#yennefer fluff

[mountainsinaboat]

[mercisnm]

Some spellwork has gone horribly wrong and turned Tissaia into her 5 years-old self (oh no!). Yennefer is experiencing mixed emotions about this, though mostly overly protectiveness over tiny—, well, even-tinier-than-usual Tissaia.

(Tiny Tissaia done after a Manet's print)

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 48

Jaskier is feeling insecure. This isn't new. He makes sure everyone always thinks he's at the height of his confidence, but he has bad days. Many times, actually. He had been working up the courage to tell Geralt how he feels, but he saw Geralt and Yennefer talking and it just started digging around in his brain. He's not nearly as pretty as Yennefer, and certainly not as powerful. He's just the annoying bard that follows Geralt around. Geralt is confused when Jaskier is suddenly trying to do everything and anything for Geralt. He's trying out eight different new hobbies, none of which suit him, and all of which being things that are purely practical. When Geralt finally confronts Jaskier about it, Jaskier breaks down over how he'll never be as good as Geralt's previous lovers, and Geralt finally finds his words in order to describe all the many things Jaskier does amazingly and every little quirk that Geralt adores.

[lexysmexy5]

Witcher Headcanons fluff

For all of you witcher fans here are some fluff headcanons for all reader genders.

For Geralt x reader:

He loves when you talk to him when he is out looking for monster contracts, he most of the time never talk back or seems bored by your talking but he does love your voice, it makes him feel less lonely and different.

He loves to play with your hair (for those who have no hair or don’t like hair he will rub your head softly)

He will sometimes grab your hand and rub circles on them with his gloved hands he does tend to wish he had no gloves on because he loves how your hands feel.

For Lambert x reader:

Lambert is very VERY protective and will do anything to keep you from harm and let’s say if he finds anyone eyeing you in a way he doesn't like, you have to stop him from bashing the person’s head in or a sword in their body.

He hates taking a bath unless you come with him.

He doesn't ever tell you but when you rub his shoulders after he comes home (or at Kaer Morhen) either in the tub or in your guy’s room he absolutely loves it you know how to get every knot out of his shoulders.

For Yennefer x reader:

She will buy you anything (or steal) that you find you like or whatever she thinks that would look good on you.

Yennefer loves when you sing (or read) to her she loves hearing your voice.

She wants to be next to you at all times if possible and she will hold your hand a lot.

For Jaskier (Dandelion) x reader:

He goes to a lot of performances and loves it when he sees you in the crowd listening to him sing.

He will always hide his nervousness in the relationship with humor and jokes (and you can’t forget his nervous hand gestures) but he always trusts that you will work things out together.

He loves when you sing with him (or listen) he talks and sings a lot being the enter of attention but he never forgets to give you the spotlight at times and let you shine and get the attention, not all the time though after all he is your damsel in destress.

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I wonder if you want a part 2 because I will do it. I will also do smut/spicy headcanons too. I am VERY new to posting on Tumblr I have been on here for a while but never really posted too much. Have a great day or night wherever or whenever you are reading this. 

[whitewingsh]

Just giving y'all green lights and say there is audience for The Witcher content

*wink wink* if yk what I mean

[cherryjuicegf]

"Sweet Melitele, my balls will fall off out here!"

Yennefer flinches ever so faintly, lips twitching in an involuntary smile. She was not expecting company.

His steps are almost too loud on the stone floor of the balcony as he approaches and she does him the favor of replying. "And wouldn't that be a sight to behold."

A gasp, scandalized. "Oh, wicked witch. Who says you are not the one to control the weather, just to watch me suffer?" He stands beside her, the blabbering idiot, and it almost hurts to look him in the eye. "I'll tell you what would be a sight, a lightning striking you right where you stand, oh I would love to see that!"

Somehow the moment her fists clench on the railing, he goes silent. She still doesn't look at him. She wasn't expecting company, after all.

The thing is, company finds her anyway these days and she wouldn't say that it bothers her, no, she couldn't say that. Rather, it is a way of smiling every now and then, just to feel her lips turn upwards for once instead of ripping her face with bitterness. It is a way of feeling something. Even if it's regret, a cruel longing tearing her heart out of her chest every time she looks into his eyes, and sees herself.

Worse, he sees her too.

And now here he is, playing his biggest role, always before her and it always feels so forced, so out of place. Nothing like it does with the others. He is good at this with the others.

Ahead, the forest spreads white and deep under the light that struggles to pierce the grey clouds. Thin snowflakes have already started twirling in the wind, cold and biting. At least, at least.

Suddenly, the voice beside her becomes hushed, and the curtain falls. "Too typical for you to seek the cold, don't you find?" There is a slight mirth in his tone, perhaps something to keep it warm.

Her nails dig into her palms, skin already sore and rough. She wants to avoid his stare. She can't. "Perhaps. Old habits die hard." Their eyes meet and a sudden ache attacks her knees. Damn him. A short smile curves her lips. "The only warmth that has ever welcomed me is that of a battlefield on fire."

She watches as the fingers of his right hand curl into his coat, as though on instinct. There was a time when she craved that same fire. Now that it has betrayed her too, she has nothing left but the cold.

Jaskier's eyes are crinkling faintly in the corners and it almost looks like a wince. Gods, why is he not saying anything? Only staring, searching as though for a string inside her to pull and let her crumble to the ground.

There are times she thinks she would let him. She almost craves it.

Now, she scoffs. How dare, how dare he doubt the shelter she has been hiding under for two lifetimes now, how dare he stand right in front of her and wait so ruthlessly for her to give in to something he will have to take back, sooner or later, lest she consumes it all.

That is the problem with company. After a while, you learn to expect it.

No, not now. She can't let him slip through her now. She shakes her head, and looks away. "What's the matter with you today?"

Something close to laughter escapes his lips then, almost incredulous, almost angry. "You have been the matter with me for quite a while now!" Yennefer turns at him sharply, and she is almost relieved in her need to fight back, and yet once she faces him, his shoulders slump. The expression that was bitter moments ago now melts into a soft thing, tender. Exhausted. "I don't want to play this game, Yennefer," his voice sounds so hollow it almost floats with the wind. "Not now."

At once, she deflates.

The thing is, it's too late. He has already slipped through, a long time ago, and so has she. It would be an injustice now, to hide from the mirror that has already walked in her shoes.

She holds her breath, looks him in the eye. Holds herself from screaming along with the blowing wind. "Something is missing," she says and her voice is cold, steady. Funny, how easily emptiness turns into a fact. She swallows, smiles. "My magic is back, and something is still missing. Simple as that."

Jaskier raises an eyebrow and she feels her lips quivering, resignation seeping inside her bones. There he goes. Winning again.

She lets go of the breath, lets go of the tightness in her body. It doesn't matter now. She closes her eyes, and her voice resembles a whimper. "Gods, Jaskier. I'm so tired."

The wind howls between them, blowing a few snowflakes over the balcony.

Suddenly, she feels gentle fingers wrapped slowly around her hands, holding them tight. She looks at Jaskier as he raises them in front of his face, running his thumbs over her knuckles and staring at them intensely, as though all her secrets are buried between the lines of her skin.

Softly, he presses a kiss there, lingers. Then, on the other hand. Something tingles in her eyes.

He doesn't let go. Only, he looks at her, a small smile on his lips. "Maybe your hands have been too cold."

It's a dangerous game, the one he wants to play. But she doesn't find it in her to step back. Perhaps because she never learns. Perhaps because, for all the coldness, she prefers the fire.

Perhaps now she can say that the only warmth that has ever welcomed her is that of a battlefield on fire, and the loving warmth of his hands.

So she smiles back.

When Jaskier slowly, carefully leads her inside, she can only follow.

[wren-of-the-woods]

Love, Joy, and Kittens

When Geralt and Yennefer finally get a room at an inn after weeks of travel, Jaskier expects to spend a calm evening with his lovers and sleep in a real bed. This plan is derailed when they find an unexpected creature in their room. Or: In which Geralt, Yennefer, and Jaskier meet a kitten. Established Geraskefer, 5k, rated T. Also on AO3!

Jaskier was having a lovely week.

Ciri had gone off with Lambert and Coën. According to Lambert, they were “having some uncle-niece bonding time.” Jaskier had suspected that this would involve a large number of explosives, cursing in various languages, and very little room for anything else, so he had suggested that he, Geralt, and Yennefer travel alone for a time and rejoin them in a few weeks. The relief on Geralt’s and Yennefer’s faces at the idea had been highly amusing. 

The three of them had been wandering the Path for almost a week. It had, for the most part, been wonderful. Jaskier got to spend time with his lovers, singing at them and making them laugh. He got to appreciate their beauty all day long. He got to spend every night cuddled up to the two of them, reveling in the warmth and safety.

However, he did not get to do any of this cuddling in an actual bed.

Their financial reserves were not exactly plentiful and, with Ciri gone, they did not have any real reason to prefer the comfort of an inn over the convenience of a bedroll in the woods. Jaskier understood all of this perfectly well. This did not mean he was happy about it. 

He may have complained about it a little bit, but, well, he was a bard. If Yennefer and Geralt didn’t want to hear a little whining now and then, they shouldn’t have brought him along. 

Jaskier hadn’t expected anything to come of his grousing. Jaskier had been wrong. 

After a particularly long day of travel, Geralt and Yennefer apparently came to an unspoken agreement. Geralt led Roach into the first town they came across and Yennefer headed in the direction of the inn. Jaskier’s confused and halfhearted objections (“What? Yen, that’s not really necessary, I know we don’t have much coin. I’m really fine, I swear!) were met with firm denial (“Shut up and let us spoil you, idiot), so Jaskier deemed it best to give in.

He made as though to protest at the price the innkeeper named for the single room that was apparently available, thinking to offer his services as a bard in exchange for a discount, but Yennefer cut him off before he could. She handed over the money and nodded in approval when Geralt began to drag him upstairs. She followed them shortly after.

“I still think I should have performed,” Jaskier was saying. He tugged halfheartedly at the grip Geralt had on his hand, though he could not claim that he really minded the touch.

“You’re exhausted,” said Geralt. 

“I think that, as irritating as the innkeeper was, this town does not quite deserve your half-asleep caterwauling,” said Yennefer with a smirk as she came up behind them. 

“Hey! I’ll have you know that you two are the only ones who I grace with my half-asleep caterwauling. Everyone else gets only my performance voice or my drunk caterwauling. Sleepy Jaskier is a gift that only you two get to see.”

“We’re grateful,” said Geralt, “But you really should sleep. Without singing.”

“Just because I’m not a great and powerful magical being doesn’t mean I can’t handle a little fatigue, Geralt.”

“Yes, and acting like a child who doesn’t want to go to bed is such a good way to prove your strength,” said Yennefer.

“Excuse me,” Jaskier said as they approached their room, “I act only with the greatest of grace and—”

A mewling sound from the other side of the door cut off his words.

It was soft enough that Jaskier barely heard it, but the way Geralt froze and stared at the door was enough to assure him that he was not imagining anything. He blinked.

“What’s that?” he asked.

Yennefer was frowning. “I don’t know, but be careful.”

“Is it magical?”

“I don’t think so.”

“It doesn’t smell like a monster,” Geralt agreed.

“Who knows what the innkeeper put in there, though?” asked Yennefer. “It could be a trap.”

“Yes. Be careful.”

The three of them stood there for a moment, staring at the door. It occurred to Jaskier that they would likely look rather comical to an outside observer.

“Well? Are we going in?” he asked.

After a moment of hesitation, Yennefer stepped forward. Slowly, carefully, she opened the door and peeked inside the room. She was silent for a long moment.

“Well? Is it dangerous?” asked Jaskier.

“I’m… not sure,” said Yennefer. Geralt stepped forward with a frown to lean over Yennefer and peek in the room as well.

“What the fuck?” said Geralt.

Jaskier’s heart pounded. He tried to get a look inside the room, but it was effectively blocked by the bodies of his witcher and witch. He stood on his tiptoes. It was no good.

“What is it?” he asked again. “A trap? A monster? Please don’t tell me we have to find somewhere else to sleep. My feet are already killing me. Why aren’t you saying anything? Is it gruesome? Can I see?”

With an irritated glance at Jaskier, Geralt stepped back. A little shakily, Yennefer opened the door and entered the room. Jaskier shoved past her and saw, sitting directly in the center of the room’s only bed—

A tiny, fluffy, orange kitten.

Its head was almost comically oversized for its body. Its tail was neatly tucked around its paws. It was looking at them with an adorably bewildered expression, appearing rather like it had just been woken up from a nap. Jaskier thought it could probably have sat in one of Geralt’s hands with very little trouble.

Jaskier stared at it. It stared back.

Jaskier burst into uncontrolled, delighted laughter.

Yennefer shot him an irritated look. Geralt shuffled awkwardly behind him. This only served to make Jaskier laugh harder.

“A kitten!” he wheezed when he caught a breath between giggles. “You were so nervous— You paranoid bastards— I cannot believe— It’s just a tiny kitten!”

“It might be a trap,” Geralt protested weakly.

“You could probably eat it in a single bite if you wanted to, Geralt!”

“That’s morbid,” said Yennefer. She sounded amused.

“And you!” said Jaskier, wheeling around to face her. “You said you didn’t know if it was dangerous! Yennefer of Vengerburg, the most powerful and feared mage on the Continent, was unnerved by a tiny little cat!”

“I can strangle you, Pankratz.”

Jaskier was overtaken by another fit of giggles.

The kitten mewled again, this time sounding rather disgruntled. Jaskier whirled around to face it.

“Oh, you poor dear. Did we wake you up from your nap? What are you doing here, anyway? Where’s your family?”

“It’s a cat,” said Yennefer. “It can’t understand you.”

“Oh, I thought it was a terrifying supernatural being capable of destroying nations.”

“On second thought, maybe strangulation is too good for you.”

Ignoring her, Jaskier approached the bed. Slowly, he held out his hand towards the kitten. It sniffed his fingers then mewled again. Gently, Jaskier stroked its head with a finger. Its eyes went wide. For a moment, Jaskier thought he had gone too far, but then the kitten pushed up into the touch. Jaskier’s heart positively melted. He kept stroking its head, unable to help the grin that spread across his face.

Behind him, he heard Geralt slowly sidle into the room. The kitten did not react.

“Are you sure it’s a real cat?” Geralt asked Yennefer. Jaskier glanced back to see him staring at the kitten, almost transfixed. “Cats don’t like witchers.”

“I don’t feel any magic,” Yennefer admitted.

“It’s kind of hard to be afraid of someone who’s halfway across the room and looking like a frightened pigeon, even if you’re a cat,” said Jaskier.

Geralt scowled and ignored him. “It can’t stay on the bed forever. We need to sleep there.”

“That is an issue,” said Jaskier thoughtfully. He turned to the kitten. “What are we going to do with you, hmm?”

“Again, it can’t understand you,” said Yennefer.

“Ignore them,” Jaskier told the kitten. “They do not understand the concept of whimsy.”

Slowly, Jaskier shifted so he was sitting on the bed beside the kitten. It did not seem overly bothered by the change. Jaskier moved to stroke its back. It looked content. Very gently, Jaskier brought a hand under its ribcage and picked it up, moving his other hand to support its hind legs and then cradling it against his chest. It mewled confusedly and squirmed a little, looking up at him, but he kept stroking it and it settled within a few moments.

He could feel its tiny chest rise and fall against his hands as it breathed. Its fur was slightly matted in places and it could probably have used a bath, but at that moment, Jaskier could not have imagined something softer or more pleasant to touch. It closed its eyes. Jaskier felt his heart melt a little more at the trust it was showing him.

He glanced up at Geralt and Yennefer to see them still on the other side of the room, looking at him with something that looked startlingly like awe.

“You can come over here,” he said instead of giving in to the flustered feelings trying to overwhelm him. “No need to cower.”

“I don’t want to scare it,” said Geralt, and Jaskier’s heart broke a little.

“You won’t scare him,” he said.

“Him?” asked Yennefer, raising an eyebrow.

Jaskier shrugged. “I’ve decided it’s a he. Orange cats usually are, I think.”

“How do you know I won’t scare him?” asked Geralt, returning them to the original topic.

“He can probably smell you perfectly well from here. If he was going to be scared, he already would be.”

Geralt hesitated. “I don’t know how to act around cats.”

“That’s okay. I’ll show you.” When Geralt still hesitated, Jaskier looked to Yennefer. “Come on. What are you waiting for?”

Yennefer frowned at him. “I’m not scared. I just don’t want to get fleas.”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “I’m sure you can magic away fleas as easily as blinking. Get over here.”

After a quickly-hidden second of trepidation, Yennefer stepped forward. She looked at the kitten. The kitten, after a moment, looked at her.

“Mew?” he said.

Yennefer looked back at Jaskier, seeming uncharacteristically uncertain. Jaskier had to hold back a laugh.

“Come on,” he said. “Pet him.”

Slowly, Yennefer reached out to stroke a hand over his head. He blinked up at her, rather bemused.

“Keep going,” Jaskier said encouragingly.

Yennefer continued to stroke the kitten, first his head and then his back. Within a few moments, he settled and closed his eyes. He looked very content. Yennefer stared down at him with shock and a tiny bit of delight.

Jaskier decided that it was time for her to ascend to the next level.

“Here,” he said, and handed the kitten to her.

Jaskier had seen Yennefer achieve feats of unimaginable bravery. He had seen her fight her worst fears with determination, seen her battle hordes of monsters that might have made even the most skilled of witchers hesitate, seen her face down armies without flinching. Yennefer was brave. She was powerful. She was, in a word, incredible.

She was also looking down at the kitten he had just placed in her hands with an expression that could only be described as terror.

“I don’t know how—” she started to say, then cut herself off with a panicked gasp when she had to fumble with the squirming kitten to keep him from falling. He mewled indignantly.

“It’s okay,” said Jaskier, reaching forward to help. “I’ll show you. Here, you put your hand where it’ll support his weight, under the ribcage is good. Yes, just like that. Now you— yes! You’ve got it.”

Yennefer ended up sitting on the bed beside Jaskier, carefully cradling the kitten to her chest with both hands. The kitten was rather disgruntled by the whole affair, at first, but when Jaskier gently encouraged Yennefer to free a hand and continue stroking him, he settled down. He snuggled into Yennefer’s arm. After a few moments, his eyes slipped closed.

Yennefer’s eyes widened. She swallowed.

“Is he sleeping?” she asked hesitantly, her voice so soft it was almost a whisper.

“Yeah,” said Jaskier, feeling a grin spread across his face. “He’s taking a nap.”

“Oh,” she said softly.

She sat there for a long moment, quietly stroking the kitten. She seemed unable to tear her gaze away from the tiny, fluffy body in her arms. Jaskier found himself unable to tear his gaze away from her. She pet the kitten so gently that it was almost painful to watch, care and tenderness written into her every movement. Her expression could only be described as awe. In that moment, Jaskier was unable to think of anything that could possibly be more beautiful.

After a few long minutes, she looked up. Geralt was still standing against the far wall of the room, watching the little group on the bed with what appeared to be a mixture of fondness and longing. Yennefer took one look at his expression and sighed.

“Get over here,” she said. Jaskier nodded. Geralt, after a moment’s hesitation, obeyed.

His approach was slow and silent. When he came within a few paces, the kitten stirred, looking up at him with his ears slightly flattened. Geralt froze. Jaskier hushed him and scratched him under the chin, while Yennefer kept her hand resting on its back. That seemed to do the trick. The kitten settled back down into Yennefer’s arms. Jaskier gestured Geralt closer, and at his behest, the witcher sat down cautiously on Yennefer’s other side.

The kitten was still awake and watching Geralt with a little bit of wariness, but he did not seem overly bothered by the witcher’s presence. Jaskier internally cheered.

“You can pet him,” he whispered to Geralt.

“I don’t want to scare him,” Geralt said again.

“You won’t. Yennefer and I will help.”

A little bit of Yennefer’s uncertainty returned. “I can try, but—”

Jaskier waved her off. “Nonsense. He already likes you. Go ahead, Geralt.”

Geralt hesitated. “But—”

Jaskier rolled his eyes. “You can make fun of me if I’m wrong. I take responsibility for any and all kitten-related disasters. Go ahead.”

Geralt huffed, amused. Jaskier hid his smile by looking down at the kitten.

Slowly, Geralt crouched down so his head was more or less level with the kitten. He swallowed, reached out, and gently ran his head down the kitten’s neck and back.

“Mew?” said the kitten. He looked up at Geralt. He blinked.

“Keep going,” said Jaskier softly.

Geralt stroked the kitten again. When he did not panic or run away, Geralt did it again.

“He’s soft,” he whispered, entranced.

“Yeah,” said Yennefer, her voice equally quiet.

They both stared down at the kitten, who was content in Yennefer’s arms as Geralt stroked him. The kitten looked very small and helpless beneath Geralt’s big hands, but did not seem particularly bothered by that fact. Jaskier felt himself growing a little teary-eyed at the sight.

“Do you want to hold him?” Yennefer asked after a few moments.

Geralt’s eyes went wide. He glanced at Jaskier, nervous. “Do you think I can?”

“I do,” said Jaskier. “He already likes you, see?”

He gestured at the kitten, who was meowing in quiet protest at the fact that Geralt was no longer petting him. Geralt looked back at him. His face softened.

“I suppose,” he said. He looked up at Yennefer, then back at Jaskier. “Will you help me?”

Yennefer nodded.

“Of course,” said Jaskier. “Here, Yen, you can hand him to Geralt just like how you picked him up. Just support his weight— yeah, there you go. Geralt, you do the same thing.”

After a few moments of fumbling and a few disgruntled mewls from the kitten, Yennefer managed to deposit him in Geralt’s hands. Jaskier had been correct; he could have sat on just one of Geralt’s hands without too much trouble. Geralt was carefully cupping him with both of his anyway. The sight made Jaskier struggle not to dissolve into an unhelpful puddle of affection.

“What now?” asked Geralt, sounding almost as nervous as he had when Ciri first asked him to help her with her hair.

“You can put him in your lap, if you want,” said Jaskier. “You might want to get comfortable, though. Cats don’t always like to move once they have a nice person to sit on.”

After glancing at the bed consideringly, Yennefer crawled up to lean against the rather rickety headboard and patted the spot beside her. “Come on. I think we can all fit.”

Jaskier scooted up to sit near her, leaving space for Geralt between them. Geralt glanced up at them, then down at the kitten in his hands. The kitten had started to nibble on one of his fingers. After a moment of consideration, Geralt cautiously got to his knees on the bed and hobbled over to them, being careful to keep the kitten from being jostled. He settled in between Jaskier and Yennefer and set the kitten gently in his lap. The kitten flailed a little at the new position, but it took only a few moments for him to settle on one of Geralt’s thighs.

“Keep petting him,” Jaskier said encouragingly.

Geralt obeyed. On his other side, Jaskier saw Yennefer resting her head on Geralt’s shoulder and looking down at the kitten. For several moments, the three of them sat in content silence. Then—

“It’s vibrating,” said Geralt, sounding adorably terrified.

“Oh!” said Jaskier, delighted. Now that he was paying attention, he could hear the faintest of rumbling sounds from the kitten. “He’s purring, Geralt. That means he feels safe and content. He’s happy.”

“Oh,” said Geralt. His voice was filled with awe.

“We made him do that?” asked Yennefer. She spoke softly, as though trying not to interrupt the kitten’s purrs.

“Yeah,” said Jaskier, matching her tone, “We did.”

Yennefer smiled. It was not an expression of triumph or of power, not assured or sarcastic. It was not the smile she liked to show to the world. It was small and soft, tender and a little uncertain. It was directed at a small ball of orange fluff lounging in a witcher’s lap. Jaskier knew at that moment that no song he could write would come close to describing her beauty.

“I wonder where his family is,” Yennefer mused after a long few moments of content silence. “He can’t have gotten here all by himself, can he?”

“We can ask the innkeeper tomorrow,” said Jaskier. “Looks like he’s alone at the moment, though.”

“He isn’t,” said Geralt.

Jaskier blinked. “Please don’t tell me there are more cats hiding under the bed and you didn’t tell us, Geralt.”

“No.” Geralt looked rather embarrassed. “I just meant… we’re here. So he isn’t alone.”

Jaskier gave the kitten a thoughtful look. “I suppose that’s true.”

Yennefer looked back and forth between Jaskier. A small frown appeared on her face.

“He might have a family,” she said. “You can’t just take him.”

“I wasn’t going to!” Jaskier protested. “I just think he can stay with us tonight, is all.”

Yennefer looked at him skeptically. “That’s what you said when we found you trying to hide a baby griffin in your backpack.”

“That was one time—”

“It was extremely memorable and also idiotic. I am not letting you live it down anytime soon.”

Geralt casually removed one hand from the kitten to cover Jaskier’s mouth, muffling his indignant response and reducing his words to spluttering. Yennefer giggled at the sight, and Jaskier felt the fight drain out of him at the sound. Sensing his surrender, Geralt removed his hand and started to pet the kitten again before it could stop purring.

“The griffin thing was stupid, but this isn’t a griffin,” Geralt said diplomatically. “I think he can stay the night if he wants to.”

Yennefer subsided. “I don’t see why not.”

The kitten mewled a little. The three of them glanced down to see him resettling himself on Geralt’s legs, apparently having decided that he could make himself more comfortable than he already had.

“We’re going to have to move him eventually,” said Yennefer reluctantly. “We need to sleep somehow.”

Jaskier considered that for a few moments. “Maybe we can put him on one of the pillows. As long as no one rolls over in their sleep, he should be all right.”

Geralt looked doubtfully at the bed. The three them of sitting side by side were already rather squished.

Jaskier rolled his eyes in Geralt’s direction. “I don’t see you offering any better ideas.”

“I think we can make it work,” said Yennefer. “We’ve slept in smaller places.”

“All right,” said Geralt.

“I suppose we should lie down, then,” said Jaskier. Though he was reluctant to break the moment, he was still sleepy and knew that they needed to rest if they wanted to get anything done the next day.

After a few moments of shuffling and some rather disgruntled sounds from the kitten, they managed to get settled in a way that was comfortable for everyone. Geralt was on his side with an arm thrown over Jaskier’s waist. Jaskier was on his back so that Yennefer could lie half on top of him in the way she sometimes preferred. The kitten was curled up on a pillow behind Yennefer’s head. Jaskier’s arm was around Yennefer’s shoulders to keep her from rolling over in the night and crushing the kitten. 

Yennefer was warm and heavy on top of Jaskier. Geralt’s breathing was slow against his side. Jaskier drifted off within moments, feeling safe, loved, and content.

  ~

  The next morning, Jaskier was awakened by tiny and very sharp claws kneading directly on his bladder.

He yelped and flailed, trying to sit up. He was not very successful. This was mostly due to the fact that his right arm was trapped under a warm body and there was a thigh pinning his legs down. The kneading continued. Jaskier squirmed again, more frantically. He tried to free his arm to remove the pressure on his bladder, but—

Yennefer yelped as she went tumbling off the bed and thumped onto the floor.

Geralt sat up like a shot, looking around frantically and reaching for a sword on his back that was not there. Jaskier, now free, wasted no time in sitting up and gently but firmly removing the kitten from his person.

Geralt glanced between Jaskier, the kitten, and Yennefer, who had managed to sit up enough for her head to poke up above the edge of bed.

“...What?” asked Geralt weakly.

“Yeah, Jaskier, what the fuck?” asked Yennefer.

She clambered back onto the bed, giving Jaskier her most ferocious glare. The effect was slightly ruined by her spectacular bedhead.

Jaskier gestured emphatically with the kitten in his hands. “This fucker was poking me!”

Geralt frowned. “Why did that mean Yen had to fall out of the bed?”

“She was trapping my arm. I was desperate. Sorry, Yen.”

Yennefer glared at him. “I could turn you into a toad.”

“Listen, if I hadn’t removed him from my bladder we would have had a much worse situation on our hands.”

Yennefer looked at Jaskier’s apologetic face. She looked at Geralt’s expression of confusion and fond exasperation. She looked at the kitten, who looked distinctly unrepentant.

Unable to help herself, she dissolved into giggles. Jaskier was rather alarmed for a moment — had she just come up with a magnificent punishment for him? His face must have done something interesting, because Yennefer looked at him and started to laugh even harder. Behind Jaskier, Geralt chuckled a little as well.

“How did he even get to your stomach?” he asked. “He would have had to crawl over Yen’s head without waking her.”

Jaskier looked thoughtfully at the kitten. “He’s a master of stealth, I suppose.”

That sent Yennefer off into another round of laughter. Jaskier found himself unable to keep from joining her with his own helpless giggles.

Geralt looked between the two of them and shook his head fondly.

“I’m going to get us breakfast,” he said, leaving them to their merriment.

Jaskier and Yennefer had caught their breath and mostly regained their composure by the time Geralt returned with some food. Yennefer had the kitten in her lap and was petting him absently. He looked very happy with himself.

“I asked the innkeeper about him,” said Geralt, gesturing to the kitten with the hand that was not carrying their food. “She says he’s been hanging around the inn for a week or so, being fed scraps by the guests. No sign of any family, but he seems to be doing well enough. He’s healthy.”

“Is the innkeeper fine with him being here?” asked Yennefer.

“She doesn’t mind him as long as the guests are happy and he keeps some mice away, but she’s had some complaints about him sleeping on beds. She might have to find a way to get rid of him if he doesn’t stop.”

Jaskier looked down at the kitten, pensive. “I hope she doesn’t have to. It would be a shame to keep him away from people if he likes them.”

Yennefer patted Jaskier’s shoulder. “I’m sure he’ll be all right.”

Yennefer reached for the bread that Geralt was carrying and began to eat. Geralt passed another portion to Jaskier. The three of them munched their food contemplatively, looking at the kitten.

“I feel like we should name him,” mused Jaskier. “Calling him ‘the kitten’ in my head is starting to get weird. I need something to shout when I’m reprimanding him.”

“What do you want to call him, then?” asked Yennefer.

“I don’t know! What do you think?”

They sat quietly for a few minutes, the silence only broken by the kitten’s purrs.

“Well,” said Geralt when no one offered any ideas, “There’s always Ro—“

“No!” shouted Jaskier and Yennefer simultaneously.

Yennefer smacked Geralt’s shoulder. “Not Roach. You can name all the horses you want, but I draw the line at cats.”

Jaskier nodded. “We can think of something better. I believe in us.”

Geralt subsided with a huff. There was another moment of thoughtful silence.

“Cirilla the Second?” suggested Yennefer.

Jaskier flopped back down onto the bed, buried his face in a pillow, and groaned loudly. “I loathe you both.”

“I don’t see you having any better ideas,” Yennefer protested. Jaskier groaned again and rolled onto his back.

“What have I done to deserve this?” he asked the ceiling.

“Is that an insult or a compliment?” asked Yennefer with a smirk.

“It can be both.”

“I’m not so sure. That would require complicated things like nuance and finesse. I am not sure a bard of your caliber could keep up. Perhaps we need someone more practiced, for instance Vald—”

“How about Mackerel?” Geralt said loudly and rather desperately, cutting Yennefer off before disaster could strike.

Jaskier and Yennefer both fell silent. They looked at Geralt. They looked at the kitten. They looked back at Geralt.

“Is your entire repertoire of names made up of fish?” asked Yennefer, and Jaskier burst into laughter.

Geralt looked on with some disgruntlement as Jaskier’s guffaws slowly faded into giggles.

“What?” he asked. “It’s a decent name.”

Yennefer rolled her eyes. “Retrospectively, I’m grateful you didn’t go back to claim Ciri when she was young. The poor girl would have ended up saddled with the name Perch.”

“You are an idiot,” said Jaskier to Geralt. “An utter and complete moron. I love you.”

“Hmm,” Geralt said, flustered.

“Do you have any better names, Jaskier?” asked Yennefer.

“Absolutely not. Mackerel is hilarious. We’re keeping it.”

Yennefer sighed but failed to hide her smile. “Oh, fine.”

They finished their breakfast in companionable silence. When they were finished, they sat on the bed for a while longer. It was comfortable, after all, and they were in no particular hurry. Jaskier determinedly did not think about any other reasons he might have for not wanting to leave the inn.

“We can’t stay here forever,” Geralt said eventually, reluctant.

Yennefer sighed. “Yeah, we’ll have to get going if we want to meet Ciri and Geralt’s idiot brothers in time.”

Jaskier hauled himself to his feet.

“Let’s get to it, then!” he said with false cheer.

With practiced ease, they packed up their things. They were ready to leave within minutes.

They did not leave.

The three of them dithered in the room. Geralt gazed out the window. Yennefer checked corners for anything they might have somehow lost. Jaskier fidgeted with his notebook.

“Well,” said Yennefer, “I suppose it’s time to go.”

She went to stand in the doorway. Geralt and Jaskier joined her.

None of them moved.

They looked back at the kitten, who was once again on the bed. Mackerel looked back at them. He meowed.

Yennefer heaved a deep, longsuffering sigh. “We’re taking him with us, aren’t we?”

Geralt sighed. “We might.”

Jaskier whooped so loudly that it startled Mackerel. He darted back to the bed and scooped the kitten up in his arms. Mackerel mewled in complaint.

Jaskier stroked his head in apology. “Sorry for startling you, darling, but you’ll be much happier about it soon. You’re coming with us! You’ll get to see the continent. You’ll get to experience all sorts of varied and delightful table scraps. It’ll be lovely.”

Across the room, Jaskier heard Yennefer trying to stifle a laugh. He ignored her.

“You’ll get to meet so many people,” he said to Mackerel. “You’ll get to explore the world. You can meet our family, too—”

Jaskier cut himself off with a gasp and turned to Geralt and Yennefer, his eyes shining. “Ciri is going to love him!”

“Oh,” said Yennefer with a grin. “Oh, she really will. This is going to be great.”

Jaskier nodded enthusiastically. “This is going to be the best decision we’ve ever made, I can feel it.”

“What do kittens eat?” Geralt asked reasonably, looking rather exasperated at their antics. “We can’t just let him starve.”

“We’ll figure it out,” said Jaskier. “He can’t be that hard to feed.”

Yennefer nodded. “He’s been living off scraps and what he can catch so far. I’m sure he’ll be all right.”

“It’ll be dangerous on the path,” said Geralt.

Jaskier scoffed. “Mackerel is a smart cat. He can take care of himself.”

Geralt looked as though he might protest again, but at that moment, Mackerel meowed. Geralt looked down at the tiny ball of fur in Jaskier’s arms. Jaskier saw the exact moment Geralt’s last arguments drained away in the face of the adorable creature in front of him.

“I suppose he can come,” said Geralt with a sigh.

Jaskier whooped again. Mackerel meowed. Yennefer laughed. Geralt, seemingly despite himself, smiled.

The three of them shouldered their packs, Jaskier passing Mackerel to Geralt to free his hands. They left their room. On their way out of the inn, Yennefer stopped to let the innkeeper know they were taking Mackerel while Geralt retrieved Roach from the stables. The innkeeper seemed happy enough with the idea and waved at them with a smile as they left. 

They set off on the Path, with Geralt leading Roach and Yennefer and Jaskier walking beside him. It was just like any other day in the last week — except this time, there was a tiny orange head poking out of one of Roach’s saddlebags, and Yennefer was having a hard time suppressing a smile. Even Geralt looked visibly content. 

Jaskier’s lovers were happy. They had, somehow, despite everything, adopted a cat. Despite Yennefer and Geralt’s persistent issues with attachment and commitment, they had agreed to take a kitten with them on their travels for no reason other than sentiment and sympathy. Jaskier was so very proud of them. 

Stopping at that inn was the best decision they ever made. 

[astaldis]

Issue no 27 - Lullaby for Yennefer

From Chapter 7: Bard Comfort of "Where the Tulips Grow."

Fandom: The Witcher (TV)

Whumpee: Yennefer of Vengerberg

Caretaker: Jaskier

"Grit your teeth, Yen, this is going to sting." Yennefer gives a curt nod. She has lived through worse in her long life, much worse. Moreover, to her own surprise and against all reason, she trusts 'doctor' Jaskier. As a lutenist he has dextrous, sensitive fingers, hasn't he? Surely a lot more so than Geralt. Jaskier is an artist. He will be good and gentle with a needle, too. Like he is with everything he does.

It does sting when Jaskier carefully cleanses the injury with a cloth soaked in hot water, of course it does, and even more so when he pours copious amounts of a cold liquid onto it that smells like some very strong spirit. Judging from the deep sigh he gives while doing so, a spirit he is loath to part with, but still he does, for her. Yennefer clenches her teeth as hard as she can and only gives a low groan at the burning sensation that radiates from her side into her whole body. It does not get any better, either, when Jaskier starts to insert the first stitch, then the next. She tries to concentrate on his gentle voice that accompanies every stab of the needle with soft, soothing words. To her amazement, it helps a lot more than expected. It is almost a bit like magic. Perhaps it is magic after all? Jaskier's very own, very personal magic? A magic she could easily get lost in. Yennefer sighs. Maybe this is exactly what she should do, get lost in his voice and his touch and forget about the pain and the world and just fall asleep to the gentle lullaby he has begun to sing to her. Or is it a love song?

"He watches the morning light catch on her raven hair. Curves of her lips promisin' a life that they will share. Two lovers intertwined in the light of a winter's dawn. As the rubble of war sweeps down through the valley. So, stay with me, oh, lover, my heart's filled with worry. Stay with me, oh, lover, the borders are burning. And war is yearning to take you away from me. And to bury you deep in the clay down below. So, come to me, oh, lover, my heart is still burning. Come to me, oh, lover ..."

Jaskier keeps on singing the song of the Lark, the elven warrior who killed both an Empress and her lover to save to world. A hauntingly sad song, but still full of hope and love and yearning. The song the mysterious shape-shifting elven storyteller taught him along with the tale of the Seven. He keeps on singing until the last stitch is done and the wound dressed in fresh, clean bandages, until Yennefer relaxes in his arms and falls deeply asleep to his tune with a little smile on her lips, a smile as sweet as the promise of spring. Tenderly, Jaskier tucks the blankets around his sleeping beauty and kisses her good-night on the cheek. Then it is time to finally see to his own leg. No, wait. A disturbing image springs to his mind all of a sudden. Fuck! Almost worried out of his mind for Yennefer, he totally forgot about her, imagine this! His lute, she is still out there. Possibly lying broken beyond repair in the dark and rain. A jolt of panic grips the bard. Looks like he is not quite done rescuing loved ones yet, no. He has to get to her immediately. And yes, don't laugh, his lute is a she and she has a name, too. However, her name is his secret, and it will remain a secret as long as he can sing. So, hopefully until the last breath he breathes on this continent. Preferably in the far, far away future.

[fandom-junk-drawer]

The Witcher Headcanon - Purring Bonus Scene - Part 4

Jaskier thought he knew all of Geralt's purrs. He purred when he was happy, when he was anxious, and when he was hurt or sick. And Jaskier had learned that each one had its own unique sound. Now he could read Geralt's moods by his purrs as easily as he could by his 'Hmm's.

It kind of irritated Geralt because he couldn't hide much from him now. Jaskier had always been very talented at reading people, and had very quickly learned to read all Geralt's subtle expressions, grunts, and body language. Geralt sometimes wondered if the bard didn't have some Fae blood in his family line because it sure seemed as if he could read his f***ing mind sometimes.

Geralt was just waiting for the day that Jaskier would predict, probably down to the minute, when Geralt would have to take a sh*t. And he would probably do it in the middle of one of his sets. In a crowded tavern. Or at a banquet.

Yeah, it would be at a banquet. And he would stop right in the middle of his song and yell in full bardic voice, "You might want to go find the privy, Geralt! I can tell by the way your left eyebrow just twitched that you are going to need to take a truly massive sh*t. You better squeeze those cheeks together and get moving. You've got maybe five minutes before that Food Baby gets born!"

And then Yennefer, from where ever she would be lurking in the hall, would add "And don't forget to wipe your a**!"

If that day ever came, Geralt would be the first Witcher in history to die of embarrassment.

Geralt's sardonic thoughts were interrupted by Jaskier's coughing. The bard had picked up a cold in the last town. It didn't sound like it was anything serious, but they were still going to stop in Vengerberg to let him rest before they continued on to Kaer Morhen. Hunting had been bad this year, so Geralt decided there was no reason why he couldn't go home early.

The bard was sitting by the campfire where he had been restringing his lute and was now trying to tune it. Geralt saw him slowly flex the fingers of one hand, and noticed the slight tremor in the digits. He watched him then squeeze the opposite forearm.

Geralt frowned to himself as Jaskier surreptitiously shook his arms and hands out, and forced them back to attending to his lute. He smelled like sickness, and...pain.

Jaskier had broken both his forearms two winters ago at Kaer Morhen, and Geralt knew what this Autumn chill was doing to the old injuries. He rose, rubbing at his own knee for a moment before hobbling over to the fire.

Jaskier blinked in surprise as his lute was lifted away. A hot stone wrapped in rags was placed in his hands, and he was then pulled face first against a warm chest that was vibrating with a rumbly purr.

Jaskier was going to protest, but the heat from the stone was chasing the ache from his forearms, and he suddenly realized that he was a little bit cold. And pretty tired. And his body ached. They had been traveling most of the morning. Oooh, that purring was...niiiice. The vibration felt good in his hands and arms... Wait, was that Geralt's Hurt purr? No, no, this one was different. It was quieter, steadier...

Geralt didn't know how the purr happened. He'd been trying to Hurt purr, because that was what always helped him when he was in pain, but somehow, it came out different. He felt the second when it hit a rhythm and frequency that...felt right. This was how he needed to purr to make Jaskier feel better.

Geralt purred until he heard Jaskier's heartbeat find a steady rhythm that told him the pain was gone, or at least diminished to where it was tolerable.

"Let's get to Vengerberg so you can rest."

They rode the rest of the day until they reached Vengerberg, and they went straight to Yennefer's house. The mage was waiting, looking as usual, as if their presence were an inconvenience. It wavered for a split second as she watched a pale, tired-looking Jaskier slither down from the saddle.

She grumbled as she led them inside and showed them to their rooms.

"Ugh! Now I have to look at you for the next few days!" Yennefer commented as she strode into Jaskier's room a few minutes later with Geralt at her heels.

"Look on the bright side. It's a nice change from looking at the ugly you see in the mirror every day!" Jaskier replied in a half-hearted, nasally grumble from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Yennefer could hear him wheezing slightly with each exhale.

"Ha! Like you look any better right now!" Yennefer quipped as Jaskier started coughing. She made a face as he gagged up a blob of phlegm and leaned over the edge of the bed.

"Don't you dare spit that on my floor, you uncouth savage!"

Jaskier glared at her, then spat the greenish gob into his hand and wiped it on his shirt.

"That's disgust-! You're disgusting!" She snapped. Her tone was sharp, but Geralt saw that her hands were gentle as she pressed them to Jaskier's cheeks, and then the sides of his neck, before slipping her hand down the back of his shirt.

Yennefer ignored Geralt's knowing 'Hm'. She could feel a little bit of fever in the bard's skin and she could tell by the way he kept wincing that his head hurt. At least his breathing wasn't too bad.

"Yeah? Well...your mother." Jaskier mumbled in one last attempt to keep up the Mortal Enemies act as the witch ran a hand tenderly through his hair.

Yennefer saw him cringe.

"Sorry, Yen... I'm not exactly at my best right now."That had definitely not been one of his wittiest comebacks.

Yennefer leaned in and placed a soft kiss to his temple.

"It's alright, dear heart," She said sympathetically as she slipped under his other arm as Geralt helped him up. "Let's get you into the bath and then put you to bed."

Jaskier heaved a wheezy sigh. He was too tired and light-headed to reply, so he let them slowly lead him to the washroom, where a tub of steaming hot water and a roaring fire waited.

Jaskier drank the potion Yennefer handed him after he'd finished with his bath, then curled up in the bed, tucked up against his personal heater, smelling of the herbs Yennefer had dumped into the bath water to help his breathing. He lay there, listening to the rumble of Geralt's purr.

The vibration of it felt nice. It helped take his attention away from the discomfort in his arms. Or was it easing the pain? Is this why Geralt would purr when he was hurt? Is this what it felt like to him? Was it like a painkiller? Was this some kind of, of Healing purr?

Jaskier wanted to ponder that line of thought more, but the rhythmic sound and vibration of Geralt's purring was making it hard to think of much of anything. The thoughts came sluggishly, then flitted away leaving his mind pleasantly empty. There was just the purring and the warmth.

He shifted, summoning the energy to roll over and clumsily resituate himself. He put his arm over Geralt's stomach and rested his head on his chest. That was better...

Geralt continued purring until he felt Jaskier completely relax. His breathing was deep and even, if a little congested. Geralt slowly eased his sleeping friend off him, settling him on his back so he could breathe easier.

He shushed him when he stirred, snuffling and clumsily rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes as he muttered groggily. Geralt pulled the blankets up over him, and laid his hand on his chest so he could feel that he was there. Jaskier settled back down after a few moments, falling back asleep.

Geralt made sure there was enough wood on the fire, then went to help Yennefer.

He spent the following days helping out around the house when he wasn't cuddled up to Jaskier, purring.

Jaskier improved quickly over the next three days. He was recovering from the cold faster than Yennefer expected. His fever had broken the first night, and the congestion was all but gone now. The cough lingered, but Yennefer was not concerned about it. Coughs sometimes didn't clear up for a week or two.

Jaskier had entertained himself while he recovered by discussing his theory about Geralt's purring with Yennefer. The sorceress hadn't dismissed his thoughts as he'd expected her to. Instead, she seemed quite interested in hearing them, and the two of them would discuss and compare theories and observations until Jaskier started drifting off. Geralt was often dragged into their discussions for his personal perspective and experiences.

When Jaskier was finally fit to travel, he left with a thick, warm jacket, a bag full of potions for when his arms ached, and a brand new notebook to start recording his thoughts, ideas, and observations. He promised that when they next saw each other, Yennefer could help him organize his notes.

Geralt had rolled his eyes and braced himself for a long winter.

[sayafics]

Soul-bonds & Heartaches - Chapter II

A.N:// Please enjoy chapter 2 of a fic/concept I hold near to my heart! If you would like to check out the original fic idea (also written by me) that inspired this series, please check out my wattpad @theangelradio, I hope you guys enjoy this!

Part 1

Part 3

Part 4

Masterlist

Andromeda had spent the night crying into her arms, sleep gnawed at her but the scenes which had only just unfolded replayed in her mind until it was all she could think of and sleep became unimportant.

She began to rethink all her actions and all her words, her mind running through 'what ifs' and 'maybes' because despite it all she did not get her happiness and she did not get her Geralt.

Before she knew it the sun had risen to symbolise a new day but she couldn't forget the events of the passed one, her heart raced at the notion of having to face the man she had run from and the woman he had probably run to.

If she could, she would've ran farther away, far away enough so their bond was insignificant to her, far away enough so she could pretend everytime he touched another woman she didn't feel her blood sting and her heart burn.

She wished she could. But Cirilla. Cirilla was what kept her here, and Cirilla felt herself tied to Geralt, seeking the father figure she had lost at such a young age and Andromeda knew she could not take that away from her. Not after Cirilla had found solace after so many years, even if it was in the comfort of the man who hurt her in so many ways and continues to do so.

Andromeda did not move for a long moment, taking in the room she sat in - the room was still neat and untouched since they had only just paid for lodgings the night before, both beds laid neat and the air smelt damp. Her face fell slightly as she realised that she had locked Cirilla out of her own room all night, but then her heart swelled momentarily as she realised that Cirilla must've understood her need for space and left her to her own bearings. Hopefully she would not be too mad, and although she did not want it to her lips began to stretch into an unconcious smile as she began to think of the numerous ways Cirilla would complain about having to sleep alone in a strange inn in the middle of nowhere. Of course, all her statements would be made light-heartedly, after all it was not Cirilla that needed Andromeda but Andromeda that needed Cirilla, because despite all the monsters and beasts she faced at Geralt's side, the darkness held unfathomable beings that she could never face alone.

Only it seemed her embarassment and heartache from her fight with Geralt was enough to overpower her fears of the dark last night, and she felt her stomach flip at the realisation that even when she was hurt by him the thought of him made her feel safe enough to sit alone in a dark room. As the realisation became stronger and harder to ignore she huffed as she pushed herself to her feet, perhaps if she was to pretend yesterday's events did not happen he would do the same?

***

It seemed that was not the case at all. Andromeda stood to the side awkwardly as Geralt saddled Roach. No one else was in sight, the day being too early for them to have gotten up so soon, so Andromeda had no one to distract her from the burning glances Geralt sent her way.

"So-"

"I think I should wake up Ciri, we should get going soon. Don't you think?"

Geralt's expression faltered for a moment, but he managed to paste on a blank expression as she looked towards him for an answer, and instead nodded in agreement. It would be best to head off North now, in search of another monster-hunt and run far from the memories which were now imbedded in the walls of the inn that stood to his back.

Geralt found his body, his soul, begging him to follow her steps as she took hurried steps towards their lodgings to awaken their companions, but her ignorance to the confessions made last night made him hesitate for a moment too long and just like that his only opportunity was stripped off him.

***

They had been walking for a while now, the air between them all charged with awkwardness and tension and it seemed no one could face eachother knowing they all had some grasp of what had unfolded the previous night. It seemed even Cirilla was all too aware of the events as she had not murmured a word after her usual 'good mornings' were passed around, and not one comment was made about the fact she had to find another room so late in the day by herself.

Jaskier had tried to break the ice by strumming his lute and humming out his newest ballad, but his attempts fell short when Geralt had threatened to break it over his head. The threat had managed to get a squawk of indignation from Jaskier, a snort out of Cirilla, an eye-roll out of Yennefer and caused a small smile to twitch across Andromedas's face - a smile that did not go unnoticed by Geralt. And for once, he was glad he was not with his brothers because he was sure they would mock his racing heart and the way his breath caught in his throat.

Although it seemed that his awestruck expression was caught by Yennefer, and from the sour look which spread across her face he knew she was not happy. But, as he glanced back towards Andromeda's now sullen face, he knew he would risk the wrath of a thousand witches if he could smile her even one more time.

Geralt's mind had not changed, of course. He knew what he was, and he knew he did not deserve a woman like Andromeda. But that wouldn't stop the way his skin heated when she was close by, the way his heart trembled in her presence, the way his blood sung at the thought of her and the way his soul yearned for her acknowledgement with every breath he took. He could not burden her with his existence, but he would force himself to watch her from a distance and accept every fraction of attention she was willing to give him.

Unbeknownst to Geralt, Andromeda had felt much the same. When Geralt had unknowingly claimed Andromeda as his second prize on the night of Pavetta's engagement banquet she felt hopeful of an escape from a group of people who she knew would never accept her true self. After all, she was an elf - whether she still had her ears intact or not. To the humans she was a monster, and Geralt had to know what that felt like so she thought she had found an equal in him. But everytime he turned away from her, everytime he touched another woman in a way she hoped he would touch her, everytime he hurt her... she tried to keep her hope. Tried to hope he would see how similar they were, how Fate had worked in their favour. But sometimes she thought Fate had cursed them instead, and Geralt's ignorance to the bond he claimed was only proof of that.

In Andromeda's mind, Geralt could not feel the bond they had, did not suffer the consequences of stepping out on the bond like she did when he bedded other women. To Andromeda, Geralt held no feelings towards her other than that of an acquaintance, she was nothing special and that was enough for her to try and move on, only for him to stop her and confuse her all over again, and sticking her back into a cycle of hope and heartache again. Andromeda did not know how much longer she could do this, and she knew her resolve of staying with the group was breaking, bit by bit. And, glancing over towards Geralt and seeing how Yennefer leaned into his side before whispering sweet promises into his ears, she knew she was now closer to leaving than ever.

What she had failed to notice, however, was the way Geralt had instinctively recoiled from Yennefer's presence, as though his proclaimation in front of Andromeda's potential bed-mate, calling her his, had flipped on a switch he was unaware was inside him this whole time. His prize. That was what she had said, she was his Law of Treasure, she was the woman Fate had tied him to in a way that was incomparable to any other magic he had come across. As he met Yennefer's defeated glare head-on he could feel realisation sinking into his gut, knowing that after pushing Andromeda away for so long he had hurt her in ways worse than those he was trying to avoid, and all it had managed to do is make him ache for her in unimaginable ways. His soul found solace in her presence, joy at the thoughts of her and he had denied himself these feelings for so long that he could feel his self-control slipping.

Geralt took one last glance at her, a long and pained glance as he ran his eyes over her figure - admiring how despite the events of last night, despite the harsh words exchanged and the failed ventures, she walked with her head held high and despite the solemn look printed on her face and the defeated look in her eyes she managed to emanate an aura of strength. She was strong, in ways Geralt had never been able to be, and with that thought he turned away and focused on the path ahead as he tried to ignore his swelling heart and buzzing stomach. This was the princess he had met that night in the banquet, the woman he had felt so enamoured by - the woman he felt guilt at the sight of as he made, not one but two claims onto the Royal Family of Cintra. If he had known the claim would give him Andromeda? He never would have left that day.

***

Their journey was going to be a long one, and with the direction they were headed the lands were barren of villages, people and shelter. It seemed the weather was in their favour today, as the only unpleasant part of the night would be the cold breeze which brushed softly against their cheeks. Geralt had deemed the weather suitable enough for them to spend the night under the stars, and Andromeda found herself happy with the prospect - to be free under the night sky, to have the choice of being able to run, or speak, or move without tens of hundreds of eyes on you had placed her in a sense of ease.

Andromeda shuffled to the spot closest to the fire Geralt had set and claimed it as her own. The heat rolling off the flames bringing comfort to her panicked mind as the sky continued to darken despite sunset only being a short while ago.

Geralt could hear her panic, smell it, feel it. But he knew he had no comfort to give and if he did she would not accept it, instead he hoped the reminder that he was here and he would not let anything happen to her would be a comfort enough to soothe her, "I'll take first watch, get some sleep."

Geralt made his way towards a stray log to one side of the campfire, moving it upright and using it as a makeshift stool. He shook his head before Yennefer or Cirilla could protest, he knew they each had their own reasons and he hoped the stubborn look on his face would be enough to placate them both. And taking in the reluctant looks on both their faces as they turned away from the fire to rest, he hoped that would be the end of it.

He glanced over the rippling flames of the fire towards Andromeda who laid too close to the fire for comfort, her eyes flickering in tune with Jaskier's quiet strumming as she looked up at the sky. The flames glowed against her skin, her cheeks flushing at the heat and her face set in a serene look as she gave into the urge to relax. Her eyes glittered with starlight, full of dreams and desires - a sight Geralt has already seen so many times before during their travels, but even now he finds the breath in his lungs snatched away at the sight - breathless and frozen in a state of admiration. She was beautiful.

Geralt did not know how long he had been staring at her, he did not know when he snapped out of his stupor either but in the span of a few heartbeats he was looking into those eyes, those beautiful eyes - eyes that gleamed with wisdom, eyes that held a world of misery, eyes that made him feel alive - and he found it too hard to look away.

When Andromeda had turned in his direction she had been expecting him to glare into the treelines, always on alert for a threat. Instead, to see those amber eyes staring directly into her own? Her heart stuttered to a stop before slowly beginning to pick up speed. Sure he had looked at her before, she was sure he had even looked at her too but never like this. This look, it made her soul burn in a way she had ached for, for several years. This look made her want to crawl into a hole and hide for the rest of eternity, but it also made her want to leap from her seat and finally, finally, show Geralt that he was hers's as much as Fate had made her his. This look made her feel seen in a way she had craved for far too long, and she didn't think she could let it go now. Instead, she quirked at eyebrow in his direction, and despite her nerves she found herself quietly questioning him, "is something on my face?"

It took Geralt a few moments to process her question, and he found himself slowly shaking his head in response. The action became more vigorous as he pushed himself to speak instead, his voice was deep but hesitant all the same, "no."

"Are you mad at me?"

Now that question had Geralt's eyebrows furrowing, "no." Why would she think that? Had he made her think he was angry with her? He would not be surprised if he was being honest, he had been messing up quite alot lately, especially with her.

"It's just... after yesterday."

They both waited a beat longer, hoping the silence was a prompt enough for Andromeda to continue, "I ran."

"And you had every right to do so. You had every right to be angry too."

"I'm not," Geralt's head twisted at that in curiosity, "don't get me wrong Geralt," - Fate, the way she spoke his name, the way it rolled off her toungue, so familiar and so addictive, it made his heart clench in desire - "I was angry, very angry. But that was in the moment, now I'm just confused. And disappointed."

Geralt sighed at that, his head dropping down as he looked towards the scuffed leather of his shoes, "you have every right to be."

"I know," the tone of voice she used showed Geralt that was not the answer she was looking for so he pushed himself forward.

"I'm a monster."

"I know."

Geralt's head snapped up in surprise, never had someone actually agreed with him and her acknowledgement of the validity of that statement had him feeling undescribable emotions, but before he could voice his bubbling emotions Andromeda had continued, "I am too."

He stopped short at that, her? A monster?

"Come on, you don't think I got these scars for some mundane reason, do you Witcher?" Her tone was teasing as she gestured towards the round and jagged edges of the top of her ears, "I used to be an elf not too long ago," her eyes darkened in hurt as she continued, "I no longer know who I am, but I know that I was sent away to be safe. But the humans would not accept me as their own and my own people would not recognise me as one of their's. To some I am a monster simply for not being human, being mortal. For others, I am a monster for having the one thing that symbolised my people torn off, in an act of cowardice as a trade for safety. How well that worked out, right?" Her laugh was harsh and pained, Geralt could relate to her feelings very well - Geralt was not labelled a monster because he killed them, but because he simply did not look like everyone else, did not think like them, feel like them, move or talk or be like them. He was different, and so he was a monster and so was she.

Geralt found himself looking at her in a whole new light once more, a light that made his desires burn brighter as the campfire flames grew languid in comparison.

"You should get some sleep, Rory."

It was a slip of the tongue. That was what he told himself, and it was this fact that Andromeda forced herself to believe as she nodded in agreement before rolling to face the dying flames and nod off into a fitful sleep. But, as hard as she tried, she could not stop the smile that stretched across her face at the nickname, a smile Geralt had - once again - noticed and taken pride in.

Andromeda found herself slowly drifting off to the faint sounds of Geralts breathing and the slowing strums of Jaskier's lute, her mind racing at the prospect that maybe, after this, maybe Fate was finally going to give her the destiny she was promised.

Taglist: @welliguessiwritethingsnow @kneelforloki @faefairi3 @xicesam @lovesickollie @supersoilderswhxre @henryownsme @makemydaysworthit

(Please let me know if you want to be added to my taglist❤️)

[thewritersaddictions]

Christmas Stories 2023 Master List

Welcome to the Christmas Stories 2023 Master List

A/n- There will be some fluff for and during the Christmas time. This is 24 days of fluff, with a mixture of Christmas-themed songs and movies. Yes 'the nightmare before Christmas' is a Christmas movie.

Word Count- 19,868k

Series Master List

Day 1- Solider Boy + Baby, it's cold outside.

Day 2- Billy Hargrove + National Lampoons Christmas Vacation.

Day 3- Karl Heisenberg + Violent Night

Day 4- Jim Hopper + Sleigh Ride

Day 5- Eddie Munson + Scrooged

Day 6- Geralt + Germlins

Day 7- Damon Salvatore + Grinch

Day 8- John Price + Here Comes Santa Claus

Day 9- Simon “Ghost” Riley + It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Day 10- Koing + Home Alone

Day 11- Steve Harrington + Mele Kalikimaka

Day 12- Luis Serra + Elf

Day 13- Klaus Mikealson + Die Hard

Day 14- Steve Rogers + Have yourself a merry little Christmas

Day 15- Aaron Hotchner + Frosty the snowman

Day 16- Jaskier + Santa Baby

Day 17- Alcina Dimitrescu + A Christmas Story

Day 18- Daryl Dixon + Home Alone 2 Lost in New York

Day 19- James 'Bucky' Barnes + Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow

Day 20- Joel Miller + Winter Wonderland

Day 21- Leon S. Kennedy + Holly Jolly Christmas

Day 22- Negan Smith + The Nightmare Before Christmas

Day 23- John “Soap” MacTavish + Feliz Navidad

Day 24- Rick Grimes + I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus

Completed on: (12/24/23)

Posted on: (09/20/23) - (12/01/23)

Christmas Stories Tags- @dackwccgjd @alex000sstuff @elenaguarnieri @emilyrosetravis @magnificentalpacabird @crazybooklover33 @yourfavthiopoan @peachbunnieluv @jokenotfunny @pastanoodles11 @hyunjinbiased-blog @tuquoquebrute @kjah97 @is-being-ignored-a-hobby @kiwi-lanes @welcomethefears @elenenvy @multifandom456 @sweatshirtXO @g8sstuff @rottendorkmomo @emmasstuff2415

[justsomerandomfanfic]

Hello, I am hoping that you have a good day. I don't remember if I already sent in a request so if I did just ignore this one and I apologize. I was hoping that I could get a Star wars, harry potter, and the witcher, and disney romantic matchup. I am a straight man

Appearance: I am 5ft 11in. I have very curly black hair, dark brown eyes, olive skin, and a beard. I am a burly man with a chubby belly.

Personality: I am introverted but when I get to know people I am very talkative and at ease. I have ADHD and I have minor autistim so I love to discuss whatever area of interest is in my brain that day. People describe me as a very kind, funny person. I am easy to get along with and I am very relaxed and easygoing. I have a bad memory from a head wound but when someone is important I put a lot of work into remembering things about them(writing notes, keeping lists of their likes and dislikes, important dates, etc). Because I have a bad memory I tell the same stories over and over again. I care a lot about my family and friends and I am very loyal to them.

Likes: When people are kind, when someone is passionate about something, Someone who is a good listener.

Dislikes: being mean/rude to people(especially service workers) or animals, making fun of peoples interests

Hobbies: outdoors stuff(hiking, camping, rock climbing, etc), painting/drawing, video games, reading, music

HI! I am sorry for this matchup to be sent so late, but I hope you love it nonetheless! <3333

---

(Romantic);

---

Star Wars;

Leia Organa:

⭐ You met Leia when you, Han, Luke, Chewie, R2D2, and C3PO rescued her - you were a bit quiet at first, but after she started talking, asking you questions, you found yourself answering

⭐ After everyone got out, you and Leia ended up talking a lot; you even got her to laugh a couple of times - all the while, you are also making a small list about Leia, so you could remember all the things she told you she liked and didn't

⭐ When you, Luke, and Han were gifted the medals, you and Leia made eye contact, and for the first time in forever, you felt this sort of connection with her; it made your soul feel warm - she felt completely the same

⭐ After Hoth and finding yourself in the care of the sweetest IRL care bears, you and Leia danced to the music, and the both of you found yourselves wandering around in the forests near the camp - the music was quiet, but neither of you noticed, too caught up in your conversation

⭐ You ended up staying with Leia, going and following her wherever she want, and she immensely enjoyed the company - and when she became Commander Organa, you became her right-hand man

---

Harry Potter;

Hermione Granger:

📚 You met Hermione after Hogwarts and after the battle, you worked at Hogsmeade, at the small sweets shop; you held stock shelves and sometimes helped with customers, but during one of your work days on the floor, that was when you met Hermione

📚 She asked you where a certain sweet was located, saying it was a gift for a friend - you were a bit nervous speaking to her, but you expertly led her to the sweet that she was wanting; and from then on, she kept coming back to the shop, sometimes not even buying anything, just wanting to talk to you

📚 On you lunch break, Hermione would enter the shop and the both of you would walk about Hogsmeade before going to The Three Broomsticks for lunch - there, you and Hermione got to really now each other, swapping your likes, dislikes, hobbies, and so on

📚 Hermione is very supportive and understanding towards you with whatever you might forget; she is always more than okay repeating something to you - she completely understands ♥

📚 At one point, as your relationship began to blossom, you and Hermione would swap books with each other - you would also meet at each other's homes to paint, read, and even hiking when the time suits the both of you

---

The Witcher;

Yennefer:

✨ You met Yennefer when she was learning how to use her magic, you had been close allies with Tissaia de Vries, and you were able to stop Yennefer's attempt during the time - since then, you and Yennefer became pretty close

✨ You and Yennefer spent a lot of time together, your demeanor being very relaxed and easygoing, you radiated a warmth that calmed Yen - she felt as if she could be herself with you

✨ When not busy doing magicy things, you and Yen would spend time walking around the grounds, talking about spells, interests, and both of your dislikes for those who are mean towards others

✨ You believe Yen is an amazingly good listener, and she is, she loves learning more about you, finding your interests very intriguing - and she would always be down to go walking places with you, painting with you, and even reading with you

✨ You make Yen very happy, and she does the same for you, the both of you are so well fit for each other, and it is obvious to those who you meet - you are one of (if not the only) the most powerful couples in all of the land

---

Disney;

Ariel:

🐟 You had known Ariel for a long time, being a merman, you often spotted her swimming away to her secret cave of treasure from time to time - you, like her, were also interested in the land above, and often went up to the surface to watch ships go by and people play on the nearby beach

🐟 It wasn't until you found some object from the surface world fall into the sea that you thought of giving it to the young princess - though, you were a bit nervous, but you gained your courage and swam to find her

🐟 Ariel was beyond the moon when you gifted her the surface treasure, instantly smiling and her eyes widening in excitement; it was then that she asked if you wanted to see her collection - how could you say no? You loved how passionate she was about the surface, and her collection was very impressive

🐟 From then on, you and Ariel would spend a lot of time together, swimming around when she wasn't needed by her father, just swimming and talking about the surface - Ariel would get so excited when you got back from the surface with new information or when you brought her a new item

🐟 You and Ariel have such a love for life, and all of its wonders, and the both of you dream of a better future - a future on the surface together

---

[negans-lucille-tblr]

The Witcher Masterlist

Below you’ll find all the links to my fics for the series The Witcher

< Back to Main Masterlist

Geralt of Rivia x Reader

Until Sunrise

Summary: Geralt doesn’t plan on leaving until sunrise.

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

WC: +/- 1K

-

Geralt of Rivia x Reader x Yennefer 

None at this time

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Geralt of Rivia x Reader x Jaskier

none at this time

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Geralt of Rivia x Jaskier

none at this time

[tonbane]

Yennskier + 7 prompted by @handwrittenhello​ ! You know that one dress Yennefer wears with the shoulder jacket thingy? What if.. what if it’s gone 😳. I’m having Thoughts.

(Here’s all the kiss prompts so far)

Give me a 🔁 if you 💟 what I do!

[corvo-bianco-lilacs]

Soft Trissefer for @tree-woven because I miss getting prompts from my dear friend 🥹

-------

Yen gently traced her fingers over the scars on Triss' chest, the fire burning in the hearth beside them casting a soft glow over Triss' skin, making the scars dip into shadows before standing out once more in stark contrast against her skin.

"I don't think I've ever properly seen your scars, darling." She breathed, her index finger dipping between soft breasts before tracing back up towards Triss' throat. She leaned down, pressing feather-soft kisses against each one, before pressing another peck beside her ear. "I'm sorry I couldn't prevent them."

Triss rolled over, facing Yen, her hand gently taking hold of the raven-haired woman's, their fingers intertwined.

"We were all busy on those fields... I don't blame you for not being there. In fact, it's quite the contrary. I'm glad you weren't there when I got these scars."

Triss gingerly turned Yen's arm over, her thumb grazing over the old wounds that still marred her own porcelain skin, soft welts that stood out against her arms, and the reason she always wore long gloves.

She bowed her head, pressing a kiss to Yen's old wounds, her lips barely gracing the surface, almost as if she were afraid that even a tender touch would break the woman before her.

"I don't think I'll ever fully understand the pain you went through... What you endured mentally and emotionally to leave such scars on your arms... To attempt to take your own life... But I'm glad that you no longer feel that way."

"It's because I have you now, and nothing could ever bring me back to that dark point in my life." Yen replied, pulling Triss up to kiss her softly, every ounce of emotion spilling between them in that kiss.

"I love you, Yen... Now and forever."

"And I love you, scars and all."

"Heh, scars and all." Triss smiled, her fingers ghosting over Yen's wrist once more, sending shivers down her lover's back.

"Come. We should rest."

"I'd go anywhere with you." Triss chuckled, following Yen from beside the fire to their bed against the wall, the chill of impending winter beginning to seep through the walls of Kaer Morhen.

With a wave of her hand, Yen stoked the flames of the fire, the warmth of it billowing around the room, staving off the chill and allowing them to drift off into restful slumber, safely wrapped in each other's arms.