#the white wolf ( c. geralt )

[tielmamon]

"The White wolf himself! It's an honor to finally meet the man Jaskier never shuts up about." Radovid gracefully presents his hand for the witcher to kiss. Geralt does not. Instead, he stares at the prince with an eerily blank expression and takes a step forward. Then another. Then another. Until Radovid feels the rough, painfully jagged texture of the cave wall against his back. He looks at the witcher, now looming before him in the shadows. Bright yellow eyes- those of a predator pierces through the darkness like a knife and stab through his chest like a cold chill.

"I'm sure you are well aware of my...fondness for Jaskier. We've travelled together for almost 25 years now. He is, in his own ridiculous words my very best friend in the whole wide world."

Radovid chuckles, which seems to be the wrong response because Geralt's eye twitches and the hand near Radovid's side curls into a fist so tight he hears the leather of the man's glove whine.

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Now, with that I must lay down a few things for you to remember, your highness. Lest you overstep and find yourself upsetting my bard." Radovid swallows, blood running ice cold.

"If I ever catch wind of you mistreating, manipulating, or abusing Jaskier in anyway, a few things will happen to you."

"First, I will find you, wherever you are on this continent and I will kill you. It will be a very sudden, painful and very violently death. A coach suddenly pushed off a cliff, an unexpected kikimora loose in the castle, poison in your morning tea that feels like acid down your throat. I don't know, haven't really decided yet."

"Then after that, I will watch as your spirit becomes vengeful and restless, transforming into a wraith- a monster born out of gruesome, untimely deaths. Then I kill you again, for the second time. This time not by my blade, but by my fire. I will burn you, and watch as your spirit, your very soul wails in agony, turning to ash at the sight of your charred, desecrated bones." Geralt leans in close, stopping just shy of the pale prince's hear and whispers.

"And that's not even mentioning what unspeakable horrors my daughter and her mother are sure to do to you beforehand." Radovid shakes under the cold intensity of Geralt's gaze. They both hear the bard in question singing just an earshot away from where they stood. Radovid flinches so hard that his back is scratched by a particularly sharp rock. Geralt, on the other hand mearly turns to the sound, smiling softly for a moment before facing the prince once again.

"Have I made myself clear, your highness?" His smile never leaving his face, Geralt bares his teeth to show the sharp canines that look more lion than wolf.

"C-Crystal." Radovid stutters.

"Geralt? Have you seen- Oh! There you are, dear."

"Hmmm" In a blink of an eye, the witcher is a considerable distance away from the terrified prince. Already walking toward the bard, Geralt claps a hand on his shoulder as he passes him to reach Roach. Radovid watches Jaskier lean against the friendly touch, beaming.

"How are my two favorite men in the world? Getting along well, I hope?"

"Oh, we get along just fine. Don't we, your highness?" He looks at him now with casual disinterest, but there was a glint in the man's eye. It sends a shiver up the prince's spine and he all too suddenly remembers the moniker the man used to have before Jaskier came along.

"Absolutely. "

[caffieneaddictt18]

My Witcher

"Geralt of Rivia! The Witcher known as the White Wolf! After discussion, we, the people of Snorzinbrog, have sentenced you to death by decapitation for the charges that have been put against you: assault, murder, and desecration of our goddess' altar! What do you have to say to this?!" The leader of the town read from a scroll to Geralt. The entire town was behind Geralt, watching this all happen. They held torches and pitchforks, but not necessarily doing anything with them. They are just standing there.

Geralt rolls his eyes and grunts, "Please just get it over with."

"As you wish!" The leader waves his hand towards the executioner. The man forces Geralt to his knees and his head to rest against a piece of wood. Geralt wiggles around to get more stability.

The executioner raises his axe as the entire town watches in awe. Geralt starts praying, and the leader of Snorzinbrog looks at Geralt funny.

"You had your chance for final words, Witcher! In the name of the goddess, _____, kill him!" The executioner swings his axe at the command of the ealdorman. The silver in the polished glass glints in the light of sunset and twilight.

Right before the axe hits, it disappears and is instead changed into moths. They flod the executioner and ealdorman, who fail in trying to bat them away from their face. The moths disperse after a few seconds, allowing Geralt to sit back from leaning forward, legs tucked under him.

"WHO DARES TO HARM MY WITCHER?" A terrifying tall woman rises from the water beyond the cliffside where they executed and disposed of bodies. You have a halo of a storm that wasn't there a second ago. Ocean water clashes with stone and splashes everyone. You are surrounded by a holy light, a foreboding light. One that sends fear down your enemies' spines and anxiety crawling up their throats. You glare sends the men to their knees.

They may kill people they deem by their rules to have done wrong, but not this one. This one is yours.

"M-MY LADY!” The man shouts, falling to his knees. His wonderful goddess, the goddess he worships, is here before him. He has done everything right. So why have you called the White Wolf 'your Witcher'? Does this heathen also worship you? No. Geralt's in love with you and you have fallen just as hard.

“NO. YOU HAVE COMMITTED A TRANSGRESSION AGAINST ME. LEAVE, WHILE YOU CAN. TAKE CARE OF YOUR WOMEN AND CHILDREN. THERE WILL BE HELL TO PAY, SHOULD YOU NOT CONTINUE TO ABIDE BY MY LAWS.” Your voice bellows, flowing from the cliffside to the village that resides just a mile away. A lightning strike hits next to the ealdorman, a warning.

“YES-YES, YOUR HOLINESS!”

As his head hits the soil as he bows to you, you turn into your human form. A beautiful woman with lovely (H/C) hair and gorgeous (E/C) eyes. The most stunning person Geralt has laid eyes on. Geralt stands as you walk to him, wind whipping your hair, looking as though you belong with the grey clouds that threaten to darken. The ocean bows to you as your worshippers do. The storm churns at your request, and Geralt now registers how close you are with your hand cradling his face. Your eyes look him over worriedly, finding no injuries but still concerned.

“You’re as beautiful as the day I met you.” Geralt caresses your face as you free him of his chains with a wave of your hands. They clatter to the ground, clinging against each other at the release of their tension. The blood in your face gets hot as you lean into his touch.

“Let’s go, my darling,” You whisper as you whisk him away to a place of safety and love. Your home.

Your home on a cliff overlooking the torrential ocean and churning clouds, just barely hidden by a layer of forestry. Geralt looks out on the scenery and holds you tightly.

“You won’t ever lose me. You are the words to my sword. What cannot be done by one can be done by the other.” He closes his eyes and leans his forehead against your own.

“I almost lost you. If you hadn’t prayed to me when you did… if they hadn’t made a sacrifice, I never would have put two and two together… I can’t lose you. The world would burn. I’m supposed to keep the peace.” A deep breath rolls through you, loosening your tense back muscles. The surrounding nature calms as you do and the storm dies down. You can faintly hear a crying of praise at your good will for blessing the masses with good weather. It’s as if the world was whispering its adoration and thanks just for your kindness. You know that if it wasn’t for Geralt, these people thanking you wouldn’t be thanking you. They would be cursing you for ruining their laundry.

“What has happened, has happened. What matters now is that everything is done. Let’s be home, love.” Geralt leads you into the cabin where you and your lover revel in each other all night long and possibly even into the morning.

Author’s Cup of Tea:

I apologize for the short chapter. I was busy, but still wanted to produce something. If it’s good, let me know! If it’s bad, also let me know! *Takes out a penny and casts Detect Thoughts* Penny for your thoughts? Au revoir!

Edit: I understand that I changed quite a and did plenty of editing, but I hope it is still good, and possibly better. Until next time, lovelies!

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Hi! How are you doing? c:

Honestly? I am thinking about the dirty, filthy things that I want Dark!Geralt to do to me Reader in the fic I am working on...

...and this man desperately wants to use those canines. And I just...?

The White Wolf wants to bite Reader during...ahem...coitus. And I don't know if that's too animalistic or not animalistic enough???

HELP???

[catscraftsandcommentary]

@dahliavandare building on that post about various nobles taunting Jaskier to go full Insulted Bard and Geralt needing help pulling him out...

(That post was getting long, so I started a new one, shh)

Lambert hears through the witcher rumor mill (which is TOTALLY A THING, work with me, okay?) that a) Geralt is nearby with his bard b) the bard will be performing at some fancy party soon c) the bard has A Habit of making A Scene during such parties, and if anyone who knows Geralt is in the area, PLEASE HELP.

Lambert and Aiden share a look. "I really want to, but if someone doesn't kill this chort [or other horrible monster], this village is gonna get wiped out. And I'm better at them than you."

Aiden nods. "I could help your brother. Leave you our bombs and potions, anything you think you'll need, and go be a distraction at the party."

"Just don't let him stab you, or I'll have to dye his fucking hair a godsdamned rainbow this winter."

Which is how Aiden ends up sneaking into the rafters of a nobleman's ballroom just as some idiot challenges a brightly dressed bard to play a certain song.

When a white-haired witcher growls very quietly and starts looking into the shadows of the ceiling, Aiden figures he's found the right pair. So he mutters (just loudly enough for the other witcher to hear him) "Lambert says you still owe him for stealing his devourer teeth last winter" and drops down while Geralt is still getting over his surprise.

(Because how the hell does some random - Cat witcher?!? - know Lambert well enough to know about them borrowing potion ingredients from each other?)

Aiden grins at Jaskier, who has done a masterful job of not showing his surprise st having a witcher land right in front of him. "Hi! I'm your brother-in-law. Let's dance."

And he pulls the bard into a tango just as the White Wolf launches himself forward. The next several minutes are spent in a three way dance, with Geralt trying to either rescue Jaskier or strangle Aiden, Aiden working to thwart Geralt, and Jaskier demanding answers regarding the "brother-in-law" comment.

Eventually Aiden pulls Jaskier through an open window and escapes with him (carried bridal style, of course) to lead Geralt on a merry chase back to the spot where he and Lambert agreed to meet up earlier, once Lambert finished his contract.

Of course, by now Jaskier has the gist of the situation - Geralt's brother sent Aiden to help, Geralt wasn't expecting Aiden, Aiden and Geralt's brother Lambert are both very excited to meet Jaskier - and has moved on to questions about if witchers each have their own hunting styles, preferred monsters, etc.

[moonlightpirate]

That Unwanted Animal

Okay anon and @tastyfiddle here it is! Jaskier is red riding hood off to visit his grandmother who is sick in bed! Geralt is the hunter who warns him about a dangerous wolf in the woods. Can Jaskier avoid the wolf? If not can Geralt save him? Ao3 link here masterlist for other fics featuring jaskier and Joey here

"Now Jaskier, your grandmother is stuck in her cottage in the woods and is very sick. I need you to take these food items to her please." Jaskiers mother said.

"Why do I gotta do it mom? The woods are a scary place! Can't dad do it?" Jaskier groaned.

"You're going in the daylight you will be fine. Just make sure to wear your red cape and….?".

"Don't stray from the path I know." Jaskier sighed in defeat. 

"Good boy. Now off you go your grandmother is probably starving.". 

She tied the cape around his neck and handed him a basket of food before gently pushing him out the door and planting a kiss on his cheek. It was late afternoon when Jaskier reached the edge of the wood and the path to his grandmother's house. He shuddered as he heard a wolf cry. 

"Sure it's daylight, I'll be safe….. or not. Why must grandma live deep in the woods?" Jaskier sighed as he slowly made his way into the woods. 

He hadn't gotten far when a tall strong looking handsome man with hair white as snow crossed his path.

"Have you seen a wolf sir?" The man asked.

"Hello, uh no I haven't yet. Is there one here?" Jaskier stuttered.

"Well it is the woods they usually are filled with wolves. But yes this particular one has been avoiding me for some time now.So be careful with wherever it is you're going.". 

"Well um I'm going to my grandmother's house in the woods and if there is a scary wolf creature out there it would be nice to have a very strong hunter nearby!". 

"Yes, I'm sure it would be beneficial." The man said, turning away. 

Jaskier looked at the path he was supposed to be following and then looked back up at the strange man who was walking away from the path deep into the woods. The urge to follow him was strong; he seemed like he would be a safe man to follow. He sighed and continued on the path. As he walked he would occasionally sneak a few bites of food from the basket his mother had made up for his grandmother. 

"Hello handsome. What brings you so deep into these woods?" A rough male voice said. 

Jaskier looked around nervously, "who is there?". 

A tall man with short dark hair sauntered out from the woods, "Names Valdo Marx. Pleasure to meet you.". 

Jaskier gasped as he noticed the wolf's ears and the long tail. 

"You're ……you're …..you're a wolf!" Jaskier stammered backing up against a nearby tree.

Valdo let out a low growl, "It's fine I'm not dangerous I promise handsome. So what brings you into these woods?". 

"I'm really not supposed to talk to strangers so I'm just going to be on my way." Jaskier said slowly backing away from the wolf and putting his hood over his head.

"It's such a beautiful day though why waste it. Is that a lute I see on your back? Do you sing? I'm something of a singer myself. Let me hear something of yours.". 

"Normally I would but I really need to go see my grandmother because she is very ill. So maybe another time.".

"Oh the poor woman! How about you pick some flowers? I'm sure she would love them! I will guess she's in that house deep in the woods?" Valdo smirked. 

"She does like flowers, perhaps I should." Jaskier said, wandering off the path and beginning to gather flowers. 

"Excellent.", Valdo whispered to himself as he turned and strutted off into the woods, "first those crisp old bones and then something juicy and meaty. I'll be eating well today!".

****************

Geralt had been hunting this Valdo Marx wolf for weeks now. The old lady had complained about him harassing her and had hired him to kill the wolf. If she was the sick grandmother that man told him about earlier then he knew she probably wasn't safe. He slowly made his way towards her house making sure to be aware in case the wolf were to attack him. As he got closer to the cottage he noticed the door was open and could hear shouting. Quickly Geralt ran towards the cottage. The wolf had the woman and the man he met in the woods earlier backed against the wall.

"Oi wolf get away from them." Geralt shouted.

Valdo turned around with a blood thirsty look on his face and a grin that would send a shiver down any normal person's spine. Geralt grinned right back at him.

"Guess I'll be eating real good tonight. Once I'm done with you I'll finish off the old lady and that wimp." Valdo sneered.

Geralt looked up at them behind Valdo, "Get her out of here." He yelled at the strange man. 

"Oh I don't think so. You're all mine." Valdo chuckled.

Jaskier put a hand on his grandma and knew the hunter was right he needed to get his grandmother out of here and fast. But he wasn't sure how serious this Valdo was about them not leaving. He waited and watched until the hunter had distracted the wolf again before he and his grandmother made their way through the kitchen towards the other exit. 

"What's the rush?" Valdo growled, rushing in on all fours and blocking the door, "I told you that you aren't leaving."  

"And I told you that you aren't hurting anyone here." Geralt shouted storming in. 

Without a second thought Jaskier pulled his grandma under the table. He cowered afraid to even try to watch the battle happening. Out of nowhere a clawed hand reached under the table and dragged him out. Valdo was smiling down at him. Before Jaskier could even scream the hunter grabbed the wolf and stabbed him. Valdo went limp as the hunter removed the sword from his body. Jaskier helped his grandmother out from under the table before standing up and facing the hunter. 

"Oh thank you! You have saved me!" Jaskier exclaimed. 

"Thank you Geralt I knew you could get him. Anyway you can get rid of the body as well?" Grandmother said 

Geralt cocked an eyebrow and held out his hand. After receiving his payment he made his way out of the cottage with the body of Valdo Marx on his shoulder. 

"Oh wow grandma that was insane! How are you feeling?! I set food in the living room for you! Who was that man?". 

"Jaskier, I appreciate the food and everything you have done today. Tell your mother I'm feeling better and she doesn't need to send more food. Now go chase after that hunter he needs some comoany. His name is Geralt."  

"Thank you grandmother!" Jaskier gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek before he ran out the door and immediately began searching for the man. He reached the edge of the woods with no sign of him and sighed, "Oh I wish I could truly thank you sir. Perhaps a ballad of your heroic acts today will be thanks enough.".

Jaskier spent the rest of the walk home strumming on his lute trying to come up with a song fitting for his savior. 

[flowercrown-bard]

A03 2022 Wrapped 

thank you for tagging me @luteandsword!

Works Published: 71 (well, technically I think it should be 54 since all the parts of the arranged marriage au should have just been one multi-chaptered fic)

Word Count: 297,480

Hits: 104,793

Bookmarks:  1,601

Most Popular

By Kudos: Not as alone as he thought (part four of the arranged marriage au)

By Hits: A New Us Will Begin (reincarnation au)

Longest: Also “ A new us will begin” ( 134,506 words)

Shortest: C is for "Can you believe no one ever gave Geralt flowers before?"      (420 words)              

Most Comments: so technically it’s “a new us will begin” again, but all of the parts of the arranged marriage au (which i count as one story) got almost three times as many comments, so i’d say the arranged marriage au is the most popular by comments

Fic that made me cry: I don’t really cry while writing but I probably came closest to it while writing the reincarnation au? just because there’s a lot of (non-permanent) MCD so sad feelings are happening

Fic that made me smile: what kind of smile are we talking about? happy smile -  A Happy Man (old!Jaskier softness) or evil smile - “a new us will begin”

Gifts:

to someone: 

i think i gifted some parts of the arranged marriage au to @rebrandedbard

 The Greatest Gift a Griffin Could Give gifted to MaroonDragon 

Not a Griffin to @karolincki

Grumpy or Ridiculous to khalea            

Poems for the Poet to IveynAdler 

Wood you marry me?  to  @samstree

Freckles and Wrinkles  to 2jamie

Rest my Head at Night Content  to @leaena2go      

And They Danced  to @thingr2

Give it your all to @imjusthereforthecatpictures

Friend of a Friend  to @tears-of-a-fool

from someone:

No Magic like True Love  by SaiaiSaiko

[Podfic] The Song of the White Wolf (will always be sung alone) by  Mysterious_Frog 

about love. by sapphistication

What Is Love by SwanFloatieKnight

The Pain Of Loving You by SwanFloatieKnight        

A Friend in the Wild by Samtree

Events: none

Resolutions: finish my wips and not let myself get distracted. finish writing the whole thing, then actually do some major editing and only when I really feel good about it, post the fic instead of halfassing it and then feeling unsatisfied

tagging: @samstree, @swanfloatieknight @witchersgoldenbard @joeys-piano @alllthequeenshorses @leaena2go, @imjusthereforthecatpictures everyone else who wants to do this, and as alwas no pressure

[hey-that-hurt]

@ksx-22

The vast majority of what I like is fandom-based, but I can recommend some things!

The fanfic Break Him by Prince_Ash_28 is a recently completed story and one of the most intense whump fics I’ve ever read. It’s an impressive 133K words, and features the character Natsu Dragneel from Fairy Tail. It also has a satisfying recovery arc.

Kegare by Zillasafe is a MP100 fic, very intense and sad, also with an eventual recovery arc. Currently incomplete. Heads up though: the whumpee is a child.

To Light a Fire by IcyPanther: an ATLA fic where Zuko is brought back to his father, disowned, and sold into slavery. Also features a recovery arc.

The Redemption Line by BabyCharmander: Robot whump! A Portal fic where Wheatley is brought back to Aperture Science and tortured by GLaDOS.

Showtime by ElAurianBarkeep: a 16K word fic where Phoenix Wright has a very bad time. NSFWhump, so definitely close to the whumpiest a whump fic can get, but might be too much for some. Mind the tags. Also spoils some key stuff about the third game. NO RECOVERY ARC. This one is ALL hurt.

Cloak and Dagger by RoachIsJudgingYou: A Witcher (primarily TV) fic. Geralt gets captured and tortured while Jaskier works on recovering from an injury so he can go on a rescue mission. I, personally, always enjoy reading about strong, seemingly unflappable characters slowly being broken down.

White Wolf (he’s not a wolf) by Archenfane: Almost more angsty than whumpy but it’s one of few stories that’s made me at least teary-eyed so it goes on the list. Another Witcher fic where Geralt was subjected to extra mutations, is ostracized, hurt, and mocked at every turn, and has internalized this. The story focuses on uncovering the depth of his trauma and terrible self-perception, and Jaskier helping him recover.

Like Father Like Son by eternalglitch: a Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles where Leonardo is basically forced to become a villain through an ai-powered shock collar that pretty much acts like mind control without the mind control. The story is incomplete and currently in the recovery arc, but the recovery is going poorly. Extremely angsty and whumpy, basically over 100K words of extreme mental distress, pain, and hopelessness.

left my rights at the door by SimpSupreme: a DSMP fic that I really need to reread, because there’s a sequel in progress that I’m far behind on. At its core, it is an obedience curse story focused on character!Technoblade. Honestly quite similar to Like Father Like Son in terms of the themes of mental anguish and hopelessness. It’s rough.

the inner mechanism of a black box by Bee_4: more psychological whump than physical, but I would still categorize it as whump. Another DSMP c!Technoblade-centric fic, this time focused on the horror of being trapped in a prison that amounts to little more than, well, a black box.

Alien Life Form by telm_393: An easily digestible 5500 words with a recovery-focused sequel, this fic probably did a lot for getting me into whump long before I actually learned the word “whump”. A 2012 Avengers fic where Thor is captured and experimented on before the rest of the team can rescue him.

Anyway, this is just a small portion of the whump fics I have saved. Hope this helps!

Edit: @evilwriter37 also reblogged this and I second their statement that they’ve written a LOT of very intense whump.

Hello, I wanna get into whump. What's the most extreme whump fic/story you know of?

Hiya friend! I'm so glad you're dipping your toes into whump! It's such a fun thing to write/draw/what have you!

Unfortunately, I'm not that much of a reader (I'm trying to change that though!) so I can't really think of any extreme whump fic or story. I can ask my followers and the community though!

HEY FOLLOWERS AND WHUMP COMMUNITY! Any extreme whump stories you can recommend? :D

[darkfascination]

@ulfhrafnx

The sword sank up to the hilt as it slid between a partition of chitinous shell. An insectoid shriek cut through the night as the Arachas Queen flailed in the last throes of life. Geralt gritted his teeth and pulled mightily backward, withdrawing the blade amidst a spurt of gelatinous ichor.

With a reflexive roll to the right he dodged a spiked limb and gave himself space from the queen’s torment. As her movements slowed he felt a familiar chill creep into his bones. A tremor ran from his legs, up the trunk of his body, veins simultaneously on fire and freezing over. He had let the fight carry on too long and now the toxic solutions which had aided him in combat had instead become debilitating. Maybe it had been one too many, hadn’t Yen critiqued him time and again over relying too much on his concoctions?

Grunting against the pain he collapsed to one knee, fingers clenching the blade so tightly he could hear the bones creak. Suddenly he caught the scent of something beyond that of acidic insect and his own sweat. There was another—close.

Dilated pupils caught the moonlight highlighting a shadowed figure, Geralt raised his sword to shoulder height, fighting against the overwhelming desire to succumb to exhaustion.

Beneath his leather armor the Witcher felt his medallion tremble.

[anarmyofcanons]

@goddamnmuses​ // ☛ continued from ✘

❝ Word is that you enjoy one another’s lutes. You are both avid players. Pity. What a waste, ❞ she murmured looking the other over. 

[killingyouguy7]

Three of a Kind: The Fox, the Wolf and the Swallow

Source: @astoralexander (I absolutely adore your work! This is amazing!)

[thefanbasewhore]

Cold night with geralt pls 🥰🥰

summary: geralt isn't the cuddling type but being caught in a brutal blizzard brings out the softness in him.

content: fluff

paring: geralt of Rivia x female reader

Geralt masterlist (coming soon) | tag list is on navigation link!!

"You're trembling." The white haired wolf claims as he instantly sinks to his knees in front of you, concern laced into his brows. The fabric of his pants soaking instantly into the snowy ground but he doesn't seem to care as his gloved pushes your hair back from your forehead. "Come here."

The Witcher opens his fur shall, creating just enough room to wrap your arms around his torso and nuzzling your nose into the fabric of his shirt. Geralt closes the latch across your shoulders, trapping you between two very heated objects - geralt and the beautifully thick fur that Geralt had bought from a local elder woman from a job back months ago.

"It-its so c-cold," The blizzard had been ruthlessly slowing both of you and the middle of the woods was not safe to stop, this you know. With a unforgivably cold gush a wind a cold chill runs straight through you as shivers rack your being

Snow had being to mat in both his and yours hair, a thick layer of snow making booths even heavier as both you and he travel by foot because of worries that Roach wouldn't be able to handle the resistance of both snow and your body weights.

Geralt allows you a few moments to warm, eyes constantly watching the barely visible tree line. The snow falling so heavily and white that he could barely his own hand in front of his face.

"Just a few more hours, I will sent the tent up, we have some furs. It will warm you." Geralt presses a soft kiss against your hair before reaching for Roach's lead, "Come, get on Roach, a few more hours and we will be in a safe part of the forest."

***

After what seemed like an eternity, the storm had manage to die down, the snow had never stopped falling but now, you were able to see what exactly you were working towards. This didn't make a difference to you though, the cold began to crawl deep inside of your very core, numbing your fingers and toes.

Once he felt the spot was suitable and deemed safe, he hulted Roach, looked at you for one small second before setting up the tent. It wasn't much, it barely had a closed entry and the material was thin and dirty but if it wasn't for you, Geralt wouldn't have one to begin with. The Witcher had suffered way worse then cold weather.

"Come," is the only word Geralt says as he extends his arm out for you. With trembling fingers you reach forward to take his hand and he helps you down from Roach and into the tent.

The one source of light is the lantern that dimly flickers in the corner, furs scattered the ground but pile high on top of one another. Geralt helps with taking off the wet furs across your shoulders, easing it off before throwing it with little care.

"Lay down, petal."

You couldn't resist if you tried, heavy eyes prevent that. Too exhausted to function as the wolf helps you into the make shift bed and not satisfied until pulling the blanket up until your chin. You wholeheartedly expect him to leave, sit out in the cold and stay watch, mostly because he never sleeps, a few times a week you'll catch him with closed eyes but it's not more than a few hours.

He surprises you, slipping under the fur pelt and wrapping his arms snuggly around your person. The thin, white hairs tickle your chin but it is ignored - there aren't many nights Geralt will lay with you, let alone cuddle.

"You are so cold, my love." Geralt frowns, feeling the tremors of your shivering being. The nickname is reserved for moments like these and still makes your heart pound with love. Large palms move up and down your arms, trying to create so heat to your ice cold skin. "Are you getting warmer?"

With out answering you nudge your nose into his chest, taking a deep breath to smell the familiar sent of mint and ash. "I'll be okay."

Geralt frowns once again, maybe he had pushed you too far this time. Geralt often forgets the fragility of human, he presses a kiss against your hairline. "We should have stopped sooner, I apologize."

"I am okay, love." The words do very little to settle the ache in Geralt's chest. Instead he cups your cheek to bring your lips to his own.

"Go to sleep, I'll wake you in the morning. Sweet dreams, scout."

[catofadifferentcolor]

Terrible Fic Ideas #12: The Accidental Warlord, The Prequel

I absolutely adore The Accidental Warlord and His Pack series by @inexplicifics and all the fics inspired by it. Nearly all of them, though, start ten or fifteen years after Geralt has become the Warlord of the North. So naturally I wondered: what if Jaskier was there from the beginning? What if Jaskier provided some of the impetus for Geralt to become the Warlord of the North?

Just imagine it:

For some reason I imagine Jaskier and Geralt meeting while Jaskier is on break from Oxenfurt, so for the first two years or so they travel together only during the summers. It's only during their third year together when Jaskier, newly graduated, is able to travel with Geralt into the fall.

Geralt is expecting similar growing pains to their first travels together - Jaskier forgetting to pack an autumn-warmth cloak, constantly complaining about the crisp northern nights, &c. He's not expecting to spend weeks tracking an unknown monster near Ard Carraigh with a habit of abducting pretty young men and women - worrying about Jaskier every second they're apart, because he's just the right sort of pretty and trouble-prone - only to discover the King of Kaedwen's awful habits.

On the night before they're meant to part for the winter, Jaskier makes some comment ("It's a shame you can't just kill the monsters shaped like men."). This leads to a discussion about how some Witcher schools do assassinations, but "That might solve this particular problem, but there's no guarantee the person who replaces him will be much better. Not everyone has a Witcher's sense of right and wrong."

The end result of this discussion is 1) Geralt decides to take Jaskier with him to Kaer Morhen, because if he's left to make back to Oxenfurt on his own he's likely to get taken by the King of Kaedwen, and 2) he decides to ask Vesemir, ‘We kill monsters. What about the ones that are shaped like men?’

The rest goes about as described in the original with the addition of Jaskier being present for most of the becoming the Warlord of the North action. Not the battles - he's very much left behind for those, pretty much alone at first and then with servants and workers and injured Witchers as the keep is repaired and turned into a castle worthy of a conquerer - but everything else. This too largely follows the course of @inexplicifics's original.

With, of course, the addition of a whole bunch of mutual pining. Jaskier has wanted Geralt pretty much from day one, which Geralt knows but politely ignored because desire doesn't mean desiring. Geralt's felt pretty much the same since the day he realized Jaskier wasn't planning to leave, sometime shortly before the Ard Carraigh hunt that started everything off. I'm not sure how they end up getting together - sometime after all the other Witcher schools have joined the Wolves, I think, all of which experienced surprise that the man who was clearly The White Wolf's Mate by scent and behavior didn't seem to realize he was (and, stranger still, The White Wolf didn't seem to realize it either.)

Needless to say, there is much teasing, and nobody realizes when they do get together because absolutely nothing changes between them.

At some time before they get together, though, Kaer Morhen should receive tribute directed specifically at The Warlord's wife, the Lady Julia de Lettenhove in the form of lovely gowns, expensive cosmetics, and exquisite jewelry. Because naturally the gossip has spread that far out of the castle. This naturally leads to much teasing, perhaps culminating in Jaskier wearing the best of it to dinner one day (and pulling it off spectacularly).

And because I can't help myself, Jaskier is first to discover that regular sex with a Witcher keeps you young. It's a secret he manages to hoard for decades before anybody thinks to question it.

But otherwise it's largely a how the Warlord of the North became the Warlord of the North fic, interspersed with a lot of how Geralt and Jaskier got their act together, the oblivious idiots.

Bonuses include 1) a northern kingdom sending a pretty young woman to Kaer Morhen to be the Warlord's concubine à la the start of With a Conquering Air. This naturally doesn't go over well for the kingdom in question, but the young woman eventually finds her footing. 2) At least three instances of Jaskier being referred to as the Lady Julia de Lettenhove in official communication, or confused for the man the Warlord is cheating on the Lady Julia with, or the Lady Julia disguised as a man for whatever reason. And 3) Jaskier's family actually being okay with all of this. (Yes, they were a little weary when he started the wandering bard thing, but as he was a younger son - indeed, younger than than his nearest sibling by a full decade - they indulged his whims. As his brother and then nephews inherit and Jaskier remains slowly aging in Kaer Morhen, his family comes to view him as a distant eccentric but loved uncle.)

And that's all I have. As always, feel free to adopt this poor plot bunny, just let me know if you ever do anything with it.

More Terrible Fic Ideas

[catscraftsandcommentary]

I need someone to give Ciri (or Jaskier, or BOTH) a Great Pyrenees puppy. Or two.

...one each, I think, or possibly TWO each.

First, because Pyr puppies are RIDICULOUSLY CUTE and MADE OF FLOOF and you know that Ciri and Jask would absolutely be unable to resist (and Geralt WOULD NOT be able to resist their sad, pleading, puppy -heh- eyes)

(This is a friend's pup, when he was 9 weeks. He was a CLOUD crossed with a TEDDY BEAR who only wanted to LICK YOUR FACE 100/10 would love forever)

(He is still a cloud crossed with a teddy bear who only wants to lick your face, but he is now *M*U*C*H* *L*A*R*G*E*R* A++ lap full body dog)

Tell me you don't want to see witchers playing with giant fluffy dogs and gleefully wrestling them and also giving Geralt SO MUCH SHIT about collecting his own pack of white wolves (Jaskier 100% makes a song about the White Wolf and his tiny white pups before they have even LEFT THE KENNELS, it is a wild hit at Kaer Morhen and gains new stanzas almost as quickly as Ciri's Goose Trick song. Soon Jaskier teaches them to howl in chorus. It's painfully cute.)

Do not ask where they get them, I'm gonna handwave and say it's the Accidental Warlord AU, someone sends the pups as tribute (or offers them while everyone is on the Progress) and Ciri takes one look and falls in love.

Also, with all that thick fur, they'd love playing in snow. They're supposed to be very sweet, affectionate, and gentle to their families and family's friends, but also fiercely protective and intelligent. (They were originally sheep dogs!)

In among the puppies' socialization and training (protect Ciri and Jask! Be nice to Witchers! Don't bite the horses or geese!), I bet one of the Cranes looks at the rapidly growing dogs and ponders "y'know, they could probably pull a sled if you put 'em in a harness."

And then everyone was VERY glad that Ciri is a budding sorceress and therefore able to portal out of/shield herself during imminent sled crashes.

Also, all the jokes ever about the dogs chasing various Cats around the keep, or sniffing them out and baying at them wanting affection, or chasing toys they've tossed.

The first time they shed, Ciri saves their fur and spins it into yarn. It becomes a favorite of hers.

[witcher-and-his-bard-archive]

Title: I Want You (I Can't Help It)

Prompt: sex standing up/against a wall

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier

Rating: explicit

Warnings: very public sex, accidental mating bites, public knotting, a/b/o, intersex omegas

Jaskier tries to seduce the hot alpha who's been coming in every night to watch him dance. He winds up getting more than he bargained for.

Jaskier knows he's cutting it close. His pre-heat will hit in a day or so, but it's his last night before he's off for his heat and he's had his eyes on the strange white-haired man since the first day he stepped foot in this club.

The Lone Wolf, he and Essi call him because he's always alone. He always comes in in the evenings, sits near the back of the crowd, orders a single drink - maybe two - and never speaks to anyone. But he keeps his eyes on Jaskier the whole time. Jaskier's left the stage soaking through his shorts before because he can smell the guy all the way across the room and he smells incredible. Jaskier wants him like he's never wanted anyone before. So tonight when the man comes in, he makes up his mind to take him home with him.

Jaskier's off early due to his upcoming heat, but he knows his body well enough to know it won't be tonight. So there's not harm in hanging out at the club a little longer. His fellow dancers are stunning and it would hardly be a chore to watch them.

So when he finishes, he throws a tanktop over his shorts and fishnets and strolls out into the front of the club. He orders himself a drink and joins the crowd who are dancing blindly to the too-loud music, leaning against a wall. But he can't keep his eyes off the wolf and he knows he's being watched in return. The thought makes him hot in a way that has nothing to do with the dozens of bodies around him or the spotlights shining down on them.

Glancing toward the man, Jaskier downs the rest of his drink and steps out onto the dancefloor. He sways his hips enticingly, trying to catch his admirer's attention and he knows he's good at it. There's a reason he's been dancing so long. And he can feel wolf's eyes on him, tracking each of his movements, but he's staying put, so Jaskier steps up his game a little.

He slips up to a familiar face, asking if they mind sharing a dance. The answer, as usual, is an obliging yes and Jaskier wraps himself around him, rocking from side to side and pressing in against the man's neck. There's a shift in Wolf's scent, a tinge of sourness that makes Jaskier grin widely to himself. Jealousy.

When the song finishes, Jaskier gives his partner a kiss on the cheek and thanks them before swaying away, back to where his wolf is waiting. He walks straight up to him with the intention of calling him out, but he can feel how tightly wound his wolf is, see the way his fingers clench around the arms of his chair.

So Jaskier climbs into his lap without pre-empt, wrapping his arms around his neck. He leans in close, lips brushing the curve of Wolf's ear.

"Why don't you ever buy a dance?" he asks, "you come and you watch and you leave when I finish-" he gasps as strong hands grip his hips and he's sure he's going to be shoved to the floor, but he holds strong and continues. "I'd be more than happy to have you. You've no idea what you do to me, darling."

"Don't call me that," Wolf groans, then begrudgingly and with an eyeroll, "name's Geralt."

"Geralt, huh? Sexy." He gets a raised eyebrow in response, but Jaskier just chuckles. "Come on then, Geralt, dance with me."

He runs his hands down Geralt's arms, taking his hands. Geralt doesn't fight him, but he doesn't get up, even when Jaskier climbs up off of him. Jaskier pouts at him and while Geralt offers the faintest smile, he just lifts an eyebrow at him again. So Jaskier bends down craning his neck and he can feel the way Geralt leans into him, noose barely brushing under his jaw. Geralt wants him, he just needs a little persuasion.

"Fuck," Geralt rumbles and Jaskier hums in response. "You're close to your heat."

"Close," Jaskier conforms, "but not yet. All I'm asking for is a dance."

Truthfully, he'd like a hell of a lot more from Geralt, but he is just a customer and Jaskier isn't about to push the limits of what he's allowed.

"One dance?" Geralt asks.

Jaskier grins widely at him and Geralt rolls his eyes fondly, pushing himself to his feet and taking his hands. He gets his hands on Jaskier's waist, guiding him toward the dancefloor. He keeps his distance, but Jaskier can smell his budding arousal now and he wants to get him close. He turns in Geralt's hold, looping his arms around his neck and pressing up against his chest, looking up at him.

The music would drown out whatever he wants to say, so Jaskier just leans into him, moving against him. He mimics the dances he does on stage, letting Geralt feel every inch of his body and by the way Geralt's hands press into his skin, he very much appreciates it.

They move smoothly together, slotted against one another and Jaskier's skin prickles with every little jolt. He buries his face in Geralt's neck, inhaling the scent of his arousal, of alpha, and he knows he's toeing a dangerous line here but his heat isn't due to arrive just yet. So he ignores the prickle of his skin, the way Geralt's breath against his cheek makes him ache.

But Geralt doesn't just let him lead. When the song ends, he pulls Jaskier closer, a wordless promise that he's not finished with him yet, and turns him around so they're back to front. Jaskier slides into a crouch, lifting his arms and winding them around Geralt's neck again as he rises back up. And Geralt meets him, hands sliding over his bare stomach, brushing up to tease his nipples. Jaskier gasps and Geralt presses his nose into the back of his neck.

"Do you know why I come here?" he asks, lifting his head to mouth at the curve of his ear.

"To watch me?" Jaskier guesses.

"Yes, but not just that. Ever since the first night I was here, I can't get your scent out of my head." He nuzzles against Jaskier's neck, inhaling deeply.

"You want me?" Jaskier asks and Geralt rumbles low behind him, a distinct affirmative. "I'm yours alpha, do whatever you want with me."

Jaskier rolls his head back and Geralt nips at his jaw, turning Jaskier's head so he can kiss him properly. The kiss is uncoordinated and desperate and it only takes a few moments for Jaskier to realize Geralt's fingers are slipping around his throat, gently running up the column of it.

"Wanna mark you up," he breathes and in that moment, Jaskier isn't sure if he means to mate him or show his dominance by scent-marking him, but something inside him shifts and he realizes he doesn't really care.

"Do it," Jaskier breathes, "let them smell you on me, show them who I belong to."

Jaskier's breath comes quickly and he doesn't realize how wet he's getting until Geralt' hand slides down his stomach, dipping to cup Jaskier's firm cocklet through his shorts. Jaskier jerks into the touch with a groan, arching off of Geralt's chest. He knows there are people out there who like to think the dancers belong to them, people who come in every day and hire them and think it's a relationship. Geralt asking to mark him should send up some sort of warning flag, but Geralt doesn't feel like that.

Jaskier has has plenty of experience with clients - good and bad - and Geralt isn't like any of them. The alphas who think they can claim him are usually upfront about it, demanding from day one, where Geralt was happy to sit and watch and wait for Jaskier to make the first move- The thought catches Jaskier unaware and he rolls his head back to look up at him. The thoughts running through his head are stupidly fond, too much for a first encounter, but Jaskier wants him - for more than just tonight.

He tucks his head under Geralt's chin, nuzzling against his scent gland; if nothing else, he wants to smell like him, wants everyone to know Geralt is the one he willingly chooses.

Geralt's fingers dig into his hip and the hand around his cocklet squeezes a little more firmly. Jaskier grinds back against him and he can feel the swell of Geralt's cock through his trousers. He slips a hand between them, stroking the length of him as well as he can in the limited space and shuddering at the low moans that slip from Geralt's lips.

"You can fuck me," Jaskier breathes, "if you want."

"Jaskier-"

"I'm serious. Do you know how many alphas come in here with fantasies of bending me over that stage and knotting me in front of everyone?" Geralt growls low against his ear and Jaskier sighs, bringing his hand back up to slip through Geralt's hair. "I'd let you. If you wanted. Even when I dance for them, I'm thinking about you, imagining your hands on me to keep from thinking about them-"

"You're too close to your heat," Geralt rumbles, even as his hips shift forward, pressing his cock against Jaskier's ass. "I want to fuck you, I don't want to lose myself when I do."

"Not that close," Jaskier pants.

He undoes the top couple of buttons on his shorts and takes Geralt's hand, sliding it beneath the leather. Geralt doesn't need guidance as he slips deeper, running his thumb down Jaskier's cocklet where it's trapped there before pushing lower and fingering the folds of his cunt.

Jaskier moans softly at Geralt's enthusiasm, slumping against his chest and tilting his head to give Geralt better access to his neck. Geralt licks a stripe jup his throat and nips at the underside of his jaw, pressing in closer and closer, pinning Jaskier between his mouth and his fingers.

"Fuck me," Jaskier whimpers and before he's even finished speaking, Geralt is guiding him forward, away from the crowd.

Geralt guides him around a corner into a dark alcove and presses him up against the wall. Jaskier knows this spot and he's sure he's not the only one who's been fucked here. Geralt easily undoes the last few buttons on Jaskier's shorts and slides his hand deeper, sinking two fingers into him, feeling him out as he sucks marks into the side of his neck. Jaskier whimpers under him and it only serves to arouse Geralt even more, shoving further into him and thrusting a little.

"This what you want?" Geralt rumbles and Jaskier nods eagerly, mumbling a weak yes as Geralt's mouth slides over his skin again. "Good."

Jaskier rocks onto his fingers, reaching down to play with his cocklet while Geralt fingers him. He's already fully hard, leaking slowly over his own fingers as he touches himself.

"So wet for me," Geralt hums, "such an eager little omega." He purrs the words, nuzzling closer. "You want me?" he asks, "want my knot?"

Arousal shudders through him and Jaskier finds himself nodding despite himself. It's unrealistic for Geralt to knot him here, but he does want it. Maybe after he comes, Geralt could be convinced to come home with him where he can knot him properly, where Jaskier can hang off of him for hours.

Jaskier doesn't realize he's speaking aloud until Geralt pulls his hand away to open his trousers and pull his cock out. He shoves Jaskier's shorts down, pushing the netting with them and he slides his cock between Jaskier's thighs, letting the head slip against his cunt. Geralt is big and Jaskier has to hold back from squeezing his thighs around him and trying to push him inside. He wants the stretch, wants to feel all of that nice big prick buried inside him.

Jaskier shifts, lifting his hips and widening his legs, trying to push Geralt's cock into him. Behind him, Geralt huffs and presses Jaskier flush against the wall, taking his hands and pushing them up above his head to hold them there. Jaskier whines against his bonds, but Geralt just hums into his neck and continues the slow roll of his hips.

"Maybe we shouldn't," Geralt mumbles, "I can smell it on you - your heat's coming on."

"C'mon," Jaskier whines, "it'll be quick-"

"Depends on your definition of quick," Geralt grumbles but Jaskier can practically feel him considering it.

"How long could it be?" Jaskier reasons, his hips twitching as Geralt's cockhead catches on his cunt.

He knows the answer to this, but with zero connection and neither of them truly in their cycle, it shouldn't be long. Geralt can linger long enough to knot him without it being a problem. But Geralt just rocks against his cunt, encouraging the slick that drips to the floor beneath them. He's swelling already, Jaskier can feel his knot with every forward thrust and it makes him crazy. Then Geralt nuzzles against the side of his head, nipping at his ear.

"Can you keep quiet?"

"Mm," Jaskier nods.

"Good."

Geralt shifts his hips and rocks forward, sliding into him and Jaskier nearly drops forward but for Geralt's hands holding him against the wall. Jaskier rocks his hips slowly to start, but Jaskier writhes on his cock, pushing his hips back to take him deeper. Geralt doesn't stop him, just thrusts harder when he pushes back, keeping his knot away from him as well as he can. Jaskier decides that, for now, he's fine with it because he knows he can convince Geralt to knot him.

But Jaskier can feel the swell of him and every time it nudges against him, his breath catches. He wants to be stretched open on it, to hang off Geralt's knot while Geralt spills inside him again and again. The thought sends a ripple of arousal through him and Jaskier shudders, arching off of Geralt's chest. But Geralt fits himself against his back, bringing one arm down to wrap around his stomach.

Geralt's mouth seals around the back of his neck, sucking marks into the skin and nipping over them. Jaskier will be covered in them in the morning and the idea of it thrills him already. He reaches down, sliding his fingers around Geralt's cock where it breaches him and slipping against him. He loves the girth of Geralt's cock, loves how it feel inside him, how well Geralt uses it to fuck him into a mindless mess.

Jaskier tries to stay mindful but he can already feel himself slipping, feel the fog of lust and alpha creeping in and making him stupid. He moans softly, careful to let Geralt hear him but not anyone else.

"Geralt," he breathes, "fuck Geralt, you're incredible-"

"Mm. You like my cock? Like the way it fills you up?"

"Yes," Jaskier whines, "fuck, you're so good. Gonna give me your knot?"

"We'll see."

"Geralt-"

Geralt chuckles darkly and leans down to catch Jaskier's mouth in a rough kiss. It's inelegant and awkward but Jaskier won't let him break it, twisting even as Geralt's hands silp up to play with his nipples. Jaskier knows he's getting close, knows without telling Geralt to slow down he's going to come before him and-

Geralt bites his bottom lip and groans into his mouth and Jaskier's body jerks as he comes, spilling onto the floor beneath them. Geralt turns him around and pushes him back against the wall, one hand on his shoulder and the other in the middle of his back, holding him in place.

"Fuck," Geralt rumbles.

He fucks into him quick and hard, letting his knot stretch him just a little before pulling back. Jaskier whimpers every time, his cocklet swelling again already with the increased force of Geralt's thrusts. Geralt drops against him, bracketing his body against the wall and mouthing at the side of his neck. He shifts forward, nipping lightly and when his teeth graze the spot where a mating bite would go, Jaskier shudders and holds his breath.

"You're a little slut, aren't you?" Geralt growls and Jaskier whimpers under him. "Would've let anyone shove you up against a wall as long as they've got a knot, hm? Too close to your heat little omega, makes you desperate."

"No," Jaskier gasps, "no, jus' wanted you- only you alpha-"

There's a growl from behind and Geralt's teeth sink into his skin. Jaskier's head goes soft and soupy almost immediately, too lost in the pleasure to realize what's happening. Behind him, Geralt continues fucking into him, grinding his knot against him until it pops in and Jaskier moans loudly, unable to control himself like this.

Geralt stretches him , fucking him on his knot until he shudders and buries himself deep, plastering himself against Jaskier's back. He's hot and sweaty and Jaskier could cry with how badly he wants to curl around him and bury himself in him. Geralt wraps an arm around his stomach and reaches down with the other, toying with Jaskier's cocklet.

Jaskier squirms at the sensitivity, thrusting between Geralt's hand and his cock. He's so overwhelmed he can't think, going on instinct alone, desperate for the pleasure Geralt offers him. He comes again with Geralt's hand on him, then sags in his arms, forehead pressed against the wall as his body goes all but limp under him.

They remain tied… a long time. Longer than any tie Jaskier has ever experienced and Geralt nuzzles comfortingly against the back of his neck.

"Okay?" he asks and Jaskier just mumbles against him.

By the time Geralt softens enough to pull out, Jaskier's cocklet is firming up again but the rest of his body is limp and boneless. Geralt tucks himself away and adjusts his own clothing before turning to Jask and buttoning him up again. Jaskier slumps against the wall and Geralt leans in, pressing a kiss to his slack mouth before brushing his fingers over the bite on his neck. His demeanour changes immediately and Jaskier reaches out for him to catch his attention.

"Ger'lt?"

"I… bit you," Geralt says hollowly, finally meeting Jaskier's gaze.

"'S fine," he mumbles, "no one else was gonna-"

"Hush. Your scent is spiking, I should take you home."

"Gonna come with me?" Jaskier mumbles.

"What kind of alpha would I be if I mated you and left you to your heat alone?" Geralt hums, then shrugs, smiling softly. "Was planning on it anyway."

Jaskier beams up at him and as Geralt bends to lift him into his arms, he kisses him.

Jaskier's heat holds off for another couple of hours until they get him home before coming on in full force. Geralt stays with him, fucks him through it and keeps Jaskier hanging off his knot for hours at a time. If there was any question about whether Geralt would be a fit mate, he shatters it in the few days after their initial meeting.

When Jaskier's heat breaks, he wakes to a variety of foods surrounding his nest and a water bottle that makes it easy for him to drink. Geralt isn't there, but Jaskier can smell him and he remembers enough from the last few days not to worry that he'll be back shortly. And he is.

Jaskier has barely made it halfway through his water when Geralt opens the bedroom door and comes to drop next to him. He tips Jaskier's chin up and gives him a soft smile before tipping forward to kiss him.

"I ran a bath," he hums, "if you're feeling up to it."

"'M tired," Jaskier smiles, pressing his cheek into Geralt's hand, "but if you join me, I could be persuaded."

He can barely hold himself up, can't even keep his eyes open, but the thought of Geralt's warm, firm body against his own, the thought of warm water washing over him - how could he resist?

Geralt picks him up and carries him to the bathroom, stepping into the bath with Jaskier still in his arms and sits back against the tub, letting Jaskier rearrange himself. He turns onto his front, wrapping his arms around Geralt's middle and resting his head on his chest.

"Geralt?" he mumbles and there's a low rumbling reply. "Would you- could I bite you, too? I know it was an accident, but I'd-"

"Yes," Geralt breathes and Jaskier props himself up as well as he can.

"Could I- now?"

Geralt tips his head back and a weak thrill runs through Jaskier's body. He leans up over Geralt's chest, kissin the spot on his neck then licking over it before grazing his teeth against his skin. Geralt shudders just faintly and wraps his arms around his waist as Jaskier's teeth dig in.

He feels Geralt's heartbeat under his tongue and it makes him wild. Geralt's hands slide up his sides, his back and he hums as Jaskier finally pulls away and tucks his head under Geralt's chin. Geralt's got his eyes shut and his breathing is slow and even, but Jaskier can feel his arousal and he rocks his hips down against him. The sleepy moan he gets in response is incredibly hot and Jaskier's cocklet twitches between them.

"Really?" Geralt mumbles, "again?"

"Can I help it if I want you?"

"You just had me. For days."

"Oh, Geralt," Jaskier hums, leaning up to kiss him.

One of Geralt's hands tangles in his hair as he sits up, already bundling Jaskier into his arms. When Jaskier can finally break away, he's panting again, staring directly at Geralt. For a moment, he forgets to breathe at all, amazed that, despite the circumstances, this stunning man wants to keep him.

"I'm never not going to want you like this."

"Mm," Geralt smiles, rising to step out of the tub with Jaskier in his arms, "I think I can work with that."

[gods-no-longer-tread-here]

I was thinking about an amazing fic wherein Geralt locks himself away in his own mind, leaving nothing but the wolf, and also one of my old friend’s fluffy h/c fics where a heat-crazed omega and an alpha who refuses to have sex with heat-crazed omegas cuddle for like 2.5 days straight, and also ace week. So. Here is this.

words: 1,737 characters: Geralt, Jaskier, Lambert, Roach, Eskel and Vesemir mentioned summary: Geralt forgets to take his meds (inspired by my own personal experiences with forgetting meds for longer than a week), and gets cuddly. Jaskier’s fine with it because it amuses him.

~

Geralt was acting strange.

Then again, he wasn’t a human, so his actions weren’t really supposed to be familiar. That made Jaskier happy, to be honest. He’d had enough of trying to puzzle out other humans; Geralt was just as complex, but far more straightforward.

But still, this fussing was out of character. He was so particular about hunting and buying food, and insisted on getting Jaskier a thick wool cape, and seemed hyper-aware of the changing seasons. Finally, Jaskier decided he wasn’t naïve enough for this.

“Geralt, why are you doing this?”

Geralt, half asleep and curled around Jaskier protectively, mumbled, “Winter soon. Gotta keep you healthy.”

Jaskier grinned, and squirmed over onto his back. “My dear, not that I’m complaining about your care, but why now?” he asked, booping Geralt’s nose.

The Witcher scowled and said, “You’re my mate. Have to take care of my mate.”

Jaskier’s heart tripped.

Geralt must have heard, because he suddenly became very awake, staring at Jaskier with wide eyes and a set mouth. Jaskier breathed in and out slowly; there was no point hiding his immediate reaction, but he should at least try to stay calm.

“Do Witchers see mates the same way as us humans?” he asked.

Geralt didn’t move for an agonizingly long moment. Then he said softly, “No. Mates are… they’re people we… you won’t betray us.”

Jaskier stared back. And then he grinned, and snuggled against Geralt, rubbing his nose on his Witcher’s collarbone. Said Witcher relaxed, wuffled in contentment much like a big, lazy dog, and wrapped Jaskier up tight in his arms.

“Mates are people you trust not to hurt you?” the bard hazarded, unable to stop grinning.

“Yes. Go to sleep, now.”

“Oh, alright.”

~

A month later, as they were beginning their ascent of the mountains, Jaskier decided that Geralt had been lying.

As soon as they had left the last human village, Geralt’s human habits began to fade into more animalistic ones: instead of cooking the few plump rabbits he was able to hunt, he portioned them out and ate the organs while Jaskier cooked the meat. He insisted on finger-combing Jaskier’s hair every night (which the bard quite liked). His movements became smooth in the way of a predatory animal, not a man with predatory mutations. Roach began to snort and sidle at times, trying to keep her distance.

And Geralt didn’t even pretend he wasn’t coddling Jaskier like a delicate maiden.

It was very odd. And yet, Jaskier didn’t really mind. Geralt wasn’t smothering him; he was simply far more attentive than ever before. More attentive than he was with Yennefer, even.

Jaskier’s breath catched, and he cleared his throat to hide the noise, trudging up the narrow path behind Geralt and in front of Roach. He didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about her--not when he was going to spend the winter with his dearest friend.

Geralt suddenly turned, stared at Jaskier, and then whined as his face melted into a look of worry. If he’d had wolf ears, Jaskier thought, apropos of nothing, they would be upright and shivering.

Jaskier smiled. “I’m alright, my dear,” he said. No matter how softly he spoke, the cold stone of the mountain caught the sounds and threw them into an echo as if he had shouted. “I was thinking of something, that’s all.”

Geralt closed the distance between them in three fluid steps and wrapped his arms around Jaskier, whining and sniffing the bard as if his scent would give away his thoughts.

Jaskier felt his heart grow warm again. “I’m alright,” he repeated, leaning into Geralt’s embrace. “I’m with you, aren’t I? I’m always alright with you.”

Geralt made a wolf-like noise of happiness, and then kissed Jaskier. When his mouth opened in surprise, the Witcher’s tongue slid in and licked the inside--and not in a sexy way.

“Ew!” he shrieked, wrenching back. “Geralt, you brute, what are you doing?”

“My mate,” Geralt rumbled. It was the first time he’d used recognizable words in nearly a week. He was also smiling, so fondly and sweetly. “My pretty mate.”

Jaskier’s cheeks heated immediately, and he pressed his face into Geralt’s neck. “Alright, you win. My… my mate.”

Geralt hummed in deep contentment. After several moments, they untangled from each other, Geralt licked Jaskier’s lips, and they continued their journey.

The cold of winter was setting in painfully fast. While much of the coast was quite pleasant, Jaskier had spent many years in Lettenhove shivering through storms and snow that killed at least three people every winter--but usually more. He knew what to expect from sharp cold; he’d just never been in a place this dry and cold.

They were only a few days away from Kaer Morhen when the air pressure changed so quickly that Jaskier’s ears popped twice. The dry feeling that had seeped into his every orifice vanished as the first snowstorm began to brew; he breathed in deeply and grinned at the moisture that sank into his mouth, nose, throat, and lungs. Now this was the kind of winter weather he was used to.

Geralt growled and hustled his mate and horse along as fast as was safe.

Jaskier barely had time to feel relief at the sight of the trail leveling out before the snowstorm opened and everything became a white-and-grey blur. He and Roach both stopped in their tracks, and he called out, “Geralt?! Geralt, where are you?!”

A dark form hulked into his personal space and embraced him. It smelled and felt like his witcher. Jaskier clung to him, and tried not to think about the day he had joined a rescue attempt to find the last fishing vessel in the middle of a wild storm. There had been sirens. The sailors used a horn to drive them away; Jaskier had panicked and started singing, and the sirens had fallen silent.

He wasn’t allowed on the ocean after that, and he was very glad.

But this wasn’t the ocean. He had never realized how much he trusted solid boats and salty water before he became so acutely aware that one misstep would send him tumbling through nothing.

Geralt hoisted Jaskier up in one arm, took hold of Roach’s reins, and continued on the path.

It seemed like a thousand years before hands tugged at his cloak, and Geralt snarled viciously. Jaskier clung tighter, and did not raise his head until they passed into a space that wasn’t windy.

“Ger’l?” he whispered.

Geralt rumbled reassuringly and nuzzled under Jaskier’s hood to lick his ear; the warmth of his tongue shocked the bard’s cold skin. “Safe,” Geralt said, and set him down on his feet.

Jaskier smiled, and promptly collapsed.

~

“He won’t take his medicine, not until his mate is awake.”

“That’s so stupid! Doesn’t he want to be able to think?”

“Yes, but he’s not Geralt right now. He doesn’t have a human mind. I told him he needed to get better at making it himself…”

Jaskier opened his eyes the barest crack, and tried to make a noise. He couldn’t. He was so tired and foggy.

Almost immediately, someone was kissing his face, and licking it, and giving tiny puppy noises of joy and worry. He smiled, and opened his eyes wider.

It was Geralt, of course, looking absolutely delighted. Jaskier reached up one shaky hand and booped his nose.

“Hello, darling,” he said.

“Hello,” Geralt replied.

~

There were three other Witchers in the keep: a tired father, a calm and kind elder brother, and a pissy baby who was only a few years older than Jaskier. They stayed far away from him, although they were courteous, and provided him with food since he couldn’t leave his nest by the fire due to Geralt constantly lying on top of him and acting like a love-sick puppy. Jaskier began to worry about that merely an hour after he woke.

Four hours after he was awake, the pissy baby brother approached with a tray holding two pottery cups. He set it down near Jaskier and ordered, “Give him the blue cup, it has his medicine in it.”

Jaskier looked at the cups. One was green and the other was a soft purple. “Ah… those are green and purple.”

The Witcher stared at him, then at the cups, then back at him. “What?” he said blankly.

“This one is green,” Jaskier pointed to said cup, “And this one is purple. Which one is blue to you?”

The Witcher pointed silently, and Jaskier nodded, picking up the cups carefully and handing the “blue” one to Geralt, who cocked his head curiously.

“It’s just a drink,” Jaskier told him soothingly. “It will help us both feel better.” He sipped his own and tasted spiced cider, which made him hum in appreciation. Geralt downed his drink in three quick gulps, set his cup back on the tray… and then yelped and rolled off of Jaskier, thrashing and howling.

“Geralt!” Jaskier tried to lunge for him, but the other Witcher held him back. “Geralt! What did you do to him?!”

“Gave him his medicine that he hasn’t been taking for probably three fucking months,” the Witcher said tersely. “Watch him.”

Jaskier never took his eyes off Geralt, heart pounding with fear. After a few minutes of thrashing, his wolfish sounds melted into human curses, and when he laid still, panting harshly, Jaskier strained towards him again. “Geralt!” he cried, reaching for him.

Geralt looked at Jaskier, frowned, then looked absolutely terrified. Before Jaskier could ask, he was up and out of the room.

“Geralt?” Jaskier repeated softly.

“He’s just embarrassed,” the youngest Witcher grunted, letting go of Jaskier. “Drink your cider. He’ll come back when I leave.”

So Jaskier drank, and the Witcher left, and after a whole three minutes, Geralt slunk back in and sat beside Jaskier. After a moment, the bard lunged and squirmed into Geralt’s lap, hugging him tightly.

“Welcome back,” he said.

“I licked you,” Geralt said.

Jaskier laughed merrily and kissed him. “Yes, you did. You also played with my hair.”

“And called you my mate.”

Jaskier paused. “Well… yes. Was that a mistake?”

Geralt shrugged and wrapped his arms around Jaskier. “Dunno. Do… would you mind if… are you alright with that?”

“Yes, my dear, I am very alright with it.”

“Oh. Good.”

And then Geralt snogged him senseless.

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

it's my birthday today, I can't see any of my family or friends today and I'm really bummed. could I have some hurt/comfort fluff blease? maybe a sprinkle of modern au? and no pressure if you don't want to

Happy Birthday lets-play-gwent! Sorry about not being able to see anyone, so let me give you some h/c content to make up for it! <3

tw: minor injury

---

Jaskier sighed and pulled a roll of clean white bandages from behind his bathroom mirror, setting them on the counter next to his boyfriend. “Why are you always getting into scrapes like this and showing up at my apartment in the middle of the night?”

“Because I’m... scrappy?” Geralt answered. His voice, usually low and gravelly in a way that made Jaskier’s knees weak, sounded high and tight as he tried to speak through his pain. He was also trying to hide something, which Jaskier hated. He gave his boyfriend a firm look and Geralt deflated, hanging his head, “Because I’ve been doing some extra contracts on the side to help Lambert pay the bills and I didn’t do enough research this time.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier sighed as he finished cleaning up and bandaging the scrapes on the older man’s left arm. “Please, take a break. Lambert can get a second job like you or Eskel have to do every once and awhile. Or he can buck up and finally ask Aiden to move in with him; split rent is easier to pay, even in a studio like your brother’s. You can’t spread yourself so thin because you have a very demanding job that involves a lot of focus and if you... if you...”

Jaskier trailed off and the Witcher kept his eyes shamefully averted, trying to think of a way to apologize without promising to never do it again; he’d always be there to help his family. That’s what family did. That’s what Witchers did. Wolves moved in packs, after all, and Geralt was the fucking White Wolf. 

That selfsame Witcher looked up sharply when he smelled the tangy salt of fresh tears and heard Jaskier stifle a quiet sob. He wiped the bangs from Jaskier’s forehead and tilted his chin up so their gazes met, “What’s wrong, bluebird?”

“I can’t lose you, Geralt,” he sobbed, burying his face against his boyfriend’s uninjured shoulder. “You have to be more careful because it’s not- it’s not just you anymore, you know? I’m here, at home, thinking and worrying about you every time you go out. I wait for your ‘I’m safe’ text messages all night; I don’t sleep if I don’t know you’re safe again, dear heart. You can’t... you can’t just-”

Geralt leaned forward and silenced Jaskier with a soft kiss. “I’m sorry for not considering your feelings. I didn’t know that’s how you felt, but now that I do... I won’t go out with Lambert as often. I can’t say I won’t go at all, because I always help my brothers just like they always help me, but if I feel too tired or if he doesn’t have enough information, I won’t jump to my feet right away. How about that?”

“Fair,” Jaskier nodded, holding up his pinky finger. Geralt took it with his own and they each kissed their side of the pinky-promise. “Alright, then. Into bed; we’re both exhausted.”

As they curled up, Geralt behind Jaskier with a solid arm around his slender waist, the younger man sighed again. “I love you, Geralt. I never want to lose you.”

The Witcher tucked the top of Jaskier’s head under his chin, “I love you, too, and I won’t be leaving you until my dying day. At least sixty years from now.”

“Good.”

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, dear heart.”