#mothman jaskier

[makeshift-prime-art]

My esty has returned! Ive got stickers, bookmarks, badges and prints avalible ^-^

https://makeshiftartbyanna.etsy.com

[roughentumble]

modern au of the witcher but all the witchers are different cryptids. but like in the way a date sim would have cryptids, like the sexy version of cryptids. reasoning? i think its a funny idea

[altsmultimuse]

𝐃𝐀𝐒𝐇 𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄: GET TO KNOW THE MUN.

What’s your phone wallpaper: my lock screen is my cat Majora, & my home screen is fanart of Yennefer & Jaskier giving Geralt a kissy on the cheek ❤️

Last song you listened to: "Eyes Closed" by Ed Sheeran

Currently reading: "Hannibal" by Thomas Harris, & "Blood of Elves" by Andrzej Sapkowski

Last movie: The Super Mario Movie

What are you wearing: Mothman pajamas from Em and Sprout on Etsy! ( unfortunately they don't sell the ones i'm wearing anymore )

Piercings / tattoos: piercings: right ear lobe & septum. tattoos: もう一回 on my right wrist, a full color bust of Link from Legend of Zelda on my left shoulder, & a grayscale shaded... i guess you could call it a bust? of the angel from "The Fallen Angel" by Alexandre Cabanel on my inner left bicep.

Glasses / contacts or both? glasses

Last thing you ate: ummm uhhh i think it was a mini hershey's chocolate bar w/ peanuts

Favorite color(s): blue & pink

Current Obsession: NBC's Hannibal, Red Dead Redemption 2, Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom

Do you have a crush? i did for a little while but i don't think so anymore??? idk

Favorite fictional character? I Cannot Choose Just One.

Tagged by: @talentbloomed​ // Tagging: whoever wants to do it!

[onemorecoffeeshopau]

Gonna write a to-write list for when I've finished doing exam season cos I have thoughts for my blorbos and I wouldn't wanna forget how I planned to torture them :)

Jaskier character study between S1 and S2 (how long is that btw?), gonna really go for him having a horrible time, heartbroken etc. It'll be great, trust

Mothman!Jon Magnus archives, I owe a friend this one so that'll appear sometime. Going for cryptid YouTuber au and I think it's funny if Jon is mothman and also a sceptic

Clarabelle (my oc) is gonna have some fun ;) with some vampires. You don't get to see this yet but maybe I'll show people at some point lol

Body horror poetry - this one is pretty self explanatory

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

Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

?

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

[thewhitewolfsbard]

yes, this is ABSOLUTELY jaskier

JESTERCORE is the hot new thing

[thebibliosphere]

Scrolling past a gifset on Tumblr, and Joey Batey’s face popped up. I paused briefly, as you do, and from behind me, buried in the depths of the elephant graveyard of technology that is his desk, I heard a very small but enthusiastic “Jaskier!♡” 

I think @mothman-etd​ is excited for more bard :P

[fceriestcrdst]

1, 4, 8,,, 13 :)

1. who is/are your comfort character(s)?

Steven Grant, Marc Spector, Jake Lockley, Poe Dameron, Matt Murdock, Foggy Nelson, Karen Page, Eddie Munson, Steven Harrington, Billy Hargrove, Jaskier.....the list goes one

4. which cryptyd being do you believe in?

Loch Ness, Bigfoot, Mothman!!!!

8. how many water bottles are in your room right now?

Several---too many!!

13. when was the last time you ate?

I'm eating chicken strips & some taquitos right now!!!

send me asks

[ao3feed-geralt-jaskier]

by Bouncey

Geralt is hired by a local farmer to catch "Mothman" and winds up having to rehabilitate a rather adorable Fae named Jaskier instead.

Words: 2627, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion

Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion

Additional Tags: Cryptid Jaskier, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia is Still a Witcher, Strangers to Lovers, Mothman Jaskier, Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Part-Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, say something i'm giving up on you ('you' being the canon), I love LAMP, Jaskier's Moth-like Tendencies, Mild Blood, So so mild, Fluff

[just-j-really]

I’m just imagining a Geraskier modern au (everyone’s-immortal-somehow or strict-modern-au-but-Geralt’s-still-a-witcher, take your pick). Jaskier’s some degree of famous and writes songs about Geralt, because obviously.

Most of them are your regular old love songs, with some Pining and Lust thrown in for flavor. But there’s this one song that’s more or less just a straightforward description of Geralt fighting a monster. Like it’s full of poetic descriptions and metaphors and whatnot, but that’s what it is. He wanted to write an epic-poem-type song about his boyfriend.

Everybody thinks it’s this Deep Metaphor, but no one can agree what it’s a metaphor for- a toxic relationship? wanting to fight your partner’s inner demons for them? sex?

Until some reporter asks him, “So. What’s ‘My Boy Hunts Monsters’ about?”

And he’s like “My boyfriend? Who hunts monsters?”

The reporter, confused: “He’s a hunter?”

Jaskier, also confused: “No, he’s a witcher. He hunts monsters. This song is very literal I don’t know how everyone missed it.”

This has two important consequences:

1. A very famous singer just said, completely seriously, the equivalent of “Yup, I’m dating the Mothman” on live television. No one knows what to do with this information. No one knows if he’s serious.

2. Geralt is quietly panicking because “wait??? we’re dating??? but I- I thought we were just- i didn’t realize he- holy shit we’re dating?!!???”

[westmoor]

horror fiction writer!jaskier modern au part ? of ?

"Well?" Jaskier was sliding into the chair across the table before Geralt could even put the papers down, fingertips tapping out an upbeat rhythm on his steaming coffee mug. The morning light streamed in just the right side of blinding, illuminating stray waves of his hair, catching in eyelashes, turning already clear blue eyes a nearly ethereal hue. Geralt always chose this spot for a reason. "You must have a review for me. Keep it short, to a blurb or less."

The writer had been working hard lately, pushing through the final total overhauls before the day’s deadline, absorbed in the way he only really got at this stage in the process, present and engaged but mind clearly divided, always half off running lines of wording and mulling over structure. Getting him to wrap up and head to bed the night before had been a stressful affair.

"It’s unrealistic." 

Anticipative smile not slipping even for a moment, Jaskier set his drink on the polished wood and leaned in, as though physically drawing the continuation out of his partner. “...What’s unrealistic?”

“The creatures in your story. They don’t exist.” 

Jaskier leaned back and rolled his eyes. “Oh, bull- First of all, it’s fiction, darling. Some artistic license is permissible. And second of all, I’ll have you know that the creature featured in this story is absolutely and verifiably real.” 

Raising a brow, Geralt pointedly drained his own mug.

“Oh, well, alright, just because you’ve never encountered it in all of your - “ He gesticulated, wiggling his fingers in Geralt’s direction. “ - your Witchering, it doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist! There are multiple collaborated accounts and credible witnesses, as well as decent photographic evidence, going back at least to 1966-”

“Jaskier.” 

Fearing the ramifications of agitation at this point, bright-eyed but high-strung and threadbare as his boyfriend was, Geralt nipped the rant before it could pick up to its natural crest. 

“The Mothman does not exist.” And quickly added, as Jaskier raised a palm preparing a challenge: “And we are not going to West Virginia to see who’s right.”

[all-hail-the-witcher]

okay so we all know the buzzed unsolved theory that shane is actually a demon and the reason why ryan never gets anything on video is because shanes scaring all the ghosts away. 

so i propose a bfu au where all the witchers are secretly ghosts/demons/general spooky things and jaskier is a  paranormal enthusiast and theyre like “damn we really gotta protest this dumbass dont we?” 

lambert plays the part of shane, jaskier is ryan, eskel films (but its on an iPhone 5 they bought on eBay and its vertical and he has the shakiest hands known to man), aiden hides behind the camera and makes spooky noises and geralt usually doesnt come because he finds it stupid. his job is to cuddle jaskier after when hes scared. occasionally though, when jaskier wants to sleep in a scary location he comes “for protection”

eskel is goat man, lambert is mothman, aiden is some cat who never runs out of lives and no one knows what geralt is cause he refuses to tell anyone. they all vow to never tell jaskier.

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

Sorry, but I can’t stop thinking about Mothkier AU. And how the others Witcher would react after they get together that Geralt is a monsterfucker. And if you do it with a more serious note, how Vesemir would probably be disapproving(/disgusted) because sparring harmless creatures is one thing, loving them another. Just Geralt defending his Monster BF to (from) his family

See technically. He isn’t the only monsterfucker in the family. Although I’m not sure if Vesemir knows that...

I’m actually torn between Jaskier is just a whole fuckin’ mothman and that’s that, if he’s a part-time mothman with the ability to be either human or mothy, OR if he was, once, a regular human dude and he can be cured of his mothmanism.

Like - in terms of narrative wrap-up-ability, I favour the last one (it’s just easier to write), but in terms of shit-i-like, I do kinda just want him to be a big ol’ mothman and that is that on that. I’m also a sucker for Beauty and the Beast style magical transformation sequences. Love that shit.

(Also there’s loads of potential for splitting up over winter angst, cos I imagine moths don’t like places covered in snow very much, so that’s always fun)

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

Mothskier vs. the Haunted House

Welcome to the first of this year's annual "Very Bouncey Halloween" stories! At the request of my beloved @veritasrose I have written some cute Mothskier fluff!

tw: haunted house spooks (brief description of a jump scare)

---

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Geralt asks, taking Jaskier by the hand. The half-Fae’s wings flutter a little in annoyance and he glares over at his boyfriend, eyes narrowing dramatically when their gazes lock.

“This is one of the few seasonal human traditions that seems scary and fun,” he asserts. “I don’t want to miss out!”

“Alright,” the Witcher relents. “But next weekend I get to choose the date activity."

Jaskier nods his consent to this suggestion, antennae bouncing.

The Witcher smiles, presses a quick kiss to Jaskier's fluffy brown hair, and asks: "Do you have the tickets?”

“I printed them out this morning" - Jaskier offers up the folded papers - "Here.”

“Excellent."

Geralt takes the tickets from Jaskier and slips them into his hoodie pocket, keeping them clutched tight as they make their way from the parking lot to the small front gate. After a quick pause to wait in line, Geralt hands their entry passes to the bored-looking teenage attendant at the window.

“Welcome to Hawthorne’s Haunted Halloween Spooktacular,” the dark-haired boy says in a tired monotone as he fastens the day-glo orange bracelet-passes around Geralt and Jaskiers’ wrists. “Enter only if you dare, and please remember to keep your hands to yourself inside the haunted houses.”

Jaskier's mouth opens as if to question the lad and Geralt ushers him forward quickly, into the half-assed Main Square area of the Halloween attraction.

“Do I really have to keep my hands to myself?” Jaskier asks, glancing down at where Geralt’s fingers are intertwined with his own. “Because I'd much rather stick to holding your hand!”

The Witcher bites his lip to keep from chuckling; the Faerie’s naivety about human society and traditions can be ridiculously adorable sometimes. “He meant that you’re not allowed to hit or kick the actors who work here. You have to keep your hands to yourself when you're around the employees.”

“Oh. Well of course!” Jaskier practically squawks. “It would be incredibly rude to do my host an injury!”

“That's well and true for everybody, most of the time, but people often react strangely when they’re frightened.”

Jaskier squeezes Geralt’s hand in reply, his antennae flicking back and forth in the air as his eyes sweep from one haunted house to the next. “There’s so many!"

“Yeah, that’s why they’re allowed to charge us so much to get in.”

“I paid for my own ticket,” the Fae sticks his tongue out. “You could have spared yourself the fifteen bucks and stayed home for the evening with a nice book or your sword or something equally boring and lonely, you know.”

“And miss out on seeing you absolutely shit your pants when an underpaid university student jumps at you with a chainsaw?” Geralt teases, “No way!”

Jaskier yanks his hand free from Geralt’s grip and makes his way to the closest attraction, which happens to be themed after a science lab. There’s a poorly ripped-off Doc Brown painting being mostly illuminated by a dying blacklight above the words: Laboratory of Despair: Enter Only if You Dare!

“Oh my gods, that’s so corny,” Geralt hears Jaskier mutter under his breath. The Witcher chuckles out loud this time and Jaskier whips around to look at him.

“It’s a terrible sign, yeah,” Geralt nods. “Now how about we see what the lab has to offer, hmm?”

Jaskier grips at the hem of Geralt’s hoodie sleeve and nods, betraying his nerves by worrying his lip between his teeth. His false bravado and anger from before have abandoned him completely. “Okay.”

Geralt steps through the fringe of black beads that covers the door and pulls his anxious boyfriend along behind him. He can hear the way Jaskier’s wings are shivering and twitching. The slender Fae's twin antennae dance atop his head, searching for information about his surroundings without making a sound. Geralt runs his thumb in gentle circles over the back of Jaskier’s knuckles, practically smelling the relief that pours off the pretty creature as they continue into the darkness.

A few steps later, just as a light appears at the end of the tunnel, a person in a cheap rubber bug mask pops out from behind a false wall, buzzing into Geralt’s personal space. The Witcher feels himself shoved back, a slightly smaller body coming between him and the half-bored actor. Jaskier hisses assertively, his whole body tense and alert, until the teenager disappears back behind the wall to wait for his next round of hapless victims to wander past.

Geralt leans down to whisper as they continue walking, “Did you just try to protect me from a seventeen year old in a shitty costume?”

“Can’t let my mate get hurt,” Jaskier replies simply. Geralt balks a bit. Mate? Is that what we are, mates?

“I appreciate it,” Geralt praises, enjoying the way his boyfriend preens at his words. “Even though I am perfectly capable of protecting myself.”

Jaskier doesn’t reply. Instead, he tugs Geralt close and continues bravely into the next section of the haunted house. His instincts had shown themselves once again, eager to prove to Geralt that he was a worthy partner. He couldn’t have known, of course, that he was far worthier than Geralt had ever dreamed.

[iliveinmyblanket]

Jaskier: if I were the mothman

Jaskier: and I'm not

Ciri: don't lie to me

[twinkbouttapounce]

Jaskier has “Mothman is my husband” vibes