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thebestworstidea · 11 months

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Double or Nothing

Another day, another noble who had more than enough money to pay out the promised contract refusing outright.

Jaskier supposed it was something that he'd even posted a contract, rather than throwing his men at arms at it. Said men at arms looked like they would much rather their lord pay the damn Witcher so he would stop looming in the hall. That was what Geralt was doing at the moment. Just looming. Staring at the lord with bright golden eyes, and saying nothing.

From where he was standing, Jaskier could see there was blood matting the back of his hair, and dust ground into the back of his armor. The monster had clearly thrown the Witcher quite hard into at least one wall.

The lord started in on something about property damage, and how he should charge them for it.

"Double or nothing."

"What?"

Geralt didn't say anything but the slight frown made it fairly clear that he agreed with the lord.

Strolling forward, Jaskier flicked a finger against a card-box on the table beside the lord.

"You're a Gwent player, right? I saw you playing after dinner, while I was serenading your household. Play a round, and if I win, you pay double the promised amount, and if I loose, we leave without further complaint. I won't even add your lands to 'the roll of the unworthy cheapskates'" Not one of his more popular tunes, it was sadly repetitive, but the common folk liked picking fun at their betters, so he played it at least once a month.

"If I win, he leaves and you stay another week." the lord counter offered.

"But if we win, double the promised fee."

"Yes."

"Very well." Jaskier dug in his bag, he was hardly as avid a player as Geralt, but the people who once upon a time created Gwent weren't as avid as Geralt.

"No, not you." The Lord waved his hand. "I know you artistic types, cheats and cardsharks the lot of you."

Jaskier gave an offended honk of a noise.

"My lord, there's no need for slander-"

"I'll play the Witcher." He jabbed a finger at Geralt, who had only had a few words for the lord since he accepted the contract.

Jaskier paused.

"Cheat indeed," he said, shoving the amusement threatening to come out in his voice away. "Wanting to play a concussed man. You don't even know if he plays. Do keep it fair, my lord."

"You made the challenge, I'll set the terms." He smirked "I'm sure he fights all your battles."

Geralt made a grunt of agreement and Jaskier made a face at him.

"Double or nothing." He repeated. "No tricks."

"My word on it." He waved a servant over and they brought a small table and a sturdy looking bench for Geralt to sit on that would put his head lower than the lord's. Quite short, given the difference in their statures. "And you, bard, stay were I can see you." he waved a hand. "Perhaps play something. Settle in." He shuffled his cards with practiced skill, clearly sure of his win.

Jaskier solemnly patted Geralt's shoulder before stepping back.

"I'm sure you'll do your best, dearheart."

Geralt hummed under his breath, and took out his deck with none of the flair of the lord.

"How did you know?"

They had left both keep and town straight away, as soon as the payment was in hand. They even took the river road rather than the trade road- less smooth and direct, but also less exposed and used.

"Pardon?" the bard kept his hold on Roach's saddle as he walked. This road was uneven and the light was dim.

"How did you know he would choose to play me."

"Oh. I. Uh. I didn't. I was going to play him."

There was a pause.

"I'm glad it didn't come to that." Geralt said with a remarkable amount of tact for him.

"Well, to be fair, he was right. I was going to cheat."

#The Witcher #willow is writing #flash fiction #just sit down and let the words dump onto the screen #and fume because I'm supposed to be writing something else #geralt of rivia #jaskier

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sleepingthestral · 1 year

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Don’t mind me, I’m just going to go punch the ever-loving fuck out of every object in sight.

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mischievous-thunder · 2 years

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A shopkeeper: So, what's the occasion?

Geralt: I'm looking for something to cheer up the wife.

The shopkeeper, glancing at Yennefer: Why don't I ask the missus?

Yennefer, pointing at a fuming Jaskier in the distance: Do you think our wife is in the mood for a conversation?

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fandom-junk-drawer · 1 year

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The Witcher Headcanon - Accent

Jaskier has a Northern accent that he works really hard to hide. He learned early on that most people, especially among the nobility, considered Northerners to be lower than peasants. A Northern accent was a black mark on the person, labeling them as bumpkins or hill folk.

Jaskier saw how anyone with an accent even remotely close to Northern was ridiculed and bullied both inside and outside of Court. So he spent a lot of time practicing speaking in a Court accent until he perfected it.

By the time he went off to study in Oxenfurt, he had become comfortable with the new accent, and it sounded completely natural. He didn't have to worry about being looked down on, or ridiculed, and he discovered that a lot of people found a Court accent attractive.

But there was always that fear that he was going to slip and some one would find out about his Northern accent. He was terrifed when he started following Geralt, and when he met Yennefer.

Geralt never said anything, but he could hear that Jaskier's accent wasn't natural. There were slight differences in inflection, and pronunciation, and tiny inconsistencies that normal humans would never notice but a Witcher's sensitive ears easily picked up on. Whatever the reason was for the affectation was none of Geralt's business.

The more time Geralt spent with Jaskier, the more he noticed the little slips in this Court accent. He figured out the reason for the fake accent when he started hearing his real accent come through.

Geralt remembered the first time Jaskier's accent had slipped out.

The had made camp after a long day of entertaining at the town festival. Jaskier had been very tired, and he was upset about a few things Valdo Marx had said to him. He'd laughed it off, turning the insults and insinuations into an improv song that had the crowd laughing and cheering him boistrously before sweeping him away to the closest inn for a round of drinks while Valdo stood fuming impotently.

But now that they were alone, he'd allowed himself to feel the hurt, and his accent had taken on a sing-songy quality, and he'd gone hard on his T's for a second when he referred to Valdo Marx as "that b**tart!"

Oh, f**k!

Jaskier internally panicked the second he realized he'd dropped his affected accent. Ok, calm down! Maybe he didn't hear. You know he tunes you out most of the time. Act natural, pretend like everything is normal!

Jaskier continued rummaging through his pack, sneaking a quick glance at Geralt while continuing to insult Valdo as he shook out his bedroll, flapping the blanket aggresssively before laying it out. Geralt seemed oblivious, his attention on gathering deadfall for the fire and digging out the fire pit.

Jaskier allowed himself to breathe a silent sigh of relief. The Witcher hadn't noticed. Thank all the gods!

Geralt was scraping out a little pit for the fire when he heard Jaskier drop his accent for just a second. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the bard freeze for a split second, and Geralt calmly continued with his task as if he hadn't noticed. All the while he was thinking "He has a Northern accent! No wonder he sounds off sometimes!"

From then on, Geralt started really listening, intrigued and wanting to hear more of his real voice. He caught little snatches of it here and there, mostly when Jaskier was drunk, tired, upset, or excited. Or when he thought he was alone, and was composing a song or poem.

Geralt was always careful to never let on that he noticed when that lovely, sing-songy accent slipped out. It was hard, forcing himself to keep that big stupid smile off his face that threatened to come out whenever he heard Jaskier 'go Northern'.

When Yennefer came into the picture, Jaskier was on edge, constantly on guard to keep his Northern accent hidden. She was the last person he wanted to find out about it.

She already hates me. No reason to make her think I'm stupid, too!

He did an excellent job of hiding it, not wanting to give the witch any ammunition in their perpetual war of words. He finally bonded with her, saw her as family like he did Geralt, and he doubled down on keeping his accent a secret.

He could talk to her about anything, show her every side of him, like he could with Geralt, but the accent was one thing he did not want to share. He was terrified that she would look at him differently. That both of them would. He didn't think his heart would survive that.

Yennefer had been fighting for her life the first time she heard Jaskier's Northern accent come out.

Jaskier had caught a fever while performing in one of the towns. He was delirious, and Yennefer had been getting him to drink a potion and he'd just completely dropped his affected accent as he started talking random nonsense to her.

She had paused as she was tucking him back in, staring at him in disbelief as he chattered on.

Yennefer had squealed in lowercase.

"Oh! My! Gods! He's, he's got a-!"

"Northern accent. I know. He's been faking a Court accent-!"

"I know what it is, and it's f***ing cute!"

"Gods you sound like a giddy little maid!"

"Like you can say anything, Geralt, when you're standing there grinning like a boy who's just gotten his first peek at a pair of tits!"

Yennefer and Geralt never let on that they knew, and it bothered them that Jaskier didn't seem to feel like he could trust them. They understood why he was hiding it, though, so they satisfied themselves with enjoying the rare times when it slipped out.

It was not heavy, like many Northerners' accents were. Jaskier's accent was lighter, more delicate, but it did tend to get heavier when he was in an emotional state.

They did their best to pretend they didn't notice the little lapses, but they couldn't help but smile when it happened. And Jaskier eventually figured out that they both knew--had known for a while.

Yennefer had run into them in town, and they were having dinner in their room at the inn. Jaskier had been chattering on about how one of his sets had gone, and he'd gotten a little too excited. Yennefer's eyes had gone soft and...and sparkly, and she'd glanced at Geralt, whose face was lit up with the sunniest smile which he was desperately trying to hide behind his tankard of ale.

OhHhH f**K, tHeY'd hEaRd iT!!!! He froze, going stock still. Any minute now, they were going to start lauging at him.

Geralt just smiled and took another drink while Yennefer just kept looking at him with that, that adoring look. That was when he knew.

"When?" Jaskier had asked, mortified after he realized.

Geralt had swallowed his ale with a thoughtful 'Hm' and replied. "A few days after you started following me around. Your accent sounded off, but I wasn't sure why. Figured it out after you started b*tching about Valdo Marx one night."

Jaskier mentally kicked himself. Of course a Witcher would have been able to tell!

"And you?", he asked Yennefer

"That time you had that bad fever. You babbled on in the most intriguing accent about everything under the heavens. We got to listen to it for two whole days!"

Jaskier hid his face in his hands, dinner forgotten as he slid down in his chair with an embarrassed groan.

"Why didn't you say anything?"

"Because we knew why you were hiding it, Lark", Yennefer said, "I've been in Court. I know how the nobility are."

"You don't have to hide it anymore. Not around us," Geralt said.

"You...you don't think I sound...stupid?"

Yennefer tapped him on the head with her empty plate as she walked by, "No, you little b*llend! It's sing-songy and cute, and you sound adorable!"

It took him some time, but he was finally able to let himself relax and stop using the adopted accent with Yennefer and Geralt.

He would forget sometimes, because he was a performer, and an act could be hard to put aside. Especially if it had helped you survive for so many years.

It would sometimes take an hour or two after a long day of performing for the public for Geralt and Yennefer's 'Sing-Songy Twit' to relax enought to drop the Court accent and be himself. And when he did, one of them would always say warmly "There you are, Jaskier!"

#the witcher #the witcher headcanon #the witcher netflix #twn #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #geraskier #geraskifer #geraskefer #yenskier #yennskier #yenneskier #yennaskier #accent headcanon

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all-or-nothing-baby · 1 year

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LAVENDER MILK AND BLACKBERRY WINE

The first time they share a room together at an inn, Jaskier is, unsurprisingly, completely at ease with—well. With everything.

The bard is so comfortable in these surroundings, obviously much more at home with soft bed linens and oil lamps than a patch of damp grass and only the light of a yellow-y moon. Jask is seemingly still so at ease with Geralt, too, even in such close quarters. He's apparently also completely unbothered by his own stark nakedness as he now shamelessly strips down entirely, readying himself for a warm and replenishing lavender milk bath and a cup or ten of blackberry wine.

The witcher watches the bard, whilst trying not to.

Geralt's cat-eyes very much struggle to stop following pale and slender limbs as they swirl around like dragonflies in the fragrant steam that now sits heavy and hot in the midst of their small room. Jaskier prances and preens and eventually melts like jam in porridge into the bath's soothing waters. The eternal bard then, of course, proceeds to prattle on and away about something and nothing and everything, occasionally breaking out into broken verses of half‐baked songs.

Geralt—sat sharpening his blades— sometimes grunting in occasional outward acknowledgement, sometimes not, keeps trying his damned best not to look.

He fails.

Jaskier sips long and often from his cup, the wine leaving his full mouth lacquered. Plum‐stained. Inviting.

Geralt watches still, swallowing whole cupfuls at a time of the sweetened fruit wine, thickly and far too fast.

The bard is then nonchalantly asking Geralt if Geralt would like to maybe join him in the tub?

Geralt pulls a face with fake disdain, huffing and puffing his cowedly decline.

Very obviously trying not to smile, Jaskier purses those berry‐smacked lips of his and merely blinks at Geralt for a few moments, just. Looking. Or looking back, seeing as Geralt—even red-faced and fuming as he is—simply cannot look away.

Jask allows himself a small, secretive smile, like he knows something Geralt wants to, then shrugs it off and says, not unkindly, "Suit yourself."

Geralt immediately hurls himself out of the room with the force of an enraged Archgriffin, the excuse of purchasing more wine a most welcome gods-send.

"Hurry back, dear witcher!" Jaskier's torment floats after him.

On his way down the staircase to the main part of the inn, Geralt bites into his bottom lip so fucking hard he's tasting iron for the rest of the hellish evening.

#s l o w l y moving stuff over from my old blog #here's another ficlet #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #witcher fic #geraskier fic #geraskier ficlet #white wolves and blushing bards #the witcher #aonb writes #all-or-nothing-baby

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poledancingdinos · 1 year

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Lightweight

Pairing: Young!Syverson X OFC (Maddie)

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Angst, Alcohol, Hurt/Comfort

Taglist: @amberangel112 @utterlyhopeful-fics @marantha @kebabgirl67 @littleone65 @omgkatinka @luclittlepond @elizabetharegina @enchantedbytomandhenry @narnianaos @geralts-yenn @peaches1958 @avengersfan25

A/N: Working my way through my abandoned WIPs. This one was originally a milestone celebration challenge based off the prompt "Should you be drinking that much?"

Masterlist

Sy’s friends had insisted that on his last Friday night of freedom, a bonfire party was compulsory. He could think of a few other things he’d prefer to be doing like having dinner with his mama or spending the night with a certain little lady, but at least the thrum of the party crowd would keep his mind occupied.

Maddie was the only person missing and Sy knew as soon as he heard the car door that she’d finally arrived. He approached from behind as his oldest friend poured copious amounts of liquor into a red plastic cup.

“Woah there, lightweight, you might wanna pace yourself,” Sy teased, throwing an arm around her shoulders. He’d intended to pull her into a hug but Maddie instantly jerked away from his touch, slamming the forty ounce down on the table and turning to face him. “I can drink whatever the hell I want, Sy!”

He was fixed in place, mouth agape, as he watched her storm off to the porch. Her best friend, Ashley, walked into the kitchen just as Madison left, pulling a beer from the fridge.

“What the devil’s gotten into her tonight?” Sy asked, frowning in the direction Madison had run off. She was normally so quiet and reserved — he could count on one hand the number of times she’d raised her voice at him and it had never been undeserved.

“You mean she didn’t tell you either? I thought for sure you’d have been the first one she confided in. I had to drag it out of her in the car.”

Sy finally broke his gaze away from the yard, looking over his shoulder at Ashley. “What are you talkin’ about?”

Her beer hissed as she twisted the top off the bottle and wordlessly offered one to Sy. “You know that position she interviewed for at her work? The promotion?”

Sy nodded, accepting the bottle. “Yeah, I remember her sayin’ it was a good raise, better benefits…”

Ashley leaned her forearms on the counter, picking at the corner of the paper label with her nail.

“Well, she got passed up for it. They gave it to some other guy and the explanation was that she was ‘overqualified for that specific position’.”

“What kind of bullshit is that? If she’s overqualified for a promotion, isn’t she then also over qualified for her current job?” Sy demonstrated his annoyance by downing half of the cold liquid in one go.

“I agree, it’s bullshit. For now, she’s stuck as an entry-level associate with no insurance, shit pay and working twice as much as the people above her in the food chain. I keep telling her to quit but she’s convinced nobody would want to hire her.”

Sy was silently fuming, shaking his head. “Why wouldn’t she tell me any of this?”

He was angry at her dumbass boss for not realizing how amazing she was, but he was also hurt that she hadn’t told him herself. Didn’t she know that she meant everything to him? Did she think he wouldn’t care?

Normally when he was home on leave they spent every spare second together. This last week she’d been uncharacteristically withdrawn and now he knew why.

“I don’t know, Sy. You’d have to ask her that.” She gave him a sympathetic smile, stepping away to join the rest of the guests.

Sy looked out of the little window over the sink, eyes trailing over the yard until he found the girl he was seeking sitting in a chair on the far side of the yard. It was already getting late, the warm mid-summer sun having fully set. One of the guys was adding another log to the glowing embers in the fire pit.

He fought with himself, debating whether he should go talk to her, but the opportunity was lost when the rest of the girls gathered around the fire and took up the remaining camping chairs. He watched from afar, seeing her take a sip from her overfull cup every other sentence. In only a few minutes, the cup was set upside down on the ground and one of Sy’s friends shoved a shot glass full of tequila into her hand.

Sy’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his name being called. Realizing that he couldn’t spend his going away party hiding in the kitchen, he downed the remaining beer, setting the empty by the sink and trading the quiet of the kitchen for the medley of excited voices of the yard.

About an hour later, more camping chairs were added around the fire and the boys settled between the ladies. Of course, yet another round of shots was passed around and Maddie threw back not only hers but the one meant for the girl beside her as well.

Sy knew it wasn’t his place to say anything, that she was her own person and fully capable of making her own decision, but the look on her face compelled him to speak up. She was normally a happy drunk. Give that girl a few glasses of sweet wine and she turned into this cute, giggly ball of sunshine but instead she was hunched down in her chair, not really paying attention to the others around them except when they waved alcohol in her face.

When she stood on shaky legs to head back into the kitchen, Sy followed.

“Should you be drinking that much?” he asked, startling her so badly she dropped the liquor bottle which landed on the counter with a loud bang. Thankfully, it was still screwed shut and didn’t shatter on impact.

“I— I can do wh’tever the hell I want.”

“That’s true,” he conceded, moving closer. “But just ‘cause ya can, don’t mean you gotta make yourself sick.”

“Fuck off, you’re just ‘nother guy trying to tell me what I can or can’t do. Only time guys ever talk t’me these days is to bark orders.”

Sy had never seen her act in that way before and, frankly, he didn’t know what to make of it. He had a hard time believing it was only her job making her so upset. Or maybe she had more to drink than usual and this was just what excessive alcohol did to her.

Whatever the reason, he hated seeing her so upset. “I’m not barkin’ orders, Squirt, I’m looking out for your safety.”

He’d meant his tone to be soothing but it had the opposite effect.

“Don’t call me that!” Maddie snapped. She secretly hated when he called her “squirt”, it was a constant reminder that she was nothing more than an annoying little sister to him.

“Been callin’ ya Squirt for damn near fifteen years, that ain’t gonna change now.”

She scoffed, attempting to march away but only making it two feet before stumbling and nearly falling flat on her face. Sy caught her just in time but she was less than grateful.

“I don’t need you… I don’t need your help.”

He sighed, getting frustrated with the bratty behavior.

“Look, I heard about the job and I’m real sorry about that but you’re actin’ like it’s me you’re angry with, and for the life of me, I don’t know why.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter does it?” She hiccuped. “‘Cause you’ll be gone and I’ll be here and I’ll be stuck with just myself! I don’t even like my job, I just wanted to have something, fucking anything, in my life to keep my mind off the fact that I’m stuck here worrying that the guy I love, who doesn’t even love me back, might never come home and that then I really will be all alone!”

The young woman sobbed in his arms, her chest heaving as she tried to steady her breath after her furious ranting. Sy went over her words in his head, his mind playing catch up.

“What was that about a guy?”

Maddie’s eyes went wide but she didn’t answer, instead planting her palms against Sy’s chest and slipping out of his arms. She made a beeline for the front door and Sy chased after her, hoping like hell she wasn’t thinking about getting in her car and driving off.

“No, we’re not goin’ that way,” he said as he wrapped an arm around Maddie’s waist. “Come on, let’s get you to a bed.”

Had it been anyone else, those words would have sent a terrified shiver down her spine but this was Sy.

Sy who’d been her friend since they were kids.

Sy who knew her better than she knew herself.

Sy who gave all her boyfriends the “if you hurt her, I’ll beat your ass” speech.

Sy whose embrace made Maddie feel like she meant something yet always looked as disinterested as if he’d hugged his sister once he let go.

“Fine,” she eventually agreed.

Maddie allowed Sy to lead her up the steps and into the house’s only guest bedroom. He always stayed with a friend when he was on leave since his mama had moved out of state.

But if she slept in Sy’s bed, where was he going to sleep?

“Right here to make sure you don’t suffocate in your sleep.”

It seemed she’d asked that last question out loud.

Maddie dropped onto the mattress, immediately regretting it when her head spun from the bounce. She turned her back to Sy, intent on ignoring his presence but then the bed dipped and Sy pulled her into his chest.

They hadn’t shared a bed since they were children and his mother had to work the graveyard shift. Though she had fallen asleep with her head on his lap a time or two and they had always greeted each other with hugs, cuddling was not something they had ever done before.

“That guy you said you love,” Sy whispered, pressing a cheek to the top of her head, “why do you think he doesn’t love you back?”

“Because he doesn’t. He never has. If he did, he’d have asked me out by now.”

Sy tightened his embrace, stroking a soothing hand up and down Maddie’s arm. “See darlin’, I think he loves you just as much as you love him. I think he didn’t want to tell you because he thought it would hurt too much to leave you behind.”

“So I was right. I am alone.”

“No,” he said. “You’re never alone, Maddie. He loves you. He’s loved you for years. Even when he’s away, all he can think about is you.”

Sy prayed that her alcohol addled brain could understand what he was trying to say. He’d already spent that long chickening out every time he got the chance to confess his feelings, he wasn’t sure he would be able to do it all over again.

“Then why does he keep leaving?”

“‘Cause lovin’ ya also means he wants to keep you safe.” Sy gently tipped Maddie’s head up catching her gaze. “This is just somethin’ I gotta do right now, Sweetheart. I wish I didn’t have to leave you but I do have to go.”

Finally getting a good look at her, Sy realized she had dark circles under her eyes, suggesting she hadn’t gotten much sleep in the last few days. He hoped that his impending deployment wasn’t the cause but based on what she had just said, it might very well have been. Her eyelids kept falling shut but she seemed to be fighting hard to stay awake and finish the conversation.

“Get some sleep, Sweetheart. We can finish this in the morning. I’ll be right here all night, okay?”

“I’m scared for you, Sy,” she mumbled, nuzzling into his chest and clinging to his shirt.

He placed a gentle kiss on her forehead. “I know, I’m scared too.”

How could he not be scared? It was his first deployment, he had no idea what to expect. He looked down at the woman now sleeping softly on his chest. At least now he had something to look forward to once he returned home.

#captain syverson #captain syverson x ofc #captain syverson fic #captain syverson fanfic #captain syverson fanfiction #henry cavill

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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 2 years

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for the touches ask game, may I request geraskier + 26 (kisses) please? 🥺

26. giggling while kissing

Here’s a Geraskier modern with magic AU loosely inspired by this amazing video of a pole-dancing Jaskier that’s been all over Tumblr for the last couple of days. No warnings, rated M for mild horniness.

It's nearly midnight when Geralt makes it back to his apartment building, limping a little as his bum knee protests the cold weather and getting thrown through a wall by a katakan earlier that day.

He would have been home earlier, but he's gotten into the habit of showering at Eskel and Lambert's place before returning home after the time he tracked selkiemore guts all over the lobby and the concierge looked like he was going to pass out. It never mattered when he lived in his shitty studio in Silverton, but since moving into Jaskier's swanky Gildorf penthouse, he has to be careful not to get innards and ichor on the gleaming marble floors.

Geralt nods to the concierge, who has never forgiven him for the selkiemore incident, as he passes. The man gives him a cool look and returns to reading his book, which is just as well. Geralt has been tracking a katakan for the better part of a week with Eskel and Lambert and he doesn't have the energy for the kind of polite small talk Jaskier excels at.

Instead, he gets into the elevator and puts in the code for the top floor penthouse, closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the wall. Jaskier never responded to Geralt's text telling him he was on his way back, so he's probably in bed by now. Geralt will have to be careful not to disturb him; his boyfriend gets cranky when his beauty sleep is interrupted.

The elevator doors open and Geralt is hit with a wall of sound. It's one of Jaskier's songs, blaring at full volume as Jaskier wails about the mercilessness of Cupid’s arrow. As if on cue, an arrow comes flying past Geralt, hitting the wall behind him. Geralt is already reaching for his sword when it hits him that no assassin he knows would use pink, sparkly arrows with heart-shaped arrowheads that stick to the wall.

"Geralt! You're home!"

Geralt wonders if the blood loss got to him before remembering that he didn't actually lose any blood on this hunt. Because a pole has been erected in the middle of his living room, right where there was once a coffee table that cost more than his car. Hanging onto it is Jaskier, wearing nothing but a pair of dinosaur-patterned boxer briefs and a quiver of pink arrows, holding a bow.

"What the fuck?" Geralt asks. The elevator door starts to close and he just has the presence of mind to step out of the elevator before it takes him back down to the lobby. Only after the doors have closed does he remember the arrow stuck to the wall. Oh well, the concierge already hates them.

"How was your hunt?" Jaskier is hanging upside down from the pole, his thighs and abdomen quivering with the effort.

“Why the fuck is there a pole in the middle of our living room?” Geralt demands, shouting to be heard over the music.

“I’m practicing for my Midsummer Music Awards performance.”

“Don’t you have stunt doubles for that?”

“Stunt doubles are all well and good for music videos, but not for live performances.” Jaskier winces as he slides down the pole an inch.

Geralt sighs, puts down his gear, and goes to turn the music off. “Is this about Valdo Marx’s stunt last year?”

“What?” Jaskier squawks, as if he hadn’t spent weeks fuming over the publicity surrounding Valdo Marx’s on-stage acrobatics last year, which had involved flaming batons and very little clothing—which seemed like a bad idea to Geralt, but what did he know? He was just a witcher, not an award-winning musician. “Of course not. This is about artistic integrity and… okay, and showing Valdo fucking Marx what a real performance looks like.”

“Hm.” Geralt lets his eyes wonder. “Your fans will love the dinosaur boxers. Or are you going to dress up like a sexy Cupid?”

His boyfriend doesn’t dignify that with a response. “I’m actually getting pretty good with the bow and arrow.”

Geralt glances at the target, which is a good yard away from the elevator doors. “I can see that.”

Jaskier harrumphs and reaches for the quiver of sparkly arrows. The movement is too much for his legs’ tenuous grip on the pole and with a squeak of alarm, he begins to slide.

Geralt is there before he can hit the ground, scooping him up and spinning him around. Jaskier flails for a moment, not registering the fact that he isn’t still falling, before he wraps his legs around Geralt’s waist and his arms around Geralt’s shoulders. He clears his throat, cheeks pink. Geralt’s knee twinges a bit at the weight in his arms, but it’s worth it for Jaskier’s adorably sheepish expression.

“I meant to do that,” Jaskier says primly.

Geralt fights to keep his expression serious. “Clearly.”

“I could tell you wanted an excuse to cuddle. So I provided.”

“Noble of you.”

“Well, if nobility were still a thing in Redania, I would be a viscount, darling.”

“I had no idea. You’ve never mentioned that.”

“You know me. I don’t like to brag.”

They look at each other for a minute, Jaskier still wrapped around Geralt as tightly as he’d been wrapped around the pole.

Jaskier begins to laugh first, little snorting giggles that are nothing like the booming laugh he always affects when they’re out in public. Geralt can’t resist the giggles, as much as he tries; his shoulders start to shake with his own suppressed laughter, which only makes Jaskier giggle harder. Jaskier leans his forehead against Geralt’s and Geralt is helpless to do anything but kiss him. It’s far from their most elegant kiss, with both of them unable to stop laughing, but it’s all the sweeter for it.

“I am wearing a sexy Cupid costume for the show,” Jaskier says between kisses, still giggling.

Geralt nuzzles his cheek, breathing in the scent of him. Gods, he always misses this when he’s away on contracts. “With wings?”

“Of course! What’s a sexy Cupid without wings?”

“Cupids don’t exist. Sexy or otherwise.”

“Thank you, I’ll be sure to put a disclaimer before all my performances from now on.”

“Hm.”

“I can go get the costume.” Jaskier draws back to waggle his eyebrows. “Give you the full show.”

Geralt is surprised by how tempting that is.

“Or.” Jaskier’s lips twitch in that way they always do when he’s very proud of whatever terrible innuendo he’s about to make. “I could just slide down your pole.”

Geralt arches an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, come on.” Jaskier waggles his eyebrows. “It’s only fair. I nearly shot you with my arrow earlier. It’s time for you to shoot me with yours.”

“That makes no sense,” Geralt deadpans.

“Geralt.” Jaskier tries to look long-suffering, even as he starts to giggle again. “I’m obviously talking about your—”

Geralt cuts him off with a kiss, muffling his snorts of laughter. “You’re not half as funny as you think you are.”

“That still makes me pretty damn funny.”

“Sure.”

Jaskier wiggles in his arms. “Just for that, you don’t get to see my bow and—Geralt!” He cackles as Geralt throws him over his shoulder and starts towards the bedroom. “You fiend! You shouldn’t manhandle the man holding a crossbow!”

“Not a crossbow, Jask.”

“You shouldn’t manhandle the man holding some kind of bow!”

“It would be more threatening if you knew what kind of bow it was. Or had managed to hit the target.”

“Oh, just you wait, witcher,” Jaskier says as Geralt pushes his way into the bedroom. “As soon as I manage to hit a target, you will be the first to know.”

“Especially if I’m standing ten feet away from the target.”

“What are you implying?”

Geralt laughs and gently drops Jaskier on the bed to kiss him again, cutting off his outraged babble. Later, he thinks he’ll enjoy watching Jaskier’s dance routine, Cupid outfit and all. He won’t even mind if he accidentally gets shot with one of the fake arrows. But for now, this is all he needs—the curve of Jaskier’s smile against his cheek, Jaskier’s bright laughter in his ears, and the knowledge that he’s right where he’s supposed to be.

Tag list: @kueble @maya-the-yellow-bee @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek

Touches Ask Game

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ghost's writing #prompt fills

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iris-sistibly · 1 year

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The Witcher but make it modern part 2

Ciri just had her first heartache after finding out her jerk of an ex-boyfriend cheated on her with her ex-bff.

Geralt is the fearsome witcher with a soft spot for his pup, he's the type of parent who would listen to how Ciri found out about her asshole ex's ugly ass side chick while she chows down a pint of chocolate ice cream. Ciri ends up asking, "Am I not enough?"

"You are more than enough Cirilla, he is the one who isn't good enough for you."

Then proceeds to give her a comforting hug because she needs it.

Yennefer is the typical mama who would be like,

"I told you he's trash!" and "Block him and that bitch!"

then proceeds to lecture Ciri about how shitty people can be which is why it is incredibly important to be careful who she trusts. But Yen is also the one who encourages her daughter to love herself a little more because seriously, she doesn't need anyone else to define her worth *insert lyrics of "Flowers" by Miley Cyrus* She never fails to check on Ciri from time to time, and Yen always...ALWAYS tell her how much she and her two dads love her and will always be there for her.

Jaskier was just fuming with rage,

"WHO THE FUCK DOES HE THINK HE IS MAKING OUR BABY CRY?! CIRI, I SWEAR TO THE GODS THAT ASSHOLE WILL NEVER SEE THE LIGHT OF DAY! I WILL CUT HIS BALLS OFF! I WILL AVENGE YOU MY DARLING. HE BROKE YOUR HEART, I'LL GIVE HIM HELL!!! *insert low, raspy voice* THIS. IS. WAR."

A/N: This is just another random AU scene that keeps popping in my brain every now and then. I was actually thinking of writing an expanded version of this scene but I'm feeling lazy af so I'll leave this here 😂😂😂 Also, Ciri is already studying at a university in this timeline 😁.

#netflix series #the witcher #andrzej sapkowski #henry cavill #anya chalotra #freya allan #joey batey #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #cirilla of cintra #cirilla fiona elen riannon #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskefer

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greyshadowfaux · 1 year

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Any Hat in a Storm

Peering around the corner, Lambert ensures the coast is clear before pushing open the door to Geralt's room. The bastard always gets the best contracts during the year, and Lambert knows his brother has an affinity for sweet things, so he makes a beeline for the discarded bags, stowed in the corner of the bedroom.

While he doesn't find any sweets, Lambert's fingers graze something soft, buried in the bottom of Geralt's bag. Pulling the item out with a grin, Lambert decides this is much better than sweets.

'Ahoy there, good fellows!' He calls, stepping into the hall. Geralt and Eskel are engrossed in a game of Gwent at the table, their tankards of ale half empty and leaving stained rings on the worn wood, and Vesemir is settled in by the fire, reading an old leather-bound book that smells like dust.

Looking up from his cards, Eskel snorts with laughter, the scar pulling at his lip as he smiles. 'What the hell are you wearing on your head?'

'Do you like it?' Lambert asks, turning his head this way and that, to show off his latest treasure.

With a growl, Geralt throws down his cards and stands, fuming. 'Lambert, for fucks sake! Stay out of my bags!'

Dodging Geralt with a joyful glee, Lambert bounds around the room, the donkey ears wobbling on his head. Geralt's pinked cheeks only add to the fun that Lambert has as he dances out of Geralt's reach.

Picking up his book again, Vesemir sighs. 'At least he's not wearing my hat.'

Inspired by Geralt's Ass Ears from the Witcher 3

#Lambert likes hats #witcher geralt #witcher eskel #witcher vesemir #witcher lambert #the witcher wild hunt

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basket-of-cats-and-witches · 1 year

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Of Mandrake and Mischief

....Don’t ask. This is the fault of someone from Discord. You know who you are.

This is mostly based off of The Witcher 3. But with Jaskier, the better version. Mostly just people just absolutely fucking around with Lambert. hints of Aiden/Lambert with a sprinkle of geraskier. Don’t...don’t come after me for this.

“Cocksucking arsewiping cockatrice fucking shitstained son of a bitch!” Lambert stomped around his laboratory, searching for something on his desk. “I swear I fucking added that rat piss to the distillate two days ago, it should have- fuck!” Aiden poked his head in the doorway. He was quickly learning that sound carried easily in Kaer Morhen, especially with…Jaskier and Geralt. Some things didn’t change, no matter what school you were from. “Lamb? What’s wrong?” Lambert whirled, his expression like thunder. “Aiden,” he said dangerously. “I lo- mmm. I care for you, dammit, and I need you to leave me alone right now. I’m going to stab something. Maybe even myself, if I’m feeling frisky. Now, where the fuck did I put those fucking notes? This should have worked! Maybe a hemlock and comfrey mixture next time, provided it doesn’t fucking burn my eyebrows off-” Aiden glanced down the hall, where Eskel was casually reading a book. He leaned against the wall, his face the picture of serenity. Strolling over, he tried to peer at the title, but there was none to be found. “Eskel, do you have any idea what’s got him so…” “Pissy?” Eskel glanced up from his book, over towards the partially open doorway. He hummed softly. “Might have something to do with my replacing his distillate with one of Vesemir’s failed mandrake cordials. They were relatively the same color.” Aiden blinked. “Why? Isn’t he going to notice?” The tall witcher flipped another page, the corner of his mouth twitching. “Lambert hides it well, but he killed off most of his sense of smell a few decades back. Tried to make a more ‘pure’ form of alcohest, only the fumes off it fried his nose. Geralt, Vesemir, and I had to camp out at the old tower for a few days while it cleared out. As for why?” His mouth twitched again as another flurry of swearing came from the laboratory. “A few days ago he used the kitchen for one of his experiments. Now there are scorch marks everywhere, and half the kitchen is unusable. That and Geralt, Vesemir, and I have a bet going on to see how long it is before he tries to drink the mixture to try and figure out what’s wrong with it.” Eskel smirked. “I think it’ll take him a few days.” Aiden sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “...I’ll put five crowns on a week.” Eskel closed the book, giving Aiden an appraising look. “You’re not so bad, Cat.” He strolled off. As he did, Aiden realized that just inside the front cover, the book had read Property of Lambert.

#The Witcher 3 #lambert #aiden #eskel #my writing

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jaytodd1129 · 2 years

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feeling petty today.

feeling like reading post-season 2 fic in which jaskier and yennefer become friends with benefits to comfort each other after geralt broke their hearts and geralt is insanely jealous but can't do anything about it cause?? hello?? he was the one that discarded THEM?? in the first place??

jaskier and yennefer starting off their fwb relationship impulsively: as two people feeling shitty and underappreciated and run down and taking comfort in each other's bodies with the most unlikely ally in a flurry of movement, hungry hands, and hastily thrown clothes. once it's done, they both look at each other first in alarm and then in a "huh.. you know what? i can't believe i'm saying this but that wasn't half bad" way. It becomes a habit after that.

eventually it becomes less frantic, and it becomes sweeter, more intimate. they start sharing little bits of information after sex sessions. opening up, sharing their feelings. yennefer doesn't kick jaskier out the very second they're done, and one night when she's particularly vulnerable, jaskier actually gets her to cuddle with him and they drift to sleep and neither wakes up until the next day. jaskier tries sneaking out of her room in the wee hours of the morning but of course lambert or something sees him and doesn't miss a beat to relay what he saw very off-handedly to geralt during breakfast which makes me man absolutely fume.

jaskier and yennefer becoming the duo that makes no sense to anybody, nobody can figure out what their relationship is. is it romantic? is it platonic? is it purely sexual or is there feelings of friendship there? it drives everyone, especially geralt absolutely crazy.

#yenskier #geraskier #yenralt #just imagine jaskier sneaking into yennefer's room at night and geralt noticing for the first time and feeling that first bitter stab #of unbridled jealousy #geralt of rivera #jaskier #dandelion #yennefer of vengerberg #julian alfred pankratz

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fandom-junk-drawer · 4 months

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The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found: Bonus Scene - Part 10

Jaskier wandered the aisles of the grocery store, his third of the grocery list in hand. He had managed to convince Yennefer that the supply run would go faster if they split up.

Yennefer hadn't been too thrilled about the idea of Jaskier running around loose by himself, but they were trying to get to Kaer Morhen to visit Vesemir and Peepers, and Jaskier's suggestion had actually been logical.

Plus, she just couldn't say no. Not when he had looked at her with those puppy eyes, and turned up the charm level. And it didn't help that he'd gotten his hair cut and had gone from the Sexy Long Hair, back to the short style Yennefer called his Babygirl Hair.

They joined the line for the register, adding a few drinks and snacks to their basket while they waited.

Geralt was standing in line, hiding in his ratty Emotional Support hoodie, when he felt Jaskier nudge him. He turned to see the bard holding up two plastic packages and smiling mischieviously.

Giant Stickly Hands

Geralt gave him a slight smile in return, and turned around to distract Yennefer so Jaskier could slip them in amongst the other items.

Several minutes later, and they were back on the road.

Jaskier sat in the front passenger's seat and opened the Giant Sticky Hand. He swung it around, slapping it on random surfaces as he got a feel for it. He slapped it against the inside of the windshield a few times, giggling at the sound it made.

He saw Geralt glancing longingly at the novelty toy while trying to keep his attention on the road.

Jaskier handed him his sticky hand, and opened the other one. Yennefer felt the van start swerving slightly and looked up to see the two idiots swinging giant sticky hands at each other.

"Jaskier, stop distracting him! Geralt, keep your d*mn eyes on the road! Melitele, you two tw*ts are going to cause an accident!"

The sticky hands disappeared. Until they stopped for lunch and a chance to stretch their legs.

Yennefer almost had a coniption when she found out Jaskier and Geralt had brought their giant sticky hands into the restauraunt. Geralt had come back to their booth after getting his drink, and Jaskier hand swung his arm and snapped the sticky hand right on Geralt's a**.

Geralt had pulled out his sticky hand and swung it at Jaskier. He missed, and it splatted on the acrylic booth divider next to Jaskier's head.

"You brought those d*mned thing in here? " Yennefer had whispered fiercely to them. "Put them away!" Gods, why did they always have to embarrass her in public? People were already staring!

Jaskier responded to her demand by being the menace that he was, and using the sticky hand to steal her paper napkin.

He and Geralt had started snuffling and snorting quietly, trying to hold back the laughter as Yennefer sat across from them, fuming in silent embarassment. The sticky hands yo-yo'ed in random directions as Geralt and Jaskier completely disregarded the death glare Yennefer was giving them.

Yennefer tried to ignore them and find her happy place so she could at least eat. She contemplated getting up and leaving both their a**es here; just walking out and using her magic to start the van and drive away. It would serve them right.

Geralt's sticky hand slapped right over Jaskier's mouth as he opened it to spoon his food into it. He made a humorous sound and pulled the sticky hand off, whisper laughing, "You f**ker!"

Geralt grinned smugly, then snuffled and almost spat out his onion rings when Jaskier's sticky hand landed in his lap. "B**stard!"

Yennefer almost laughed when, completely by accident, they slapped each other in the face at the same time.

Geralt looked at Jaskier

Jaskier looked at Geralt

The hands started rapidly flying in random directions, accompanied by a symphony of whispered noises.

Yennefer finally had to put her foot down after a sticky hand landed in her food.

She used their mental link and her Mom Voice. "Put those d*mned things away right f***ing now!"

Jaskier and Geralt both jumped at the sharp mental tone. It was pure wrath and the promise of swift and instant consequences if it was not obeyed.

But Jaskier, emboldened by the fact that they were in public, decided to F**k Around and Find Out.

"Make me!" he replied playfully, only to double over seconds later as Yennefer shoved the toe of her dress shoe into his crotch.

"F**k, my baws!" he whisper wheezed breathlessly.

Geralt immediately put his sticky hand away and focused on what was left of his meal. He did not want a foot to the balls too.

The rest of the meal was uneventful aside from Jaskier blowing his straw papers and throwing wadded up paper napkins at her.

Yennefer, unfortunately, had to stand in line, waiting to pay, while Geralt and Jaskier continued their Giant Sticky Hand fight.

Yennefer did her best to pretend like the two grown men behind her weren't acting like two feral 5 year olds. She was impressed with the register attendant's ability to keep a straight face and stay focused.

Once the bill had been settled, Yennefer quickly herded Geralt and Jaskier outside, where she immediately took each of them by an ear and strode determinedly to the van.

Geralt and Jaskier shuffled along beside her, bent over awkwardly and making various noises of discomfort.

"You embarrass me," she growled darkly, "And I will embarrass the ever living h*ll out of you!"

The few children in the parking lot moved closer to their parents and were suddenly very well behaved. They knew an angry Mum when they saw one. And they didn't want their Mum to get any ideas.

There were more than a few whispered questions of "Mum, why's that lady got those men by the ear?" And the simple reply of, "Because they weren't behaving, love".

Geralt and Jaskier did the Awkward Walk of Shame all the way to Roach.

Never had Geralt regretted his habit of parking far away from everyone more in his life.

Yennefer let them go when they reached the van, and Geralt immediately dug his keys out of his pocket and rushed to get out of the public eye.

Jaskier immediately opened his mouth because he had zero sense of self-preservation.

"What the hell, Yen, I-!" Jaskier began in righteous indignation, only to choke back the rest of what he was going to say when he saw the look on Yennefer's face as she snarled, biting out each word.

"Get. In. The. F***ing. Van. Julian."

"Yesma'am!"

They drove in silence for a while to give ruffled feathers time to settle.

Yennefer was sitting on the bed in the back, reading that book Madeleine had recommended when something smacked her on the side of the face. She yelped in surprise and dropped her book , swiping at her face.

Giant Sticky Hand.

Unbelievable.

"You kn*b head!" she snarled.

"That's for kicking me in the fork!" Jaskier laughed, then squealed, dropped the stickly hand, and started trying to get away from Yennefer.

"Hey, sit down back there!" Geralt snapped. He had to reduce his speed and do some counter steering when the van started rocking as Yennefer chased Jaskier around the inside of the van.

"Come here, you little sh*t!" Yennefer hollered, grabbing at the bard.

Jaskier was alternately laughing and gibbering as he dodged and jinked, weaved and twisted, trying to stay away from the angry witch.

Yennefer tripped him, and he fell face first in the gap betwixt the front seats. She was on him in a flash, smacking the back of his head, then ruthlessly pinching the first a**cheek she could reach.

Jaskier gave a muffled yelp and twisted onto his back, hands holding his nose. Yennefer's tone went from incensed, to worried.

"Oh, f**k! Are you alright?"

Jaskier didn't answer, he just kept groaning and holding his nose.

"Jaskier!"

"Is he alright?" Geralt inquired, trying to watch the road.

Jaskier got to his feet and started stumbling towards the bed, Yennefer following behind him.

"Jaskier! Julek! Julek, let me see!"

Jaskier turned around and slowly started moving his hands. Yennefer held her breath, guilt coiling in her chest as he moved his hands and revealed...

...his extended middle finger.

"You jacka**!" Yennefer hollered.

Geralt had to pull the van over and go save Jaskier as hands started flying.

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