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flowercrown-bard · 2 years

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Hoping multiple questions are acceptable - can you do 15, 17, and 29? 💕💕

hi! multiple questions are lovely <3

15. If you could choose one of your fics to be filmed, which would you choose?

hmm i don't think that most of my fics would work as films bc I'm all about inner monologue and thoughts that wouldn't translate well into film. but i think i would go with my old!Jaskier fic Birds Still Sing When They Fall From The Sky. Plot-wise, there's not much going on so it wouldn't be the most interesting film, but the soundtrack could make it an Experience TM. just. The film would begin with Jaskier playing a song for a very small audience and his fingers fumble on the strings and it's a bit dissonant. The audience scatters and the camera zooms in on Geralt, whose looking at Jaskier with the most love-lorn smile and Jaskier says that the only thing that matters is that Geralt still loves their song.

Then, as they retire together, a whimsical version of the song plays. throughout the film, it gets clear that their theme is made up of a mixture of Geralt's theme and Jaskier's theme (like in How to train your dragon, where the Flight-music is a mixture of Hiccup and Toothless' theme)

every once in a while, we cut to Jaskier teaching Geralt how to play the lute. He never gets it right, but they are both still smiling and laughing together and try again.

as Jaskier slowly loses his memory, Geralt's theme gets quieter and quieter until eventually there's only a slow and twisted version of Jaskier's theme left.

For the scenes of chapter 19, the original theme of them both would return and they would dance to it and Jaskier would hum it quietly. And then, the music cuts out completely, when the MCD happens. After that, there's no music for a while, bc Jaskier is the one who brought music to Geralt's life. but as Geralt slowly relearns to enjoy life and see beauty in the world, music returns. Just a tentative hint of their theme, that swelled and gets richer with each repetition.

The film ends in Dol Blathana, with Geralt playing the song on the lute, just as badly as Jaskier did in the beginning, because he's not great at playing the lute. He puts the lute on the ground amidst the flowers where he and Jaskier had had their first adventure. As Geralt rides of into the sunrise, their theme plays one last time. There's no orchestra, just a single lute, but this time, it's playing it perfectly. It's soft, it's quiet, it's hopeful. Fade to black.

(I'm kind of regretting that I don't know how to do animations. I would love to make an animatic of that now)

(@thingr2 I'm just gonna tag you bc i feel like you might like the imagery of this? not sure if you're still interested in Geraskier)

17. Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

always from start to finish. it's impossible for me to jump around bc i have no control over the characters and if i wrote scene 3 first, then I'd have to keep the characaters and myself on a tight leash when writing scene 1 and 2 for it to still make sense and that's just too much stress for me

29. If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

I already answered this here, but if I had to pick another one, I'd say forget me (not) by @samstree. i remember reading this fic and my imagination immediately jumping in ten different directions, thinking about how it could continue. i wouldn't write it tho bc the fic is perfect the way it is and a sequel would probably ruin the gut punch of the ambiguity.

oh! or i would write a fluffy sequel to Just a Little Pretense (also by @samstree) about Jaskier going "I know I promised you to never make you make me cry again, but..." and then Jaskier proposes and Geralt says yes and Jaskier cries happy tears

ask game

#thank you for the ask!#it's been so long since i really thought about that fic #now i lowkey want to write some old jaskier again #ask game

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

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Okay but imagine- geralt (consensually) using axii on jaskier (maybe to calm him down? Take away the pain? Idk it’s up to you)

i would first like to apologize for how long this sat in my inbox. ye ole non-smutty fics and i had a bit of a rough patch there for a bit but i think we're past it now? anyway, have some of this:

Warnings: exhaustion descriptions, tfw you walk/stand too long and everything hurts, a tiny bit of fluff, axii isn't necessarily discussed but its used to help

_______________

Traveling with Geralt was the highlight of Jaskier’s life, but adjusting to the road every spring always knocked him on his ass. No matter how much walking and stair climbing and even jogging Jaskier attempted to keep up over the winter, he was always left staggering through the first weeks of travel.

He made sure to do absolutely everything he needed to, including pee, before so much as sitting down whenever they made camp. If he didn’t, the tasks simply wouldn’t get done. Geralt was too stubborn and Jaskier wouldn’t be able to move.

His muscles would be jelly by the time they stopped, his legs moving out of sheer habit more than any actual instruction from his brain or willpower. His bad knee would ache and if he stepped wrong he’d get a shooting pain up the front. Even worse, his ankles screamed at him as he stepped over rocks and sloshed through mud. Scratch that, his hips were the worst, a near-cramping tightness in them that had him almost hunching over by the end of the day. Sometimes he couldn't even tell if it was from the pain or the muscles no longer doing their part to support him. And when he stopped moving it all seized up.

That particular year, winter had been brutal in Oxenfurt. Snow had made it impossible to keep up his usual walking routine and he’d gone and twisted an ankle rather dramatically while attempting to show off for another instructor. It shouldn’t have surprised him that his body wasn’t taking kindly to this sort of abuse, but it made him angry nonetheless.

And fuck did it hurt.

It had never hurt this bad. He didn’t even bother setting out his bedroll, he simply laid down next to the fire Geralt was building. Even the forest floor felt like sweet relief so long as he stayed horizontal. He didn’t notice, or care, what Geralt was doing, just laid there measuring his breath and longing for a soak in a hot bath.

Geralt seemed to be angling for more misery, jarring the bard back into awareness by slapping two cloths full of melting snow over his knees.

“Fuck you,” he groaned, not even able to sit up and remove the homemade torture devices his best friend had dropped on him.

“Later. Don’t move these,” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier snorted as he let his eyes close again, “Couldn’t if I wanted to.”

With an amused ‘hm’ Geralt was up and milling around the camp. Ten-ish minutes later he came back to Jaskier’s side to move the melting snow to his ankles, then to his back a little later. Jaskier barely noticed him removing the now rather small bits of snow from his body. He did notice Geralt wringing the cloths out, letting the freezing water dribble all over his face and neck. He flailed a bit, and let out a yell, but he really couldn’t move much. Not quickly anyway.

“Hm,” Geralt chuckled, crouched down next to him, “Can you roll over?”

Jaskier thought about trying, then thought about how his back screamed just from staying still, then shook his head.

Again, Geralt was gone and shuffling about. This time Jaskier paid attention though. Geralt pulled both bedrolls close to the fire, and, after a little resituating, rolled Jaskier into one. He then dragged him to the other side of the fire, with colorful protests from the bard. When he was laid down on a large patch of thick moss, Jaskier complained far less. Everything still ached, but at least he was a touch more comfortable.

When Geralt shimmied in the bedroll with him and pressed his chest firmly to Jaskier’s back, the bard nearly cried.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt whispered in his ear, on hand working at the disgustingly tight muscles in his hip, “I pushed you too far today. I don’t like when you cry.”

“I just missed you, darling,” Jaskier chuckled, doing his best not to sniffle, “It’s not that ba-”

“I can smell how much it hurts Jask.”

A couple tears finally fell onto Geralt’s arm that Jaskier was using as a pillow as he lost the performative energy that was keeping him together.

“I just want to sleep,” he breathed, not trusting his voice not to break.

Geralt nodded and lifted his hand to form axii, “Then sleep without pain.”

The last thing Jaskier remembered before the fuzzy haze swept over his body was Geralt placing a kiss on his temple. He would wonder if it had been a dream for decades.

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therogueheart · 2 years

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Dear Doppler

Its a doppler.

Its about time they tried this trick, honestly. Jaskier would've thought it would be the first damn page of the book. Kidnap him, rough him up a little, have 'Geralt' swoop in and save him.

That there's a Geralt in the doorway at all is a dead giveaway its a doppler, but the creature also didn't get quite get the shade of Geralt's eyes right.

Aureolin. But Geralt's eyes are somewhere between lemon and gold.

Its been... Months? Seven Hells, maybe even years. Jaskier's hair threatens to kiss the dimple on his smile line now. Its probably been years.

It feels like its been years.

"Jaskier. You're alive."

"Disappointed?" he asked blithely. Geralt had said that before, way back when. Just before he made that godforsaken wish and ground up what remained of Jaskier's bleeding heart.

"So what brings you to my humble abode?" he continued, cutting off whatever the doppler might've thought to say next.

"We need your help."

He barked a laugh and let his head loll, staring up at the stone above.

"Ahh, wow. Okay. You're good. That is definitely why Geralt would bother to be here. 'We need your help'. Fantastic."

When he looked down 'Geralt's' mouth was a thin line, wary stare tinged with confusion and concern.

"Jaskier, its me. I'm here."

"Oh, how I've closed my eyes and heard you say that in a thousand ways over a thousand days," Jaskier sighed, rubbing at his mouth. "You've told me you're sorry. You're here to take me away. My personal favorite is when you tell me you've missed me. That one keeps me going for a few days afterwards, silly little words that they are."

"Jask--"

"Don't."

He shifted, let his gaze drop. "It was a good attempt, I'll hand you that. You even got the crease between his brows right. But there's one fatal flaw in your grand design, dear doppler."

Silence for a time, and then, so softly;

"What's that?"

He smiled.

"Geralt would never come for me."

#rogue fics #rogue fanfic #the witcher #geraskier #the witcher: geraskier #the witcher netflix #geraskier fanfiction #fanfic #geraskier fic #geraskier fanfic #geralt/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier/geralt #jaskier x geralt #angst #unrequited love #ambiguous ending #ambiguous relationship #is it a doppler? you decide

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jaskier-cult · 3 years

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i love the geraskier dynamic where Geralt is the only one with any morals in the relationship, and frequently has to stop Jaskier's murder attempts, lest he end up having to hide a body, too

#the witcher #jaskier #geraskier #geralt #we stan jaskier #morally ambiguous jaskier #im doing this thing where i be lazy and just post the ideas my mind comes up with #cause im too lazy to write out the whole thing #but i hope this is goos #prompt #murderer jaskier #??#geralt digs it tho

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 4 years

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The Last to Know

[on ao3]

It took Geralt fifteen years and one of the hardest conversations of his life to ask Jaskier to come with him to Kaer Morhen for the winter and it's taken ten seconds and six words to make him regret the decision entirely.

They've barely made it through the front door when Lambert spots them and strolls up to greet them. Initially, Geralt is pleased to see him; it's been a long hard year and he's glad for a friendly face. Then Lambert opens his mouth and Geralt's stomach drops into the bottom of his boots.

"Jaskier," Lambert purrs, sparing Geralt only a glance before approaching the bard, "good to see you again." He claps him on the shoulder with a disconcerting familiarity and Geralt glowers at him from his spot next to Jaskier.

“What d’you mean good to see him again.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier scoffs, placing his hands on his hips, “I’ll-”

“Ran into him outside Wyzima a couple years back, spent a rather delightful night together,” Lambert wiggles his eyebrows, "you planning on staying all winter?"

Jaskier turns to Geralt for an answer but stops when he sees the look on his face. “Doubt I’d make it back down the pass in one piece,” he jokes, though the look he casts at Geralt is concerned.

"Guess we’ll be spending some time together then," Lambert smirks and Geralt can taste bile on the back of his tongue.

"Enough," he growls, pressing a hand between Jaskier's shoulders and urging him forward. He doesn't let go even when Jaskier moves on his own, and as they pass out of the main hall, Geralt hears Lambert mutter something under his breath, but the blood is rushing too hard in his ears for him to hear it.

Once they're out of sight, he lets go of Jaskier, ignoring his protests and complains about manhandling. They make their way up the stairs and Geralt leads him to the room they're supposed to share. Considering the new information, implied or otherwise, he’s regretting his decision to come this year at all.

Lambert isn't the only one. Aiden had been no less subtle than Lambert about it, and Geralt had nearly split his tankard in half listening to them reminisce about it. He'd tuned out after a little while and had to leave the room when Lambert suggested Jaskier join them in their room.

Eskel was easier to stomach, if only a little. And only because Geralt himself had fallen for him early in their years of study at the keep. Those days were long over for the two of them, but he was still able to see the draw there, understand why people would give in to Eskel without so much as a moment of hesitation. Still, knowing Jaskier is one of those people sits like acid in the pit of his stomach.

Coen is a surprise. Geralt hasn't even seen him in over a decade, so he's not sure when or how Jaskier managed to find him and fall into bed with him, but here they are.

The one saving grace is that when Vesemir joins them in the evening, Jaskier makes no visible sign of recognition. Geralt keeps quiet, though the relief that floods through him when Vesemir introduces himself is overwhelming. There are four of them left - six including Aiden and Coen - and Jaskier has fucked them all except for Vesemir. Which is little consolation when Geralt is on the wrong side of that list.

Not that he cares who the bard fucks, because if he was going to start worrying about it, he should have started a long time ago. But these are Geralt's friends, his family - the only people he has in the world. And Jaskier is willing to take each of them to bed while Geralt is where? Risking his life for a town full of people who won't appreciate it come morning? Sitting alone in their room at an inn? Walking the Path alone? It doesn't matter because there's nothing he can do to change this, and he has no right to be upset with Jaskier about whose bed he chooses to fall into.

But he hurts in a way he can't quite express, and while the others open a bottle of vodka and pull out their cards, Geralt slips out of the main hall and up to his room. He's already had too much to drink and his head is reeling with the effects of it. He'd like to sit and play with the rest of them, but he can't bear the thought of seeing them all together, thinking about how each one of them would have seduced Jaskier and taken him apart.

How often has it happened? When? If he goes upstairs now, will Jaskier wind up in one of their beds tonight instead of his? Lambert and Aiden already offered. The thought hurts more than it has any right to and Geralt tamps it down, shoving the door to his room a little too hard.

Jaskier doesn't come to bed that night.

The next day is no better. When the others are out in the yard, Geralt finds a corner of the keep that's crumbling and he sets himself to work patching it up. There's so much to do and he's glad for the chance to escape everyone's company for a little while. But eventually, Eskel comes to find him for supper and Geralt has to drag himself away from his task.

He drinks all the way through supper and after, when the others are gathered around doing whatever it is - Geralt is steadfastly ignoring all of them - he finishes off a second bottle of vodka. It doesn't matter because no one seems worried about what he's doing, but when he gets up to go to bed, Coen calls for him to join them.

"Your bard was just telling us-" he starts, but Geralt just scowls and cuts him off.

"Hardly say he's mine," he slurs, and when Eskel looks up at him there's a dawning realization on his face. And Geralt hates it because it means he didn't know, means Gerlt has less reason to be angry about this. And he wants to be angry.

He starts away, but he trips over something on the floor. He tries to correct himself, but then Jaskier is there, ducking under his arm and pushing him upright.

"I've got you," he whispers and Geralt just grunts, but he’s too tired, too numb to protest.

Jaskier helps him up to his room, uncharacteristically quiet, and helps him out of his clothes, much to Geralt's irritation and embarrassment. Geralt is asleep as soon as he hits the bed.

He's not sure if it's very late or very early when he's awoken by the creak of the bedroom door, but most of the alcohol is out of his system now and he just feels very stupid and very embarrassed. When he leans up and recognizes Jaskier's form in the doorway, both feelings intensify and he throws an arm over his face.

Jaskier is undeterred. He climbs right up on the bed and straddles Geralt's hips before draping himself over his chest.

"Look at me," he breathes and Geralt can smell the liquor on his breath. He doesn't move. "Geralt," Jaskier says softly, "you know it didn't mean anything when I was with them, right?" Geralt says nothing and so Jaskier continues. "Sometimes I just like big guys who could just as easily kill me as fuck me, It's a part of that nonexistent survival instinct you keep talking about."

And yet, Geralt thinks, not me. He wants to ask why he's not good enough, why everyone else but not him, but he can't bring himself to uncover his eyes, much less speak.

"It's nothing, honestly-"

"I don't care who you fuck, Jaskier."

"And yet you're up here all alone and you've barely looked at me since we got here." He brushes a stray strand of hair from Geralt's face and sighs. "Either you're disgusted by me or you're jealous and I simply can't bear the idea that you'd hate me for this. Tell me it's not that." Geralt huffs but says nothing.

Jaskier shuffles up further so they're chest-to-chest and he ducks his head down next to Geralt's ear.

"If you want me to," he breathes, "I'll fuck you too. I think about it all the time, you know. Fantasizing about climbing into your lap and fucking myself on that magnificent cock of yours. You do know why I don't, right?"

"Please," Geralt grits out, "enlighten me." Jaskier's lips brush against the shell of his ear and Geralt shudders despite himself.

"Because I love you too much for that, darling. Because as much as I would love it and as much as you deserve to be fucked nice and proper, I couldn't bear to have you once and never again." Jaskier sighs and buries his face into Geralt's neck, humming softly and pressing kisses into his skin.

Heat rolls up the back of Geralt's neck unbidden but he keeps quiet, unsure of how to respond. In the silence, Jaskier falls asleep, one hand still curled around the side of Geralt's neck. But Geralt remains awake, staring up at the ceiling from under his arm and he knows there's no way he'll be falling asleep tonight now.

In the morning, Jaskier is, unsurprisingly, missing so Geralt drags himself out of bed and makes for the balcony. He isn't ready to face the others quite yet, especially not if they know he's the only one Jaskier hasn't been with. He squeezes his eyes shut and leans against the railing, listening to the sounds of the wind in the trees and water running a few miles off.

He's been sitting there for some time, silent in the cool morning air when he hears the door open again behind him. He pricks his ears, listening for any sign of who it is, but Jaskier's scent hits him first. It's tainted with something he's never smelled on the bard before and as Jaskier approaches, coming to stand next to him, he realizes it's nervousness.

"Wasn't sure if you'd still be here," he says and Geralt shrugs, readjusting to lean on his forearms.

"It's my room."

"Right, of course. I er, I guess I owe you an explanation-"

"You don't owe me anything, Jaskier, you can sleep with who you wish."

"I mean about what I said last night."

"You don't-" Geralt starts but Jaskier cuts him off.

"Before you start telling me what I do and don't want or feel, I want you to know I mean it." Jaskier hesitates just for a brief moment before he sighs and turns back to Geralt, "and I won't' take it back just because you don't believe it." He crosses silently to stand next to Geralt, leaning against the railing so only inches separate them.

"I didn't even know you when I met Coen, not really. It was just after we parted ways the first time." When Geralt doesn't respond, he continues. "Lambert was a year or so later. The first time," he winces at this and Geralt does his best not to comment. "The second was a few years ago after you left me in Wyzima that one time."

"After we fought," Geralt remembers. Jaskier hums his assent. Geralt's chest tightens. They'd only fought that night because Jaskier had risked his life, stupidly, to try and interfere with a hunt. Geralt had only been trying to protect him and had, apparently, chased him right toward Lambert."

"Aiden was with him then." He doesn't elaborate but Geralt understands. After everything he's seen and heard Jaskier do over the years, a threesome with a pair of Witchers isn't really that far-fetched. He wants to ask about Eskel, but he doesn't have the strength.

Of all the Witchers that ever called Kaer Morhen their home, Eskel is the most like him in every way. Before Geralt's final trials, even Vesemir failed to tell them apart from time to time and the thought of Jaskier sleeping with him leaves a bitter taste in his mouth, makes him want to hurl himself off the balcony. Because he was there the whole time and Jaskier still found his way to Eskel instead.

"Eskel-" is the only word Jaskier gets out before Geralt stops him.

"I don't want to know when or why," he says, "just... how many times?"

"Just once. It was... too much. He reminded me of you." Jaskier turns his head just enough to look at him and Geralt doesn't face him, but he watches him out of the corner of his eye. "I never meant to hurt you, I didn't think it would. I didn't think you cared enough to-" he falters and drops his chin to his chest.

Geralt considers that. He knows Jaskier never means to hurt him, but it always seems to happen anyway and he's left to deal with the mess on his own. This is no different. Except Jaskier seems genuinely upset and after last night's confessions, Geralt isn't sure what to think. But Jaskier's voice keeps coming back to him, soft and certain against his ear I couldn't bear to have you once and never again.

"Why do you think it would never happen again?"

Jaskier turns with a start, shifting his whole body to face him. He considers Geralt's expression for a moment and huffs a humourless laugh.

"Really?" he asks, "like you don't already know. Geralt, when was the last time you let me touch you? Even in the bath, you flinch away from my touch. If we ever wound up in bed together, it could only happen by accident - a drunken mistake or something. I can't imagine you repeating the same mistake twice. Feels like a very un-Witchery thing to do." He turns away again with a deep exhale and Geralt considers his words carefully.

"What if it wasn't a mistake?"

"What if what wasn't?"

"Us," Geralt breathes and the word feels like tar on his tongue, tacky and thick.

"How could it not be?" Jaskier's voice sounds small and far away, his usual confidence nowhere to be found. "You've made it clear so many times how you feel about me."

"I lied."

"What about?"

Geralt takes a deep breath, turning to look at Jaskier and take in the pain on his face before resigning himself to the truth. "Everything," he whispers and at first he's not sure Jaskier even hears him, so he shifts, looks back out over the valley, and continues. "I hate that you were with them," he admits, "hate thinking about you with them." Geralt sighs and picks at a loose bit of stone on the underside of the railing. "Wish it had been me instead."

Jaskier moves and Geralt tries not to think about the fact that he's turning away, but then a soft hand lands on his shoulder. It takes everything in him not to flinch at the touch, especially now. He's already feeling raw and exposed and he's still feeling shitty from his hangover and lack of sleep, but he holds still for Jaskier because he's already come this far.

"Geralt," he says softly, "would you want me?" Jaskier's voice is light and unsteady in a way he's never heard before but he slides up behind him smoothly, letting his hands slip to Geralt's waist. “For more than just sex? For more than just one night?” He moves slowly, like a spooked animal, leaning into Geralt's space and pressing up against his back. Hot breath puffs against his neck and Geralt shuts his eyes, the rest of his senses trained on Jaskier. Lips brush against his skin and everything from the days before is forgotten, replaced by the simple touch of skin on skin and Geralt presses back against him.

"I'm yours, Geralt," he breathes, just above a whisper, "if you want me." Jaskier's hands slip from his waist, winding around his stomach and he holds him there, chin hooked over his shoulder and breathing against his neck. "I never meant to hurt you. You don't know what it's like to think your feelings aren't reciprocated." Geralt pauses.

"I do."

Jaskier's hands slip to his waist, turning him slowly and Geralt lets himself be moved, lets himself appreciate the softness of Jaskier's hands on him. Lets himself want it. But when Jaskier leans in, lips pressing lightly against his own, it feels wrong. As gently as he can, Geralt shrugs away from him, pulling out of Jaskier's grasp.

"I can't," he says, dropping his gaze to the floor beneath their feet. "I'm sorry. I can't."

"Okay," Jaskier breathes, but he sounds defeated and Geralt can smell the worry that overtakes him. "How can I fix this?"

"I just need time."

"Right. Of course. Why don't you come down to breakfast and we can talk later." Jaskier's fingers brush down his hip before falling away altogether and Geralt watches after him. It feels like an ending of sorts before anything could actually begin. And he delays following Jaskier down to the kitchen.

He does want him. Has wanted him for so long, but every time Jaskier looks at him all he can think of is whether he looked at the others like that, whether he touched them the same way. And he hates himself for it. He's watched Jaskier fling himself into the arms of countless strangers, so why is it that this matters so much to him?

It takes Geralt the better part of the day before he's able to face Jaskier again and when he does, he finds him in the guest room, leaning over the balcony. He's thought about it as much as he dares to and come up with nothing, but he can't just ignore Jaskier for the rest of his life. Not especially, when Jaskier hasn't done anything wrong.

Jaskier turns as soon as he hears Geralt approaching, pulling up a soft, if not restrained smile. It jabs at something deep in Geralt's chest and he forces his feet to move forward, leaning over next to Jaskier against the railing.

"Was there anyone else?" he asks, "anyone I don't know about?"

"One," he says simply and something in Geralt breaks at his easy response. Jaskier wants to make this better and Geralt hates how he feels about it because nothing is actually wrong. "I don't remember his name, from the bear school. He was the last."

"I-" Geralt starts, "I hate that they were with you and I wasn't." His chest constricts with the confession and Jaskier turns to him. "But you didn't do anything wrong. You're allowed to make your own decisions, Jaskier, even if I don't like them."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. You asked what you can do and I don't have an answer for you." He shuts his eyes as the bitter scent of fear hits his nose. "Stay?" he asks, "tonight. With me?"

"I thought you didn't want me- I thought I-"

"I can't stop thinking about you with them," Geralt admits, "but pushing you away isn't going to help." For the first time, Jaskier perks up, glancing up at him.

"Then let me help. Let me replace those thoughts with new ones." He presses up close, sliding a hand over Geralt's cheek. "As soon as you're ready."

"You'll stay tonight?"

"If it'll help, of course."

#open/ambiguous ending #hopeful ending #geraskier #the witcher #rex writes

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years

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Hey Bouncey, I woke up this morning with the world’s worst cold so I would really appreciate some good fluff (or whatever you feel like rn, I love all your work and I’m not picky) 💕💖 either way I hope you’re having a good day/evening!!

Heya, Lavender! Sorry about the cold :( I can definitely crank out some fluff for you, boo. Feel better 💖

---

Jaskier groaned and buried his face in the soft, cool skin of Geralt’s bare chest; the Witcher frowned. The bard’s forehead and cheeks were burning hot and fever-bright. His blue eyes were glassy, half-glazed over with something other than sleep.

“Do you feel alright?” he asked.

“Now that you mention it -” Jaskier paused to cough “- perhaps I feel a bit chilled.”

“You’re sick.”

“No!” the bard struggled to sit up, fighting valiantly against both Geralt and the blankets. “I’ll be fine! I can leave with you today!”

“Are you... Are you worried that I’m going to leave without you if you fall ill?”

Jaskier’s forehead knocked against Geralt’s breastbone with a dull thud. “Perhaps.”

The Witcher wrapped his arms around the bard and pulled him close again, tucking the younger man’s sweaty forehead against the side of his neck. Their temperature difference was even more stark when Jaskier was sick like this.

“I won’t leave your side, my little lark. Someone has to bring you broth and hum to you at night until you’re better.”

“You would do those things for me?” the bard rasped, throat store and voice tired.

“Of course, Julek.”

The sweet nickname was said with such adoration and sincerity that Jaskier nearly dropped immediately back to sleep. The scents of relief and contentment filled the air, swirling around the sticky-sweet smell of illness that clung against the bard’s clammy skin.

“I’m going to get a cold compress from the kitchen, alright? I’m coming back here as soon as I have it. I swear it.”

“I trust you,” the bard half-whispered. Whatever virus or mild poison had chosen Jaskier has its target would soon run its course; “See you soon.”

---

When Geralt returned to their room, Jaskier was fast asleep. He mopped him clean and tucked himself beneath the covers. He wrapped his body around the bard’s and settled in.

It would be a long few days, but making Jaskier feel better was always worth the patience.

#feel better boo #prompt fill #geraskier #ily lavender-lemon-lime #lav's fics #lavender's fics #bouncey's buddies #geraskier ficlet #sickfic #sick jaskier #caring geralt #ambiguous chemistry but they're in love #duh

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purrincesskittens · 3 years

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Got an idea for a short fic I really am in the mood for angst right now.

AND IT ALL FADES AWAY

"It has been some time since I met someone like you." Jaskier turned to look at the pretty thing he had been chatting with at a table after his performance.

They sat in a small tavern in a small nameless town not on any map where the people seemed to be faceless. All looked the same almost and hard to focus on his gaze would slide off them if he tried to focus. Not that he minded if the town and its people weren't normal or the pretty thing beside him.

He wasn't sure if they were actually female as they appeared to be or not but their beauty was definitely something. Long golden hair that he could have sworn had been black when he first walked in and brilliant green eyes such an unnatural shade of green that seemed to have seen so much. They were kind though even if they weren't human. When some of the other travelers staying in town requested songs about the White Wolf this beauty distracted them by requesting a different song and placing some coins in his lute case.

Now as he sat beside them he couldn't help but feel a strange kinship with then. "Oh?" He isn't sure what they meant by someone like him, "We are alike in someways. We have lost our soul mates or we never got the chance to experience them. I can not fix what is broken but I can offer some peace. It has been many years since I had a mate. I don't wish for another but a Companion would be nice."

They hold out a hand as the tavern fades away and they are left standing in the woods in a mossy glen filled with so much magic and power even Jaskier could feel it surrounding them like a blanket. "Will it hurt?" He asks somewhat resigned to being hurt once more. They shook their head giving him a gentle smile, "No in fact I can help you not to hurt as much anymore. Dull things so your heart isn't so heavy. Much like the people you saw in town anything that causes you pain your mind will glance off."

Jaskier hesitated for a moment unsure knowing Geralt would tell him how stupid it would be to accept yet the very thought of his White Wolf, no not his, hurts his heart more. "Will I still have my music?" He questions running his fingers across his lute. With a nod from the beauty before him he took their hand. A small tingle sensation is all he felt as their magic settled over him fully. Settling in him, changing him and dulling the world around him except for the ancient being neither man nor woman but something that had been around before the conjunction of the spheres even.

His mortality gone replaced with time given to him from his new Companion's incredibly long immortal life. The heart ache that had been with him since the Mountain doesn't hurt anymore just a dull throb that was easy to ignore but still something that would always be with him. He can't think of the name of the one who broke his heart anymore nor focus on what they looked like. It felt peaceful in a way. Together Jaskier and his new Companion turned and walked deeper into the woods leaving the man's world behind and the White Wolf with it. For now at least.

#geraskier angst #hinted geraskier #geraskier #post rare species #post mountain #heartbreak #Jaskier #immortal jaskier #the being has no name for their species #the being can share their immortality with humans if they so wish #ambiguous ending #open ending #platonic Jaskier x oc #one sided geraskier #unrequited geraskier #or is it?

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yoursummerfrost · 4 years

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a heart i couldn’t silence

The working title of this fic was "Yen either adopts or kidnaps a teenager, depending on your POV," but I promise no actual kidnapping takes place. This fic is a big ole love letter to found families and the idea of "coming of age" as a continous process. Also, a massive amount of banter?

Rating: T Word Count: ~38k Pairing(s): Yen & Ciri familial focus; Yenralt, Geraskier, and Yenfri also included Summary: Yen eyes her sidelong. "You're pretty shy for a kid who, what—climbed out the window and tracked down a man she barely knew?"

"Walked out the front door," Ciri mutters. "Grandpa was playing video games."

Aka: When Geralt's goddaughter turns up outside the bar on karaoke night, Yennefer is the one who convinces him to let her stay.

Read here on AO3!

#yennefer of vengerberg #cirilla fiona elen riannon #the witcher #yennefer #yenralt #yenfri #renfri of creyden #renfri #geraskier #theres also some fun ambiguously platonic yennskier #jaskier #I wrote a thing #bartender au #also if you skipped pt 2 bc of the trigger warnings you can go straight to part 3 #it takes place chronologically after pt 2 but i tried to leave enough details #so that you could pick up on the context well enough

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jsficrecs · 3 years

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To Sleep Perchance To - The Witcher

To Sleep Perchance To by sospes

**Content Warning for graphic depictions of violence, and physical and mental torture!**

Rating: 16+ Audiences

Word Count: 16955

Status: Complete!

Summary: Jaskier gets kidnapped and tortured. Geralt comes to rescue him.

Except it's not quite that simple.

Some Thoughts: Holy shit. This fanfic is incredible. Full disclosure, I’m not the type to read torture fanfics ever, or at all, but I decided to read this one for some strange reason. I was fine combing the archive’s top kudos’ 20 pages, and I stumbled upon this fic, and I haven’t been the same since. The torture is all fun, mostly what you’d expect and is fairly graphic, but it gets worse. It’s just so beautifully written out, and I was in shock when I finished reading it because the torture made me squeamish, but the ending made me gawk at my screen. It’s too good. I wish I could relive that moment again.

You will be in for a treat once you get to reading this because it isn’t like your usual Jaskier gets kidnapped and tortured by Nilfgaard story. It’s more and the experience is absolutely chilling.

Available on Site(s): Ao3

Part of a Series: No.

Other Notes: Kudos: 5700+; Bookmarks: 1200+; Hits: 35100+ (if you’re into those kinds of statistics). Jaskier Whump; Post Episode 6; Jaskier’s POV; Torture; Hurt/Comfort; Ambiguous Ending; One shot

#the witcher #geraskier #fic rec #fanfic #16+ audiences #10k words #Jaskier whump #Whump #Torture #Jaskier's POV #Post Episode 6 #Hurt Comfort #Ambiguous Ending #One Shot

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fruithoods · 4 years

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One of the fundamental truths that the universe loved to remind Jaskier of was that he was utterly useless. Unworthy, even.

It was only cemented in his mind the countless times that Geralt had to save him from a monster, or even worse, a random thug in a tavern.

He had no true talents other than his words, his music, and what use were they really?

He couldn’t save anyone with words or a lively tune. And yet he was surrounded by the most powerful people on the Continent.

Geralt of Rivia, the famed Witcher, the Butcher of Blaviken, the White Wolf. A mutant, a man with unnatural power, whose mastery of the sword was unparalleled. Yennefer of Vengerberg, one of the most powerful mages who walked the earth. A woman who could raze cities and read minds.

They were a love story for the ballads, two powerful, beautiful people brought together by destiny, by fate.

And then there was Jaskier. A simple bard. A human bard. Whose greatest talent was managing to keep a steady note even while drunk.

Gods, he really was worthless, wasn’t he.

In the presence of gods and monsters, what worth is a man?

It was part of the reason he had never come between Yennefer and Geralt. Because he loved Geralt, and he knew that he was unworthy of him. Geralt deserved someone who could keep up with him, someone who could challenge him. He deserved someone powerful and as immortal as he was.

Someone who wasn’t Jaskier.

Every time he saw Geralt, he had to stop himself. Had to hide the love which encompassed his entire being.

Every word he said to him, every move he made was perfectly calculated to make sure that he never knew.

It was an endless torture, but a sweet one.

And so the next time they encountered Yennefer, he left.

He stood outside the tent where they lay together, and whispered his final goodbye to the wind.

It was what Geralt deserved.

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fandom-mood · 4 years

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geralt x jaskier - modern day royalty au - “when has falling love ever been a good idea?”

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher #geraskier au #alternate universe #moodboard #aesthetic #writing prompt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #i will always be a sucker for any modern royalty aus #i couldnt think of a specific plot #so an ambiguous dialogue bit it is instead #i know I've done a similar one for another pairing #but i think the idea fits these two SO well

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enjambament · 4 years

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It’s chapter 2 of my Geralt/Jaskier fic time.

Come for Jaskier-the-governess, stay for the stormy moors.

#geralt/jaskier #regency au #the witcher fic #geraskier #ambiguous references to jane eyre and northanger abbey #new chapter

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therogueheart · 2 years

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Death Becomes Thee

Jaskier has seen a hundred deaths in his lifetime, deaths of all faces and kinds. His mother was the first–so early in his life all he remembers is the low lilt of her lullabies and the grief on his father’s face at the funeral.

Jaskier has seen all things die; people, animals, plants, ideas and beliefs.

Hope.

Love.

Death comes for everything, in the end, for it is the end. The end of all things. Death will spare nothing and nobody; even stone erodes over time. Death claims all.

Even Witchers.

But not today. Death comes for all but it can be bargained with, sometimes. Cheated, even. Death has a tally but most often it is numbers, not names, and, well.

Jaskier is a number.

There’s no question of it, in the end. No comparison. A Witcher to a human bard. Geralt to Jaskier. The White Wolf of Destiny against one face amongst millions, a bard who’s name and songs will fade the way a flower wilts.

“Life is the price,” the voice rasps, a horrid grate of death and emptiness. The whisper of a blunted sword over a thousand throats.

Geralt would pay it. A hundred times over. His life for Ciri’s; his life for Yennefer’s; his life for some random pockmarked farmer’s in a backwater town in the middle of nowhere.

But Geralt cannot. This is not how Geralt’s story ends; facing down a power older than any of them, the difference in a tipped scale swaying the weight of their lives between them.

Geralt will do anything for his Child of Destiny, and Jaskier…

Jaskier will do anything for Geralt.

Jaskier will do anything; even die, for Geralt.

Because what use does he serve otherwise? What else could he possibly offer? It s a poet’s desired end; to give all in the name of love. History is riddled with woeful romance and tales of sacrifice in the name of the heart’s desire.

It is the greatest gift Jaskier could give. The greatest deed he could ever do.

He got Geralt into this mess, anyway. This is a debt repaid. The greatest apology he could ever offer.

He steps forward.

Life is the price, and he is a living thing. Life is the price but it demands a number, not a name.

And Jaskier is a number.

Geralt says his name.

It is the best possible thing Jaskier could ask to be the last thing he hears. His story began with Geralt’s voice and now it will end with it; that rumble like distant thunder, a calling into the wild and the unknown.

For the first time in his life, Jaskier does not follow it.

He closes his eyes.

He cannot bear for the last thing he sees to be death’s face, and so he thinks instead of Geralt. Of silver hair, shining snow-white in the winter sun. Of eyes that can never decide between being gold or honey. Of the peek of pointed canines the first time Geralt ever smiled at one of Jaskier’s jokes, begrudging and hidden but a smile nonetheless.

Jaskier has seen a hundred deaths in his lifetime, but Geralt’s will never be one of them, and with this knowledge he dies peaceful, quiet, thinking only of Geralt.

#the witcher #geraskier #rogue fanfic #the witcher s2 #tw: character death #tw: death #tw: death mention #jaskier/geralt #jaskier x geralt #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #twn #the witcher netflix #the witcher geraskier #the witcher: geraskier #angst #character death #ambiguous timeline #potentially unrequited love

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meduseld · 4 years

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In Hades' House

He can’t leave Kaer Morhen until spring.

(Also on AO3)

Jaskier's voice echoes in the cold, empty halls of Kaer Morhen.

There's no sound to compete with it, bolstered by the rich acoustics of the stone.

There wouldn't be, even if it was filled to capacity as it was in its golden days, not when populated by men that walk even quieter than cats do. And speak less than Geralt does.

The songs make him less lonely.

In all these brief cold days, since he finally decided to lift his voice and sing in a fit of pique and longing, the most surprising thing is that no one has tried to stop him.

Almost everyone else here has exceptional hearing, after all.

But Geralt spends his days at whatever work there is running the place, and training Ciri, and dealing with Yennefer as she portals in and out. Or putting out whatever fires she sets.

Ciri learns, from whoever is there, or from books if there isn’t anyone around.

And there’s the other three witchers, wolves, seem to vanish whenever Jaskier's not looking. He’s almost sure it’s just three, not more or less.

It’d be no surprise to find ghosts in this keep.

But as populated, or not, that it is, and with the few usable rooms they keep to, they don’t see much of each other.

There's usually no one to hear him but the snow.

And maybe the monsters outside.

It's a little secret, the fact that the woods outside Kaer Morhen are fairly teeming with creatures, most hideous and bloodthirsty. Not very dangerous ones, to witchers, but dangerous enough.

They're not worth the effort, they're good for practice, they’re good for study, they're there because witchers don't hire other witchers; all things Ciri has posited and Geralt has quietly hummed at, in lieu of an answer.

It's all of that, Jaskier thinks, and protection for the keep besides.

Not that he could leave before the days when the sun starts staying longer in the sky, at least enough for the snows to begin to melt, anyway.

It's dark in the keep already, made worse by the fact that the witchers don't bother with lighting torches.

Sometimes all he can think of is how thin the air seems here, how haunted, and the simple idiot fact that he willingly sealed himself in the wolves' den.

For varying values of willingly, anyway.

"It was there with their eyes like glowing embers-" "A new one?" says a voice behind him and he jumps.

In the dark, Geralt looks like a ghost. And moves as easily.

"I like it better than the others" he adds, and Jaskier is about to protest that Geralt likes all his songs, thank you very much, and not just the ones that sing the White Wolf's praises, when he does the last thing Jaskier's expecting.

He keeps talking.

"Eskel would like you to know that arson doesn't rhyme with abortion, and Ciri would like you to sing the one about the runaway bride again, when you can". The first slips past his ears unheard, but the second perks him up.

"And the other one? Whatshisface- does he too admire my musical stylings?" "Lambert would like you to shut up" Geralt says but he's close to smiling now.

"Two out of three isn't bad, and I'm sure you-"

This time Geralt stops his running mouth with a kiss.

When their lips touch, and Geralt's heavy tongue splits the seam of his lips open, he realizes just how cold he is.

Maybe he looks like a ghost too.

Certainly he looks less alive than Geralt, glowing eyed and grinning in the bowels of the place that made him, the place he belongs.

More and more, all of Jaskier’s songs are about him. His truest muse.

“What would you have done?” Geralt whispers into his neck, disconcertingly close to playful.

Maybe Ciri finally managed to stab one of his brothers today. She’s been trying for weeks.

“What?” he says eloquently, trying to stuff Geralt’s tongue back in his mouth.

It’s as hot as molten iron, and he’s shivering again from the lack.

“If I hadn’t come for you” he rumbles, probably thinking Jaskier alone here, of the cold and the dark. Maybe he’s not sure if he likes Jaskier helpless. Geralt certainly likes being the one to rescue him

Which is why it’s ridiculous that he’d ask.

“Of course you’d come for me” Jaskier says. There’s no other answer.

Even with ordinary eyes, he sees how the slits in the amber of Geralt’s eyes, already growing fat, widen enough to swallow all the color.

Like a real wolf, Geralt’s teeth sink in Jaskier’s throat and drag him back to his deepest den, the wide and fragrant cedar bed in his chambers.

Jaskier goes, more than willingly, now.

There’s no better way to get warm.

****

A/N: Look, I was avoiding work at the end of the day like a normal person and then @dancinbutterfly posted about a HadesxPersephone Geraskier AU and this just. Happened.The title may seem obvious, but it was a legit way of referring to the Underworld.Jaskier is singing his variation on Incubus' In The Company of Wolves, Eskel is referencing his version of My God How the Money Rolls In and Ciri means his version of Jock O'Hazeldean (you can find my favorite cover here).

#Geraskier #Geralt #Jaskier #There's a lot of ambiguity here #Medufic #The Witcher

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