Tumgik
#WitcherTorT2
silvertonguelover · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Day 1 SFW: Fall @witchertrickortreat
G: You'll catch a cold dummy!
J: But Geralt you'll also catch a cold, let's share.
G: I am Witcher not a baby.
Geralt did catch a cold. They were both infact babies. UwU💖 It's toddler themed Halloween on this account lol. 😅
313 notes · View notes
aghxst · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
@witchertrickortreat SFW day 1: Fall
277 notes · View notes
spellwing777 · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
I usually draw bat!Regis as an adorable fluffnugget, but...well, many of those same features that make him cute can also be T E R R I F Y I N G in a...different context. So, enjoy pre-sobriety Regis about to have a drink with his pork dinner, so to speak.
For the prompt 'bat'
@witchertrickortreat
198 notes · View notes
kueble · 1 year
Text
The Hunt
Here is my collab with @mysticcoyoteart for the @witchertrickortreat prompt “Hunt.”  I had a blast working with them!  You can find the amazing artwork HERE.
Explicit. Warnings: They’re animals. Bunny!Jaskier, wolf!Geralt, knotting, rough sex, chasing as foreplay, mild blood mention. 1,500 Words.
Geraskier
---
An eerie howl echoes through the forest, and Jaskier shivers as he drops to all fours.  As undignified as it seems, he’s simply faster this way.  Perhaps it’s a bit counterintuitive, since his goal is to get caught, but the longer the hunt lasts, the more worked up they both are.  Grinning, he pauses to rub his fur against a tree trunk - an effort to throw Geralt off his trail - before bouncing off in another direction.
The fall night is chilly, so much so that he almost longs for the doublet he left back at camp.  The first time they played like this, he hadn’t stripped down and lost a lovely emerald doublet to Geralt’s claws.  He certainly never made that mistake again.
The next howl is closer, and Jaskier knows it won’t be much longer before he’s caught.  Still, he swerves between the trees, darting back and forth to play the part of terrified prey.  The crack of a breaking branch sends another shiver down his spine.  That wasn’t far off, so he braces himself for the impact.
His heart is hammering in his chest, every instinct ingrained in him is shouting at him to keep running, not to get caught by the much larger predator, and Jaskier fucking loves it.  The added thrill of the chase always makes Geralt fuck him rougher than normal.
Suddenly, Jaskier is pounced on, his body slammed to the forest floor as Geralt crashes into him.  He lets out a startled squeak, but he’s grinning ear to ear when Geralt leans down to growl against the back of his neck.
“Dangerous out here for a tiny little thing like you,” Geralt says harshly, and Jaskier just whines in response.  Gone is his careful lover who lazily kissed him while he fingered himself open not an hour ago.
Melitele’s gorgeous tits, he thrives on it.
“Not so little,” Jaskier argues, bucking up against him, and Geralt snickers back at him.
“Cocky little bunny,” he says, grinding down against him.  Jaskier can feel his cock, already hard and out of its sheath, and he damn near drools as he pushes back into Geralt’s large frame.  Jaskier is completely surrounded by him, couldn’t get away if he wanted to.  So it’s a damn good thing he’s right where he wants to be.
“Big bad wolf,” Jaskier quips back, earning another low chuckle.
“Very big,” Geralt murmurs before leaning down to nip the back of Jaskier’s neck.
He whines, already on edge as Geralt rakes his massive teeth over his fur.  It would be so easy for Geralt to hurt him, would barely take any energy at all to sink those teeth into his throat, and just the danger of it makes Jaskier’s cock throb.
“You’re already close, aren’t you?” Geralt asks, snorting as he grinds his cock against Jaskier’s slicked-up hole.
“You know how easy I am, love,” Jaskier laughs back, trailing off into a broken moan when the head of Geralt’s cock catches on his rim.  He leans down, his ears brushing against the ground, and tries to hold himself back.
Geralt, the delightful bastard, just reaches between them and rubs the back of a claw against Jaskier’s entrance.  The cold shock of it has him coming, shouting hoarsely as he spills on the dirt beneath them.  His little cock throbs as it washes over him, his back arching and arms shaking as he rides it out.
“Easy prey,” Geralt says, his hot breath ghosting the side of Jaskier’s face.  He can hear the grin in his voice, and knows he must look absolutely feral right now.  And then Geralt sniffs the air, taking in the scent of him, and Jaskier whimpers as he realizes he’s getting off on the smell of his spend.
“Always happy to be caught by you,” Jaskier says as soon as he catches his breath.  The good thing about rabbits are they may come easily, but they don’t ever stop.  His cock is still hard, and he’s ready to go again.
Geralt nuzzles him - the softness a stark contrast to their taunts - and then Jaskier feels the thick press of him against his hole again.  He braces himself, fingers practically digging into the dirt, and Geralt thankfully doesn’t tease him much longer.
The first press of him is always overwhelming.  Jaskier feels like there’s no way his prick will fit inside of him, like just the head is enough to tear him apart. He’s well trained by now, though, and once Geralt pops inside, he slowly breaches him until his heavy balls are pressed against Jaskier’s body.  He groans loudly, pushing back against him as Geralt starts to slide out again.
He slams back in with enough force to shake Jaskier’s smaller frame, and he cries out as pleasure dances down his spine.  Geralt finds a quick pace, fucking him roughly as he struggles to stay on his hands and knees.  It’s brutal and perfect.
Something wet hits his shoulder, and Jaskier whimpers, knowing Geralt’s tongue is hanging out while he fucks him.  He bites his own lip as the drool slides through his fur and down his back.  Fuck, he’s going to be filthy by the time they’re done.
That thought alone is enough to set him off again, and he comes with a shout.  Geralt doesn’t bother stopping, is used to him by now, and just works him through it.  Jaskier feels so full, so used that it’s making his head swim.
And then Geralt is pulling back, slipping free of him, and Jaskier makes a questioning whine before the ground and sky start flipping places.  He flails his limbs, but Geralt whispers, “I’ve got you,” and it calms him down.
They end up with Geralt on his back and Jaskier straddling him, face to face.  And oh yes, this is much much better.  Now he can see his lover’s gorgeous face, his eyes nearly black and his fangs glistening in the moonlight as he picks Jaskier up like he’s weightless and slams him back on his cock.
Jaskier sets his hands on Geralt’s chest, even though he doesn’t need to work for it.  Geralt does all the work, his claws digging into Jaskier’s waist as he fucks up into him.   His prick is massive, and Jaskier feels like he’s fucking up into the back of his throat.  He needs a distraction or he’ll come again.
Leaning down, he catches Geralt’s mouth in a sloppy kiss.  It’s wet and messy, neither of them able to do much more than nip and lick at each other’s mouth.  Jaskier runs his tongue over Geralt’s fangs, pressing up just enough to hurt.  It’s a good kind of pain, warming him from the inside out, and he shocks himself by coming again.
He tastes blood, unable to control himself as he shakes wildly on top of Geralt.  The copper taste of it explodes on his tongue while he coats Geralt’s stomach in watery come.  He watches with wide eyes as his seed blends in with Geralt’s white fur.  Unable to stop himself, he brings a hand down and rubs it in, making sure his scent will stick to him for much longer than tonight.
He’s still coming back to himself, mind fucked-out and blissful, when Geralt grunts out that he’s close.  That news has Jaskier’s cock perking up again.  He presses down, letting it rub between their bodies and keens as Geralt thrusts harder.  He feels so full, so deliciously stuffed, yet he starts begging for more.
“Need it,” he whines, “need your knot.  Please.  Geralt.  Fuck, need it.”
“Love when you get greedy,” Geralt tells him.  He speeds up, his rhythm stuttering as Jaskier feels the base of his cock growing.  The knot brushes against his abused rim, and Jaskier’s eyes nearly roll back into his head as he wills his body to relax.
One more thrust is all it takes, and Jaskier howls out, his voice echoing through the forest as Geralt’s knot pops past his rim.  He comes again, slumping down against Geralt’s chest as sparks shoot through him.  It’s nearly too much, and he’s pulsing with over-stimulation.
But then Geralt nips at his neck, growling as he finally lets go.  The first pump of hot come feels like a blessing, and Jaskier clings to Geralt as he fills him up.  It’s too much - always is - but Jaskier knows the knot will keep him plugged.
“Still with me?” Geralt asks after the first round stops, and Jaskier nods weakly.  Geralt chuckles and presses a kiss against the top of his head.
They lay there, trading soft kisses while Geralt keeps spilling inside of him.  Jaskier aches with it, his belly impossibly round, but it’s the sweetest kind of ache.  He knows once Geralt pulls out that he’ll be a mess, come dripping down his thighs and coating his fur.  Maybe he can get Geralt to lick him clean once they get back to camp.  His cock gives a valiant effort to get hard again at that thought, but he’s done for the night.  
---
NSFW Tags: @tothedesert @mayastormborn @feraljaskier @allinthebones @selectivegeekwithstandards @trickstermoose67 @dapandapod @theweirdlynx @tedrakitty @sharinalein @iamaqt314 @silvermintnightprincess @honeysuckletook @rockysstupidity @live-long-and-trek-on @larawrmonster @thesynysterunknown @rebard-main @gryffinqueen-blog @fangirleaconmigo @mothmanismyuncle @fontegagrilledcheese @thestarkwinter @lokibus @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @221birl1823 @strippiluolamies @concussed-dragon @aurelia-which-means-sunrise @clarebear66 @feral-jaskier @hayleynzlive @answrs @jaskierswolf @holymotherwolf @thisislisa    @firefly-party @officerjennie @theshapeofcool @singerin @flawney
If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know. Thank you!
96 notes · View notes
beth--b · 2 years
Text
Fall
“One last contract Jask, we need the coin,” Jaskier muttered to himself as he walked beside Roach. Jaskier looks at Geralt’s unconscious form slung over the mare’s saddle and shakes his head. “For fucks sake what am I meant to do with you now? At least you have some sense about you Roach, I know you will get us to the keep but really it would be much easier if Geralt was conscious.”
It was late Fall and time to head to the keep for the long cold winter ahead. Geralt getting hurt and being out of commission for the trek up the mountain was not part of the plan.
He continues to chatter at the mare and berate the Witcher as he makes his way up the trail. It was going to be a long trip to Kaer Morhen with Geralt unable to lead them. He had made the trip a few times now, and Roach knew the way but it was not an easy journey under the best of circumstances and these were certainly not those.
If he kept talking though he could pretend that everything was alright, that Geralt was just being his usual silent broody self and he was riding Roach. Not that he was out cold and would be for who knows how long. He had taken a contract at the last town near the base of the blue mountains, it was unusual for any monster activity there with the number of Witcher’s that passed through, but a manticore had been spotted nearby and the people wanted it dealt with before Winter set in and no more Witcher’s would be there to deal with it until the Spring.
Geralt had been able to kill the beast but he had taken too many hits himself, along with a dose of venom in doing so. He was low on potions so Jaskier couldn’t just give him Swallow or Kiss to help speed up the healing process and he had nothing to counteract the venom. 
read it on ao3 here
Jaskier had seen this happen before, or at least something similar. Geralt’s body had basically shut down to aid in healing and to let him work the venom out of system, without proper treatment or potions it could take some days for him to regain consciousness. In the meantime Jaskier would need to try to get them to Kaer Morhen. Vesemir would be able to help Geralt once they were there. He only hoped that they made it before the snow set in.
After several hours of trekking up the path Jaskier gave up talking to himself in favour of focusing on his surroundings. He knew that there were many things in these mountains that could kill a man, the path was dangerous on its own the further one travelled, without worrying about wolves or wargs or forktails.
If he was lucky he might come across Lambert or Eskel on the journey but he wasn’t holding his breath.
When it began to get dark Jaskier finally spotted the small cave the Witcher’s used as a place to stop the first night on the trail to the keep. Jaskier sighed in relief and led Roach over the cave. The bard removed the saddle bags and set up their bedrolls before heaving Geralt over his shoulder and laying him out on his bedroll. He got a small fire going near the mouth of the cave and then checked Geralt’s wounds. Satisfied that the deep gouges in his chest were not infected and the stitches were holding well he moved to the head wound that Jaskier had at first thought had killed his Witcher from the sheer amount of blood.
Again, the stitches along Geralt’s hairline looked good. He then checked the more minor wounds and once done, he set about removing Roach’s tack and scrounging up some food for himself. 
With nothing left to do but sleep he lay beside Geralt and carefully lay his head on the Witcher’s shoulder. He fell asleep listening to the slow but steady breathing of his love.
Jaskier woke at dawn and after checking Geralt’s wounds once more and changing his bandages he saddled Roach and tried to wake Geralt enough to help get him back on the mare. He wasn’t confident it would work but finally he got enough of a response from Geralt that with Roach kneeling he was able to get him into the saddle again. 
After breaking camp and packing away the last of their belongings they set out again for another long day.
If Jaskier could keep up the same pace he would be able to reach the next stop over point by nightfall and then tomorrow they would reach the Keep and Vesemir.
“You can do this Jaskier. He would be able to get you there no problem.”
Getting himself some dried fruit and nuts from the saddle bags he set off again, Roach following behind him.
The day passed in much the same way as the last. Jaskier spent some of his time chatting to Roach, he checked Geralt a few times, tucking his cloak in around him, and finally lapsed into silence. Geralt was slightly warmer than he should be, though Jaskier was confident it was just his body fighting off the venom and nothing to be too concerned about. It was getting colder as the day wore on and the cloud cover was getting heavier. It wasn’t unheard of for an early snowfall this far North, it may only be Fall but Jaskier was growing increasingly concerned at the prospect of snow.
His fears came true as it began to lightly snow as dusk approached. They hadn’t made it as far as he had hoped and they would be travelling to the stop over point in the dark at this rate, the path ahead made more treacherous as the snow covered the ground.
“Fuck,” he growled to himself. Feeling exhaustion deep within his bones he nevertheless began moving faster, Roach keeping pace beside him. Jaskier reached out and kept one hand on her bridle as the sky darkened, hoping between them they would be able to keep steady and not slip. He only hoped he would be able to find the cave as night fell.
As they approached where Jaskier was sure the cave should be he slowed down keeping an eye out for the opening to the Witcher’s cave. He knew there were others along the way but he wasn’t sure what they may harbour in their depths so he didn’t trust using them. Most creatures tend to steer clear of the cave’s along here that smelt of witchers, not to mention that there was always firewood and a spare blanket or two and as the temperature dropped Jaskier was sure they would need all the warmth they could get. 
It was now full dark and Jaskier had lost count of how many times he had stumbled, only his grip on Roach keeping him from falling. His fur lined cloak was no longer enough to keep him warm and he was almost at breaking point. Finally he spotted the marker for the cave. Nothing obvious if you didn’t know what to look for, but Jaskier knew and he almost cried in relief at the sight.
Although small, the cave was tall enough that Roach could come inside as well and Jaskier led her in, repeating the same tasks as the night before, though the long day and cold temperatures had slowed him down making everything far more difficult that the previous evening.
Once Geralt was off Roach and covered under furs in his bedroll Jaskier build a small fire near the mouth of the cave, though with his fingers clumsy with cold it took far longer than it should have.
Once he had finished his tasks he sat in front of the fire, trying to get some warmth back into his fingers. Once the feeling had returned he dragged his own bedroll beside Geralts and covered them both in all their furs as well as the couple of musty blankets stowed in the back of the cave. 
Despite his exhaustion, sleep did not come easily and Jaskier lay awake long into the night worried about how they would make it to the Keep the next day if the snow continued through the night.
When dawn came Jaskier had already risen and broken camp. The sooner they left, the sooner they would reach Kaer Morhen.
Geralt had roused enough to drink some water and eat a little jerky before he had passed out again. Jaskier reassured himself again and again that he was alright, his body just needed rest to heal. He had lost huge amounts of blood along with the fucking manticore venom, and if he was human he’d have bled out long before Jaskier could stitch his wounds. 
Jaskier always liked to correct his lover when he said he wasn’t human, though in these circumstances Jaskier could not be more grateful for that fact.
As they made their way out of the cave Jaskier was dismayed to see the snow had continued through the night, the way before him covered in an ankle deep layer of snow. 
He pulled a blanket free from their saddlebags and wrapped it around Geralt as best he could, before pulling his own cloak around himself with a shiver. 
“Come on girl, soon you’ll be in a nice warm stable, we just need to get home. We can do this. We have to do this,” he began to make his way through the snow leading Roach along the path.
By mid morning the snow was falling in thick flurries around them and Jaskier could hardly see the path before his eyes. He was seriously worried that he may not be able to make it, and wouldn’t that be terrible to have made it so close only to fail in the last stretch. 
Shivering, he leaned into Roach’s side for a moment trying to work out what to do. He was beginning to lose feeling in his fingers and toes and he knew that hypothermia would soon become a real concern. He had never been so grateful to be shivering as he knew that meant things were not yet so dire that he couldn’t push on. He briefly checked Geralt and found that the Witcher was cool but not too cold to be worried about. At least that was one thing to be thankful for.
Finally pulling away from the mare he set forth once more. He kept his head down and just focused on putting one foot in front of the other. After what felt like years but was in reality several hours, Jaskier became aware of the fact that he was no longer as cold. A part of him knew that there was something deeply wrong here as the snow was still falling and he was now walking in snow up to his knees. He couldn’t feel his toes, could hardly feel his legs for that matter.
He was so tired.
Maybe he should stop.
Roach nickered, nudging his cheek with her nose. Jaskier looked at the mare and remembered why he couldn’t stop. He needed to get Geralt home.
One foot in front of the other. 
He kept going until he reached a wall. He wasn’t sure why there was a wall in the path, why would someone put a wall there?
But then the wall was moving and there was someone speaking with him.
“Eskel?” he asked, voice cracking.
“Jaskier come on, we need to get you inside. What the fuck happened?”
“Geralt, he needs help. Manticore venom, no potions,” Jaskier ground out, he felt like he was going to fall but he needed to tell Eskel, Geralt needed help.
There was muffled shouting nearby and then a flurry of motion as someone lifted Geralt down from Roach’s back and someone else led Roach to the stable. Jaskier was dimly aware of Eskel wrapping his own cloak around him and leading him towards the keep but before he could make it inside Jaskier lost the battle with keeping himself on his feet, numb legs giving out beneath him.
Eskel managed to catch Jaskier around the waist and lifted him into his arms, the bard turning his head into his warmth and going limp in his arms.
***
When Jaskier is next aware of his surroundings he is warm, almost painfully so and his toes and fingers burn causing him to moan.
“Jaskier?” Eskel asks, leaning over the bard.
“Eskel? What happened? Is Geralt alright?”
Eskel helps him to sit up and wraps a blanket around his shoulders. Jaskier looks around the room relieved to see the familiar walls of the room he and Geralt share in the keep.
“Hey Jaskier, Geralt’s fine, or he will be soon. Vesemir had checked him over and given him an antivenom and a dose of Swallow. How are you feeling?”
Jaskier took a moment to feel relieved that Geralt would be ok before thinking about answering Eskel.
“Ah tired I guess and rather sore. But I’m alright, at least I think so.”
Eskel nodded as though that was the answer he expected.
“You’ll feel some pain as you warm up, much longer out there and you would have been lucky if you hadn’t lost your fingers and toes, or your life for that matter. You’ve been out for a few hours. Next year maybe try for a slightly less dramatic entrance, hmm?”
Jaskier smiled and nodded. “Of course dear Eskel. When Geralt’s feeling better I’ll be sure to tell him no contracts at the bottom of the fucking mountain again shall I?”
“You and me both,” Eskel agreed. “Now you should get some more rest but before you do, are you hungry?”
“A little, something warm would be wonderful.”
“Alright I’ll be back shortly.” Eskel stood up from the chair beside Jaskier’s bed and headed out the door to get some food.
Jaskier lay back down while he waited, he wanted nothing more than to go to Geralt but he knew he’d never make it in this state. He would eat, sleep some more and then go to his Witcher.
Jaskier wasn’t aware he had dozed off until Eskel woke him with a gentle shake of his shoulder.
“Oh sorry Eskel, didn’t mean to fall asleep,” he said, yawning into his hand.
“It’s fine Jaskier. Here eat up while it’s warm.” Eskel passed over a bowl of warm stew and sat down beside the bed again, staying nearby until Jaskier finished before taking the bowl and standing again.
“Call out if you need anything.”
“Thank you,” Jaskier replied, already half asleep once more.
***
The next time Jaskier woke he was hot. 
While it was preferable to being cold he couldn’t quite understand why he was so warm.
When he finally blinked his eyes open he saw the source of the heat and decided he didn’t mind being a little over warm after all.
Geralt had obviously woken while Jaskier slept and joined him in their bed. With the fire banked high and the extra blankets plus a Witcher in the bed it was no wonder Jaskier was so warm. 
He managed to push some of the blankets away, still feeling warm but no longer uncomfortably so, he settled back on the pillow beside Geralt. He softly stroked a finger along Geralt’s jaw, the stubble making his sensitive fingers almost sting, not that it would stop him from touching though. After a few moments had passed he went to pull away only to have Geralt’s hand reach up and capture his, pressing Jaskier’s palm against Geralt’s cheek.
“Hm stay,” Geralt rasped, his voice rumbling deep in his chest. 
“Not going anywhere love,” Jaskier whispered, turning his head and pressing it up against Geralt’s neck. “We made it and I’m not going anywhere.”
Geralt finally released Jaskier’s hand only to turn onto his side and wrap the bard in his arms. 
They were both safe and warm and had the whole Winter to spend together.
Jaskier was on the verge of falling asleep again before he forced himself to speak once more. 
“Before I forget Geralt, no more fucking contracts at the bottom of the path. I’m not sure Roach and I will be there to rescue again if we have a repeat of this year.”
Geralt just snorted and shook his head. “Deal. Next time we’ll send Lambert back down the mountain.”
Jaskier laughed and pushed himself up enough to lean in and kiss his Witcher before replying. “Good, though I won’t be the one to tell him that. I like my body parts exactly where they are.”
Geralt just hummed and pulled Jaskier back against his chest, breaths evening out as he fell asleep again.
Jaskier fought the pull of sleep a little longer just to revel in the feel of Geralt against him. Despite what he had said he hoped he would always be there if Geralt needed him. Just as Geralt was there for him.
80 notes · View notes
witchertrickortreat · 2 years
Text
The spooky season is almost upon us, so celebrate all the Halloween festivities by participating in our Witcher Trick or Treat Art/Writing Event!
Here are this year's prompts!
Follow us for more details!
Tumblr media
83 notes · View notes
Text
Found Feral
written for the @witchertrickortreat Law of Surprise promt: Found Feral
cw: domestic violence, child abuse
Wham.
“You useless little shit!”
Bang.
“Who do you think you are, huh?”
Thud.
“Try raising your hand to me again, and I’ll kill you and your whore mother both!”
The door slams shut.
Inside, his mother is sobbing, then suddenly screams. Screams for a very long time.
Lambert lies on the cold, hard ground for several minutes, coughing and wheezing. Then, once he’s able to stand up—slowly, carefully—he glares at the door and spits.
Next time, he tells himself. Or the one after that. Eventually, he will be strong enough. 
The small puddle of spittle is tinged red.
It’s almost a ritual, by this point. 
Or maybe a game.
How many times will his mother beg for mercy before Lambert tries to step in? How long before his father has an excuse to turn on him and beat him bloody, then throw him outside?
He always threatens to kill them too, and yet he never delivers.
Lambert figures it’s mainly because he wouldn’t have anyone to abuse.
Willem is gone for a very long time, but Lambert is not naive enough to think that he won’t be coming back. They had prayed for it often enough, him and his mother both, and yet Melitele never answered. Lambert had started to doubt she could even hear them at all.
He doesn’t pray anymore.
His mother does, though. Every morning, unfailingly, like clockwork.
Sometimes, he doesn’t mind. Other times, like today, he can’t stand it.
“She’s not listening!” He snaps. “She never listens! Maybe she isn’t even there.” 
He gets up to leave as his mother begs him to stop blaspheming—maybe to leave forever, he tells himself, even though he knows that he can’t.
He hates his mother.
He loves his mother.
He could never leave her.
Just as he’s by the door, it swings open and he comes face to face with his father.
They stare at each other for a moment, Willem looking more shocked than Lambert had ever seen him. He doesn’t look good, Lambert notes. He’s scratched up and bloody and on his leg there’s a wound that looks as if a chunk of it was bitten off.
“So that’s what it’ll be,” comes a voice from behind his father, and Lambert’s head swivels towards it. There’s a man he didn’t notice before standing there, armour clad and weary-looking. He has a pair of swords at his back. Lambert stares at him, uncomprehending, as Willem’s shocked expression suddenly turns to rage.
“No!” He growls and suddenly strikes out at Lambert. “You little- Why now, huh? Where the fuck were you going?” The punch to the face sends Lambert to the ground. He curls up defensively, waits for an inevitable second blow to follow, but it doesn’t come. Instead, there’s a sound of a quick scuffle, of a body hitting the ground, and then the mystery man speaks up—and when Lambert looks up, Willem is at his feet, cowering.
“As agreed, the boy belongs to me now. You will not harm him further.”
“Yes, yes, of course, sir Witcher! As you say! The boy is yours.” Willem yelps, scuttling away into the back of the room. The man- The Witcher nods and holds a hand out to Lambert.
“Come, boy.”
Lambert sits up and stares at him, uncomprehending. The Witcher must notice the confusion in the boy's eyes, because he sighs, retracting his hand.
"I saved your father's life, and in return, he promised me the first thing he laid eyes on upon coming home." He gives Lambert a meaningful look. "And that… Would be you."
Lambert immediately breaks out in a cold sweat. No. Fuck, no. This wasn not happening to him.
"Fuck you!" He yells, getting up and balling his hands into fists. "You saved his life, so take him and leave us alone!"
The witcher smiles then. "You have spirit—good." He gestures with one hand and for a moment, Lambert feels a little woozy. Suddenly, going with the man doesn't seem so bad… Surely, he would take care of him, and his parents would be fine- 
"No!" The thought is so jarring, it breaks him out of the trance, and Lambert suddenly knows that the Witcher had just tried to put some kind of spell on him. He shakes his head to clear it and glares defiantly at the man, who stares back in surprise.
"Too much spirit, perhaps." He smiles again. Then he moves, so fast Lambert barely registers it. Something hits the back of Lambert's head and everything goes dark.
Vesemir sighs in relief when they finally reach Kaer Morhen. They boy must be feral—he had been a handful during the journey, attempting escape no less than five times.
But they’re home now.
He’ll learn that yet.
21 notes · View notes
wellthisstinks · 2 years
Text
Just a bard enjoying the season
For the @witchertrickortreat fall prompt
Tumblr media
12 notes · View notes
astaldis · 1 year
Link
Tumblr media Tumblr media
@witchertrickortreat​
Witcher Trick or Treat Prompt: Masquerade
Whumptober 2022 Prompts: 
No. 1 - This wasn't supposed to happen No. 4 - Waking up disoriented No. 28 - Headache
Chapters: 12/13 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Fringilla Vigo, Anna Henrietta | Anarietta/Jaskier | Dandelion, Angoulême & Anna Henrietta, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Jaskier | Dandelion, Maria Barring | Milva & Fringilla Vigo, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Maria Barring | Milva, Jaskier | Dandelion, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Angoulême (The Witcher), Anna Henrietta | Anarietta, Fringilla Vigo Additional Tags: Witcher Trick or Treat Halloween Event, Trick Or Treat Prompts Challenge, sfw, Humour, Some Swearing, Too much alcohol, Non-Explicit Sex, breakfast in Beauclair, Hangover, Friendship, light spoilers for The Witcher book series, Geralt/Regis (implied), Jaskier/Cahir (implied), Milva/Fringilla (implied), Witcher trick or treat 2022 Summary:
While Geralt's Hanza is staying in Beauclair, the famous fall event is coming up. An event the Witcher cannot refuse to take part in, even if he has to dress up for it. However, not everything goes as planned and the members of the Hanza are in for some surprises. Blame it on the grape punch. Or is it the bard's fault after all?
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
His head hurts like seven hells. No, seventeen. At least. Like caught between hammer and anvil with the most powerful Mahakam dwarf wielding the enormous iron tool. Every few seconds causing a crashing boom to explode in his woozy brain. Like the reverberating roll of thunder directly next to his eardrums. Perhaps it is the clap of thunder and not just a figment of his imagination? There were no clouds last he checked but a perfectly clear, dark velvet sky dotted with a million stars and an unusually big and round silver moon. Perfect weather for Toussaint's famous fall masquerade. However, he feels wet. Very wet actually. In between the echoing booms he believes he can hear the patter of water, too. A sudden deluge? Which he was too deeply asleep to even notice? His eyelids are far too heavy to open just yet to check, though. Damn, has he really drunk that much? He remembers a few glasses of freshly made wine and then there was this delicious grape punch ... He must indeed have had a cup too many as he can hardly remember anything else. Or two cups. Three. He moans softly and tries to sit up but immediately lies back down again, this time with a much louder groan, his head spinning and his stomach doing somersaults. Gods, now would be the perfect time for Geralt to kill him ... He groans again. Then, with an effort he forces his sluggish brain to process a few more of the incoming sensory signals from his surroundings. He stiffens. Shit! The perception processed by the few brain cells that are actually working is rather disturbing. Besides feeling cold and wet and - naked??? - he realises that the booming sound is neither in his head nor the roll of thunder but somebody snoring straight into his ear. Darn, there is a hand on his chest, too, that definitely does not belong to him. And another one in a place that is far too indecent to even mention ...
Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41477553/chapters/106810488
Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes
mysticcoyoteart · 2 years
Photo
Tumblr media
It's officially Day 1 of #WitcherTorT2 I'm so excited for this! Kicking things with SFW fall. This is more atmospheric and background heavy than usual but I love it! @witchertrickortreat I hardly post here anymore as I find it hard to keep up with all the different socials but this even must be shared everywhere lol!
22 notes · View notes
silvertonguelover · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
Day 9 SFW: Howl @witchertrickortreat
Toddler wolf!Geralt with a baby vampire!Jask (look at his cute little fangs lol) Gewalt is his favorite doggie atm. 😭😂💖🙏
I didn't have any other ideas for this prompt. 😭🙏 (G maybe a shifter or a werewolf idk)💀
164 notes · View notes
spellwing777 · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
For the ‘game’ prompt. Gaunter has played a long one with certain nobility...
@witchertrickortreat
32 notes · View notes
kueble · 2 years
Text
The Sweetest Thing
This was written for the @witchertrickortreat prompt: Fall.  It’s part of my Spider Plant AU.
Teen. Warnings: None. 1,600 words.
Jaskier/Eskel
---
The sun is shining brightly, but there’s a cool edge to the breeze, and Jaskier lets the cuffs of his oversized sweater slip over his hands.  Eskel must notice, because he reaches over and laces their fingers together, warming him up nicely.  Jaskier smiles at him, but manages to keep quiet and pretend to be listening to the lovely farm worker explaining the rules to the small group at the welcome stand.  He should probably pay attention, but that’s what he has Eskel for.
Once the speech ends, Eskel grabs one of the farm’s cloth tote bags and steers him towards the orchard.  The apple trees are lined up in neat little rows, each one marked with a sign declaring what type of apple they hold.  It looks so picturesque that Jaskier feels his chest tighten.  Who would have thought he’d be in the kind of relationship where he goes apple picking on a date?  Certainly not him.
“You’re here, but your mind is miles away.  Where’d I lose you?” Eskel interrupts him, and Jaskier offers a sheepish smile at him.
“Sorry, dear,” he says with a snort, “I’m actually thinking about how wonderful you are, but perhaps I should enjoy the time I’m spending with you instead?”
“Why not do both?  Feel free to compliment me while we pick,” Eskel tells him with a fond look.
“I just might,” Jaskier says before asking, “Why don’t you grow apples at the greenhouse?  It looks like this place does pretty decent business.”
“It sure does, but look at how massive it is!  We definitely don’t have the space to dedicate to an orchard.  Hell, we barely have space for everything Lambert wants to experiment with.  He’s always grafting something new in his free time.  We definitely wouldn’t even have room for Christmas trees come winter if we didn’t have so much land in the family.  Thankfully our dad lets us plant what we need,” Eskel explains.
“Ah, yes.  You’ll have to show off the family homestead someday.  Geralt makes it sound like it’s heaven on earth,” Jaskier says before realizing he probably shouldn’t invite himself to Eskel’s family home. Hanging out with his brothers occasionally is different than meeting his dad.
“It’s a rustic farmhouse in the middle of bumfuck nowhere with acres and acres of pine trees surrounding it.  Geralt just likes it so much because Vesemir lets him keep horses there,” Eskel points out.  “Trust me, it’s beautiful piece of property, but I’m way too accustomed to the comforts of civilization to pack up and move back home.  And uh, we’re actually invited for dinner this Saturday if you’d like?  I was going to try and find a way to sneak it into the conversation, but you’ve done me a huge favor here.”
“Oh, I’d love to!” Jaskier chirps, his excitement making Eskel’s cheeks darken.  He looks so handsome that Jaskier can’t help leaning over and pecking him on the cheek.  It’s over way too fast, and then they’re off picking.
They start off in a row of Empire apples, which Eskel mentions are great for baking.   Jaskier accuses him of keeping his hidden baking skills secret, but Eskel just shoots him a sly smile and offers to teach him how to bake a pie.  It’s easy banter, just light conversation as they work on picking the best looking apples.  Still, Jaskier feels pleasantly warm all over, and it’s definitely not the autumn sun heating him up.
They pick in silence for a bit, their tote bag half full in no time at all. That’s when Jaskier spots what has to be the prettiest apple he has ever seen.  It’s bright red with a couple patches of green, and it’s roughly the size of his fist.  He simply has to have it.  Sadly, he can’t reach it, even on his tip-toes.  He looks forlornly back at the ladders stacked next to the welcome stand, but they’ve wandered off quite a lot and they seem ridiculously far away.
“What’s wrong?” Eskel asks, tilting his head like a confused puppy while Jaskier pouts at him.
“I want that one,” he explains with a sigh, and Eskel reaches up, only for his fingers to barely touch the bottom of the apple.
“Let me help,” Eskel says, leaning over and motioning for Jaskier to climb on his shoulders.
“Eskel, dear, I’m six two.  If I can’t reach it, perhaps it’s not meant to be picked,” Jaskier says with a laugh.
“Well what if it’s the most delicious apple you’ve ever tasted?  What then?” Eskel argues, and Jaskier just rolls his eyes before stepping behind him.  It takes a bit of work and is ridiculously awkward, but somehow he manages to get himself on Eskel’s shoulders.
“Fuck, you’re strong,” Jaskier mumbles, slightly in awe of the behemoth of a man beneath him.  He looks down with wide eyes to find Eskel beaming up at him, his scarred lip pulling to show even more teeth than normal.
He’s absolutely gorgeous, and Jaskier still can’t believe he gets to call him his.
Jaskier nearly falls while getting down, and the two of them end up clinging to each other, laughing, with the prized apple clutched between them.   Making a show of wiping it on Eskel’s sweater, he offers his boyfriend a smirk before biting into the large apple.  The flavor is a perfect blend of sweet and tart, and Jaskier moans softly as the juices burst across his tongue.
He doesn’t remember closing his eyes, but when he opens them, Eskel is grinning at him with heat in his gaze.  Instead of saying anything, he holds the apple up to his mouth, watching as Eskel takes a loud bite.  His eyelids flutter closed as he offers his own soft moan, and Jaskier has never felt so justified.
“That'll teach you not to mock me before you try it,” he says, but Eskel isn’t paying any attention to him, already grabbing for the apple again.  “Oh no you don’t! I worked hard for this!” he cries out, but Eskel just laughs before chasing him around the trunk of the tree.  He pins him up against it, bracketing Jaskier’s body with his own.
“Then you best stop teasing before we get thrown out of here for being indecent,” Eskel mutters, but he looks so pleased that Jaskier knows he isn’t upset.
“I’d say it would be worth it, but they’ll have to pry this apple from my cold dead hands, so let’s leave some space for Jesus between us and finish picking, yeah?" Jaskier asks.  Eskel snorts in response, but backs up and looks around for their abandoned tote bag.   Once he finds it, he holds out a hand for Jaskier, who happily slides his own into it, squeezing lightly as they move on.
If anyone sees their little display, no one calls them on it.
It takes them the better part of an hour - Jaskier will only let the very best apples into their tote - but eventually their bag is full.  Jaskier spends a ridiculous amount of time trying not to focus on how holding the overflowing bag makes the muscles on Eskel’s forearms strain.  His green and purple succulent tattoo is already enough to draw Jaskier’s eyes, and this is almost too much.
“You’re spacing out again,” Eskel says, snorting when Jaskier trips over his own feet in his effort to look normal.
“Sorry, I can’t help being easily flustered when my boyfriend is so hot,” he says with a giggle.  Eskel rolls his eyes, but the corners of his mouth definitely twitch.
“Well good thing we’re done,” Eskel comments, his voice darkening, “all we have to do is weigh and pay for these, and then I can take you home and fluster you up some more.”
“I like the way you think.”
They make their way up the small hill and away from the orchard.  There aren’t many people in line, but they have to wait long enough for Jaskier to get distracted by all the extra little goodies the farm sells.  He debates whether or not he needs some local honey, but what really draws his eye is the hypnotic spin of the cider slushie machine.
“Go grab me a couple bottles of hard cider, and I’ll order you a slushie,” Eskel tells him softly, breaking him out of his thoughts.
“That obvious, huh?” he asks a bit sheepishly.
“You’re practically drooling, babe,” Eskel tells him, and Jaskier feels himself go warm at the nickname.  He never thought he’d be into sweet little endearments like that, but apparently he really really is.  He can tell Eskel notices his blush by the twinkle in his eyes.  Ignoring it, Jaskier wanders into the little shop and over towards the cooler full of hard cider.  There are way too many flavors to choose from, but he settles on an original and a tart cherry that he thinks Eskel will appreciate.
Once he returns to the line, Eskel nods approvingly at his choices and hands him an iced cold cider slushie.  The first sip is nearly sweet enough to knock him over, and he must make a face, because Eskel chuckles at him.
“It’s sweet, try it,” Jaskier says, holding out the red and white striped paper straw.
“Nah, the only sweet thing I need is you,” Eskel mutters, and Jaskier feels like his face is burning up.  Somehow he manages to keep it together long enough for them to finish paying, and they head back to Eskel’s truck, chilly hands tightly clasped together.  They load up the truck and Jaskier leans over to kiss Eskel once they climb inside.  It’s short, just a soft press of lips, but it still makes his toes curl.   They hold hands the whole way home, their hands resting on the beat up bench seat of the truck.
It’s pretty much the perfect fall day.
---
Tags: @halerune @mayastormborn @dani-dandelino @jaskierswolf @littoraly-art @tothedesert @dapandapod @theweirdlynx @tedrakitty @sharinalein @theamazingdevilgivesmehope @iamaqt314 @silvermintnightprincess @rockysstupidity @live-long-and-trek-on @hayleynzlive @holymotherwolf @thesynysterunknown @rebard-main @larawrmonster @gryffinqueen-blog @lovelyscot @fangirleaconmigo @mothmanismyuncle @fontegagrilledcheese @thestarkwinter @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @allthequeenshorses13 @221birl1823 @strippiluolamies @concussed-dragon @aurelia-which-means-sunrise @clarebear66 @feral-jaskier @j-u-s-tmyself  @thisislisa @firefly-party @officerjennie @theshapeofcool @flawney
If you’d like to be added/removed, please let me know. Thank you!
57 notes · View notes
witchertrickortreat · 2 years
Text
Something Wicked This Way Comes... Soon!
Witches, Ghouls, Goblins and Cryptids! Lend me your ears!
Prompts drop Sep 1st! And until then, watch closely as we take a stroll down memory lane and celebrate the many wonderful works from last year’s event to get you hyped for this year’s!
#WitcherTorT2 Stay Tuned!
Tumblr media
2 notes · View notes
wellthisstinks · 2 years
Text
Potion Lessons
Fandom: The Witcher
Pairing: Lambert/Jaskier
Summary: Jaskier sets out to learn how to make witcher potions. He is unsuccessful until Lambert's intervention.
Word count: 2521
Written for @witchertrickortreat for the prompt potion
Read on AO3 here
Jaskier squinted at the journal in front of him and wished, not for the first time, that Geralt had better handwriting. Honestly, it made snooping so much harder when he had to make out this basilisk scrawl. It also seemed to have gotten worse over the years they’ve been friends and if Jaskier didn’t know any better he’d say Geralt was doing this on purpose.
Even so, he wanted to be as helpful as possible and nothing was going to stop him, not even Geralt. He squinted at the page again and gods be kind does that say drowner brain. Jaskier took a deep breath. He knew the witcher’s potions were contrived of all sorts of nasty ingredients he knew that. But it is quite different to know that you had your tongue in a man’s mouth only moments after he drank something made out of drowner brains.
Jaskier took another moment to shudder internally before turning his attention back to the recipe for Swallow. He had found several recipes for different versions of the potion in Geralt’s notes, but it seemed you needed the same base for all of them. Well he thought, probably better to start as simple as possible right?
The simplest version only had three ingredients, drowner brain, celandine, and Dwarven spirit. Even after only having been in Kaer Morhen for a week, he was absolutely certain the witcher’s had all of that in the alchemy lab.
With that he got up, tucked Geralt’s journal under his arm and headed out into the hall. If he remembered correctly, the alchemy lab was all the way in the basement level of the keep. He wanted his potion making to be a surprise so hopefully he wouldn’t get lost or run into any of the wolves on his way down. Geralt and Vesemir went hunting today while Eskel and Lambert worked on some of the outside repairs to the crumbling keep, so he should be in the clear.
Even so Jaskier tried to keep his steps as quiet as possible as he made his way through the main hall and towards the back staircase that lead to the basement level of the keep. The basement level used to home to the mage’s work spaces Geralt had told him. It was also where the Trial of the Grasses had been administered. For some reason that had struck Jaskier as odd. He always thought of mages working out of tall spiraling towers, not dark claustrophobic basements. Just another lie from fairy tales Jaskier thought idly.
The rooms that used to be mage’s offices and testing rooms were now primarily used by the witchers as storage. He peaked in some of the rooms as he walked by to see everything from broken furniture, (“it’s good wood Jaskier, you can’t just get rid of it.” Geralt had informed him when he asked.) to barrels of alcohol (“s’not much else to do here all winter” Lambert had similarly informed him). Still yet there were more rooms completely boarded off. Even Jaskier had enough sense not to ask about those.
The one room that was as far as he could tell, actually used for its intended purpose was the alchemy lab. The room was a wide open space with large cabinets of potion ingredients and tools on one side and several work benches on the other. The table in the far right corner of the room held Lambert’s distillery equipment, next to which was a sign reading “ do not fucking touch this or else.”Jaskier placed the journal down on one of the work tables and headed over to the cabinets. Everything seemed to be organized alphabetically with neatly written labels, clearly not done by Geralt, Jaskier thought. After gathering the ingredients he needed along with a knife, bowl, and mortar and pestle, he returned to the work bench and laid everything out. He looked over Geralt’s notes again before glancing back at the ingredients laid out before him. The notes were not very specific about the actual method of potion making, they really just laid out the ingredients and amounts needed. They did mention that the dwarven spirit got added at the end which was helpful, but he really had no idea how to start.
He looked around once again at the equipment available to him. All there really was that he hadn’t grabbed or ruled out as helpful were a collection of burners. He had seen similar thing in the labs atOxenfurt and in mage’s labs throughout the years, but truthfully he didn’t actually know how it worked. Well, better to just ignore it and not risk burning down the keep he thought. He once again contemplated the ingredients before him. His best course of action he figured was to mash the celandine flowers with the pestle and cut the drowner brain into smaller pieces before doing the same. With that, Jaskier rolled up the sleeves of his chemise and got to work.
About an hour later he ended with something… that did not in any way resemble the potion he’d seen in Geralt’s bag and that was emitting a foul odor. Jaskier sighed and turned to the journal to see if he missed anything. As he was squinting at the pages trying to figure out where he went wrong, the door to the alchemy lab banged open. Jaskier jumped and fumbled with the journal to keep from dropping it in the mess he made, Lambert just raised a brow at him and headed over to his still.
_______________________________
Lambert tried his best not to groan at the sight of the bard in his alchemy lab, and yes it was his lab as he was the only one who could arsed to use it more than once a year and he was the one who kept everything neat and organized. It wasn’t that he didn’t like the bard, in fact he probably liked the bard too much and therein was the problem. Lambert did his best not to get too close, he wasn’t exactly sure of the relationship between Geralt and the bard, but there was certainly something there and he wasn’t about to get involved in their mess.
He set about checking his still, making sure everything was in order and brewing properly. Then, he caught the bard out of the corner of his eye heading to the cabinet where he kept his potion ingredients. Lambert had no idea what he was trying to accomplish but whatever it was it stunk to the high heavens and he was not about to let the bard waste anymore of his shit.
“Bard” he barked and once again Jaskier jumped before turning to look at him.
“What exactly do you think you’re doing?” he asked. At his Jaskier had the nerve to actually look offended.
“I am making potions what does it look like I’m doing?” Lambert’s eyes cut to the sludge in a bottle sitting on the work bench before looking back at Jaskier.
“I can assure you buttercup, whatever you’re making, it’s no potion I know of.”
At that Jaskier deflated a little and Lambert felt a tiny twinge of guilt at being the cause.
“Look I’m just…I’m trying to learn. I may not be of much use hunting or repairing walls, but I thought I could at least do this for all of you.”
And oh, that was interesting Lambert thought he had said for them not for Geralt. For just a second Lambert’s traitorous heart dared to hope.
“Well, I can’t have you stinking up my lab or wasting all my ingredients,” and oh Jaskier deflated even more at that, “so I guess I’ll just have to teach you.”
“Really? You would?” Jaskier perked up immediately.
“Yeah why not. Like I said, there’s nothing else really to do all winter.”
And so Lambert and Jaskier began meeting for a couple hours each day after training and chores to go over potions, their uses, properties, ingredients, and most importantly how to make them. To Lambert’s surprise Jaskier was a quick study and he even brought his own journal to start taking notes. It was…somewhat endearing to have someone take such an interest, especially in something others often brushed off as gross or unsavory. What Lambert wasn’t expecting was that he actually was enjoying sharing his knowledge and the different tweaks and improvements he found for their potions over the years.
There was just one issue. The bard was too…touchy. He would slide up close to Lambert to watch as he demonstrated something or lean in close as he was talking. A couple times he even asked if Lambert could guide his hands so he could “make sure he was chopping this correctly”. The touching wasn’t even bad, no the worst part was Lambert enjoyed the attention, but didn’t know what to do with it.
He wanted to scream from the frustration. Lambert was convinced that either Jaskier genuinely did not know the effect this was having on him or that it was some elaborate scheme to make Geralt mad.
He honestly didn’t want to believe it was the latter. Jaskier seemed like a good man, but he’d been burned by “good men” before both figuratively and literally. They were finishing up lunch when Jaskier gave him a cheery “I’ll meet you in the alchemy lab!” before heading down. As Lambert got up to bring his bowl into the kitchen he caught the knowing smirks on both his brother’s faces.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Eskel laughed, “just you know, have fun.”
“And be safe.” Geralt said with a mock serious express “We don’t need any baby bards running around.” With that they both dissolved into fits of laughter.
“The fuck are you on about. I’m not fucking the bard that’s your department” He leveled a glare at Geralt, silently grateful that he couldn’t really blush.
“What are you talking about? We’re not sleeping together.I mean yeah Jaskier is super affectionate but we’re just friends.” Geralt looked at him confused. After a moment of taking in Lambert’s obvious shock Eskel just said
“Oh Lamb, you’ve really just been teaching him about potions?”
Embarrassed, Lambert stormed out of the room towards their– no his– alchemy lab because it was still his, despite Jaskier spending as much time in there as he did, and helping keep it neat and even repairing one of the stools when it broke earlier in the winter. Lambert couldn’t help it as his frustration grew. What the fuck was even happening anymore. He walked down the hall pass boarded up rooms muttering about stupid brothers who needed to mind their own business and stupid bards that made him feel things.
When he got to his alchemy lab he threw open the door, the suddenness making Jaskier jump just like that first day weeks ago. Unlike that first day, Jaskier walked up to him and cradled his face in his hands.
“Oh Lamb, what’s wrong?” He asked softly and Gods if that didn’t just make Lambert fall a little harder.
“Nothing.” he said, pulling away, “Where did we leave off last time?”
_______________________________________________
Jaskier didn’t know where he went wrong. He thought things were going so well with Lambert. Ever since they started their potion lessons they had been getting closer. Jaskier was genuinely happy to just be friends with the other man, but as time went on he couldn’t help but fall a little bit in love. Lambert was just so smart and passionate. The ways he talked about the inner workings of potion making and his own modifications to the old recipes was, to put it simply, very attractive. And the way his face lit up when Jaskier asked a question or brought up a counterpoint made his whole day.
So he started flirting, just a little here and there, and it seemed like Lambert was receptive. But then he came in with that awful sad look on his face and things shifted. Their lessons were shorter now and Lambert seemed to be avoiding him, no longer bringing him books to read or joking over dinner. It wasn’t just him, he saw the worried and apologetic looks Geralt and Eskel kept giving them both. Finally, after the third day of avoidance Jaskier grew tired of it all. Winter wasn’t going to last forever and it was better he get to the bottom of this now.
After dinner that night he saw Lambert skulk down to his as always. Jaskier waited a minute and then got up to follow him. By the time he arrived in the lab Lambert was already over at the far wall, tinkering with his still.
“Lambert,” Jaskier said, closing the door behind him “we need to talk.”
“What about?” Lambert responded still not looking up
“Whatever it is that’s been bothering you and why you’re avoiding me.”
“Oh” Lambert stilled for a moment “no, we don’t.” he went back to tinkering with his equipment.
Jaskier sighed.
“Look it’s fine if you don’t want to teach me anymore, but I just, I just thought we were finally becoming friends, that’s all”
He watched as Lambert took in his words and his shoulders sagged before he turned around to finally face Jaskier. He opened his mouth as if to say something then closed. He instead let out a deep sigh and ran his hand over his slicked back hair. And oh despite his words about being friends, Jaskier longed to run his fingers through that hair.
Finally, Lambert spoke, “You see that’s the problem we’re friends. At first I thought you were fucking Geralt, but then you kept getting closer, leaning on me, wanting to touch and shit and I–” another sigh “I thought it might mean something, you know, romantic” He emphasized the last word with a vague hand gesture.
“But then I find out you were never fucking Geralt and he says you’re just like that whatever the fuck that means. And I– ugh”
“And you thought I didn’t want something romantic with you and you were hurt so you pulled back.” Jaskier finished.
“Not exactly.” Lambert wouldn’t look at him and his hands were fidgeting like he needed something to hold, “You don’t have to love me, I would never– never expect that of you, but i just can’t stand being so close and not …having that.” Lambert seemed to sag under the weight of his confession and oh that mad Jaskier’s heart ache.
He quickly crossed the room to where the witcher was standing and looped his arms around his neck. Lambert looked up at him, tentative and confused.
“And what if I told you you could have that, we could have that.”
“Really?”
“You think I would flirt like that if I wasn’t serious?”
“You’ve literally made out with Geralt. Tongue and everything.” Lambert reached up to wrap his arms around Jaskier’s waist.
“What’s a little kiss between friends?”
“You’re an idiot”
“Hmmm, but your idiot?”
“Yeah, sure”
Lambert just pulled him closer and his smile was bright as anything.
7 notes · View notes
astaldis · 2 years
Link
Tumblr media
Chapters: 7/13 Prompt: Potion Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Fringilla Vigo, Anna Henrietta | Anarietta/Jaskier | Dandelion, Angoulême & Anna Henrietta, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach & Jaskier | Dandelion, Maria Barring | Milva & Fringilla Vigo, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia & Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Emiel Regis Rohellec Terzieff-Godefroy, Maria Barring | Milva, Jaskier | Dandelion, Cahir Mawr Dyffryn aep Ceallach, Angoulême (The Witcher), Anna Henrietta | Anarietta, Fringilla Vigo Additional Tags: Witcher Trick or Treat Halloween Event, Trick Or Treat Prompts Challenge, sfw, Humour, Some Swearing, Too much alcohol, Non-Explicit Sex, breakfast in Beauclair, Hangover, Friendship, light spoilers for The Witcher book series, Geralt/Regis (implied), Jaskier/Cahir (implied), Milva/Fringilla (implied), Witcher trick or treat 2022 Summary:
While Geralt's Hanza is staying in Beauclair, the famous fall event is coming up. An event the Witcher cannot refuse to take part in, even if he has to dress up for it. However, not everything goes as planned and the members of the Hanza are in for some surprises. Blame it on the grape punch. Or is it the bard's fault after all?
... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ...
Everything is ready and looking deliciously delectable. Well, not only looking, but tasting, too. Of course he has to meticulously monitor the progress of the process. Which means rightful and repeated testing of the taste. Under his watchful eye and with his expertise it is going to be the perfect punch for the famous fall event. Loads of purplish black grape halves are already floating happily in the dark red liquid that is, almost up to the brim, filling the huge copper cauldron standing in the centre of the wine cellar of Beauclair Castle. After having shooed the servants out, he once again refills the small crystal glass with punch to check the colour and consistency. Yes, now it has precisely the desired degree of bubbliness and, in contrast to inside the cauldron, its colour in the glass is of an oddly opalescent, purplish pink. Exactly as it should be. And the taste, Melitele's tits! He takes another sip, closes his eyes and smacks his lips. Gods, how gorgeously grapey and exceedingly exciting. Thrillingly tingly on the tongue, too. Decidedly delightful and worthy of a poem. But not quite yet. One last and very special ingredient is still missing. The special ingredient that will make the fall masquerade so much more memorable and loads more fun...
Continue reading on Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41477553/chapters/104680731
Tumblr media
5 notes · View notes