutual. I'm giving him a better name, that's all. It's why he keeps me around." The words keep coming, but Jaskier's heart thuds heavily against his ribcage and he doesn't think he'll be able to stop speaking if Gwen doesn't interrupt him.

"Geralt is..." he falters, trying to come up with something to say and Gwen looks at him with such earnestness that he can't lie to her. "He's beautiful," he admits, "and he's so much kinder than anyone knows and if he wanted to settle down, he'd make a wonderful husband, but-"

"It's not like that?" she asks and Jaskier just offers her a sad smile.

When Geralt and Dominic return, both parties go their separate ways. Dominic and Gwen are moving on, but Jaskier has already rented a room and Geralt is tired and worn out by the time he returns. They say their goodbyes at the door to the inn and Jaskier watches as they saunter away hand-in-hand.

When they turn in, Geralt falls asleep nearly instantly. Fighting really takes a lot out of him and Jaskier pulls a blanket over him, smiling down as Geralt grumbles and rolls over in his sleep. Jaskier sits on the floor, leaning against the bed. He doesn't want to climb into bed with him because Geralt wakes easily and he needs his sleep. And Jaskier doesn't expect to sleep much tonight anyway.

He can't stop thinking about what Gwen said to him. Surely Geralt doesn't really look at him when he's not paying attention. And if he does, it's only to wish him silent.

They head out in the morning, but they don't get far before a storm breaks out. Roach spooks easily at the thunderclaps and Geralt herds them all under the shelter of the trees. They find a stone overhang that's just tall enough for them to crouch under and Geralt ties Roach to a tree a few feet from the entrance and sits with her until she calms.

Jaskier watches from his spot undercover, a small smile creeping onto his face. Geralt really is so soft and gentle and no one ever sees it. No one but him. He pushes himself up to keep from staring and collects as much dry wood as he can find for the fire, stacking it into a neat pile. He's no good at lighting them, but he can get it ready for Geralt to come back.

When he does, Jaskier smiles up at him from his spot against the wall. Geralt takes a seat next to him, quickly forming the sign to light the fire and Jaskier swallows back the spark of arousal that always accompanies Geralt using magic.

"It was nice to have company," he says simply and Geralt hums.

"I think I prefer when it's just the two of us."

Jaskier's heart leaps but he tries not to think too much about it. He smiles up at Geralt and slumps against the wall. Maybe it would be nice to be showered with affection all the time, but when he looks at Geralt, he can't imagine trading him for anything. He watches as Geralt pokes at the fire and realizes no amount of love and affection makes up for what he has now. They might not be together and Jaskier never expects things to change between them, but he loves Geralt for the emotionally unavailable idiot that he is.

They lay their bedrolls out and Geralt stops Jaskier as he moves further toward the back of the shelter. "It's a cold night," he says, "you should move closer."

"To the fire?"

"Hmm."

Jaskier looks up and Geralt is staring down at the ground. The thought that Geralt might want to keep him close bounces around Jaskier's head and he lays his bedroll between Geralt's and the fire. When he lies down, he still feels cold, but Geralt slips up behind him and Jaskier can feel the heat of his body against him. It makes his breath catch in his throat and he shuts his eyes, pressing back into him. He doesn't open his eyes because he can't bear to.

"If you want to leave, I won't ask you to stay," Geralt says quietly and Jaskier freezes.

"What?"

"The way you looked at Gwen and Dominic... you're a lover Jaskier, you can't spend your life chasing after an old Witcher."

"And if I want to?" he asks. His heart thuds loudly and he can barely think over it. Geralt stirs next to him and when Jaskier opens his eyes, Geralt is above him, looking down.

Jaskier reaches up, sliding a hand over Geralt's cheek. He can barely breathe with the fear of saying the wrong thing and when he opens his mouth, he almost forgets what he wanted to say.

"My darling Witcher," he breathes, "where else could I possibly want to be?"

"But you want more," Geralt says and if Jaskier didn't know better, he'd say he looks sad.

"Not if it means leaving you," Jaskier breathes. And he means it. He wouldn't give up Geralt for anything.

Geralt doesn't say anything and Jaskier doesn't know how long he can last hanging in this silence where he doesn't know what to say and Geralt looks like he wants to kiss him. He can't think, he can barely breathe in the silence, but he reaches up, sliding his arms around the back of Geralt's neck and sliding his fingers into his hair. He waits for a moment, giving Geralt the chance to pull away. He doesn't and Jaskier draws him closer.

"Don't do this just for me," he whispers and Geralt barely gives him a chance to finish before closing the space between them. His lips are soft but hesitant and Jaskier brings him closer, shows him he has nothing to be nervous about. When Geralt draws back, he looks almost sheepish.

"I'm not. I know I'm not good at things like this," he mumbles and Jaskier lets his hands slide to Geralt's face. He shakes his head and draws him close again.

"You're perfect."

[witcherislovewitcherislife]

Rereading The Last Wish: The Witcher

I'm in a huge Witcher mood right now so I have decided to reread the books for the first time in years!! Starting with The Last Wish. I'm going to try and give my thoughts on each of the short stories as well.

First up, from The Last Wish: The Witcher (read on 12/20/2021)

Perhaps it's easier because I've already seen Geralt visualized on screen numerous ways but I think Sapkowski does a great job immediately showing the audience who Geralt is. He is instantly in conflict with locals of Wyzim for no reason other than existing and asking questions to an innkeep. It is clear that he is not trusted and is feared for his appearance and for being different.

After getting in a brawl and using Axii to fool the guards he is taken to the Castellan of Wyzim who regals Geralt with the tale about Princess Adda which is why Geralt came to this town in the first place. I really like how the Castellan isn't really scared of Geralt which is a recurring theme throughout the series. Peasants fear him but higher class people like government officials typically don't. It sets up an interesting contrast early on.

I also love how Geralt isn't intimidated by the story at all and doesn't even hint to care about the possibility of Adda's marriage should the curse be lifted. He is here for the 3000 oren reward and nothing else. Velerad mentions other witchers that have came and went instead of trying to lift the curse but Geralt doesn't shy away. It shows either his confidence in his abilities or his desperation for coin.

The conversations between Geralt and Foltest are a real standout in this story too. Foltest clearly has respect for Geralt and seems to deeply appreciate the fact that Geralt is willing to risk his life to break the striga's curse. I would have loved to have seen his reaction after Geralt lifts the curse but alas.

And then the actual battle with the striga. So great!! All the little things Geralt does to vary his attack and defeat her without killing her were so interesting. We get to really see how intelligent Geralt is. I had also forgot how Aard was originally described in the books. In the Netflix show and the games it is always a large single blow of wind but in the book it can be used as a more continuous attack, similar to an extremely powerful fan.

Geralt is able to defeat the striga without killing her, lifting the curse in the process. This was such an excellent story. Disconnected from a lot of the future tales but a great introduction to the world and our favorite Witcher!

Rating: 10/10

Sidenote, I'd also like to mention the Netflix adaption of this story. I think they did a damn great job overall. Adding Triss was a nice touch to introduce her and they kept it mostly the same although the conversations in the book were much better and the story involved more characters which I would have liked to see on screen. Velerad was excellent in every scene he was apart of and I would have loved to see him portrayed. But the battle specifically was really well done, so many exact moments from the book came to life on screen.

[seb-owns-these-tatas]

Witcher of the Night (Chapter 13)

THIS IS MODERN ERA READER WHO WOKE UP IN THE DIMENSION OF THE WITCHER.

CHAPTER 12

WITCHER OF THE NIGHT MASTERLIST

Characters: Geralt of Rivia x small!Naive!Reader

Summary: Your existence in their world had reasons. A purpose that involves the contentment that Geralt never found in the world that he was in. The feelings you have for your witcher makes you feel things that you haven’t experienced yet, desires that make you feel sorts of things as it also was a cause of the Cicatrix that laid in between your chest. The question is, were you on the same page as Geralt is? or was it just a misunderstanding prior to that night?

Warnings: Soft and smiley Geralt! (*rolls on the ground*), Sexual Implications, a needy reader, an annoying bard, MODERN references, mention of Divergent, grumpy Geralt, a soft-touchy-feely reader. FLOOFY chapter! Insecure reader tho. 😭 Harry potter and Lord of the Rings references. HAHA!

Words: 8.5k (Well, Hello long ass chapter)

A/N: THERE’S STILL CHAPTER 13.1 BEFORE THE SMUT. AHE. Sorry for the delay. Happy mother’s day to all the mothers out there! Y’all are the best and real superheroes! If this chapter didn’t make you smile, then this means I am a failure for everyone! 😂💖

TAGLIST IS STILL OPEN FOR THIS ONE! Heehee! Don’t forget to REBLOG, COMMENT OR GIVE FEEDBACK IF YOU DID LOVE THIS CHAPTER! IT’LL MAKE ME SMILE!

Disclaimer: PNG’s used in edits are not mine even the GIF’s too. However, the edits and oneshots are definitely from moi. Characters, places and said monsters aren’t from moi as well. GIF’s INCLUDED ARE CREDITED TO THOSE WHO MADE THEM! I DO NOT OWN THEM!

MY WORKS ARE NOT NOT NOT NOT NOOOOOOT TO BE POSTED ON ANY OTHER WEBSITES. My official username in Wattpad is “TATATHEPOTATO” and that’s the only other site I have for writing aside from Tumblr. Thank you, Tater tots!

KISSING GERALT HAS BEEN SUCH A DREAM. The kiss felt like you were in seventh heaven and it also kept your mind wide awake the whole night; even with Geralt by your side with his lulling monster stories and those gentle fingers raking your hair like how he always does.

The gesture even made you a little more giddy than ever and Geralt didn't seem to mind as you've kept yourself wide awake; watching him sleep and never keeping him out of sight.

Though, he'd eventually covered those coy eyes of yours because it was bothering him; coaxing you to stop staring and just have your beauty slumber because you needed all the energy for your training.

A training that you thought would be for Cirilla because they've always had their swordplay fights before the sun rises and sometimes in the middle of a beautiful morning; as you watch Geralt in discreet as he wields his sword like how the waves move in the ocean. Very satisfying to ogle and observe.

The way he handles a sword was perfectly smooth and bland like how your coffee tastes in the morning.

Which is why your face was scrunched in peculiarity when he was done with Cirilla's training; giving the smaller silver sword to you with that reticent expression on his face; his habitual tight-lips now relaxed as he eyed you back with that tender gaze he holds whenever you were there.

An image you weren't used to; but may seem to wish it would be there forever because of how soft he appeared for you to see, not his usual brooding and serious persona.

"This is a very nice first date," you sarcastically muttered; wanting to scoff and whine from how unusual it was to receive training from the witcher like you were some sort of Tris Prior in the world of Divergents.

After the kiss last night, you've expected him to give you flowers, gifts, kisses or maybe more of his attention. Howbeit, you'd remember that you weren't in your world and that he wasn't a typical man who'd woo women like that. Geralt was probably a man whom women has been trying to court just to have his attention based on how beautiful and captivating he was.

Were you his beloved now? A girlfriend? his lover? you actually had no idea and chose to stay silent. Never asking anything more as to not ruin his good mood as he woke up in the morning.

Geralt didn't specifically told you anything about being his beloved. The only thing you understood in his words last night was that you were important to him and that he also cared.

Perhaps, he doesn't roll that way. The witcher wasn't particularly that type of man.

Therefore, you left it at that although it was dithering your heart. You were contented whether how ill-defined your position was in his heart.

"Why am I doing this again, Geralt?"

The latter silently watched you fidget with the sword on your hands, your cheeks puffed from how strange you thought his favors may be. He couldn't help but give you a beam that showed his teeth, his emotions thoroughly in a bliss after the night he confessed; parts of his aggression lifting up his chest, "The bard knows how to fight with his dagger," he adhered strictly to the fact, keeping the sword safely on his side.

Those lips of yours jutted in an opposing pout; your eyes seeming to connect with his spellbinding ones while he continued to wheedle, his cat-eyes curving into a soft shape of a crescent and you were totally enamored. Your heart skipping a beat when he was never breaking his gaze away; giving your stomach the heebie-jeebies, "---Cirilla is finally learning the techniques of using a sword,"

Your mouth was now turned into a tight-lipped one, shaking your head from the idea he wanted as you scrunched your nose further, "And I am better watching you and Cirilla have your little sword play fight," pause. "---I'm not going to fight anyone,"

You've continuously shook your head, tutting at the brilliant idea he'd tried to think of. Though, Geralt was adamant for his preposition; seeming to think the idea won't get you stabbing him accidentally or better yet, yourself.

"We can't be certain that there wouldn't be," he proclaimed, utterly determined.

You huffed out a frustrated breath, face falling right in the middle of the meadow as Geralt stood before you. His comely stature shining against the morning light and you were sure you've been blinded, "Right. Bad people are chasing you still,"

A bashful look has been unintentionally given to the witcher, lighting up an amused crooked smile and hum from the latter as he stayed completely taciturn, admiring the shy woman that stood before him.

You've suddenly felt him shift, turning your focus back at the Herculean, white haired Legolas as he'd languidly took a step back, looking calm and composed as he firmly ordered. His smile falling, turning all ruminative.

"Hit me."

More complaints were sent for what he requested, finding the whole ordeal somehow lamented because all you ever held was a pen, paper or laptops that certainly doesn't deal with people shedding blood unless you stab a pen at them. Sure, you've dreamt of fighting in combat in fantasy series or movies; but in your imagination, you were skilled. The version of yourself that you had in your dreams had talent and the one you have today only had idiotical abilities to plot your own demise because of how foolish you were in their world.

"Can't I fight with Jaskier?"

Geralt cocked his head to the side; in utter amusement as a small smile carved his pretty, luscious lips that grabbed all your attention. The witcher immediately noticed and had a smug glint in his amber eyes as he talked, "If you wish to annoy people and woo the king then he is excellent at it," pause. "---You wouldn't learn how to use a real sword from the bard. Unless, using a lute as a form of weapon in the middle of a royal banquet is your choice of fighting then Jaskier would do a great job,"

Thus, from the moment Geralt has made his utterance, Jaskier somehow had the luckiest time on planning to feed Roach as he emerged from the doorway, ceasing himself from sending a teasing ridicule as his name has been called in vain; backstabbing him by finding entertainment from how he tried shielding himself from the incident back in the years.

"I've never received any compliments from you don't you, witcher?" he hollered back, enclosing his mouth with a hand as he called from afar; a bucket full of Roach's food on the other.

Jaskier seen Geralt shake his head, a surprising beam drawing his face as the witcher playfully wisecracked out loud, "You don't need them, Jaskier."

The harmless banter made Jaskier pucker his lips in surprise, never anticipating how he'd gradually changed from being the brooding, reserved witcher to the grinning, active man he was seeing as he was teaching a woman who had no inspiration on learning the techniques of sword fighting.

Geralt simply turned his head to see you awkwardly holding onto the base of Cirilla's sword; having a gawky, hunched stance and the witcher took heed of it but chose not to correct it yet. You were dubious of even holding a sword and also a lot more hesitant as you've tried to strike a blow at his face. Without effort, he'd simply dodged the attack with one hand using minimal strength. The swords instantaneously crashing against each other with a satisfying ring of metals colliding.

Unfortunately, the weapon flew out of your hands as he'd dodged your strike, shamefully falling on the ground with a soft thud. Geralt snapped his eyes at the sword that fell from your hands before feeling his eyes turn to you, "Midget." he calmly scolded, having at least a massive amount of patience for you, "---Take it easy." you'd heard him advice. Baritone timbre soft but still rough which stirred that familiar warmth pooling just below your stomach; heart beat stumping upon your chest because of how you were worried it would obscenely pool in between your thighs. Just the thought of Geralt's presence kindled with the fire raging your insides.

You've never had felt any such strong desire for a man other than the witcher himself and it was beginning to grow frightening because of how you wanted him so bad; the kiss you had probably triggering something inside of you that didn't know it existed.

Maybe, it was probably horny hours like how you had them back in your apartment. The problem here was that you finally had a man to do it with, but you weren't sure if he also desired for you the same way as you do.

What if he only wanted you for companionship? Perhaps, he'll somehow find you boring like how your dates went back in earth when the time comes?

You didn't notice Geralt has grabbed onto the sword that flew right out of your hands, sauntering towards where you were and his presence lingering a little too close for those kindling flames aggravating that desire you had when his voice vibrated from behind.

"Also, try harder."

Despite of how enormously tall and brawny he was, the witcher leaned down to grab onto your hand, his rough fingers caressing yours that was sparking up the flames as it felt so gentle. He placed the handle of the sword onto your palm, delicately dragging the other to hold onto the base. Those calloused palms of his enclosing yours in a warm embrace as his warmth from behind seemed to turn more quenchless as time goes by, a sudden hunger flooding your system as your body turned putty with just a simple touch.

You've felt your throat run dry, stance turning standoffish when he'd loomed behind you. Heavily aware of his presence. Your voice cracking and stuttering as you mindlessly thought out loud, trying to wash the vulgar thoughts away, "I--I--I am! It's just that you've given me a real sword for practice!"

Geralt reiterated; utterly droning, "It's lighter than mine," with a simple raise of his brow as he stood behind you, his face inches close and you could feel his stare completely immense, making you look away from how flushed your face have been, "Even so! It can hurt anyone! Can't I learn witchcraft instead? I’ll be the potato version of Hermione Granger! It’s impossible that your world has no Voldemort! Expecto Patronum! Avada Kedavra!"

The preposition was hurriedly rejected with just Geralt's smile turning upside down; replaced with a scowl that coaxed you to turn your head to see him shaking his head with his face approximately close to yours; those amber eyes trying to melt your heart as he still had that vivid, affectionate dewdrop clustering in those peepers that provoked a satisfied sigh out of your ajar mouth.

His pitch suddenly turned austere; mouth tight-lipped as he quoted, "You will not use any ounce of sorcery from my world," you've seen the side of his lip turn into a smirk as he haughtily added, "---Alas, you are also too clumsy and impulsive for it,"

Geralt grudgingly moved his face an inch away; not before seeing a sight of him taking glimpses of your ajar lips as you awaited to be kissed by the witcher himself; howbeit, he chose to tease and ignored the accented feelings he had been trying to hide since the first day.

The latter surprisingly gave a chortle, his chuckle sounding heavenly amongst the birds chirping in the background, "How dare you?!"

He gave your hands consolatory pats as it was already surrounding the base of the sword. Geralt straightened his back, his thumbs casually giving the back of your hand a soft caress before taking heed of your silent squealing from his seraphic touches, "Hold the sword with your dominant hand, midget." before he took a step back away and muttering a mocking repartee, "---Maybe a Hirikka will be a better combatant than you,"

You've watched him waltzed back to where he was as he stood in front of you with a grin on his face, "I shouldn't have accepted your apology last night." you deadpanned with your eyebrows furrowed from how riled up and entirely flustered you were feeling early in the morning.

The witcher tipped his head with his smug grin, "You didn't. I just knew you would because you never get to have your nap without receiving cuddles and chill from me,"

You've feigned a gasp, unclasping your hold around the sword as you placed your palms around your hip, giving him a sassy posture of how you were appalling by the truth that he suddenly was giving; thoroughly surprised by his sudden pesky, frolic attitude he seemed to vibe. He was learning from your modern references and it shocked you even more.

"It was cold last night!"

"The night is also dark," He ridiculed and mocked what you've said to him last night while he was asking for forgiveness. His teeth slipped against the cardinal pillows of his lips, giving you a gorgeous toothy grin that made your breath hitch as if his aesthetics radiated off the sun light, "---You needed my warmth, midget."

A playful glare was sent to the witcher; intentionally keeping up with his mockeries as you gave a chuff and found his mischief rather entertaining because he rarely acts the way he is right now, "Are you a furnace? No. You aren't, Geralt of Rivia. Don't act like raking those fingers of yours through my hair doesn't help you sleep at night---"

"But, I'm your furnace amidst the benumbing night."

You couldn't help but giggle from his innocuous pick up line, utterly finding it amusing and endearing when you've understood it way differently despite of how ingenuous he wanted it to sound.

Their era and how they communicate was certainly giving you a good ol' laugh.

"Are you calling yourself hot?"

Geralt couldn't help but outstare; gawking from the dazzling laugh you've mindlessly given him. He was oblivious of his beguiling beams he has been making you see and the gaze that bewitched the morose of his spirit, puzzling how a mere person could take away the misery that has been haunting him since the moment his mother has left him alone to become a witcher in their world and a lot more great affliction he'd somehow experienced.

Presumably, your existence in their world had reasons.

Hence, the witcher knew it involved his happiness.

"Now, keep your stance firm," he snapped out of his daydream, gently tapping the tip of his sword on your thigh which erupted a squeak and a tiny whine from you, "---I can't always be with you when you are attacked by anyone who wants my family dead,"

You tilted your head to the side, cheekily wiggling your eyebrows as you grinned up at him like a Cheshire cat as he shook his head from your playfulness, "Did you just lowkey tell me that you treat me as family?"

"Would you want it to be that way then?"

Another failed attempt of giving a successful, strong blow has been swung towards the latter, easily stepping one foot back as he blocked the smite with one hand. Though, you hadn't let the sword fly out of your hands this time which Geralt considered as slight improvement for being taught in the first day.

"Hmm. Again." he'd given an entranced hum, giving a tight lipped smile as he affirmed and tried to wriggle out more strength from you because it was pretty much a reluctant strike as well.

You've straightened your back, keeping your feet loosely away from each other as you sighed an exasperated one. The sword falling on your side as you wanted a truce. Feckless of the pout you were giving to the witcher who was too persistent in giving your body an ache from the training. Geralt raised a brow, seeming to enjoy your whining and allegations from the moment he'd given you a sword.

"Stop puckering your lips like that. I'm not giving you a buss when you're acting like a chit,"

A buss. It sounded pretty much familiar as it was used in those romance books you've read back in earth. His straightforwardness tickling your spine in a delicious way that got you flustered for the tenth time this day. You know your eyebrows rose up till your hairline from how he was assuming things that were actually the truth, "Did that mean a kiss?! I--I wasn't asking for a kiss though!"

"Then, acting adorable won't let you get away from this."

You've groaned out loud; fighting yourself off from stomping your foot out in utter vexation from how he'd always seem to knew what you were thinking. Were you that obvious?

"I hate you,"

Geralt took a stroll towards you, thoroughly leaning down to your height with a cross of his prodigious arms; the sword still in his fist and watching how he'd closely stared into your eyes as he fought off a smile, "The hate is quite indistinct and difficult to tell after you've been kissed last night,"

Your heart wanted to burst from the embarrassment, feeling your face turning into flames. Just add a little bit of oil and people could probably fry anything they wanted to as they use your face as a pan.

Reprehension would have escaped your lips if a hand hasn't clutched onto the side of your neck, his hot breath assaulting your face before you've felt his lips on yours in a hot second; never giving you time to process everything as he broke the buss with a sweet, tinge sound that seemed more soundly in your ears rather than swords colliding in a battle.

His hand behind your nape left in haste, straightening his back and shoulders; acting like he hadn't done anything wrong nor he continued to act like he didn't even give you a small, plain peck to the lips that gave a startle and somehow positioned you into a blissful, heart exploding condition.

"You don't dislike me, midget." Geralt's expressions were indescribable. His features stoic for five seconds before seeing his lips turning into a gloaty smirk as he spun in his heels, leaving you dumbstruck from the surprise.

"G-GERALT! That's not fair!" you stood rooted on the ground, keeping your lips together as you smacked it out loud like you couldn't believe he'd given you another kiss to ruin your ovaries and focus.

He strolled along the meadow, his emotions flying elsewhere as he was entirely finding your reactions hilarious. Geralt walked the path back to where he stood before, turning around in face-front to see your face all red and giving him the stink-eye, "Nothing is ever fair. Now, use all your strength to hit me with your sword."

You tightly grabbed onto your sword with both hands, listening to how he'd told you it should be held and also thoroughly remembering the basics that he told you prior; keeping your stance better than the one you held a while ago, watching how his face lit up as yours turned serious and challenging, "Oh, I will! You're a cocky witcher today and it's annoying!"

Jaskier have fed Roach back in the stable, he walked back to the doorway to see Cirilla leaning her back on the stone walls, arms crossed with a smile that tells how amused she was as she watched how you were trying to strike a successful blow at the witcher who found your lack of knowledge utterly astonishing and endearing; regardless of how he has been fond of having lovers which were strongly independent and knew how to stay alive in a battle.

You were a paradox to his life. Utterly questionable as to why you have even arrived.

"He's not teaching her how to fight," Cirilla admitted towards the bard who subtly nodded beside her, also watching the quote training unquote that you had with the white wolf. Yet, both of them could see how his way of teaching seemed to be less harsh than how they've been taught. Totally aware of how he was also buoyant rather than serious and brooding.

It was like a different Geralt that loom before them as he tutted and shook his head to cease your reckless attempts of trying to hit him with the sword; grabbing onto your fingers to cease you as he explained with a relaxed face he'd given while all you could do was glare and huff back.

Jaskier gave a small smile, eyes narrowed from how the sunshine hits his face and mindlessly tapped the handle of the bucket with his index finger, "The witcher is flirting with the rat, probably want some bonking,"

The lion cub of Cintra gave him a once over, "Some what, bard?"

"Forget what I said,"

Cirilla brushed him off as she went on with her lurking, Something you said ignited a grin out of the witcher as he quietly listened to your rants and rambles about how annoying he have been, "Also, this is the first time I'd seen Geralt smiling like that again. I hope she doesn't leave. I'll do everything for her not to leave,"

The bard gave a nod of understanding. Deeply thinking as to why Cirilla would do everything in her willpower for you not to leave; hence, seeing the smile that Geralt has given you was a simple answer as to why you needed more protecting and a lot more time to stay. Would it be selfish of them when you probably had a family back in your world?

Thus, Jaskier's gaze lingered on you and saw how you giggled back at the witcher who has said something that made him scowl. The mere sight of you strumming along the rakish onslaught of his heart strings from the week that Geralt wasn't around bothered him but he chose the better of it and ignored.

"But, isn't it strange?---" he momentarily ceased, snapping his gaze away from you as Cirilla gave him a nasty lour for whatever thoughts he wanted to say out loud, "---That your step-mother would be pretty much smaller than you?"

The child loudly groaned in response, turning her back away from him as she pulled the doors to go in, "You are honestly the most irritating person in the continent,"

The day has been pretty much a blur. After being trained by the witcher no matter how many failed attempts you tried; his patience utterly high for you to even comprehend that he had a lofty tolerance for your inability to successfully strike a sword.

Your arms were somehow sore, considering the amount of attempts that Geralt has been repeatedly telling you to just hit him with all your might, yet being active in the battlefield will never be your forte. He tried giving you hope, downright telling you that it was normal and everyone improves sooner or later as long as your training had consistency.

You've been a bitchy-pants after the training. All catty and stopping yourself from sending a t-bird for the bard who received a snide remark and decided to send irritating teases that you were just being sexually frustrated.

Simply to say, Jaskier knew you were having your horny hours. That time of the day or that day of the week.

How'd he know? you had no idea. It was probably only his guesses as to why you were acting bitchy towards everyone except Kolby and Cirilla. You were being bitchy towards the men of the house especially at Geralt who has given you body soreness.

If only it was a different type of ache, you would probably not be bitchy.

A heavy sigh left your lips as you sat your back along the walls of the hallway, the only place where you've found peace because walking in the first floor even got you vexed because Jaskier seem to find your irritation amusing and had been running his mouth about how it was fine to just give in to your fantasies especially that the witcher probably had wanted it as well since the first day.

You were contemplating whether or not to turn on your cellphone; remembering how it was only at seventy-five percent. You've stared on your phone that rested on your hands, spinning it around as you were trying to fight off the kept fervor that has been insatiable and a bother when Geralt has given you one touch.

The feelings and emotions have been skyrocketing, it was already there even just from the start of your morning. However, after going home from the Djinn troubles, it started doubling and began to grow bestial like a monster wanted to come out of your chest from how you badly needed the witcher.

It just wasn't normal.

Geralt was entirely aware of your vexation. Though, he was meters apart from you and was actually outside to take care of Roach. Inside his chest, he felt an ounce of disturbance with the help of your irritations and frustrations; the sensations coming back again and the witcher still had no idea why.

He knew where you were and decided to find you. Finding a midget hunched in the middle of the hallways with her brows tightly furrowed, a worried pout on her face and blown cheeks as you fidgeted with your phone.

Geralt fought the urge of smirking and just sauntered to where you were, his heart beat beating in blissful thumps that got him wondering how it was even possible in just the sight of you.

You've felt his presence looming before your stooping form, a stink eye was given to the witcher who crouched in front of you, his burning gaze solely on you as he cocked his head to the side, observing your face and the state you were in with a smile growing on his face.

"You're annoyed." he artlessly admitted, never risking to leave your sight.

You scoffed, shaking your head as you felt the burning desire grow even further, turning away to help your poor little heart from feeling more bothered than it ever intended to, "How'd you know, Legolas?"

The nasally mention of that nickname you had for him got Geralt frowning. His forehead creased to the extent that he seemed to be thinking rather too deeply as to who this Legolas was and why were you even calling him that.

"---and now you're the one annoyed,"

Geralt kept his lips in a tight firm line. Amber peepers shining in dissatisfaction.

You brushed off his noncommittal reaction; already used to his lethargic norms as you complained about his infuriating friend, "It's Jaskier! He's annoying me since this morning!"

He just continued to give you a listless look, giving a displeased hum as he wholeheartedly let you rant to him.

Then, you added, "---Just his breathing irks me!" which only a hum was the only word you've received again, "Hmm."

You've irritatingly grunted, giving him a glout as you also kvetched, "Stop the humming! You're annoying me as well! You've been annoying me too since this morning!"

Your cavils has stirred a defeated sigh from the latter. His sudden actions obviously had reasons as to why you were abruptly being trained with a weapon. If only he hadn't brought you with them in the marketplace and haven't run into Tybalt then gallants weren't supposed to be searching for you by fair means or foul.

"What did I do this time?" he lowly grumbled, utterly dead beat. A faint, crooked smile raising those lips of his. You've held onto your phone a little more tighter, feeble arms crossed in front of your chest as he simply gave you his attention that you somehow yearn a lot, "You and Jaskier can stay in one room together while I sleep in yours! Men are so annoying! Always have been!"

Geralt's features appeared to be of someone who was suddenly bothered at the understanding of your statement, his listening comprehension twisting whatever it is that you've said as he skeptically appalled, "You have been with other men?"

Your face twisted in a tight cringe, bewildered by his presumptions that sounded like he was telling that you had a lot of men back in the days or basically his words were telling you that he couldn't believe that you actually had a man before. You've given him at least ten seconds of you just giving him a displeased flicker of your eyes before the white haired witcher proceeded with his remarks.

"Also, are you threatening me in my own home? You're kicking me out of my own chambers?"

An innocent nod was given to Geralt. The witcher simply gave an enervated blink, hearing a serious growl buzzed out of his chest; scrutinizing for whatever your eyes held out to him. The intensified gaze of his peepers searing that says he needed your sincere answers.

"This...Legolas you have been calling me," pause. "--- Do I remind you of your previous lover?"

You waited for more additional questions or perhaps a moment where he could tell you that he was just joking around. However, the intimidating, gargantuan monster-slayer who was crouched before you; never said that he was just giving out any jocularity of his previous light-hearted demeanor as he was all brooding again.

He fervently stared you down, making you shift on the floor as you looked up into his eyes; mirth surrounding the windows to your soul when he didn't budge after you've given him an guileless beam, "Yeah. Pfft. Earth also has their own witcher slash elves---What? Oh my God, this is funny."

Geralt is all wordless and silent; awaiting for whatever explanations you could give him and you couldn't help but ask in a skeptical manner; bizarrely gasping for his seriousness.

"Wait, you're actually---stop giving me a scowl! I never had...one? He's a Lord of the Rings character and I swear to God, he is fictional---Not real! Though, he looks like you because the hair and such---but---" you've jumped from one thought to another, feeling the scrutiny under his gaze and obviously nervous that he appeared to look like he would grab his sword and look for the man to behead him. Though, it will never happen due that Legolas was entirely fictitious to even start.

You ceased yourself from trying to explain the background story of Legolas for Geralt. Your nerves getting the best of you whenever you were being interrogated. An exhale of breath escaped your lips as you took a good look at the grimacing witcher before witlessly reaching onto his face with your palms on either side of his chiseled face as you gave him your best doe-eyes, sweetly trying not to coo at how his brooding demeanor actually makes him look fetching nevertheless.

"Stop being mad at me," you buttered his silence up with a tender tone of yours and the way he scrunched his nose and appeared to be looking bizarre tells you that your sweet-talking was cringe-worthy because of how you probably never knew how to simmer a man's troubled day.

Or he was just not used to gentleness.

You've retracted your hands away from Geralt's face and tried your best in avoiding those questioning and bemused eyes of his as you abruptly stood on your feet, shamefully rubbing your nape as you had yourself wincing from the second hand embarrassment of treating Geralt like he was some soft baby, reminding yourself to never do it again, "I am embarrassing myself,"

At the time you've stood up, Geralt also has been on one's feet. He didn't mean to look at you weirdly as you've cupped his face with that tender gaze inside your eyes. When the moment your delicate fingers brushed his, he felt as if he was in utopia. The man wasn't just used to intimate touches especially your caresses that felt like Gossamer.

Geralt just wasn't used to people treating him like he was actually human instead of someone who deserved to be treated differently.

Only Renfri, Yennefer and you had this effect on him. Though, with yours seemed to be much stronger.

Your panicking state urged you to flee from his presence, but the witcher wasn't going to let you go that easily as he'd caught your wrist; gently pulling you as your back hit the wall. Both hands and fingers scooping your neck like a baby chicken he'd caught and decided to take care of as his his warm touch skimmed till his thumbs brushed against your jaw, carefully urging you to peer up into those amiable gazes he successfully tries to give.

"I'm not mad." he dearly reassured, his small smile bringing your heart into euphoria because he was much more beautiful this way; smiling as if the world hasn't condemned him with an ill-fate of being a witcher.

Your beams were difficult to fight off; immediately giving him a smile as he also did as well. Chiefly, only giving you the sight of his crinkled eyes. His thumbs tenderly caressing your jaw which coaxed you to calm down from being fidgety which was totally a good medicine because your nervous jitters actually ceased with just his gentle touches.

You've grabbed onto his hand, memorizing his soft features as it was ever been a rare sight. Never believing he was acting the way he right now towards you. Your fingers brushing against his hands like a feather tickling the witcher's sanity.

Before another utter cockblocker slash disturbance came trudging up the staircase and somehow found you both in an heartfelt position; with Geralt cradling your face like no other.

"Oh! Ughm, this is a rare sight." Jaskier ceased his steps, midway through the hall, the bard's growing grin seeming to give you jitters as his ridicule began, "---and the small rat has been sexually frustrated, Geralt!"

You just wanted to strangle him sometimes.

"Cot damn it, Jaskier! SHUT UP!" you exclaimed, totally flustered as Geralt dropped his hands to the side; looking between you and Jaskier in ponder; those eyes of his full of curiosity, "You're...?"

"I AM NOT FEELING SMUTTY!"

If only you could dig and cover yourself up from the embarrassment, you would.

"---Smutty."

"You get my point, Geralt! I know you do!"

Geralt had his forehead in a tight wrinkle, thoroughly thinking what you meant; though, he understood none because the word seem to be peculiar, "Midget."

Jaskier exhaled an exasperated breath, dramatically rolling his eyes as he waved you both off and curved right pass between the both of you, entering his chambers to grab onto some clothes because he wanted to bathe.

The bard pointed a finger as he walked off, his hips swaying as he does so and never looking back, "She needs some nightly penetrating! You're welcome, witcher!"

Geralt watched Jaskier leave, an amused pucker of his lips was the answer to your questions that he certainly understood everything now and cocked his head to the side, peering you down as he awaited for an explanation. Yet, all he saw was you covering your blushing face with a guilty, forced smile as you washed your face in frustration to give him your regretful eyes.

"Don't listen to him," you quoted and begged for him to just take the bait.

Nevertheless, you've seen him raise a hand; about to start talking about being one horny woman for him when you've stopped him midway and tried to shift the topic away, "Anyways, I forgive you, Geralt. Now, can I braid your hair?"

The witcher closed his ajar mouth, humming in wonder as he dropped his hand to the side; narrowing his gaze at you, "I wasn't asking for any of your forgiveness."

You've blinked back at him, jutting your lips together as you looked away, tone teasing and slightly threatening, "You sure that's your final answer? No regrets?"

Geralt roughly puffed out a breath, muttering profanities beneath his chest, "Fuck." and another grunt because he'd remember how he still wasn't forgiven by yelling at you for last night, "---Fine. Do I have a choice?"

Your smile turned into a knavish grin, wanting him to regret why he even agreed to whatever plans you have for him as you bluntly answered.

"No."

The one you had in mind, planning for a simple diversion for Geralt to erase the horrid truth that Jaskier has told out loud for him to hear was actually another rabbit hole that had caught your feet, catching you going far down the pit like you have been scammed. Clearly, because Geralt's unwitting deep groans and hums has made you hot and bothered every time you've tried combing his hair along his snowy locks.

You were wincing every time he has his nose flaring whenever your fingers thread along his hair, the knots giving his head a rough yank from how you were trying to untangle those knots.

Geralt sat on the floor; his arms on either side of the bed. With you who sat on the bed and your legs criss-cross behind his impressive, thewy back; tempted to just give him a big hug because he seemed so comforting but chose not to based on how grouchy he became once you've combed his hair with your fingers.

You didn't even know if he was irritated or somehow liking the whole situation because he was deeply growling, groaning and eventually having to hear a slip of guttural, restrained whimpers that caught your ears. Enlivening that cravings and curiosity you had for some human touch.

"Midget..." he grumbled another complain and lowly warned, hearing the baritone growl he'd ought for you to hear which made you ignore his protests as you had your own protestations as well, "Stop complaining. Also, don't you own a comb? Your hair---It's---Oh! I'm sorry! Can you please stop growling and moaning at the same time!"

His head was minimally pulled back because of your reckless combing. Your nose scrunched even more as you'd received another menacing hum that tells he was close to hitting your face with a pillow because of how rough you were taking care of his hair. It's not that you weren't rough, but the locks in his hair was frustrating you to the highest.

"Hmm."

You subtly leaned down, sneaking your head to the side of his face to see his expressions void of emotions. The typical Geralt whom you've met as he felt your presence nearer, he'd turned his head to give you a lackadaisical look in his eyes that tells that you were stressing him out.

Your eyes twinkled apologetically as you had no problem in receiving a glare from the fussed out witcher. "Well, that sounds like a displeased hum," you stated as a matter of fact, shrugging your shoulders before straightening your spine and grabbing onto his Ivory roots again, "---and a different kind as well,"

He sighed in defeated, letting you handle his hair in spite as he simply closed his eyes. There was no more backing out as he was now sat in front of you, hair all untied as you've threatened to cut his hair with a scissor you've managed to have that was sat beside you.

"Bad kitty! You're liking this, aren't you? You like your hair being pulled!"

No answer was received and you left it at that. Thinking that maybe he wanted silence as you went on with brushing his hair with your fingers. Now, all gentle as the tangles were already free from the knots. It was certainly improvement; in Geralt's side because he stopped complaining after you scolded him so and quietly waited for you to finish; showing like he trusted you with his hair or whatever.

With a gentle tuck of his hair behind his ears, the witcher was all putty on your hands. Hearing a low rumble that resonated off him in pleasure and satisfaction because of how your touch was sending torment to the cravings he had for you.

Hence, his patience and respect he had for not throwing you over the bed and just relishing in with those insatiable desires he had for you needed and deserved an applause because of his high-capacity to resist the mania.

His appetite was surely in a famished mayhem as he breathed in slow and deep, your gentle touches that raked through his roots and his cravings growing more and more uncontrollable with each passing day and night.

Maybe, the scar you had on your chest had effects. Lewd effects for the both of you.

After minutes of comfortable---well, aching moments for Geralt; you've heard him mutter through gritted teeth in the midst of his slow breathing, "I'm not a cat."

You were already at the ends of his Ivory hair, simply braiding them in perfection as you objected, "But, you are! My grumpy kitty!"

There was no response again and you focused on braiding his marvelous hair and let the silence flow. You were actually just hearing him breath as it also calmed your nerves; a bewildering occurrence on how one's breathing could simply put you in peace.

You've grabbed onto his black ponytail which seemed to be owned by Cirilla and tightly tied onto the ends. Small hairs that seemed to not be possible in tying them down were imperfectly out of its nest; though, the ruggish effect it gave was actually making it look perfect for him.

"There! Done!" you mirthfully exclaimed, giving out a tiny tee-hee before you recklessly surrounded your arms around his musclebound shoulders. The irresistible urges just telling you to cease from being shy even just for today and be more of your unshackled self; stepping out of your timid borders every once in a while. It surprised the witcher with your touchy-feely attitude as his body went stiff when you've embraced him from behind, "See? I told you! You'll still look beautiful with your hair braided! Now, payment time, mister!"

His Adam's apple bobbed up and down, clicking his tongue as he tried to find any words to say from your hasty, sweet gestures while he was not one who is used to receiving such care. Geralt had no words to say, his mind going in a haywire as he suddenly saw your palms in front of his face, begging like a peasant with your face nuzzled to his side as he weirdly stared at your palm.

"You want coins?" he skeptically questioned, your warmth and scent crashing his ability to think straight. You've dropped your arm around his shoulders, your actions seeming to surprise you as well but you paid no heed and just wanted him closer; his warmth insatiable as you hugged Geralt tighter. Your warm touches giving his body to adjust and be used to it as you felt him slowly relaxing against your hold.

You peeked from the side of his face, giving him a twinkle of those vindicated eyes as he languidly turned his head to see you giving such a naive look that he couldn't help but be fond of everyday. If it would take his hair to be braided for you to sweetly look at him like how you do right now; he would take the risk on letting his hair get yanked, "I don't know. Whatever payment you have in mind---I would love it,"

Faces were inches apart. You've seen the way his eyes glow in sudden mischief. His risquè suggestion making your heart warm in a way that got your ravenousness fueled as your face felt the blush and sudden excitement, "The one I have in mind is quite unseemly for your chastity,"

You gave a giggle, always loving how he'd intensely stare into your eyes like you've given light to his darkness; that type of glow inside his eyes that got your insides churning whenever he does, "Aren't you playful and naughty today, Geralt?!"

Geralt gave a tight-lipped smile; knowing you wouldn't accept his ravenous suggestion because of particular things he knew about. The witcher knew he wasn't wrong, he can never be wrong by what he was sensing.

However, a rare smirk was promptly shown, the ingenuous flicker inside your eyes changing in just a snap of one's fingers as it turned suggestive and playful, "What if I actually want that?"

It was what your heart wants and what those voices inside your head has been whispering. The mere idea of Geralt defiling your chastity that you have been treasuring because no other men deserved was utterly thrilling and worth it.

Not because of the thought that he was striking, but he was the only man you've wholeheartedly trusted and probably have given your heart like he was a king no matter how unsure of what you were in his life.

Closer and closer, you went in for the kill. Just his golden peepers alone was enough to pull you into a hypnotizing trance as you closed the space between you both, landing your lips to his in a soft, birdsweet peck that got you insides melting and the desire rapidly coming back in scorching flames, "I thought you wanted to indulge my curiosity all night long?"

Your words were temptingly drawled slower as your warm breath hit those ajar lips of his, an impenetrable haze in his eyes that suddenly brought uncertainty to what Geralt actually meant the last time you had the bathroom moment, your sudden confidence kind of wavering but still you've wanted to see how he was fond of you the way you also had your affections for him, "When I told you I was curious, it’s true, Geralt."

You've brushed your lips together and felt the witcher sigh before you had given one last honeyed kiss to his lips in which Geralt had puckered back, raising your hopes that he was solicitous about you.

'More,' his consciousness and emotions echoed, kissing you back with the same tenderness you held for him. He seemed like he was about to deepen the kiss; breathing through his luscious lips before you've felt the pillowy vermillion brush against yours as he abruptly ceased, hearing him lowly growl as he kept the tip of his nose, touching yours in an eskimo kiss before slowly pulling away to your disappointment.

The hesitation of wanting to deepen the kiss shot a sting to your heart; your overthinking self reading his actions that you've misunderstood his feelings that it was downright doting because you were head over heels for him after quite sometime.

But, hearing his next words immediately brought a weight down your chest, feeling the ineptness, dismay and shame for even suggesting lechorous behaviors that made you feel shameful because you think that it was rejected; thinking he rejected you.

He bedded tons of women. So, what makes you different?

You probably just weren't worth it.

"You don't mean that," Geralt lowly grumbled, his robust shoulders moving from how deeply he was breathing; ceasing himself from doing anything more further as the witcher continued to dispassionately utter, "---I don't deserve it,"

You hardly ignored the shame trying to strangle you into feeling such tightness around your throat as you unlatched your arms around his shoulders, skeptically eyeing the witcher who avoided your eyes, "What do you mean you don't deserve it, Geralt? You do,"

Were you desperate? Was the irresistible sensations making you act this way? Maybe. Howbeit, you would never regret every little thing you do for Geralt because it was what your heart has been telling you to do and not just your impulsive decisions.

Yet, the more he'd talk; it felt like as if the only thing you would regret was asking him what he meant.

Geralt heavily swallowed, jaw tightening as he apathetically muttered, "I'm guessing it's the Djinn's work that is talking,"

His response to your question ignited such ferocity inside your heart, shooting straight to your mouth as you couldn't believe what you were hearing. Did you misunderstood everything he has said when you were important to him? Deeply thinking that him and you were actually in the same page when his gestures and words right now seem to be the opposite?

"Are you saying that what I feel about you isn't true?" you questioned in disbelief. The scoff automatically being done as you've seen the tight scowl that Geralt has managed to put up again, "---That it's all...magic? The thing happening between us?"

You've tightly bit the insides of your cheeks, watching him stay silent and cease from opening up to you as he went on in avoiding your gaze and looking like he was the one who'd been rejected when it was you.

Thus, a continuation of your vulnerability went on despite of his stillness, your honesty probably will rue once it was said and done, "---before the Djinn even happened, you've been clouding my mind since then," a breathless pause. "---Since the first day I've been here, it felt like I was bound to fall for you, Probably, because the reason why I'm here is because...you are also here,"

Your candor has gotten the best of you and when Geralt was about to open his mouth for whatever that he wanted to say, your anxiety has managed to take over as you stood up from the bed in haste, feeling your palms tickle in humility from how everything that has been planned went down the hill because you misunderstood everything.

"Midget---"

You tightly swallowed the tightness stuck in your throat, finally feeling his gaze on you but you chose to look away; eyes now downcast as your toes fidgeted inside your boots, voice cracking when the apprehension was starting to take a toll as it was harshly plucking with your heart strings, "It's fine. We're just probably not on the same page yet and I understand why. Who would want me even?"

Geralt has been ruffled by your sudden assumptions, yet he chose to stay silent and be upset by whatever lies he'd been hearing; only having the actions to grit his teeth together as you restlessly tried your best to steer clear of your own dismayed feelings.

You shuffled on your feet, briskly walking towards the door before giving him a faltering gaze of yours as you awkwardly pointed at his perfectly braided hair while you stammered and tried to get a hold of yourself from the mortifying, stinging shame, "It's probably just...the genie effects doing these effects on me---I'll go apologize to Jaskier or something---Don't take that off, okay?!"

Hence, Geralt could only watch you leave as it was obvious that he'd upset you by his complicated behavior. Thus, leaving his heart stinging as well; feeling the same way as you.

Y’ALL ARE PROLLY CURSING ME FOR MAKING AN ADDITIONAL CHAPTER 13.1 AHONHONHONHON XD (Strikethrough means I couldn’t tag you, buddy! Please do check your settings, bb! Thank you!)

Taglist: @alyxkbrl @himarisolace @barkingbullfrog @ayamenimthiriel @hellodevilslittlesister @vania-marie @spookypeachx​ @grungelovebug @fangirl-inthe-us @nympeth @amirahiddleston @gabethelobster @dreaming-about-starfleet @uncoolcloudyhead @melaninstylezz @psychosupernatural @missjenniferb @dance-dreamer​​ @marvelousell​​ @kingniazx​​ @angelias134​​ @tapismyforte​​ @chook007​​ @covid-donotenter​​ @winter-moons​ @cheesecakeisapie​​ @silverkitten547​​​ @angelofthorr​ @carrieannewaywardson, @plantingmum​​ @stuckupstucky​​

[mordoriscalling]

Stay or Sail Away (1/6)

Here comes part one the modern AU fake dating Geraskier fic that I talked about in this post. I’d like to post each part daily. Tagging @geraskier-trashh as requested! :D

***

It’s not that Jaskier has any problem finding someone, thank you very much. It’s just that he’s busy. Busy with concerts and composing, meeting fans at various events, travelling, internet dramas involving Valdo (it’s always fucking Valdo). There’s no time for a relationship, only for occasional one night stands that sometimes that leave him heartbroken because he actually manages to fall in love with someone in the span of a few hours. It’s fine, though. Heartbreak inspires him like little else.

Jaskier's never complained about lack of bed partners, when he seeks them out. He’s charming, after all. Still, the moment he hears “commitment”, he flees. It’s just not his way. Or perhaps he’s never found anyone fascinating enough to commit to; it takes a lot to keep his attention.  He wasn’t even looking for someone like that. Not until recently.

His troubles began a week ago, during a phone call with his mum. She reminded him of his father’s 65th birthday party and asked if he would bring anyone with him. This was followed by a series of questions about his love life because, as his mum put it, “you’re 35, Julian darling, and you’re always working so hard! I worry you’ll end up alone”. In order to placate her, Jaskier might’ve lied a little tiny bit about some things. As a result, because of all the twists and turns of the conversation, he made his mother believe he had a fiancé.

A fucking fiancé.

Wanda Pankratz was ecstatic, wishing to know everything about her son’s relationship, but he dodged all the further questions by saying that she would meet his love soon enough. She left it at that but, of course, told half the family about it, if the texts and calls from his sisters and aunts were anything to go by.

Hence, The Post.

It’s a bit pathetic and desperate, Jaskier can freely admit, but he has no other choice. His personal guard Zoltan almost pissed himself laughing when Jaskier asked him to pretend to be his fiancé, and not one of his friends knows anyone who would want to do this. Not even his agent Triss could help him out.

It all drove Jaskier to log on his anonymous Facebook account (he is a pretty big name in the UK; better be safe than sorry) and post in one of the big London groups.

“I need urgent help from someone who’d be willing to act as my fiancé during a family party on February the 24th. The only thing I expect is the ability to sing praises of our love and to compliment my aunts. It’ll take around 4 hours and then we end our relationship. Age from 35 to 40. It’d be great if you knew something about the sea because I intend to introduce you as a sailor who’s never home and afterwards, you die. Can anybody help?”

Since yesterday, the post has got more than a thousand reactions (mostly the laughing one and likes) and hundreds of comments. Many people tagged their friends as a joke, which is not helpful, but Jaskier still scrolls down and down, trying not to let his hope die. Nobody seems to think his request is for real and he’s received no serious offers so far. Then, one of the newest comment threads catches his attention.

Lambert Rivia:    Geralt Rivia Destiny!

                              Geralt Rivia Fuck off

                              Yennefer Vengeberg Omg 😂 Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Eskel Rivia you must see this!

                              Cirilla Vengeberg-Rivia Yesssss!! This is perfect! ❤️

                              Eskel Rvia Do it Geralt

                              Geralt Rivia No.

Intrigued, Jaskier decides to check out these people’s profiles. Lambert Rivia is a handsome red-haired man who wears some kind of black military suit in his profile picture. Looking at his bio, Jaskier already knows why Lambert didn’t volunteer himself – he’s in a relationship. Eskel Rivia is blond, even more handsome than Lambert despite facial scars, and also has a photo in a black suit, together with a white cap on his head. There’s no information on Eskel’s relationship status and Jaskier is intrigued indeed. Yennefer Vengeberg is a terrifyingly beautiful woman who, judging how professional her profile picture appears, must work in some serious profession. Cirilla Vengerberg-Rivia is a lovely teenage girl with white-blond hair. Jaskier reckons she’s the daughter of Yennefer and one of the Rivia guys.

He left the poor Geralt’s profile as the last to look at, but now that Jaskier has seen the rest, he checks this one too.

His jaw fucking drops.

Geralt Rivia is a ridiculously handsome man. His face seems practically unreal because, surely, people as beautiful as Geralt don’t actually exist? The man’s long white hair (which makes no sense considering his apparent age), as well as his brown-almost-golden eyes, only add to his otherwordly, stunning appearance. Double stunning in that black military suit he’s wearing in his profile picture, just like Lambert and Eskel. The suit looks familiar and Jaskier has a nagging feeling he really should know what kind of army it is. Google helps him out and he quickly puts two to two – Geralt, Eskel and Lambert serve for the Royal Navy.

He bursts out laughing.

This is too good.

He wonders what he should to about this. Now that he knows about Geralt’s existence, he can’t really miss the chance of meeting him, however slim. His gut feeling tells him not to let the opportunity slip and well, who is Jaskier not to listen?

When he’s in the middle of debating what to write to the man, his phone pings. There’s a new messenger notification... with Geralt’s name. With a racing heart, Jaskier opens the message.

FEB THE 18TH AT 06:14 PM Hey. Everyone’s telling me to message you and won’t leave me alone. Is your request for real? Please say no

Jaskier chuckles and replies:

Hi! I’m sorry they’re bothering you and I’m also sorry to say that my request is very much for real. I’d be forever grateful if you helped me 😁

To this, Geralt responds with:

They really won’t stop until I agree They think it’s so fucking funny

Jaskier purses his lips, already suspecting this isn’t likely to work out. He'll have to face his loving mum and admit that he lied to her about fucking having a fiancé. She’s going to be so disappointed. At the very prospect, bad mood overtakes him, but he still types what he hopes to be a cheerful answer.

Damn, so sorry mate I won’t push you but, again, I’d totally owe you one if you agree  ☺️

What would I get?

Jaskier tries to reason with his hope to calm the fuck down and replies:

Money, or a favour of some sort, I have many connections Could be free tickets to my concerts  Even my company for the night 😏 Just whatever you want I really need help

Fuck

For a minute or two, the three dots next to Geralt’s photo disappear, and Jaskier’s hope plummets in a  dramatic fashion. Then, more messages from Geralt show up in the chat.

Free tickets seem fine My daughter loves going to concerts She’d like free tickets but I never heard of you

Jaskier starts begging any god out there that Cirilla is Geralt’s daughter. Teenagers make up a large part of his audience (which is great, actually; teenage kids are amazing these days). If she’s a fan, the free tickets are a major bargaining chip.

Well, Julian AP isn’t my stage name I don’t use it on fb

What is it? Your stage name

I’d rather not say here And you must promise me you won’t tell anyone about it too Well, anyone but your daughter

Ok

 Can you call me? It’s better to talk about this on the phone anyway

Fine.

Jaskier sends Geralt his number and waits for the call. In other circumstances, he’d congratulate himself on getting a man like that to call him so easily, but he’s too anxious. His hands itch for his guitar but he doesn’t get up from his bed. He begins smoothing his hair out with his palms, praying in his mind that Geralt hasn’t changed his mind.

After the agonizing wait of six minutes, there’s an incoming call. Jaskier takes a deep breath and picks up.

“Hello,” says a gravelly baritone voice so pleasant that it sends shivers down Jaskier’s spine.

“Uhm, h-hi, Geralt,” he replies a bit breathlessly, “so, my name’s Julian Alfred Pankratz but I’m known to many as Jaskier.”

There’s a beat of silence. “Jaskier?” Geralt repeats, “the one who sings Her Sweet Kiss?”

Jaskier beams, his chest swelling with pride. “The very same.”

“Fuck,” Geralt growls, “Ciri wants to blast this song whenever we drive somewhere.”

Jaskier laughs. “She would love free tickets to my concerts, wouldn’t she?”

“Yeah.”

Geralt says no more. Jaskier has to swallow down to sop his throat from constricting. “So?” he asks, “Can you do this for me?”

The silence on the other side is deafening and Jaskier doesn’t even breathe until Geralt finally speaks up. “Fine,” he grunts, his tone indicating it’s anything but fine.

Air leaves Jaskier’s lungs in a whoosh, replaced by a flood of such sheer relief that he may as well cry. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!” he babbles, heady with joy, “Gosh, you’re my saviour!”

“Just don’t tell anyone about this,” Geralt grumbles.

“Not a soul, Geralt, not a soul.”

“Send me the details about when and where and let’s get this over w–”

“No, wait!” Jaskier cuts in, “My family’s very perceptive, they’ll know it’s a ruse. We should plan everything carefully.”

“You’re making me regret this,” Gerlt growls.

“I’m sorry!” Jaskier hastens to say. “Just... at least tell me a bit about yourself?”

Geralt lets out an irritated sigh. “I’m forty, serve for the Royal Navy with my brothers. Eskel’s the nice one and Lambert’s the prick. My ex-wife Yennefer works for the government.” Jaskier actually shudders at this one because he already can picture it. Yennefer seems exactly powerful like that. “We have a daughter,” Geralt goes on, his tone softening, “Ciri. She’s fourteen. We live in London but I’m away often.”

“Oh, lovely,” Jaskier says with a wide smile because, really, this man’s love for his daughter is so clear and endearing, “this is something we can start with.”

“Just make everything up about our relationship and send it to me. I’ll play along.”

“Thank you,” he breathes out, still amazed at his luck. Jaskier is almost high on the success of his ingenious scheme and his obligations are therefore non-existent, so nothing stops him from teasing Geralt. “Though, to be completely honest," he says cheekily, "you don’t strike me as the type to sing praises of our love and compliment my aunts.”

“Hmm,” Geralt replies. It doesn’t sound like a negation. “Yen says I’m not that bad if I try.”

The fondness with which he said Yennefer’s name is a cold bucket of water poured on his enthusiasm. “O-oh, ok,” he stutters out, thrown off-track, “So, uhm, would you be willing to try for me?”

For a moment, Geralt says nothing, then answers, “If you give Ciri an autograph.”

Jaskier laughs out loud. “Not a problem at all! Whatever she wants.” He pauses. “Whatever you want,” he adds more seriously.  

Geralt only hmms, in a way that Jaskier’s prone-to-romanticism mind would almost call warm. Silence falls between them but it doesn’t feel awkward somehow. “Have to go,” Geralt says.

“Okay,” Jaskier replies quietly, “Thank you again. I’ll text you, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

After Geralt hangs up, Jaskier huffs out a shaky breath. Deep down, he already knows.

This is going to mess him up.

TBC

Part 2

[jaskierswolf]

You Set My Heart Ablaze (17/25)

Previous ____________ The day after Geralt’s failed intervention the mood was strangely lighter in the fire station. The White Wolf still had a frown almost permanently plastered on his face but that was just Geralt. At least today he joined in with team’s banter and very occasionally, he actually deigned to smile at them.

Eskel had noticed that the printouts had disappeared from the break room so perhaps Geralt had perused them at his own leisure. The intervention was supposed to have been a joke. It had been designed to make Geralt laugh and maybe pull his head out of his ass but the joke had backfired and Geralt had flown into a fury and stormed from the room. He’d been pricklier than Lambert for the rest of the day and they’d barely seen him. He’d only come out of the office for jobs and to check on Eskel and Renfri after the horrific accident they’d had to attend.

Eskel shuddered at the memory.

It had been one of the worst he’d seen. Phones. If he ever had kids then he was going to make sure that they never had phones, at least until he was sure that they could be responsible.

He sighed.

It was such a waste of life.

A hand clapped on his back and he was startled from his thoughts. Geralt was watching him with a concerned expression. “You alright, wolf?”

Eskel patted Geralt’s hand on his shoulder and then turned to pull the silver-haired firefighter into a hug. Geralt seemed startled by the affection but wrapped his arms around Eskel’s back. It wasn’t a long hug but it did the trick. Eskel felt lighter for it and smiled gratefully at his friend.

“I’m alright.”

“The car accident?” Geralt asked with a tilt of his head.

Eskel nodded. “He was just so young.”

Geralt huffed in agreement. “Are you sure you’re ok to be here?”

Eskel laughed, it sounded strained even to his own ears. “Course. It’s just the job.”

Geralt frowned. “Take the afternoon off if you need it and take Renfri with you.”

Renfri had been cleaning the fire engine out meticulously all morning. She’d only taken a break to spar with Lambert out in the yard before she been called out to rescue some cat from a tree. Geralt had purposely sent her out on the less taxing jobs today.

“Thanks.” Eskel thumped Geralt on the back affectionately. “You seem better today?”

Geralt hummed nonchalantly.

“The intervention do some good after all?” Eskel asked cautiously.

Geralt’s eyes flashed angrily but he didn’t run off which was an improvement. “I don’t see how it’s anyone’s business.”

“We’re just worried about you.” Eskel admitted. “You haven’t been yourself recently. It was a stupid joke, thought it might make you laugh.”

Geralt hummed and rolled his eyes. “Who’s idea was it?”

Eskel felt his cheeks warm up slightly.

Well.

Wasn’t that a question?

The idea had come from Triss. They’d gone out for drinks after they had both finished work to try and brainstorm about how to help their friends. After a couple of glasses of wine Triss had groaned and leant into his side with a sigh and flippantly suggested that they should stage an intervention.

It had been a joke on her part but Eskel had thought it worth a shot.

The rest of the wolves had quickly come on board with the idea and the whole thing had really snowballed.

It had been a disaster but Triss had laughed when he’d told about it last night. She’d tried talking to Jaskier again the morning of the intervention but to no avail.

Eskel couldn’t work out why they were being so difficult? It was like they enjoyed being miserable.

Except.

Today was different?

Their printouts hadn’t been that great but maybe it been just enough.

“Lambert’s” Eskel lied with ease.

“Hmm. Thought as much.” Geralt rolled his eyes. “Had Lambert written all over it”

Eskel laughed. “Seemed to help though?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at him.

Eskel shrugged. “You’re less sad puppy and more… White Wolf?”

Geralt’s lips pulled up into a small smile. “Yeah.”

The conversation was cut off by the sound of the alarms blaring in the station. Geralt glanced up.

“Time to work.” He said firmly and they both broke into a run.

It was go time.

_______________________________

Eskel stank of smoke by the time he collapsed onto his sofa. His uniform would need to be washed that evening so he’d brought it home. He didn’t quite trust Lambert to make sure that his uniform went in with the others. It was currently stuffed into Eskel’s washing machine but he hadn’t had the energy to put the machine on. He desperately needed a shower too but it just wasn’t going to happen just yet. Lil’ Bleater was dancing around the living room, his hooves clattering on the hard floor as he chased around one of those wind up toys. Eskel rolled onto his side and watched the goat fondly.

Lil’ Bleater couldn’t seem to work out whether he liked the toy or was terrified of his. Every time he got to close to the thing he would bounce back with a sharp patter of hooves and headbutt the air.

As long as he didn’t try to eat the damned thing all would be fine.

He bleated loudly as the toy wound down to a stop. Eskel sighed and rolled off the sofa to wind up the toy. He scratched the goat between his horns and then laid down on the floor next to him. The goat all but forgot about the toy and decided to walk all over Eskel’s chest instead.

He winced as the little hooves dug into his chest but he knew the goat would settle eventually, he was affectionate little shit. Sometime Eskel wondered whether he was part cat.

His was absentmindedly stroking Lil’ Bleater’s fur when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He fumbled for his phone and peered at the notification. It was Triss. He quickly unlocked his phone to see the whole message.

T - Hows yours been today? x

Eskel smiled fondly at his phone and tapped out a reply.

E — Better. Yours?

He watched the dots float at bottom of the screen, patiently waiting for a response. Lil’ Bleater had other ideas and headbutted the phone from his hands.

“You bastard.” Eskel groaned. “I did not come home early just to be your personal cuddler.”

The goat bleated.

“Yes I know you’re very cute but I’m busy, buddy.” Eskel gave the goat another scratch before picking him up and shoving him back onto the floor. He scooped up his phone and flopped back onto the sofa.

T — Like a ray of sunshine. I thought you said the intervention didn’t work. x

Eskel frowned.

That was odd. He typed out half a reply and then deleted it.

E — You still at work?

He waited for Triss’s reply, staring intently at the phone.

T — Sadly.

Her message was followed by a series of crying emojis. She was still typing so Eskel held fire.

— You’re home? That’s early isn’t it? x

E — Rough day yesterday. Geralt sent me and Renfi home early to recover.

He sighed. He’d not mentioned the accident to Triss yesterday on the phone. She’d been wound up by work, it hadn’t been easy with the substitute teachers and parents ringing up constantly to complain about the whole situation. Triss had taken the brunt of that, fielding calls for their headmistress. She didn’t need his stress on top of all of that.

His phone surprised him by ringing in his hands. He grinned and swiped to answer.

“I thought you were at work?” He teased her gently.

Triss laughed on the other end of the line. “I’m taking a mandatory screen break. What happened?”

Eskel sighed and recounted his previous day, leaving out the worst parts and any names of the people involved but he wasn’t too worried. The crash had made the news so it wasn’t exactly like it wasn’t public knowledge.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Triss asked quietly.

Eskel huffed a tired laugh. “You had enough on your plate.”

“Nonsense.” Triss disputed. “You could have told me. It was good of Geralt to let you go today.”

“Yeah. He insisted. I don’t think either of us were in a good frame of mind today, could have been dangerous if we’d gone to a complex job.” Eskel admitted. “He did the right thing. Shrike kicked up a fuss though. Lambert grumbled about it too but Geralt called in a couple of cats to cover us.”

Triss laughed brightly. “It’s weird that your rotas are all named after animals.”

“Says the school with flowers for class names.” He shot back, joining in with her laughter.

“Touché.”

They fired quips back and forth for a few more minutes before Triss sighed and announced that she really should get back to work.

“Alright.” He nodded even though she couldn’t see him, puzzled by the disappointment in his own voice and his reluctance to end the call.

“But I was thinking of ordering takeaway tonight. Honestly I don’t have the energy to cook and I always order too much food. I could use the company.” Triss suggested.

Eskel grinned. “Sounds like a plan, Ms Merigold.”

“I’ll see you later then.” She answered brightly, Eskel could hear the smile in her voice and it warmed his heart.

“See you.” He agreed as she hung up.

_______________________

For the rest of the week Eskel had a spring in his step. Dinner with Triss had been a complete laugh and they were now texting on nearly a daily basis, and not even about their idiot friends anymore. He should really thank Geralt for all his moping.

He’d made a new friend out of it.

Perhaps even more than a friend but it was too early to tell. He liked spending time with Triss though. It was good to have a friend that he didn’t work with. He hadn’t realised how much time he spent talking to his goat before he’d met Triss.

She was kind and fun. There was a brilliant mischievous streak to her which he adored. She was clearly the source of all the good gossip in the school and loved regaling Eskel with the juiciest tales about the teachers. They cackled together at the misfortunes of others and were a shoulder to cry on for the tougher parts of the day.

He laughed. Who knew a chance meeting in a garden centre would have such a positive effect on his life?

The other wolves luckily hadn’t seemed to have noticed his change of heart just yet. Geralt and Jaskier’s saga was keeping their enquiring minds busy and he managed to slip under the radar with his new almost date.

Geralt’s mood had also remained brighter too. Eskel still couldn’t work out why. The man still refused to talk about Jaskier, and rarely brought up Ciri’s school life at all these days, a stark contrast to the beginning of the year.

It was almost as if Geralt had forgotten that the school and Jaskier existed.

Maybe he was getting over him after all.

It was a shame, the teacher was fun to hang out with. On their one trip to the pub they’d been on together he’d had an entertaining habit of serenading the nearest person or waxing poetry about who ever was in front of him. Eskel hoped they could still stay friends with the teacher without upsetting Geralt. He knew Lambert was particularly fond of him, especially now he’d gotten over his starstruck fangirling. They hadn’t seen Jaskier very often, mostly when they bumped into him in the local coffee shops, and not since whatever had happened with Geralt. Still he had been a breath of fresh air to the wolf pack. Their work was hard and emotionally draining at times and he’d brightened up their lives with his music, poetry and optimistic outlook.

He sighed as he pulled on his jacket. He was going out to the pub with Triss and a few of her colleagues. It had been the last day of term today and they all wanted to celebrate. Lambert and Renfri were joining him there. Triss had suggested that he bring the wolves along, more the merrier she said. Geralt was being a party pooper and staying at home to watch Ciri but Eskel supposed none of them could really judge him for that.

It was just strange, even after over nine months. Geralt had always been part of the team, he could hold his drink astoundingly well but get him on the vodka and he could be persuaded to do some karaoke. He also tended to get very philosophical whilst drunk which provided endless amusement for the wolf pack.

It just wasn’t the same without him.

It was only a short bus journey to the chosen location, and one he could easily walk back from later in the evening. He took a deep breath.

New people.

Most days he almost forgot about the scar that marked one side of his face and with his friends and family he no longer felt self-conscious. He knew they saw him, the man behind the scar. He didn’t give a fuck about strangers in the street, he was used to the stares at this point in his life. As a teenager he had tried to cover it up with make-up but the heavy stuff he’d needed to properly cover the deeply etched scar tissue was expensive and he’d slowly given it up, but these were Triss’s friends and people she cared about. He wanted them to like him. He knew if he even wanted a chance with her then he’d have to make a good impression.

Luckily he’d have the wolves and Jaskier on his side too.

He laughed. The teacher hadn’t once looked at the mark the way most people did, nor did he awkwardly maintain eye contact as a way to stop himself from staring. If Eskel was lucky then most of Triss’s friends would grant him the same courtesy.

One could only hope.

He pushed open the door and scanned the room. He caught sight of Triss’s mop of curly copper brown hair and grinned. She looked up at the sound of his footsteps and smiled brightly at him. She had a glass of rosé in hand and her cheeks were flushed under her tanned skin from the heat of the pub. She looked breathtakingly beautiful. She was wearing a bright turquoise top and a black leather jacket.

“Eskel!!” A happy cry surprised him and he suddenly had his arms full of Jaskier.

Eskel grunted as he buckled slightly under the unexpected weight. The teacher was heavier than he looked, and Eskel had never noticed how muscular he was before.

How the fuck did he hide all this under those floral shirts?

“Jaskier!” Triss chided. “Leave him alone.”

“But he’s so strong!” Jaskier whined.

He reeked of alcohol already. Eskel tried to lower the teacher to the floor but Jaskier’s arms were wrapped tightly around his neck.

“I’m so sorry.” Triss smiled apologetically and shifted along the cushioned bench to make space for him. “Some one got a little over excited about the holidays.”

“Every day is closer to summer Triss Merigold!” Jaskier pointed a finger accusingly at his friend, still half hanging from Eskel’s shoulder. “And I thank all the Gods for that!”

“What’s so good about the summer holidays?” Eskel asked with a laugh.

Jaskier gasped dramatically and put his hands on his hips.

“Oh my dear firefighter.” Jaskier almost looked at him in pity and jumped up on the table and began to perform with his hand on his heart.

“Summer is the season of friendship, long days, and sand between your toes. Summer is the season of happiness, of smiles sweeter than a lover’s rose. Summer is the season of music, laughter and happiness swirling all around. Summer is the season of joy, for out of darkness, light will be found. Summer is the season of hope, flowers blooming, yellow, red and blue. Summer is the season of love, For my dear heart, love is you.”

Eskel blinked up at the man. His cheeks were pink and his hair was a mess but he had the biggest grin on his face and looked ridiculously proud of himself.

A wolf whistle from the door accompanied by laughter and applause came from the door of the pub. Eskel groaned. His dear brother always arrived at the worst points.

Jaskier preened at the attention and bowed dramatically before Triss yanked him off the table. He stumbled and landed half in her lap.

“Eskel! Look at you. I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” Lambert grinned and pulled him into a hug.

“Way to go, Buttercup!” Renfri cheered.

Jaskier gasped. “Oh no. No, no, no. Not my boyfriend. No offence, my darling wolf.” Jaskier leaned pulled Eskel’s face down and kissed him on the nose. “You are beautiful and you would be a wonderful boyfriend.” Eskel rolled his eyes and pushed the teacher away.

Jaskier pouted but settled in Triss’s lap, twirling the curls of her hair in his fingers. He began to babble away about how pretty it was and how the freckles on her skin were like kisses from an angel. He wasn’t wrong but Eskel had to push down the jealousy that was threatening to tear the teacher from Triss’s lap and dump in on the floor. Instead he made do for sitting next to her, with Jaskier’s feet sprawling into his lap.

“Lilit’s sake. How much has he had?” Lambert asked.

Triss sighed wearily and rolled her eyes. “Not as much as you much might think. Just couple of doubles. I think he’s just excited.”

Lambert turned to face Triss with a puzzled frown on his face then gestured between himself and Renfri. “Lambert. Renfri. Not together before you asked. Not that you would but…”

“Lambert. Shut it.” Eskel growled.

Triss just laughed and smiled up at the newcomers. “Triss Merigold, you know Jaskier I take it.”

“They’re friends of Geralt’s!” Jaskier chimed. “And all so handsome.” Renfri coughed and glared at him. “Oh you are the most handsome! Or do you prefer beautiful? Radiant?”

Renfri smirked. “Better.”

“All so radiant!” Jaskier amended with a dopy grin. “I think it’s a requirement of the job.” He whispered loudly at Triss.

Eskel rolled his eyes at the teacher fondly. “Thought there would be more of you?”

Triss nodded. “Tissaia and Is have gone to meet Yennefer at the airport.”

Eskel frowned. Geralt hadn’t mentioned anything about Yennefer dropping by. They normally all tried to meet up for dinner when she was in town. “Yen’s back?”

Triss nodded and sipped her wine. “She’s surprising Geralt and Ciri. I think she’s taking Ciri on a road trip to start the holidays. Give Geralt a break from having to worry about childcare, and let Coën spend more time with his friends.”

Eskel grinned. “That’ll be good, and he’s on leave the week after next, for Ciri’s birthday. I think they were going to go on a hack with Roach, and Geralt’s planning his first birthday party.”

“Roach?” Triss asked.

“His horse!” Jaskier grinned. “She’s beautiful.”

“Jaskier, you think everyone is beautiful.” Triss sighed and pulled the brunet’s fingers from her hair.

“Well, excuse me?” He snorted. “I am an artist! It is my job to see the beauty in the world.”

“You’re a teacher, it’s your job to wipe snot from kid’s noses.” Renfi smirked.

Jaskier gasped. “You take that back! I am a musician, a poet, a troubadour of the highest merit. Lambert tell her!”

Lambert chuckled. “I don’t know about a troubadour but his band is pretty good.”

Jaskier stuck his tongue out at Renfri who made a face right back at him. Eskel rolled his eyes as he looked between his friends. “Drinks?” He asked, peering at the queue for the bar. It wasn’t too bad but it was always easier for one of them to queue up rather than a whole group of them.

Triss perked up and finished up the last of her glass of wine. “I’ll come with you. Anyone want to share a bottle of bubbly?”

Jaskier stuck his hand up immediately. Lambert shrugged. “Why not, Merigold, go on then.”

“I’ll have a pint of whatever ale is cheapest.” Renfri added.

Eskel helped Triss to extract herself from Jaskier’s clinging hands. In the end it had been easier to transfer the teacher onto Lambert’s lap. The alcohol in his system had made Jaskier even more physically affectionate than he usually was. Eskel wondered how much he had to restrain himself at work. The kids probably would have been confused if their teacher went around hugging all the teachers and parents that he met.

It was an amusing thought, nonetheless.

Triss placed her hand on his arm as they navigating through the crowd towards the bar. “I’m glad you came.”

Eskel smiled fondly down at her, wondering at how the light of the nearby fireplace caught in the curls of her hair. “Wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

“What if I hadn’t have asked you to invite the others?” Triss asked coyly.

Eskel laughed. “Even better. You’ve seen my brother. He’s an asshole.”

Triss joined in with his laughter. She had a beautiful laugh, it was heartwarming and gentle. “You’re not the one who brought along Jaskier. He’s a great friend but…”

“But he can be a bit much?” Eskel surmised.

“Exactly!” Triss agreed.

“Well.” Eskel tried to give Triss his most charming smile. “Maybe next time it could be just us?”

Triss cupped his cheek gently with her hand and her smile was brighter than the sun. “You read my mind, wolf.” She kissed his cheek before turning back to order the drinks with a radiant smile on her face.

All Eskel could do was smile dopily at her.

By the time Yennefer, Istredd and Tissaia arrived, the rest of the gang were all a few drinks down and full of mirth. Lambert was telling some stupid story from when they were at the kid’s home together. The pranks they’d played had been legendary. Eskel helped the story along by adding bits and pieces that his brother had left out. He was a little distracted by Triss holding his hand under the table but he didn’t let it show. Everyone else seemed either too drunk to notice or quite frankly didn’t care.

He wasn’t quite sure what he thought of Tissaia and Istredd. The former was difficult to read. She seemed very put together and there was something about her that reminded him of the care workers at the home, but Triss was fond of her so she couldn’t be all bad.

Istredd on the other hand.

He’d heard of Istredd. The man was Yen’s ex and Geralt’s former rival for her affection. Geralt had been jealous of the history teacher and the two had butted heads a few times over the years. So Eskel hadn’t had the best impression of him before they’d met. He’d been pleasantly surprised. The man seemed to be a kind hearted and gentle person. Even after a few glasses of sparkling wine, Eskel didn’t miss the way he circled around Yennefer as if she was the centre of his universe. Yen didn’t seem to mind the attention either. They certainly seemed to balance each other better than Geralt and Yen ever had. Eskel found himself in deep conversation with Istredd about a book he’d been reading about the Great Cleansing. He’d been fascinated to hear about Istredd’s theories of real life magic imbedded into their ancient history.

Magic was really cool. He loved magic. He wondered whether he should take Triss to see a magic show. The kind with bubbles and pretty lights.

Jaskier flitted easily between conversations, compliments and words of adoration flowing from his lips like a waterfall. He laughed and flirted and bounced about with endless energy. Renfri had seemed to have adopted the brunet as her personal human cat, and he was quite happy to sit with his head on her shoulder whilst Renfri absentmindedly petted his hair.

Jaskier the cat. Eskel snorted at the image that popped into his brain. Geralt with wolf ears and Jaskier with cat ears. What an adorable pair they would make. If only they could stop pining already.

Of course, eventually the conversation steered back to Ciri. Ciri, the one person they all had in common. Yennefer had casually mentioned one of the art galleries she was planning to take the girl on their road trip. The gallery currently held some of Yennefer’s own artwork so it was really a chance for her to show the young girl what she did, a chance to bond more. Eskel knew that Yennefer saw Ciri as a sort of daughter, he wouldn’t be entirely surprised if she ended up moving closer to Posada to be nearer Ciri. She missed her a lot when she was away and she’d regretted not spending the Solstice with them in person.

Naturally the conversation segued into her one about her father.

Jaskier froze still and was silent for the first time all night.

“You alright there, Buttercup?” Yen asked the brunet with smirk.

Eskel was starting to wonder whether she’d been manipulating the conversation the entire time just so she could watch Jaskier’s reaction. She must have known about whatever was going on with Jaskier and Geralt. If Geralt or one of the wolves hadn’t told her then Triss almost certainly had. He knew those two were incredibly close.

“Fine.” Jaskier answered in a clipped tone. “Absolutely. Why wouldn’t I be fine? I’m fine. My goodness is that the time?” He scrambled off of Renfri’s lap, stumbling slightly as he stood up for the first time in a while, and started looking around for his jacket. “Oh bollocks!”

Yennefer was more sober and therefore, faster. She had Jaskier’s coat tucked under her arm and she pushed him back into an empty seat. “Sit, Julian.”

“My name!” Jaskier cried indignantly. “is Jaskier.”  

“Whatever, what’s going on with you and Geralt?” Yennefer had Jaskier pinned under her stern violet gaze.

Eskel didn’t envy the teacher. He’d been caught by Yennefer’s wrath before and it was not something to take lightly. There were times when it felt like Yennefer had the power to move the earth itself.

It was bloody terrifying.

He was just glad that most of the time Yen was on his side. She was a good friend, loyal to a fault, as long as you didn’t cross her.

Eskel squeezed Triss’s hand, Triss wasn’t terrifying. She was the funny warm feeling that he felt in his stomach.  She rested her head on his shoulder for barely a second before moving away. The whole table fell silent as they watched the altercation between Yen and Jaskier.

“What?” Jaskier laughed nervously, his eyes flashing towards Tissaia. “Why would anything be going on between me and Ciri’s father?”

He was blushing and his fingers were fiddling nervously with the buttons on his shirt.

Tissaia put a hand on Yennefer’s shoulder. “Yennefer.”

“No!” Yennefer snapped. “Look I don’t care if you’re shagging him or not, but he’s hurting and it’s your fault, Buttercup.”

Tissaia raised her chin. “That’s enough, Yennefer.”

Yennefer turned to Tissaia with fiery violet eyes but the headmistress didn’t even flinch, Eskel suddenly had a lot more respect for her. “Tissaia, I’m sorry but you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“As headmistress at Dol Blathanna, I think I do.” Tissaia said sternly. “Jaskier is keeping his relationship with Mr Rivia strictly professional and your friend should understand that that is what is best for his daughter.”

Jaskier squeaked in his seat. “Ah yes. That. What she said. That is what is happening. Now if you’ll excuse me. I’m just…” He yawned dramatically “so tired. Long day at work. Thank you all for the most wonderful evening! Goodbye!” He yanked his coat from Yennefer’s hands and ran from the pub faster than lightning, stumbling against the doorframe on the way out.

Yennefer was furious.

“I had that under control!” She seethed.

“Yenna.” Istredd put a hand on her arm but she shrugged him off.

“Don’t any of you care?” She looked around the group. “No, of course you don’t. You are all idiots.”

“Hey!” Lambert snapped, the word slurred slightly and his face was flushed red, clashing horribly with his hair. Eskel kicked his brother under the table. Now was not the time to challenge her. “Hey!” He repeated, this time directed at Eskel.

“Did you know Ciri rang me up last week?” Yennefer asked with a voice as cold as ice.

Eskel felt as if all the soul had been sucked out of him and he gripped Triss’s hand tighter for support. “Why would we know that, Yen?” He asked wearily, his vision was starting to spin slightly and quite honestly he would rather be whispering sweet nothings into Triss’s ear than listening to Yen.

Triss was just so beautiful.

It might have been the alcohol but he was suddenly feeling rather smitten.

“She was in floods of tears. Her father hasn’t laughed in weeks and barely has the energy in the evenings to talk to her about her day at school. Her teacher has stopped smiling and acts as if he hates them all. She doesn’t understand but to Ciri the only thing that her teacher and her father have in common is her.” Yennefer explained sharply.

Eskel furrowed his brow, trying to focus his remaining brain power that hadn’t been slowed by the booze on Yen’s words. He could have sworn she was a witch, no matter how much she drank she never seemed to get drunk like the rest of them. A quick glance round the table told him that the others were also having difficulties following Yen’s sharp tongue.

It was down to him to figure out.

Perhaps Triss could give him a clue. She was as clever as she was beautiful, and she was incredibly beautiful.

“She blames herself?” Triss asked, her own words were barely slurred, the traitor. Another witch. She must be.

“Wouldn’t you?” Yennefer snapped. “She doesn’t know what’s been going on because no one has fucking told her anything. She’s six but she’s not stupid. Now I’m not particularly fond of Buttercup or his relationship with Geralt, or whatever the fuck it is. Call it petty jealousy if it’ll make you feel better but I prefer calling it having standards.”

“Yenna.” Istredd said softly.

Her eyes flashed to him and immediately she seemed to settle slightly. “But Ciri is getting caught in the crossfire. I am trying to protect her. I think we can all agree that she is what is important here.”

Everyone in the room nodded quietly.

“Triss, you and Esk have been thinking up a plan to fix this?” Yennefer asked. Lambert and Renfri raised their eyebrows at Eskel and he felt himself blush.

Tissaia sighed. “I’ll be on my way, I don’t think I should hear anymore of this. The less I know the better.” She gathered up her purse and jacket. There was a quiet murmur of obligatory goodbyes before she walked from the room with a grace of a ballet dancer. Eskel was in awe. The woman had had her fair share of wine but it hadn’t seemed to have affected her at all.

“We’ve been trying.” Triss admitted after Tissaia had left. “But Geralt and Jaskier have both cheered up so we thought maybe they’d moved on?”

Yennefer frowned. “Cheered up?”

“Yup. Old White Wolf’s been back to his usual grumpy self this week.” Renfi added as she sipped the last of her drink. “So tolerably grumpy instead of a completely miserable bastard.”

Everyone laughed at that.

“And Jaskier was writing a new song in the staff room this week.” Triss said.

“Unfortunately.” Istredd drawled. “I was enjoying the peace and quiet.”

“Spoilsport.” Triss stuck her tongue out at the history teacher.

“Some of us have work to do.” Istredd shot back.

Triss laughed. “I’ll give the parents your personal mobile number if you’re not careful!”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Istredd glared.

“No, but I might if you don’t shut it.” Yennefer snapped. “So we all agree we need to do something to help?”

There was a cheer of agreement. “For the record, I don’t care.” Lambert said loudly.

“Shut up.” Renfri punched him in the arm. “You’re just jealous.”

“Am not.” He glared.

“Oh really? Because don’t think I didn’t notice you watching that blond cat as he was leaving work the other day.” Renfri teased.

“Fuck off.” Lambert grumbled. “Fine. I’ll help.”

“If it helps, I also really don’t care.” Istredd sighed.

“You don’t get a choice.” Yennefer smirked. “You’re helping.”

“So where do we start?” Eskel asked. “And don’t say an intervention because we already tried that.”

Yennefer grinned, the sort of grin that sent chills up Eskel’s spine.

“I am not an amateur, Esk. Now listen closely!” _______ Next

[writeangstime]

Perfect moment (Jaskier x Reader) - Modern AU!

This might seem like a stupid plot, but I saw that you did AU, so could I please request a modern AU!The Witcher oneshot or ficlet with Jaskier x female reader where he takes the reader to Disneyland, where he plans on proposing to the reader. Bonus points if it also involves Geralt and Yennefer hating the sight of all the bright colours, everyone being cheerful, etc and little Ciri getting all excited!

A/N: It was so pleasant to write this and I hope you can forgive me all the mistakes I made. Also I try my best to write all my stories as gender neutral as possible, so I hope you don’t mind that.

Title: Perfect moment Fandom: The Witcher (modern AU) Pairing: Jaskier x Reader Genre: Fluff Warnings: None right now   Words: 1283

The queue before the entrance was slowly staring to kill your feet – so much that you were tempted to just sit down right where you were standing – but the hand of your boyfriend kept you in place and you didn’t want to struggle away from the grasp. It also didn’t want help that the burning and despiteful gazes of Geralt and Yennefer were almost burning the hole in your back. Not like they blamed you for being stuck in the place like this, but the excited screams of young children all around made Geralt twitching in a will to both ignore them and shut them up. On the other hand, Yennefer would feel well among all of those kids, but then there was Cirilla who decided to run the whole queue up and front, asking from time to time about different costumes.

“So what are…plans for today. If you are planning to stand with me to any Disney princess, I am turning my back and walking away right now” he grunted, fixing the hat on Ciri’s head before letting her head for another run in the crowd, despite all his mood keeping an eye for her.

“Oh, I already thought about it! So we can go on some rides and then grab some food, I know it isn’t the cheapest in here, but also they told there is something interesting that you always can’t try elsewhere. Also, we maybe need to get to the queue, but only to the princess Ciri and you want to go. But-“ Jaskier was full into the immersing the surroundings and the information all around, but at the same time, but what he didn’t expect was being cut off by his friend who stood at the back.

“Yes, the overpriced items sold by people who pretend to live in the delusional place and are paid to tell lies to children, with people dressed in the heavy dresses no matter the weather, rides full of split drinks and popcorn and what else one could find in there, and also-“ Geralt also began his tirade, but awkwardly cut it when he noticed Jaskier waving his hand frantically behind your back, hoping to get even a bit of the signal that the mood of your group with that attitude will drop faster than the biggest ride.

“I think there is still something to find under this cheap and shoddy costumes and exposition, and probably…time to enjoy yourself keeping away from all of that” Jaskier wasn’t sure if Yennefer was truly trying to make things better or worse. He couldn’t be sure with her attitude that presented somehow disgust, somehow interest while she could take a peek at all those kinds having just fun all around her.

Your lips twitched in some kind of small smile but you didn’t feel that there was much excitement left for anything that was happening. Not like you despised now the thought of the thrill, but at this time when the companions with you were already thinking about it in a negative way, there was no way you could hold excitement for long.  It came to your mind that there was probably no reason why they tagged along and why they would even come to you and Jaskier. But there was also no way od deciding what to do now – first, you have to get pass through the whole queue.

                                                           ***

“What do you think would be the best option?” the question you asked to hang in the air and you wondered why prying your gaze away from the toys you were struggling to chose from. Upon noticing that none of the companions that came with you here were in sight – how is that they could vanish almost instantly, but when no one needed them they could roar through the crowd like tsunami wave – so that brought some kind of suspicions. Reaching for your phone, you did your best to dial the number to any of your friends, but if it was for the noise or for any other issue, they didn’t pick up.

So you decided that the best thing did stay in the place, knowing that the size of the park will make you lost for days if you decide to set to look for them right now. That or you could ask for help any of the members of the staff, but you were adult, not a lost child – if you could wait and try to reach your friends and boyfriend later, there was no need to panic after one line of a non-answered phone call. You decided it was a good idea, especially when you felt the vibration of your phone inside your pocket. What you didn’t expect when you answered was a huge noise in the background that Jaskier tried to overshout.

“PLEASE COME TO A STAR WARS ZONE! CIRI IS MISSING, PROBABLY ON HER WAY TO JOIN THE FIRST ORD-AU! DON’T HIT ME, GERALT! BUT PLEASE JUST COME!” With that, the connection was dropped and you just sighed, though the corner of your lips raised in a small smile. At least you couldn’t say that this day wasn’t interesting.

                                                           ***

You finally felt some peace when you sat down on one of the  benches, walking almost the whole day from one part of the park to another, enjoying your day as much as possible. Your legs were killing you and you felt your clothes sticky with some sweets you managed to grab as well as your sweat. This was tiring and yet so satisfying event that will probably stick with you for long. With a loud sigh, your head moved to rest on the shoulder of your boyfriend, enjoying the warm arm that he wrapped around you. But then, soon he jumped from his place, surprising you in every bit.

“Just warn me next time you do something like that!” you whined, rubbing your head that you hit on the wood of the bench. Squinting at him, your face quickly turned from grumpy to honestly surprised when you saw your boyfriend kneeling on the road, with people all around now turning their heads toward you. The redness came to your face when you thought that probably some families now grinned at you, probably silently cheering whatever was happening, especially when a velvet box found its way to Jaskiers’ hands.

Your breath was taken away on the glimpse of ring resting in there, hearth beating now so fast that you almost thought it was going to jump from your chest. Eyes travelled to the face of the man that was now kneeling in front of you, a stupid grin plastered to his face as he also seemed to be stressed as much as he was feeling joy.

“Listen, I came here hoping that I may find the perfect moment for both of us to just have this, but, I must say, every moment with you is perfect. And though I know I sometimes can’t shut up, just drag things all around or talk too much…I love you and if you accept me for who I am, I want to love you for the rest of my days. So…what you say (Y/N)? Will you marry me?”.

You never knew how exactly you found yourself on your feet. How you moved his hands toward him, wrapping them all around his neck, causing you two to fall on the ground in a bit of trembling mess. But you knew the moment that when you shouted “I will!”, there was a clapping all around and you couldn’t care less – the only thing that counted for you was the man that you held in your arms.

[fanficfeeling]

Lovely Part 2 - Jaskier x Reader

A/N: Hey everyone! Wow! Part 1 received far more positive feedback than I thought it would! I'm super grateful to everyone who read part one, or left a comment, or was just very encouraging, you've really helped re-spark my love for writing <3 Boy, this took way too long to finish, but I just really wanted to make sure it held up the first part at least a little! I hope you enjoy this part as well, and I'm planning on writing at least one more part to this after this, so let me know if your interested in that/how much more of this story you're interested in seeing! Either way I'm planning on continuing to write for The Witcher, and on starting to post for other fandoms (of which I'll be posting a list soon!) so if you like my work please follow or just keep an eye out! Love you guys.

Summary: 3 times Jaskier has done his best to distract Y/N from the less enjoyable parts of her life.

Part 1

Warnings: Brief language warning.

Tagged: @failure-of-the-day (I might be assuming but I thought you might like to be tagged!) @ultracolorfulnerdcollection @blue-hoodies-for-life @athenaisalpha

~~

Y/N found out rather quickly that spending time with Jaskier is a surefire way to bring a smile to her face. Her job can be depressing, Geralt is often silent at the most inopportune times, and travelling for such long distances can be boring, but Jaskier is none of those things, and often goes out of his way to grab her attention from that which brings down her mood.

For instance, moments like this one: Y/N has returned to this small town's inn after helping the townspeople for the day, feeling like the weight of the world is on her shoulders after the day she's had. Geralt hasn't returned from his monster slaying yet, so she seeks out Jaskier for company.

When she finds him in his room, he's laying on his bed, writing something down on a piece of paper haphazardly, using his propped-up knee as a work surface. As impractical as the position seems, he looks comfortable: laid back, his normal, fancier wear tossed aside for a simple white shirt and comfortable trousers, and a smile upon his face. It take Y/N all of a second to decide that the look does him great justice.

"Jaskier." Y/N starts, making him aware of her presence.

He looks up, briefly startled, but when his eyes come to rest on her, his smile widens, "Hello, Y/N."

"I just wanted to let you know that I'm back in for the evening."

"I'm glad! It was getting boring around here with no company. Please, come in, sit down." Y/N expects him to gesture to the chair against the wall in invitation, but he simply moves his feet and makes room on his bed for her. She means to be more proper about coming into his space, but as she approaches, she finds that she ends up throwing herself down onto the bed, her exhaustion weighing down her bones.

This seems to be the first time Jaskier notices her mood is off, "Hey, everything alright?"

Y/N looks at him sheepishly, "Just a long day is all. How was yours?"

Taking the hint that she wasn't up for talking about it, Jaskier indulges her, "I started writing a new song today, and I have to admit, it's taken up pretty much all of my time. It's-"

It's all Y/N can do to stay focused on his words for that long, as images of ill people, broken homes, and crying children fill her mind. This town is lucky to have an inn still standing, considering all the havoc beasts nearby have caused. Why must monsters even have to exist like this at all? Why must innocent people suffer for mindless, bloodthirsty crazes? Why does Y/N dedicate herself to cleaning up messes that aren't even hers?

"Y/N?" She looks up at Jaskier at the sound of his persistent voice, and it isn't until she attempts to speak that she realizes she's begun crying. She also finds that she can't find anything to say to him to make an excuse for her state.

He doesn't question any further though, and swiftly gives her a soft smile, before setting aside his papers and opening his arms, beckoning her towards him.

She doesn't even think about it as she crawls towards him and re-positions herself so that he can envelop her in a hug, as she lays her head against his chest. Just being there quickly quiets the tears, but Jaskier doesn't let go, and for that Y/N is grateful.

They sit in silence as Y/N calms herself, and eventually Jaskier leans down a little bit to kiss her forehead and whisper, "Whatever you've been through, please just remember that I'm here for you and that your soul is good, and deserves to be returned the help and goodness that you give."

Oh yeah, that's why she does it all. However hard it can be, it's the good she does that keeps her moving.

~~~

The next time Jaskier goes out of his way to lift Y/N's mood, Y/N and Geralt are sitting at a table in another tavern, completely silent. Normally Y/N has no issues with respecting their silence, she often enjoys it, but her work involved a lot of repairs today, and she barely had any human connection at all throughout the day. She fidgets, doing her best not to disturb Geralt as he seems to contemplate something—she knows he has his own demons swimming around in his mind—but she worries that if she doesn't do something stimulating soon, she very well might burst.

Jaskier descends from the rooms above the tavern space, looking to begin his own work for the night as an entertainer. He had gotten permission from the owner of this establishment earlier in the day to perform in the space, and as it got on into the evening, he knew that now was his prime time. He had cleaned himself up, decided on his song list, and was ready to go.

As he looked around the tavern sizing up his audience, his eyes came to rest upon his travelling companions. Geralt seems lost in thought, and Y/N... Y/N seems downright bored. Knowing that she's been having a rough go of it lately with her work, Jaskier quickly decides that he cannot let this stand.

He swiftly changes his course and makes his way towards their table, a plan only half formed in his mind, and when he stops in front of them he finds himself asking, "Y/N, could I ask a favor of you?"

She looks at him, curiosity in her eyes and a soft smile on her mouth—a goddess in the flesh, he thinks—and he continues, "I have some songs that I was planning on playing tonight, and I would like to see how they fare as duets. Would you join me?"

Jaskier doesn't know by what miracle she says yes, and neither does she, really, but soon the two fall into a groove that brings the attention, and coin, of the patrons. They stumble through the first few songs, rousing some laughs from their audience, until they get to "Toss A Coin To Your Witcher", and the audience joins in singing with them. The pair puts on a show as they sing and they dance, and the audience adores it.

After a rendition (or several) of Jaskier's hit song, many of their audience members start to fall away, so the bard takes that as a hint to start slowing things down.

"Y/N, how would you feel about rounding this performance off by performing "Her Sweet Kiss" with me?"

Y/N's heart skips a beat. She's heard the way he sings that song, and the emotion he puts into it is always enough to bring her near to tears.

"I would be honored."

He starts the beginning off himself, and cues her when to come in. "So tell me love, tell me love, how is that just?" Jaskier never breaks eye contact with Y/N as they sing, and she utters no complaints as it feels like he bears his soul to her while gazing deeply into hers.

"I'm weak, my love, and I am wanting. If this is the path I must trudge, I'll welcome my sentence, give to you my penance, garroter, jury, and judge."

When Y/N had wished for human interaction, this was not what she had expected, but fuck her if it wasn't far better.

As the song comes to a close, Y/N still can't find it in her to look away from his eyes, but luckily for her, it seems that neither can he. The applause of the crowd goes unnoticed by both until the moment passes on its own.

"Thank you, for doing this with me, Y/N."

"Thank you for asking, Jaskier."

~~~

While traveling is, of course, a luxury, just the act of getting somewhere new isn't always the most enjoyable of activities. Travelling may be an integral part of Y/N's job, but knowing that is rarely enough to make her feel better about her soreness from riding her horse, or the boredom she feels as they slowly move along on empty side roads, past endless fields. Yet, this is ultimately a part of her job, so she grins and bears it for the satisfaction of helping people and the coin it brings.

Jaskier, in all his many observations of this captivating do-gooder, begins to notice that she rarely has a good time between locations. He notices that she has no way to occupy herself, besides just listening to him ramble, and he notices that she doesn't seem to plan on doing anything to remedy that situation. So, he resolves to do so himself.

"Y/N," He begins as he sits on her horse behind her, one arm wrapped around her waist. "How would you like to play a game?"

"A game? Why?"

"Because I'm terribly bored and would like to hear your lovely voice. Are you in?"

"Oh, uh, I suppose I am, yes."

"Okay then. I spy, with my little eye-" Her laughter that follows is enough to make Jaskier's heart light. Making her laugh always makes him just a little bit happier.

He hears Geralt groan next to them on Roach, and watches in amusement as he begins to trot further up ahead of them.

"What a grumpy, grumpy man. Alright, hush now, or you'll miss the object. Anyways, I spy, with my little eye, something very long and brown."

"Oh, oh, is it the tree trunks?"

"Very close but not quite. Something dusty."

"The road!"

"Ding ding ding! You've got it!" She laughs once more at his enthusiasm.

"My turn then! I spy, with my little eye, something... big and blue."

Jaskier pretends to think for a moment, and then feigns surprise as he exclaims, "The sky!"

He thinks her joyful laughter is stopping his heart by now, but he's certain he might fall off the horse when she says, "I could preserve this round for a little longer and say 'It was actually your eyes', but that might be a little obvious, huh?"

He rests his head on her shoulder and attempts to look at her face. "That gives me an idea. I spy, with my little eye, something lovely."

A blush breaks out across her face immediately, but she tries not to make assumptions. "Oh, uh... those flowers on the side of the road?"

"Not quite. A bit closer to me." She swears she can feel his arms tighten around her just a fraction.

"Then... is it the horse? You two seem to get along quite well." He chuckle is deep, and she can feel the motion against her back.

"I do love Cinnamon dearly, but you're still a bit off. Try again."

Y/N's breath hitches in her throat, and she glances to the side to look at him, finding him closer than she expected. "Lovely? Is it, uh... me, then?" His smile is enough to make her think her heart will soon burst out of her chest.

"Very good. You're excellent at this. Fancy another round?"

It takes her several minutes to calm down, but she gets into their game again, and sure enough, before either of them even know it, they've reached their destination. They both find themselves a little sad when they have to let go and get off of Cinnamon, but the feeling of being so close doesn't leave either of them for hours.  

Yes, Y/N reflects, everything really does get better with him around.

Yeah, Jaskier thinks, I wouldn't trade a second with her for anything.

[stressedspidergirlsfandomblog]

NSFW?

Sort of TW child abuse, but within canon for the books. Like. Spanking levels of abuse not severe trauma/beatings

When Geralt freezes up on him, Dandelion stops suddenly. "What's wrong?" He asks, concerned. The night had been going swimmingly. They'd been touching each other and rubbing on each other, and it had been lovely. And the minute the bard had gotten Geralt's cock into his hand the other man had frozen. "Did I hurt you?" He asks, looking Geralt over, maybe he'd pulled him a little too fast or too hard getting him out of his pants.

"What?" He asks, confused. "No, I'm fine, you're fine," he promises, pressing in to kiss his bard again. He'd wanted to kiss him for... Years now, it seemed.

"Geralt," Dandelion pulls back in consternation. "You froze up, what's wrong? Do you not want to do this?"

"You just sparked a memory, that's all," Geralt tells him in his usual gravelly voice.

"A bad one?" The bard pushes, setting his hands on his thighs and pulling farther away.

"No," Geralt sighs, deeply disappointed he'd managed to ruin this, too. "Just old. Just memories of my training."

"Your training involved a man giving you a hand job?"

"No!" Geralt snaps, then sees Dandelion's teasing him. "No, just lonely boys with no one else around. That's all."

"Ah. I see. So with no women around you all learned on each other," he says slowly. "I don't see why that made you freeze up. It was voluntary right?"

"Of course," Geralt snorts derisively. "But see, Witchers aren't supposed to have feelings or needs as such. Much less share hands when you're sick of your own. We all got caught and our hides tanned so bad none of us sat easily for weeks." He winces a bit at the thought.

"Because you were all male?" The bard pushes.

"No. Because we weren't focused and we shouldn't have been feeling like we needed someone else to begin with. Lonely is a feeling. And we were supposed to bury them until The Changes and the Trials completely burned them out of us."

"So will this," Dandelion gestures between them, "bring up bad memories?"

"I wasn't ... No. No it won't. And if it does, we'll just make new, better ones," Geralt tells him, even if he's fairly sure he's saying it more for his own benefit.

"Is the mood ruined for you? Because I would still gladly love to touch you without your pants in my way," Dandelion tells him. "But if it's ruined, I'll understand."

"No," Geralt tells him, pulling him close again to kiss him eagerly.

"Oh good, because you see, I had thought maybe, perhaps that it-"

"It will be if you don't stop blathering," Geralt points out with a wry grin.

"It's just that how can I not? You're wonderful. Your cock is wonderful. I'm wonderful. The weather is wonderful-" he falls silent when Geralt pulls him into another kiss and palms him through his pants.

[havenoffandoms]

Precious Buttercup, Delicate Flower - Whumptober Prompt 3

Prompt: My Way or the Highway (manhandled/forced to their knees/held at gunpoint)

Summary: Geralt rode the elevator to the third floor, his gun securely nestled in the holster hanging at his hip and concealed by Geralt’s leather jacket. When he stepped out of the elevator, he noticed that the hallway was empty. Good. Geralt hated loose ends. They kept him awake at night and titillated the dark voices in his head urging him to track, to silence, to kill.

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier

Warnings: Alternate Universe, Sociopathic Geralt, Hurt/No comfort, emotional manipulation, held at gunpoint

Geralt rode the elevator to the third floor, his gun securely nestled in the holster hanging at his hip and concealed by Geralt’s leather jacket. When he stepped out of the elevator, he noticed that the hallway was empty. Good. Geralt hated loose ends. They kept him awake at night and titillated the dark voices in his head urging him to track, to silence, to kill. Geralt walked down the familiar hallway heading for apartment 32, Jaskier’s apartment. His pulse quickened at the thought of what he was about to do. It’s the job, Vesemir had told him before handing him a picture of Jaskier that same morning, that cop’s on Lambert’s trail. We need to get him out of the picture before he gets to us. It was what the job required him to do, and Geralt was nothing if damn good at his job. He reached apartment 32 quickly and brought a fist to gently knock on the door. It did not take Jaskier long to appear in the doorway, a bright smile illuminating his face like he did not have a fucking bounty on his head.  

“Hey babe,” Jaskier greeted him, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on Geralt’s lips, “you’re early, as always. Come in, I just finished baking cookies.”

Jaskier loved baking. And singing. And cheesy rom-coms. These were all things Geralt had learned about the man over the past year they had been dating. They had met in a trendy London bar. Geralt had been on a mission to gather intel on his next victim, but Jaskier’s soft brown curls and blue eyes sparkling with mischief had proved too great a distraction. Geralt had taken Jaskier home that night, in the mood for a quick one-night-stand, but Jaskier was the most intoxicating drug Geralt had ever tasted and he had become obsessed with Jaskier’s entire existence. A one-night-stand turned into casual coffee dates in between Geralt’s bounties and Jaskier’s detective work, and before Geralt could stop himself he was taking Jaskier out the movies, to expensive restaurants, on trips around the world (first class, if you please). Vesemir hated it. Of course he did. It was dangerous for an assassin to date a detective. Not any detective, mind you, but one of the detectives who had been on Geralt and his brothers’ trails for months now. Keep your friends close, and your enemies closer Vesemir, Geralt had told the man who had taken him in and raised him like his own son. Keeping your enemies closer does not mean you need to fuck them, Geralt, Vesemir had retorted. Geralt did not care. Their relationship was dangerous, but Geralt loved the thrill of it. He always got what he wanted, and right now, he wanted Jaskier more than anything in the world.

Needed Jaskier.

Craved him.

Vesemir could piss off.  

“Chocolate chip cookies?” Geralt asked as he stepped into Jaskier’s apartment.

“Rainbow cookies,” Jaskier corrected him, giggling softly when Geralt frowned at him, “I added smarties instead of choc chips, but rainbow cookies sounds miles better than smarties cookies, don’t you think?”

“Whatever you say, buttercup.”

Buttercup. His delicate little flower. His buttercup. Geralt bit back a dreamy sigh as he followed Jaskier into the kitchen. The counter was littered with open packaging, dirty bowls, various kitchen utensils, and was that rainbow cookie dough hanging from the ceiling? Geralt smirked, knowing just how chaotic his boyfriend could be in the kitchen. Jaskier was a man of many talents, a jack of all trades if you like, but for all his efforts he was a right mess in the kitchen. In fact, Geralt did not even think Jaskier’s creations tasted that good, but he would much rather lie to Jaskier than see his precious buttercup upset.

“I’ll be yours in just a flash, my dear, I need to call my boss. I think we had a breakthrough in that serial killer case we’re working on, isn’t that exciting?”

Geralt’s fingers twitched as he fought the urge to reach for his gun. Not yet. Not now. And if Geralt had a say in it, not ever. Geralt watched as Jaskier wiped his fingers on his apron before reaching for his phone which lay forgotten and covered in flour on the kitchen island. Geralt waited patiently, observing, listening. An unfamiliar feeling tugged at his heartstrings, but Geralt quickly repressed whatever it was distracting him from his goal. There was no space in his line of work for emotions to take over. Geralt needed to keep a cold head. He would mourn later. Geralt watched as Jaskier turned his back on him to lean against the kitchen island as he spoke to his boss.

“Hi Dijkstra, how’s it going? I’m fine yeah, why do you ask? … Just spit it out, man,” Jaskier urged his boss after a long pause during which Geralt guessed Dijkstra, the asshole who had been trailing Lambert for the past months, was fumbling nervously over his own words. “No, that… that can’t be right…”

Geralt reached for his gun but did not cock it yet. Jaskier’s back was still turned to him, but his shoulders were tense and the hand holding his phone was shaking.

“No, he’s not here. In fact, I haven’t heard from Geralt all day.” A blatant lie. “Yes Dijkstra, I promise. I’ll be fine. See you in the morning.” Jaskier hug up abruptly and Geralt did not need to be a medium to know that Dijkstra did not want the conversation to end so soon. Jaskier was protecting him. His precious buttercup, his delicate flower. Geralt did not deserve him. Geralt swallowed thickly and tightened his hold around the grip of his handgun before pointing the gun at Jaskier’s head and cocking it.

Jaskier tensed.

“You’re one of them. You’re one of the wolves.”

The Wolves. The name Vesemir had given to Geralt and his brothers, an alias, a code name. It was a statement rather than a question, and Jaskier spoke these words with such hurt, such betrayal that Geralt very nearly screamed with rage. He hated being the reason that Jaskier was upset.

It’s the job.

Geralt’s stomach twisted uncomfortably.

“I am.”

“Are you going to kill me now?” Jaskier asked, his tone resigned, and that hurt Geralt more than the thought of killing him. Geralt took a composing breath, his knuckles turning white as his grip tightened even more. He did his best to hide the way his hands were shaking by taking a deep, composing breath and balling the hand at his side into a fist. Geralt had picked a handgun because it meant a quick death. By far his least favourite weapon, admittedly, but Jaskier did not deserve to suffer. A bullet through the head, and it would soon be over.

Geralt tried to convince himself that he was doing what had to be done to protect himself, to protect Vesemir, Eskel and Lambert. They were family, right? Family came first, right? Only Geralt had come to see Jaskier as family too, and fuck why could Vesemir not see that Jaskier was already a member of the pack?

“Turn around,” Geralt gently instructed. Jaskier only briefly hesitated to do as he was told, and when their eyes met Jaskier was staring at Geralt calmly, not a hint of fear to be found in those blue pools. Not fear, no, but something that stung all the same. Betrayal, hurt, disappointment, but also… love. Pure and unyielding despite Geralt holding a gun to Jaskier’s fucking head. Geralt smiled softly. His brave buttercup. “I don’t want to kill, you Jaskier.”

It was not a lie. Geralt had spent all day thinking of a way to get out of the contract. He knew that refusing to kill Jaskier would only encourage Vesemir to give the contract on Jaskier’s head to someone else. Vesemir might send Eskel or worse, Lambert to finish the job. Lambert could be particularly cruel, but he was always efficient. Geralt blamed that asshole Aiden for teaching Lambert how to toy with his victims and torture them before finishing them off slowly. Eskel, on the other hand, was a straight to the point, no strings attached kind of employee. He did the job quickly, professionally and without getting attached. Geralt liked to add personal touches to his jobs. He liked leaving breadcrumbs leading to nowhere to throw the cops and MI6 off their scent. Geralt loved the thrill that came with nearly getting caught.

Geralt could not let anyone else deal with Jaskier’s bounty, but that did not mean that he could not find another way to keep Jaskier safe – from Vesemir, from his brothers, from the authorities who would arrest Jaskier for being romantically involved with an assassin. Geralt had a plan, but that would only work if Jaskier cooperated. Which he might not after finding out who Geralt was, what he was.

“Geralt, you don’t have to do this.” Bargaining. A classic. People always tried to bargain their way out of being killed. “We can protect you. MI6 can protect you if you collaborate with us.”

“Why would I want to do that?” Geralt asked gently as he stepped closer to Jaskier. To Geralt’s delight, the other man did not even flinch. His precious buttercup, his delicate flower, let Geralt come close, although the latter was pointing a cocked gun at him. Geralt felt oddly proud.

“Geralt, what you’re doing is wrong. You’re murdering people.”

“Guilty people,” Geralt clarified. He stopped only when his face and Jaskier’s were mere inches apart. He pressed the muzzle of his gun to Jaskier’s forehead before leaning closer to place a soft kiss on the other man’s lips. A kiss that was returned, if a little shyly. “Most of them are, at least. The innocent people I’ve killed over the years were, how to put it, collateral damage.”

“Geralt, this is not the way to go about things. Guilty people need to be charged, then imprisoned. There are laws to punish guilty people, Geralt. Murder is a crime, even if you target guilty people.”

“Those laws will get guilty people in prison, but for how long? The people I kill don’t deserve justice. They never abided by the rules in place, so why should they be judged by the same rules they so readily disregarded most of their lives?”

It was only when tears gathered in his eyes that Geralt realised he had not blinked in a while. A soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he buried his nose in Jaskier’s hair, his eyes fluttering shut as he took in the intoxicating smell of his boyfriend’s bergamot scented shampoo. Geralt’s favourite. Jaskier leaned into him, his hand travelling up Geralt’s chest to rest warmly over his heart, perhaps to reassure himself that Geralt still had one. They stayed like this for a while, Geralt still pressing his gun to Jaskier’s forehead.

“Geralt… please. You say you kill guilty people. Then spare me. We’ll work this out, together.”

“I have a plan,” Geralt whispered, his other hand coming to rest at the back of Jaskier’s neck as he peppered his boyfriend’s neck with what he hoped were reassuring kisses. “I don’t have to kill you, my precious buttercup. I don’t want to kill you. My orders were to get you out of the picture. I can do that, get you somewhere safe.”

“What? Geralt, I can’t just run away. They’ll look for me. They know who you are, they’ll hunt you down.”

“I won’t leave your side, buttercup. I’ll come with you, we can lay low for a while. We’ll go somewhere they can’t track us. A farm, how does that sound? You and me, a couple of chickens, horses, dogs,… and I’ll kill anyone who tries to take you away from me,” Geralt promised, but his words rather than soothe Jaskier seemed to rile him up even more. Jaskier suddenly pulled away, those blue eyes Geralt could happily lose himself in staring back at him uncomprehendingly like Jaskier did not recognise the man before him. Geralt was no stranger. He was still the same man as before, ready to do anything to protect and defend what was his.

“No! I don’t want that. Geralt, I want you to stop killing people, guilty or not, I want you to cooperate with MI6, I want you to be safe.”

“You don’t love me anymore?” Geralt asked, suddenly insecure, something dark and twisted stirring in him at the thought of Jaskier leaving. Jaskier could not leave. Geralt would not allow it. How would he keep his boyfriend safe if Jaskier left him? His eyes sought Jaskier’s, finding none of the warmth and adoration Geralt usually saw reflected in the blue pools. Instead he found confusion, anger and most upsetting of all, the first hints of fear.

“I don’t love that you kill people,” Jaskier said after a brief silence, his frown deepening when Geralt’s fingers reached out to gently traced the line of his jaw, “You’re asking me to uproot my entire life, quit the job I love, leave my family and my friends behind to follow you to some yet unknown place to live on a farm. Yet, you don’t seem willing to give up your… your job. You expect me to accept that you kill people for a living. I certainly don’t love that about you.”

“So if I left now, you wouldn’t even be sad?” Geralt asked, willing his racing heart to calm down as he pulled Jaskier closer to him. Geralt teasingly ran the tip of his tongue along the shell of Jaskier’s ear, but the shudder his actions triggered was a result of Jaskier’s fear, not lust. Geralt growled low in his chest.

“No. I wouldn’t be.”

Geralt straightened up so he could stare properly into Jaskier’s eyes. Jaskier was lying. He could read his boyfriend like an open book, no matter how hard Jaskier tried to keep a straight face. It was Geralt’s job to find people’s weaknesses, and it was painfully clear that Jaskier’s weakness was Geralt. The way cornflour blue eyes avoided his honey-brown ones, the way Jaskier made no move to step away, the hopeful shimmer in his eyes, the twitching fingers itching to pull Geralt close… all these indicators pointed to it. Geralt smirked.

“Liar.”

Geralt stepped back and brought his gun to his chin, his eyes never leaving Jaskier’s. The way his boyfriend’s eyes widened in panic was a tell-tale sign that Geralt’s bluff was paying off. He even managed to look weepy, tears welling up in his eyes as he let out shaky breaths. Sometimes his job required Geralt to put up a show, either to manipulate or toy with his victims. Jaskier took the bait instantly.

“Geralt, no. You don’t want to do this.”

“You think I won’t kill myself?” Geralt asked, his voice hitching as he forced the tears to trail down his cheeks, “you’re mistaken, buttercup. I can’t do this anymore. I need to keep you safe.”

“Geralt, don’t do this, please don’t do this!” Jaskier all but begged, his own eyes filling with tears. His precious buttercup, his delicate flower. Geralt almost felt bad. “Geralt please, we’ll find a way to keep us both safe, I promise, just please… drop the gun. Please.”

“If you can’t come with me, I need to keep you safe some other way. Keep you safe from me. This is the only way.”

“GERALT, NO!”

Jaskier ran towards Geralt and reached for the gun, but Geralt was faster and moved away from his boyfriend before Jaskier had a chance to catch him. A loud, near hysterical, bark of laughter pushed past Geralt’s lips, his eyes which had been filled with tears before now full of mischief. In his haste, Jaskier had tripped and was now sprawled on his kitchen floor, looking up at Geralt in anxious anticipation. When Jaskier finally looked at him again, Geralt’s grin vanished and his features hardened into an unreadable expression.

“Don’t lie to me, buttercup,” Geralt said as he crouched next to the trembling man, his voice uncharacteristically cold considering he was talking to Jaskier of all people, “you care. You love me. And I love you. I want to keep you safe.”

“Geralt, you’re scaring me.”

“Hush, my sweet one,” Geralt put his gun down and cupped Jaskier’s face in his large hands, his thumbs gently wiping the rogue tears running down the pale cheeks, “none of that. I won’t hurt you. I won’t kill you. You’re mine, and I’ll keep you safe.”

Jaskier paused for a second, blue eyes losing themselves in honey-brown ones. Geralt smiled softly, whispering sweet nothings to Jaskier who had this tortured look on his face. Geralt vowed to make it all better, to be the best boyfriend Jaskier could ever dream of. He would never give up Jaskier, not for all the riches in the world. It might take some time for his lover to realise this, but with time Jaskier will see that all Geralt was trying to do is keep them safe and create a life for them. Eventually, Jaskier seemed to have calmed down and one hand came up to cover Geralt’s in a tender gesture. His eyes filled with tears again. Geralt hated seeing his buttercup so upset.

“I’m sorry, Geralt. I’m so sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay Jaskier, I’m he-“

Geralt did not get a chance to finish his sentence that Jaskier had picked up the gun and pulled the trigger, sending a bullet through Geralt’s thigh and taking him by surprise long enough for Jaskier to scramble to his feet and race for the door. Geralt roared in pain, but he quickly regained his composure and tried to pull himself up using the kitchen aisle as leverage. Jaskier had taken the gun with him. When Geralt was on his feet, Jaskier was already gone. There was no use in trying to pursue him, not when he was injured, but Geralt was not overly worried.

He would find Jaskier one way or another.

His precious buttercup, who was obviously not such a delicate flower after all.

[fangirleaconmigo]

I was going to ask about Library Geraskier, but I see someone beat me to it, so now I have a burning need to find out about Geralt Jus Needs To Go Home :D

Hello darling xoxo. 

As before, these standalone WIPs are super smutty. Filth I tell you. And this one involves all the Kaer Morhen witchers. So. Only read if you’re in the mood for smut.

The idea behind Geralt Just Needs To Go Home is basically a little bit of an inversion of the dynamic we see on the show. A tiny tweak, if you will.

Geralt and Jaskier meet, yes, Jaskier finds him scorchingly hot and a perfect muse, but is actually pretty wary about anything more than a possible fling. Geralt is too closed off. Too gruff. 

Jaskier is like, nah, I need someone who will do better than grunt and call me an idiot to Queen Calanthe.

So imagine his surprise when they go to Kaer Morhen, and Geralt is sooooo soft for Eskel and Lambert. He’s like their pet.  They dote on him and Geralt just goes nuts for it.

And they’re like ‘so you’re the one who won’t give our sweet pup the time of day’ and Jaskier is just like *shocked face*

Then of course one day he sees something he’s not supposed to. (Or is he)

Is it too late for Jaskier to change his view of Geralt and get in on all the winter shenanigans?

------

The other witchers look him up and down appraisingly.  They are courteous.  Good hosts. But he gets the uneasy feeling he’s been found wanting.

He isn’t sure why. So he redoubles his efforts to be a good guest.  He offers to clean up. To take a turn making dinner. He’s always rebuffed.  Thank you but it’s not necessary. Vesemir makes an effort to sit with him when he’s alone.  He feels like he’s being pitied but he can’t quite figure out why or what the fuck is going on.  He didn’t know witchers were capable of passive aggression but Lambert and Eskel. Well. What was really going on?

And Geralt? Well he was still Geralt wasn’t he? But not exactly. The first time Lambert pets his hair and calls him pretty boy, Jaskier braces himself for a brotherly scuffle. Witcher on Witcher violence. Or at least a sharp word. But Geralt fucking purrs. PURRS. Accepts the affection like it’s the most natural thing in the world. Like Jaskier hasn’t seen him grunting and walking away from any person who compliments him over the past seven months. 

Then there’s Eskel. Eskel teases Geralt about being fancy. Geralt, the dirty scruffy Witcher who sleeps on rocks most nights.

Geralt softens.  He accepts their affections. He sits on Eskel’s lap and lets his head fall onto the man’s shoulders. He cooks Lambert’s favorite food.  He’s perhaps not complimenting them. But he’s showing it. He’s showing in the sweetest ways.

And Jaskier can’t lie. He feels a little left out. Geralt doesn’t allow them to leave him out completely. But he doesn’t try particularly hard to make them show more warmth or approval. Jaskier lives in this - guest we’re happy to have but you are not one of us- space for weeks. As far as Lambert or Eskel are concerned anyway. 

Geralt begins hovering around him a little more. Does he want a blanket, he knows humans get cold so easily? Yes. Thank you. I saved a steak for you because these ruffians were going to eat them all. Oh gods yes thank you. Geralt sat with his brothers but when he looked at Jaskier something glimmered in his eyes Jaskier couldn’t really translate.

Honestly, for someone who’s specialty was reading human behavior, the witcher stuff was confounding him at the moment. 

Then one day.

Then one day Jaskier goes out onto the balcony and he hears grunting below in the courtyard.  Geralt is on hands and knees.  Grunting softly.  Eskel fucking into him from behind. Stroking his hair.

“Beautiful boy,” purrs Eskel. “You take me so good.”

And Geralt. Oh Geralt. Eyes soft as petals.  Back arched. Ass stuck out. Purring sweetly.

“Is this how you want me Eskel? Like this?”

“Yes baby.  You’re perfect. Doin it just like I asked. You’re so good for me.”

“I love you.” whispered Geralt.

“I know pup.  Now show me how much you love me.” 

Eskel pulls his cock out and strokes quickly as Geralt turns and tilts his head up, sticking out his tongue.

Eskel spends his seed on Geralt’s tongue. His chin.

Jaskier spends in his pants. Then he scrambles back into the room off of the balcony and out of sight.  He trips and sprains something. 

Later, he limps into the dining hall and Eskel and Lambert stop talking. They smirk into their bowls and eat deliberately.

“Hello witchers.”

“Hey Jask,” says Geralt.  He’s sitting on the floor between Lambert’s legs, head leaned back on his crotch. Lambert is petting his hair and occasionally reaching down to feed him a grape.  Then Lambert curls his hand around Geralt’s chin, tugging it up. He leans down and presses his tongue into Geralt’s mouth for a  filthy probing kiss. Geralt’s adams apple bobs as he tries to take it all.

Jaskier realizes Eskel is watching him in amusement.

“New pants?  Hey are you limping?  Rough morning?”

Honestly what in the ever loving fuck was going on in this place?

------

WIP Game

[buffskierights]

from the recent writer askmeme you reblogged, questions 2 + 4 if you're interested :3

(2) Tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

I’m plotting out a massive fic right now (maybe not massive in length, i don’t know yet, but massive in the amount of prep required for this one) about Witcher!Jaskier and Geralt being involved in a murder mystery aboard a train. The fic also involves Witcher Politics (inspired by the politics of Forever Wanting More) and will be an enemies to friends to lovers soulmate AU!

(4) Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

I couldn’t choose just one so I chose two. The first is technically several paragraphs but it’s a passage from the most recent chapter of Scarlet Gladiolus and the second is a small passage from my most popular fic The Devil Go With All

Jaskier scowls and brings his hands up, planting them firmly on Geralt’s chest and shoving him away, “You absolute bastard , Geralt,” he snarls, shakily getting to his feet to tower over the Witcher, “You think I don’t know about all of my flaws? You think you’re miserable in my company? Try being me, arsehole! I live with what I’ve done every single day, the blood on my hands, the red in my ledger I can never wash clean. I’ll happily own up to my mistakes, but I will not take responsibility for yours!”

Geralt is looking up at him from his place on the ground with wide eyes as Jaskier shakes with barely contained rage, his heart beating golden in his chest, “I’m tired of being your chew toy! Your actions have consequences, Geralt of Rivia, and it’s time you stop pushing those consequences off onto me! I deserve more than that, whether you love me… hell, whether you fucking tolerate me or not! I deserve better than that! I am better!

“I should have never let your filthy insults hang over me as long as they did. And who’s the worse for it? Me! I was beating myself up for so long over things that I had no control over! And I shouldn’t be doing that, I’m tired of it. I’m fucking exhausted and I don’t want to feel like shit every single day anymore, Geralt,” he’s stopped yelling, his hoarse voice lowering back to a tired croak, “I deserve better than that, too. And I deserve better than a fucking hallucination of my best friend telling me how much of a piece of shit I am.”

Jaskier takes a few heaving breaths, ignoring how they catch in his chest and tickle his throat to try and make him cough up more blood, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have this lovely darkness to contemplate. It’s really quite the mood-setter, and the complete silence? Provides the perfect ambience for going insane. Which I must have if I’m seeing you when I can’t see anything else.” He closes his eyes, leans back against the wall, and slides to the floor as his shaking knees give out and the adrenaline rush of his anger fades.

I’m really proud of that passage, not because it’s my most beautiful passage I’ve ever written, but because it sets the tone for the rest of the fic in regards to Jaskier’s confidence in himself. He’s been living in the shadow of this imagined version of Geralt, who holds disdain for him and judges him for his decisions, for so long and he’s finally standing up for himself here.

“Ready?” Yennefer walks over to them and Julian takes a deep breath, nervously glancing at the three adults.

“Will it hurt?”

Yennefer smiles softly as she taps Jaskier’s forehead, putting him to sleep and then turning to the boy, “Not at all, little one.”

And then Julian is laid to rest.

Now this bit, hoo boy. I had that last line planned for weeks! The double entendre of sleeping/dying was deliberate as it’s the end of Julian’s story and also the metaphorical end of Jaskier’s horrific childhood being dredged up. It’s both very sad and freeing at the same time and I’m really happy with how many people liked this passage.

Thank you for asking me these! 

Writer’s Asks

[fromkaermorhentolettenhove]

The Eternity of Bliss - Chapter 5

Previous - Next

Chapter Summary: Things take a turn for the worse, but somehow Geralt and Jaskier find the time to become closer

Chapter Rating: G-T

Words: 2642

-

AO3

or

The next days saw more clusters, more creatures leaving Geralt and Jaskier exhausted by the end of it. 

It had been a couple of months now with this new normal, but Jaskier wouldn’t ever be used to this.  That is, he could take monsters any day. Geralt’s silence was a whole other matter. They had their friendly chats, the comfort with each other growing by the day. Yet, after all this time, Jaskier wasn’t sure he knew Geralt at all. So many questions were met with grunts and shrugs, Jaskier was now toying with the idea of reaching out to others just to gain some understanding of this brooding man.

However, the only others he could talk to were currently busy with council matters and that was adding even more stress to Jaskier’s already hectic life. There had been little from Headquarters in the past week, nothing beyond sector assignments. Something had to be happening, surely, the silence ominous as the two men waited for a word. Any word. 

When at last a message came, the men wasted no time in going to Headquarters, once again occupying a room Jaskier was now no stranger to. 

Yennefer and Triss looked nervous as they entered, as if they wanted to hide their faces from all who looked at them. It was Triss who took the stand first, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. 

“We couldn’t stop the spirit. It was too strong and we were not prepared. It has found a host.”

Jaskier’s stomach twisted. Now, their fates were almost inevitable and it was coming down to him and Geralt to save two worlds. 

“The host is a child. The princess of Cintra.”

A hush fell over the room. Jaskier could feel eyes on him, but he kept his gaze on the two women. Yennefer spared a glance in Jaskier’s direction, an unreadable expression as she didn’t look away. Her stare flicked between him and Geralt before she addressed the room.

“We’ve been able to keep her from the border for now, but she grows stronger by the day. We need even more of you to return to our world as reinforcement.”

Immediately a rush of hands went up and soon Yennefer and Triss were collecting the names of those who were ready to risk their lives. Once the meeting was over, Triss led Geralt and Jaskier into a smaller room, Yennefer eventually trailing behind. 

“You know what we’re asking of you, Geralt,” Triss addressed him as if Jaskier wasn’t there.

“Yes,” Geralt responded, his shoulders tight. 

Jaskier glanced between the three hoping for an answer. The turning of his stomach did nothing to help his frenzied mind, his confusion of being left out. This was important, but no one was telling him why. Their hushed conversation was a flame, sparking doubt Jaskier thought he was long rid of.

“I think it’s best if you hear it from Geralt,” Yennefer broke Jaskier’s spiraling mood. “Sometimes, Triss and I spare too many of the details.”

Geralt left abruptly then, leaving Jaskier no choice but to follow him with a groan. Before they could get far, Jaskier stopped Geralt grabbing onto his wrist. Damn the consequences, he needed answers.

“Why did they all stare at you, Geralt?” Jaskier jumped in. “What’s going on?”

Answering took too long. Geralt pursed his lips, a fear swarming in his eyes, though unbreaking from Jaskier’s own stare. At last, Geralt took a breath and ducked his head.

“Because I’m linked to the princess. Ever since her parents’ death, she’s been my responsibility.”

Jaskier blinked. He had heard of situations like this before but he had never been so close to one of the people involved. “Then why isn’t she here with you?”

“She’s safer in the other world,” Geralt stated as if that was the obvious answer.

“And on her own? Geralt, really. She’s a child.”

“I can’t hurt her too,” Geralt bit. 

Jaskier’s frustrations were slowly bubbling to the surface and it was becoming difficult to keep them at bay. “So, it’s better to leave her to fend for herself–alone and scared–than you making a few mistakes?”

“You don’t understand.”

“Then, help me understand,” Jaskier’s voice rose with exasperation. “Don’t shut me out, Geralt. You think I haven’t been thrust into the most ridiculous situations? That I haven’t felt some of the worst fears known to man?”

Regret shone in Geralt’s eyes. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“–Of course not,” Jaskier grumbled. “So easy to forget pain when it’s not your own.”

Geralt sighed, his gaze turning downward. There was that silence again, the tautness of Geralt’s jaw that showed his struggle to talk. Jaskier wanted to say something, to get Geralt to speak, but that would only lead to more silence and anger. 

Jaskier waited, picking at his fingernails, doing everything he could to distract his impatience. When he heard a sharp inhale of breath, Jaskier whipped his head to Geralt and waited. 

“I’ve never been good with people. With anyone. Not Yennefer or Triss, not my brothers, not even the man I consider my father. All I see is the pain and disappointment I’ve caused, the way I’ve tried to make things right, only to fail in the end.”

Geralt closed his eyes, his brows wrought with concern. Jaskier pursed his lips, heart wrenching in his chest, and he reached out, placing a gentle hand on Geralt’s arm. 

“I don’t want Ciri to end up like me. I don’t want her looking at me the way I’ve seen others do,” Geralt spoke, his voice just above a whisper.

Jaskier’s eyes flickered down as his hand moved to take hold of Geralt’s. When the man didn’t pull away, Jaskier ran a thumb over his knuckles, noting all the small scars that lined his skin. 

“You should give her a chance,” Jaskier began. “As she would give you. As I’ve given you.”

“What do you mean?” Geralt frowned, his golden eyes now piercing into Jaskier. 

“You haven’t disappointed me. I mean, you’ve let your emotions say some harsh things, but I don’t hate you and I certainly don’t care for you any less from when we first met,” Jaskier admitted. 

Heat rose to his face, a need to run grew, but Jaskier stood his ground and didn’t tear his gaze away. It was now Geralt who hesitated, an unusual sorrow glistening in his eyes.

“If you knew what I’ve done–” 

“–Would you do it again?” Jaskier interrupted and when Geralt gave a small shake of his head, Jaskier squeezed his hand. “Then, I don’t care about your past. I don’t care what you used to be. You’ve learned from your mistakes and you’re trying to be better, right?”

Geralt seemed reluctant to agree to this, but his grip on Jaskier’s hand tightened. 

“Once Ciri and the spirit are subdued, we are seeing her immediately,” Jaskier said with resolution. “You are bringing her here and raising her like she has always been your daughter.”

There was confusion swarming in Geralt’s eyes, but he gave a nod all the same, his face relaxing bit by bit. Jaskier hoped this meant a sign of trust and he tried to take back his hand

To his surprise, Geralt did not let go right away, his expression dropping just so. There was a moment where neither man knew what to do, but it was Geralt who cleared his throat and backed away from Jaskier. 

“Not used to…” Geralt trailed off, motioning to the empty space between himself and Jaskier. 

“Oh, I’ll ask next time,” Jaskier was quick to remedy the situation. “I can’t help but touch others in affectionate ways. Keeps me grounded and it seems to help them as well.”

“It did,” Geralt reassured. “I...wouldn’t mind if you did it again. You wouldn’t have to ask.”

Jaskier blushed at this, but still smiled at Geralt, wondering what else was hidden under his serious facade. If this little bit of positivity was enough to make Geralt happy, then Jaskier was more than willing to accommodate. 

“Let’s go home then,” Jaskier took Geralt’s hand once more. 

When a strong grip overtook his own, Jaskier followed where Geralt led. There really was nowhere else he would rather be.

~

Persuading Geralt to talk more about his life was more of a challenge than Jaskier was expecting. He wouldn’t say much, even with bribes, leaving Jaskier to fill in the details. 

“So, they’re not actually your brothers?”

Geralt shook his head. “We went through trials together. I suppose at the core we are, but not by blood, Melitele forbid.”

“They’re that bad?” Jaskier laughed over his cup of coffee. 

“Worse.”

“I suppose I should be lucky to have three sisters then,” Jaskier grinned. 

He set his cup down and leaned against the couch he and Geralt were seated on. Whether it was loneliness or contentment, the two were spending many of their days out in the living room, content in the presence of each other.

“I think any amount of siblings is a trial in itself,” Geralt smirked. “Are you the oldest?”

“To my parents’ relief, yes,” Jaskier scowled a bit. “I mean, I’m glad to be the oldest for my sisters’ sakes as well. At least I’ll be the one auctioned off for arranged marriages before any of them.”

Geralt frowned at this. “I thought we were well past that on the continent.”

“Well, I suppose my parents are stubborn. They love me, yes, though with courtly negotiations, there won’t be much choice,” Jaskier shrugged. 

He had come to terms with this understanding. His family would try to avoid it at all costs, but if it came down to such a primitive situation, Jaskier wanted to make sure his sisters didn’t have to endure any of that hardship. 

“Hm.” Geralt did not seem happy with this answer and Jaskier could see him plotting something in the back of his mind. 

“No assassinating my parents,” Jaskier patted Geralt’s knee. “They are good to me in every other aspect.”

This was met with another grunt, but Jaskier didn’t want either of them to dwell in this. 

“All right, how much experience have you had with raising a child?”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at this. “Not...much. I can hold a baby without dropping it.”

Jaskier bit back a laugh and carded a hand through his hair. “Well, let’s say Ciri comes to live here and she comes home crying because some other children were mean to her. What would you do?”

“Strangle them.”

“Geralt, you can’t strangle children.”

“Strangle them lightly.”

It was then Jaskier realized Geralt was just teasing him and he gave the man a playful smack. “I need honesty, Geralt. For the sake of all the children in the world.”

“I suppose I would...try to comfort her. Make her favorite foods, let her tell me everything.”

“Good, that’s very good,” Jaskier nodded. “Did anyone ever do that for you?”

“I thought we were talking about Ciri,” Geralt muttered, suddenly shifting away from Jaskier. 

Making a note in the back of his mind, Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s hand. “We are, but I want to make sure you’re okay too. Being a Hunter surely hasn’t been easy and now you’ve got parenthood coming your way.”

“I’ll ask you for any help I might need then,” Geralt gave a nod. 

Jaskier smiled shyly at this, imagining summon spells at the wee hours of the morning, Geralt getting frantic over something as small as a scraped knee. 

“I’ll be here,” Jaskier replied. 

Geralt stared at him then and Jaskier let another meaning behind the words sink into him. Would he always be here? Jaskier had gotten used to this place as his home, hardly giving any thought back to his abandoned flat. The very idea of it seemed so lonely now and to not see Geralt every day was now a new fear Jaskier never had before. 

“You can always come to me whenever you need a place to stay.”

Jaskier was convinced Geralt could read minds. He let out a small awkward laugh, but when Geralt’s expression didn’t change, Jaskier started to believe him. 

“I suppose I might be here for a while until I get used to living alone again,” Jaskier admitted, trying to hide the blush that was creeping up to his face. 

“I wouldn’t mind.”

This was almost too much. Jaskier wanted to shout his feelings to the world, that he had come to see Geralt as a dear friend. His fear was the only thing holding him back and he let out a shaky breath as Geralt’s stare did not falter. 

Friendship wasn’t something to be embarrassed by, but Jaskier had jumped to conclusions too many times before. People he trusted, had given his life to, had treated him like dirt, his trust nothing more than something to be used. Jaskier knew Geralt wasn’t going to do any of those things, but he was still afraid. Hesitation would always be a familiar discomfort in his life and he tried to think of something else to say, to distract them from the way the air had stiffened. 

“Would you get a pet if Ciri wanted one?” Jaskier winced a little at this, but right now, talking about Ciri was his saving grace. 

“Of course,” Geralt shrugged. “I’ve been wanting to get a dog for a while now. I just haven’t had the time.”

“Do you think Roach would be jealous?” Jaskier teased, feeling his stuttered heartbeat coming back to its usual calm.

“She’ll get over it,” Geralt sighed. “At any rate, she’s more jealous over the people I meet than any animal.”

“Oh, then I certainly don’t want to get in the way of that,” Jaskier laughed. 

“She’ll like you,” Geralt said with certainty. 

Jaskier bit his lip and fiddled around with the buttons on his vest. Geralt had intentions of introducing him to Roach, of going back to the magical world with him. It was a relief to know that Geralt didn’t want to be rid of him so soon. 

“Where is she now?” Jaskier asked, still avoiding Geralt’s eyes. 

“Kaer Morhen. My guardian, Vesemir, is taking care of her.”

“It sounds like I’ll have a whole group to meet when we go back home,” Jaskier joked. “I suppose I’ll let my family know about you as well. I have to warn you, my sisters are insufferable.”

“I’m sure I can handle them,” Geralt pressed his leg against Jaskier’s. 

Jaskier swallowed at this, clearing his throat too loudly as he tried to calm down his raging mind. Here was Geralt, the mighty Hunter, showing a sensitive side of himself, perhaps showing Jaskier what so many others longed to see. 

In this moment, he felt special. Geralt had chosen him of all people. The warmth of Geralt’s touch was the only thought soon occupying Jaskier’s mind and he was tempted to reach out, to pull Geralt in close. 

His body betrayed him and Jaskier sat with his hands in his lap, steadying his breathing. 

“I’ll get started on cooking,” Geralt interrupted Jaskier’s thoughts. 

“Oh, yes,” Jaskier blinked, watching as Geralt got to his feet. 

Several dishes floated themselves into the kitchen and Geralt followed, but not before letting his hand run across Jaskier’s shoulders. Jaskier shivered and stared at the man’s retreating back, dying to know what expression his face held. 

It could’ve just been a friendly touch. Surely that was all it was. Jaskier attempted to convince himself of this, occasionally glancing at Geralt in the other room. When Geralt’s gaze met his own and didn’t break, Jaskier knew all was a lost cause. 

There was something there, something that sat on the edge of terrifying and exciting. Jaskier wasn’t sure if he was ready, but then again, who ever was?