#geralt doesn't get either of them if he doesn't learn to be gentle

[flowercrown-bard]

My headcanons for which Witcher would like doing which hobby (aka. me projecting my own hobbies onto them)

Geralt - whittling: it's just practical. He's probably already carrying a knife and there's plenty of wood to be found in the forests. For whittling, you can do rough cuts or you can add details and be gentle with the wood. You can either get lost in repetitive motions and sounds or you can make yourself concentrate really hard. I think the duality of it is perfect for mr "i don't choose sides"

Eskel - knitting: out or all the wolves, he's the one who looks the most frightening but also the kindest and most polite one (If i remember correctly, in the books Ciri was afraid of him when she saw him, but he's really polite to Triss and asks her for help). I think he wouldn't go with a craft like whittling, because he doesn't want people to see him handle something as dangerous as knives for fun. Knitting is about the least intimidating craft. It's associated with grandmas and once he's done, he has something soft and warm, just how he would like to be perceived. Also he's from the hillfolk and i headcanon that his family used to make wool themselves so he working with wool reminds him of his childhood

Lambert - drawing: people don't expect him to have the patience for drawing or the appreciation for beautiful things. So learning how to draw started out as a big fuck you to anyone who dared assume they knew anything about Lambert. Yes, he's full of anger and can be aggressive. But much of his anger is directed at the people who made him a witcher. He hates being a witcher and everything that's associated with that, so for him, picking up an artform like drawing is an act of rebellion. Secretly, it also has a different use: Lambert lost so people. His family, Volthere. Maybe Lambert is afraid of one day forgetting what those people looked like, so he makes sure to drae a picture of everyone he likes, so he can have something to remember them by if they die before him

Vesemir - cooking: his family deserves nice warm meals when they come home. And in a strange way experimenting with herbs is a way for him to cope with the experiments he used to do on the trainees before. It's learning to take this curiosity and ability to combine things and using them for something good and happiness-inducing instead of using it to mutate children

Bonus: Aiden - Embroidery: being able to use needle and thread to fix things is just very useful and with embroidery you get to stab something a thousand times

[mavreads]

5 times Yennefer leaned in on Jaskier and the one time he did. + Featuring halfelf!jaskier because I refuse to believe he is fully human.

1.

Lambert doesn't trust the witch. Not even a little bit. Sure as hell not now that she got her powers back.

Everytime she wiggles her fingers he gets an unsettling feeling in his core. And he hates it. And he hates how everyone seems to have forgotten that she is the reason for their brothers death.

Voleth Meir possessed Ciri because of her. And nobody seems to remember.

"Don't rush it, Cirilla, magic takes time" it's like the third time now she's said it, and somewhere deep inside he can admit that Cirilla is in fact trying to rush through todays training, but it's starting to grate on his nerves nonetheless and he has to stop himself from throwing the rag he's using at the witch's head.

It's not a good idea, he knows, doesn't mean it's not tempting.

The princess is getting increasingly frustrated but the witch doesn't seem to tire. She's a fine teacher, he'll give her that. Not that he'd ever admit it out loud, let that be clear.

He's been done with his sword for a while but he'll be damned if he leaves them alone; to hell what geralt thinks of her.

He knows the witch doesn't like him being there, she seems nervous somehow, if not nervous at least uneasy and that brings him more satisfaction than it probably should. But he really doesn't have it in himself to care about her feelings.

"Don't lose your temper, focus on the outcome" Ciri slumps on the ground, frustration clear on her features. "It's no use, if I'm not in danger it just won't come" the witch features soften when she glances at the princess and lowers herself on the ground next to her.

"You know, contrary to popular belief, I was in your place once. Stop looking at me like that, I was. No matter how hard I tried Chaos wouldn't come to me. And it was so frustrating I wanted to give up. So many times it's kind of a miracle I'm here now." Lambert doesn't exactly believe her, but her heartbeat hasn't changed, so there must be at least some truth in her words. But Cirilla is looking at her in a soft kind of way. Like she can see the truth in her words, like it makes sense for the witch to have gone through that.

It doesn't, if you ask Lambert. But whatever helps Cirilla is welcome, even if it comes from that witch. And Cirilla is getting up to try again, so it does help her.

They go on for a while and the witch seems confident that, if they keep going, Ciri will be able to perform whatever spell they're trying perfectly by the end of the day.

And they're still trying when a soft music distracts them. Cirilla looks up from her hands, briskly smiling at the newcomer. Jaskier bows a little like he always does for Cirilla and then proceeds to unceremoniously sit on the ground and start plucking at his lute.

Lambert almost misses it, the way the witch smiles softly at the troubadour even when he isn't looking. It's a strange thing, he knows from Geralt that the two don't have a history of exactly going along. But there's no other way to read her expression. She looks more at ease now that he's here.

It bugs him for the rest of their training, that soft look and the way the witch is smiling a little more now. He trusts the bard, has no reason not to, but the fact that the witch seems to like him makes him suspicious of things he might have missed about him.

Surely there's something wrong with him if the witch likes him.

So he spends the next hour or so observing the bard closely, to try and see what it is that the witch sees. To find what he's missed.

He has nothing, when an hour later Vesemir calls Cirilla in.

He's gonna follow the princess in, he really is, but then the witch walks directly up to the bard and stand in front of him, waiting.

It takes almost less than a moment for Jaskier to react, he stops playing and puts his lute to the side looking up at the witch with a soft expression.

"Draining you, isn't she?" there's no malice in the bard's voice while the witch sits next to him.

Lambert was going to follow Cirilla in, he was. But now he wants to hear what they have to say to each other.

"She's doing her best, really. But I feel like I'm doing something wrong" the witch mumbles, it feels heavy, like an admission, like she had to fight herself to say it outloud. "You're doing your best too, darling, stop being hard on yourself"

The witch smiles and then something Lambert would have never expected happens. She leans on him. Her head on his lap and her back on the hard ground, and Jaskier doesn't look surprised either. He just keeps smiling at her and then his hands reach her hair and he starts threading his fingers through it.

Lambert leaves then. Not willing to know how far the affection between them actually goes.

He's confused, quite a lot actually; but he doesn't mention it. Not even to Geralt, not even when he sees them coming in sometime later, both wearing twin smiles, not even when they keep sharing conspiratory glances. Sure as hell not when they leave together after dinner.

He's not getting involved, thank you very much. That's Geralt mess.

2.

"So now your father is insisting Geralt demands something, anything in return for saving his life - Ciri knows how the story goes, but she sits nicely next to her friend listening avidly- and what does our witcher do then? He claims the law of surprise. Which I might add, considering the shit show that just went down was kind of a dumb thing to do, if you happen to ask me." The princess giggles at that, that's not how he told the story last time; but then again, Jaskier never sticks to the same version of a story twice.

"He did get quite the surprise in the end." The bard adds as an afterthought, smiling brightly at her.

Ciri still feels sorry for how she treated him when they first met, she knows that Jaskier holds no resentment over it, but still. He was just trying to be amicable and she dismissed him completely.

And she really wants to make up for it, if just for the fact that she knows Geralt still hasn't apologised properly to her new friend and at least one of them has to be nice to him.

Jaskier deserves it. Because he does his best to keep her happy and careless, in the rare moments they get that is; because he takes care of her in a way nobody else at the keep manages. Because he makes her feel like her old life is not completely lost.

And he tells her stories, so many of them. Some about her grandmother's deeds, some about her mother's life before her.

It's weird, thinking that he knew her. Especially since he never told anyone but her. It's their secret, he says as he tells her how her mother loved daffodils above all other flowers. It's their secret, while he lists the books her mother used to love. It's their secret, the way she used to sneak away in the night to meet him in the gardens and talk about pointless nothings till morning. It's their secret, her dream to see the coast one day. It's their secret, how she wrote about a cursed lover in every last letter she sent out for him. It's their secret, how she met him right before his performance to bid him good luck and steal a story about the White wolf that had followed him into her kingdom.

It's their secret, and Ciri loves him for it. Getting to keep these little things for herself makes her feel closer to her mother than ever.

She has questions, though. Things she heard in passing that keep bothering her. Things she's scared to ask because what if she hurts him and he stops telling stories?

"You know, if you ever need somebody to talk to I can listen too, when I put my mind to it" how he manages it, it's still a mystery for her, but the Bard always knows what she needs. Decades spent reading a crowd, he will say anytime she asks. She doesn't press, he'll tell her one day, at his pace.

"What do you know about a djinn?" She knows it's the wrong thing to ask the moment Jaskier smile falters. It's a second, but it's still a second too much for him.

She goes for an apology when Jaskier starts his story. He smiles through it all, never faltering. But it's his stage smile, the one he puts on when Geralt is in the room, the one that never reaches his eyes.

The story in itself feels like a lot more serious than what he makes of it, but she can't fault him for that; he always does it for her benefit anyway.

"And that's how Yen and Geralt found themselves tied by a shared destiny" Jaskier ends the story solemnly but he's grinning at her. And she's smiling too, because really how could she not when Jaskier just painted Geralt as the biggest idiot on the continent?

"How do you do it?" it's sudden, and she really doesn't know what she wants to ask, but he's here and he's looking at her like he'll tell her anything she asks; and nobody ever does that so openly, so of course she has to ask.

Jaskier is confused, tilts his head and asks her to explain. The question she had before is different from the one she ends up asking, but it's even more valid.

"How did you keep your heart? After everything you saw with Geralt, and alone. How did you not lose your humanity?" and that's the point, isn't it? Jaskier is so important to her because he's human. So much she forgets he's not, not actually. So much she regrets ever wanting to become emotionless like what witchers should be.

"It's a matter of spite, really." he starts, she wants to laugh but knows him enough to know that now's not the right moment. "The world out there is cruel, you saw it. And the people are too." She's never heard his voice so somber and she wants to stop him, just to hear his light tunes again; but he goes on, against the lump in his throat,

"The world will do its best to take away your heart, eat at your soul until there's nothing left. And sometimes it will feel like letting them win is easier. But in those times you have to ask yourself: are you willing to lose yourself to someone else's wish?" It's pointless, shaking her head, he knows the answer already. But she needs to do it, confirm that he does know her, that she is not willing to lose herself, ever, especially not for someone else to see. "That's what you have to hang onto. That fire. You're stronger that what the world does to you, and you're more than what destiny made of you. Keep it, if just to spite those who want to see you break."

She's not crying, but it's a close thing. He looks at her, and he knows it too. Jaskier opens his arms for her to hide in, and she crashes onto his chest, letting his arms ground her.

"Mind if I join?" she doesn't know how much time she spent in his arms when the door opens. Yennefer is smiling at them, there's an edge to her entire being and she looks exhausted. Outside the door she can see Geralt, on the other side of the corridor, he's fuming and it doesn't take her long to know they fought again.

"Of course not, dearest, come. There's enough space for the three of us on the bed." Yennefer closes the door behind her and Ciri is ready to move so that she can take her place. But Jaskier just moves her to one side while Yennefer wordlessly sits on the other.

Jaskier has barely the time to lift his arm for her, when Yennefer leans on him, her head in the crook of his neck and the bard's arm around her shoulders. She looks calm, calmer than what she's used to seeing her; and Ciri smiles at that. Yen deserve some peace and calm.

She's unsure of what to do, when Jaskier tightens his hold on her just so and she shuffles closer sighing into the hug.

It's weird, the way Jaskier presses Yennefer closer too; or the way his face is turned into her head, his lips grazing her hair. It's even more weird, the way Yennefer goes boneless against him, letting him support her weight entirely.

It feels safe, staying like this. She's aware that technically her and Yennefer are the powerful ones, she knows that it's them that could keep Jaskier safe against anything. But right now, Jaskier feels safe, his arms the closest thing to peace for either or them, and she feels small, like she's a kid hiding from Mausesack all over again.

She has it in herself to be worried about Geralt, but it doesn't last long, can't, with how Jaskier resumed his babbling just to distract them.

She expects Yennefer to say something, shush him even. But she just smiles in his neck and closes her eyes.

It's peaceful, like this. And it's just what they need.

3.

Vesemir finds her in the library. An open book on her crossed legs and her head pressed against the cold wall. To say he's surprised is an understatement.

He knew to find her there, he wasn't expecting to find her asleep is all. She must have been exhausted if it happened.

What doesn't surprise him, however, is how much of her dignity she keeps, even while unconscious. The grace she carries herself with during the day still present even in her softened limbs, her expression guarded even in her slumber.

He sees it, the power Geralt speaks of; even if she does her best to withhold its full extent. Her power is in her every word, movement and glance. Only a fool would treat her with anything but utmost respect.

Even Lambert does, for all his distrust.

He's careful when he shakes her lightly. Doesn't want to spook her or anything. Her eyes flutter open and she looks back at him, she doesn't seem to see him at first. Then with a start she regains the rigidity in her body, her eyes clearer and the softest blush on her cheeks.

She clears her throat, getting up. But her legs wobble under her and he reaches his hand out, not daring to touch her but offering nonetheless. She looks embarrassed, but refuses to cower under his eyes.

Smiles and takes his arm while he offers to walk her back to the room she's staying in. She must be more exhausted than what he thought, because she nods and motions for him to walk her with the hand currently not entangled in his arm.

The walk to her room is not a long one but they manage to run into Jaskier and Geralt on their way.

Whatever Jaskier was going to say gets lost the moment they turn the corner. The bard looks their way and huffes at them. He doesn't turn to dismiss Geralt, just walks up to them and greets him.

Vesemir smiles at the colourful troubadour. He likes the child, can see why Geralt kept him around for so many years. What he can't wrap his head around is how someone that looks so soft and amicable managed to get accustomed to the Path and all it entails.

He knows that the answer is probably in the way the man looks barely past twenty even after two decades with Geralt; it lies in the subtle way his ears are just slightly pointed, in the way he understands Yennefer when she speaks elder and in the way he answers. He knows the answer lies plainly in front of his eyes. But if Geralt was able to ignore it for more than twenty years then so can he.

He was going to keep walking Yennefer to her room, when the witch calls out to the artist in the smallest way.

Jaskier turns to her immediately upon hearing her voice, tilts his head and, just like he first did in the library, holds his hands out. Waiting.

He wasn't expecting Yennefer to just reach out and take ahold of it, or to grip his forearm with the other hand; wasn't expecting the bard to put a hand on her back, smiling, and start guiding her to her room.

He's even more surprised when Yennefer gets closer to him, puts her head on his shoulder, and leans on him. All without stopping in her tracks. It looks so casual, and so familiar too. Like something they're used to.

He can hear Jaskier lively voice humming softly to her, and he can still hear it when they turn the corner. That too seems something they do a lot.

He then turns to his wolf. Geralt is staring at where the two disappeared, head dipped and fists clenched.

He doesn't know what was going on between him and the bard, doesn't know how to ask even. He doesn't have to ask though. Geralt's voice is small, he's whispering, when he says. It's a confession, a painful one. One Vesemir doesn't know how to take.

He's lost him.

That's what Geralt says, in the silence of a lonely corridor. It takes him by surprise, that his focus is on the bard and not on the witch. That what hurt Geralt wasn't the absolute trust the witch showed the other man, but the way he was so easily dismissed by a man that once hung onto his every world.

He doesn't think there's anything he could say to make it better, so he just clasps his hand on the Wolf's shoulder and pushes him towards his room.

Vesemir vows to never tell Geralt that he saw Jaskier come out of Yennefer room the next morning. Whatever is going on, is not his business.

4.

It's been months, since the last time she saw Yennefer, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't worried.

Now, talking to this strange man, she can't help but feel her magic. It's all around him, entangled in his own. He doesn't even seem to realise how unsettled she feels. Whoever this man is, he knows Yennefer, and they must be close.

"That's why I was hoping for your help, my generous lady?" the man ends his chattering with a small bow. And she nods. She doesn't really know what he's asking for but she will help him, if only to try and understand his relationship with Yennefer.

His cornflower blue eyes are another unsettling thing about him. There's magic that lies deep within them, a magic that's ancient and dangerous. A magic that chills her to her core. But the man smiles so brightly and so tenderly, even to her, that she's compelled to trust him.

The thing he's asking for, turns out, is very simple. And it happens to be an enormous revelation for her.

He asked for a way to share his energy with another magic user. A friend, he says. But there's no kind of friendship that could grant such a devotion, such a sacrifice.

It's not painful, but it leaves the other person drained, and it's usually a spell cast without consent. So there's two logical conclusions she gets to: either this man his deeply in love with the person he intends to share his energy with, or she just found the most generous man on the continent.

Either way, she's both surprised and worried at the certainty of this man's will, but she's not one to refuse helping. And she still hopes to gain any knowledge about Yennefer or her whereabouts.

It doesn't take more than an hour for the man to learn the spell. And in the entire hour he was able to not answer to any of her questions.

And it's not that he didn't speak, he actually did anything but stay silent; it's that, every time she would question him about the friend he plans on sharing his energy with, the man started prattling about friendship and it's importance, or sharing stories about golden dragons, or singing melodies she's heard somewhere but can't quite place.

He's a artful man, a wordsmith of sorts, one that twists words daily if she was to guess. Used to employing words to get where he wants, pushing the conversation away from him without ever stop talking.

And she's frustrated now. Because it can't be Yennefer, the magic user, since she lost her Chaos. So now Tissaia has to find another way to get the truth out of him.

She ends up following him to an Inn, once he leaves her. She is admittedly not good at disappearing but the man seems so lost in his thought that he doesn't realise he's being followed.

She enters after him, a spell concealing her apparence, another making her almost a ghost.

She sees him sit at a table with a young girl, with blonde hair and deep green eyes. And there's something about the girl, too. The same kind of power he seems to have, just stronger.

She sees him smile at her, always bright and tender, and sees the way the girl lights up at his presence. She's enthralled by them, the peace they project is a stark contrast to the power they both posses.

She's so focused on them that she doesn't realise another person entered the Inn until they pass in front of her table.

It's Yennefer, there's no doubt in her mind. She knows her to her core, and there's no mistaking The way she moves through the crowd, high and proud. The way she walks, sure and unyielding. The power emanating from her.

She's got her Chaos back, she knows before she even registers it. And suddenly everything she heard from the strange man with the cornflower eyes makes sense. No other witch in the continent would hunt a dragon.

She feels relieved, and angry; happy, and betrayed. There's so many emotions swirling through her brain she takes a moment to just observe her.

And then her certainty falters. Yennefer, or who she thought was Yennefer, reached the table with the strange man and the girl and she's leaning on him. Her front pressed to his back, one of her hands found her home on top of his head and the other on his shoulder, her arm across his chest.

Her touch so delicate while her shoulders lose their tension. Her face is hidden by her hood but strands of her hair are hanging loosely out of it, and when she lowers herself to rest her head on top of his the man moves it out of the way so carefully one would think it's the most precious thing in the world.

Yennefer stays like that for a couple minutes, not moving an inch. And then she removes her hand from his head and moves her face so that her nose is brushing his hair. The man smiles when her hands find the sides of his face and she presses a kiss to his hair.

Then he takes her wrists, ever so gently, and guides her to sit next to him. The smile slotted in place, as natural as ever.

She doesn't know Yennefer has spoken until he sees the man answer, she's too far away to hear him but his face keeps the softness he had with the girl.

But then Yennefer turns abruptly to him and slaps his arm, it's a small thing. Not really meant to do any damage. And the man grins at her, moving his hands all over; explaining the spell she taught him by the looks of it.

When Tissaia followed the man, she hoped she'd find Yennefer there. She wanted to talk to her, convince her to go back to the brotherhood with her; where she could keep her safe.

But now she's leaving the Inn. Yennefer hasn't even realised she was ever there. She's leaving the Inn, and she's also leaving behind the worry that has plagued her mind in the last months.

Yennefer is safe, she has her Chaos back, and she has the man with the cornflower blue eyes with her.

She might not know him, but she knows he'll keep her safe for her. The same way she knows the sun rises in the est and sets in the ovest.

5.

It started casually, after Voleth Meir.

The first time she found him she was exhausted and he was there, ready and tender. She was still regaining her full strength and didn't really trust anybody yet.

Jaskier was a safe place, warm; she knew he would keep her safe, even against a keep of witchers. Because that's what he did, that first time.

She had just healed Coen, when she felt her legs give out. She didn't even have to call out to him, Jaskier was already there, waiting.

It had been so easy to just lean on him then. So safe too. And he had been ready to shield her, from their looks, then. He put his body between her and them, gave her the time to regain her composure. She smiled up at him that first day. And then she never stopped.

Everytime she needed him, he was there, waiting. Ready to be the rock she'd lean on. A comforting word or a soft melody always at the ready. Babbling if he sensed she needed distracting, giving reassurance when everything else failed.

He saw her before, when he chaos failed her, and he kept seeing her after she got it back.

She's so grateful for him. Now more than ever. Hiding from Nilfgaard, her energy depleted, Ciri shaking and Geralt at a loss for what to do. She's grateful for the subtle magic enveloping the cave they're hiding in; she's grateful for the strong arms keeping her up now, and the lips pressed to her temple while he shares a little of his energy with her.

If she felt better, now, she'd tell him to stop. If she felt better she would push him away so that he wouldn't tire for her. She's not feeling better tough, and she's helpless against the confort he's offering. So she's leaning on him, now like always, letting him be her rock. Letting the comfort of his presence keep her safe. Letting the world disappear for a while, knowing he wouldn't let it see her like this.

And that's the point, really. He doesn't have to be stronger than her. That's not what he does, he hides her, when she can't be her strong self. He doesn't have to be stronger, he sees her weakness, and he makes sure it's their secret. He doesn't want to be strong with her, his touch is always tender, and his voice is always soft. He jabs at her only when he knows she can take it, only when he knows she can stand strong by herself.

Soft hand and calloused fingers have traced her arms and back countless times, providing comfort. His smile a safe harbour where she can shed her fears, and her nightmares. His voice, usually loud and demanding, becomes soft and tame when the world is too much for her to bare. She's pressed so much against his chest she knows he'll always catch her.

She barely registers anything outside of him, her eyes slowly closing, sleep calling at her. But he smiles against her, and nods. Lifts her a little and settles on the ground better, his back against the wall and his arms tight around her.

She barely registers Cirilla coming closer, sitting next to him, and placing her head on his shoulder. She barely registers one of his arm going to hold the girl closer. She barely registers Geralt's instruction to stay where they are. Before she knows it she's falling asleep to Jaskier's soft voice still close to her temple.

She wakes up sometime later. Ciri and Geralt on the other side of camp talking in low tunes. She wakes with her head on his lap, her back to the hard ground, and one of his hands combing through her hair. She smiles up at him before even opening her eyes, and when she does she finds him mirroring her expression.

"Welcome back love, how are you feeling?" groggy, would be her answer if they were alone; but they're not, and she has to appear stronger than she feels. Her weakness is for him to see and hide.

"I have slept in worse places, bard" his smile is conspiratory now. He knows what she means, and she smiles back. Turns to the two people across from her and smiles. Gets up, leans on him a little more; she just has to get the unsteadiness of sleep out of her limbs, is all. He doesn't complain though, but then he never does.

She's aware of Geralt eyes on them now, with her head where his heart is, and his legs around her. She knows he wants to ask, but she doesn't want him to. Scared that if someone points it out he will stop. He doesn't, when Ciri asks her if she wants to sleep on the bed roll.

Shakes her head and hugs herself closer to him. His arms around her hips now, and his head on her shoulder. Her back pressed to his front, and his touch still the most tender thing she ever felt.

He's holding her now, even if she's stronger. He's holding her now, shielding in ways nobody ever has. He's holding her now, just because he wants to.

+ 1.

Huh? Oh.

Oh.

This is bad.

Really bad.

It's stopped?

Why has it stopped?

This can't be good. Uh uh, it can't.

They must be planning something bad, something worse.

Shit.

Thanks the Gods for Yennefer spells.

Nobody's going into his mind again, thank you very much.

Sure as hell not this two fuckers.

It's cute though, how their burns match.

What's that sound?

Oh, it's him.

He's... laughing?

They messed him up pretty badly.

He'll write a song. If he gets out of here. He will. He just has...

He has to....

Fuck. What is he supposed to do, again?

"Jaskier!"

Huh?

Yennefer? Nah, there's no way.

Must be Crazy lady.

She didn't have that voice before though. Ah well, magic.

Should he open his eyes? Okay no he can't, good. He didn't want to anyways.

Melitele's tits what are these sounds?

What kind of game are they playing now?

It won't work.

How did Yen call him? Ah yes!

The firefucker didn't break him once, he won't break him now.

Firefucker, ha!

The jokes he could come up with, if only he could speak.

His tongue.

They didn't cut it off, right? Right, no. Right, he can feel it.

"Please wake up, Jask."

Geralt? Nope. Can't be him.

Geralt is never this soft. Not to him, at least.

But... no!

It's them.

They're playing with his mind, they've been doing so for the past.... How long has been here?

Oh well, doesn't really matter now does it?

Ehi! What are they doing now?

Nononononononono not his hands!

Not again!

Oh Gods this is bad.

Huh?

They're..?

No, it must be a mistake.

They're untying him?

What do they want to do to him?

Why don't they just kill him, huh? He won't say anything.

"Nobody is killing you! Jaskier stop!"

What?

How do they know her voice?

Are they into his mind already? No, no, no. Yennefer's spell is still in place, he can feel it.

What is going on?

Who the fuck is hugging him?

Is this a new technique? Nope, won't work, sorry.

Stop touching his face!

Oh!

Did he just..?

Yes!

Ha!

He spit in the firefucker's face!

Oh!

He spit in the firefucker's face!

He's gonna hurt him so bad now. He won't recoil! He's Jaskier the bard! He doesn't cower to firefuckers! Or their Crazy lady friends!

Oh but these hands are so soft on his face.

He... Does he know this touch?

Yes!

Nobody else is so tender with him!

But it can't be!

What are they doing with their eyes?

Oh!

Oh!

Was it a spell?

Wait.

Geralt?

This is a trick.

Has to be.

He needs to get far away from him. Whoever he is!

Geralt never looked at him like that!

Oh fuck who did he crush into? Why won't his legs cooperate? He can't get up!

Yennefer.

Trick.

He knows.

But she's reaching out to him. Her hands are upturned. Her smile. Nobody could fake that smile. Could they? Maybe if he reached out, he'll be able to tell.

Right? Right.

"That's it, dearheart, you're safe now."

It's... Oh Gods.

It's her.

Like really really her.

She's holding his hands.

Is he smiling? He feels like smiling.

What is she..? Oh! This is new.

Oh, but is it nice!

He could stay like this, rest.

She's safe. That much he knows. And she'll protect him.

Wait so... Geralt.

Oh Gods!

Did he spit into Geralt's face? Oh!

Why is he looking so sad?

Jaskier is safe now. He's with them again!

He's... could it be..?

No, he has no reason to.

Her arms are tightening around him. Her face is in his hair.

Is she crying? Yen no. Stop.

How can he stop her? His arms are so heavy.

He could... Okay, he's doing it now.

Leaning into her.

She did it so much in the past, now he knows why. It feels so good.

She's so safe, and warm, and tender, and safe. No wait, he already said safe! But she is. Really much so. Ah.

He should do it more.

"Yes. You should, dearheart, how much you want."

See?

This is nice.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Is this bad? yes. Could it be worse? also yes. Has this been sitting in my drafts for weeks? again yes. Will I notice something deeply wrong with it only after I posted? you guessed it! yes.

ah! anyways.

[witcher-trash]

Geraskier fic recs

A Few Years Ago In A Galaxy About Three Lightyears Away From The Milky Way (geralt/jaskier, teen, complete, 10k, star wars au) Star Wars AU. Just. I don't know, it's a Star Wars AU.

All I Am Is Open for View (geralt/jaskier, explicit, complete, 2k) There is a game they play every time they reunite. To be granted the privilege and reward of Jaskier’s body, Geralt must impress his bard with five heroic deeds he has done during their time apart.

all i want is you (my sweet honey bee) (geralt/jaskier, mature, complete, 3k) Waking up alone has been hard enough for Geralt, but it’s the lack of music and chatter that’s really taken its toll. The estate is lovely, of course, and it’s easy to find distractions, but Dandelion is what makes Corvo Bianco home.---Geralt reflects on his retirement while preparing for Dandelion's return to Corvo Bianco.

Always Lose-Lose (geralt/jaskier, mature, complete, 125k) For years Geralt and Jaskier travel together. What starts out as Geralt being annoyed by the bard who insists on follwing him turns into something more as the years go by. But in the midst of the war Nilfgaard's wages on the rest of the continent, Jaskier is captured to tell them where Geralt is. It's either betray Geralt or save himself. Will he be able to make the right choice? Or is it already too late for him to choose? And what exactly has lead to Jaskier getting caught in the first place?

appropriate ways to care for your local witcher - series (geralt/jaskier, geralt/eskel/jaskier, explicit, complete. 37k) Geralt makes a joking suggestion about how Jaskier might pay him back. Jaskier only too enthusiastically agrees.

ask me tomorrow (geralt/jaskier, mature, complete, 10k) "Why -" he gestures expansively towards Jaskier, his lute, the forest around them, his swords now strapped to Roach "- are you doing this?" A bard seeking fortune wouldn't watch Geralt across the fire with eyes half-full of tears that he didn't bother to blink away. An artist looking for a muse wouldn't press close, desperately close, against Geralt's side until he finally gave in and turned his head. A young man after a quick fuck wouldn't grip Geralt to him hard enough to bruise even a witcher. The way Jaskier looks at Geralt makes him think he should know the answer already, but he doesn't, he doesn't. "Because I know you," he says at last. "Because I have known you. Because I will know you. Isn't that enough?" (One day, Geralt will understand that it was the closest thing Jaskier will ever have to a goodbye, and it's enough, it's enough.)

a throat full of teeth (geralt/jaskier, jaskier/oc, yennefer/oc, mature, complete, 40k) It occurred to Jaskier, as he forced his own feet to move, one ahead of the other, that Geralt hadn’t once shifted from where he stood on the mountain, arms ridged by his side, staring out into the valley, ass clenched like there was no tomorrow. He really had just let Jaskier leave. Jaskier clenched his jaw. Guess this one is for real then. When he arrived back at camp he gathered his things and gave Roach a gentle pat. He’d told Geralt “see you around,” but he didn’t think it would happen. No, actually, he decided. He was planning on it. jaskier and geralt lose each other. it takes a long time to be found again.

Base Born Bard (geralt/jaskier, teen, complete, 2k) Baseborn. Adjective. Of low birth or origin. Illegitimate or bastard. Some times Dandelion’s heritage causes them trouble, sometimes it doesn't.

No Man Would Dare - series (geralt/jaskier, mature, 40k) Geralt and Dandelion take a contract from a young lord to find his only living relative, his older brother, whose run away following the deaths of the rest of their family. The Witcher and Bard cross the continent on the man's trail and learn there is much more to this man's story than his tragic family. There is a dark secret that is following him--and now it's following them. Or: A Witcher twist on a Familiar Gothic Tale.

not a goodbye, a thank you (geralt/jaskier, complete, mature, 3k) Somewhere further in the courtyard, Lambert yells out a colourful curse while Ciri cackles maniacally. Eskel is taunting the former through his laughter, and Vesemir’s voice joins in with barked commands and corrections once the clang of steel against steel continues. Somewhere above them, on one of the balconies overlooking the yard, Geralt can hear the scratch of quill against parchment as Yennefer works on her correspondence, interrupted every now and again by the tapping of nails against an inkpot. He realises what’s wrong an instant before everyone else grows suddenly, eerily still; Jaskier is quiet.

Own and Make Me Yours (geralt/eskel/jaskier, aiden/lambert, wip, explicit, 50k) Jaskier, a royal pleasure slave, isn't exactly happy with his lot in life—he's having sex with less than desirable nobles at a pace nobody would want—but he's learned to be content with it. Things could be a lot worse. On occasion, Radovid sends him away to bestow his services on nobles who aren't stationed at court. During one such trip Jaskier witnesses the murder of a noble he was supposed to be pleasing, and sees the faces of the assassins; to keep him from identifying them to the authorities, Jaskier is taken with them when they leave, and finds himself held in the royal palace of Rivia. Life in Rivia is anything but what Jaskier would have expected and both the king of Rivia and his right hand are unlike any nobles Jaskier has ever known; the more time he spends with them, the more he realizes that they might just be what they seem to be—good men.

Permeable Barriers (geralt/jaskier, teen, complete, 20k) Geralt and Jaskier are just searching for escape from the oppressive summer heat, when an old acquaintance asks for their help with the current crisis and reveals a past Jaskier had kept hidden. A plague is sweeping the continent, but Geralt would rather not get involved... until a nearby town falls victim to his sort of problem.

Ùine (Time) - series (geralt/jaskier, explicit, complete, 23k) Jaskier's 35th birthday was supposed to be a night full of song and food, a grand banquet to remember. Nothing went as planned. The door creaked, and Geralt roused from a light slumber at the sound. The lingering scent of the snuffed candle by the bed suggested the passage of several hours. Not more than three, which was strange. Jaskier should have been awhile yet, if he was going to return to the tavern at all. And yet… an uneven step, and the door clicked shut. The unfamiliar tread brought Geralt’s drowsy senses to focus, and he picked up more. The copper of blood. Musk of seed. Pallor of salt.

warm you like the sunshine (geralt/jaskier, explicit, complete, 10k) "Why do you go with people who hurt you?" He looked at Jaskier, and kept looking at him after he looked away and the smile dropped off his face. After a long silence, Jaskier said, in a much more tired voice, "I don't exactly have a lot of options, Geralt." On the face of it it wasn't true--Jaskier could find a willing young woman or man in any half-crowded tavern without lifting a finger--but that wasn't what he meant, of course. He meant when he needed...that particular sort of person. That particular experience. Without the slightest forethought or intention, Geralt frowned and said, "You have me."

Witcher (A/B/O) - series (geralt/jaskier, explicit, 100k, abo) The tale of the strange Alpha Witcher and his untraditional Omega Bard.

[dapandapod]

Lasagna and Velocipastor

This is a prompt fill for @thepassifloradiscord Fluff Bingo Card nr 3; First kiss! It ran away from me, because I find them cute, also protective brother Geralt, also Eskel being smort! Please enjoy!

Pairing; Jaskier/Eskel

On Ao3 here

It is always a bit tricky to flirt with the sibling of a friend. Especially when it is the best friend he has ever had, but also because the brother is the hottest fucking man Jaskier has ever met. And funniest, humblest, most wicked and… sexy. Frankly, Eskel ticks all of Jaskier’s boxes, even the ones he didn’t realize he had.

  Every now and then Geralt accuses Jaskier of only hanging out with him to hit on his brother, but look. It is hitting two flies with one stone. Kind of. Maybe. A little.

Hitting on one fly while hanging out with the other? Close enough. Point is, Eskel is hot, Geralt is a little shit, and Jaskier is so very, very lost on this man, crushing hard.

Most of the family is invested in working with the old species of “monsters”, as they are still called, relocating, rehabilitating and studying what is left of them as humanity takes more and more of their natural habitat. 

Eskel has a big scar running down the side of his face, one he earned in the field when one of his clients couldn’t follow very simple instructions and agitated the beast and it nearly cost them both their lives. 

The scar is gnarly, twisting his lip into a permanent snarl, one that keeps him safe, but also one that keeps him… separated from many others.

Which is why Geralt has been half joking about Jaskier hanging out with him only to get to Eskel. Which is why Jaskier has kept up his flirting, refuses to stop.

Only when Geralt took him to the side and asked him about it, what he actually wants from Eskel, if he is genuine, because if he is not, he needs to back the fuck off.

Probably this was a brother feeling protective, but it sparked hope in Jaskier.

If Geralt deems Jaskier a threat to Eskel's heart, maybe, just maybe there might be something in there for him.

Which is also why he tells Geralt the truth - yes he is hanging out with Geralt to get to Eskel. Partially. It is also because of Geralt's mean Pasta Carbonara. A feast to the tastebuds. Pain for the tumtum, because Jaskier never learns to bring his allergy pills.

And what kind of brother would Geralt be if he didn't give his friend a stern talking to, because he will not see his brother hurt, and he doesn't want to lose his best friend. Jaskier wholeheartedly agrees, but silently thinks it might be Eskel who could break his.

It takes a few weeks and some gentle ribbing, of course, before Jaskier feels brave enough to ask Eskel out. Actually, scratch that, it takes him that long to send him a PM, to start a conversation with him and only him, for the sole purpose of talking to each other rather than whatever is going on with Geralt and his poor life choices at the moment. Or birthdays. And the sort.

Point is, Jaskier's heart was jackrabbiting as he saw the three little dots appear, and he had to hide his face in his pillow to muffle his whoop of emotions when Eskel replied.

Some more ribbing later, now joined in by Lambert, who sees Jaskier's fantastic (in his opinion) attempts to flirt and decides that no. He will not stand for this. Get laid or get out, as he says it.

It has Eskel blushing, Jaskier even more so, whenever Lambert yells out what ever is on his mind regarding the subject at that exact moment. Sometimes it earns Lambert a tackle, from either brother and on one rare occasion Jaskier himself, but the way it has Eskel looking at him has him walking on clouds all the way home after that.

It is actually Eskel who asks Jaskier out in the end. There is a new area opening in the rehabilitation center focused on aquatic species, and Eskel beats Geralt to showing him around. Since it is mostly after opening hours, the light is dim, only lit up by some of the lamps in the aquariums, giving everything a soft blue hue.

"Did you see the Velocipastor yet?" Eskel asks after Jaskier spends long minutes in front of one of the tanks, cooing over its inhabitant and comparing it to a dinosaur.

"The Velociwhat?"

"You know? Pastor by day, Veloceraptor by night?"

"Oh my god, no, but now I have to."

"We could see it together this weekend, if you'd like?"

"Oh sure? I think Geralt is away with Ciri somewhere though."

"I know." Eskel says, looking at Jaskier with those piercing eyes of his. Jaskier has to focus on breathing, to not open his mouth and make a fool out of himself.

"So just us?" He asks, and he should say it with a smirk and a wink, but he can't make himself do it. There is something in the way Eskel is looking at him, something that makes his stomach flip and his heart skip a beat.

"Just us. If you want to. I could cook us something too, if you'd like."

Jaskier opens and closes his mouth a few times before he can process, and by then Eskel is already speaking again.

"I have to warn you though, that movie is an *experience*, and I would not let you suffer through it alone."

"How many times have you seen it?"

"Classified." Eskel smirks.

"Alright, count me in. But on one condition." Jaskier says, and this is it. "Is it just a movie night between friends?"

The air pumps bubble in the brief silence that follows, but Eskel doesn't even blink. The lines of his face looks sharper in this light, more dangerous, but his smile is soft.

"No. I'd very much like it if it were a date." Eskel says in that serious way of his, and once again, Jaskier is amazed of many things that can fit into one person. How brave and serious he can be, after proposing a movie night with the... oddest movie premise he has ever heard? Not only a movie night, but a fucking date night? 

And alright, not the oddest one, Jaskier doesn't talk about the oddest one, he still wishes he hadn't seen it, but it's too late, and Eskel is waiting for an answer and Jaskier realize he is nodding already and alright, yes he should probably use his words too.

"I'd very much like that too." Jaskier manages, and the smile Eskel gives him in return will be burnt on the inside of his eyelids.

"Brilliant! Now let me show you this ugly bastard over here."

"Oh what, how dare you, this creature is gorgeu-oh fuck what is that?"

"Told you."

Date night is... smooth going. They already know each other, Eskel reminds him to bring his lactose pills, because he is about to make lasagna (turns out he has been at it for most of the day, because that dish take some serious time and skill) and by the time Jaskier gets there, Eskel is panicking over the sauce that just doesn't want to thicken.

When it is finally in the oven, where it is supposed to be for only about half a century, they start the movie.

Jaskier has... a lot to say about it. Delighted things, terrible jokes, so drawn in that he almost forgets that it is Eskel he is watching it with, and that he is supposed to be flirting. Somewhere between the middle and the end, Eskel gets up to save the lasagna, and returns in time to see Jaskier's reaction to one of his favorite scenes.

The movie ends, they bring plates of food back to the couch (something you can only do when Geralt is away) and a second movie starts.

Eventually, Jaskier ends up leaning against Eskel's shoulder, and eventually the movie is forgotten entirely.

It is hard to beat the Velocipastor after all, and even harder to beat the big hand that is now resting on his side. Even harder when he can feel Eskel watching him, and the battle is lost in truth when Jaskier turns his head to look back at him.

"What?" He asks, Eskel's lips in perfect height to be stared at, the way the corner of his mouth quirks up and how his scarred lip is straining as he smiles.

"I'd like to kiss you."

"Oh." Jaskier says stupidly, still staring at Eskel's mouth. "Please do. Good idea. Splendid. Grand--"

Eskel places his other hand under Jaskier's chin, tilting it up, and then their lips press together.

The angle is a little off, but Jaskier adjusts easily, both of them shifting to better keep the kiss going. It is a little dry to begin with, until Eskel pulls back for just one second to lick his lips. 

Jaskier mirrors him and then the kiss is more. Just more. It is hard to describe as his head, for the first time in years, is blissfully blank.

When they eventually part, because Jaskier startles from a loud sound from the movie, they laugh and snuggle closer together. Jaskier has no idea what this second movie is about but he doesn't care at all, as their hands find each other over the blanket, fingers lacing together.

"This feels like second date material to me." He decides, feeling rather than hearing the puff of air against the side of his face when Eskel huffs a laugh.

"Is that so?" Eskel inquiers.

"That is indeed so, I'm afraid to tell you, my good sir. You are now stuck with me for at least one more date."

"I will have to endure. Was it my wicked lasagna that won you over?"

"There is something about a man that can cook but who also have a taste for oddities that draws me in, I must confess."

"Some oddities are more compelling than others." Eskel says way too smoothly, pressing a kiss to Jaskier's temple.

"Did you just call me odd??" Jaskier says mock offended, turning in place to stare Eskel down. A small miscalculation on his part, because it is very hard to keep up the act with Eskel being so *fucking* hot.

"I did call you compelling too, if that helps." Eskel offers, and Jaskier considers it.

"Hm. For one more kiss, I'll allow it."

And one more kiss he gets. Actually, a few more kisses he gets, and then he finds himself in Eskel's lap, muttering about third base and terrible boyfriends, and Eskel just smiles wider and kisses him harder and yeah.

Come morning, Jaskier is feeling better than ever. Eskel is curled up around him on the couch, he has a terrible crick in his neck, and he has a second date planned for today's brunch.

Geralt walks in on them in the middle of a cheese war (don't ask) and gives them one look. Just one.

"You are cleaning this up, and I'm glad you got your shit together. Jaskier, if you ate that cheese you are going home, we only got the one bathroom in this house."

Things are good. Really good. Jaskier has to go home to his own bathroom in the end, because bringin the pills is one thing, taking them another, and he might have forgotten for their brunch, but their third date is already planned, and nothing can bring Jaskier down now.

Not even Lambert.

[dandelion-vines]

I am Thinking about Vesemir/cubs... Ves loves his cubs, they love him, but as the head of the wolf school when they're in Kaer Morhen he has full rights to fuck them as he likes. That doesn't change when G brings his boyfriend J home for the winter. That's fine, Ves is happy for them, but he's still going to fuck G over the dinner table to remind them both who G belongs to. It doesnt change when G brings Ciri home, either (cont)

(cont) I'm not thinking about Ves/Ciri as much, more that Ciri gets used to seeing her new dad and uncles bent over and getting fucked. Ves teaches her about monsters while one of his cubs keeps his cock warm and it just turns into part of live at the keep.

Jaskier is immortal I'd just like to mention that. It's not important to the story but it's important to me that you know 😌

tags: voyeurism, group sex, sex in front of a minor (but she doesn’t participate and no one acts sexual towards her), ask to tag

__

"He doesn't like me." Jaskier turns to his side and kicks his arm and legs over his boyfriend's body. "He really doesn't." He knows he's nearly forty, and is acting very much like he's ten with the petulant little pout he's got on but he's upset. 

Geralt's quote unquote dad doesn't care for him at fucking all. 

"That's not true," Geralt grumbles, wrapping an arm around Jaskier's waist. "He's actually happy for us."

"Well it doesn't seem like it!" Geralt hums, and Jaskier huffs as he buries his face into his neck. 

"I'm sorry." 

Geralt presses a kiss to his shoulder, a smile on his face, and tells him to go to sleep.

Jaskier wakes to a gentle sway of a mattress. It's still much too early in the morning-- his fringe tickles his face, hair is sticking out in all directions, no doubt, the lack of satin pillowcases absolutely destroys it's fizz-free existence and don't even get him started on-- Right. The bed's swaying. He turns, looking for Geralt in dusk's dim light.

Only to find him staring back at him, one hand clasped over his face, stomach pressed to the bed and a hand, neither his nor Jaskier's, tied up in his hair. Jaskier traces his eyes from the curve of his boyfriend's back to a man stood behind him, plowing into his ass. 

He nearly falls off the bed when Vesemir looks back at him, a wolfish grin on his face. Geralt moans then, forcing Jaskier to rip his eyes away from Geralt's father and watch the way his hand tightens over his mouth though he's already been caught. 

Well shit. Vesemir's fucking his son. Who so happens to be Jaskier's boyfriend. 

Fuck. Okay, uhm—

That's fucking hot. Jaskiers shoves the blankets off of himself, getting to his knees by Geralt's torso, looking up at Vesemir with the most adorable puppy eyes he can muster. 

He doesn't know how they do this, if they call Vesemir 'Sir' or perhaps 'Daddy." All he knows is that he wants to find out. Vesemir pauses, grabbing Geralt by the torso and flipping him over, the oldest witcher's muscle straining under the soft linen of his nightshirt. Fuck, Jaskier's already so goddamn hot for his boyfriend's Daddy. 

"Open yourself up, Pup." And Jaskier has been in many a number of sexy situations, always one to top but oh Melitele, if Vesemir told him to shove ice up his asshole during the Kaer Morhen winters, Jaskier would without question. He makes quick work of it, laying on his back so he's parallel to his boyfriend after he grabs the lube from their bedside table. Geralt's mouth is open in a soundless moan, amber eyes unfocused and glossy-- "Kiss my boy while you do, Jaskier." 

Geralt's head turns to face him, hazed over eyes settled on his face as he jolts back and forth from his father's fucking. Jaskier dives in to meet his lips, hungrily letting Geralt's tongue slip into his mouth, spit slicking over their lips in their filthy fucking kiss. He manages to uncork the vial, spilling it over his fingers and pressing them to his hole as Geralt sucks on his tongue. 

"Good boys. You're both mine, aren't you? My very good pups. Hurry up, Jaskier, I want you to be full of my wolf when he cums. Jaskier shoves a finger in, whining at the sudden stretch, a sound that Geralt readily swallows with tongue and teeth. Jaskier's much more careful with the second finger, working quickly and brushing against his prostate with everything thrust as he works up to three. 

"Get on his cock, songbird." Jaskier scrambles onto his knees, straddling over Geralt's cock and holding it in position as he slowly sinks down on it, facing Vesemir as his tongue lolls. 

"Can I ride him?" Geralt is, after all, Vesemir's pup, just as Jaskier is now, apparently. The idea of being owned by Vesemir makes him feel all warm-- not in the way he feels warm with Geralt, but more that he's cared for entirely with Vesemir. Like... Like Vesemir knows what's best for him, will care for him and all Jaskier needs to do is submit-- he doesn't know, it's not like be can find his fucking words right this fucking minute, speared on Geralt's cock and Vesemir looking at him with that pleased little smile. 

The oldest witcher nods, and starts fucking Geralt faster as Jaskier begins riding him with frenzy, high, helpless moans escaping his parted lips as he fucks himself down on his boyfriend's cock. 

"Good boy, you both are so good, doing just as I want." Geralt whimpers from behind Jaskier; the bard can feel just how desperately he wants to thrust up into Jaskier's ass, and is absolutely enamoured with the fact that he doesn't simply because Vesemir hadn't told him to. 

Geralt begins to thrash underneath them, gripping at the sheets, toes curling from where his legs are thrown over Vesemir's shoulders. Jaskier knows those actions better than he knows himself, can practically imagine the red of Geralt's face as he desperately tries to keep from cumming without permission, teeth clenched and head tilted up--

"Cum," Vesemir orders, and Jaskier feels Geralt spurt inside him, pumping him full of witcher cum. His own orgasm, on the other hand, catches him by surprise as it tears out of him-- he thinks he can hear Geralt shout, but it's overwhelmed by his own scream as he cums up his fucking chest. 

He collapses forward, and Vesemir catches him just before he fall. "Boy." Jaskier hums in reply. 

"Daddy," Geralt whimpers from behind them, lax. 

"Just a second, Geralt." Daddy's eyes turn back to his, worry in his face. He helps Jaskier off Geralt's cockz his own cock still hard. "Are you okay? Use your words, Jaskier." 

Jaskier lays down with Vesemir's guidance, curling into Geralt's side. "I'm okay, Daddy," he whispers, mind still swimming. Melitele, he can't remember the last time be was in subspace, if ever. It feels a bit different from domspace, but pleasurable all the same.

"Good. I'm going to cum over both you and Geralt. Okay, pup? I'm going to mark you both mine, remind you who you belong to." Geralt shuffles from beside him eyes equally glassy as his as they both mumble thier yes daddy's. Vesemir kneels between Geralt's and Jaskier's thighs, stripping his gorgeous cock with a slow hand. Jaskier wants to reach up, wrap his hands around it,. It finds himself with too-heavy limbs. 

"Eskel, Lambert, stop hovering outside and come give your Daddy a hand," Vesemir calls, voice stern. The wolves sheepishly walk in faces read as they drape themselves over Vesemir's back, one hand gripping his cock jut as another tilts Vesemir's head back so Eskel can kiss him. Jaskier watches, awestruck at how beautiful they are; Lambert's other hand wraps around Vesemir's waist and traces up his side, thumbing over a nipple before giving it a hard pinch-- 

Vesemir cums with a grunt, Eskel moaning into his mouth and Lambert rutting against his hip as Vesemir covers both Jaskier and Geralt in cum, painting them white and painting them his.

Vesemir smiles down at them before curling behind Jaskier as Eskel and Lambert join in on the cuddle, the four of them sharing sweet kisses as he and Geralt relish in their headspace. He realizes that it wasn't that Vesemir didn't like him, just that he wasn't sure how to act around him quite yet. Jaskier makes sure to make it abundantly clear when he turns his head and presses a slow, perfectly filthy kiss to Vesemir's lips. 

Jaskier quickly learns that the wolves don't always fuck in the room. In fact, it seems that they rarely fuck in a bedroom. When he and Geralt come upstairs, hand in hand and clean from the hot springs below, Eskel is bouncing on Vesemir's cock, Lambert setting the table like Vesemir and Eskel aren’t fucking at breakfast. Eskel gags comically when he notices Jaskier's and Geralt's hands intertwined, the white wolf turning a pretty red before snarking at his brother to shut up. 

Eskel settles on Vesemir's cock, warming throughout breakfast and fucks him over the table at the end. Jaskier learns that being in Kaer Morhen, being Vesemir's, means being fucked mindless whenever, wherever. It's a pretty fantastic fucking thing. 

On the Path, Jaskier and Geralt easily slip back into their dynamic, Jaskier domming for his lover, and Geralt being the ever-wondeful sub. Of course, they don't get long to fuck, fight monsters, and write song-- they find Geralt's child surprise, dirty and afraid, in the woods months later. It’s a miracle she's still alive-- they make haste back north, towards Kaer Morhen.

The keep is empty for the three seasons of the year, but aplenty food grows in the garden, and they spend the year healing. The weather slowly gets colder, and one October day, Vesemir pushes through the front door, curious and surprised, and most of all, glad that they're all safe. 

The rest of the wolves make it home soon enough, and it isn't till then that Jaskier remembers the sheer amount of fucking they do during the winter. He doesn't have a chance to worry about it, not when he sees Lambert cockwarming Vesemir in the library as the old witcher teaches Ciri about monsters. She looks at peace, gleefully sharing her observations out loud to both her grandfather and uncle; Vesemir pets his wolf every time he hums around his cock in reply. 

Everything is surprisingly fine. Ciri helps Eskel with the dishes as Vesemir fucks her dad in the counter right next to her, all four of them sharing a laugh as Eskel shares a story about Lambert. And when Vesemir has Jaskier bounce on his lap whilst the bard teaches her music theory, Vesemir sucking Eskel off for a quickie; they have obviously talked to her about this, that Vesemir gets to do what he wants when he wants to, and that he has all the men's consent-- that's all that worries her, that they're not enjoying it, but she's quickly reassured by four pups, telling her just how much they live Vesemir's cock (which, upon further reflection, wasn't the best idea but what the hell, she's literally watching them fuck, telling her that they truly enjoy it up the ass isn't going to scar her if that hadn't.) 

Overall, Jaskier adores being a part of the wolf pack, adores being Geralt's, and adores being Vesemir's. 

[stressedspidergirlsfandomblog]

Just like thinking about more of a book Dandelion take where he accidentally tends to shit all over Geralt's interests even when the poor bastard is just reading a book in a room the bard wasn't even in ... But like twisting it so it's more like he keeps trying to get Geralt to engage in academic debate but he doesn't get it and just shuts down. So twist the canon some.

But like Eskel running into him and knowing that Geralt wants Dandelion so badly but is also deeply afraid of that. For one. The bard loses interest after he fucks the person a few times. So there's no hope of any kind of future. Maybe a few weeks? If he can be interesting enough?

But two: the bard also seems to think he's kind of an idiot and mostly cares about his Witcher stuff and not anything he wants to actually talk about. (because of the miscommunication thing going on.)

Eskel is just like ??? My God if he's so awful what is the draw?

And Geralt's just like, he's not afraid of me. He's kind to me overall. He mostly treats me like a person. When I'm hurt he helps me, he's never left me to die. He's entertaining. He makes things feel less bleak. I don't have to sneak around Oxenfurt when I go, I can just attend lectures as I please if he's in town. People accept me better. His hands are gentle...

And so Eskel kind of makes it his mission to drive Dandelion insane for the few days he and Geralt are travelling in the same direction. Since he and Geralt grew up together and were very physical, he maintains that. Constantly in Geralt's space, etc.

Maybe he points out the bard occasionally makes Geralt feel stupid and lacking and he's horrified because he was just trying to keep a conversation happening. But Geralt never talks to him about anything. And so that cultural disconnect is solved. Also consider Eskel vaguely threatening him like, you want him too but he isn't a toy to discard once you've fucked the shine off. And again, cue horrified Dandelion. So Eskel again points out his constant sleeping around everywhere all the time would be off-putting to most people who just want 1 partner.

So. While Geralt gets some time with a friend he can relax around, and some much needed safe physical attention (oxytocin right?), and loads of casual affection so D gets to see another side of him, it opens things up for them. Helps them be better friends before they take it further.

Just imagine them sitting together, Dandelion thinking it's romantic and burning with jealousy. Geralt's pressed into Eskel's chest, Eskel's chin on his shoulder, arms around his middle. One leg on either side and Geralt has one leg tossed over one of Eskel's so they're practically entwined. They're talking quietly, so silently only those with enhanced hearing would pick it up. Something they learned in the keep. And they're actually talking about Geralt's feelings for dandelion. Y'know. Just shit like that. Eskel knows the bard is losing his shit and typical Geralt is oblivious because he has a feeling the bard really isn't that interested in him it's a curiosity thing.

teenish witcher ficlet?

I kind of have this idea percolating in regards to one of my older posts… 

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