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wren-of-the-woods · 1 year

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Of Magic, Meddling, and Mice

When Jaskier leaves his prison cell together with Geralt, Gordon tags along. This changes far more than one would think.

(Gordon may not quite be the ordinary mouse everyone expects him to be.)

Rated T, part one out of two. Also on AO3! Edit: Part two can be found here!

Pain.

Mountains, earth, violence, trees, strangling creeping green entwining grasping clutching hurting bloodying killing stealing warping—

Cellar, cell, violence, bars, fiery questioning overpowering fearful helpless lonely loving hurting bloodied aching—

Destiny frowned to herself. She shook her head.

No.

She reached into the threads of fate, tangled her hands in the entwined melody of the universe’s song, and pulled.

Jaskier always had a penchant for trying to befriend anything that walked or breathed, so it was really no surprise that he became attached to the mice in his cell.

The moment he heard the skittering of their little feet, he knew he was done for. Their fur looked soft. Their noses twitched in the most adorable way. It was inevitable that he would end up loving them.

And, well, he was lonely and hurting and scared. It was only natural that he reached for a bit of comfort.

They were, it turned out, surprisingly decent companions. They didn’t mind his talking, which made them a fair sight better than some people he could name. They sometimes even seemed to enjoy his singing. He tried to teach them to accompany him, which went about as well as could be expected. It was amusing, though, so that was all right.

They comforted him. Jaskier had never liked being alone, not even when he was a child. It was a part of why he had traveled with Geralt so often and a part of why Geralt’s absence had hit him so hard. The mice were sweet. They would not resent him for their own mistakes. They would not hide their feelings. He fed them and they liked him for it. It was nice.

But, while Jaskier loved all of his mice, he had to admit that Gordon was special.

Gordon didn’t shy away when Jaskier tried to pet him. Gordon climbed onto his hand with minimal protest, squeaking adorably. Gordon was undoubtedly the best of the mice at harmonizing. Gordon didn’t mind when Jaskier spoke or sang. Gordon, in fact, seemed delighted by the entertainment. Gordon’s company was a bright spot in the dark dankness of the dungeon, and Jaskier was grateful for it.

So, when Geralt arrived in all his broody, heroic glory, Jaskier found himself reluctant to leave the mouse behind. He turned around to say a final farewell to his new friends, and—

He felt a strange sensation on his leg, like tiny claws clambering upwards. He looked down just in time to see the end of a tiny tail disappear into his coat’s pocket. He grinned to himself, turned, and left the cell with a lighter heart than before.

It seemed that Gordon appreciated his friendship even more than he had thought.

It took Geralt embarrassingly long to notice Jaskier’s pet.

In his defense, he was distracted. It was not as though he had the leisure to devote all his attention to Jaskier as he might, despite all his attempts to deny it, have once done. He was caught in a desperate race against time with his daughter’s life and possibly the fate of the Continent at stake.

Retrospectively, it probably should have occurred to him that it was not normal to hear two heartbeats coming from the direction of Jaskier’s coat. As it was, he had not even noticed the anomaly. Geralt spared a second to be glad that none of his brothers were around to see this — they would have given him so much shit.

Especially Eskel. But he wasn’t thinking about that.

It was not until Jaskier decided to bathe in a mountain lake — it seemed silly to Geralt, but he didn’t have the heart to refuse the bard, and he couldn’t help but think that perhaps if Jaskier bathed then he would no longer be surrounded by that complicated mixture of scents, both new and old and all soaked through with adrenaline, that Geralt could barely parse — until then, when Jaskier handed Geralt his coat, that Geralt finally noticed that something was moving in one of the pockets.

He frowned at the coat. Jaskier was saying something about cold and nipples. Geralt ignored him. There was a faint, fast heartbeat coming from the pocket. It began to squeak. Geralt's medallion was vibrating slightly, but he could not tell if it was due to the creature or the ambient magic from whatever glamors or charms Jaskier had paid someone to add to the coat.

The pocket wriggled. Then, out of the top, a tiny snout emerged. It was quickly followed by the rest of a head and two little paws. The mouse stared at Geralt. It looked, to Geralt’s startled imagination, rather judgemental. It squeaked.

Geralt blinked at it for a moment. It looked like one of Jaskier’s mice from the cell. He vaguely remembered having seen it in Jaskier's hand before Geralt had got past the guard. He hadn’t noticed Jaskier picking it up, but he had been in a hurry. It was entirely possible he’d missed it.

The mouse squeaked again. It sounded rather insistent. Geralt frowned at it.

Then Jaskier said something about blood, reminding Geralt of what he’d actually meant to ask the bard, and then there was an axe and the dwarves and Yennefer and Voleth Meir, and, despite the mouse’s regular squeaking, Geralt almost forgot about it entirely.

Jaskier was surprised by how excited Gordon seemed when he first saw Kaer Morhen.

The mouse climbed out of Jaskier’s pocket so quickly that he almost overbalanced and fell onto the snowy ground. He stayed like that as Jaskier entered the keep, met the witchers, and went to find somewhere to sleep. He even squeaked as though in greeting every time Jaskier encountered a new witcher. It was, quite frankly, endearing.

Jaskier might have wondered about it more if he had been in a better state of mind, but he was exhausted and cold and worried about Geralt. He found a room that seemed unoccupied and was blessedly asleep within moments, Gordon curled up beside his head.

Jaskier did not stay asleep for long.

It was Gordon who noticed that something was wrong with Ciri. He woke Jaskier by insistently squeaking and pawing at his face and, before Jaskier could sleepily swat at him for interrupting his slumber, he ran to the door of the room. He stood there, waiting, as Jaskier glared at him. He squeaked.

“Do you want me to follow you?” asked Jaskier, running a hand over his face.

“Squeak.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“Squeak.”

“Squeak once for no or twice for yes.”

“Squeak squeak.”

Jaskier’s brow furrowed. “Huh.”

Gordon looked at him expectantly.

“You are a very strange mouse.”

“Squeak squeak.”

Jaskier stared at him for another moment, then shrugged.

He followed the mouse, stumbling through dimly-lit and rather treacherous passageways. Gordon led him to Ciri’s room. It was empty. Gordon set off again. Jaskier was just about to give up when they arrived at another witcher’s room. He sighed, pushed open the door, and—

Saw Ciri, standing over the sleeping witcher with a terrifyingly cold look in her eyes and a knife in her hand.

Jaskier shouted, loud and piercing. The witcher woke and, after a panicked few seconds, disarmed Ciri and took her to the floor. Ciri flailed, hissing. Jaskier ran for help.

Things devolved into chaos for a very long while, after that.

Geralt noticed that Jaskier’s mouse seemed very intent on watching the witchers heal.

It seemed to have given up on squeaking insistently at Geralt. It was never very loud. It would simply sneak out of Jaskier’s room or pocket or wherever else the bard had attempted to confine it for its own safety, make its way quietly to the place where Geralt’s brothers lay in what passed for Kaer Morhen’s healing room, climb up on a side table, and watch.

Thanks to Jaskier’s early warning, none of the witchers had died. Several were very badly wounded, though, and they spent much of their time asleep. Those of them who were more or less healthy took turns watching over them. Apparently, so did the mouse.

To Geralt, it began to feel like an odd sort of companionship. He, too, spent rather more of his time than was strictly necessary, when he was not training Ciri or otherwise busy, here with his brothers. The mouse was not bad company. It was no Roach — nothing could rival Roach — but it almost came close with its quiet breathing and its small, calm presence. It was almost like a friend. It was, in some ways, strangely familiar. Somehow, it reminded him of brotherly banter, warm hands, and a familiar set of scars on a face he knew as well as his own.

But Geralt wasn’t thinking about that.

Geralt began to keep an eye out for the mouse. He quickly realized that he had been missing out by not having done so before; it was, as it turned out, immensely amusing to watch Jaskier try to sneak food to a mouse without attracting anyone’s attention. The mouse seemed to keep Jaskier’s spirits up when dark thoughts tried to catch up to him, which Geralt appreciated.

The more attention Geralt payed, the more he noticed the way the mouse watched the witchers. It would observe them from Jaskier’s pocket during meals. Sometimes, it moved almost like it was going to scamper off towards one of them, only to hold itself back at the last moment.

Geralt was very busy. He worked to repair the keep, to train and comfort Ciri, to rebuild his relationship with Yennefer, to plan for the future, and to keep an eye on Jaskier. He was occupied with very, very many things.

If it weren’t for that, he liked to think, he would have realized that something was off far sooner.

Jaskier was in an abandoned corner of the keep with Gordon when Yennefer found them.

He was still without a lute or any other musical instrument. He was also becoming rather bored. There was not much use for a bard with limited talents outside of storytelling and song in a keep full of battle-scarred witchers, and he did not have the courage to bother Geralt like he might once have done. He tried his best to be patient, but eventually the dullness became too much for him to bear.

He gathered as many pieces of silverware, bottles, and bowls as he could find. He did not want to irritate the exhausted witchers, so he took them to the safest abandoned room he could find. He brought Gordon with him. He had found that the mouse was the most effective way to combat the loneliness that sometimes threatened to engulf him. His presence staved off the violent memories that tried to haunt him.

When he heard soft footsteps in the corridor outside the room, Jaskier stopped his attempts at creating a bowl-based percussion system. Yennefer poked her head through the doorway.

“There you are,” she said. “I’ve been looking. Dinner’s almost—”

She paused, her eyes fixed on Gordon.

“What’s that?” she asked, her voice cautious.

Jaskier frowned. “This is Gordon. Haven’t you met him?”

“No,” said Yennefer with a deepening frown, “What is he?”

“Um,” said Jaskier, “He’s a mouse.”

“No he’s not.”

Jaskier blinked. “What?”

Yennefer continued to stare at Gordon. Jaskier followed her gaze. Gordon had perked up from where he had been half-asleep on a pot and was meeting Yennefer’s gaze. He squeaked. He looked oddly excited.

“What exacting are you trying to say he is?” asked Jaskier nervously. “I mean, I had kind of guessed that he wasn’t precisely a normal mouse, but are you sure he isn’t just… clever?”

“His mind feels like a human’s would,” said Yennefer grimly. She turned to Jaskier. “Take your friend and come with me.”

Hastily getting to his feet and scooping up Gordon, Jaskier followed her out of the room. She led him to the laboratory. Geralt and Lambert were already there and appeared to be making potions. They looked up as Yennefer entered, tugging Jaskier behind her.

“I need the table,” Yennefer said. Lambert opened his mouth as though to protest, but when Geralt saw the look on her face he elbowed his brother and began to clear some space for her.

Yennefer took Gordon from Jaskier and set him on the table, studying him intently. Gordon squeaked.

“What’s going on?” asked Lambert.

“Yennefer doesn’t think that Gordon is a mouse,” said Jaskier.

“Hmm,” said Geralt helpfully.

“May I look into your mind?” Yennefer asked Gordon.

Gordon nodded emphatically. Lambert’s eyes widened.

Yennefer gently put two fingers on Gordon’s head. They both closed their eyes. Jaskier, Geralt, and Lambert watched with bated breath as they stood there silently for several minutes.

Eventually, Yennefer opened her eyes and stepped back. Gordon shook himself and then looked at her eagerly.

“Well?” asked Jaskier.

“He’s definitely not a mouse,” said Yennefer.

“What the fuck is he, then?” asked Lambert, his eyes narrowing. Behind him, Geralt watched in tense silence.

Yennefer took a deep breath.

“Well,” she said slowly, “He says his name is Eskel.”

#the witcher #jaskier #gordon #twn #geralt #the witcher fanfiction #wren writes #behold my silly lil fix-it!! i'm fond of this one #the second part should be up within a week #it's all written i just have to edit and fact-check!#enjoy!#sorry not sorry for the plot twist/cliffhanger <3

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fandom-junk-drawer · 2 years

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The Witcher Headcanon - Trouble Bonus Scene - Part 2

Here's part 2, with a little surprise at the end!

@hollowxo @kierancaz

It was Jaskier who had woken up Geralt. The Witcher had fallen asleep with the baby on his chest, and was rudely awakened by said baby on his chest. Whose mouth was on him, and doing something he'd rather not talk about...

Geralt tried not to panic. He flapped a hand helplessly for a moment, before roughly patting at Yennefer's shoulder and whispering harshly.

Yen, Yen wake up! Yen, get him off!

Yennefer woke with a grumble that turned into a stifled laugh when she saw what had Geralt so bothered.

Don't just lay there and laugh! Do something! Get him off!

I told you not to sleep without a shirt! *giggle snort*

Stop f***ing laughing and help me! I'm serious, Yen!

Just stick your finger in the corner of his mouth!

Owowowow, F**K!

Stop pulling!

hE's BiTiNg mEEEEEEE!

Stick your finger-!

OW! F**K! I smell blood! I smell blood!

Oh, for f**ksake! There, you big baby!

Oh, don't be so dramatic, it is NOT 'hanging on by a scrap of skin'! It's just a little bite.

There! I fixed it, now stop whining!

Oh, hush and look on the bright side. Eskel is going to be so jealous when he sees your Love Bite!

"Awww, poor lamb! Did Geralt's screaming scare you awake? Shhh, shhhh, shhh, it's alright! "

Since they were all up now, Yennefer decided to take Jaskier with her to the market. He was feeling better, and she wanted to get him the things he would need until she could figure out exactly what the curse was, and how to break it.

Yennefer stolled through the market, making her purchases and passing them to Coen, Eskel, or Lambert, whose sole purpose was to carry anything she handed them. Geralt was walking besider her, busy trying to look like a big, scary Witcher while carrying an adorable baby who was sucking his thumb and looking at everything with big, curious eyes.

The first thing she bought was diapers and clothes, and Jaskier was now dressed in a loose, fine white linen shirt with little multi colored birds embroidered on the front, lace at the ruffled cuffs and neck, and a pair of peacock blue trousers. Even Geralt admitted that the pattern and colors suited him.

The trip was taking a bit longer than Geralt and his brothers would have liked. For one thing, Yennefer was being very choosy about what she bought. Second, they kept getting stopped. People looked at Yennefer, with Geralt at her elbow, carrying Jaskier, and inspite of all the rumors about Witchers, just assumed...

"Excuse me, Miss, but your son is beautiful!"

"Thank you!" Yennefer said modestly, playing along and chatting with the ladies, while Geralt stood there uncomfortably, holding Jaskier who kicked his chubby legs and babbled happily at the attention.

Geralt gave an awkward 'Hmm.' when the women's admiring gazes turned to him after Yennefer, amused by his discomfort, threw him under the bus with her comment of "You're pretty like your daddy, aren't you, Julek?"

He could hear his brothers snickering from a safe distance away.

The ladies fawned over Jaskier, talking to him, and telling him how pretty he was. The toddler seemed to know he was being adored and turned on the charm, babbling and smiling for his admirers.

Yennefer recognized that smile. She'd seen him use it often enough when chasing a lady. It was that sweet, beautiful smile that lit up his face and was disgustingly adorable. No wonder it worked so well. He'd been practicing it since birth!

"Alright, say 'bye' to the nice ladies, my sweet lamb," Yennefer said, finally taking pity on Geralt.

Jaskier babbled, then pressed his little hand to his mouth and blew the ladies kisses. The women squealed with glee and blew kisses back while Yennefer and Geralt both stood there thinking You little sh*t!

Geralt 'hmm'ed his discomfort once the women had gone.

"Oh, don't get so worked up over it, " Yennefer chided as she dragged Geralt to the next market stall, "There's no point in correcting them. What are going to say, anyway? 'That's not my son, it's my BFF who'se got a curse on him that turned him into a toddler?' "

Well, if she wanted to play that game... Geralt said nothing, but from then on, he made it his private mission to get Jaskier to call Yennefer 'Ma' in public.

While he followed Yennefer, biding his time, he realized something. Babies were manipulative little creatures. There was no malice behind it, only base survival instinct. Every time a baby cried, the parents were right there, giving it things until it stopped. Food, comfort, entertainment, crying was the only way to express that need when you couldn't talk. Or when your vocabulary was limited to three or four words.

Jaskier, at the moment was no different. Geralt marveled at how easily he could wrap them around his tiny finger. The moment he started fussing, Geralt and Yennefer were giving him their full attention.

He was now happily playing with a wooden spoon. Geralt didn't know what it was about the spoon that had fascinated him. It was just a plain cedar spoon. There was nothing really remarkable about it, but he'd reached for it, babbling, and looked at Yennefer with his bottom lip trembling when she'd told him 'No'. He'd turned to Geralt with a whimper and made a little grasping motion with his hand, his cherubic face pinching up.

"Geralt...No! Geralt! No, Geralt!" Yennefer had hissed at him as Jaskier had made desperate whimpering noises. Geralt had glanced at Yennefer, then back at Jaskier, and looked into those pretty eyes that were now very dewey. And sad. And his thick eyelashes were getting damp with tears. And his little bottom lip was sticking out. And the sunlight hit his soft brown mop of hair just right... Oh, gods, he was trapped! He could feel his hand moving of it's own volition...

"No! Don't! Don't you do it! No, Geralt! Geralt, don't you dare...Geralt! Geralt! Geralt, no!"

Geralt handed the stall owner the coins and the spoon was placed in Jaskier's tiny hands. Yennefer glared at Geralt and was about to make what was surely going to be a sarcastic comment, when Jaskier dropped his spoon. He started to cry, and Yennefer immediately picked it back up, shushing him as she wiped it off and handed it back.

"Shhh, shhh, lamb! Here! Here it is! Ma picked it up for you-!"

Geralt sucked his lips into his mouth, biting down hard to keep the smile at bay as Yennefer's expression went wooden when she realized what she'd said. She looked sharply at Geralt, who refused to look at her.

He was trying desperately not to smile. The man was fighting for his life. Standing far enough away that they wouldn't be associated with the 'happy family', Lambert, Eskel, and Coen were ugly laughing.

And right on cue, a young lady shyly came over to admire their child.

Geralt whispered something to the toddler, who held out his spoon to Yennefer and chirped "Ma!" . Yennefer smiled and took him from Geralt, glaring at the Witcher while the lady was distracted.

You a**!

*Smug mental 'Hmm'*

Eskel elbowed Lambert in the ribs and twitched an eyebrow, then strode up and said excitedly "Hey, Geralt, Yennefer, you're here too?" as he scooped Jaskier out of Yennefer's arms.

"Oh, look at you, Baby Bird! You're getting so big! Are you out shopping with your Ma?" Jaskier chortled and kicked happily, and said "Ma!" again. "You're talking now, Julek?! That's right, 'Ma'!" Eskel continued when Jaskier squealed 'Ma' again. "Where's Ma? Where's she at? There she is! There's your Ma!"

Jaskier chuckled and chanted 'Ma!' happily as he reached for his 'Ma'. Yennefer smiled and mentally committed murder as she took him back from Eskel.

Geralt was going to dip the f**k out while everyone was distracted, but just as he was turning to go, he was stopped in his tracks at Jaskier's whimpered "Da!"

F**k.

Yennefer smiled like a shark scenting blood. "You want your Da, Julek? Here, let daddy hold you!"

Geralt took the toddler back, shifting his weight from foot to foot in a gentle swaying motion until Jaskier stopped fussing.

"Awww, the poor little dove thought you were leaving!" the young lady said, with a soft laugh. Eskel laughed along with her.

"Don't worry, Julek. Your Da wasn't going anywere!" he said, patting Jaskier's back.

"That's right, lamb, he wasn't going anywhere. Right, Geralt?" Yennefer said, smiling pointedly at Geralt.

"Of course not," Geralt rumbled, flashing Eskel a glare for his betrayal. Geralt had forgotten that Eskel was nobody's friend when it came to games. Eskel was the Gen-Xer of Witchers. He would start sh*t just for the entertainment value.

"Oh, look, Julek, there's your Uncle Lambert! Eskel exclaimed as Lambert walked by, pretending to be there alone. "Hey, Lambchop!" Eskel called, waving at the other Witcher "Over here! Look who it is!"

Lambert jogged over and grinned, saying "Geralt! Yennefer! How have you been? " He turned and called to Coen, who was lingering a healthy distance away, holding all the stuff Yennefer had bought. "Hey, Coen, It's little Julek! Come say hi!"

Coen could see the murderous looks Yennefer and Geralt were giving him from where he was standing. He decided he didn't want any of that.

"Er, I'm going to take this stuff to the horses. I'll catch up with you later. Maybe we can meet somewhere for lunch." And he turned and walked away at record speed.

"Wow, look at how big that baby is getting!" Lambert said, after giving Coen's retreating form a scowl. He put his arms out, and Jaskeir made happy baby noises and grabbed at Lambert's hands. "Come here, little man! You having fun shopping with your Ma and Da?" Jaskier babbled at Lambert and peeped "Ma! Da!"

The young woman stood there, smiling and re evaluating her opinion on Witchers. They certainly didn't seem all that scary, especially when they were being so soft with the little toddler... She watched as they took turns blowing raspberries on his little stomach.

Jaskier patted at Lambert's beard, momentarily distracted by it, and squealed delightedly when Lambert pretened to eat his hand. "What a lovely spoon! Did Ma and Da buy that for you?"

"Ma! Da!"

Yennefer mentally dug a second hole to bury the body in while Geralt mentally drew his sword to commit the murder.

"That's right! Say it again!" Lambert encouraged. Jaskier laughed and giggled, saying 'Ma' and 'Da' while the Witcher smiled proudly. "That's my boy! Talking already! He passed Jaskier back to Geralt when the baby chirped "Da!" and reached for him.

"F**k, they grow up so fast!" Lambert sighed wistfully.

Jaskier chuckled like a little gremlin and said "F**k!"

Yennefer and Geralt winced and did the Awkward Parent Laugh before muttering embarrased appologies for their child's language. The young lady gave them an understanding look, smiling brightly at Jaskier as he giggled and blew her a kiss. She bid them a good day and went about her errands.

The second the young lady was gone, Yennefer had Eskel and Lambert by an ear each, before they could even move, and was dragging them back to the horses.

"That's right, Jaskier," Geralt chuckled as Jaskier blew the retreating figures a kiss, "Kiss their a**es goodbye, because 'Ma' is going to kill them!"...

Bonus Doodle: Geralt holding baby!jaskier at the market

#the witcher #the witcher headcanon #geralt #geralt of rivia #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geraskifer #kaer morons #lambert #eskel #coen #baby!jaskier #twn #the witcher netflix #geraskefer #trouble headcanon

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spilledbutter · 2 years

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Summary: Jaskier is convinced his feelings for Eskel are unrequited-that they're just good friends and roommates. It takes a week of courting for this to change. Jaskier/Eskel | Rated: T | WC: 4k | CW: implied sex

For my new friend @firefly-party--thanks for being so sweet!!

------

It had been a very confusing week, to say the least.

It wasn’t that Eskel seemed… upset with him, per se. The other man was acting his normal self, mostly. They still went for Sunday brunch with Yen, Geralt, Lambert, Aiden, and Triss, like they did every week. When he got home late from one of his weekly gigs, there were still leftovers waiting for him in the fridge, just like always. He and his roommate-slash-friend still hung out whenever they could, staying up late sitting on the couch next to each other, chatting long into the night with matching mugs of tea. It was nice, peaceful, just like it’d always been.

So things were the same, really. Well. Except for a few new developments in their relationship lately.

It had started after brunch on Sunday. He and Eskel were walking the few blocks home to their shared apartment, talking and laughing, when the other man had stopped him with a gentle hand on his wrist.

“Eskel? What is it?”

The other man had looked at him, intense hazel eyes focused on Jaskier’s face. His full lips were set into a soft smile, rugged scars pulling slightly at his upper lip, and his slightly-too-long chocolate locks ruffling in the gentle breeze. He looked dashing in his red flannel today, Jaskier thought, the two buttons undone at the top showing off a light dusting of chest hair across well-defined pecs. He was stunning, as always.

Eskel slowly raised one scarred hand towards Jaskier’s face, pausing before gently brushing his fingers through Jaskier’s hair. Unwittingly, Jaskier felt his heart start to pound, a delicate flush coming to his cheeks. What…?

“Esk…?”

Eskel’s soft smile turned into a small grin and he dropped his hand unceremoniously. “Sorry. Had something in your hair.”

Without further ado, he turned forward to keep walking, leaving Jaskier flabbergasted in his wake. Jaskier stared after him, eyebrows furrowing, trying to puzzle together the reason behind the casual affection.

“You coming, songbird?” Eskel looked back at him over his shoulder, waiting once he realized Jaskier wasn’t following.

With a start, Jaskier rushed after him, and let the moment pass as a fluke as soon as Eskel picked up the previous train of their conversation. He didn’t give it much further thought, although if had more spring in his step the rest of the day, that was his business alone.

—-

On Monday, Jaskier woke up after a particularly bad night of sleep. His battle with insomnia was never ending, made even worse by a midnight visit from his muse. He wrote and wrote, the words pouring out of him, and before he realized, it was 3am. He finally stumbled into bed, tossing and turning for a couple more hours, before falling into a fitful sleep. A too-short while later, he woke to the grating sound of his alarm at 9am, needing to get going to his day job.

Groggy and groaning, he had staggered out of his bedroom, having barely gotten dressed properly. He didn’t have the energy to make anything to eat despite his stomach rumbling. Sighing and checking the time, he prepared to skip breakfast and coffee that day, before he spotted something on the kitchen counter.

A neatly packed lunch sack and thermos sat there, which he knew couldn’t belong to Eskel as he’d needed to leave early this morning for a project on the other side of the city. Which meant…

Stepping closer, Jaskier picked up the note sitting atop the lunch sack, his jaw falling slack as he read.

“Heard you awake late last night and figured you might be tired this morning. Hope this helps. Have a good day. -E.”

To say the least, his morning was considerably brighter after that. He practically skipped all the way to the train.

—-

On Tuesday, they were both home, perusing the fridge as they brainstormed what to make for dinner. Eskel popped out of the fridge with a triumphant aha!, having found enough ingredients to make a serviceable pasta.

Jaskier was washing his hands in the sink when Eskel sidled over to him, coming close enough for their shoulders to brush.

“Can you chop these, Jask?” Eskel’s deep voice felt close, very close, in Jaskier’s ear, although to an outward observer he was still a polite enough distance away. Jaskier felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand to attention, every pore of his being focusing on the man behind him.

“Uh- sure, yes, of course.” Eskel smiled, giving his tricep a fond squeeze, before he moved away to find the noodles in the cupboard. Jaskier walked almost in a daze toward the cabinet where they kept the cutting boards, stopping to grab a knife from the block before he began chopping.

Their galley-style kitchen was tight, so they kept brushing up against each other as they worked quietly on their meal together. The radio played faintly in the background, and Jaskier smiled as he heard Eskel humming along. His voice was slightly off-key and the kitchen was cozy and Jaskier felt a strong sense of home. It was… nice.

Eskel had just set the water boiling on the stove for the pasta when he came back over to Jaskier.

“Can I take those?” And again, he was close, so close, his hand resting lightly on the small of Jaskier’s back. Jaskier’s skin felt like it was on fire where Eskel touched him, a shiver running lightly up his spine, despite the fabric between their skin.

Wordlessly, Jaskier nodded and handed the cut vegetables over, and moved to pour them each a glass of wine. They prepared the rest of the meal in companionable silence.

Sipping at his glass of red and leaning against the counter, Jaskier watched Eskel as he finished cooking their meal. Jaskier wasn’t sure what to make of it all, really. He and Eskel had always been–-affectionate, yes, exchanging casual touches without much thought, but these–these felt different, somehow. The energy around them in the last few days felt charged, the tension between them rising as the days passed. And it wasn’t unpleasant, he wasn’t uncomfortable (on the contrary, really), but he just… didn’t understand what was going on.

He and Eskel had known each other for a few years now–it was inevitable, really, what with Jaskier being Geralt’s best friend and Eskel being Geralt’s brother. They’d just been friends at first, seeing each other occasionally when their mutual friend group met up, up until a year ago when Eskel’s former roommate moved out. He’d found himself needing a new one right when Jaskier had been going through a break-up with his ex, and the timing had really just worked out perfectly. The last year of Jaskier’s home life had been easier than ever, Eskel being easy to live with and good company to boot. They got to know each other more and more, finding themselves drawn together at first due to proximity and then instead choosing to spend their free evenings together by choice.

But the other man had never expressed interest in more. Jaskier had hinted, in the beginning, at his attraction. He wasn’t blind, for fuck’s sake. The other man was gorgeous, kind and smart and talented and caring and selfless and just so, so good–these facts only became more apparent the longer they’d known each other. There was no way anyone wouldn’t be attracted to dear, sweet Eskel. However, Eskel had either been oblivious to Jaskier’s subtle flirtatiousness or totally uninterested, and having found the perfect roommate-best friend scenario, Jaskier had been loathe to fuck it up by pressing the issue of his feelings. So he put a cork in it, and that was that.

But now…

“Songbird? Are you alright?” Eskel was looking at him with mild concern in his eyes, had placed a hand on his shoulder.

Jaskier startled, realizing he’d fallen too deeply into his thoughts. He shook himself out of it, deciding to let sleeping wolves lie. If it became apparent that Eskel was interested in more, if this all meant something more, Jaskier would be only too happy to oblige. But he wouldn’t push, would never push, having learned that lesson too well in the past.

“Yeah, Esk. I’m fine. Let’s go eat, yeah? I want to watch another episode of that shitty sitcom,” Jaskier grinned, picking up his plate and heading toward their ratty old couch.

—-

On Wednesday, Jaskier had been in the middle of a too-long shift at the music store with customers who didn’t know a guitar from a bass, and he was tired. The day was dragging on and on, and he still had four hours left before he could hop on the first train home. All he could think about was getting out of his itchy work uniform and rolling himself into a blanket burrito so tight the world couldn’t find its way in. He was caught up in those rather pleasant thoughts when his phone chimed with a ping in his pocket.

Glancing around to make sure the lobby was free of customers, Jaskier slipped his phone out and unlocked it. His heart fluttered when he saw it was a message from Eskel.

“Hey. You coming home after work?”

Jaskier quickly text back, “hi! yeah, i’m honestly beat. can’t wait to crawl into bed... 😩”

A few minutes went by without a response from Eskel, and soon enough, a teenaged girl and her snotty-looking mother came in, distracting him from his phone.

A few hours later, Jaskier trudged up the steps to their apartment, ready to shut his brain down. Upon making his way inside, he looked around, expecting Eskel’s presence in the kitchen or the living room like normal. He was nowhere to be seen.

“Eskel? You here?” Jaskier called out as he hopped around on one foot, trying to take off his boots.

He heard a small crash from the direction of the bathroom, and a minute later, Eskel emerged, looking slightly flustered.

“Hi,” he said, sounding almost breathless. “Um, how was work?”

Jaskier blinked, distracted by the pretty pink settled high on Eskel’s cheeks, but took the bait easily enough and charged headfirst into a rant about functional music theory and the annoyances of dealing with middle schoolers parents.

Eskel had been nodding along distractedly, but eventually cleared his throat, rubbing at the scars on his face in a nervous gesture.

“Jask, I, uh… I drew you a bath.”

Jaskier blinked owlishly again, feeling equal measures confused and intrigued by the shy, bashful Eskel he was presented with today. “You what?”

“I figured you’d want to relax after work. I know you like taking baths,” Eskel grinned sheepishly, “I used some of those fancy salts you like. Come on.”

Eskel came closer, taking Jaskier’s satchel from him and placing it on the table by the door. He ushered him towards the bathroom with a gentle hand on his shoulder, Jaskier easily letting himself be led. When they got there, Jaskier gasped.

The tub was filled and Jaskier could smell the delicate scents of chamomile and mint mingling in the air (his favorite). There was a glass of wine perched on the side of the tub along with the book he’d been reading recently. Eskel had also lit a few candles around the room, the dim lighting creating a welcoming, homey atmosphere. Jaskier instantly felt relaxed and immensely touched.

The thought that Eskel’d gone out of his way to do this for Jaskier brought a warm, giddy feeling to his chest. He couldn’t help himself as he wrapped his arms around the other man’s shoulders in a hug and kissed his cheek.

“Eskel, you darling man, this is so sweet. I… I’m almost at a loss for words. Thank you, dear heart.”

Eskel, for his part, blushed a beautiful cherry right up to his ears. But he was smiling while he did, smiling Jaskier’s smile, the one that made his eyes crinkle at the edges and his eyes smolder a warm shade of honey.

The room was too small, the air getting too hot, with Eskel looking at him like that. Jaskier needed space from this moment before he did something stupid and ruined what was between them.

“I should–I should get in there, before the water gets cold. Don’t want to waste all of your hard work,” Jaskier said with a rueful smile.

The moment broken successfully, Eskel took a step back toward the door, returning Jaskier’s rueful smile with one of his own.

“Enjoy yourself, and please relax. I’ll order some Thai from the place down the street for dinner. No rush.”

And with that, he was gone, leaving Jaskier to his thoughts and his anguished yearning.

—-

On Thursday, they both wound up having an unexpected day off. Jaskier had been booked to fill a last minute cancellation at an exclusive gig in town on Friday and he desperately needed something to wear. He begged Eskel to come shopping with him, and with nary a sigh, they both set out to browse the thrift stores in the arts district, picking up coffee on the way.

They looked around for a while, ambling from shop to shop, before Jaskier came upon a true object of beauty. It was perfect. A waist-length, cherry-red leather jacket in just his size, both sexy and understated. It was the perfect thing for his gig. He put it on, looking at himself in the mirror, and felt alluring and provocative and powerful. He did a spin, looking at himself from different angles, before turning to Eskel, wanting a second opinion.

“What do you think? How does it look?” He wasn’t fishing for compliments, but he wouldn’t turn them down, either.

Eskel was watching him from under his eyelashes, gazing at him with a look Jaskier couldn’t decipher. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think it was a mixture of hunger and longing and wistfulness. But that couldn’t be true, he must be projecting his own feelings onto the other man.

Eskel took slow, measured steps towards him and smoothed his big, strong, delicious hands down Jaskier’s shoulders. He fiddled with the jacket’s collar, straightening it, before finally looking back into Jaskier’s eyes.

“You look perfect, songbird,” he smiled, making no effort to remove his hands. “You should buy it.”

Jaskier positively beamed, bolstered by both the physical touch and the words, before glancing at the tag. He balked, seeing the price, thoughts flashing across his mind of the phone bill due soon and the groceries they’d just bought. He did some quick mental calculations and determined he couldn’t afford it, at least not right now.

He aimed a tight smile back up at Eskel, aiming for disinterested instead of disappointed. “Actually, I’ve just remembered. I think I have something just like this at home. No need to spend the coin.”

Eskel watched him worriedly as he hung the jacket up and put it back on the rack. With one last mournful glance, he strode out of the shop, Eskel in tow.

They walked around for a while longer, stopping to have a quick lunch, before Eskel suddenly checked his phone.

“Jask, I’ve just remembered I have an errand I need to run. The place closes in an hour so I need to get over there before then.”

Jaskier was already nodding, ready to go with him, but Eskel shook his head.

“No need, I’ll be home by dinner. You should head back early, you still have some prep to do for tomorrow, right?”

Eskel was right, of course. Jaskier still had to tweak his setlist and he wanted to run through everything a few more times before dinner. Still, he hesitated. “Okay, if you’re sure. Hurry along though, I want your opinion on my set before I finalize it! You’re my biggest supporter, after all, “ he winked.

Eskel smiled, nodding, “Of course. I’ll see you at dinner,” and he hurried off.

Two hours later, Jaskier was fiddling with his guitar in the living room when Eskel came through the door of their apartment. Jaskier looked up with a smile, before his attention was drawn to the package in Eskel’s hands. He immediately put his guitar aside.

“Oooh, get anything good? Where’d you go, anyway? You never said,” Jaskier strode towards him, making grabby hands at the package so he could see what was inside.

Eskel easily kept it away from him, guiding him with a gentle hand back towards the couch. When they were both sat down, Eskel placed the package in his lap.

“Open it and find out,” Eskel said encouragingly.

Jaskier looked at him with a brow raised, not sure what to expect, before gingerly opening the package. He was truly awestruck by what was inside.

The beautiful cherry red jacket from earlier today lay there, neatly folded. Jaskier brushed his fingers over it reverently, struck completely silent.

“...But–But why–” He suddenly looked over to Eskel, remembering why he hadn’t bought the jacket in the first place. “Eskel, this is too much! You have to return this tomorrow! You are the sweetest, kindest, most wonderful man–I absolutely don’t know how you haven’t been snatched up yet, honestly–but I cannot accept this.”

There was a moment where he couldn’t look Eskel in the eye, couldn’t risk the feelings he’d kept so tightly locked up coming through on his face, plain for Eskel to see. And then the moment passed, and there was a large, warm hand on his thigh.

“Jaskier,” that deep, rumbling voice touched all the gooey parts inside of him as Eskel’s other hand made its way to Jaskier’s jaw. “You daft man. Don’t you know?”

Jaskier’s heart was beating so loudly he could hear it in his ears, and he was sure Eskel could hear it too, could feel it where his fingers brushed his throat. His eyes met Eskel’s, darting back and forth as he searched for the answers he was aching to find there. “Know what?”

Eskel hesitated for a fraction of a moment, before he surged forward, pressing his lips to Jaskier’s in a light, but heartbreaking kiss. His lips were soft and eager, their featherlight caress present for only a second before Eskel pulled back, pressing his forehead to Jaskier’s. For the second time this evening, Jaskier was struck silent and dumb, mouth gaping as he stared into those beautiful caramel eyes so close to his own.

“That every day, I wake up to thoughts of you. That every night, I fall asleep itching to have you in my arms. That every moment we spend together, I fall more in love with you.”

The tears welling up in Jaskier’s eyes were involuntary but inevitable, his shaky hands reaching to cover the ones cradling his face.

“Is that why… this week? Things have been-- different?”

Eskel takes a shaky breath, stroking his thumbs over Jaskier’s cheekbones. “Honestly? I kind of wanted to… court you.” Eskel’s face heated, though he refused to break contact with Jaskier’s eyes. “It’s silly, I know. But I wanted you to know how much I care for you. Did it work?”

Jaskier couldn’t help the watery laughter bubbling up in his throat so suddenly that he was helpless but to let it spill out. He broke into a smile bright like the sunrise, rubbing his nose gently against Eskel’s.

“Eskel, you absolutely ridiculous man. Wasn’t it obvious? I’ve felt–I feel the same way,” he felt the tightness in his throat release as he finally said the words that had been held there for so long, “I love you, so much.”

Despite their closeness, Eskel again turned slightly shy. He went to duck his head before Jaskier caught his face in his own hands, so full of joy he could absolutely burst.

Jaskier couldn’t help the small kisses he began pressing to Eskel’s cheeks, his chin, his nose, his brow. Eskel, for his part, finally released a husky laugh, pulling Jaskier into his lap. The jacket fell to the floor, forgotten for all of its significance.

Eskel grinned up at him, his face the picture of happiness. “All this time?”

Jaskier’s smile turned soft, eyes crinkling around the edges, just like the smile Eskel reserved for him and only him. “All this time.”

And this time, Jaskier brought his face down to meet Eskel’s, their lips meeting urgently. It was a searching kiss, seeking affirmation and reassurance; it was a wanting kiss, tongues meeting desperately after years of pent-up emotion and restraint. Hands tangled in hair and rumpled clothing and soon sweetness turned bright and blazing hot, delight and delectation turning to desire.

“You know,” Jaskier laughed breathlessly into Eskel’s mouth, pausing to nip at his jawline, “This is great–we can finally turn my room into a home office.”

Eskel chuckled, standing with hands firmly under Jaskier’s thighs and Jaskier’s legs wrapped securely around his waist. Eskel started trailing blistering kissing down the long column of Jaskier’s neck, and, oh, that was lovely. Jaskier easily lost his train of thought after that.

—-

On Friday, Jaskier was floating on a cloud.

Their friends had all showed up to his gig, sitting front and center in a show of support. The house was packed and Jaskier was proud to say he recognized many of the audience members from other shows he’d played around town. He was wearing his new jacket–right over a shirt charmingly large on his frame, which may or may not have belonged to his new boyfriend. Right before he was set to start, he took a deep inhale of its scent, feeling comforted by the smell of sandalwood and woodsmoke and Eskel. He felt like he could conquer the world.

They called him on stage shortly after. He sang his heart out, having changed his set to include a suspiciously large amount of ballads, and aimed them without regret at a certain bear of a man in the audience. He delighted in the red-stained cheeks his songs earned him, hoping for a more intimate performance later that evening.

Their friends hooted and hollered when he finished, but none quite so loud as Eskel, his Eskel, and wasn’t it funny that he could say that now?

—-

On Saturday, Jaskier woke in a tangle of limbs in Eskel’s large, comfortable bed. He lay motionless for a second, listening closely to Eskel’s still deep breathing, the rise and fall of his chest against Jaskier’s back steady and even. Sunlight was just barely peeking through the blinds, and although he knew it was early yet, he wanted to take advantage of this precious new opportunity. He turned carefully in Eskel’s arms to look at his sweet, sleeping face.

Eskel was the most beautiful like this, Jaskier thought. In the moments before the world was upon them–the responsibilities of daily life along with the feelings and expectations of other people–Eskel just… was. His posture held none of the usual tension, the lines around his eyes and mouth lax in the peace his dreams brought. His hair was an absolute mess, and Jaskier reached with a gentle finger to brush it out of his eyes. He stroked that same finger gingerly down the lines of Eskel’s brow, his proud nose, his tempting mouth, his sharp jaw. When he finally brought his eyes back up, he noticed tired, hazel orbs watching him in turn.

“‘S early. G’back t’ bed.” Eskel tugged him closer, pressing their foreheads together as his eyes closed again.

Jaskier pressed a kiss to Eskel’s lips, tasting his smile, and basked in the moment–hopefully the first of many, many more to come.

#asi writes #jaskel #jaskel fics #jaskier/eskel #jaskier/eskel fics #the witcher #witcher #jaskier x eskel #jaskier x eskel fics #witcher fanfiction #eskel #julian alfred pankratz #jaskier

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mothmanismyuncle · 2 years

Text

modern au. geraskier, established relationship. just a little comfort for the bard boy after a miserable day at work.

xoxoxo!!!

❦

geralt looked up from his book when he heard the door click shut and his husband peel off a soaked jacket. shoes were kicked; a bag was dropped; still, jaskier said nothing.

usually, geralt starts hearing his husband’s car radio from the moment it enters their neighbourhood. the quiet is alarming, to say the least, so geralt turns his book over and lays it on the couch, putting his reading glasses on his head.

“jaskier?” he calls trotting into the laundry room, where jaskier is shucking off his sodden work uniform.

“hello, love,” he replies huskily. “it’s raining.”

“it is,” geralt agrees. he turns the dryer back on, peering at the load of towels bouncing around. “why don’t you take a nice shower? warm you up,”

“‘kay,” jaskier acquiesced, slinking into the bathroom. geralt frowned after him.

typically, getting jaskier to shower right after work takes some cajoling, several bribes on both sides, all that.

today, the water turns on without any music to cover the sound, and geralt hears jaskier snuffle to himself before a small, broken sound escapes.

he won’t walk in on his husband crying. he won’t embarrass him when he waited until the shower was on and put on a face for geralt in the laundry room.

that’s what geralt chanted to himself, anyway, while he heaped blankets up on the bed and jogged back into the kitchen.

he took a small container out of the cabinet and double checked the instructions. only a bit of water and a minute in the microwave, and jaskier would have a sweet treat waiting for him in the nest geralt was building.

he gathered some water bottles, a sandwich, and jaskier’s favourite of geralt’s tee shirts that geralt thankfully had to save from the hamper. jaskier didn’t have geralt’s nose, but he could still scent his husband and it tended to calm him down plenty.

til his dying breath, geralt would deny that he rolled around on the nest blankets to make it warm and smell like him, but it was the quickest way and without music or the promise of geralt joining him, jaskier could be done in moments.

when geralt was satisfied that the clean blankets smelled a little more like home, he went to get a warm towel out of the dryer and swaddle his husband up for a trip to the nest.

he found jaskier sitting on the floor, arms wrapped around his knees.

he couldnt say anything that didnt feel too trite, too simple, too shallow, for what that image made his heart do in his chest. he simply got undressed and sat down next to him.

“bad day,” jaskier breathed. geralt, with soft hands and a softer heart, took the spray from the wall and began to wash jaskier’s hair.

jaskier began to cry again, but this time quietly. jaskier hated it when he cried, hated how much he cried, so geralt merely began humming for him while he threaded his fingers through auburn locks to remove the soap.

“i’m an artist, aren’t i?” jaskier finally asked.

“of course,” geralt said, cupping jaskier’s cheek to get him to look him in the eye. “of course you are. one of the best i’ve ever known.”

“i… geralt, i’m working at a fast food joint. i’m getting sandwiches thrown at me by customers, i’m getting barked at by my boss. i haven’t composed in almost a week.”

“you don’t have to always be writing to be an artist,” geralt said, sitting back on his haunches. “am i a witcher?”

“of course,”

“right now? when i’m sitting in the shower with you?”

“… quit it,” jaskier replied, cottoning on to geralt’s meaning and pushing his little head into geralt’s chest.

“i’m a witcher when i wake, and when i go to sleep, and every second in between.”

“that’s different,” jaskier mumbled as best he could with the hot water pouring down the back of his neck. geralt only held him, rocking him back and forth ever so slightly.

“how?”

“being a witcher’s in your blood.”

“and your need to create isn’t?” geralt asked, looking down at his husband with faux surprise. “could have fooled me,”

“…… stop,” jaskier said, and geralt heard him fighting the smile.

“who told you to be an artist, then? was it roach?” jaskier’s shoulders shook a bit and he wormed closer to geralt. “come, love,”

geralt helped him stand and finish his shower, then gently towelled him off and wrapped him up tight, scooping him off his feet.

“you’d think i were a princess,” jaskier murmured sleepily, breath dancing along the column of geralt’s damp throat.

geralt only hummed, knowing the rumble in his chest would bring jaskier even closer to sleep.

“oh,” when geralt set jaskier on the bed and set to getting him into his sleep shirt, jaskier got a look at the nest.

a precious look of wonder captured his features and tears threatened to spill over once more.

“for me?” he asked, lip wobbling dangerously.

“i can… take back the princess cake?” geralt offered, as he was nearly about to hand the treat over.

“you made me a princess cake?” jaskier asked, voice breaking.

“you weren’t singing when you came home,” geralt supplied, still holding the microwave cake. “do you…?”

“yes, please,” jaskier sobbed, making grabby hands at both geralt and the cake. “i’m just overwhelmed-crying, not sad crying,” he said, curling into geralt’s side and allowing himself to be rocked. “oh, i’m ridiculous. my boss got waspish with me because i wasn’t fast enough during lunch rush. he wasn’t even mean! just… snappy.”

“i think you’re just exhausted, love,” geralt offered.

“i slept fine last night,” jaskier said with a mouth full of cake.

“no, not tired. exhausted. you spend all day worrying about burgers and fries, then you spend all evening being upset that you didnt spend all day composing.”

“you’re right,” jaskier said with a frown.

“maybe… maybe you should quit.” geralt said, peering down at jaskier cautiously. “i could stand a few more contracts a week.”

“geralt,” jaskier gasped. “no, we— you— i shouldn’t get to laze around all day while you risk life and limb—“

“look at me,” geralt tipped jaskier’s chin up and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips. “if you quit today and sleep for a week, but never, ever come home feeling like you did today ever again… i’d rather fight a wyvern every day.”

“no,” jaskier said, squirming under the intensity of geralt’s veracity.

“every day before lunch, even,” geralt added, trying to add a little levity. “jas, if you’re this miserable, i’ll do anything to make it better for you.”

“what if i call out tomorrow? we could sleep in.”

“i’d even make lambert call out for you.”

“lambert? what would he even say?”

“what does lambert ever say?”

together, laughing, they said, “fuck you, suck my dick!” and flipped each other off.

jaskier sniffed a little once the giggles died down and offered geralt a scoop of his princess cake.

“darling, i love you very much,” geralt said patiently with his mouth full, not willing to swallow the cake. “but this tastes like sawdust.”

“how do you know what sawdust tastes like, huh?” jaskier squawked, swatting at him.

“now that we have all night, let’s make a real cake, hm?”

“alright,” jaskier said, settling the cup on the night stand and pausing to look over his shoulder at his husband. “but we shouldnt let this lovely nest go to waste,”

“oh?” geralt hummed, raising an eyebrow.

“like you said,” jaskier smirked. “we have all night,”

❦

#geraskier #fluff and comfort #i had. an abominable day at work and *i* want a princess cake 🥺

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seidenbros · 2 years

Text

You'll Make Me Brave Ch. 5 of 7

Pairing: Geraskier (Geralt x Jaskier) Warnings: loss of a loved one, murder, emotional damage, drug abuse Word Count: 2249 Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 As always dedicated to @i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky for the inspiration <3 AO3-link

_______________________

Trust is earned when actions meet words

Eskel set the laptop down on the kitchen counter so that all three of them could look at the screen. He didn't even think or ask about Jaskier, because he was already here, and Geralt had told his friend a lot already. About the way they were handling this case, the way Jaskier was involved, that he needed closure, so it was easier if Eskel told them both at the same time, instead of Geralt telling him about it later on.

“This guy hasn't had it easy. Was bullied at school, so that he had to switch to a different school, because his classmates didn't only verbally abuse him, they got him into hospital twice until the school actually did something.” Eskel shook his head, while Geralt balled his fist. Kids could be so cruel, but this was something nobody should have to endure. They all felt the same way about this, though nobody said a word about it right now. “At the new school, it was a little better, no more abuse, but he didn't live in a very... nice area.”

Eskel pulled up a file that showed Rience's run-ins with the police. Surprisingly, there were not that many, though Geralt had expected him to have been arrested a couple of times. Maybe burglary, battery, possession of a weapon...? After what he'd seen at the crime scene, he'd expected something like this, but nothing of the like.

“Her was arrested at 17 for possession of drugs, spent a night with the police because they couldn't get a hold of his mother. As for his father...” Eskel didn't finish the sentence, but trailed off.

“His father didn't care,” Jaskier finished for Eskel instead, heaving a sigh. He'd only met Rience once, talked to him briefly, but then his father had pulled them apart, because Jaskier shouldn't converse with this guy. But he'd found out who that guy was, had listened to his parents argue about it, about him, but of course silence had followed after his father had hit his mother once again.

“Yes...” Eskel looked at Jaskier for a moment, before he focused on the screen again. Meanwhile, Geralt's eyes were still on Jaskier, trying to read him, trying to find out what was going on in his head. “He wasn't listed anywhere, but Rience knew. He didn't even pay anything for his child, so they lived in a tiny apartment, and Rience stayed there even after his mother died.”

“She's dead?” Jaskier asked visibly shocked. He hadn't known about Rience's mother, hadn't wanted to know if he was honest, because this whole situation had already been too much for him when he'd found out. His father had already treated him like shit, but he'd been even worse to his other son.

“She fell down the stairs to the basement, covered in bruises that were allegedly from the fall. Her son found her dead body a couple hours later. Sound familiar?” Eskel looked at Geralt, who was now walking past his friend to get to Jaskier.

“You need to sit down,” he said to Jaskier, gently put his hand on the other one's elbow and guided him to one of the stools so that he could sit.

“I'm fine...”

“No, you're not. You're pale and I don't want you to faint...” Again. Because it had happened before, which was understandable, but Geralt needed him to stay with them, to focus on what was going on. It was obvious that Jaskier had drawn the same conclusion the other two men had. Geralt grabbed the tea he'd made for Jaskier before Eskel had appeared and put it in Jaskier's hand. “Drink!”

Jaskier looked up at the Detective and couldn't help but smile. It was so sweet of him, the way he was taking care of him, the way he looked at him, worry in his eyes, so Jaskier raised the mug and took a sip from his tea.

“Better?” Geralt asked, smiled when Jaskier nodded. Now, they could keep going. Eskel only waited for Geralt's sign to go on, and then he did.

“He accused his father, but nothing ever came of it. They were having an affair, of course there were traces of him on her clothes et cetera, and someone like him would never do that.”

Yeah... Jaskier had heard that as well, but by now, he was getting really angry that he'd never heard about that before, because that was a clear parallel to his mother's death, and nobody, not one cop had brought it up in the investigation. He knew he could trust Geralt, and he did, but every other cop...? No.

“After that, he was caught using drugs again, but since they knew what had happened with his mother and what kind of shape he was in, they set him up with a clinic where he got help for his drug problem.” Eskel clicked through a couple of photos, from when Rience was younger, his first mugshot, the photo they'd taken before he'd gotten into the clinic, and then one when he'd been released, where he'd looked a lot better. “That was about a year ago, and since then, he's been rather quiet. No run-ins with the police, no drugs as far as we know. It looked good...”

“But that certainly explains why he would seek out his father and talk to him.” Geralt looked at the last picture Eskel showed them. That man looked older than he was, which was not surprising if he'd used drugs for a couple of years or however long. Geralt couldn't say how long Rience had really used drugs and he really didn't care. All he cared about was to find that man and talk to him about what had happened. Jaskier was still not entirely sure that he'd seen someone at his father's place, but Geralt was all the more sure. Was it Rience? Maybe, but there was only one way to find out.

“We need to talk to him.” Geralt's words were directed at Eskel, who was starting to pack up. He'd told them everything he had, and the following steps didn't involve him anymore.

“Lambert and Coen are bringing him to the station for interrogation. Since I was coming here anyway, I should let you know, because they'll be waiting for you to get there to question him. It's your case after all.”

Yes... His case... He'd been working on it all the time, even with reading the diary Jaskier had given him, but he'd been watching out for Jaskier as well, for his well-being. Going back to the station now to lead an interrogation... what would he do with Jaskier?

“I'm coming with you,” Jaskier announced as if he'd just read Geralt's thoughts.

“I don't know if that's such a good idea.”

“Please... I can't stay here wondering about what is happening.”

“Maybe, I could take you to Yennefer, so you won't be alone.”

“Geralt, please... I need to see him.” Jaskier had gotten up and walked over to Geralt to take his hand in his own, give it a little squeeze. This wasn't fair on Geralt. How was he supposed to say no to this?

“Fine...” Geralt heaved a sigh. Damn these sad puppy eyes that got to him. Maybe the way Jaskier was holding his hand as well. That man did things to him that Geralt couldn't even begin to explain.

“Well... I'll leave you to it. Call me, if you need anything.” Eskel grinned at his old friend before he left the two of them alone. Geralt only looked up for a short moment to nod at him and see him walk out the door, before he put his attention back on Jaskier.

“But you'll stay out of the interrogation room until I come and get you, alright?”

Jaskier nodded, a smile slowly spreading across his lips. Despite everything that was going on, he was able to smile, and that was because of Geralt. Geralt who could have put him in custody for at least twenty-four hours, but had instead believed him and helped him figure out just what had happened.

“Thank you,” Jaskier managed to say.

“Grab something to eat, okay? I'll get dressed in the meantime, and then we can head to the station. I can't turn up there looking like this.”

“Why not? I think that look suits you. Kinda tumbled out of bed and ready to spend a lazy afternoon cuddling look, but it looks good on you.”

“Really?” Geralt couldn't help but smile. He hadn't thought too much about his look when he'd walked into the kitchen. After all, he'd seen Jaskier half-naked the day before, and this was his home, but knowing that Jaskier liked that look, somehow made him happy. He knew how to dress for work, but here at home, he wasn't really fond of wearing dress shirts all the time, and was glad when he could get out of these clothes and swap them for something more comfortable. For a moment, though, he thought about the picture Jaskier had put into his head now, cuddling in bed, preferably with Jaskier, but there was no time for this now – and it was also probably not really appropriate. This case was not solved yet.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jaskier stared through the glass at his (half)brother, who was sitting in the chair he had been sitting in not so long ago. Rience was staring straight ahead, as if he was looking right at Jaskier, though he couldn't know that he was there. Nobody had told him. Jaskier's own heart was beating faster, making it hard to breathe for him. The tension in his chest eased, though, when he felt Geralt's hand on his shoulder.

“Everything okay?” Geralt's voice was soft, sending shivers down Jaskier's spine, making his whole body tingle from the concern in his voice, from that little touch. Not the right place, not the right time, but he would take it. It made him feel good, safe, in a situation where he'd never pictured himself.

“It's a lot... but I'll manage. Thanks to you.” Jaskier put his hand on top of Geralt's and smiled. He didn't have a lot of reasons to smile at the moment, but Geralt was certainly one reason to do so.

“I'm just... doing my job,” Geralt tried to explain, because he didn't really know what else to say.

“No, you're not, and we both know that. You're doing way more than that.”

“Yeah...” There was no denying it. He didn't know if he'd act the same way if it was any other person, but Jaskier had weaved his way into Geralt's heart pretty much straight away, and there had been nothing he could have done about that. He was usually someone who kept his guard up all the time, who guarded his heart so well, but Jaskier had somehow slipped through the cracks. And now, that he was looking at Geralt like this, with so much gratitude and... love, he couldn't stop himself from what he was about to do in the next moment, what he'd nearly done already before Eskel had interrupted them.

Geralt cupped Jaskier's cheek before he connected their lips. It was just a gentle touch at first, testing the grounds, because a part of him was scared that Jaskier would pull back. It wouldn't change a thing for this case, but it would change things between them. Instead of pulling back, though, Jaskier leaned into him, deepened the kiss, ran his hands over Geralt's broad chest, but then he grabbed hold of his shoulders to anchor himself. Hearts beating rapidly in their chests, they savoured this moment, until they heard a noise outside and practically jumped apart. Nobody was coming into the room, nobody was even at the door, but they both knew that this was not appropriate as long as Jaskier was still some kind of suspect. Not in Geralt's books, but there were probably people out there who thought so, and they didn't want Geralt to be taken off the case.

“I should...” Geralt motioned towards the interrogation room, a slight blush on his cheeks. Jaskier pretty much looked the same.

“Yeah... you should.” Jaskier nodded, touching his fingertips to his lips, smiling to himself.#

“Are we good?” Though Jaskier's movements, his reaction had eased the tension in his shoulders a little bit, he still had to make sure.

“Yes... more than good.”

That was everything, Geralt needed to hear, before he could leave this room to get to the other side, where Rience was waiting to be interrogated.

When the door opened, Rience looked up, straight at Geralt. His face gave nothing away, not a little but. Geralt had been told that Rience had opened the door of his apartment and had come here with Lambert and Coen without making a racket. He'd behaved perfectly, like he wasn't hiding anything – or like they wouldn't be able to pin this on him.

“Hello... I'm Detective Geralt of Rivia. Do you know why you are here?” Geralt walked toward the table and sat down in the chair opposite Rience.

“Because I killed my father.”

Now, that was definitely not what Geralt had expected him to say.

#staffi writes #the witcher imagine #the witcher fanfic #geraskier #geraskier fic #geraskier imagine #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt x jaskier #the witcher au #modern au #i-seeaspaceshipinthe-sky #you'll make me brave #alternate universe #modern setting

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magic-multicolored-miracle · 9 months

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The Witcher S3 Ep4: The Invitation AKA I Was Definitely Not Prepared

There were moments where I had to fully pause the show and collect myself. Because I knew I only have 2 episodes left and there were a lot of things that hadn't happened yet. But I still wasn't expecting them to happen all at once or send me on that wild emotion rollercoaster

Is Emperor CreepyDad just like this with everyone? Just stolling into Cahir's room while he sleeps and eating his food. Boundaries dude.

Aww, Cahir actually cared about Fringilla? That's sweet. And misguided cus she didn't give two fucks about him

Also, Cahir's been back in the good graces for at least a day. Can't we get him some time to clean up? Greasy hair and a dust-stained shirt aren't exactly courtier attire...

Aww, poor dear is having a crisis of faith. You shut the fuck up with your shitty advice CreepyDad. He needs guidance and help

Excuse you Artorius. Yennefer is a gift and you should be grateful. What, pray tell, have you fucking done lately to fix anything, besides sit around moaning about it all with Stregobitch?

"No more secrets" is a tough, possibly impossible, ask.

Also I hate that it's still The Brotherhood when at least half of them are women. And this weird vote by banging, which is new?

You would know all about that, wouldn't you Geralt?

Those are some dramatic-ass invites. I respect it

She's right Yen. You are good at this stuff

Triss is right to mistrust, but I'm worried for her investigating

Triss and Istredd? Not a pair I would have thought (and I suppose technically it's pair the spares) but it actually makes a load of sense, romantically or otherwise. I'm here for it

That's an interesting theory. A wrong one most likely, but interesting. And might put you in the right direction at least

Ooh here we go. This is The Episode. I'm not sure I'm ready, but I'm so ready

Don't forget, Ciri's granddad was from Skellige. She knows the sea (I almost did)

Jaskier's little perched pose and expression. He is loving this, and subtly egging the pocket-sized princess on

Hold on, I gotta put everything down and prepare myself. The moment I've dreaded and been waiting for...

He comes with backup singers?! Why didn't we collectively think of that? Of course he does!

His troupe are all much prettier than him

Are we still doing this between the two of you, Yen? It's just very strange and bordering on petty in a way you aren't usually

Oh right. I forgot the Queen of Redania was assassinated by "Nilfgaard"

Of course you and Sabrina knock boots and get along. You're both egotistical bitches who I want to like (but at least in her case I just can't. You still have your chance)

Vengeance, not scorn. Justice and Vengeance are two sides of the same coin.

Aww. Proud Dad

As much as I know this is important, I really want to know what any of Vizimir's half-comments in the background mean/the context where they make any sense

Hah! Outplayed the spies, nicely done Yen

These dramatic fucks. I think the whole band is "Valdo Marx" like Bon Jovi. That's what I'm going to run with.

Maybe listen to the professionals next time, Boris

Looks like all that obstacle-coursing with Lambert and Coén paid off

What and who the fuck was that? Because I am going to personally fight them

They got what they wanted from her though, in a way. Ciri's location is "with Geralt"

"Be careful who you trust" she says in front of the snakiest witch they know 🙄 I thought you were supposed be smart, Triss

Oh Ciri, you and your moral compass

Fringilla looks good with this vibe and crowd. Happy and free works for her

How is the bartender not noticing this?

Why are boats the interesting part?

Aww bonding time! I love Jaskier and his goddaughter/niece mocking her parents. 😂

And that they've finally reunited, but I do kinda want to know what was actually said to lead to that "sag into a hug" moment

Oh Jaskier, surely someone warned you about playing games of luck or strategy against Cirilla of Cintra, an absolute shark in the streets of her youth

Aww. Jaskier 🥺 that was really sweet. And probably exactly what she needed to hear. And then topped with a lullaby? I can't

Radovid, what are you doing?

The fact that Jaskier knows he's not a fighter, but is fully ready to throw himself into danger to keep it from Ciri, even for an extra moment. And risk his prized possession as a weapon. 🥺💖

Oh. Oh! I didn't realize this would be in the same episode! Oh god! I'm not prepared for Emotions!

"The only good part of this mess was meeting you." Bitch you can't just say something so gut-punching like that.

🥺😭😍🥺 the gifs were nowhere near enough for this. I need it seared into my brain. The emotion in their voices, and in their eyes, the desperation and terror in their breaths. It's all...perfectly heartwrenching.

I believe now, more than ever, that this is going to hurt Jaskier in some way, and that is going to break me. I would almost rather the strike against the show for "Bury Your Gays" and killing the Princeling than have him betray Jaskier

Careful Dara, speaking up apparently is a good way to get permenantly silenced around here

She's not wrong Cahir...you have proven fairly unreliable

What's the mission? Why won't you tell us?

Reinforcements? Are Philippa and Dijkstra planning to attack the Conclave? And if it's taking their messenger 2 days to get there, how are they getting back by first dawn? Not that they're getting there at all now, but I want the deets of what the plan was so I can decide how stupid it might have been

I support Geralt's plan. We just stab the shit out of Stregobitch until he stops smirking, or wasting oxygen

What the hell is Philippa wearing? And Triss's hair...

Ooh I love these parallel pairs plotting. But it makes me think Stregobor also has a second. It might just be Artorius but...I have my doubts

What is Tissaia unsure of? Not the conclave she's been so passionately backing, right? But what else is there?

Yen looks gorgeous, and I like that it's drawing from Anya's heritage with her hair but I don't know if I actually like her outfit. It feels out of sync somehow

Holy cliffhanger Batman

#Shye watches The Witcher #semi-liveblogging #The Witcher season 3 #The Witcher season 3 spoilers #Netflix The Witcher #ugh. the episode ends on a proper cliffhanger #and I have work tomorrow so I am already up past bedtime #I don't wanna wait :(

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railroad-migraine · 2 years

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Gifting Them Flowers

-> The Witcher (Netflix) x GN!Reader Headcanons

Note: Belated Happy Valentine's Day, my loves 💕 Something small I whipped up for you to enjoy

~ Poet

❤️

Geralt

Hesitantly takes the bunch of wildflowers from you, holding them gently in his hands in fear of crushing them.

Looks at you, a pinch between his brows from where he's furrowed them. He asks you why are you giving him something, and stiffens when you say "Just because~" He's not used to being gifted something without the other person having an ulterior motive, and even then the object given to him is something useful, tying him to an errand or quest.

It's... nice, the flowers so delicate and soft and his in his grasp. He looks pensive, and you reach out and ask him if there's something wrong, but he shakes his head and the corners of his lips quirking up as he regards you. "You didn't have to, but you did it anyway, and I'm very grateful that you thought of me." He seals his sincerity with a kiss.

❤️

Jaskier

His mouth parts in a soft 'o' shape and lifts the small bouquet closer to his nose to breathe in the subtle floral scent. His eyes close for just a moment before opening, brighter than ever, full of unfiltered joy.

Warmth flushes across his face and he grins giddily, thanking you with a flourish of pretty words and kisses to your cheek. You squirm in his grasp but the eager affections of the bard cause laughter to spill from your mouth, and this only encourages him further.

Happily plucks one of the flowers from the bunch and tucks it behind your ear. "If a flower grew for every moment you cross my mind, I'd have fields upon fields of flora, and rule as king of that land with you by my side."

❤️

Yennefer

The bunch of flowers you held out to her were far too nicely wrapped in paper to be simple spell components, so she prepares polite "thank you"s and "you shouldn't have"s in her head, not quite sure how to respond.

But when her fingers brush against yours, electricity flutters across her skin, and it awakens something within her, something that she had pushed aside for far too long. She huffs a laugh as a smile dances across her lips, and for the first time in what seems like forever, all is well.

She feels no dull ache within her, no yearning for a legacy or something greater. Instead, fondness floods Yen's senses, and she presses a kiss to your cheek in thanks, resting her forehead to your temple. "You silly, sweet, delightful thing, you."

❤️

Cahir

He's quiet. He doesn't scowl, and no snarky quips are made. His jaw, often clenched from gritted teeth or frustration, finally relaxes. His eyes soften and he stares at the small bunch of daffodils gripped in his hands.

He's about to say he has nothing to give in return, but the look you give him halts him from forming words. You expect nothing from him, only a reaction. He swallows, nods, and thanks you earnestly, thumbing a velvet soft, golden petal and allowing the swell of emotion to spread through his chest. Suddenly, all of his duties are stripped back, and it's only you and Cahir in this moment.

Takes your hand and presses his lips to your knuckles in thanks, and promises to return your kindness later. Be it dinner or dancing, jewellery or gemstones, as long as you know how touched he was by the sentiment he's happy. "Whatever it is you desire, say the word and it is yours, darling."

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on-a-lucky-tide · 3 years

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I’m having sad sub!Geralt thoughts today. This is part story, part musings. This could become something longer one day, but brain power is limited.

Warnings: smut, kink negotiation, use of safe word, good scene, bad scene, subspace, impact play, Geralt’s canonical issues with bodily autonomy/consent. With thanks to @frenchkey for tolerating my rambles this morning (and helping me form some coherence).

Geralt hasn’t experienced subspace for a long time.

Jaskier is talkative. It’s a constant buzz of sound—‘my dear’, ‘sweet Geralt’, ‘very lovely’—and he expects noise in return. Feedback. Geralt is so focused on making the right sounds and facial expressions that he gets very little out of the scene beyond an orgasm at the end. He’s left feeling unfulfilled and a little hollow.

Yennefer is closer to what he needs, but she’s harsher and sometimes lacks patience with him; her understanding of his boundaries is negligible. She enters his mind without asking to monitor him and he spends the entire time thinking the thoughts she wants to see. She’s adventurous and a lot of what they try tests Geralt’s boundaries in ways he doesn’t like. Just a little more. Just a little longer. She wants everything.

It’s frustrating, because he loves them both. With all his heart. But they’re not the right fit for that part of him. They’re not what he needs. He convinces himself it doesn’t matter. He’s lucky to have them at all. They could do so much better. He can go without that kind of gratification as long as they’re happy.

Somehow, he starts talking about it with Eskel one night. It’s winter. They’re drunk. It doesn’t take much these days—they must be getting old. Eskel listens, his head tilted to the side, and at the end he just hums. “I know it’s been a long time, Wolf,” he says, “but how about me?”

Geralt is pretty sure he misheard, but Eskel repeats it. He has experience. Many years of experience. He has two puppies, a sub and a pony on the leash at the moment. Geralt is surprised and speechless. They decide to discuss it more in the morning and end up asleep on the bearskin in front of the fire. Vesemir dumps a few blankets on top of them and leaves them to their hangovers.

Eskel sits Geralt down that afternoon with a piece of paper. At the top, he has written two words ‘Wants’ and ‘Needs’. They’ve known each other for so long that Geralt’s surprised they can’t just… talk about it.

“You have issues with consent and your own desires,” Eskel explains. “I need you to begin workin’ through that if we’re doin’ this.”

Geralt agrees to give it a go. He can think of some things, surely. Eskel leaves him to it for the day. If he thinks of something, all he has to do is note it down in one of the columns. By the time the sun sinks below the mountains, he has… one thing. I want to come.

Eskel looks at the list with narrowed eyes. This is clearly worse than he thought. Geralt’s shoulders sag in disappointment, but Eskel sits down next to him and picks up the quill. “Do you need to feel safe?”

Geralt blinks. Eskel waits. The silence stretches. After a while, Geralt nods.

“Words, please.”

“Yeah, I—yeah.”

Eskel writes it down in the ‘need’ column. “We’ll dig down into what that means in a bit,” he says, “do you need correction and-or discipline?”

Geralt thinks about it. He doesn’t need it. But the few times Yennefer disciplined him for infractions were nice—he was punished justly and they moved on. It brought him catharsis and he didn’t have to worry about it. “I want it,” he replies. Eskel diligently adds it to the column.

They go through a long list. Each time, Eskel waits patiently for Geralt to reach a decision and then adds it to the appropriate column. Once it’s complete, he goes back to the top and focuses on what each one means for Geralt. What does it mean to feel safe? It’s not a question that Geralt has ever been asked, but as he thinks about it, he realises that he needs to trust Eskel not to mock him, to keep this private, that the mere act of discussing is making him feel more secure in… whatever this will become.

Once they’ve done that, Eskel goes back to the top and explains his own. He needs Geralt to tell him if something hurts when they haven’t discussed it; he needs Geralt to talk to him after and allow himself to be cared for; he needs to be able to touch Geralt, skin-to-skin. He wants to hear Geralt enjoy it, but understands that everyone’s pleasure sounds different; he wants an opportunity to correct Geralt and to give him an opportunity to be of service.

Geralt realises that he never really knew what Yennefer or Jaskier’s wants and needs were; he had always assumed or learned as he went.

Eskel gives Geralt another piece of paper the following morning. It has four new words on it. ‘Hard limits’ and ‘soft limits’. Eskel has to explain what they mean and only gives Geralt a few hours to contemplate this time; he knows there won’t be anything in either column without his assistance. They sit in the weak winter sun and Eskel goes down a list of kinks. Everything from impact play to oviposition; breath play to orgasm denial.

Geralt puts impact play into soft limits; he doesn’t want blood in his bedroom. He puts watersports into hard limits along with humiliation and name-calling. He’s not sure about cbt, so they put in soft limits as something they could experiment with carefully. As he did the day before, Eskel adds his own.

Eskel gives Geralt a few days to look down the lists and make sure nothing’s missing. They agree on safe words—Eskel uses “thunderbolt”, because it’s his least favourite potion, and Geralt decides on “Roach”… because he associates her with safety, and he always calls for her when he’s hurting or in danger. Eskel smiles at that and is kind enough not to make any equine jokes.

Geralt isn’t surprised to see that they match up in a lot of things, but Eskel is a damn sight fucking kinkier than Geralt ever gave him credit for. He has to ask what klismaphilia is and goes rather red at the explanation. Eskel won’t use knives and he doesn’t like choking. Both linked with extreme violence. Geralt understands, but can’t help but be a little disappointed at the latter.

A few more days pass, and they negotiate a scene. It combines some light bondage and spanking. Eskel shows Geralt a paddle he has stashed away in one of his bags; it’s sturdy, wrapped in black leather. Geralt goes hard at the thought of it and agrees without reserve. “Do you want sex?” asks Eskel as they sit at the dinner table. Geralt nearly snorts wine out his nose.

“Isn’t that a given?”

“No.”

Geralt isn’t sure what to say, except, “what do you get out of it if we don’t?”

Eskel pulls out their wants and needs list, pointing to each item in the ‘needs’ column. He’s patient. Jaskier would’ve grown bored by now and Yennefer would roll her eyes in exasperation at how slow he was. Geralt isn’t sure what to say—if he says yes, then will Eskel force himself to do what he doesn’t want to? And if he says no, will Eskel get bored? He swallows. “What do you want?”

Eskel sighs. He clearly didn’t want to lead the conversation, but makes the judgement call to do so now. “I would like to,” he says, searching Geralt’s face. “Penetrative. A well marked arse turns me on.”

Geralt goes redder than Eskel’s gambeson. Yeah, that sounds pretty fucking good, actually. They agree to sex and Geralt spends the late afternoon in the springs getting clean.

The scene goes well. Geralt enjoys the impact of the paddle against his arse, and even more so when Eskel bends him low and the impact catches the back of his balls. He makes sound—willingly, without forcing himself. He pulls against the leather straps around his wrists and shoves his face into the bed. Eskel marks him up perfectly. The only sounds he makes are quiet puffs of effort, and once or twice he checks in—asks for a colour. It’s an odd system, but Geralt understands it. Red, amber, green. It’s green right up until Eskel touches his burning skin and calls an end to it.

Geralt is shaking. He’s drawn out and highly strung, his cock is a hot rod of iron beneath his belly. “Sir, please,” he blurts out before he can stop it. Eskel pauses and for a moment Geralt fears he’s done something wrong.

“Just my name for now, Geralt,” Eskel growls. “No more ‘sir’. Confirm you understand by saying yes or no.”

Geralt presses his lips together. “Yes.” A soothing hand strokes over his lower back and the tension eases instantly. Not ruined. Forgiven.

Geralt has never enjoyed the push of a cock so much in his life. He knows receiving isn’t the inherently submissive part and has had many partners in the past who have bossed him around just fine with his cock in their arse, but the act of being filled by Eskel after the impact of the paddle is transcendent. He spreads his legs, enjoys the dual burn of taking just-a-little-too-much-prick and the press of Eskel’s fingers into his bruised skin.

Eskel fucks him hard, but he doesn’t rely on his size to do the work for him. Geralt can feel the talent in the ripple of Eskel’s body; the way he targets Geralt’s prostate and then eases off to prolong the peak. By the time Geralt comes, he’s wrecked. He forgets himself and tries to leave once the restraints are removed—Yennefer prefers the bed to herself after a scene, and Jaskier doesn’t like fluids on the sheets.

“Geralt,” Eskel says firmly and Geralt freezes in place. “Here. Now.”

Geralt slinks back. He feels like he’s on a cloud; his limbs are heavy, his eyes unfocused. Eskel’s big arms wrap around him and pull him onto the bed. “Stay,” his deep voice commands. The next thing Geralt feels is the brush of a warm cloth around his intimate areas and the touch of cool salve on his ass. Eskel inspects his wrists, his palms, and then curls around him like a giant bear settling for hibernation.

A few hours pass and Geralt stares into the middle distance. His mind is calm, his body so heavy, and he allows the world to wash over him. He knows this feeling. It’s the beginning of subspace. He ruined it by getting up, but it was there, well within reach.

“You tested one of my boundaries.” Eskel starts the conversation when Geralt’s eyes are focused and he’s had a sip of water.

“What?”

“I look after you when we’re finished,” Eskel says, “that’s one of my needs. A non-negotiable one.”

“I’m sorry.” Geralt tries to curl away, but Eskel won’t allow him.

“You need trainin’. I’ve got the patience and the inclination. Want to continue? And if so, anything you didn’t like?”

Geralt can’t quite believe it. He did something wrong. Broke a rule. But Eskel’s still here, still willing to invest the time and the effort. Geralt nearly bites his proverbial hand off.

It takes time. Eskel teaches Geralt about boundaries. When Geralt grabs Eskel’s hand and presses it to his throat during one scene, Eskel calls it off instantly. Geralt panics while Eskel takes a moment to centre himself again, before sitting on the edge of the bed to talk about it. Eskel doesn’t leave him, not even for breaking a rule. They negotiate an appropriate punishment—Geralt realises he really does like c-b-t, even if the tears stream down his face by the end.

They try sensory deprivation. Complete removal of all senses. It goes wrong. Geralt feels muffled. Detached from the world. Like he could scream until his lungs burned but no one would hear him suffering. He hates it. Hates feeling like nothing. Completely untethered from existence; meaningless and transparent.

He tries to push through because the occasional brush of Eskel’s fingers remind him he’s still alive. This is what Eskel wants. Geralt needs to be good. His comfort doesn’t matter in the long run. Eskel will continue, he’ll ask for a little longer. There’s no point. Geralt’s here to serve, he’s here to be of use—but soon that’s not enough.

He cries out for Eskel, and then for Roach. He’s in Eskel’s arms within moments, his eyes uncovered, his ears and nose unplugged. He buries his nose against Eskel’s neck and breathes him in until his chest aches. Safe. Eskel respected his boundaries. He didn’t make Geralt endure. He didn’t continue through Geralt’s discomfort. The tears fall freely and Geralt tries to turn his face away. Eskel doesn’t let him. He kisses them away, strokes his hair, holds his hand. They stay together until Geralt’s grounded again.

They talk. Eskel coaxes Geralt to explain what went wrong and when. He doesn’t scold Geralt for pushing himself, because he needs honesty in the future. There’s no false praise—no ‘darlings’ or ‘sweethearts’—just the comforting weight of Eskel’s hand and the deep throb of his heartbeat. That’s all that Geralt wants. It’s all he needs.

Geralt finally gets it. It washes over him in a wave of dizziness. He’s safe with Eskel; he doesn’t need to perform. He doesn’t need to be anything but himself. This man knows him better than any other; he could have conducted a scene without their lengthy preamble but his knowledge of Geralt was the very reason that he didn’t. Geralt needs to feel listened to; he needs a feeling of agency over his own pleasure and to be able to trust his partner to fulfill those needs. He needs to be able give consent and take it back; he needs to understand the boundaries and be sure that they will hold. He needs to feel safe.

In their next scene, Geralt finds subspace. “I knew you could do it,” Eskel whispers gently, “I’m proud of you.”

Geralt basks. He’s never felt more fulfilled.

#rawrkinwrites #kind of #Geralt #Eskel #Eskel/Geralt #Eskel x Geralt #D/s relationship #negotiation

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darkverrmin · 3 years

Text

"Okay, that's all! See you in a few months, hope you have a nice winter with your family!"

"Hmm."

Before Geralt could react, Jaskier wrapped his arms around his neck in a tight hug and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Geralt just stood there, blinking.

"Bye!" Jaskier called over his shoulder, as he took off in the opposite direction from where Geralt was heading.

Geralt remained standing in the same place for another moment, before shaking his head and turning away.

II.

"Jaskier".

"Hugnhnnn".

"Jaskier. Sit up. You need to drink this".

Jaskier groaned loudly, as he sat up slowly on his bedroll, holding his head in one hand. Geralt would have denied it, but he was worried. Jaskier was burning up, and none of the potions Geralt had made him drink so far helped. The Witcher hoped that this nasty-looking medicine he bought from a mage at the market (which also cost him almost all of his coin, not that it mattered now) will do the trick.

Jaskier downed the medicine, grimaced, and plopped back down onto the bedroll, burying his face in one of Geralt’s shirts, which he used as a pillow.

Geralt sighed quietly and moved to stand up from where he was kneeling beside Jaskier, when Jaskier weakly grabbed him by the arm.

"Thank you for taking care of me." Jaskier mumbled into the bedroll, tilting his head slightly to meet Geralt’s eyes.

"Shut up." Geralt replied, entirely fond. Jaskier giggled, bringing Geralt’s hand to his lips, and leaving a kiss there. A moment later, he was snoring softly.

Geralt didn’t leave his side the entire night. The back of his left hand, where Jaskier had kissed him, stung pleasantly. The Witcher breathed out in relief for the first time at dawn, when Jaskier's fever finally broke.

III.

"You're not coming with us".

"Yes, I am".

"Jaskier".

"Geralt".

"Leave it, Geralt." Lambert called from the other side of camp. "The boy's just not afraid of you anymore".

Jaskier showed him the middle finger, as he continued to glare at Geralt. "And don't you dare growl at me, Witcher".

"You're staying here and that's final!"

"Don’t yell at me!"

"I think you've forgotten where you are, bard. You're in a camp full of Witchers, who can kill you using only one hand, or the least tie you to a tree until we're back-"

"Eskel and Lambert love me and they'll never let you do that. And you, my friend, although big and seemingly threatening, are the sweetest and softest man I know".

Jaskier emphasized his words by taking a step closer to Geralt, wiping some dirt off his nose with his sleeve and placing a kiss there.

Geralt could only stare at him dumbfounded, ignoring his brothers, who started laughing uncontrollably.

IV.

"Geralt. Geralt- Oh, Gods. Geralt. Geralt, please, stay with me. Yen will be here soon. Please, don't leave me".

Geralt was barely aware of his surroundings. The pain in his side turned from sharp to dull. There wasn't the cold, hard ground under his head anymore. He was lying on something soft. Jaskier's lap, he realized.

Something wet was running down his temple, either his blood, sweat, or Jaskier’s tears.

Warm, shaky lips pressed themselves against his forehead. "Please, Geralt. Stay with me".

And he did.

"What's this?" Jaskier blinked at the book Geralt dropped in his lap. Geralt muttered something in reply.

"Come again?"

"A present." Geralt repeated, a little louder.

"Oh. For what occasion?".

"It was your birthday a couple of days ago".

Jaskier gave him a warm smile. "Aw, Geralt! You remembered!".

Geralt rolled his eyes. "Just shut up and tell me if you like it".

Jaskier looked down at the book in his hands and gasped quietly. "Oh. Oh, wow. It's-"

"I saw you examining it in the market the other day." Geralt mumbled, rubbing his neck awkwardly. "Thought you'd like it".

"I do! Thank you so much, dear!" Jaskier got up, pulling Geralt into a hug.

"Alright." Geralt muttered, patting Jaskier’s back. "Let go of me".

"Pff." Jaskier snorted, pulling away and placing a tender kiss to Geralt's clothed shoulder. "As if you don't like it. I'm onto you, Witcher. You're a sweet, soft man".

"Okay, this is it. See you in the spring. I'll miss you!".

Jaskier pulled Geralt into a hug, and this time Geralt hugged back. He'd been nervous about this moment for weeks. Other from the fact that he didn't want Jaskier to leave, he didn't want the younger man to leave feeling unwanted.

So when Geralt turned his head to kiss Jaskier on the cheek, he was so distracted, that he completely froze when Jaskier's nose bumped into his.

They stood there in silence, Jaskier's hands on Geralt’s shoulders, Geralt’s arms around Jaskier’s waist. Their noses touching, warm breaths mingling together.

Geralt gulped, panicking, and was about to pull away, when Jaskier placed a gloved hand on his cheek, stilling him. "Please," the younger man whispered, closing his eyes and leaning in.

Jaskier's lips were the softest and the sweetest, and once Geralt started kissing them, it was impossible to stop.

***

"Guess it's too late to be going anywhere today." Jaskier breathed out, a moment after Geralt rolled off of him.

"Hmm." Geralt replied, tossing another log into the fire, before crawling back under the blanket beside Jaskier. "C'mere." The Witcher muttered, pulling Jaskier against his chest.

"You're sweaty".

"You didn’t seem to be complaining about it a moment earlier".

Jaskier laughed, resting his cheek against Geralt’s chest. "You're right, I didn’t. That was a rather pleasant experience".

"Thanks".

"Okay. The best. Magnificent. Fantas-".

Geralt laughed quietly and Jaskier smiled against his chest. The younger man hummed happily as Geralt started rubbing his back in soothing circles.

"Come to Kaer Morhen with me." Geralt muttered into Jaskier’s hair. "If you can. Or want to".

"Okay".

Geralt blinked. "Okay?"

Jaskier shifted in his place, so he could meet Geralt’s eyes. "Okay. They don't really need me at Oxenfurt this year, I'll just write them a letter. And I'd love to see Kaer Morhen again".

"It will be freezing. The winters at Kaer Morhen are harsh".

"So someone has to be there to warm you up, then". Jaskier smiled, pressing a kiss to the corner of Geralt’s mouth. "And I'll just love to cover your whole body with kisses. Again. And again. And again-".

Geralt cut him off by pulling Jaskier into a deep kiss. The Witcher smiled into the kiss, knowing they will have a whole winter of this. And hopefully, a lot more.

#the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #witcher #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #witcher netflix #geralt the witcher #julian alfred pankratz #geralt

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Text

I’ll Try

hi i know i said i was gonna work through my prompts but ive been having a mini writers block and tried to get rid of it with this which ended up not working and this took three days when something like it would have taken three hours this time last year 🤣 im fine everythings fine

pairing: geraskier

warnings: post getting together touch starvation, geralt getting overwhelmed and feeling guilty about it, two idiots being idiots, geralt refuses to speak up for his needs im not projecting i swear, thats it tho, they dont even fight its just a nice little convo, un beta’d

_________________

Two weeks. It had taken two weeks for Geralt to muster up the courage to hold Jaskier’s hand as they walked. They’d had a stilted and painfully awkward conversation about feelings and decisions and commitments that ended rather well, but Geralt just couldn’t do it. He’d kept his distance from people for so long that the thought of holding someone else and being welcome whenever he wantedto do so sent his heart racing. The first week he couldn’t bring himself to think about being held in return without a pang of anticipation and fear shooting through his chest.

But he’d done it. And he loved holding Jaskier’s hand. He loved being able to walk up behind his bard and wrap his arms around Jaskier’s waist, resting his chin on his shoulder, and lean on him. He loved the light touched to wrists and how Jaskier would brush his hair out of his eyes before kissing his brow. He really really loved it.

Just… it could be overwhelming. Jaskier was extremely tactile and while it was nice to be able to communicate without needing words, Geralt found it could become too much rather quickly. He also felt extremely guilty about it. Jaskier had even told him he was always made feel like he was ‘too much’ for his partners (‘usually too adulterous’ Geralt had teased) and the last thing the witcher wanted to do was tell him as much.

But he damn near wanted to crawl out of his skin one afternoon as he was grinding herbs for his potions. Jaskier had one leg over him as they sat on the ground and the bard was bent almost in half to lay his cheek on Geralt’s shoulder. That Geralt could muscle through, but it was the little touches and shifting that came from Jaskier playing with the cuffs of his shirt that really threw him.

After an hour of barely being able to focus, Geralt finally scrambled to stand and start pacing the edge of the meadow where they’d made camp.

“Geralt?” Jaskier called to him surprisingly cautiously, still sitting where they’d been entangled, but now leaning back on his hands as if he’d been hit in the chest with a rabbit carcass.

“Hm”

“What’s going on?”

Geralt just shrugged as he continued his pacing, “Need to walk. Cramp.”

It seemed Jaskier wasn’t buying his half-assed excuse as he planted himself directly in Geralt’s path and grabbed him just above the elbows, “You’ve been acting weird all day.”

“Tired,” Geralt growled, feeling ready to snap at any moment.

Jaskier’s lips disappeared into a thin line and his eyebrows climbed his forehead, “Yeah, and I’m a skilled swordsman. What is wrong?”

Try as he might, Geralt couldn’t unclench his jaw as he spoke, keeping the volume low in the hopes it wouldn’t frighten Jaskier, “Let me go.”

Hurt flashed across Jaskier’s face as he took a step back and folded his arms over his chest. There was no anger in his posture though, geralt could have handled that easily- gladly even, but it broke his heart to see the way his bard held himself. Quite literally holding himself around the ribs with his shoulders slightly hunched, Jaskier just stared at Geralt, waiting with a look akin to fear on his face.

Taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Geralt tried to sift through his words despite the urge to simply stomp off into the woods, “Overwhelmed.”

It wasn’t much but it was the best Geralt could force out. And by some miracle, it seemed Jaskierwas relieved by the answer. He let his arms hang by his sides and stood a little taller, tilting his head to the side as he spoke, “Is there some noise…? Smell I cant smell?”

Geralt shook his head and tapped his wrist, indicating the cuff Jaskier was fiddling with before.

“Oh… you- dont like the touching…” Jaskier looked on the edge of tears. Anyone else may have thought he was just slightly upset, but Geralt knew what to look for. Jaskier’s lips were back in their firm line, but this one was narrower, and all expression left his eyes.

“No! No, Jask I uhm, really like that. A lot… I’m not used to it though…” As Geralt scrambled to get his words out he stepped forward, reaching to hook his pinky around Jaskier’s.

“Well of course not. It’s been less than a month.” Jaskier still looked cautious, though his eyes softened ever so slightly.

“It’s been... decades since someone touched me so often and so... innocently,” Geralt mumbled, hoping Jaskier could make sense of the information.

“Oh Geralt… sweetheart I didn’t realize…” Geralt just tilted his head at Jaskier as he continued, “Thats like throwing a man baking in the desert straight into an ocean. Of course you’re overwhelmed! I- I didn’t even think…”

“I didn’t want you to think I thought you were too much…” Geralt offered, giving a little shrug and feeling a bit like a child.

Jaskier gave him a sweet smile and swung their hands side to side just a bit, “Thank you, darling. You can tell me when you reach your limit next time. I wont get upset.”

Geralt swallowed hard and cleared his throat muttering a quick “I’ll try.” before giving Jaskier a peck on the cheek and going back to crushing his herbs. Jaskier picked up his lute and plucked away at the strings and every time Geralt looked up at him he was smiling with a mix of affection and wonder. They’d be fine, Geralt decided, he’d just have to use his words.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geraskier getting together #geraskier established relationship #touch starved geralt #overwhelmed geralt #the witcher #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt fic #geralt of rivia fic #jaskier #jaskier fic #julian alfed pankratz #jaskier fanfic #lol this might have taken so long bc i am geralt oops

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mothmanismyuncle · 1 year

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I posted 20,403 times in 2022

121 posts created (1%)

20,282 posts reblogged (99%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@warmthseeker

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I tagged 1,424 of my posts in 2022

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Longest Tag: 137 characters

#like everybody gotta quit gatekeeping. i. a gay man. would rather have 10000 ‘straight women’ ‘’fetishise’’ me than 1 person feel unloved

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

i hope im never behind the wheel if i see this shit in the wild bc i blacked out ugly laughing

24 notes - Posted September 7, 2022