#kaer morhen shenanigans

[witcher-inspiration]

Jaskier: I am the descendent of an elven bard!

Vesemir: Ah yes that would explain the lack of aging and the musical inclination.

Jaskier: And she was in love with a witcher!

Vesemir: And that would explain the other thing.

[0dde11eth]

Geralt walking towards the great hall, through the doorway he sees jaskier flying through the air

His heart stops and then speeds up to near human speed

Then he sees jaskier running back from the direction he flew

Then flying through the air again

Lambert and eskel are enjoying throwing him into a pile of cushions and jaskier keeps running back for more

[alons-ycreeper]

Look I don't write for this pairing I pure read fanfic of it and that's it but this one idea keeps festering in my head so here:

Post-mountain, already at Kaer Morhen but like no Deathless Mother shenanigans. Geralt gets shit faced with his brothers as per the winter usual only this time with the added bonus of all his angst physically following him home. Especially the Jaskier-angst. The bard hasn't spoken much to Geralt instead spending all his time with Yennefer in the lab, continuing Ciri's noble education, or helping Vesemir finally organize the library. Basically Jaskier makes zero time for Geralt except for meal times which always have the bard either sitting with Yenn, Ciri, or Vesemir but never near Geralt.

So when Geralt goes to drink with Lambert, Eskel (both game-canon) and Coën he finds out that Jaskier has been slowly approaching his brothers little by little trying to befriend them. It drives the angst and jealousy through the roof and it's not even midnight before Geralt is flat on his ass murmuring "Toss A Coin" in the softest, saddest tone ever particularly on the "your witcher" part. The boys tell their brother to get some rest and the big sad wolf trudges up the step until he stops in front of Jaskier's room. He can hear the bard sleeping, he just wants to check on him so Geralt opens the door and lets himself in.

The bard is a pretty as ever. Quarter-elf blood goes a long way to keep it like that. Then Geralt notices the quill on the desk still dripping with ink. Jaskier is dead asleep.

Quill. Jaskier. Quill. Jaskier. Geralt has an idea.

Jumping out of bed the next morning, Jaskier rushes down to get whatever breakfast is left over. He doesn't notice the others gawking at first too busy feeding himself and telling Ciri that the lessons with him will be combined with Yennefer's today as they'll be discussing court mages. It isn't until he's done that he notices them. Eskel, Lambert and Coën have this horrified-amused look, Vesemir looks very tired, Ciri is blushing so hard her face is as red as tomato and Yenn is glaring daggers at Geralt who seems to be very pleased with himself.

"Something on my face?" Jaskier asks.

"Go look in a mirror, bard." Yenn says not turning away from Geralt who she keeps murdering with her eyes.

So he does. Jaskier goes to the closest mirror and gasps at what he finds.

There written on his left cheek "Property of Geralt of Rivia". Kaer Morhen is about to be down a witcher.

[inexplicifics]

Hi! This is my first time sending you an ask bc I'm so shy, but I'm a huge fan of all your work! And it's so amazing to see a new AWAU part! Thank you so much for writing and sharing this incredible piece of art with us!

What I wanted to ask is, since you've introduced our boy Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach with his full name and everything (like he himself did, every other scene even though everyone had heard that introduction about 10 times already), are you basing Cahir's characterization more on his book counterpart or on the Netflix series?

And if you base him on the books, could that mean that perhaps in the future we might see more of Geralt's Hansa? Like Milva and Regis and Angouleme? (Angouleme and Ciri would be instant besties) Geralt with his Hansa in the AWAU would be so fun to see! And I think the Baptism Of Fire fish soup scene with AWAU Geralt would be so wholesome and also immensely funny XD

Regardless of your plans for the future though, I am absolutely frothing at the mouth to get the chance to read more of your work as always! Thank you so much for continuing to feed us so well over multiple years!

I must admit that as with many things, I am basing my characterizations on fandom osmosis, as I have still never read, watched, or played any of the canons.

That said, I would love to get Regis into Kaer Morhen - the shenanigans would be amazing - and if I can arrange for the Progress to happen across Angouleme, after I've done some research, I may well do so!

I'm so glad you like my fic!

[limerental]

ficletvember 2024 - day 9

ciri & ves & roche beach holiday shenanigans (theoretically takes place within the timeline of my ciri/everyone fic but is standalone)

After the Battle of Kaer Morhen, Ciri whisks the Temerians off for a much-deserved beach holiday.

The first world Ciri whisked them off to was meant to ease her sheltered companions into the realities of time-space travel. The trouble was that almost anywhere was out of the scope of comprehension for two low-born humans who'd rarely left their backwater kingdom on a Continent yet to fight its way out of the dark ages.

She soon realized she'd underestimated what they would need warning for.

A beach vacation would fix them, Ciri thought. Warm sand and the rhythmic crash of the waves. Overly sweet alcoholic drinks bought from boardwalk bars and indulgent foods like potato wedges drowning in melted cheese or corn dogs or ice cream.

“All these women are utterly naked,” said Ves, her face burning red. It was a delightfully amusing reaction from a girl with a neckline that plunged as low as hers. 

Beside her, Roche was steadfastly squinting into the distance rather than look at the sun-bathing tourists around them. Or perhaps he needed sunglasses. The quality of the light in his precious Temeria tended towards dreary and dull.

“Only nearly naked,” said Ciri, taking on her best instructive voice, as though she were their well-informed time-space tour guide. “This is what's called tanning. No, no, not like the leather, though in time, it can certainly give one's skin a leathery appearance. Well and any of these women may someday be afflicted by a terrible disease caused this very afternoon. You see, this planet's sun has evil magic beams that–”

“On this world do they not grow hair ‘tween their legs? Or anywhere?” Ves asked loudly. “That fabric covers fuck all.”

Roche dropped his face into his hands, and laughing, Ciri swiftly whisked them off to dress more appropriately for the locale.

Ves took easily to scantily clad beachwear, choosing to wear board shorts and a pale blue string bikini top. Ciri liked her cheeky smile as she examined herself in the dressing room mirror. She liked Ves and owed her something for risking her life to save her from the Wild Hunt. Ciri liked the thought of providing her a small moment of contentment, something easy and pleasant. 

Unfortunately, she also owed Vernon Roche. Ciri had brought him along on their adventure only because Ves had vouched for him and because she was curious whether it was possible for him to lose his pinched frown.

So far, no luck. He seemed more than a little shell-shocked by the size and scale of the superstore they'd entered, but the deeply-furrowed frown remained. When Ciri and Ves finished in the dressing room, they found him wandering in an aisle full of wall to wall packaged bread. Perplexed shoppers eyed the strangely-dressed man in his silly hat and heavy wool armor as he mumbled to himself in a foreign language and stroked the crinkling, colorful plastic of pre-sliced loaves.

Perhaps Ciri should have introduced mass market capitalism a bit more slowly. She could have popped into a nice seaside boutique rather than the local Wal-Mart.

She and Ves corralled the dazed man back to the dressing rooms, where they plied him with a mound of clothing and shoved him into a stall.

He emerged sometime later wearing far too many layers and hideous clogs. Ves laughed until she wheezed, and Ciri snatched his rumpled chaperon from his head and replaced it with a wide-brimmed beach hat and dark sunglasses. 

“Don’t worry, you'll get all your kit back when I've dumped you back home again,” said Ciri, stuffing their clothing and gear into a small bag strapped at her waist. “It’s bigger on the inside, of course.”

Ciri imagined that the poor loss protection security guards watching the shop's cameras got quite a shock when three shoplifters in swimsuits disappeared in a flicker of light. She flipped off one of the cameras for good measure.

Most of the Continent’s beaches that she’d been to were a stinking slog of muck on the borders of swampy dunes, no comparison to the glittering sand and pale blue water that stretched out before them. The foaming surf felt as warm as a bath as it wet their ankles, and it was all perfectly quaint and fairly boring.

“You mentioned drinks?” Ves asked, and Ciri found them the gaudiest beachside bar around, Jimmy Buffet blaring over the sound system, and plopped them down on sun-warmed loungers with lurid colored drinks sipped from curly straws.

Within the hour, Ves had won several arm-wrestling matches with burly, tattooed locals, and Ciri looked on fondly at the girl surrounded by a crowd of admirers, her mouth stained with blue dye, her cheeks and shoulders flushed hot red from the afternoon sun and the drink.

Even Roche looked a little at ease. Or perhaps was just queasy with the sugary alcohol. He'd taken a liking to frozen margaritas, cradling a brimming glass of slush as he watched tropical fish cruise along in the barside aquarium as if they were the most confounding things he'd ever seen.

One of the men Ves soundly defeated turned out to run a tattoo shop down the boardwalk, and she lit up at the offer of ill-advised free ink.

The sunset burned over the water, and the tequila warmed their blood. 

They coaxed a swaying Roche into the chair first, adding a little fish swimming amidst the wobbly lines of the mismatched tattooed mess of his left arm. Ciri and Ves opted for the same, fins rippling as they flexed their biceps, cackling.

“My first,” said Ves, pointing to a bulbous penis and balls on her upper shoulder. “Worst is, I was dead sober. I think was either Silas or Thirteen who did it. You remember Roche?”

“Nah,” said Roche, a distance in his voice. “Been too damn long.”

Ciri thought of the rose at her inner thigh, and wanted– well, she wanted more to drink. Or at the very least to run and keep running.

The three of them sat together on the edge of the pier, legs dangling, arms folded on the weathered railing. The last glow of evening faded out over the ocean. 

The night was warm, the ocean waves swelled across the sand below, and it was all insufferably idyllic.

“How about somewhere less dull next,” said Ciri. 

“This isn't dull,” Ves protested. “It’s just… well.”

“It's dull,” said Roche. He stared out at the vanishing horizon line with an inscrutable expression.

Deeming herself sufficiently sober, Ciri dragged them to a world more vibrant and loud, engines roaring along a neon megahighway. She knew a mechanic in this one who could help her indulge in the sort of adrenaline she needed.

“What on earth is that?” Ves asked, and Ciri leaned over the handlebars and revved the thing, grinning. She held out a helmet, lowering the dark face shield on her own.

“Hop on! You'll love it. It's better than the fastest horse you've ever ridden. And this planet doesn't have traffic rules. So we could certainly die in a fiery crash at any moment if we’re not careful.”

“Neat,” said Ves and slung herself behind Ciri, holding on tight.

“I hate horses,” grumbled Roche. “Am I meant to fit on the back of that as well?”

“Of course not,” she said. Ciri was suddenly having a very very good time. She had a handsome girl holding her tight, anywhere in the world to run to, and she was finding that she found pestering a long-suffering Roche deeply gratifying. He deserved it a little. The vacation and the pestering. 

She gestured beside the bike, waggling her fingers.

“Sidecar.”

[catscraftsandcommentary]

I feel like someone should introduce the concept of team building exercises (gods help them) to the witchers - especially in the form of a challenge course. A bard and a medical professor (particularly one who can keep up with JASKIER) are close enough to a camp counselor to be good candidates for that job, right?

(Many, MANY moons ago, I was in fact a summer camp counselor myself. And worked at the challenge course/climbing tower. It was a hell of a lot of fun, I definitely recommend it.)

((But do not ask about homesick kids. Or bug bites. Or MOTHERFUCKING DEHYDRATION, GODDAMN IT, DRINK YOUR *FUCKING* WATER, CHILDREN))

Anyway. The challenge course had lots of little "challenges" that were designed to make groups work together - either you couldn't complete them by yourself, or it would be pointless. Or it would just be a lot more FUN with a group of people, all laughing and arguing and almost-not-quite falling over.

Things like the birthday log - a low balance beam where kids lined up on the "log" (several inches wide, fairly easy to balance on - this was a KIDS camp), and then the counselor told them to rearrange themselves by some arbitrary metric: birthday. Height. Favorite color (alphebetized). Length of hair. Etc. And most importantly: YOU CANNOT TOUCH THE GROUND.

Then everybody has to figure out how to step over/around each other without knocking someone off, because as soon as someone touches the ground, everyone goes back to their starting spots. For extra difficulty, make experienced kids and/or natural leaders suddenly mute/stricken with laryngitis. (And review any relevant safety rules, like no cartwheeling over your buddies, CATS.)

I just imagine trying to find some way to line witchers up. Birthday? They don't know theirs. Age? Half of them don't keep track anymore. Favorite color? People pick those?

Shani just sighs heavily and glares at them. "What DO you idiots have an opinion on, then?"

"Favorite type of knife."

"Best type of alcohol."

"Best flavor of White Gull!" (This gets a cheer.)

"Most dangerous monster."

"Most BORING monster."

"How you got your best scar - "

" - where you got your first scar?"

"D'ye mean city or body part?" General snickering.

After the Cats demolish the balance beam a few times, someone strings a heavy wire over a large mud pit and chivvys the entire Cat school onto it.

(Jaskier gets his composing face on.)

(Lambert and Yennifer start taking bets on who hits the mud first. They agree that it'll definitely be through a combination of distraction and sibling sabotage.)

Eskel, much to his dismay, has been nominated to choose the line-up topics. There are, of course, plenty of suggestions - many of them filthy.

"Ciri is RIGHT HERE," he grumbles.

- and holding popcorn, courtesy of her Aunt Yennifer. She's watching with Livi and Sasha, both of whose lovers are distracted by showing off and are therefore sucker bets for getting muddy.

Petition for Priscilla and Shani to go to Kaer Morhen and become Ciri's new Vodka Aunts/terrible influences

If you're thinking "wait, Yennifer already fills that role!" then let me assure you: she can have more than one! Also, Yen is the vodka aunt on Geralt's side; Ciri clearly needs one on Jaskier's side too!

Also I'm nominating Lambert (and Aiden) as the whiskey White Gull uncle on Eskel's side, just for funsies.

Besides, just imagine them showing up and being like "you have a KID?!? Since when do you have a kid? Who trusted you with a kid? No no no, absolutely not, come here darling, CLEARLY you need a proper influence..."

And then they brainstorm a dozen new goose tricks.

[artistsfuneral]

Hello I would like a ficlet please <3

Maybe, conversation whilst running away from something? (Silly or serious, your choice)

Oh that's such a fun prompt! ❤ Okay this is based on my headcanon that in a school full of (pre)pubescent boys, you'd come across a lot of drawn/carved dicks.

young Geralt & Eskel, shenanigans

Eskel was walking through one of Kaer Morhens many hallways, when he suddenly heard a loud, enraged scream that had his head snap up instantly. A hush fell around the group of trainees and Eskel caught the worried eyes of Sören, who seemed to be thinking exactly the same thing. If one of the instructors was that angry, you'd better not be caught.

Splitting up to both sides of the hallway, the young wolves attempted to become one with the keep's heavy masonry. Mere seconds later it became obvious to everyone what had happened, when a familiar white shock of hair ran towards them at full speed.

Eskel had barely enough time to react, when Geralt yelled "Catch!" at him, before sprinting further down the hall and around the next corner. For a moment the boy fumbled terribly with the wet piece of charcoal that was thrown at him. He almost wasn't quick enough to hide it inside his pockets when their red-faced, fuming History Instructor ran past them. A crude drawing, of a lopsided dick on his forehead.

[anyanpre]

Geraskier ideas #2, pain edition:

What if instead of wishing for "peace and quiet", Geralt fucks it up with the djinn even more and goes "I wish we've never met" on Jaskier and accidentally retcons Jaskier out of his life.

And he either wastes his other two wishes before realizing what really happened, or doesn't have the wishes anymore due to timey-wimey shenanigans.

So Geralt is stuck, miserable and alone and without Jaskier.

He does think about finding Jaskier, but decides against it -- without him Jaskier is safe and happy and Geralt never deserved him anyway.

He can't stay in taverns when there's a bard, because it hurts too much. He barely cares about his wounds, because no one yells at him for getting too reckless. He's alone, as he should be.

He's fine, except he isn't.

And then the winter comes. And when Geralt gets to Kaer Morhen, Jaskier is there, with one of Geralt's brothers. Because of fucking course he is.

And, worst if all, Jaskier perfectly happy.

Geralt always knew that out of all of the wolves he was the worst one for Jaskier to get stuck with. He's an asshole and not the fun kind like Lambert. He isn't as nice and kind and fucking perfect like Eskel. And there is a proof of this right in front of him.

Jaskier is better off without him.

And it hurts.

He's a stranger to Jaskier, and it hurts so fucking much when Jaskier is right there.

And Geralt knows he can't undo his stupid wish, because he can't destroy this, even if he had the means to.

Everybody got what they deserved and Geralt truly believes in that moment that he deserves to be alone, that he never deserved Jaskier in the first place. That this is right, even if it hurts.

[joestarlight]

Cat Witcher!Jaskier Shenanigans - The Cat Army

In this universe, after the mountain, Jaskier was kidnapped by a mage, experimented on until he became a Witcher, and left for dead when he was thought to be useless. He was reunited with Geralt who realized he was in love, and shenanigans ensued. So when last we left these two, they were having a happily ever after in a cottage on the coast as Ciri's Two Dads. All was going well! UNTIL!!!! The original mage who experimented on Jaskier has been hard at work creating the perfect assassin for hire wanted him back. He sent a dozen cat Witcher creations to drag him from the cottage to his new, improved lab. Needless to say, Geralt and Jaskier fought hard, but ultimately, Jaskier was torn away. Geralt was not going to give up. He brought Ciri to Kaer Morhen and over the course of the next few months, Aiden, Yennefer, and the remaining Wolves helped hunt down and plot a raid to get Jaskier back. The crew found themselves at Stygga Castle, and were able to break in, passing many other failed and current experiments on their way. They fished Jaskier out of a cell, looking thin, dirty, and beaten down...

The problem is, all he remembers is his new purpose of becoming a perfect cat Witcher assassin. He tries to attack Geralt immediately, and had to be restrained to get him out. Even once at Kaer Morhen, his memory does not return, and he only wants to get back to his training/reprograming. He is repulsed by Geralt's affections, though he starts to wonder if he can use them to his advantage...

I have written Geralt in a lot of different places, but this is legitimately the lowest, and being in that headspace can be challenging. It's worth it though! I'm loving this story and there is more drama to come! As always thank you to @cowboybuttconnoisseur who came up with this angst fest!

[bambirex]

Keep My Heart In Your Gold

Pairing: Geraskier

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia

Additional tags: friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort, sad geralt of rivia, supportive jaskier, trust, grief/mourning, renfri's brooch, inspired by season 3 episode 8

Rating: teen and up audiences

Word count: 2,579 words

Chapters: 1/1

Summary: Geralt always carries a brooch around with him. Jaskier wants to know why.

Author's notes: I can't stop thinking about Jaskier knowing what the brooch meant to Geralt, like, the implications of that??? It must have taken a huge amount of trust on Geralt's side to tell Jaskier this and since i'm insane about this whole thing, i decided I wanna write how that conversation went.

Read on Ao3

*

The brooch always seemed out of place for Jaskier. It wasn't exactly the type of accessory that you would imagine a dark, brooding witcher carrying around: pure gold and shiny gemstones, and delicate carvings that almost made the brooch look like it had an eternal smile.

Yet, Geralt always had it with him, strapped to the hilt of his sword. The sight of it was a little comical, here and there, to have something so pretty stick out during an intense fight with a gruesome monster. If the brooch got covered in blood, Geralt would wash it off with such gentle, caring movements, as if it wasn't just a simple object, but something more important.

But Geralt wasn't such a sentimental kind, was he?

Jaskier has been traveling with Geralt for a couple of months when he first brought up the brooch.

"It's pretty," he pointed out one evening as they sat by the fire, the orange glow of the flames reflecting off the gold.

Geralt followed Jaskier's eyes that fixated on the brooch. He let out a quiet grunt and returned to tending to the fire. Jaskier waited for a few moments. When no more reaction came from Geralt, he continued.

"How long have you had this?"

"A while," was all Geralt said. He didn't even look at Jaskier. Usually, Geralt wore a closed-off, strict expression. At first, Jaskier thought it was only reserved for him and his somewhat annoying shenanigans, but he's quickly learnt that it was just simply Geralt's face. There was something else to it now, though, a deeper, darker emotion, like bitterness.

"Was it a gift?" Jaskier pressed further as he scooted closer to Geralt. "I mean, it was, wasn't it? It looks expensive. Almost like it came from someone royalty."

Something flashed in Geralt’s eyes as he looked at him - like a fleeting moment of anguish. Whatever it was, it made Jaskier's chest tighten.

"How do you know that?"

"I hang around royalty a lot, Geralt, I'm a bard," Jaskier reminded him. "I know what kind of jewelry they wear, so..."

It wouldn't make much sense for Geralt, who famously despised royalty, to accept a gift from someone like that, let alone keep it. Whoever gave it to him, they must have been special.

"It's time for you to sleep," Geralt told him, not bothering with a reply to the actual question. Jaskier snorted.

"You're putting me to bed like a child?"

"You are a child," Geralt replied with a small grin. That made Jaskier sputter, but he did take his place on his bedroll all the same.

The brooch was the last thing he saw before he fell asleep.

--

All of Jaskier's attempts at trying to ask about the brooch turned out to be futile. Geralt either completely ignored Jaskier until he gave up, or he changed the subject right away. If Jaskier was a little too pushy, Geralt would even snap at him and tell him to stop being so nosy.

Jaskier wondered why Geralt was so apprehensive about telling him. As the years have gone by, their bond deepened, and the witcher opened up to him more and more. He trusted Jaskier, that much was obvious: he left him alone with Roach without hesitation, told him about Kaer Morhen and the witcher trials, entrusted him with picking out the right potions for him after a fight. He let him give him baths, for Melitele's sake, it was obvious that Geralt knew Jaskier was someone he could rely on.

And yet, he refused to tell him about the brooch, over and over again.

"It's from someone important," Jaskier noted one day. It wasn't a question, and Geralt realized that, too, because he just stared down at his boots, the muscles in his jaw twitching, like he wanted to reply, just didn't know how.

Jaskier waited for him to open up at last, to let him in - to share something so clearly important with him. He looked at Geralt, trying to silently communicate to him that it was alright, that he could always talk to him about whatever heavy burden plagued him about that brooch.

"Just drop it, Jaskier," Geralt said eventually. The sheer pain in his voice was enough for Jaskier to reach out and give his hand a squeeze. He didn't press it any further. Geralt seemed eternally grateful for it as he laced their fingers together.

--

Jaskier stopped asking about the brooch after that. He relied on his vivid imagination instead as he walked up the hill after Geralt, looking at the gold shining on his sword.

Who could have given it to him? Was it a gift, a sign of gratefulness after Geralt has gotten ridden of a monster? Maybe, but he wouldn't have held it so dear, then. This was something deeper.

An old friend? Someone Geralt greatly cared about, someone who cared for him too - someone that Jaskier hoped to be like, one day, if Geralt was ready for it.

Family? His mother? The only thing that was left of her? Another witcher at Kaer Morhen? A token of love?

Love... maybe it was from someone really close to Geralt's heart. Someone who meant the world to him. Where did they go? Did they leave? Did they die? Did looking at their brooch cause Geralt great pain, a reminder of what he has lost, or did it fill him with joy, giving him the strength to move forward?

"I wish you could talk," Jaskier chuckled softly when he cleaned Geralt's sword and faced the brooch. It was already a big step that Geralt let him clean it, he hasn't before. It felt almost as if day by day, Jaskier got closer to Geralt's heart. Maybe one day he would learn the truth behind the brooch, and he would be fully let inside. Until then, he appreciated what he could get.

"I'd love to know your story. I bet it's a great one, isn't it? Good song material."

The sunlight glinted on the surface of the brooch, almost like it answered him. Jaskier laughed at the silly thought.

"Also, I want Geralt to fully trust me, you know?" Jaskier continued as he scrubbed at a nasty stain on the edge of the sword. "And, I don't know. I feel like you mean something to him. And it would mean a lot to me if he shared you with me."

The way the light reflected in one of the gemstones made Jaskier laugh again, because it looked like the brooch winked at him.

--

Jaskier was about to fall asleep when Geralt slipped out of bed. Jaskier didn’t question it; he knew Geralt often had trouble sleeping as his witcher senses kicked in during the night, picking up every single quiet noise and tiny movement. He also knew about the nightmares, the horrific images of having to take lives, and seeing his witcher brothers die haunting his mind. Jaskier didn’t think a big deal of Geralt leaving their bed, so he pulled the blanket up to his chin and closed his eyes again.

A couple of moments after Geralt got up, the bed dipped again. Jaskier cracked one eye open, trying to get used to the darkness in the room. Geralt was only somewhat illuminated by the moonlight, but Jaskier could still tell he was looking right at him.

"You're awake, then," Geralt stated. Jaskier rubbed his eyes as he sat up against the headboard.

"Yeah. What's wrong?"

Geralt looked down. Jaskier noticed he was holding something in his hand, but couldn't tell what it was in the dim light.

"You used to ask about it a lot," Geralt started. His voice was tired, pained. It woke Jaskier fully at once. Geralt didn't even need to tell him what he meant, because Jaskier immediately knew he was talking about the brooch.

"You've stopped."

"Because it's clear you don't want to tell me," Jaskier replied. "And that's okay, Geralt. I don't want to force you."

"I want to tell you," Geralt said. The moonlight glinted off the brooch as he turned it around in his hand. "I want you to know."

Jaskier hugged his knees to his chest. He tried to appear patient, but his heartbeat picked up as he realized that what he has been waiting for years - for Geralt to truly let him in, to share such an important piece of his soul with him - was finally happening.

"This brooch," Geralt said, looking down on the gold in his hand, "belonged to a girl named Renfri. She was a princess who had to leave her home because she was born under a Black Sun. She was prophesied to be dangerous. But she was just... a girl who was hurt. Too many times."

He looked at Jaskier as he continued. "She was a skilled warrior. Very strong and brave. Any man could have envied her strength. She was also witty and smart. I think you would've liked her."

"You think so?"

"Yes. I often wish you two had a chance to meet."

Something about the way he said it made Jaskier's heart flutter inside his chest.

"Renfri was special. In a way, she really was dangerous. When nothing good ever happens to you, when you keep hurting... it's hard not to become the very thing everyone was told you were going to be. But that did not make her a bad person. She had a right to be angry."

He reached out and took Jaskier's hand. Jaskier drew in a sharp breath when Geralt placed the brooch in his palm, laying his own over it until he covered Jaskier's hand with his own. The brooch was cold, but Geralt's skin was warm against his own.

"She was more than her anger," Geralt continued, looking down on their joined hands. "She also had a right to prove she was more than that. But she didn't have enough time."

"You loved her," Jaskier whispered. Geralt nodded.

"I did. And I killed her."

Jaskier only heard his own heartbeat in the dead silence of the room. Geralt sighed deeply.

"It was always going to end that way," he said, "you truly cannot trick destiny. I was told to choose between the lesser of two evils. I had to kill Renfri to stop her from unleashing chaos on the Continent."

Jaskier's throat felt dry and constricted around his words. "I'm sorry, Geralt."

"This is a reminder for me," Geralt continued. He ran his hand over the brooch, then Jaskier's palm. "That I can't escape the past the same way I can't escape the future. Renfri told me that the girl in the woods will always be with me."

"And who's that?"

"I have a hunch. The destiny I was trying to avoid, again. The one you also warned me about not trying to forget."

In the pale moonlight, Geralt's eyes shone bright as he looked into Jaskier's eyes.

"Renfri was the first human I truly let close to me," he told Jaskier, his voice softer than Jaskier has ever heard it before, "and somehow, although you are very different, I see her in you, sometimes. A constant reminder of my own humanity. And..."

He caressed his thumb over Jaskier's palm again, gently. "I trust you, Jaskier. You bring something good out of me. The same way she could have, but destiny stepped in. But with you... I think things are going to be alright."

Jaskier's eyes welled with tears as his heart nearly burst with an emotion so strong, he couldn't resist that eternal pull anymore - the one that made him follow a grumpy witcher at Posada, the one that never let him leave his side, the one that loved Geralt so dearly, always hoping, always longing to be the one Geralt trusted the most. The one Geralt loved as much as he loved that mysterious girl from the past, who left a part of her heart behind in that brooch.

In that moment, it just felt right when he leaned forward and kissed Geralt. Geralt's arm snaked around his waist and pulled him close until he was on his lap. He grabbed onto Jaskier's shirt like an anchor, holding him close almost desperately. Jaskier wiped Geralt's tears off - or were they his own, he didn't know anymore - as he continued kissing him, silently telling him that he would never leave.

"Thank you," Jaskier whispered as he pulled back to rest his forehead against Geralt's. Their hands were still intertwined over the brooch.

--

The soldier wouldn't let them pass, and they couldn't waste any more time. They needed to find Ciri as soon as possible. Jaskier could have screamed in frustration.

"Wait," Geralt said, reaching into his pocket. Jaskier raised an eyebrow at him. They didn't have any more money on them, so they had nothing to offer as a fee.

"What about this?"

Jaskier gasped when he noticed Geralt holding Renfri's brooch.

"No, Geralt," he whispered, "not that."

Geralt sent him a small smile, and touched his lower back fleetingly. A small gesture of comfort, as if he wasn't the one who was about to pay a douchebag Nilfgaardian soldier with one of the most important objects in his possession. Jaskier tried to reason with him one more time, but Geralt handed the brooch over anyways. Seeing that bastard take it made Jaskier's stomach churn, and his heart clench uncomfortably.

He didn't have time to dwell on it while he had to assist Geralt's fight with the soldiers, but it was the first thing he asked him once they got their horses ready for the road.

"Why?"

Geralt sent him a questioning look. "What do you mean why?"

"The brooch," Jaskier sighed, "Geralt, it was important."

Geralt smiled as he gently tucked Jaskier's hair behind his ear. He cupped his cheek soothingly.

"It's time to let go of the past," he said softly, "and focus on the future."

"But... there must have been another way, Geralt! I could have offered him a blowjob, although it wouldn't have been one given willingly."

"I would have chopped his head off before I let him touch you," Geralt scoffed. He smiled again when Jaskier leaned into his touch. "It had to be done. For Ciri, for all of us. It did mean a lot to me. But it's time to let it go - to let Renfri go."

He kissed Jaskier on the lips before he planted another kiss on his forehead. "Come on. Let's find Ciri."

Jaskier nodded with a smile. Geralt's heart worked in mysterious ways, but Jaskier was slowly learning its intricacies. He knew he was right: cherishing the past was important, but staying stuck in it didn't help anyone. He saw the way Geralt smiled at him before he grabbed the reins of his horse: he looked relieved, like a huge weight has just left his shoulders. The same way he trusted Jaskier with the truth all those years ago, now he trusted him to understand his decision. And Jaskier did.

He looked back at the camp one last time, saying goodbye to the brooch and its history in his mind - and to the girl whom, while he did not know, also meant a lot to him, because she was important to Geralt.

And now it was time to take his beloved witcher's hand and face the future, so they could rescue someone who also meant a lot to both of them.

[karolincki]

Winter Wonder Chaos

Jaskier and Geralt go to Kaer Morhen for winter. Shenanigans and winter fun ensues.

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: none, this is just pure fluff and silliness with cutagens and Witchers who have tails and ears

Read on Ao3

This is a fic for @yakowo as part of the Witcher Winter Exchange from @witcherficwriters . I hope you like it ❤️

---------------------------

Jaskier was bouncing on his feet. Next to him, Geralt was chuckling, while he waited for their luggage to arrive.

Jaskier poked his tongue out at Geralt. "Don't pretend you aren't just as excited as I am to see your family again."

"I am calm personified."

Jaskier snorted. Geralt might be able to fool everyone around them, but even when hidden by a glamour, Jaskier could see the telltale signs of Geralt's tail going haywire. He was just as excited to go back home as Jaskier was.

They were back at the Kaedweni airport to be picked up by Lambert. Jaskier and Geralt had both missed Kaer Morhen and its inhabitants, and as Jaskier was able to work from home, they had decided to come here for winter.

Jaskier had never seen proper winter, Lettenhoven and Oxenfurt both being too far south for snow to ever stick around. He was only slightly disappointed when he found out that it hadn't snowed yet in Kaedwen, but Geralt had promised that by the end of winter he wouldn't be able to stand to see snow. Jaskier highly doubted that. Snow was magical and beautiful.

Geralt's stomach growled and Jaskier snickered. "Poor darling, I'm sure Vesemir will have a lot of food prepared for us."

Geralt huffed and slumped down onto Jaskier, who struggled a little to carry both their weight.

"I surely will have perished until then," he whines. "I hope Vesemir made pierogi."

Jaskier grinned and pressed a kiss to Geralt's cheek. His boyfriend was adorable when pouty.

Finally, after what felt like hours, their luggage came and they rushed out to find Lambert.

They had barely made their way outside when Jaskier was nearly tackled to the ground.

"Aiden," he managed to wheeze out and said witcher purred up a storm as he rubbed himself all over Jaskier. Ahead of him, Jaskier could see Lambert and Geralt engaged in their ritual lets-see-who-can-squeeze-the-other-to-death-first-hug.

Jaskier's heart swelled with happiness. It was good to see they have been missed as much as they missed the other witchers.

Eventually, Aiden let go of him to greet Geralt and Jaskier got to experience the death hug himself. It was weird how happy this made him.

The landscape on their car ride was just as beautiful as last time. Winter in the south meant bare trees and everything looked grey and sad. Here everything was still green due to the evergreens. Jaskier sighed happily. It looked like a fairy tale.

Geralt next to him scooted into the middle seat, sniffing at Jaskier and whining softly.

"What is it?"

"You smell wrong." He was shooting daggers at Aiden who was cackling in the front seat. Seeing Jaskier's confused expression, he added "He scented you and now you smell like Aiden."

Ohhh, Jaskier thought, Geralt is just a jealous puppy again. Smirking, he pressed closer into Geralt.

"I guess you'll just have to mark your territory again."

Hunger flashed across Geralt's eyes, but before he could say something Lambert interrupted.

"Oi! If you two try to get it on in the back, I will throw you out! Don't you dare desecrate my car like that."

Geralt just huffed. "Fuck off, Lambert."

"Fuck you!"

"Maybe if you don't want me to desecrate your car, you should keep your husband in check."

Lambert spluttered and from there on the two brothers fought the entire way back, spurred on by pointed comments from both Jaskier and Aiden.

When they finally made it to Kaer Morhen, Eskel was already waiting for them outside. He wasn't wearing his medallion, so Jaskier could see his tail wagging freely. If it were to go any faster Eskel would surely take off into the air.

As Lambert carried their luggage and Aiden back inside, Jaskier and Geralt got greeted by Eskel. Eskel squeezed Geralt just as hard as Lambert had, but luckily he had a little more sensibility than his youngest brother and subjected Jaskier to a human-safe hug.

"How was your journey?"

"Good, Geralt was so hungry, I had to keep him from fishing a half-eaten sandwich out of the trash can at the airport."

Eskel laughed and Geralt grumbled. He sniffed the air and as his eyes lit up he bolted inside.

Jaskier looked fondly after Geralt. "I had half a mind to just let him. Have you seen the prices? It's ridiculous!"

They went after Geralt and Jaskier quickly found out why his boyfriend had been in such a hurry. The entire house smelled like pierogi.

In the kitchen, Vesemir was fending off Geralt with a wooden spoon.

"Dinner is ready in 10 minutes, you will wait until then and not eat half of them already!"

It seemed that Geralt had taken off his medallion too, because Jaskier could see Geralt's ears twitching, clearly contemplating how to best get around Vesemir to steal some of the pierogi.

Taking mercy on Vesemir so that he could finish cooking, Jaskier pulled Geralt out of the kitchen.

"Come on you big oaf, help me set the table, then you will get to eat faster."

Vesemir nodded at Jaskier in thanks as he did his best to manhandle an uncooperative Geralt to the living room. He sighed. Geralt and hunger were a horrible combination.

Dinner was absolute chaos.

The witchers all behaved like over-excited puppies, talking over each other, demanding each other's attention, and not being able to sit still. Even Vesemir got a little swept up in the general ruckus, smiling broadly and egging his sons on. It was obvious how happy they all were to finally be reunited again.

After dinner, Vesemir send them all out to get their energy out, while he and Jaskier cleaned up a bit.

"I hope my boys weren't too much for you."

Jaskier looked up from where he was washing plates.

"Not at all. Geralt has relaxed around me so much, but coming back here is always something else. I love seeing him completely let go."

Vesemir hummed.

"I'm glad he found you. I never thought a human could accept us all so willingly and freely."

Jaskier blushed. Getting Vesemir's approval so freely meant a lot to him.

"Tell me if they should ever get too much, though. I know hiding places in this house not even my boys know of."

The warmth in Vesemir's voice made Jaskier blush even deeper.

"I will. Thank you for welcoming me into your home."

Vesemir smiled back and went to put the dry dishes back into the cupboards.

When they got back into the living room, Jaskier cooed at the sight.

The Witchers had finally run themselves exhausted and were lying now in a big cuddle pile in front of the chimney. Soft snores could be heard and Jaskier melted at how their ears were twitching in sleep. He was curious what they could be dreaming about.

Jaskier looked over at Vesemir.

"Will you join them?"

"Ah, my old bones won't last a night on the stone floor. Will you?"

"No," said Jaskier laughing. "I did once and I nearly suffocated when they all ended up lying on me. Also, Lambert is a horrible kicker, I don't know how Aiden can live with that."

Vesemir chuckled lowly. "He always used to do that since he was a small pup."

Together they moved upstairs. Jaskier flustered a bit as Vesemir pulled him in for a fatherly hug. His family was nice, but none of them would ever have been this physically affectionate. He had to suppress a grin as Vesemir tried to subtly sniff him, making sure he really was okay.

Jaskier quickly got ready for bed. Moonlight was streaming through a crack in the curtains.

Happily he snuggled into Geralt's huge bed. He could live one night without Geralt. They still would have weeks here together.

He couldn't wait to see what was to come.

————

Four days into their stay a scream woke everyone up. Not Jaskier, though.

He was the origin of the scream.

"Geralt, wake up!!"

Jaskier jumped onto the bed where a sleepy Geralt was trying to hide beneath the blankets.

"Get uuuuup! It snowed!"

Why was Geralt not sharing his excitement? Before he could complain more, an arm shot out from the pile of blankets and dragged him under. Shrieking and laughing he wrestled with Geralt until he could free himself. Quickly he jumped over to the window.

As far as Jaskier could see, everything was covered under a thick blanket of snow. It didn't look like the same place anymore. The snow hid the shapes and forms of the landscape, transforming it into a plane of glittering snow in the morning sun. Brightly grinning, he turned around.

Geralt was sitting up in bed, horrible bed hair, and the blankets pooling around him as he scratched lazily at his naked cheat. His expression was still bleary and full of sleep and usually this would be enough for Jaskier to press Geralt back into bed and lovingly rail him, but today he had more important things to do.

Jaskier didn't even bother putting on thicker clothes or socks before rushing outside.

Which was a mistake.

He took three steps outside before running back in. Jaskier knew snow was cold, but that cold…rather rude of the snow.

Quickly he grabbed his shoes and back out he went.

It was magical. The snow was crunching under his boots but it was still so fluffy to the touch. He gathered enough to make a snowball. It wasn't as round as he wished it to be, but it flew beautifully into the distance anyways.

He turned around at the sound of crunching footsteps. Geralt was walking over, a coat slung over his arm and a besotted smile on his face.

"Did the snow make you forget common sense?" he chided gently.

Only now did Jaskier realise just how cold he has gotten in those few minutes outside and he thankfully let Geralt help him get the jacket on.

"Sorry love, I just got too excited."

"Hmmm, I do know that a happy you tends to lose all his brain cells."

Geralt sneaked his arm around Jaskier and gave his ass a playful squeeze. Jaskier gasped in affront, but Geralt kissed him quickly before he could say anything.

"Let's eat breakfast and then we will all go outside?"

Jaskier pouted, but he let himself be pulled back inside.

The others already sat around the table, munching sleepily on their breakfast. Lambert glared at him.

"You couldn't have been any louder this morning?"

"Sorry," said Jaskier sheepishly.

Lambert grumbled some more but let Aiden soothe him which consisted of the Cat simply depositing himself in Lambert's lap and purring until Lambert stopped scowling so hard. It was adorable.

As promised, they all went out after breakfast. Vesemir had some carrots so they began with building snowmen, which quickly ended in a competition of who could build the biggest and most snowmen.

Later everyone will claim it wasn't them, but when the first snowman got knocked over all hell broke loose. It's everyone for themselves and even Vesemir got dragged into the fight.

Jaskier hid behind a snowman. There was a momentary lull as everyone had spread out to hide and restock their ammunition. Carefully, he peaked around.

There, just below the roof of the stables, was a tail swishing from behind a snowman. Jaskier knew that when the witchers were fighting they could hold perfectly still, but in a play fight like this, their tails tended to betray the fun they were having. And this time also Lambert's position.

Jaskier grinned to himself. Geralt had warned him to not spend time below the roof as the snow on top easily got loose and could bury you. He would use that now to his advantage.

Carefully, he aimed one of his bigger snowballs at the rooftop.

The snowball flew and landed perfectly with a thunk. Something cracked and before Jaskier knew it, the entire snow on the roof came rushing down.

"What the — AAARGGHH!!"

Jaskier howled with laughter as Lambert got buried under the snow, muffled curses coming from beneath it. But he wasn't the only one.

He could hear Aiden laughing, in fact, he laughed so hard that he fell out of his hiding spot in the roof beams.

Jaskier's side was hurting with how hard he was laughing. Lambert slowly clawed his way out of the snow pile and immediately zeroed in on Jaskier. His eyes were speaking murder.

"Oh fuck."

Jaskier suddenly had much more sympathy prey of wolves. Lambert took one step forward and Jaskier booked it.

Geralt just laughed at him as he was chased around by Lambert who was carrying the stomach of a snowman to throw.

————

One of Jaskier's favourite winter activities was just lying on a sofa in front of the chimney with a mug of mulled wine while reading a book.

The wolf witchers were more adventurous. They didn't deal well with being cooped up inside all day and went regularly on long hikes into the mountains. Aiden usually didn't join them. Unlike Jaskier, he was definitely fit enough, but as it turned out, the cat wasn't too happy about the cold and also preferred to stay back and lounge in front of the fire.

Jaskier loved those afternoons. Aiden didn't mind a little conversation, but for the most part he also liked to just relax together in silence.

One afternoon Jaskier decided that he had read enough and maybe he could take a nap. He put his book away and yawned.

Aiden looked up.

"Are you taking a nap?"

Jaskier just nodded in affirmation.

Aiden immediately jumped up from the floor and walked over to the couch. He plopped down beside Jaskier's legs.

"Gonna join me?" Jaskier asked, a yawn interrupting further questions.

Aiden didn't answer. He scooted a little closer and began purring as he pressed first his left and then his right hand into the soft part of Jaskier's legs over and over again.

Jaskier smiled softly. He loved Geralt and he loved his more wolfish instincts, but there was something about those cat mutations that Jaskier found extra adorable.

Baking cookies, Jaskier thought. He smiled as he drifted off to sleep.

He woke up several hours later to Aiden nosing at his neck who by now was cuddling him and the sounds of the wolf witchers returning home. Geralt was the first who entered the living room.

"Hello love, did you have a good trip?"

Geralt hummed and sat down on the ground next to the sofa.

"It was fun, saw some rare species. Vesemir thinks they might be repopulating, so that's exciting."

He leaned forward, sniffed at Jaskier, and growled. It wasn't a playful growl, his ears alert and his lips curling, revealing a row of very sharp teeth.

Aiden immediately jumped away, but he was laughing menacingly as he rushed out of the room.

Jaskier looked confused at Geralt. "What was that about?"

He tried to smooth out Geralt's scowling, but he only scowled harder.

"Aiden marked you. He knows it annoys me when you don't smell like me anymore."

Jaskier had noticed before that Geralt loved it when Jaskier took his clothing and looked unhappy when Aiden was rubbing himself too much on Jaskier. That would explain it.

"Bad kitten. Should I tell him off?"

"Do you like his affection?"

Jaskier cupped Geralt's face in his hands who immediately pressed kisses to his palms.

"I do, but I don't like you being unhappy."

"But I don't want to drive a wedge between you two."

Jaskier leaned forward, kissing Geralt softly. Geralt sighed into the kiss, demanding a few more before he would let Jaskier move away again. Jaskier couldn't help but giggle.

"My sappy wolf. Then how about we get a little revenge on them?"

Geralt grinned mischievously.

"I love the way you think. What's the plan?"

"Well, I'm gonna assume that Lambert and Aiden equally like it for their things to smell of them?"

"Yeah, it just feels right."

"Then how about we fuck in their bed, make it smell of us?"

Geralt pulled away, his eyes blown wide in surprise.

"That's mean…they will hate that. Lambert will explode when he finds out."

"Oh, well, if it is too much…"

Geralt laughed. "No, it's fucking perfect. Lambert wanted to take Aiden into town tomorrow." He leaned a little closer to whisper into Jaskier's ears. "I will fuck you until you can't come anymore and then I'll fuck you some more."

Jaskier moaned, his entire body immediately burning with arousal.

"Fuck, yes pleased, Geralt." He sat up and moved into Geralt's lap. "I also think we should practice for that right now."

Geralt growled and caught his lips in a kiss again. It was the complete opposite of their earlier kisses, hungry and with too much teeth, but Jaskier couldn't care anymore. It has been a while since they last had sex.

Jaskier yelped when Geralt suddenly stood up and carried him up to their room without any effort. Another wave of arousal hit him at that casual display of strength.

On their way, they passed Aiden. Jaskier winked at him. The consequences be damned, if this kind of revenge gets Geralt going this much, then he will happily do it again.

————

They all spend most of their time at Kaer Morhen, but from time to time Vesemir sent them out for errands. Today it was Jaskier, Lambert, and Eskel's turn to go into town.

As they'd be among people, the witchers put on their medallions again to hide their more animalistic traits, but Jaskier missed seeing their true forms. He had gotten used to them so much.

But even when their outward mutations might be gone, their inner ones did not.

Eskel was the one who liked to pretend the most that there was nothing unusual about them. When in public he always pretended to just be a regular human.

Lambert did not care for that. He sniffed around constantly, following smells and noises. Eskel had to reign him back in more than once when he tried to walk off to find the source of an especially delicious smell.

They were on their way back to the car when Lambert began to throw snowballs at Eskel.

"Cut it out, Lambs."

"Why, you need to loosen up a bit!"

Eskel just threw Lambert an exasperated look while Lambert continued to throw snow at him. Jaskier snickered on the side. Brotherly love could be a lot. Eskel growled lowly at Lambert when he tried to throw the next one. Lambert stopped for a second and then changed tactics. Now he was trying out just how close he could throw the snowballs next to Eskel's head. Eskel rolled his eyes but didn't say anything anymore.

When they got back to the car, Lambert threw one especially close. Before either of them knew what happened, Eskel had caught the snowball.

With his mouth.

He stopped, startled about what just had happened.

Jaskier and Lambert were turning red in their faces trying to suppress their laughter. The confused expression on Eskel was just too funny.

Jaskier lost his fight against his laughter, when Eskel growled, spit out the snow in his mouth, and tackled Lambert to the ground.

He was in stitches as he watched Lambert getting his ass beaten. Eskel had him in a headlock and was stuffing snow down Lambert's jacket.

"Asshole! Get off me! Nooooo, it's cold."

"Beg me for it, Lambchop," Eskel said now laughing while continuing to press snow to Lambert's face.

"Fuck you!"

Jaskier watched them for a few more minutes and packed the car as Lambert couldn't break out of Eskel's hold on the slippery ground.

Eventually, he gave up the fight. He was trying to nose at Eskel's neck and lick it in a show of submission.

"Are you sorry?" Eskel said, not sounding angry anymore.

"Yes, I'm sorry. Please let me go," Lambert whined, pouting at Eskel.

Eskel chuckled and licked a long line across Lambert's face, who bristled but submitted to the treatment.

They helped each other off of the ground and with a still giggling Jaskier in tow they drove back home.

————

Jaskier loved winter here in Kaedwen. The snow was beautiful, the landscape magical and he had been able to try out so many winter activities like skiing and sledging that he never got to do before, it was just a joy all around.

Every time he thought the snow was gonna melt away there came a new snowstorm, trapping them all inside and laying down a new layer of snow.

They spend their days in front of the chimney, drinking warm beverages, telling stories, and playing games, and Jaskier honestly never felt more at home.

He did start missing Oxenfurt though. And spring. And seeing other colors besides white.

Jaskier would never admit to it though.

With the weeks passing it was getting warmer and warmer. Jaskier knew that by now in Oxenfurt the first spring flowers had sprouted because Priss had sent him so many pictures that he'd gotten rather jealous.

One morning Jaskier woke up, Geralt already getting dressed and looking out the window.

"Did the snow finally melt?"

A shadow flickered over Gerald's face, but Jaskier couldn't decipher in time what it meant.

"No, it actually snowed last night."

"What?!" That couldn't be, it was supposed to be warmer by now! Quickly Jaskier jumped out of the bed and rushed to the window.

"You ass!" he shouted. It had, in fact, not snowed anymore. Most of the snow had melted away and nature was waking up out of its winter sleep. There were patches of early spring flowers all over the fields and Jaskier jumped excitedly up and down.

"Did you get sick of the snow after all?" Geralt teased. He stepped closer and wrapped his arms around Jaskier, nuzzling into his neck.

Jaskier huffed. "I'm not admitting to anything. It's just nice to see something else for a change."

Behind him, Geralt chuckled.

"So next winter we will come again?"

"You bet we will.

[andordean]

Intro Post Is Here

I promised myself I would make an intro post with my fic list when I hit a followers milestone, and lo and behold, the time has come to make good on that promise. 

(Breathe in. You got this, Dor. Ok, here we go.)

Welcome, friends. If you followed me sometime in the last year and a half, here’s a funny story for you: I used to write Witcher fics (a lot even, at one point) (and I pray I will write again, though at the moment brain be words what no speaky English). (But I digress.)

What you can find on my blog: shitposting, sarcasm, salt—and Ciri. A lot of Ciri. (Often tagged as: "brat <3". No reason.) Also, many Ciri pairings. We support most Ciri pairings in this house.

What you can find on my AO3: Also a lot of Ciri in different pairings, or sometimes in multiple pairings, as (a) I am a multishipper and (b) Ciri is bi and can do no wrong and (c) has two hands and a hatred for cages and also (d) poly/open relationships are the new love triangles and we need more of them, actually.

Specifically:

"Blood Ties" verse, aka Queen of Cintra verse (aka mammoth), or a 100k words novel in three parts about what happens if neither witchering nor ruling the empire (nor dying, I guess) fully satisfies our girl's ambitions. (Answer: let’s go and shake up the geopolitical landscape of the post-TW3 Continent, reclaim your throne, piss off Dijkstra in the process, make new allies and enemies both, grow and heal, get what you wanted, find indulgence, and also love. Ships aplenty, including some nobody else thought of. Just saying.)

"Broken Pieces" verse, or what happens if Cahir survives, but somewhat fails to move on (he tries), and Ciri fails to be indifferent (she also tries). (Answer: witchering shenanigans, but also some family reunions, Ceallach being a Smart Cookie, Geralt being the Daddest Dad, Ciri being a brat, but also right, but also needing a reality check and to get her head out of her ass. Spoiler alert: happy/bittersweet ending. It’s Witcher-verse, after all.)

"Splinters" verse, or what happens when the author develops a brainrot. (Answer: modern!AU with the main theme being: everyone is thirsty for Cahir/Eamon’s hands. Banter, pinning, thirst, smut, and more banter. Past that comes back to bite everyone in the ass, heartbreak, and a happy ending. Always a happy ending. And Angouleme being the Best Gremlin.)

“The Ghost of You”, or what happens when Ciri gets Ideas, and tries to use Cahir to get what she wants. (Formerly known as the Cancel WIP. Mind the tags with this one; set during LotL, unhealthy coping mechanisms aplenty, trauma and PTSD galore, leading to the first steps of healing. It’s always, always about healing with these two.)

“Sing To Me In The Dark”, or what happens if Cahir finds himself in Kaer Morhen to help defend it from the Hunt. (Answer: the author wants to know too. Although the author mostly knows, but brain no speaky English, see above.)

“Hunter’s Moon”, or what happened in Beauclair during the hansa stay there, from the point of view of a certain succubus. (Answer: a certain vampire attempting to be a smartass, not always succeeding; smut and banter, and more smut. Also, a heartbreak.)

If you like any of the above and tell me about it, chances are I’ll be making you a birthday gift the following year.

In the meantime, enjoy the shitposting, the salt, the sarcasm—and Ciri.

[0dde11eth]

Papa Vesemir: don't drink coke. It'll rot your teeth

Lambert: yeah that's why I snort it

Papa Vesemir: Listen here, you little shit.

***in the background of the lecture***

Eskel: *whispering to geralt* wouldn't the bubbles hurt his nose?

[eycsnow666]

Hey! You asked me, and I love these sort of games, so I'm paying it forward.

If you want to do the character aske, I'd ask for your take on Geralt of Rivia 🥰

ah Geralt, my beloved most neutral witcher and bestest monster killer in all the land (/s ^^)

Sexuality Headcanon: once upon a time, a young Geralt fancied himself strictly as a woman’s man, and that his same sex dalliances w other witchers were simply bc of lonely nights in Kaer Morhen. Until he left KM and found himself not averse to bedding women and men alike. Life is full of surprises and sometimes they are children, sometimes the discovery that cock is prettty good. And since life as a witcher is Toil and Labour, he wasn’t about to over-complicate smth he personally had no objections with just because some rando noble might be uncomfortable. Quite the useful attitude for a witcher living on the outskirts of civilisation, so that worked out for him.

This is just my hc for a TW3 timeline with overt homophobia, based on the encounter with Mislav. Because CDPR have proven themselves cowards by not showing a single dick in the entirety of the games and therefore cannot be 100% trusted with canon, I like to also imagine another where homophobia is less prominent (and non-existent in most regions) where geralt is…exactly the same. no fucks given except for in bed ;)

Gender Headcanon: a cis man, and pragmatic and doesn’t give a hoot if prudes shake their heads at his gender non-conforming habits. if a warm, comfy article of clothing in his possession happens to be a dress, it’s being worn, and how majestic. he knows how to braid hair, bc it doesn’t hurt to know how. Bonus: kid!Ciri adored him for it. Besides, gender-coding things sounds like an Other People kinda problem, and he is but a simple witcher with potions to brew and blades to oil, so…

A ship I have with said character: Geralt/Emhyr is my current obsession💖 Geralt/Regis and Geralt/Dettlaff are two close faves. All simultaneously within the same timeline bc my blorbos love to share

A BROTP I have with said character: a begrudging understanding between Geralt and Mererid, whose dislike of Geralt rose exponentially when he heard of Emhyr taking on Geralt as a lover. But Geralt worked some magic (read: really good sex and perhaps some axii for the nerves) to make emhyr’s mood do a 180 or maybe just a 90, he’s still a grump sometimes

and mererid was like, ‘you. you can stay.’

A NOTP I have with said character: none particularly? m8 if I encounter a ‘squick’ ship (think themes of incest for example) that’s also well-crafted, count me in for eating the dead dove

Random headcanons:

The only time he seriously reassessed his sex life was: 1) after falling for Regis, and even then it was more bc of the mental image of Papa Vesemir scolding him that he was meant to fight, not fuck this creature, and 2) falling for Emhyr, but then he seriously contemplated many other things too…

No way is he not a good cook what with those witcher-level potion brewing skills and olfactory senses

he has really nice hands! when they’re not encrusted with monster gore, anyway. and he takes good care of them too

General Opinion over said character: one of my fave things abt his character is that even though he’s pushing 100, he’s still a big awkward turtle. and also that his hero complex pulls him in directions he wouldn’t intentionally go makes him even more fun (see: every single bit of politics shenanigans his allegedly neutral arse gets swept into). I love him. my babygirl.

that was fun, thanks for the ask!!

[inexplicifics]

Was just browsing through some old awau asks here, and came across some from before Mouse’s official introduction fic (and thus before you had decided she was aro), and we were tossing around the fun idea of Liliana having crushes on Ciri or Milena or others 😋 I personally still think one of Ciri’s eventual ladies in waiting should be like this, but mostly just bc I find puppy love deeply amusing and adorable

Hah, yes, that had to undergo some revisions. But there should definitely be some puppy love shenanigans once there's a decent number of ladies-in-waiting wandering around Kaer Morhen.

...Someone probably gets an enormous crush on Dragonfly, much to Livi's amusement and Dragonfly's bafflement.

[fist-amidst-the-hands]

How about hunt_recovery and/or bards_rules as well?

I have many feelings about both of these so... both! both is good

this is for the wip ask game!

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hunt recovery: this is a very classic geralt gets back from a contract, jaskier takes care of him style fic! I believe it's also one of if not the very first fic I started drafting when I picked up writing again last year.

basic plot points include: geralt returns from his contract in a zoned out not-very-present state, jaskier alarmingly evaluates for signs of injury before realizing the damage is likely internal, the ritualistic drawing of the post-traumatic-incident bath, gentle hair washing after confirmation that small touches are okay, comforting silence for both of their minds to wander and jaskier’s lands on the weight of how much geralt has had to endure at the hands of humans he’s only helped, and geralt getting pulled out of his own wandering thoughts at the realization that jaskier smells sad

and here's a snippet that I was happy with figuring out the phrasing for:

Jaskier gives a gentle squeeze to his shoulder. "What kind of monster?" "Worst kind." Geralt sighs, finally turning to meet Jaskier’s gaze. "Hum-" "-man". Their voices echo in unison, the word hanging heavy in the air. Jaskier knows better than to press for details, at least for the time being.

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bard's rules: this one was inspired by this post, it's a lighthearted one where jaskier goes with geralt to kaer morhen for the winter and is trying to get geralt to give him cuddles. basically he posts a law like the inspiration post except it says "all bards must be kissed and cuddled and loved by witchers" then many shenanigans and helpful teasing from the other wolves ensue!

Finally Jaskier realizes that if he’s going to make any progress at all he’s going to need to take more drastic measures. In what can only be described as divine intervention from the gods, the idea comes to him: he’ll declare a new law. He gets to work drawing up the decree and wastes no time in framing and hanging the placard in the main hall. In case the sight of Jaskier doing what could approximately be referred to as “home repairs” (but in reality is closer to “interior design”) wasn’t enough to draw attention, he gave a few extra taps of the hammer for good measure.