#jaskier kisses a cute boy

[kit-middleton]

I haven’t started season 3 yet because I was afraid we’d get as little Jaskier as we did in previous seasons. And you’re telling me we get this?!?!

I’m sorry, I’m just so used to queerbaiting and in 1 week I get the kissing cousins in the Stratford Festival’s Richard II and this?!?! I need to breathe.

(I say kissing cousins, but this isn’t the chaste kiss that David Tennant’s Richard and Olly Rix’s Aumerle gave us in the RSC Richard II… it’s sex in a bathtub kind of kissing. Yeah. I will tell you more about it later!)

Why waste our words When lips were made for extraordinary things

[timetraveladdict]

OMG 😳 😳 😱 😱

I just finished the first episode and oh my, it was amazing!

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Where do I start… the domestic fluff between Geralt, Yennefer and Ciri was so cute it hurts.

The whole dynamic between Yennefer and Geralt was also very sweet and more than once I was: “Why don’t they kiss already?”

Also Yenn and Ciri ice skating was the most adorable thing!

And then… MY BOY JASKIER!!! Oh my God! The whole Vespula affair was taken straight from the books and ai love it!!!

I fucking knew that it was Redanian Intelligence behind his Sandpiper affairs! And now how dares Philippa threaten him!!??

And also bait a Jaskier was funny! I screamed when that arrow hit him!

“Please don’t let Valdo Marx attend my funeral…” I'm still laughing!

Also, NO JASKIER, NO, NO, NO!!!! We already saw Yenn trying to trade Ciri, don’t you dare making the same mistake!!! Just NO!

So we all agree Radovid is horrible lying bastard? But the scene were he and Jaskier meet was so funny!!!

“Julian Alfred Pankratz…” “Yes I know!!!” How I missed that!

Also Yenn and Jaskier bickering at each other!!!

And Henry Cavill is so perfect…

[eggcompany]

Oh Dear, Wife Part 3

Dandelion was one of a kind. In her pants that were rolled at the ankle and her thick men’s coats, she looked like a little boy. But she didn’t work like it. Following behind Geralt wherever he went. Feeding chickens, cleaning horses, herding sheep, anything that had to do with animals. Even if she did bruise her butt every time she went out slipping on the ice and slush. 

The winter was treating them well. The villages throughout the kingdom had plenty of food, there were no emergencies, and the New Dawn celebration was still planned for the next month. 

New Dawn… a time for renewed strength during the winter, when the sun would crest and turn deepest crimson red. A time when lovers shared kisses, when children were planned for it was nine months before the warmest day of summer. It was a time lovers snuck away, even the elderly snuck away to snicker and dance under the sun's blood light. 

Geralt hadn’t explained it to Jaskier yet, fearing she’d want something from him. He would have to. He was beginning to… think of her fondly. 

Geralt grew to.. respect her. Admire her. She often opened the door between their rooms nowadays playing her instruments and singing. It was calming to hear the sweet voice of his wife while he read documents. She wore long thick dresses now, not being accustomed to the cold that snuck in even with the fireplaces lit. She still looked beautiful in cap pulled down over her ears in her fruit colored dresses and small laced up shoes. 

He found himself calmer, mind thinking through everything more carefully than he had before. He thought perhaps it was because the castle was calmer all together. No one traveled during the winter, having to stay inside. But Jaskier’s singing and insistence that she could wear whatever she wanted to dinner, meaning the most ridiculous ball gowns and occasionally a theater outfit of a bard which included a garish outfit with cape and hat, kept the mood up. Even the king moved along with her singing, often having her sit in his study while he worked, enjoying the way she plucked away on her lute. 

There was a new light in the castle that had never been there before. 

However not everything would be calm forever. The kingdom to their west was bothering. Geralt had to draw up attack plans and read through history and guardsman books and it was all so stressful. Knowing there was strife while the kingdom was at its weakest, not knowing whether or not he’d have to drive his soldiers into a war upon the frozen ground. Even with Jaskier’s content singing, it was dulled to a buzz in the background for his racing mind. 

“Geralt, where can I- oh! Sorry!” Jaskier said as she walked through the divider only to turn back when she saw the prince was dressed in only a pair of pants and thick socks. He was hunched over his map that was splayed across the table, thick arms holding him up, back toward Jaskier as hid around the corner. 

“Am I not your husband? Come here to speak to me.” Geralt barked over his shoulder, irritated at everything, not caring if it was mean or rude. 

Jaskier glanced over at him, his broad shoulders crossed with scars down to his waist, his hair was unkempt and hanging loosely around his face, making him look a bit wild.  She took a breath and looked again at his scars, all criss crossing in thin lines with few ink splatter stars, even one near perfect cross at his hip, perhaps an arrow, she thought. 

“You… are my husband.” Jaskier said carefully and took a step into the room. She took in what he was looking at. Colored glass pebbles, blue and orange, were spread across the map in odd patterns and formations. She realized this was how he planned how to move men. She found it kind of… cute. 

“Are you struggling with it?” Jaskier asked quietly as she took another step closer, reaching out to Geralt's arm. He was warm, even dressed down to his pants, his skin was warm. She found a scar that wrapped his biceps, a chain forever imprinted in his skin. She ran her fingers over it, studying the texture of the pink raises. 

“It’s my responsibility and task to protect the kingdom. I am the wall between health and safety and death and destruction. It is my duty.” He spoke, low and heavy. His very soul bared, his frustration, his anger, the weight of his entire kingdom pressing down on his shoulders. It hurt Jaskier, how the agony sounded. 

She hummed, moving behind him, wrapping her arms around him, laying her head against his back. It was… it made Geralt’s head suddenly seem lighter. 

He took her hand where it laid against his sternum. Her soft hair tickling at the nape of his neck, her frigid hands cooling him, her breath warm gusts across his shoulder, the soft fabric of her night gown, the lacy frills at the neck, pressing into his skin, it all made him feel calmer. Like his breaths could dip deeper in his chest pulling more air into his lungs. 

“You are so beautiful. Like art, one thousand brush strokes.” Jaskier whispered very quietly as she drew her free hand to trace across the lashes of his scars, each one its own unique hue of pink or white, its own raise or dip. He was walking art, life in human form. Resilience, worth, strength, survival, passion, everything a noble man could ever try to be. Each mark a story untold, each mark a step taken on the battlefield, a fight won, a death, a chance to survive. Each breath he took was proof of his loyalty and devotion to his land. She found him beautiful. 

Even when he huffed and looked over his shoulder at her, their eyes catching in the dancing candlelight. She always thought his eyes seemed to glow like molten gold in the candlelight, cat eyes in the darkest night. 

“Death is counted on my skin, how you see art is grotesque.” He argued, the words heavy with truth. He’d never believe he was anything nice to look at. The men he’d killed, slaughtered on the field, each scar marked ten men who died at his hand, a hundred at his command, a thousand at his kingdom's feet. Yet this woman, gentle and poetic as she was, was tracing over each like it was a golden strand, a cherished memory. 

“I went to art school, I painted and drew, I sampled all the art I could. And yet I am stood in shock at you. Strength that puts even the strongest to shame, beauty uncountable, and heart of a champion. My husband. Devotion carved on your bones.” Jaskier said, turning to hug him again, hiding her face in his skin as her eyes burned with tears. She felt so much. She’d never met a man so devoid of love, so blind as to think the scars were only to mark his sins. She couldn’t help the way the tears rolled down her cheeks, landing on his skin. She wiped them away with her sleeve as she held back sobs. She knew he could tell she was crying, but she couldn’t feel shame. 

Geralt didn’t know what to do. The words struck him oddly, his chest felt twisted, his mind flooded with turmoil. Here was a flower, a princess of the most love soaked land ever known, gentle yet strong, king and truthful. And she was adoring him. Weeping as her arms held strong around him, as if she could squeeze her feelings into him if she held on long enough. He couldn’t help but hum and rub up and down her arms loving the soft texture of her hair there, the milky skin soft, the muscles dense and supportive. 

Jaskier just hugged his back ignoring her own tears in favor of indulging herself, hands turning to grab the prince’s. She loved his hands, loved how warm and solid they were in her own. With one sniff and a wipe of her face against her sleeves she released him. 

“Go to bed soon Geralt. You’re worth nothing if you don’t sleep.” Jaskier said as she placed a kiss between scarred shoulder blades. She walked back to her room pausing at the door for only a moment. She picked at her hands, her heart pattering against her chest, feeling like she was being pulled back to him. 

“Good night, Jaskier” Geralt said quietly, catching the back of her nightgown still flowing just inside the doorframe. She turned, her teary eyes catching his with a sad smile. 

“Goodnight Geralt” She said before slipping into her bedroom, the door shutting softly. She didn’t know why her tears wouldn’t stop as she laid in bed in the darkness, even as she gazed out the window, watching the heavy snowfall, she couldn’t help but weep. 

Curse her heart, she thought. Soon she was so tired she barely had the thought to crawl under her blankets, even if she’d wake up swearing she had fallen asleep on the bench under the window. 

-0-0-0-0-0-

Jaskier shivered in her bed. It was a dark winter. The sun, she swore, hadn’t risen in days. The clouds kept everything cloaked in stark darkness, everything covered in a white blanket. She hadn’t left bed all day, days? She couldn’t tell anymore. All she knew was that Geralt had to leave before the storm hit, kissing her deeply at the castle gate before riding away with a few dozen men, promising to be careful and to be back before too long. 

She missed him. Missed his company, missed watching him work, missed riding the horses to the village or collecting eggs from the chickens or brushing the snow from the sheep or walking through the trails looking at birds and plants. She missed seeing him, his warm hands and gruff voice. 

And she just couldn’t get warm. Her bedding was made for decoration, for the most part, she used to only sleep under a sheet with the window wide open. But now with every blanket she had stacked on the bed and in her thickest pants and coat, she felt freezing. 

She forced herself to get out of bed when her shivers stopped and she felt almost stuck in place. It hurt to move, she discovered as she pulled on her boots, fingers unable to tie them. She walked to the stairs, noticing no guards were by her door. It took her too long to reach the bottom of the stairs, she stood there looking around. One guard by the door, who immediately noticed her and stood up straighter. She was about to ask him what time it was but suddenly her knees didn’t quite want to stand anymore. 

The guard rushed over helping her back to her feet. 

“You did not go to the heart? Geralt left we thought you were to the heart with everyone else? My princess here, this way. This way.” He said and practically carried her through doors and down a hall to the innermost room of the castle. When the warmth hit her, she gasped finally finding relief. She reached out only for Eskel to catch her hands, worry heavy on his face. 

“Jaskier? Where have you been? Did you go with Geralt?” He asked and walked her to a few chairs in front of the fire. She wanted to get closer but the older prince held her back. She shook her head, looking up at him. 

“Geralt said he’d be back soon. I’ve been in bed, waiting.” She said before a cup was pressed into her hands and she drank the warm salt soup that it contained. She looked around when the cup was empty. Guards on cots to one side, a row of covered beds to the other side. She hadn’t seen those before. Eskel sat down next to her as the king circled her other side, hand settling in the middle of her shoulders. 

“Jaskier, Geralt didn’t tell you to come here? You’re handmaids? The guards?” The king asked and she shook her head. No one had said anything to her about anything. Her lip wobbled, hurt by the fact no one cared if she froze to death. Eskel was quick to get her a handkerchief and another cup of soup from the pot that was hung right outside the fire. 

“We will give them a proper lesson in etiquette then. I’m sorry, we assumed when you didn’t arrive here that you left with Geralt. Why don’t you sit tight and have some soup. Warm your bones, Jaskier, I know you’re not used to this weather.” Vesemir said carefully and the princess sniffled and nodded before slowly sipping the soup this time. Eskel started to explain that during blizzards or storms they all stayed in one room because it was the only way to stay warm enough. That Geralt would be back in time for New Dawn. 

“What’s New Dawn?” Jaskier asked as she stood behind a privacy screen to change into some more comfortable sleep clothes. She donned her thickest, warmest dress, it went to her neck and over her hands and down to the floor. Eskel rolled his eyes, of course Geralt hadn’t mentioned it yet. 

“It’s when the sky turns red, we celebrate during it.” Eskel said and took a sip of his drink. He almost choked when Jaskier popped her head from behind the screen, her bare shoulders on display. He quickly looked away, catching his father’s eyes. Vesemir looked amused and started to chuckle. 

“When the sky whats?!” Jaskier asked, looking between the witchers. Vesemir waved his hand to Eskel who quickly got away from Jaskier as she got back behind the screen to finish dressing. The king sat on the chair that was set beside one of the boxed in beds. 

“She’s never seen a New Dawn, Eskel. They don’t happen anywhere south of here. Jaskier, you’ve seen an eclipse right? That happened, what, a few years ago.” Vesemir asked and Jaskier hummed. She had seen when the day turned night. She had been in the temple praying for her god, hoping maybe one prayer would be answered. 

“Well here, once a year, the sun turns red. It’s called a New Dawn, it’s when we restart our calendars. There’s dancing, music, and it’s a lovers holiday. Now I know it’s not been a year but have you-” Vesemir started to ask but Jaskier was shaking her head as she emerged from behind the curtain. 

“We haven’t. Geralt told me we had a year.We um… we kiss. Is that something we can do?” Jaskier asked a blush burning her cheeks as she fiddled with her sleeves. Eskel grinned, finding her nervousness adorable. She was so careful. Vesemir laughed, full belly laughed and only made Jaskier burn up a bright red. 

“Dandelion, Flower, New Dawn is meant for hiding away, finding a tree to climb or a field to lay in and to be with your lover. As long as you are with someone you love, in a special way, and you tell them that, you’re celebrating properly. We’ll have a feast once the red washes away. It takes a few hours so dinner will be served early.” Vesemir explained and Jaskier nodded, feeling better about herself. She swallowed, pouring herself a glass of whatever horrid piss colored drink they were sharing and drank half. It burned but made her relax. 

“I’m excited to see it then.” She announced and sat back in front of the fire. Eskel was soon sat next to her, asking about Lettenhoven. They spent all hours talking, Jaskier eventually falling asleep in the chair but awakening in bed. 

Her bed. 

“Gr’lt? She grumbled and blinked, looking around her room to find the prince was at her table, one candle lit as he read over something. He stood and quickly moved to kneel beside the bed, taking her hand. 

“I didn’t think they would forget you were here. If I knew they were so… dismissive of you, I would have taken you with me. I’m sorry Dandelion.” He said and she noticed he had a new cut over his eyebrow. She gently reached out to touch it. 

“You’re hurt?” She asked, slowly waking up more and realizing there was a metal contraption in the corner of the room with a vent feeding through the window, warming it much more than had been possible before. Geralt kissed her hand, fingers trying to be sneaky as they slipped to her wrist, feeling her pulse. 

“It was a branch. The snow broke down trees while we slept, go see the guards, most of them have matching ones.” He joked and she gave him a small smile before sitting up, stretching her arms above her head. She yawned and watched him rise and move back to the desk, just standing beside it. 

“Eskel told me of New Dawn. I think it would be a spectacle perfect to watch from the roof.” She said simply and watched as he smiled, nodding shortly. 

“I’ll make a plan of it. Get dressed for breakfast, I’ll bring it up. It’s half day now.” Geralt explained and took his stack of papers and left through her door. She was shocked. Noon? What day was it? When did she go to sleep? What was for breakfast?

-0-0-0-0-0-

“Happy New Dawn, Flower” Geralt said as he walked into the princess’s room. He had brought her a necklace. It was made of carved bone with a small blue crystal in the center of it. He’d purchased it while across the kingdom and had bought a small wrapping of silk to keep it in. 

But he was caught short by the princess as she finished putting two golden pins in her hair. She was standing in front of her mirror in a red dress. Deep blood red, hemmed around her ankles, layered over red petticoats, and slipped over a black dyed chemise that buttoned up to her collar and down her wrists. Her face was painted more than usual, lips and eyes matching the dress in color, lined with coal black and her cheeks were gleaming with something warm and shiny. 

“Happy New Dawn, Geralt! I dressed for the occasion. This is funeral wear in my culture, but I think it fits for the occasion.” Jaskier said and smiled as she walked to be in front of him. Eskel said red and black was customary. And the black coat and red chemise Geralt was wearing nearly matched her. 

“You… look very pretty.” Geralt said dumbly. He felt a bit dizzy, a bit caught off guard. She placed her hand on his chest, smiling up at him. Something mischievous glinted in her eyes before he leaned up to press a kiss to his stubbly cheek. 

“I have a gift for you. It’s not customary but I know Lettenhovians have a winter gifting celebration. This is for that.” Geralt finally said, hand coming from behind his back to offer the silk to the princess. She let out a happy squeal, clapping once before taking the gift. She carefully unwrapped the necklace, pushing the silk into her pocket so she could hold up the jewelry with both hands. 

Her eyes gleamed as she looked over the carved beads and water blue gem. Geralt waited, hoping the princess would like it. He’d never had to buy a gift for a girl before. The thought made him feel ridiculous, anxious about giving his wife something. He still couldn’t keep his hands still, shoving them in his pockets. 

“It’s beautiful, Geralt. What’s it made of? Is this a- a quartz?” She asked and ran her fingers over the stunning white beads and cool stone at the center. She knew it would be comfortable, each piece smoothed and polished. 

“It’s bone. Deer bone carved and then dyed with coal ash. It’s the traditional way jewelry is made here. Quartz is what most of our decorations are. The mountains overflow, in many colors.” He explained and watched her dash back to her mirror and clip the necklace on. It looked horrible with her outfit but her wide smile made up for it. 

“In Lettenhove you’re supposed to wear whatever is gifted to you the day you receive it. Now, to the rooftop, yes?” She said and grabbed his hand, pulling them both out to the hall. Geralt couldn’t hold back his smile as they made their way up to the roof of the tower. He’d kicked the guards off, telling them to busy themselves elsewhere. 

Jaskier gasped when she stepped into the sunlight. The sky wasn’t the icy blue or storm grey it usually was. It was a flaming orange, deepening by the minute and the sun was slowly losing its white glow in favor of a blood red. Geralt had laid out a blanket and had asked the cooks to try and make something sweet. Lettenhovians liked sugar. 

The best they could do was fruit tarts from the fruit they had preserved. They smelled sweet to Geralt and apparently were good enough for Jaskier. She immediately gasped and fell to her knees, taking a bit of an overzealous bite before looking back at Geralt with big eyes. She had crumbs sticking to her lips, imbedding in her makeup. 

“Can I eat these?” She asked around her mouthful, realizing it might not be… correct. Geralt huffed a laugh and sat down next to her, legs out leaning back on his hands. 

“Yes Flower, I had the kitchen make them for you. We can’t make the um… pastcaries they have in Lettenhoven but we can make tarts. He watched her swallow, spotting the glasses and fresh water pouring herself a glass. She smiled and waved her hand at him. 

“Pastries, Dearheart, they’re coastal. Perhaps one day we can travel to the coast, I can show you all the best spots to swim during the night.” She offered and handed him a glass and a tart. He rolled his eyes, he’d already told her that he couldn’t swim. She often talked about the beach though, something almost sad in her eyes as she recounted the horse back rides in the sea and rolling days in the golden sand. 

“We have beaches here.” Geralt offered knowing the stone and frozen oceans wasn’t what she would want. Jaskier just smiled at him leaning over to press another kiss on his cheek. 

“Thank you, Geralt. For taking care of me.” She said sincerely and picked up another tart, picking it apart. Geralt looked over at her, wondering why his chest ached so. He looked back at the sky, it would be soon that the Dawn would start. 

“Thank you for not being… scared of me. For not running away or killing yourself.” Geralt said and Jaskier broke out in giggles. He didn’t understand what was funny but her smile, eyes glimmering as she looked up at him through her eyelashes. 

“Should I have? Should I have run into the forest hoping for the worst? To have gotten away from you before my treacherous heart opened up to welcome you in? Is that what you wanted?” Jaskier asked, lips still turned into a smile, teeth on display. Her voice was light but had a hint of… something that dug into Geralt’s own chest.

Geralt suddenly felt a bit ill, like he could puke. His chest felt tight, his throat feeling as if he’d swallowed poison, hands pricking with sweat. He looked away but there was a soft hand cupping his jaw making him face her. She was kneeling, looking down on him, her head haloed by blood red sky. He grabbed her arm, not hard, having been too cautious around her to act roughly towards her. 

“I think you are the one who is frightened. Nothing scares men of war like a woman unfeared. I can see it in your soul Geralt. And I will not shy away.” Jaskier said, voice low and quiet, hitting Geralt harder than any weapon wielded in a man’s hand. He opened his mouth trying to argue but she leaned down, pressing their lips together. 

Jaskier could feel the struggle going on inside Geralt’s mind. She could tell he didn’t know what to do, so she simply did what she wanted. She got one hand wound in his hair, the other around his neck and drew him close, kept him close. His lips were soft, warm, even before they began to move against her own she could enjoy their plush give. 

When she pulled back for a breath, she felt a bit dizzy, her blood warming under her collar at the sight of him. The prince, the serious and blood stained, with red lipstick smeared across his lips and his hair a mess, pulled half loose from the tie that tamed it. His eyes were blown, dark under the sky’s red light. She’d never seen anything like it, even as she looked up at the sky, falling to sit back on her butt. She felt a bit… wella bit smug at the fact Geralt couldn’t form a word but rather stared at her. 

“New Dawn… What a delightful holiday.” She said and picked up another tart as she laid down on the blanket.

 Geralt stared at her, unable to think of anything to say. He’d never met a woman so…. Much. Jaskier was so much. He laid down, his mind whirling with everything. Why his chest hurt his heart itself aching in a sweet agony, his lips holding onto the memory of the kiss, why his heart was racing and his head felt light. 

Jaskier smiled and moved her hand to lay between them, pink just grazing Geralt’s hip. She kept her eyes on the sky, amazed as the bird turned pitch black flew through the air. Her cheeks warmed when a large warm hand met hers, intertwining their fingers. 

It was only when the sky had turned back to a golden color and they were standing in front of the king that Geralt was told he had red lipstick on his cheeks and lips. He moved to see the kiss marks on both his cheeks and the streak across his lips. He gave Jaskier a dirty look but the princess only burst out laughing, soon drawing Eskel to look at his brother's face. 

Geralt would never live it down. He grabbed a mug of ale as he marched off to wash his face. Hoping to blame the alcohol on the pink in his cheeks.

[whaticannotshowyou]

re: degenerate nastiness: non-con scenario where the rapist Obviously has some kind of STD and the victim is disgusted as well as terrified of catching it too? (i'm a slut for hurting jaskier, but feel free to imagine someone else if you don't vibe with that)

Ooooooo hell yeah! Idk how grossed out you want the reader to be as well, but it is quite nasty? Be warned.

Jaskier going out for a drink and, being the cute guy that he is, attracts some unsavoury company. The man is far too drunk for his taste and quite up in his personal sphere, though the free drink and shot is nothing Jaskier turns down of course (the man behind the bar quite a gentleman as he makes sure to tell Jaskier about it before he pours it all up so he can watch it happen).

When Jaskier turns him down politely, the man actually seems to listen, even if he does so with a sour face. Yet, Jaskier can’t shake the feeling of unease as he can feel his eyes on him for most of the night, piercing him as he tries to truly enjoy himself.

As the night goes on, Jaskier eventually decides to turn himself in for the night, smiling as he bids the barkeep adieu and makes his way out the door. It’s only in the cold of the rainy night, a street or so away from the bar, that he feels the unease creep it’s way back up his spine, nervously glancing around him a second too late to stop the man from pinning him up against the closest wall.

In the struggle, the man manages to get a good grip on his arms, forcing them behind his back and holding him still with one of his large hands, the other clasped over his mouth as he drags Jaskier into the small alleyway closeby. Tossing Jaskier to the ground, he quickly worms his way in between his thighs, forcing his legs wide apart as he fumbles with the man’s trousers. Clumsily he manages to pull them down one of his legs, not bothering with the other side as he now had access to his lower body, making quick work of his own clothes then.

Jaskier gets a good few screams out in the meantime, though met with a harsh slap across his face each time while struggling to get free, hands slipping on the wet stone in the rain and leaving him back on square one. It’s then he gets a good glimpse of the man’s genitals, eyes wide as he once more feels the panic rise inside of him. Whatever the man had going on down there, Jaskier wanted none of it.

His cock has sores and lumps covering the shaft, his hand stroking what Jaskier could only assume to be highly contagious pre over the entire member. As he once again struggles to get away, the man rocks his hips forward, gripping both their cocks in his hand as he keeps jack off, effectively humping his cock as if to spread as much of his diseases to him.

Leaning down, the man’s lips catches his own, forcing his tongue inside clumsily while suppressing Jaskier’s pleas, still pumping their shafts together. He stops for a moment to angle his hips, this time prodding the tip at Jaskier’s entrance and sinking inside agonisingly slow.

Jaskier swear he can feel a sore pop inside of him, pus leaking into his body and despite the horror of it all, lubricating the way of the invading cock. He shudders, lips trembling against the forced kiss while his hands push on the larger man’s chest, fruitlessly trying to get him away. It only seems to make it all worse, him bearing down and thrusting hard enough to tear Jaskier’s insides, pumping his toxic pre and pus straight into his guts while bottoming out.

“Fuck, I’m gonna’ come,” he slurs, Jaskier taking panicked breaths as his mouth is finally freed. “Gonna breed ya’ good boy...”

Jaskier knew he wasn’t talking about a baby, now openly sobbing at the knowledge that the man actively wanted to give him whatever diseases he was carrying. His free hand once more came down to stroke his limp cock, spreading the already nasty mess of pre and pus over his shaft and tip, Jaskier watching him almost carefully making sure it covered the entire length. All the while, his movements kept getting more erratic, long and deep thrusts replaced by quick ones, eventually him just grinding his cock as deep inside as possible before gasping and grunting, Jaskier breaking down into a full crying as he felt the man unload inside.

[surpriserose]

In honor of the new season coming soon, please horse girl Geralt x doctor Jaskier where Geralt keeps getting thrown off his horse (unnamed until Jaskier steps in and gives her a name 🥺) because she's so untamed and Jaskier keeps bandaging him up. Geralt is a city boy so he's not used to the country but Jaskier IS (and with that sexy as hell buttery smooth southern accent) he helps him tame Roach (what they name his horse because Jaskier lives in a dump with plenty of roaches and he is friends with them so thinks it's a cute name. Geralt can't help but agree with him). They find a baby on the side of the road when they're out riding and they adopt her, realizing that there is more between them than just a bandage and a scraped knee. Moodboard please btw ❤️

omg thats sooooooooo cute 🥺 i hope you dont mind that i was really inspired by you switching up one of my favorite tropes (country boy geralt and city boy jaskier) so i also had to write a little something to go with the moodboard so theres a little drabble under the cut ^_^

Geralt stopped counting the number of times he fell off this damn horse. He swore into the dirt again. Damn his brother Eskel for buying such a shitty wild horse for him. Geralt had taken a trip down south to see his family again and they surprised him with his own horse. They knew how much he loved horses despite hating the rest of the family farm. His step dad Vesemir smiled at him and gave him a wink when Lambert and Eskel brought him to the barn.

"Now you'll have a reason to come down more often, huh, son?" Vesemir joked.

There was no way that was happening if Geralt couldn't get a handle on this damn mare. He sighed, pushing himself upwards and dusting off his riding clothes.

"Nice horse you got there," a man's voice with a heavy drawl said. "What's her name?"

Geralt's head snapped up, meeting the bright blue eyes of a man leaning against the old wooden fence. Oh shit, Geralt thought, he's hot. He hoped he wasn't blushing, it would be a dead giveaway on his porcelain skin.

"She doesn't have one yet," he replied, looking over the stranger. As if he didn't sound southern enough, he was wearing a large cowboy hat shading sun kissed skin.

"Is the same true for you?" the stranger smiled.

"No," Geralt started, suddenly nervous. The charms of other city men had never reached him, but this man with his cowboy swagger was seconds from sweeping him off his feet. "No, it's Geralt."

"Pretty name for a pretty boy," the cowboy chuckled. He held out a hand, "My name's Jaskier, and if you need some help with your horse, I'm the man to ask."

"Oh yeah?" Geralt raised an eyebrow. "Thanks, but I don't need any help."

"Not even with giving her a name? I'm a real creative guy, you know."

"I'm good," Geralt said. If I don't get away from here I'm gonna end up making a fool of myself, he thought.

"Are you sure? You look like yer bleeding," Jaskier shouted as Geralt turned away.

Geralt stopped and looked over his arms for wounds. Jaskier hopped the fence and jogged up to Geralt. Now they were face to face and to Geralt's surprise Jaskier was almost as tall as he was. Before Geralt could say anything Jaskier knelt in front of him, cowboy hat tipped back to Jaskier could throw him a wink. "It's on your leg, Geralt? Don't you feel it?"

Geralt gulped. "Let me sit down. This seems...compromising..."

"Hurts my heart that you wouldn't want me in a compromising situation."

"Well, that's..."

"Or is that not the problem?" Jaskier grinned. "Because if there's a problem, I'm a problem solving kind of guy."

"Well, there's maybe one problem," Geralt said nervously, his Boston accent breaking through.

"And what's that?"

"There's no Dunkin for a thousand miles."

[bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher]

My dearly beloved Braincell Bae. Do you have any stoner Geraskier content whirling around up in that brain of yours? - Sincerely, A Dumbass Who Loves Your Stoner Jask

Anything for you, darlin’! This just an extra special Catmint fic where they both have a lil bit lol. Lots of snuggling and smooching.

tw: weed, getting high

---

Jaskier rolled the strange smelling leaves into a tight bundle and twisted the end closed. It resembled the cigars or hand-rolled cigarettes that nobles sometimes carried in silver cases in their pockets but the scent was far sweeter and stranger. 

“What’s that?” 

“Hmm?” Jaskier hummed, looking up. His lips were pursed in concentration and his tongue was sticking out of the corner of his mouth slightly. Geralt suppressed a blush at how cute the bard looked like that. 

“What are you doing?”

“You’ve never gotten high before?” Jaskier giggled. “Aren’t you older than my grandparents?”

“No. I’m probably the same age,” Geralt frowned. The bard giggled again and lit the strange rolled bundle with a stick from the fire. He inhaled, held it for a few beats, and blew out a stream of thick blue smoke. His blue eyes watered and he sighed, his stiff shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Here,” Jaskier passed it to him. “Breathe in, hold for a second or two, and then breathe out.”

Geralt followed the bard’s instructions and found himself floating lightly within his own body, a comfortable buzz settled at the back of his skull. 

“How you do feel?”

“Good.”

“Alright,” the bard smiled gently and puffed half the strange herb down before offering it to the Witcher again. “If there’s no monsters in the immediate vicinity, you should have some more.”

“We’re safe,” Geralt nodded, accepting it. “What is this stuff?”

“Weed.”

“From the side of the road!?”

“No, it’s - “ Jaskier paused to chuckle and shake his head “ - it’s called cannabis and it’s good for relaxing. Like Catmint but much stronger.”

---

Fifteen minutes later, Geralt was spread out on his bedroll staring at the sky and Jaskier was laid out next to him, giggling quietly every once and awhile. “What’s so funny?” the Witcher asked.

“Just thinking about your butt,” Jaskier mused. “It’s a very nice butt, Geralt, really. You should hire someone to do a sketch and then sell erotic pamphlets when your Witchering business is slow.”

“What the fuck?” Geralt laughed. He would have been upset by such an absurd statement on an ordinary day, who would want to see a Witcher’s naked ass? but this experience wasn’t ordinary in the slightest. Jaskier’s warmth was so close and so tempting and he wanted to curl around the bard and...

“Are you purring, my sweet Witcher?” Jaskier asked, shooting up into a sitting position. Geralt stopped immediately and buried his face in his hands. The bards hands landed on his shoulders and started to shake him, “Don’t stop, Geralt, it was so cute!”

“Cute?” the Witcher asked from between his fingers. It was nearly a squeak (a manly squeak) and Jaskier fawned over his companion openly.

“You’re absolutely adorable,” the bard insisted. He gazed down at Geralt with wide, adoring blue eyes. “I’m going to follow you to the ends of the earth.”

Geralt sat up and leaned back against the log they’d been using as a chair. He gathered Jaskier into his lap and wrapped his arms tightly around the bard’s slender waist. He’d never noticed before just how well they fit together. Jaskier’s head could rest comfortably on his shoulder either standing or sitting. He could reach the bard’s lips from any position with relative ease.

It was almost like they were made for each other.

“Jaskier,” the Witcher murmured into the skin behind the bard’s ear. “I’d really like to kiss you, if you don’t mind.”

“I would be overjoyed,” Jaskier replied. His racing heartbeat only proved his eagerness to the curious Witcher, whose hand had moved to cup Jaskier’s face, seemingly of its own accord. 

The bard settled the weight of his head into Geralt’s palm and closed his eyes, tilting his chin until their lips were nearly touching. Geralt did the rest, leaning down and connecting them together in a moment of quiet, gentle happiness. 

He started purring again automatically and Jaskier’s joy permeated the air in thick, heavy waves. Geralt kissed him again, more passionately, his free hand gripping at the bard’s slender hip. When he pulled away for breath he let their foreheads rest together. “Gods, you’re so pretty.”

“As are you, my handsome Witcher.”

“Hmmm. Another?”

“Yes,” the bard sighed, leaning back and gazing up at the sky. “Another. And remind me to send my flower guy a thank-you note.”

[raparopa]

flirting with the witcher boys, please?

a/n:Hey! I'm really sorry it took so long, but now I'm back and I'll try to write more often than all this time))) I'm very glad that I'm here again)

warnings: nothing, i think

flirt

Geralt

-He is not easily embarrassed

-He easily recognizes when you are flirting with him

-He will smile at you and wait for what else you can say or do

- He is unlikely to answer you, it's just funny for him to watch. (and nice, of course)

-If you touch him, he will grunt, continuing to wait for your further actions.

-Geralt himself does not flirt, only sometimes he gives you unambiguous comments that make your ears redden.

-You don't need to flirt with him for a long time to make him smile, smirk, or guttural chuckle at your words.

- In short, you are sincerely trying to embarrass Geralt with your flirting, but ... it turns out the opposite

-His gaze, silence and smile directed at you...oh You drop your face into your palms, feeling your cheeks burning as you try to ease your awkwardness. And one second you get a soft kiss on the head

Eskel

-HAHAHAHAHA HE LIKE IT

-AND THAT HIS INCREDIBLE GRIN

-well, you can really try to embarrass him with your flirting, but there is one BUT - nothing can embarrass him. This is Eskel.

-When you flirt with him, he doesn't blink - he just looks at you with such a smile that a person who doesn't know the subtext will be scared.

- You won't win this war, it's out of the question. Eskel doesn't even need to say anything to make you blush from head to toe. But he will be pleasantly surprised if you don't back down. This is even more interesting.

-If you use touch while flirting, the witcher will soften. For him, this is a sign of true affection.

-You will end up just listening to flirting lessons from him while he twirls your hair around his finger and smirks.

- He usually flirts with you. -But encourages your cute moments of flirting.

Lambert

-It is very nice .

- And very embarrassing! Both sides, I think. You may start making cute comments in a rather cheerful way, but under his astonished amusement look, you immediately want to run out and scream into the pillow.

- In fact, he smiles stupidly at all your sharp comments, and looks around, as if he robbed the whole world.

- But let's be honest - he's a terrible flirt. Very strange, but funny. Have you ever been called a pinecone in a romantic context? No? then get ready.

-When you flirt, he will always throw you something in return that will make you smile for sure

- But, in truth, in five minutes, all the general (or just your) flirting will just go to the joke session.

-It is very rare that this does not happen.

-But, he will be very proud! So pout when you flirt with him!

-God, you better just hug him.

Jaskier

-OOOO MY GOD

- Self-proclaimed master of the art of flirting. Don't even dare to deny it. Never.

-Every day, every second, every moment spent with Jaskier is one continuous flirtation. Most often from his side, which is why you do not have enough strength, and you just roll your eyes with a smile.

-He sometimes does it wrong, but sometimes he manages to make you flare up

-Your flirting will make him stop breathing and think rationally for a few seconds

-If you act decisively, he will not be able to say a word to you - he will just look at you

-No, well, maybe of course he will try to parry, but he is unlikely to succeed

-You will turn him into a sixteen year old youth -He will go away and digest your actions only after a few hours. And even more embarrassed.

-Flirting is his communication style. He never expects people to respond to him in the same way. Be careful. Don't break it.

Cahir

- He doesn't flirt. Don't even think about getting him to make some kind of cute, ambiguous comment about your dress, or about your eyes. No.

-I wouldn't say that he's just throwing obvious things right in your face, no.

-He might sometimes say something that will make you blush and most likely hit him, but it will only amuse him.

- So in this relationship you are the main supplier of flirting.

- It's... strange for him. You say so many nice, sweet, loving things that it just confuses him.

-I think he won't even understand at first why you smile so broadly and wink at him across the room.

-He might think you're crazy. Or you got bitten by a tick.

-So, until you directly tell him that you are flirting with him, he will think that you are crazy.

-But he is pleased to realize that you are trying so hard to make him embarrassed or even a simple smirk ...

-He thinks you're cute when you flirt so casually with him.

Rience

-Do you want to play a game? You will get your game, in which everyone has equal chances.

- I'm sure, I'm SURE that he is able to flirt just by looking at you. Just looking at you over the top of a book, or a glass, gives you goosebumps. (God...)

-Everything that concerns the two of you concerns only the two of you. Even if you flirt where there are a lot of people, I doubt that anyone will notice.

-Flirting on your part will surprise him, but not much. I'm sure he'll just raise his eyebrows and grin as a sign that you can continue your game in this game.

-Believe me, he will be calm, relaxed, passionate. Again, this is a game.

- He will tease you. I wonder how your party will end. How hungry is he for touch? Very. Therefore, his fingers will not leave your arm, waist, cheek, shoulder. But if you cling to him, he will appreciate it even more.

- It's funny for him to watch your eyes, your smooth actions.

-You have the chance to win or lose, everything is in your hands.

-But whatever this game is, he feels relief and pleasure from your presence.)

[dapandapod]

Excuse me while i go all puddly and melty over here, How sweet are you and How cut was this fic?!?

Ifbdhfjfj!!! Thank you so much for writing it, it was an absolute delight!!!! Aahh!!! 🥺❤️

I Didn't Mean To Startle You

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier

Words: 1k

Read on Ao3

I wrote this for @dapandapod bc she reblogged my incorrect quotes post and added these tags:

And since she is one of my favorite fic writers in the fandom i tried writing it myself to show my appreciation 💖

Jaskier hummed the tune for a new song he was working on while he leisurely made his way up the inn’s stairs, repeating it again and again and making small changes here and there until he was satisfied with it. He had just gotten back from the street market and he was in high spirits.

His and Geralt’s travels forced them to be away from civilization more often than not, so when they found themselves in towns or even small villages, he always tried to make the most of it. His top priority was, of course, to perform in taverns in order to make coin, something that had become much easier and more profitable lately due to his steadily growing popularity.

Then he usually tried to replenish part of their traveling supplies (and maybe buy one or two small trinkets that caught his eye in the process) and last but not least, look for someone willing and attractive enough to sate his carnal urges and pent up frustrations with.

His promiscuous nature was by now well-known throughout the Continent, and many condemned him for it but Jaskier was only human, what else was he to do? He had needs, which, since his travel companion and object of his affections never showed any interest in helping him satisfy, the bard was left to deal with them the usual way.

So far he hadn’t had a chance get laid yet in this town but there was still time. The contract Geralt had took hadn’t been very specific with the details and the witcher had spent the entire previous night investigating the nearby forest for clues, so they’d probably be staying put for a couple more days at least. Hopefully the monster wasn't something boring, like a bunch of drowners, and Jaskier would be able to create a catchy song about it after Geralt was done slaying it

Jaskier pushed open the door to his and Geralt’s shared room and the tune he had been humming immediately died on his throat. The witcher was still gone by the time the bard woke up and left for the market, but it seemed he had returned in the meantime because there he was, sound asleep, the large bulk of him splayed on the bed.

Jaskier quietly placed his purchases down by the door and carefully tiptoed towards the witcher’s sleeping form, trying to get a better look.

For the 5 years they had been traveling together, Geralt almost always woke up at dawn before Jaskier and they usually fell asleep at around the same time so the bard rarely ever got to witness his friend like this: his face slack with sleep and lacking the frown that was seemingly permanently etched on it, his body relaxed and his chest rising and falling slowly as he breathed. It was such a peaceful sight and it made Jaskier’s heart swell with barely contained longing.

He stood still while staring at the witcher for a few minutes, drinking in the sight of him, when he noticed a semi-withered leaf sticking out from the top of his silver hair. The bard smiled fondly, imagining how much time his friend had likely spent crouched behind bushes and the like to end up like this.

He reached out his hand, bringing it closer to the wither’s face slowly with the intend to remove the leaf when suddenly, Geralt’s eyes snapped open and he grabbed Jaskier’s wrist as he sat up. In less than a second he had pulled Jaskier down to the bed and climbed on top of him, pinning the bard in place. Jaskier’s eyes widened, and he let out a soft grunt as his back hit the mattress, the air having completely left his lungs.

He looked up at the witcher hovering above him in surprise. Geralt had an unreadable expression on his face but he was breathing normally, as if he hadn’t exerted himself in the slightest.

“Sorry, I thought you were an intruder.” He muttered sheepishly in his gruff baritone voice.

“O-oh, no worries.” Jaskier said when he found his voice again. “I was just trying to remove a leaf from your head, I didn’t mean to startle you…” he said and trailed off before he started rambling as he was known to do because he noticed that Geralt’s expression had turned hungry and his gaze had shifted from Jaskier's eyes to his lips. The bard licked them self-consciously, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart but it was a fruitless endeavor since the muscle started to move even faster inside his chest as Geralt slowly lowered himself, his face getting closer and closer to the bard’s own.

Jaskier got the hint and in turn pushed his torso up as much as he was able to with the witcher still pinning his wrists down. He closed his eyes, giddily anticipating the moment their lips would touch each other. His biggest, wildest and most unattainable dream was, against all odds, finally coming true. They were less than an inch apart and Jaskier could feel Geralt’s warm breath on his face when a sudden thought had him pulling back and squinting suspiciously up at his friend.

“Wait a minute.”

Geralt paused and pulled back as well, looking confused and maybe a little disappointed. He tilted his head to the side with a questioning ‘hm’ which Jaskier took as his cue to continue.

“I distinctly remember you once saying that you had gotten used to my presence and that you couldn’t get startled by me anymore.”

Geralt’s face flushed. He swiftly released Jaskier’s wrists and got up, taking large strides towards the entrance of the room. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He got to the door and threw it open forcefully. “I gotta go check on Roach.”

And with those last words he disappeared. Jaskier stayed lying there for a few seconds, disoriented, before he sprung up from the bed vigorously and ran after his companion.

“Don’t you dare run away from me witcher, we are having this conversation!”

[falcqns]

idk if you’re still taking these with the new rules so if you aren’t please just ignore me lol but do you think daddy andy would help baby shave? (or any of the daddy’s in your aus honestly) i think that would be so cute🥺

okay wait this is such a cute idea so im gonna do all of them 🥺🥺

𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: daddy!Andy Barber x little!Reader (Baby), daddy!Geralt of Rivia x little!Reader, daddy!Bucky Barnes x little!Reader (Plum), daddy!August Walker x little!Reader, daddy!Chris Evans x foster!little!Reader (+ bonus mama!Reader helping little!Chris and mama!Reader helping little!Bucky!)

✰ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you're daddies help you shave, and you help your boys shave!

✰ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cg/l, ddlg, mdlb, shaving, mentions of hospitals and abusive relationships. if i missed anything pls let me know!

✰ 𝐚/𝐧: this was so cute and i love this concept sm 🥺🥺🥺🥺 i added my au daddies, and a few from upcoming fics that are in the works, along with the (sort of) premise of each story!

to who ever reads this: don't bother asking for a part two, you won't get it. i am the owner of this fic, and this blog, and I, and only I, will decided what fic gets a part two and when. respect me and my wishes or get off my blog. thanks!

don't forget to read and reblog, and i do not give permission for my works to be posted anywhere other than tumblr. thank you.

"sit still Bubba," Andy said, rubbing the shaving cream into your soft, freshly showered skin. "Dada doesn't want to nick you with this." he said, showing your purple razor.

"otay, Dada," you babbled back, your hands wrapped around your stuffed dolphin. you hummed as you watched Andy glide the razor up your leg, and over your knee. he reached your inner thigh, and you giggled. "'ickles, Dada!" you exclaimed around your paci, and Andy chuckled.

"sorry, Bubba." he said as he switched legs, repeating the action, smiling again when you giggled at his actions again. "there, pretty girl." he said, rinsing the razor off and putting it away. "all done!"

you stood up, and rubbed your clean shaven legs together. you giggled and bounced and lifted your arms up for Andy to lift you. "t'ank you, Dada." you said, and Andy kissed your forehead, despite wanting to kiss your lips.

"you're welcome honey."

"you must sit still, flower." Geralt said, dipping the piece of metal that Geralt had sharpened and shaped into a straight razor to use on his face into a small cup of water. "i do not want you hurting yourself."

"yes, Papa." you whispered, hands curling into the material of the dress that you were wearing. you had only been with Geralt for a few weeks now, and you were still nervous around him. he was big, and you knew he could crush you without a second thought. you'd seen it with your own eyes, but you hoped he wouldn't.

he ran the razor up your leg, humming a tune as he did so. you gazed out the window of the inn, and smiled when you saw Jaskier walking back in from collecting some food from the market. you had tried the food at the inn and didn't like it, so Geralt sent the Bard on a mission to get you something you would tolerate.

"Papa," you said in your sweet voice.

"yes, my flower?" he said, looking up at you as he switched legs, a smile on his face.

"Uncle Jaskier is back," you said, and Geralt smiled.

"well, that's good. we can get your tummy full before going to bed."

you babbled around your paci as Bucky slowly shaved your legs. you were going to Bruce for some testing tomorrow, and your legs and nether region had to be free of all hair so that Bruce could get to the bottom of what happened to you.

you giggled when Bucky blew on your freshly shaved skin. he smiled up at you, and tickled your belly lightly, making you shriek in laughter. "god, i love that sound," Bucky said to himself, picking up the razor once more and working on the rest of your body as you showed him your Bucky Bear that your Uncle Tony had given you.

"Dada!" you said, his title being the only word you said. "a'Da!" you said, shoving the bear in his face.

"Plum, Daddy has to see to do this. he doesn't want to hurt you." he said, kissing your belly and angling your arms above your head as he continued to shave your legs.

"no!" you shrieked, sitting on your bum and crossing your arms. "no wanna!"

"i know, princess." August said, crouching down to eye level with you. "but we need to. you need to look professional for tomorrow." he said, dread filling his stomach at the thought of you taking the stand against that man tomorrow. "why don't you want to?" he asked softly, and you whimpered.

"'cawed." you whispered, and August sighed, sitting down and pulling you into his lap.

"my little princess." he whispered, rubbing your back. "i will not hurt you." he said, kissing your forehead. "you know that Daddy will do anything to protect you, right?" he said, and you nodded, cuddling into his wide chest. "good. maybe we can find you some dress pants instead of a skirt, would that make you feel better?" he asked, and you nodded.

"okay, princess. let's get you sorted."

"okay, darling." Chris said, maneuvering you to sit on the closed toilet. he had just given you your first bath with him, and he was preparing to shave your legs for the first time.

he ran the shaving cream into a line, and then rubbed it in with his hands over your bare legs, glancing up at you to make sure you were still okay. "shhhh, honey," he whispered seeing your eyes welling up with tears. "'m not gonna hurt you," he promised. "'m not him, okay?"

you nodded, and suckled on your paci as hard as you could, trying to calm yourself down, your hands gripping your doll.

"gonna be so gentle." Chris said, running the razor up your leg, giving you a smile. "there, see?" he said. "one strip done!" you smiled small, and Chris felt happiness bloom in his chest.

'baby steps,' he thought to himself. 'she'll get there soon.'

Chris held onto Anthony's hand as you slowly ran the razor over Chris's beard.

"doin' so well, buddy." Anthony praised, despite the sniffles Chris was producing. "as soon as you're done shooting, you can grow it back."

Chris pouted slightly. "gon' wook ugly." he whispered, and you immediately put the razor down. you grasped his face, and made him look at you. "don't you dare say that." you said, making him shed his tears.

"you're our beautiful baby boy, no matter what." Anthony chimed in. "we both love you, so so much. get those thoughts out of your head because not a single one of them is true." he said, and leaned forward to kiss Chris. Chris sighed into the kiss and nodded when they parted.

"otay, Dada." he said, and turned to let you continue what you were doing.

"wan' off!" Bucky cried, kicking his feet and rubbing his face harshly with his flesh hand. "ah dun!"

"i know, sweet boy." you cooed, getting the razor and shaving cream out. he was having a rough day, and his sensory issues were off the charts, and he was less than a minute away from a full meltdown, which more often than not, led to a seizure. "here we go," you said, coming over to where he was plopped on the floor, his back against the wall.

you lathered his face with the shaving cream, and slowly began to shave, smiling when his tears stopped, and he began to smile, the itchy hairs falling away.

[julek]

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#5

so back when the year started, @srapsodia gave me the best birthday gift i could’ve ever asked for (my boys being Soft and In Bed) and i forgot to share them with the world. thank you, raps, for thinking of me and giving me Them <3

992 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

#4

read on ao3

When Geralt sees the body on the table, he shakes his head with something akin to fondness.

“We need to stop meeting like this,” he tells Jaskier, whose eyes haven’t opened yet, whose skin still shines pale and unblemished. “One day I’ll really dissect you.”

“Mm,” Jaskier grunts, displeased.

Geralt takes his apron off, given his services won’t be needed with this particular costumer, and leans back against the sink of the mortuary to wait. It usually takes Jaskier a few minutes to regain movement of his limbs, a few more minutes to get his words back.

“What was it this time?” Geralt asks conversationally, mostly because he knows Jaskier won’t answer him. “Jealous husband poisoned your meal? Didn’t look where you were going and shared a kiss with the local transport vehicle?”

“Hng.”

Geralt nods, reaching for the cabinet door. “I know it’s cold. I’m sorry. You know how it is.”

He lays a blanket over Jaskier’s still-rigid legs, and checks his pulse. Faint, but there.

“Just a few more minutes,” he says, watching blood slowly color Jaskier’s cheeks, flowing down the purple-blue veins under his eyes. His arms are twitching. “You want coffee or tea? I got croissants from the bakery you like.”

“‘ea,” Jaskier manages.

“Okay,” Geralt says. “We can breakfast upstairs. I know you don’t like the smell in here.”

Geralt does, though. There’s something about the smell of formaldehyde and antiseptic that soothes his mind. He’s surprised, really, that, for someone who’s visited his mortuary so many times, Jaskier still hasn’t gotten used to it.

Some things aren’t for him to know.

“Ah,” Geralt murmurs, Jaskier’s blue eyes blinking hazily at him. “Welcome back.”

Jaskier glowers at him. It looks more cute than menacing.

Geralt pushes Jaskier’s hair back, presses a kiss to his forehead. Ice cold, as usual.

“When I said I couldn’t do date night because work was busy,” he whispers, “I didn’t mean for you to literally show up at work.”

Jaskier raises his eyebrows, as if to say well, and immediately grimaces. Expressive facial gestures right after waking up mess up with the slow progress his body makes, and now he’ll be stuck with an inquisitive expression for a few hours.

Geralt definitely doesn’t laugh at him.

(He does). (A little). (He also makes some horrible puns). (Jaskier will make him pay, later).

Jaskier’s hand intertwines with his own. A weak embrace, but Geralt can feel the warmth of his touch in his soul.

“Roach missed you,” he tells him, linking their fingers together. “She’ll be delighted to see you.”

Jaskier’s head turns slightly.

“Well, maybe not delighted. Amused, at least.”

“Mm.”

Finally, Jaskier’s legs regain blood flow, and he shakes them out a little. Geralt helps him sit up on the table.

“How are you feeling?”

Jaskier nods. He looks tired, as he often does after waking up, but everything else seems normal.

“Okay,” Geralt says. He presses his forehead against Jaskier’s. “Still like your tea with four sugars, then?”

See the full post

1,000 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

#3

“Jas,” Geralt calls, not taking his eyes off his journal.

Jaskier stops strumming his lute with a palm on the strings. “Yes?”

“Would you pass me an orange from our pack?”

He hears Jaskier murmur an assent, and goes back to the ardent task of drawing a cockatrice that resembles the one he’d fought the week prior. There’s a rustling sound as Jaskier rifles through their things, a triumphant little ah-ha! as Jaskier, presumably, finds the orange, but then, there’s silence.

Geralt sketches the final lines of the cockatrice to his satisfaction, and takes a look behind him to see what could be taking Jaskier so long in the simple delivery of the fruit.

He finds Jaskier poking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, brow furrowed in concentration as he picks at the orange between prying fingers.

“What are you doing?” Geralt asks, coming to crouch beside him.

“Oh!” Jaskier says, his eyes snapping up, as if he’d forgotten Geralt was there at all. “I was just getting all the white stuff out for you,” he says, and presents his palms to Geralt.

It’s a small orange, halved, bright and plump in Jaskier’s hands, and all the white tendrils have been carefully removed.

For him.

The orange almost flies into the other direction when Geralt surges to kiss him.

“Oh,” Jaskier says when they break apart, flustered and a little dazed. “What brought that on?”

Geralt smiles, taking one half of the orange into his hands.

“You.”

1,046 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

#2

“Yen,” Geralt says through gritted teeth. “It’s not wearing off.”

She peers at him across the table. “What isn’t?”

He growls. The potion, he wants to say, the stupid potion that had been innocently placed among his own elixirs, wearing a nondescript label and looking innocuous enough. The potion that is making his every thought escape through his tongue and jump out of his mouth, into the world of the living.

That potion.

“Mm,” she nods. “It’ll go away soon enough. The urge.”

They both follow Jaskier’s moving figure with their eyes, the bard prancing around the tavern floorboards with practiced ease and a salacious grin on his pink-bitten lips. They watch as he belts out a high note, sweat clinging to his skin, pooling in the hollow of his throat, uncovered now that he’s shed his doublet on the back of a chair.

Geralt tries very hard not to imagine what it would feel like to put his mouth there, because it’s a stupid thing to think, and because the filter that usually keeps stupid thoughts at the back of his mind where they belong is broken, and it would be very unwise to let such imaginings out in the wild.

But—

“Seems our bard has found himself some company,” Yennefer says, a smug smirk on her lips, as she waves in his general direction. “Such a handsome fellow, too.”

And, because he’s weak, Geralt tears his gaze from a knot on the wooden table and finds that Jaskier’s singing has stopped, and he’s now animatedly chatting with a patron. A broad-shouldered, heavy-handed man, with charming brown eyes and curls that bounce on his head every time he laughs that musical laughter at something Jaskier’s said, and a well-trimmed beard that frames his face ever so nicely. A man whose hand is resting on Jaskier’s forearm, his thumb rubbing distracted circles on it as Jaskier draws closer and closer.

Geralt’s tankard creaks ominously in his hand.

Yen has the gall to look amused. “Anything on your mind, dear?”

Geralt tries to ignore the way his mind is screaming at him, but it doesn’t work, of course, because that godsdamned serum is still coursing through his veins, still making him— “I want to draw my sword and place it on that man’s neck and watch him sweat, and when I’ve made sure he’s gone I want to take Jaskier back here and have him sit on my lap and show everyone who he belongs to.”

It all comes out in one breath, so fast that he doesn’t have time to feel ashamed, and he feels as though he’s never talked so much in his life. He probably hasn’t.

“Interesting,” says Yen, watching Jaskier saunter back to their table. “Very interesting.”

1,213 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Jaskier turns in his bedroll again.

“—fucking winter and its wintery fucking— cold as balls, ice frozen—”

“Jask?”

“—good for nothing— oh.” His tossing stops. The ground is so fucking cold. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

One golden eye peers at him. He would say Geralt looked annoyed, but he can’t see most of his face, tucked as it is under his cloak, so he chooses to interpret it as friendly concern. “Your muttering did.”

Jaskier smiles sheepishly at him, even though Geralt probably can’t see him either, with his scarf tied around his neck and covering most of his face. “Sorry. Just...”

“Can’t sleep?”

Jaskier shakes his head. It’s their fifth year on the Path together, the first one Geralt’s invited him along to spend the winter at Kaer Morhen with him — and Jaskier’s excited, really, but sleeping on the forest floor with a thin bedroll and definitely not enough blankets kind of dampens his spirits a little.

They’ve laid their bedrolls side by side, the fire keeping their feet warm, but still Jaskier can’t fend off the chill that’s seeped into his bones. He would blame it on his frilly, beautifully impractical clothing, with its soft but thin fabrics, with its stunning trim but no insulation, but if he did, he’d basically be agreeing with Geralt, and he can’t have that. Not even in the privacy of his own mind.

(He still hasn’t ruled out the possibility that Witchers are mind-readers). (Geralt is awfully quiet whenever Jaskier brings it up, and, well, one can never be too careful).

So he’s been tossing and turning and singing lullabies to himself in a feeble attempt of finally succumbing to a warm, deep sleep. Not that it’s worked, anyway.

The single golden eye looks considering, now.

“Wha—?” Jaskier manages before Geralt stands up, the bare skin under his sleep shirt immediately reacting to the cold air of the forest and erupting in gooseflesh.

Then, a blanket is being tossed to his face.

(It smells like horse).

“There,” says Geralt, not unkindly, his voice a bit rough. “That’ll help.”

“Well,” Jaskier replies, trying to adjust the blanket without taking his hands out of his bedroll, which proves impossible. “Thanks.”

Before he can sit up straight and, like a sane person, rearrange the blanket on top of himself, Geralt’s doing it for him. His hair is a mess from where he’s been laying on it and he’s squinting, but his hands are warm as they reach for the ends of the blanket and he tucks them into Jaskier’s bedroll, making sure his body is covered.

“You’re tucking me in,” Jaskier whispers, something that suspiciously feels like love standing on his heart a little.

Geralt smiles. He smiles his soft smile, the one where his lips stretch over his face and they’re pink and pretty and there’s a shine in his eyes.

“I guess I am,” he replies, checking no corners have been missed. “We’ll reach the mountain soon. No more cold nights after that.”

Jaskier smiles. He doesn’t know what it might look like on his face, lips chapped and slightly cracked. He hopes it shows his gratitude for him.

Geralt sits back on his haunches. The smile is still there. Fonder, somehow.

“What, no kiss goodnight?” Jaskier murmurs, because he’s an idiot, because he can’t help himself.

“Mm,” Geralt says, and for a second, Jaskier thinks he’s getting up to leave, but then Geralt leans forward and there’s a gentle, sweet kiss being pressed to his forehead. His smile is bigger when he turns away. “There. Goodnight.”

Jaskier can feel the warmth on his skin, the skin Geralt pressed a kiss to. He can feel it seeping into his bones.

When he turns around, blanket firmly secured, Geralt is watching him from his own bedroll.

“Goodnight,” he mouths at him, and Geralt closes his eyes.

His cloak is covering half his face again, but Jaskier can see the smile he’s hiding anyway.

1,612 notes - Posted May 4, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[lana-1526]

Songs for my witcher fae au

This probably won’t make sense until you read this part but tldr jaskier is a fae and there’s a lot of singing.

Spring:

So like basically if the spring is going to be somewhat miserable (still cold, not much plant growth in general or things like that) then maybe It Happened Quiet by Aurora would be a perfect fit. Very haunting, most especially with this specific version of the song.  

And of course an The Amazing Devil song is going to end up in a Witcher post so Secret Worlds as an exchanging song with spring seems kind of fitting 

also a cute one where Jaskier is singing/doing his job with Soldier Poet king while traveling with Geralt is on repeat in my brain and it won’t stop. 

Summer:

Ok I did say previously that Jaskier’s sister is lowkey a little shit. And I can’t remember if fanon or canon but I think that monsters are very rampant in the summer, so the main song could be more feral. So in essence, Only Us by Miracle of Sound seems good for me.

Another like happy song is New River by The Oh Hellos or Teir Abhaile Riu by the Celtic woman

OH OH OH but tir na nog to mess with witchers specifically cuz the lyrics bear the mark of my elven kiss would absolutely confuse so many people and ahem very oblivious witchers geralt

Fall: 

So i’ve kinda decided this sibling is gender neutral cuz i can’t decide on any but i’m not gender neutral myself but anyway song time

Luna by Iniko with the addition of the extra verses pls

no i will not explain why its just so pretty

also this absolutely because the eng version is reverberation of reality just screams autumn to me: Virkelighetens Etterklang by Kalandra

Winter:

inhale mmmmmmm all i can think is cold mama like dang

Running with the Wolves by Aurora for a serene winter then turning into the wolfwalkers version once Jaskier’s side of the family gets close with the wolves of Kaer Morhen

blizzard would ovs be That Unwanted Animal by the Amazing Devil

Nature boy - Acoustic by Aurora is a good starting of winter song or a transition between fall to winter 

Au Parts: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

That’s all I got so far but oh if anyone sees this pls pls pls comment more songs i so badly need new songs in my playlist lmao

[timetraveladdict]

Episode 4

SPOILER

SPOILER

SPOILER

SPOILER

SPOILER

SPOILER

SPOILER

SPOILER

I confused Vilgefortz with Istredd. So Tissaia is fucking Vilgefortz. Ok. It’s Triss fucking Istredd probably.

Good speech Yenn.

Ciri & Geralt father daughter bonding time is adorable.

Ciri & Jaskier bonding time is adorable! Smiling lessons!!!

Finally, finally Valdo Marx with evil moustache!!! Is this a Glee club? It was so funny!!! 😂😂😂

No, Valdo, no. You don’t make fun of my boy Jaskier.

😂😂😂 Jaskier and Ciri imitating Geralt and Yennefer like in the books. It’s cute and made me laugh!

Are Jaskier and Ciri playing Gwent?

Jaskier is so sweet and encouraging with her.

Oh look, the kissing between Jaskier and Radovid… it wasn’t as bad as I expected but to me it felt a little forced? It still was a nice scene btw. At least Radovid was sincere.

That song! That song! It makes me sad and Joey Batey is so talented…

Hey, Triss' hair looks a bit better at the party. And she is so right in warning Yennefer.

For people like me who have read the books, we already know who the mastermind is behind Rience and the whole thing. I wonder how the other people will take it?

[eggcompany]

A Chilly Young Lad Part 2

“You know, you look cute sleeping.” Julian said as he continued to twirl and play with a certain strand on Geralt’s hair. The witcher blinked open and squinted at him. Julian bent to kiss him again. It was short and chaste but loving. 

“Cute with your face all scrunched up too. Sit up and I’ll go fetch us dinner. You must be starved.” Julian said and got out of the bed. He was still naked as day as he walked around to find his sleep pants and a loose chemise. 

Geralt sat up and looked down at himself. He felt disheveled but everything was still there. Leg, Leg, foot, foot, prick, guts, hand, hand, arm, arm, head. Yet that’s all of it. Geralt listed off in his head as he stretched. He yawned and Julian stared at him. 

“I’ll brush your hair while you eat. You look a bit like a hag.” Julian snickered and Geralt scowled at him. Jaskier blew him a kiss and hopped out the door. 

Geralt blinked a bit more and looked around. There was stuff everywhere… didn’t look like a rich person’s room at all. There were papers and notebooks covering a small table, clothes scattered the floor and hung out of the open cupboard. Geralt stood up and stretched and cracked his back. Maybe Julian’s clothes would fit? They were about the same size, lest Geralt be a bit taller. He’d just had the human’s cock inside of him, this shouldn't feel like a panty raid. 

He walked over to the cupboard where fine dublettes and trousers were scattered. Much too fancy. He opened a drawer and ah plain white chemises. He grabbed out and pulled it over his head. It was a bit loose around the middle and shoulders. 

He opened the next drawer which he first thought to be full of fancy attire but upon closer inspection was full of silky underclothes. He picked a pair up to examine them and they looked… like something whores wear. He put them down and closed the drawer and opened the bottom one. He sighed as he found a few pairs of sleep pants, soft with tie up tops. He grabbed a pair and held them up. He would need to tie them but they would be comfortable. 

He was tying them up when the door opened again. 

“Yes Master Julian, you can just leave them for when we come up in the morning.” A woman's voice rang out alongside Julian’s. Geralt felt frozen, standing there with sex hair wearing another boy’s clothes? He panicked and stood flat against the wall next to the cupboard. He held his breath and listened. 

“Thank you for the help! I’ll get him and we can just eat over there so he doesn’t need to navigate the disaster of..my...room… Geralt? Geralt are you in here?” Julian called out as he walked into the room Geralt didn’t dare move a muscle until he heard a second door close and a woman bid him a good night. He stepped forward and Julian smiled and sighed. 

“I thought you’d hopped out the window. Oh you found some clothes, good! I think poor Liz is scarred just from seeing your back when you first arrived. Come now, the hearth is lit and there’s plenty of ale.” Julian said and grasped Geralt’s hand. He had such oddly callused hands. His palms were soft and warm but his fingers were tough and scratchy. 

Julian led him to the room next to his, the bed was dressed and indeed the small hearth was lit. There was a small table that mirrored the one Julian’s room. There were two bowls of something steaming, a large loaf of bread, and two mugs of ale. Geralt rushed over and sat down and tore off a large piece of the bread. He moaned as the warm rich bread hit his tongue. Julian sat down across from him giggling. 

“It’s rude to orgasm at the table, Witcher.” He said and took a smaller piece of bread and dipped it into the thick white soup. There were what looked like pieces of shredded chicken and a dough? Boiled dough? Geralt looked at it as he ate the large bite of bread. 

“It’s chicken in thick soup with strips of dough. You’ll like it. It’s rich and has some nice spices.” Julian explained as he got another piece of bread. Geralt looked at him and nodded. He ripped off another large chunk of bread and submerged it into the bowl. He brought the dripping piece up to his mouth. He took a big bite and sunk down in his chair moaning loudly, his eyes closing as he chewed. He opened his eyes and started to eat quickly, leaning over his bowl proactively. Julian placed his hand on Geralt’s forearm. 

“Hey, no one’s going to take it away. You’ll get a stomach ache if you keep eating like that. We could go eat in the kitchen if you’d like. You could get more of anything you want. There’s plenty of food. Slow down.” Julian told him and Geralt stared up at his eyes. Clear and truthful eyes. Geralt nodded and swallowed what he had.

“‘S good food. Warm. Nice. I haven’t had chicken in a long time. Or really any home made food. Or anything that actually tastes good…” Geralt mumbled and took a long drink of the warm ale. He felt warm and slow and safe. His stomach was thanking him and he felt like he could think better. 

“What do you eat? While you travel, I mean.” Julian asked. 

They ended up talking for hours. Eating the warm rich soup and drinking two pitchers of ale, they became relaxed and loose. 

After they finished eating (and Julian’s four trips to fetch more soup and bread for his guest), they moved back to the viscount’s bedroom. Julian showed Geralt his lute and pages and pages of songs and ballads that he had written or was working on. Geralt showed him the books and bestiary and told him about the battles he’s had since he left Kaer Morhen. They spoke of friends and life and mundane little things that Geralt never got to talk about. They sat together facing each other criss-cross with their knees touching. Geralt liked it. He liked being able to watch up close the way Julian’s mouth moved, his tongue against his teeth, his smile, the dramatic way spoke was so easy to watch. 

“You know Geralt, you have such a beautiful face. I think my favorite bit is your nose. It’s cute.” Julian said and crawled to sit in the basket of the witcher’s legs. Geralt looked at him with wide alcohol blown eyes. 

“I like your face too.” He said while looking dumbly at the human’s face. Julian laughed, a rich real laugh that made Geralt feel warm in his chest. Julian threw his arms over Geralt’s shoulders and rested his forehead against the other’s.

“So eloquent, practically poetry.” Julian teased and opened his eyes to look at Geralt but was guilty when he saw the monster hunter’s face. 

Geralt was pouting, eyebrows scrunched together, lips pouted out, eyes downcast, his shoulders hunched under Julian’s arms. Julian pulled back and cradled his face. 

“I was joking! I was just joking. I love the way you communicate. You… you’re so cute. Like a little bunny. With fangs… and claws… and the body of a wolf… I think it’s charming. I like all of you.” Julian said and kept his eyes on Geralt’s. The older boy looked at him with a worried expression. 

“Do you really? Cause I think you’re like my favorite human. You’re so warm and nice and you smell really really good like really good like I could lick you all over… wait um… humans don’t lick each other do they…” Geralt said and Julian knew the face of self scolding. Julian ran his thumb over the witcher’s unfairly soft bottom lip. Julian considered it… he thought a witcher could smell something inhuman let alone taste. Though the idea of Geralt tasting him did make him a bit hotter. 

“You can, if you want to.” Julian says quietly before sealing their lips. Geralt moaned and wrapped his arms around Julian’s hips, pulling him closer. Julian smiled as the other boy opened his mouth, but he pulled away. Geralt made a disgruntled noise and looked at Julian’s kiss bruised lips. 

“We have so much time. The storm is still raging, you can explore me if you want. Taste me…” Julian whispered as Geralt ran his hands up under the boy’s shirt. 

The night ended with Julian, nude and exhausted, sleeping with a content clothed witcher on his chest. Geralt had chosen to thoroughly lick, nip, and suck Julian’s body (Enthusiastically around his crotch and strangely his armpits, Julian was sure his soul left via orgasm.) 

Each day brought something new. Geralt cleaning his armor, Julian watching in pure rapture. Geralt throwing himself down by the fire much like a dog flopping over to sleep, Julian sitting in a rocking chair and rocking himself by pushing off Geralt's stomach with his feet. Julian introducing Geralt to the two servant women who smile but look incredibly nervous, Geralt hides behind him the entire time. Geralt tends to Roach and Julian befriends her automatically, she pushes Geralt into the snow. Julian and Geralt stay in bed all day talking and such. 

Julian learned that Geralt liked- no loved riding him.  He also learned that Geralt’s hair flies up when he really throws himself down onto his cock. Geralt learns that Julian will tolerate being fucked but rather be balls deep into a certain witcher. 

Each day they touched each other, explored each other, kissed, nipped, and licked each other. At night they bathed together and had dinner together and joined in the evenings. Finally after a few nights the talking started. The quiet ‘ Take me with you when you leave. I want to run away. We could do this every night, even in the wild we could couple in the brush. It’d be so exciting…’ Julian would whisper in Geralt’s ear as he rocked back and forth in the tight clasp on Geralt’s body.

<- Last Chapter Next Chapter ->

[popcorn1989]

hii (again lmao) could i request a headcanons with the witcher boys and how they would comfort you after you´ve had a terrible nightmare (like comfort/fluff) (especialy for cahir maybe :O)

that would be great thanks :D

ps.: the last fic was amazing btw >.<

Hi there,

I would like to thank you for a moment, and I think it's great how many ideas you have.

To be honest, I'm not sure if it turned out headcanon, because it turned out to be more than, I thought, it would be. So I only picked four characters that I thought could be super cute.

Hope you enjoy

Ⓒⓐⓗⓘⓡ

You tossed and turned in your sleep for a few minutes, when you woke up with a start, you immediately saw Cahir's attentive face. "It was just a dream," he said, taking your face in his hand. You glimpse your dream "It was so real" you said and noticed, how Cahir came closer and kissed you. "I'm here and as long as I'm here, no one can harm you," he whispered and lay down next to you. "I'll fall asleep, and I'm sure I'll dream about it again," you said, placing a hand on his chest. Cahir put his arm around you "Then dream that I am there and evil will not dare, to haunt you in your sleep" He kissed your forehead and played with your hair "I will stay awake, until I know that you are in a peaceful sleep" these words calm you down, you notice his closeness, his tenderness, and it doesn't take long until you fall asleep again. You will never know, that he watches over your sleep all night.

Ⓡⓘⓔⓝⓒⓔ

You wake up from your dream with a racing heart and realize that the bed next to you is empty. Rience wasn't lying next to you anymore. You looked around the room, when you see him sitting on a chair next to you, he had been watching you, now that you are awake he got up, he had dressed. "I will eliminate what bothers you" he said in a calm and tender tone. You couldn't help but grin, and he gave you a questioning look. "Can you protect me from myself too?" you asked and saw his attitude change. "If you tell me how, then I'll try it" he said and lay down next to you, hugging you with his arms and resting his forehead on your temple, "Tell me about it" he said quietly in your ear. Before you both go back to sleep, you were able to tell Rience, all your doubts and explain your dream, even if Rience didn't really say anything about it, your life was getting a little easier, and you couldn't help it, but you felt that Rience was had fingers in the pie.

Ⓙⓐⓚⓢⓘⓔⓡ

When you wake up with a scream, you startle again when next to you, Jaskier also starts screaming. He put a hand on the side of his heart and yelled "don't do that to me" you looked at him a little confused, "sorry sweetheart, I was having an absolute nightmare." You saw how jaskier looked around the room and swallowed. "Okay, thought, we would be attacked" he turned slightly to you and looked at you. "May I tell you about it?" He gave you a quick look as if he had seen a monster then he nodded as you started saying a monster was chasing you in the dream, he hissed loudly. "God, stop it... it was just a dream, come here," he said, hugged you, and you lay back on the pillows. You thought it was so funny that you briefly tell, what the monster looked like, before he put his hand over your mouth to silence you. "Sleep Sweetie, Please"

Ⓛⓐⓜⓑⓔⓡⓣ

When you wake up, sweating and your hair disheveled, Lambert is lying quietly next to you, snoring. The dream kept coming back into your head and frightening you, so much that you tried to wake Lambert. It took a long time but when it came true he looked at you questioningly and patted your face "What's wrong?" he asked, and you were very pleased with the question. Lambert loved to laugh and crack jokes, but when it came to standing by your side, he was a rock and no one would dare hurt you. Also, there was something about him, that calmed you down, and he always knew the right words, just like now when you told him about the nightmare, and although he smirked, he managed to calm you down. You were allowed to fall asleep again, on his chest, and before you fall into a peaceful sleep, he had long since fallen asleep again.

[samstree]

A Study in Blushing

In which Jaskier makes a surprising discovery and decides to test it out.

(tooth rotting fluff, blushing geralt, soft jaskier, love confessions, kissing, winter at kaer morhen, rated teen, 3000 words)

Also, I know witchers can't blush in canon but seriously we should all know better.

read on AO3

“Gods damn it, bard! I know Geralt tolerates all your shit because he’s in love with you, but you gotta put things back where they belong!”

Lambert grumbles something more all the while putting the training swords back on the shelf, and Jaskier’s mind stops.

The world zeroes in on the words he’s in love with you and suddenly Jaskier can’t form words.

“W...What did you—”

“I said—” Lambert throws down the last one with a clunk. “—the swords go back on the shelf!”

“Geralt...is in love with me?” Jaskier breathes, unbelieving.

Lambert pauses, “Don’t you know?”

“No...?”

“Fuck. Pretty boy can’t get his head out of his ass and now I have to suffer.”

With that, Lambert tries to shoulder past Jaskier but the bard is having none of it. “No!” he puts a hand on Lambert’s chest. “Don’t even think about it. How? Since when? And how do you know?”

Lambert mumbles something unintelligible, before sighing long-sufferingly. “It’s too obvious, Buttercup.”

“How is it obvious? Does Geralt walk around with the words ‘I’m smitten with my bard and all the grumpy face is faked’ written on his forehead? How, pray tell, is it obvious?”

“Yeah, pretty much.” Lambert, the bastard, raises an eyebrow in amusement. “Did you truly not know?”

“No!”

Jaskier is so close to grabbing Lambert by the collar just to shake some answers out of him, and finally, the youngest wolf takes pity on him.

“He looks at you differently when he thinks you are doing something cute. He trips over his words after you call him sweet names. The worst of it all—he blushes any time you are close. Blushes, like a fucking maiden. Urgh, I’m gonna throw up.”

“Oh,” Jaskier deflates, “Witchers blush?”

“See for yourself.” Lambert rolls his eyes, walking past Jaskier with a few long strides. “And put the swords back!”

 ~~

Jaskier decides to test it out, because there’s no way Geralt is in love with him.

Loving him as a friend, sure, why not? Despite what ignorant folks claim about witchers, Jaskier knows by experience that Geralt has a heart bigger and more capable of love than most. But Geralt being in love with Jaskier? Like, he-wants-to-kiss-him in love with him? No way.

Blushing because of him? Ha! More like in Jaskier’s wildest dreams.

Although that would be really cute.

“Pass me the salt, honey?” Jaskier reaches out a hand to the other end of the table, and Geralt passes the salt without thinking.

Hmm.

No tripping over words.

“Thank you, dear heart.”

He’s putting as much sweetness in his voice as possible and Geralt is…normal. His eyebrows are raised to the roof, and there’s a faint smile by the corners of his eyes. But that’s just how Geralt is…right? He’s home and he’s relaxed, he smiles with his eyes rather than his lips, and it’s got nothing to do with Jaskier.

Jaskier chews, staring at Geralt subtly.

Not subtle enough.

“Something on my face?”

“No—” Jaskier chokes, hacking like a fool and tipping sideways. “Just—too much salt.”

Geralt scoffs, the faint smile turning into a brief grin, and hands over a cup of water.

Jaskier wants the ground to swallow him whole.

 ~~

The snow is terrible.

The whole keep is freezing like an ice cube, and Jaskier has to blow on his hands from time to time just to function in the library. He’s the lucky one, in the grand scheme of things. The witchers still need to go outside to fix up the walls and tend to the animals.

Geralt hasn’t been back in a while.

Jaskier puts down the quill he’s been chewing anxiously and rushes out the door—

And bumps right into Geralt’s chest.

“Sweet Melitele, that’s a lot of snow!” Jaskier spits out the snow knocked into his mouth, before looking at Geralt properly. “Oh, you’re hurt.”

The cut on Geralt’s eyebrow is a small one, but Jaskier worries nonetheless. Geralt doesn’t look impressed, only walks straight towards the small medkit sitting on a shelf.

“Repairment has to wait. The wind is bad.” Geralt grunts, trying to touch the wound and missing by a mile.

“Here, let me.”

Jaskier takes the salve from Geralt’s slightly shaking hands and pulls out a handkerchief from his pocket. Geralt is frowning so hard he can crack a walnut with those eyebrows.

“Relax,” Jaskier murmurs, blowing gently at the cut while dabbing at the blood. Upon deeming it clean enough, he applies a scoop of the salve that smells of celandine and mint. “Don’t move. It’ll only hurt a bit.”

Geralt keeps shying away from Jaskier’s ministration so he has no choice but to wrap his other hand around Geralt’s jaw, which manages to still him instantly.

“There,” Jaskier smiles. “Shouldn’t need anything more. Your witcher healing will kick in soon.”

Geralt tilts his head with that soft look in his eyes. “My thanks. Wouldn’t have survived without you.”

“No shit! Who goes out in a storm like this one? If you ask me, Vesemir is too tough on you. Look at you…” Jaskier coos, taking Geralt’s hands. “You are like a popsicle, dear heart.”

He tries to rub some heat back into Geralt’s freezing hands, his skin dry and rough. There’s still some hand cream left in Jaskier’s room. Maybe he can fetch it later. Geralt needs to take care of his hands better when his living depends on them.

Geralt groans, looking away. The frames of his ears are beet red too; he must have been outside without a hat for all this time. Jaskier wants to cover them with his warm palms, only to have his hands batted away.

“No, there’s—I’m fine,” Geralt mumbles. If Jaskier didn’t know better, he’d think the way Geralt avoids his eyes is a result of shyness. The bard can snort at the ridiculous idea and stubbornly presses his hands over Geralt’s ears.

Oh.

His ears are red because they are so warm, not cold

Now that they are standing so close, only a hand’s breadth away, Geralt looks stunned, his eyes dilating, only leaving a ring of gold around those dark pupils. There’s even a layer of pink dusting over his pale cheeks.

A blushing witcher.

Oh, this is interesting.

“Geralt, sweetie?” Jaskier husks, lowering his voice especially on the pet name. “Are you warm enough?”

“Um, sure…not cold.”

And he watches as Geralt’s mind ceases to work in front of his eyes, the blush deepening. It’s still a subtle thing. No wonder Jaskier has missed it all this time. Calloused hands wrap around Jaskier’s wrists, and the bard finally relents, letting go.

If he spends the rest of the day sitting at the desk with a quill in hand, thinking about the way Geralt’s skin feels against his and the warmth of his cheeks, nobody needs to know.

 ~~

Jaskier doesn’t know what to do with this piece of new information.

Geralt does blush.

Because of him.

He tries to repeat the experiment. Just to be sure, he tells himself. And every time it yields the same results. As soon as he gets into Geralt’s space, the witcher either stumbles through his words or gets all flustered all over. The fondness is there too, just in a very Geralt and very unnoticeable manner, soft and almost smiling.

Jaskier is so drunk on power.

The only thing left is to tell Geralt that he loves him too. That he’s also in love in love with him, as in an I-also-want-to-kiss-you kind of way, and then… they can finally kiss!

Oh, just inwardly rehearsing the scene makes Jaskier dizzy, and somehow he ends up smiling to himself when he’s so deep in thoughts planning the conversation, once even in front of company.

Lambert throws him a side-eye and a disgusted grunt, but Jaskier can’t care less.

He finds the perfect night, and even takes a sip of White Gull from Eskel’s cup just to calm his nerves.

And he realizes too late that, perhaps, the strongest witcher brew might be a mistake.

The effect is stronger than he anticipated, and Jaskier is giggling through the fog in his mind within mimutes, somehow ending up on Geralt’s lap, draped over his shoulder in a heap of soft, pliant mess.

He rests his temple against Geralt’s and nearly tips backward if not for the strong arm that catches him by the waist.

“Oops, thank the gods I have my big witcher here!” Jaskier runs the tips of his fingers across Geralt’s stubbles. It tickles, and the blush is back, unmistakably, since Geralt is as sober as the day. “I’d fall over on my butt without you! And falling over doesn’t look good before saying important things, does it?”

Huh, he’s said it out loud.

“Saying what things?”

Well, if it’s out there…

“Where do I start again? Right of course, with how beautiful you look when you’re like this!”

His fingers move to tuck the curtain of white hair behind Geralt’s ears. No matter how much Jaskier loves it when Geralt wears his hair down, he needs to look into those amber eyes without obstruction. The molten gold gleams with surprise and Jaskier wants to drown in it.

“I’m not…” Geralt splutters, before closing his mouth with a pop. The flush is stretching down his neck now, and Jaskier chases it with a hand.

“You are!” he insists petulantly. “You are blushing and it’s beautiful. Adorable too! I wouldn’t know if Lambert hadn’t told me—” he burps. “—um, everything.”

“Told you what?”

The alarm in Geralt’s voice should wake Jaskier up immediately, but alas, the White Gull is no joke.

“Shh!” he stage-whispers, “It’s a secret! Don’t tell Geralt! I need to do it right!”

Jaskier lets out a happy sound and leans into the comforting embrace that he loves so much. Under his fingers, he can feel heat still gather under Geralt’s skin, making him look equally annoyed and fond.

“You are not making sense, Jask.”

“Nothing about you makes sense either, but I’m here. And ready.” Jaskier smiles and presses a chaste kiss on Geralt’s cheekbone, humming another happy sound.

Kissing Geralt is nice, gives Jaskier all the fuzzy feelings.

But somehow, that was also the wrong thing to do, because Geralt has gone stiff under Jaskier’s body. The next thing he knows, the witcher is struggling to untangle their limbs and leaving him empty and cold.

“Don’t…do this,” he murmurs, upset. “Just…don’t.”

The anguish the seeps through Geralt’s voice somehow manages to get through the muddy cloud in Jaskier’s mind.

“Wait, what?” Jaskier rights himself on unsteady feet, but his witcher is long gone. Eskel and Lambert are still nursing their tankards by the fire, and Jaskier wobbles past them without a care. He needs to find Geralt, who apparently charged right out of the great hall and into the cold night.

The heavy wooden doors open and Jaskier is hit with the unrelenting wind. The snow has stopped and partially melted, and frozen all over again. It’s the worst kind. Jaskier takes his steps with caution but still, it’s too slippery.

Okay. Mind. Clear. He needs it to be.

“Geralt?” he calls out, churning with anxiety. “Geralt, where are you?”

Damn his witcher speed. Now Jaskier is walking in the dark and freezing his balls off without an ounce of idea where Geralt might be. Oh, the stalls. Roach must be the first thought Geralt has when he needs to talk. Jaskier shudders, hugging his doublet tighter to fend off the wind and searches for the stalls blindly.

“Geralt, are you—ow!”

He walks right into a pillar and falls on his butt. Before Jaskier can register the pain, a pair of hands are picking him up by the armpits and he stumbles into Geralt’s embrace.

There’s a familiar sizzle of Igni, and the torch by the stalls is roaring with life.

“What are you doing out here?” A coat is tossed over Jaskier’s shoulders and he’s ushered back towards the building.

“Looking for you, you idiot!” Jaskier squawks, albeit grateful for the thick fur coat. A few more minutes he would lose all feelings in his toes. “Running into the night like this, who knows what can happen to you!”

“So you followed me out drunk and with no coat and I’m the idiot? Gods, I don’t know why I even…”

The doors creak open and there’s light and warmth and the smell of mead, but Jaskier’s heart sinks.

“I don’t know why you even bother too,” Jaskier muses, suddenly feeling like a scolded child.

Geralt steers Jaskier past the other wolf witchers and straight into his room, where the heat feels like a furnace on Jaskier’s frozen fingers—Geralt has been secretly tending to Jaskier’s fire for weeks after the human came down with a cold upon arrival at the keep. He’s too good to Jaskier.

“You are too good to me.”

“And you are a pain in the ass.”

Geralt sits Jaskier down in front of the fire rather grumpily, before joining him and pulling the coat even tighter. He’s still mad, just a smidge, but the droop of his eyes speaks more of sadness.

“Hey, talk to me,” Jaskier coaxes, squeezing Geralt’s knee in reassurance. Whatever argument coming their way, he can’t stand Geralt being sad.

“How drunk are you?”

“Not very.” If Geralt walking out hadn’t put Jaskier out of his daze, the wind sure finished the job. “White gull passes quickly. Hmm, who would have thought…”

“I need to tell you something.”

“But I need to tell you something too! It’s important.”

“Let me go first?”

The plead comes out in a whisper, and who is Jaskier to reject Geralt like this, wide-eyed and earnest?

“I never meant for you to know, and certainly not on a night like this, but Jaskier…” Geralt heaves out a breath, determined and so so brave. Jaskier is drawn closer to Geralt’s body like a magnet, ready to soothe, to meet him halfway. “I am in love with you.”

“Geralt.”

“I know you don’t feel the same, and it’s okay. You make a living singing about loving. Hell, you make a living simply by loving. Music, adventures, people, so many people. It’s okay that your heart is too big for me. But, Jask, I can’t take it anymore.”

“I don’t…not…”

“You flirt with people. You…touch them and kiss them and praise them. It’s okay. It’s the way you are. I understand that when you do the same with me it doesn’t mean anything more, but, Jaskier, I need you to stop.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes. “Do you hate it? I thought…differently.”

The smile that tugs at Geralt’s lips can only be described as crestfallen.

“The opposite. I love it too much. I’ll always want more. Always. I’m greedy like this.”

The guilt weighing down on Geralt’s shoulders is not a good sight, a personal offense to Jaskier. His hand reaches out on its own volition, tilting Geralt’s chin up so their gazes meet. The blush is back.

What did Jaskier do in his past life to deserve this man?

“That’s what I was going to say.”

“That you are greedy?”

The frown remains on Geralt’s face, and Jaskier smooths it with the pad of his thumb.

“No. That I am in love with you. Gods, for someone who’s not a bard, you sure know how to steal someone’s line from the beginning,” Jaskier chuckles. “I’ve been trying to tell you that I return your feelings. But alas, you know the coward that I am.”

“You are…not,” he protests, blinking.

The way Geralt defends him on instinct only makes Jaskier’s insides melt into a pool of fuzziness.

“In this, yes. How I fucked up so bad is a mystery. That’s just me I guess, trying to love you but ending up hurting you, making you feel like I’m stringing you along like anyone else.”

“I’m not?”

“No, you oaf.” Jaskier bops his nose. “You are the most important person in the world for me. This is the most important thing in the world to me! I love you and I love it when you blush. Also, I’d very much like to kiss you, if you want it too.”

Jaskier bites into his lips and watches as Geralt’s gaze drops to them, the pink of his cheeks spreading into the most gorgeous crimson. “I want to. Kiss you, that is.”

“Good.”

Jaskier wets his lips with a peak of the tongue and watches the same gesture returned. Even if the alcohol has left his system, the intoxication remains, only this time because of Geralt’s slightly dilated pupils and quickened breathing. He leans in, not being able to resist—

“Did you say ‘return my feelings’?” Geralt dodges away, looking incredulous. “Jaskier, did you know? And what was that about blushing?”

“Um…” Now Jaskier is the one to splutter. Luckily, he has a trick up his sleeves or two that can make sure Geralt forgets about every last thought there is.

Jaskier lunges forward and tackles his witcher onto the soft rug and kisses him within an inch of his life, deepening it like there’s no tomorrow. Judging by the dazed look on Geralt’s face as he comes up for air, the method is working.

Cupping Geralt’s rosy cheeks, Jaskier croaks proudly, “Tell you later?”

“We have all the later we need.” Geralt’s smile is blinding, and equally mischievous. Without a moment of pause, Jaskier ends up the one flipped onto his back and being kissed until he shudders with pleasure.

Jaskier has to thank Lambert properly one day, considering Geralt will certainly go after him with a vengeance.

For now, having Geralt on top of him and slowly melting into a contented mess should be enough. If he’s allowed, Jaskier vows silently, he would really like to make Geralt blush for him for the rest of his life.

~~

Jaskier will totally make it his life's mission to tease Geralt endlessly and see his beautiful blush. 🥰🥰

On another note, I challenged myself to write 2000 words exactly, and this ended up, um, 3000 words exactly. I’ll count it as a win anyway ;)

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

[witchersgoldenbard]

Snow Angels and Battles

it was my dear friend @jaskie's birthday yesterday and i meant to have this done way sooner but alas, i just am Like That. so anyway, happy un-birthday to you my sweet, i hope you enjoy some un-betaed yennskier shenanigans i wrote in 2.5h on discord 💛

wc: 3k | tags: yennskier birthday fluff, modern au, found family, snowball fights

"Yen!"

Truly, Yennefer has seen Jaskier in many states of glee and euphoria before, because that man is the equivalent of an easily excitable golden retriever puppy. And how that man with the brightest eyes and the brightest smile and the brightest gods-damned mind came to fall in love with her, she doesn't know, but now that he did, she's not letting him go again. Especially not when he looks at her like that before spinning around and looking back out the window to watch giant snowflakes falling from the sky and painting the world in glittering white.

Yennefer doesn't even try to hide her smile even though he can't see it.

"Yen! Yen, it's snowing! Snow! On my birthday!"

He spins back around and grins at her, looking like a six-year-old on Christmas Day, not like a 27-year-old who keeps lamenting that getting old sucks. She grins back and already knows that her plans for the day are for naught now that it snows, because Jaskier will want to head out and—

"I wanna lie in it!" he declares, and Yennefer laughs. Of course he fucking does. That silly, silly, wonderful man with his beautiful eyes and his smile that fills her heart so endlessly.

"You're gonna catch a cold," she says, though it holds no power with the way she can't stop smiling at this infuriatingly cute man.

He inclines his head and thinks for a moment. Then he shrugs. "Worth it."

She snorts and walks over to where he is already shaking a bit by the window, though whether that is because he is still only wearing his ridiculous pyjamas or from excitement, she doesn't know. Possibly both.

He is drawn to her like a moth to the flame and his cold hands immediately reach for hers when she is close enough, like he always does, and Yennefer leans up on her tiptoes to brush a kiss to his nose.

"At least get dressed first, silly."

And with that she turns around and heads out of their bedroom, laughing when all he says is, "Only because you asked so nicely."

Infuriating man. Gods, how she loves him. She can hear him rummage about the room, bumping into the bed a few times and she pictures him trying to watch the snow, get dressed, and reply to his thousands of Happy Birthday! messages at once. It makes her smile as she sets about making coffee and tea – coffee for now, tea for later when they will be frozen down to their bones and in desperate need of something warm.

Coffee brewing and kettle boiling, she grabs her phone and finds a message from Geralt.

Gayralt: "birthday boy excited over the snow? :D"

yen: "you bet. it's adorable"

Then, a thought strikes her and she follows up with another message.

yen: "actually, i think i'm cancelling plans to enjoy as much snow as possible. wanna join? i am sensing a snow ball fight and we need an army against the ball of energy that is birthday jask"

Geralt's reply is immediate and leaves her with a chuckle.

Gayralt: "I'll let the boys know. And Ciri. He doesn't stand a chance!"

"And what's got you smiling so bright, huh?" Jaskier says as he bounds into the kitchen, still excited but not vibrating with it anymore. So, of course, the first thing he does is pour himself a cup of coffee with a splash of vanilla syrup because that man can never have too much caffeine or sugar.

"Am I not allowed to smile now?"

"No," Jaskier says, downing half the cup of way too hot coffee without a care in the world. "It's my birthday, I have singular smiling rights and nobody else."

She nods sagely and does her best to look contrite. "Understood, I apologise, Your Silliness. Wait, what about all the other birthday people?"

"Hmm," he says and leans against the counter beside her, impossibly warm in his entire presence so it's no wonder she begins to lean into him. "I'll allow it."

"You're so gracious," she sighs and there's a beat of silence before they both break out into chuckles. Jaskier wraps his arms around her and brushes a kiss to her forehead and another to her temple before he takes another sip of his coffee. It's quiet and warm and a moment only for them before Jaskier will remember why he was so excited only a minute ago.

"Happy birthday," she murmurs against him and closes her eyes briefly to breathe him in and exist in the moment. A smile on her lips that hasn't left since she woke up. A smile that hasn't really left since she first kissed Jaskier.

"Thank you, my love," he murmurs back and holds her closer. It makes her heart jump that he'll miss out on the snow only to hold her just a second longer.

Gods, but how she really, really loves him.

"Hey Yen?" he breaks the silence eventually.

"Hmm?"

"Hey, don't Geralt me, you ass," he laughs, and she pokes him into the side.

"What, then, you ass yourself?"

He chuckles and skips away from another vicious poke, dancing around the kitchen island with his cup of coffee still half full in one hand.

"Well, I was gonna ask you if we can go outside, but now I'm actually telling you that your face will have to kiss some snow when you're being mean to the birthday boy."

"Oh, will it now?" she challenges, raising her eyebrow in a way that has made many a man cave on the spot. But not Jaskier. All he does is raise his chin with a promising little smile on his lips.

"Oh, it absolutely will."

"Try me, birthday boy," is all she says.

And, boy, does he try.

The very second they step outside is once of peace and excitement where Jaskier just stands on their front step and looks around himself, marvelling at the world that got covered in a thick layer of white in mere minutes. The snow is still falling, catching in his hair, and with his blue eyes and rosy cheeks, this is the most beautiful version of him she has ever seen.

But then he moves in record speed, whirling around to gather a heap of snow from the ground before he hurls it at her. Luckily, he is nothing but predictable, so Yennefer is able to stop the motion of his hands halfway, which only results in them both being covered in white powdery snow that only falls from them because they are both laughing so hard.

"You absolute asshole, I knew it!" she calls and hurries to get away from him, but he is too busy laughing to catch up.

"I love how you made it worse," he wheezes and lets himself fall backward onto their lawn, sinking into the snow with a giggle.

She watches him as she catches her breath, waves of chuckles still running through her. Jaskier isn't faring better, lying there and staring up at the grey clouds before he has to close his eyes against the thick snowflakes.

He begins to flail his limbs and it takes her a moment to realise what he is doing, and it makes her want to laugh all over again.

"How does my snow angel look?" he asks once he has stopped moving, and Yennefer steps closer to inspect it.

She puts on a serious, judging face. "Hmm, I don't know. But mine looks pretty cute."

Jask blinks up at her and it takes him a moment or two before he understands – and if it were at all possible, Yennefer would swear his cheeks just became a slightly deeper shade of red.

They stay outside until midday before the need for something warm calls them inside, and Yen would love to travel back in time to pat herself on the back for making tea and putting it on a stove to keep it warm but not scalding hot.

"Oh, you are the best," Jaskier moans with his hands wrapped around a mug and his nose buried in the steam. "I am so smart for being in love with you, there is no better person on this planet than my wonderful Yennefer, and we should all sing your praises!"

She eyes him. "For making tea?"

"For making tea," he nods and downs the whole cup in one go.

It is not long until the doorbell rings and Yennefer goes to open it, brushing a kiss to Jaskier's forehead when she passes him where he has buried himself into the couch, his hands still wrapped around a warm mug. The door opens to reveal Geralt, Lambert, Eskel and Ciri all bundled up in hats and scarves that must have been at Ciri's insistence. She is a stubborn seven-year-old, and if anyone could talk Lambert into wearing a thick scarf, it would be her.

"I hear there's a birthday boy here who needs to get his ass k—"

"Lambert!" Geralt interrupts his brother, and he looks like he wants to say more when Ciri interrupts him with an excited voice.

"Yeah, let's kick the birthday boy's ace!"

Close, Yennefer thinks with a suppressed grin, and Geralt sighs while Eskel subtly smacks the back of Lambert's head.

"Hi, auntie Yen," Ciri calls and bounds into the house like she always does.

"Ciri, your shoes!" Geralt calls at the very last minute, and with an ever-suffering sigh the girl stops and bends down to get rid of her thick boots.

Yen turns back to the men and grins, holding the door open for them to come out of the cold and into the warmth. "Birthday boy is still warming up because he made one too many snow angels against my advice. Give him half an hour and then the battle shall commence."

Jaskier lights up once more when they enter the living room, and he immediately finds himself with a giggling armful of Ciri. "Hello, light of my life, darling daughter of my best friend, princess among pirates," he says, and she only giggles some more, wriggling and writhing in his lap as though she's trying to climb him and escape him at the same time. Like kids do.

"Nooo, not pirates!" she says, like it’s the most ridiculous thing to suggest.

"Not pirates? Pray tell, my dear, are you still a princess?"

She stops then and frowns at him, looking at him very seriously when she says, "Of course, uncle Jaskier."

He laughs. "Good, I thought I had to reorder the rules of the universe."

"No, the wools or the universe are fine where they are," Ciri says, and Yennefer leans against the doorframe to watch them with a fond smile.

"And what are your father and uncles, then, if not pirates?"

"We're wolves now," Geralt says with a grin, leaning down and ruffling through Jaskier's hair before pressing a kiss to Ciri's. Jaskier smiles up at him fondly, his blue eyes so big and happy.

"Wolves!" he gasps and Ciri giggles again.

"Big, bad, dangerous wolves! But not to me. I am the princess after all, and wolves don't hurt princessessess."

Jaskier nods very seriously. "That is very true, my dear."

While Jaskier is having these very serious talks with Ciri, Yennefer follows Eskel into the kitchen and is delighted to find that he brought cake and self-made mulled wine for later. Bless this man for having their collective brain cell and enough patience to wield it.

Together, they bring the cake into the living room along with coffee and more tea, and they all enjoy it in relative silence.

The battle follows immediately after, and it's Jask, Yen and Ciri against the wolves, with Ciri's reasoning that the wolves can't hurt the princess. Each party has five minutes to build a wall and prepare for battle with all means necessary, and Yen watches as Jask and Ciri giggle their way through building a wall, and it takes three attempts of the girl throwing snow at Jaskier before she remembers that they are in the same team.

And then, snow still falling and Jaskier vibrating beside her, in a state of constant chuckles bubbling out of him, Yen leans up for one last kiss before Lambert opens fire with a vicious battle cry.

It's brutal. It's loud. It's chaotic. It's fun. All Yen can hear are shouts and cries and calls for revenge, all immediately followed with laughter and promises to kiss more snow.

"You're all talk, Lambert," Jaskier calls over to him, just seconds before a snowball barely misses his face and thunks into the wall behind him. He sticks out his tongue like the adult he is before firing back, hitting Geralt straight in the chest who falls over with an exaggerated. "Oof!"

"Daddy!" Ciri giggles and runs over to him before Jaskier can catch her, only stopping once she stands right above Geralt with a grin. She raises her arms and drops the snowball she's been holding right onto his face before Eskel comes and sweeps her off her feet, holding her up in front of him like a shield. A whooping, squealing, giggling shield.

He comes closer and Yen shares one glance with Jaskier before they both duck behind the wall, heaping up snow in a last desperate attempt at defence.

"Surrender, you fools! I have a Ciri and I am not afraid to use her!" Eskel calls.

"Yeah, you fools!" Ciri giggles.

"Ciri, you're supposed to be on our side!" Jaskier calls then.

"Uncle Esky is cheating, Jaskier!" she calls back, her voice as urgent as his, and it's adorable. "But it's fun so it's okay!"

"Sound logic," Yen murmurs and earns a grin from Jaskier.

In the end, Jaskier runs out from behind their wall to attack Eskel from one side while Yen runs to the other, but their attempt is in vain. Jaskier can't get a clear shot without hitting Ciri, and before he can get over that moral dilemma, Eskel has already covered his face with snow before whirling around, Ciri nothing but a dangling, giggling lightweight. Yennefer knows a lost battle when she sees it, but that doesn't stop her from throwing that ball, knowing it'll miss Eskel just seconds before he heaves his handful of snow right onto her shoulders with a triumphant cry. He whirls Ciri around with a laugh before putting her on her feet once more.

"Hey, uncle Esky," Ciri calls when Eskel has turned his back to her to get cheered on by his brothers.

He whirls around and horror dawns on his face when Ciri, that vicious little princess who has learned so much from auntie Yen, throws a heap of snow at him. It doesn't nearly reach his chest, nor does it count as a proper snowball, but Eskel dramatically tips over and lands on his ass in this snow.

"Oh no! The princess turns on me!"

Ciri runs over, nearly tripping on her own feet, until she stands above Eskel the same way she did with Geralt. And she bends down to grab another heap of snow before unceremoniously dropping that right on Eskel's head with nothing but a laugh.

And that is how a seven-year-old beat them all in a vicious snowball battle. Yennefer has never in her life been prouder of anyone. She and Jaskier carry Ciri on their shoulders around the backyard, parading her in front of Geralt, Eskel and Lambert before sharing just once look and dropping her on a pile of snow.

It's not long before they're all helplessly drenched in melting snow and laughing through the fact that they can't feel their hands or feet anymore. The sun is already setting where it is still hidden by thick grey clouds that keep showering the Earth with snow, and it's getting dark rather quickly.

Jaskier herds them all inside to warm up with tea and dry clothes and all the blankets their house has to offer. Which, to the surprise of nobody, is a lot. And all of them fuzzy and comfy. Ciri wears hers like a cape, sniffling into her tea where she is cuddling into Geralt's side. They're sweet, these two.

Yennefer is about to say something when Jaskier approaches her from behind, wrapping his blanket-covered arms around her and rudely burying his ice-cold nose into her neck. It makes her flinch and want to move away, but his hold on her is too strong and the way he hums and chuckles against her makes her too weak to escape anyway.

"Hi," she murmurs then as she leans back into him.

"Hi," he whispers and presses a kiss to her cheek. "I love you."

Now it's her turn to hum and close her eyes. "I love you, too."

"Thank you for this."

"Of course."

"I know you had plans," he continues, and she detects a hint of apology in his voice that she wants to tramp down immediately.

"I did, yeah. But the main plan was to make you happy, and I can be flexible when it comes to that. Today was about you anyway. And I know how excited you get when it snows. You've not had a snowy birthday since... well, since I know you."

"Yeah," Jaskier says and lets out a small sigh. "I loved this so, so much. But still. Thank you."

She spins around in his arms at his sincere tone, and she needs him to know that she means it when she says, "Anytime." And that's a promise.

A promise sealed with a smile and a kiss, and another smile after that.

"I'm very lucky to have you," he whispers, his cold nose rubbing against hers.

"And I am lucky to have you," she says, and it sounds almost lame. But it makes him smile all the same before he leans in for another kiss.

"Eeeew! Uncle Jask and auntie Yen, that is so ew!" Ciri complains with a laugh, but it's enough to remind them they still have guests. They break apart with one last, fleeting kiss, before Jaskier runs and tackles Ciri into the couch with a roar.

Yennefer stands there and watches, her feet still frozen but her knees weak with how in love she is with this silly, happy, wonderful man.