#pirate geraskier

[buffskierights]

happy valentines day have you heard the news?

i have a new fic :3c

it's about pirates, and geraskier, and ghosts, and more pirates. i highly recommend reading it :3c :3c :3c

here's the link to the moon bleeds red (for those who fear the dead)

[thedemonofcat]

The pirate ship Kaer Morhen, captained by Geralt of Rivia, gets an intriguing offer: a job to transport a mysterious cargo across the sea for a significant reward. Geralt accepts, but he's taken aback when he discovers what—or rather who—the cargo is.

The precious cargo turns out to be Julian Pankratz, the Viscount of Lettenhove, who needs to be ferried across the sea to meet his arranged marriage obligations. It's not as straightforward as it seems; Julian, who prefers to be called Jaskier, has a knack for escaping. Geralt and his crew are tasked with ensuring he doesn't slip away during the voyage.

Initially, Jaskier is treated like just another piece of cargo, confined and monitored. But as the journey progresses, he begins to connect with the crew. Geralt and Jaskier, in particular, form a bond that grows deeper with each passing day.

Their mission to deliver Jaskier becomes increasingly complex when it's clear that Geralt and Jaskier's feelings for each other go beyond friendship—they are in love and perhaps destined to be together

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 4

Geralt is the captain of a pirate ship, named "Kaer Morhen." Perhaps he's still a witcher, perhaps he's just a regular old human (with white hair and golden eyes? Lol) His brothers (and "cousins" from other witcher schools) are his crew Now I can see this going two different ways, so choose a favorite (or make up your own, I am only the beginning, I hold no affront of being anything more) Jaskier is a nobleman's son, aboard his family's ship, possibly on his way to be forced into a marriage to a woman he doesn't love. And either he falls overboard or he's shoved off as a murder attempt, but he's lost in the ocean. Lambert (or someone else, but I love to imagine how Lambert would attempt to call this out to his captain who he doesn't take seriously 90% of the time, #brothers) calls that he spots a man bobbing in the sea, and they haul him up. The majority of the crew sees sight of his jewels and finery and insists on holding him ransom. But when the prisoner wakes up and isn't afraid of death, Geralt looks into this a little more. Apparently their prisoner won't get a ransom because his entire family despise him and his want to run away and become a bard. Funny. Most pirate ships have entertainers aboard to help the pirates deal with months of nothing but ocean. Perhaps they'll have use of this dumb twink after all. OR, option number two Jaskier is a nobleman's son, chained and starved for the crime of wanting to become a bard and not wanting to marry some prissy noblewoman. He hears a lot of loud noises and screams and then a bunch of burly men in fur cloaks stomp down and start rifling through their supplies. One catches eye of him and immediately yells to the captain. The captain is a very handsome man with silver locks and bright eyes, and the dreaded pirate captain is treating Jaskier with more kindness and gentleness than his family or their workers ever have. The pirate hauls Jaskier up into his arms and carries him to their own ship, laying him down in his own bed, and looking over his injuries and sending one of his crewmembers to make hm a fine meal. Jaskier begins telling the captain of his abusive life beforehand and mentions that all he's ever wanted is to spread music and love, and shockingly enough, this big scary (gorgeous) man doesn't even laugh at him for it.. Oh fuck he's falling in love-

♡!Optional addons!♡ • Geralt gayly teaching his bard how to swordfight!!!

• Perhaps Jaskier's family is crueler and has done more than beat him, perhaps they've stabbed him or something, and the very last thing he sees before he passes out from bloodloss is Geralt (Maybe he even thinks he's an angel! Lmfao)

• Geralt getting lovingly bullied by his brothers for taking care of his songbird so well

• Geralt's crew revenge-robbing or revenge-killing Jaskier's family if we do Option one for the story (attempted-murder route), since it's implied it happens in Option Two while they ransack the ship-

• Perhaps I'll do a sequel for this prompt one day for Mermaid Jaskier, I do LOVE mermaids, take this as a much smaller and much less detailed prompt for if you want that idea, too! Perhaps the Pankratz ship has a captured mer aboard, parched and dehydrated (I just mostly think it'd be funny if Geralt was checking his pulse and if he has any injuries while random other witches dump buckets of sea water on him-)

[tielmamon]

ok ok but have you ever thought about Ed sitting down at some bar with his crew all intimidating and heartbroken when suddenly he hears someone singing about “After everything we did, we saw. You turned you back on me, what for?” and “Watch me burn all the memories of you...” he turns to see Jaskier close to tears on stage with the same exact anger and hurt that he’s been feeling ever since Stede left him on that fucking dock-

Then, ignoring Izzy’s protests he goes up to the bard and opens up because for some reason, he feels like this man just gets it and of course Jaskier does. They bond and eventually, Blackbeard offers him a spot on his crew. And Jaskier, looking to get away from everything and finally give Geralt his blessing of taking himself off his hands agrees. 

u ever just think of that sometimes? no? ok

[solarphase1]

More of Geraskier pirates or something -

“Who are you, anyways?”

His captain and captor peered at him under a too-big jeweled crown, lounging upon the day's hoard. The question was flat, but his eyes were curious. The moonlight reflected first from the water’s surface, then second off of the gold and jewels. It bounced around Jaskier in all directions, and he looked truly in that moment, and for the first time since Geralt had seen him, like he may not be entirely human after all.

“A sailor from Rivia. As I told you before.” Geralt hummed the response regarding the other from where he was still bound to the mast.

“Except you aren’t Rivian. Wrong accent.”

Jaskier stood, gold clinking with the movement, and within a few steps crouched down to eye level while displaying something in his hand with a small flourish.

“And these are letters of Marque, from your coat. Which, I’m guessing, makes you about the poorest bounty hunter of the era,” his eyes narrowed, with curiosity rather than malice, “you don’t even get the bounty.”

Yellow eyes leveled him cooly at the accusation, “Sailor.”

“Privateer,” Jaskier tucked the papers away once again, standing to full height. “And you’re not human either. So what in the devil are you?”

The man did not give an answer for a while, pondering something. Perhaps wondering if he should lie. Then, after a moment -

“Witcher.”

Immediately Jaskier scoffed a disbelieving laugh. “No,” a finger wag and disapproving chuckle, “witchers don’t exist.”

He was met only with a flat, blank, unwavering and…truthful stare. And silence. He stared at Geralt a moment in that silence before sputtering back to life with breathy denial.

“No, no - you are most certainly not going to sit there and look at me as though I’m the one being ridiculous here. Sure, you’re a Witcher, that should be simple enough considering the only standing Mythos - the mere MYTH of Witchers - is, what, 2000 years old??”

“So you do know your history.”

“Mythology,” the captain corrected as he ceased his pacing and looked, really looked at the strange man. A moment of thoughtful silence. Something wary, something fearful behind blue eyes. “Prove it.”

“Untie me.”

“Ah, so that's it then,” He was back to banter, “quite a flimsy escape plan I really must say I’ve heard better - HAH - silly Jaskier, almost falling for the ‘I’m a Witcher,’ play, oldest move in the book…” His little monologue teeters out as he falls back on his pile of gold.

“What am I going to do with you? The Not-Witcher from Not-Rivia…”

[thesaintofnevergettingitright]

Hey legit question: I’m probably 2/3 of the way through my fic and I want to finish it this week… would anyone be willing to beta??

A) I need the external motivation lol and B) I’m desperate for some feedback from someone familiar with both fanfic in general and The Witcher more specifically.

I would pay you in eternal gratitude???

K thanks bye.

[a-kind-of-merry-war]

Did my part to vote the fuckers out!! Fingers crossed, and I would love some Geraskier or OFMD, whichever you want. Thank you for doing this!

HURRAH, good job 🎉 lets get those bastards GONE

I've gone for a character/thematic mash-up for this one. Let's see if it works. Added this one under a cut because it's a little longer!

------

Jaskier stared at the book in his hand. The pages danced in the fast, salt-spray wind coming from the ocean as his ship ploughed through the rough seas. Droplets landed on the fine paper, smudging the inky name scrawled in a child’s hand.

Julian Alfred Pankratz, Viscount de Lettenhove.

He’d been so proud of it, back then.

With a sigh, he let the book drop into the turbulent waters below. He did not stop to watch it sink.

“Any progress?” he dropped down onto the lower deck, his pristine shoes clicking against the polished wood.

Priscilla, his first mate and dearest friend, gave him one of her Looks. “Slow,” she said. “But we are gaining on them. In fact—” she handed him the spyglass she had been looking through. “They look as if they’ve stopped. Thoughts?”

Jaskier took the glass and held it to his eye. The ship they’d been following - slightly smaller than The Lark with grubby-looking sails - had indeed appeared to have stopped and let down anchor.

“Perhaps they want to parlay,” Jaskier said, folding the spyglass with a decisive click.

“Perhaps.”

He strode up to the bow to get a better look. As he watched, the Lark finally catching up, he noticed a dark shape being run up the flagpole.

The flag was black, jet black. In the centre was a white wolf’s head, jaws open in a snarl.

Ah. Shit.

—

“And you are, what?” the short-haired man glared down at him. “A merchant? A jumped up little prince?”

Jaskier struggled against the ropes binding his wrists.

“Actually,” he spat, with as much venom as he could muster. “I am a pirate. Maybe you’ve heard of me: I am the Bard.”

The man burst out laughing. “And I’m a fucking siren,” he said. “Come on. Captain wants a word.”

He hauled Jaskier to his feet and shoved him forwards. 

“Wait—”

“What is it, little prince?”

“I will speak to your captain. But if you harm my crew—”

“You’ll what, sing us to death? Kick me to bits with your pointy little shoes?”

“Don’t fucking tempt me.”

The man laughed again, then pushed Jaskier towards the cabin nestled at the front of the ship.

“See if you can impress the Wolf with that clever tongue of yours, Bard,” he snorted. “You’ll need it.”

With a final shove, Jaskier fell through the open door. It slammed behind him.

“Perhaps we can make a bargain.”

He spoke before the captain - before the Wolf - could, hoping to distract him, hoping to gain the upper hand. Yes, he was bound, but that didn’t mean he was defeated. Not yet.

“A bargain?”

The voice from the shadows at the far side of the cabin was low and dark.

“Yes,” Jaskier said. “We are alike, you and I. Both pirates, both doing what we must to—”

The man snorted. “You are no pirate.”

“I think you’ll find—”

The man stepped into the light, and Jaskier’s words died in his throat. He was sure he’d been about to make a witty retort, but it had sunk and vanished.

The Wolf was the most singularly striking man he had ever seen. Long, white hair framed a chiselled face, a strong jaw, a firm brow. There was a scar across his eye, a wound long-since healed. And what eyes. In this light, Jaskier could almost swear they were yellow.

He remembered the other pirate’s words: see if you can impress the Wolf with that clever tongue.

Something hot and tight squeezed in Jaskier’s stomach. He took a step forward.

“Surely…” he took another step. All that lay between them was the captain’s table, strewn with papers. “...there must be something you want from me.”

[buffskierights]

aw, you guys want to read it? well that's really sweet here's the link right here:

the moon bleeds red (for those who fear the dead)

[thedemonofcat]

Pirate Au:

Jumping off a boat into the middle of the ocean to avoid being forced into Marriage was not what Jaskier had originally planned at the start of the day.

Neither was being picked up by a ship full of Pirates known as the crew of Kear Morhen.

But the pirate captain Geralt is rather good-looking.

Right now, Jaskier sure does plan to end his day in Geralt’s bed

[islenthatur]

I'm sorry but this is PIRATE!JASKIER like blackbeard but jaskier and now all I can see is OFMD version of jask and Geralt

Concept:

Jaskier the Soft Witcher 🌸

I’d let him slay my monsters ⚔️💦

[d-andilion]

sing me a tragedy

(geraskier, E, canon compliant, blood origin spoilers, getting together, angst with a happy ending, vague and handwavy smut, it barely counts tbh, 2.6k)

read on ao3

Hidden in the underground, far from the beaten path, Geralt watches his bard whip a crowd of humanity’s most despised into a beer-fueled frenzy. Not to earn their supper or their lodgings this time; the elf who owns this worn but well-loved waystation refused to accept coin for either after what the Sandpiper did for her grandson, seeing the boy on a ship to her arms. Right now, Jaskier plays because their fellow patrons chanted his name until he obliged. 

Geralt has to admit that Jaskier has more than proven himself as a travel companion these past few weeks. Since leaving the safety of Kaer Morhen, Ciri in Yennefer’s care for the season, finding places to keep their heads low has been a challenge. A challenge, at least, among humans. The Sandpiper, however, has won great favor with elves, dwarves, halflings, and just about every other intelligent species on the Continent. In their carefully concealed taverns and speakeasies, Jaskier is received like royalty.

“Sing loud and proud

The Song of the Seven

Be you halfling or gnome,

Or Dwarven or Elven”

This song is a new one. In fairness, most of Jaskier’s tunes are new to Geralt these days. Jaskier hasn’t abandoned his older repertoire, but he avoids large swathes of it to ward off any unwelcome attention. This one, though, feels different than the other additions to Jaskier’s catalog since their parting. More heroics than heartbreak, and a fiery call to action that sets it apart from his typical drama and sensation.

So much about Jaskier is different than Geralt remembers, his songs being the least of it. A few years is nothing in the grand scheme of their history, even less compared to all the years Geralt has lived, but it feels as though decades have slipped between his fingers. So many things have changed, things that Geralt didn’t realize he’d come to see as fixtures in his world until they disappeared, some of them forever. 

There’s the lute, for one thing. Jaskier has been cagey about how exactly a brand new elven lute came to be in his possession after the first one was destroyed against the side of his head, but it plays as beautifully for him as Filavandrel’s ever did. It’s nearly identical in style, too, with dark wood and golden patterns etched into it. Anyone who didn’t spend half a lifetime watching Jaskier’s long fingers dance along the strings would never be able to tell that this lute’s pattern of markings is different from its predecessor’s.

There’s the outfit, too. The waistcoat is similar enough to patterns and styles that Jaskier has worn before, but the hat and jacket make him look like a third-rate imitation of a storybook pirate. It’s nothing at all like the bright-colored matching ensembles he used to wear, though it’s nearly as impractical if not more so. Geralt honestly can’t tell if he hates it because it’s ridiculous or because it doesn’t fit into the gallery of bold greens and soft blues and glaring reds that roll through his mind when he thinks of his bard.

And there’s the bard himself, of course. Not really Geralt’s anymore if he ever was. He’s still loud and dramatic and filled to the brim with useless romantic notions about what the world is or ought to be. But there’s something lurking underneath it all now, something harder and fiercer behind his eyes than anything Geralt has seen in him before. The harshness of a man who’s seen the senseless death and darkness of war. The bitterness of one who’s been left behind and expects to be again.

There’s none of that in him when he performs, though. Or else he hides it far more efficiently. Even to Geralt’s honed eye, Jaskier exudes only joy when he sings.

“No oppressor can hide them

Carry their glories and rise!”

Jaskier finishes with a roaring flourish and the crowd chants his words back to him twice as loud. This Song of the Seven may be more popular than Toss a coin ever was. Geralt has never seen an audience warm so quickly to a new tune, much less poor folk in a war-torn country. These people need hope now more than anything.

The barkeep pushes a pair of ales at Jaskier as he passes by and refuses to take a cent for them despite Jaskier’s best efforts. He finally gives up when she threatens him with a broom, turning to Geralt’s dark corner of the room. 

“That’s new,” says Geralt as Jaskier sits down, passing a stein to his side of the table.

Jaskier crooks an eyebrow at him and smirks. “I’m surprised you noticed.”

Geralt doesn’t know what to say to that. Before, he might not have thought twice about teasing so light as that, but this, too, has changed. Sometimes there’s banter and sometimes there are digs from that snarl of discontent that still rears up between them, and Geralt can never really be sure which he’s getting.

Jaskier takes pity on him, smiling easily. “It came from a story I heard in Temeria,” he says. “There’s a bard in it, you know. And a witcher.”

He looks for a moment like he means to say more, but then the corner of his mouth twists sharply and he snaps it shut with an audible click. Jaskier smiles again, this time cruel and close-lipped. 

“It doesn’t matter,” he says.

Before Geralt can think of anything to say, any comfort or correction to whatever it is he’s done wrong this time, Jaskier stands up and flees to a nearby table of dwarves. He doesn’t look back.

An hour or so later, the revelry dies down and the bar room clears out but for a few stragglers. Jaskier is among them, across the room now from Geralt at an empty table with a drink Geralt knows is almost completely full. Geralt watched the bard carefully while he made round after round of the room, soaking up the occupants’ stories and sharing his own entirely fabricated ones. Half a dozen rounds were shoved into Jaskier’s hands, and he took them gratefully with bright smiles, but he abandoned them just as quickly when their givers were occupied.

When Geralt found Jaskier in Oxenfurt, he couldn’t be parted from a bottle for his life. Now his drinking comes and goes. Some days he dulls his senses with wine from dusk till dawn. Some days are like this: feigning all the trappings of a man in his cups without downing more than a mouthful. 

Geralt leaves his own stein half-full with a few coins beside it and turns for Jaskier’s table. Another Geralt might have left his friend to sulk, but that Geralt wouldn’t have used the word ‘friend’ to describe Jaskier, not even in his head. This one is trying to make amends, still, all these many months later. 

If Jaskier hears him coming, he doesn’t show it. Geralt sits on the bench beside him, facing out towards the room with his back against the table, and Jaskier doesn’t give him so much as a glance. Their shoulders just barely brush.

“Tell me your story,” says Geralt. “About the bard and the witcher.”

Jaskier fixes him with a confused frown. “It doesn’t—”

“Tell me anyway.”

Geralt watches Jaskier watch him through a long, pregnant pause. Blue eyes, still so bright in the low light, search Geralt’s face and he can’t tell whether they find what they’re looking for or not. Either way, Jaskier huffs a humorless laugh to himself and speaks.

“It was a long time ago, just before the Conjunction.”

Jaskier pauses again like he’s waiting for Geralt to correct him. There were no witchers before the Conjunction; there was no need for them. Geralt doesn’t say so, though. Instead, he waits patiently for Jaskier to continue.

“The witcher was a warrior,” he says. “A protector, wrongfully exiled for defiling a princess.”

Jaskier eyes Geralt again, warier this time. Geralt feels that twist in his gut the way he always does, but he doesn’t interrupt.

“The bard was a runaway, fleeing a life that was chosen for her.” Jaskier grins at that, small and wistful. “Fate brought them together, but they chose to walk side by side.”

It’s not a pretty story, exactly, but it’s the kind of story that has always caught Jaskier’s attention. A ragtag group of heroes, an indomitable foe, magic, monsters, and romance to tie it all together. It might even be true for all Geralt knows. The way Jaskier tells it, his voice soft and his phrases unembellished, so unlike his usual way of weaving tales, makes the whole thing almost believable. They’ve all seen stranger things.

Geralt doesn’t miss the shift in the air around Jaskier when he talks about the Lark and her witcher. His heart beats just the slightest bit faster and his scent deepens imperceptibly to anyone who doesn’t know it better than their own. Geralt isn’t blind to his own reaction either, the heaviness in his chest that grows and grows.

Contrary to popular belief, Geralt isn’t stupid. It’s not that he doesn’t know how much he wants Jaskier. The depths of that desire plunge too deep to go unnoticed, and it has holed up inside him for so long, he doesn’t know who he would be without it. It’s not that he doesn’t know how Jaskier feels either. The bard isn’t subtle and he has never insulted either of their intelligence by pretending to be.

What Geralt doesn’t know has never been the problem. It’s what he does know. And what he knows, has always known, is that acting on his wants would be a singularly terrible idea.

But that was before. Before Geralt’s own Child Surprise foretold the end of the world and all of them with it. Before he landed with his own feet in another sphere of demons and monsters beyond his wildest imaginings. Before all of them wound up tangled in a war with nightmares, more terrifying than any foolish mistake, hidden around every corner.

Before Geralt knew what it felt like to lose Jaskier. And before he knew with crushing certainty that to have done so without ever knowing what it felt like to have Jaskier, really have him, is worse than any fear Geralt has ever felt.

“She killed him, in the end, to end his suffering,” says Jaskier softly.

“Not a very happy story,” Geralt replies.

“Some of the best stories are tragedies. It’s romantic.”

Geralt frowns. “But he dies at the end.”

Jaskier smiles miserably. “I think you and I both know that love doesn’t always have a happy ending.”

That plucks something sharp in Geralt’s chest, something that twists at the bitter shadow in Jaskier’s eyes. Fuck it, Geralt thinks, fuck all of it. He takes Jaskier's chin between his thumb and his forefinger and kisses him before good sense can frighten either of them away again. 

There’s a gut-wrenching fraction of a second where Jaskier’s mouth is still against Geralt’s, but within the same heartbeat, he’s kissing back and back and back. Jaskier’s hand curls around Geralt’s wrist, holding himself in place as if Geralt would ever let him go now. His lips part for Geralt’s tongue with a soft groan and he tastes like his last sip of ale. Geralt feels drunk on it, on Jaskier, the plush warmth of his mouth, and the scent of his growing arousal filling Geralt’s nose. 

The harsh scrape of chair legs on a wooden floor startles them apart. Geralt’s head snaps up to find the barkeep straightening her stools, eyes focused downward but a knowing grin on her lips.

When he turns back, Jaskier hasn’t pulled away but his uneasy expression says that the thought is playing on his mind. He looks at Geralt like he’s waiting to be pushed away, even as he clutches Geralt’s wrist. Geralt pulls Jaskier back to him, fingers still cradling the bard’s chin, until their noses brush. 

“What are you doing?” Jaskier asks and his hot breath rolls over Geralt’s lips carrying the taste of his mouth to Geralt’s tongue, and even that faint echo makes Geralt’s heart stutter.

“Kicking off another tragedy, I expect.”

Jaskier pushes their foreheads together. “You can still stop this one.”

“No,” says Geralt and it feels like surrender. “No, I can’t.”

The small hearth in their room is dark and cold when they stumble inside. Geralt can see well enough to guide them both, but he tears himself away from Jaskier’s hungry kisses to light the fire. When it’s finally ablaze and he turns to find the bard sprawled out on their bed, discarding the last of his clothing, Geralt is glad he took the time. 

Even if only in the dim red light, cast over with long and flickering shadows, he wants to see this.

This—miles of bare skin, calloused and scarred in places it wasn’t when last Geralt laid eyes on it, and quivering as he presses his lips to every place he should have been there to protect. Jaskier is so warm to touch, so much warmer than Geralt, his emphatically human heart hammering away in his chest for both of them.

This—achingly familiar hands with long fingers and soft palms, gliding over the shine of sweat on Geralt’s chest and his arms and his back. Jaskier is so gentle with his touches, as though Geralt could break beneath them, as though Jaskier would ever break him even if he could. But then Geralt touches just so and nails bite into his skin and he longs to see their matching bruises side by side. 

This—a hungry mouth that kisses wherever it can and urges Geralt to give, to take. Every graze of his fingers, his lips, his tongue, draws the sweetest sounds. Jaskier is so liberal with his voice, utterly without shame as he tells Geralt exactly what he needs and how good he feels, as he begs him to touch me darling, there, again, more, more, please, please, please…

Every sense, every synapse, every nerve is straining to capture this moment because if their world ends tomorrow, Geralt wants his last memory to be the way Jaskier clings to him, sings to him, as he pushes inside.

Each second stretches into a thousand and disappears in an instant all at once. An eternity is lived in the space between each of Jaskier’s gorgeous moans and breathless cries, but too soon, Geralt feels himself hurtling over the edge. He comes with Jaskier’s name on his lips and the hot burn of tears behind his eyes.

They lie there, silent but for their breath, while their sweat dries and the fire burns to embers. Geralt fits himself to Jaskier’s back, a knee between his, an arm circling his waist, and his face tucked into the crook of Jaskier’s neck. The bard reaches back to tangle his fingers in Geralt’s hair and begins to hum an unfamiliar tune.

“That’s new,” Geralt rumbles, muffled by Jaskier’s skin.

Jaskier hums in agreement. “I think it’s about a bard and a witcher.”

Geralt takes a few long, slow breaths before he replies. “Another tragedy?”

Jaskier presses the tips of his fingers against Geralt’s scalp and massages along the back of his head until he finds a spot he discovered years ago while scrubbing drowner brains from Geralt’s hair, the one that elicits a sound very near purring. Geralt no longer expects an answer, but he gets one after his eyes have long fallen shut, whispered into the gathering darkness.

“Not this time.”

~~

my masterlist

[thetardigrape]

Tagged by @ghostalservice to share my favorite fics I've written. A truly lovely tag game!

I've written a lot, most of it OFMD, so I'll try to keep it brief while also covering a few fandoms. I love almost everything I've written so this will be a challenge!

OFMD

Made of Gold (Modern AU Lupete, 16.6k, E) Listing this first because I truly think it's my fave fic I've written ever. Pete is a tow truck driver and Lucius's car breaks down in his tiny New Mexico town. It's very cozy and sweet despite having a major theme of poverty. I meant to write a sequel but didn't quite manage it. 😅

What Kind of Pirate Has a Friend? (canonverse Jack/Ed, 30.8k, E) The first chapter fic I actually set out to write as a chapter fic. It explores Jack and Ed as teenagers and the friendship that developed between them.

Beasts (canonverse Sprizzy, 6.8k, E) I wanted to try a specific narrative voice, and I feel like I achieved it. Extremely kinky, first in a series.

Ace of Hearts (canonverse Gentlebeard, 27.7k total, E) My ace Stede series. Comments on this series still break my heart. I never expected to have such an effect on people.

Pirate Ships (SMAU Sprizzy, 2.4k, M) Written entirely in skins of Tumblr and Discord. I learned CSS for this. It's so silly.

In Service to the Crown (canonverse Hornberry/Shaw, 25.2k, E) Started as crackfic, took on a life of its own. I'm still the only author in this tag. These are basically OCs at this point.

Good Omens

Your Smile in Mine (modern human AU ineffable husbands, 64.4k, E) The longest thing I've ever written. It's given me the confidence to write an original novel. Crowley and Az are teachers at a boarding school.

Physiology Lessons (canonverse ineffable husbands, 12.2k, E) A fun series that explores the idea that Crowley and Aziraphale have never had sex but they have experimented with mutual masturbation.

The Witcher

It Will Not Be Because of Me (canonverse Geraskier, 9.1k, E) I don't really know what it is about this fic, but I come back to it over and over. Angsty ending that I took some steps to fix in a sequel.

When That Time Comes (canonverse Geraskier, 4.1k, E) Made myself cry writing this fic about Geralt trading in Roach for a new horse when she gets old. Would probably still cry if I reread it.

Staged

Yes, And (rpf David/Michael, 18.2k, E) Cannot believe I'm putting rpf on this list. But truly, I had a lot of fun with this one. I meant to end it on the angsty first chapter but luckily for my readers a second chapter fell into my head, so it has a happy ending.

And that's the list! It's long, but I've written 87 fics and over 850k words, so it's a bit hard to narrow it down!

Tagging @chocolatepot, @veeagainsttheday, @mirilyawrites, @mia-ugly, and anyone else who wants to play!

[ephhemeralite]

writing pattern tag game!

post the first line of your last ten posted fics and see if there's a pattern! thanks for the tag, @ful-crum !!!!!

not quite sure how i got here, real glad i've got more than ten fics posted (if only barely), excited to see how it goes

"Aziraphale bustles back into his shop with all of the energy of a raccoon holding a goodie they never expected to stumble across." – no skin like the skin you woke up in (gomens canon divergence au)

"Ed has spent the vast majority of his life as a pirate. Get as old and experienced as he’s gotten – far older and more experienced than he ever expected, mind you – and you form some opinions, about salt and the sea and the way of things." – and i feel so proud when the reckoning arrives (this is two lines so it's cheating but whatever 💚. very dumb black sails/our flag means death crossover)

"The first time Dick notices himself call for Batgirl and the wrong sibling respond, he doesn't think much of it." – no difference between the past and the ground (dick grayson thinks he's going crazy until he realizes [REDACTED])

"Tommy thinks that finding himself stuck through the Blood God’s sword – stuck through – should come as more of a shock to him than it does." – this is mostly what happens in dallas (au of my dsmp hero/villain major character death series where the major character death doesn't happen but it's still not great! hence the wtnv if he had lived title)

"Wilbur drops onto the couch with a groan and some sort of weird, histrion-type flail." – a gaze blank and pitiless as the sun (dsmp hero/villain au, companion piece to the actual mcd, probably my best piece of posted writing)

"He isn't looking for trouble today, but he isn't surprised when the blade of a sword finds him regardless." – the truth is like a sickle (it'll cut you to the middle) (dsmp hero/villain au with the mcd)

"The flickering lights of the tavern seem soft, in the late hours of the night." – drunk in a field (on dandelion wine) (unfinished 5+1 from a folk witch!jaskier universe that i got super super attached to but eventually let go of because my life kept getting more insane and the concept more intricate)

"Peter had spent a lot of time trying to psychoanalyze Neal Caffrey before his capture." – acquainted with the saint of never getting it right (white collar/batfam crossover, dick grayson is neal caffrey, my most popular fic by a chunk)

"Geralt can already tell that Jaskier plans on dragging them both out tonight, probably with quilt, to force him into a night of 'stargazing and communing with nature like we used to!'" – it could feel like an end (to have to keep going) (immortal/modern times geraskier au fic i haven't read since i wrote and posted it in a day. i think it's contemplations on mortality, helplessness, and the climate crisis?)

"Briefly, he contemplates sitting up on the couch to give himself better lung capacity for his incoming tirade, but figures that he may as well put his vigilante training to good use, and continues to lay back." – more like me (less like you) (technically the second line of an emotional conversation between dick and jason, but the first line was dialogue and it is too early for me to mess with quotation marks like that)

so, full disclaimer that i don't post a ton (no skin was last updated in august of last year and more like me was posted in july of 2021) so a lot of this writing is kind of old, but! i did notice that i've tended to open in media res, but recently i have been incorporating more exposition. i've never tried to make my first lines great hooks — i'm honestly more concerned with giving myself a good jumping-off point than anything else. it also struck me how many fandoms i've written for that i no longer engage with, basically at all. maybe i've just been really focused lately, but i don't think a few of these fandoms would hold my attention anymore! ironically, i'm talking about the more recent fandoms like dsmp/gomens/ofmd and not the older stuff like the batfam or the witcher.

this was really fun, i loved looking back through my work like this!! thank you again ful-crum for tagging me :)! i'm gonna tag @doingthewritethings, @b10000p, and @alavenderleaf !!!!!!

[carrottheluvmachine]

Guys, I HIGHLY recommend reading this.  It has me convinced that my girlfriend is actually a pirate.  I have no idea how she wrote such a believable fic and how she knows so much about pirates without being one.

Anyway, everyone is perfectly in character, the plot is so deliciously twisty, there’s pain and there’s longing and there’s an amazing smut chapter.  This fic will get you really feeling for Geralt and Jaskier and everyone in between!  I was hooked right from the start!

Please please please give it a shot if you’ve the time!  @dont-tempt-me-frodo​ really deserves it!

The Lesser Evil (a Witcher Pirate!AU)

Read it here

1674 and piracy is rife throughout the Caribbean. Plenty of work for a Pirate Hunter such as Geralt. But when he takes a contract to hunt down a pirate captain who is interfering with important trade, a harsh truth arrises that will question his morals and he will be forced to choose between two evils, and risk the one thing he never thought he would find. Love.

Extract from Chapter 10: The Cargo

The Lark was anchored among the pocket of small islands just off the coast of Tortuga. The sea lapped gently at her hull and the wind whistled through the rocks, rocking her slightly from side to side.

The crew were poised and ready to hoist the anchor and let out the sails the moment the order came. The cannons had been readied, the grapples laid out in preparation for boarding.

Havi perched in the crow’s nest, telescope pointed at the eastern horizon. Renfri was half-way up the rigging of the fore mast with her own spyglass pressed to her eye. Jaskier was behind the helm.

There was a calm focus to the Captain. A stillness and a silence that put the whole crew at ease, even in the face of what they were about to do.

Geralt could feel the crackle of excitement in the air.

He was crouched next to Duny, checking and double checking the security of the knots at the base of the main mast.

They had been in this position for a few hours now. Just waiting.

The blazing sun glinted off the surface of the water making the already bright day almost too painful to even look at. Sweat was building on Geralt’s brow, trickling down his back, soaking into his shirt. It was stiflingly hot, and he couldn’t wait to get out onto the open sea so that the wind could properly move around them.

After what felt like days, Havi finally stirred in the crow’s nest.

“Sails!” came his deep bellow.

A jolt shot through the crew, each one of them pre-empting the orders that hadn’t come yet.

“Renfri?” Jaskier called to her.

“Clipper,” she shouted back, “Flying no colours. It’s them.”

“Haul anchor, full sail,” Jaskier yelled.

The crew lurched into action. The canvas sails flapped as they were released then bulged as they filled with the wind. At the same time the anchor was cranked up and The Lark surged forwards with the push of the wind. The black flag at the top of the main mast whipped back and forth.

The brig cut through the water at a startling speed and it wasn’t long before Geralt could see the merchant ship on the horizon.

Renfri had hopped down from the rigging and was barking orders as she made her way to join Jaskier on the quarter deck.

Geralt held tightly to the side of the ship. Never before had he actually taken part in an act of piracy like this and the rush he felt lit a fire in his gut. Boarding and looting a ship then moving on the cargo. He was going to experience it first-hand and gain invaluable information about the interference in trade that Jaskier was responsible for.

[solarphase1]

Geraskier as pirates or something

“Ship ahead, Captain!” The call came from the first mate, seeming to have made its way ear-to-ear from the crow’s nest.

“Ahh, splendid~ Seems our new found, foul-lipped little friend gets an answer in rather auspicious timing and now - while I am a most ambitious planner of grandiose-” the incessant silken voice simply would not stop as the lithe man sauntered about the bow, coming to a poised halt grinning over the rails  - “even I could not have planned it better.”

Even as he spoke, some sort of knowing came over the crew. All but the two holding Geralt began shuffling about, a handful of men fetching glass jars from somewhere on the ship and others taking the malleable salve within up and into their ears. 

The hands restraining the man to his knees exchanged without ever presenting an opportunity for easy escape as his two previous captors took their lot of the wax, as up closer he could tell it was wax indeed. 

A humorless chuckle, “Sirens?” He peered up at the captain through white strands, “There are no sirens in these waters, that’s common knowledge to every ship and crew. It seems your reputation has oversold you.” 

The man at the helm grinned through his response, readying a lute in his hands. “Perhaps, Geralt of Rivia, those crews should know better.”

[lilolilyr]

♡ pls reblog my fic posts ♡

This is my new fandom masterlist!

In alphabetical order, everything I write for:

Gen F/F F/M M/M

• Dracula

• Goncharov (Katfia)

•••• Good Omens (ineffable spouses)

• Gunpowder Milkshake, (Floreleine, ScarletMay, Librarywives ot3, Killercule) also on @floreleine

• Hacks HBO (Avorah)

• Hawaii 5-0 (McDanno)

• Holby City (Berena)

• Humans are Weird // Humans are Space Orcs

• James Bond (00Q)

••• Leverage

•• Lie to Me (Callian, Zoe/Gillian)

• Lord of the Rings // The Hobbit

• MCU (mainly ClintCoulson, Stucky)

•• Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries (MacPhrack)

• Ocean's 8 (HeistWives aka Loubbie)

• Pirates of the Caribbean

• Pitch Perfect (Becommissar)

•• Sherlock (Johnlock, Shirene aka Adlock)

••• Star Trek

• ST Discovery (Milippa -prime, -mirror, -poly, -kat)

• ST DS9 (Kiradax, Kahndax, Kiradaxkahn)

• ST Picard (Saffi)

•• ST TOS (Spirk)

••• ST Voyager (J7, Chakotey/Tuvok)

•• Star Wars

• The Devil Wears Prada (Mirandy)

• The Hunger Games

• The Old Guard (Andromaquynh, Andronilynh)

• The Witcher (mostly Geraskier)

• Venom

• Warehouse 13 (Bering and Wells), also on @hgwellsmykabering

& more :)

A bunch of my fics are unfinished and Up for Adoption!

I don't just write but also make podfics, art, manips, moodboards and memes sometimes :D

If you want to be put on any of my fandom tag lists to be notified when I post something, let me know!

I'm always taking prompts, though much more likely to write for people who also support me by reblogging stuff and/or commenting on Ao3 of course ;) the ones in bold are my active fandoms that I'm mainly taking prompts for! You can also send other ideas though :)

I'm open to transformative works - podfic, fanart, continuations, AUs etc of my works - just click 'inspired by' on Ao3 / link to my work on tumblr!

My favs • Ask me things! • behind the scenes • discord • Ao3