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annmarcus63 · 2 years

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"I want to erase it" say Geralt while absently rubbing the small and colourful mark on his wrist. "What, dear?" reply Jaskier with his high pinch noise that mean "i'm excited you're talking please go on"

"The mark" the elephant on the room. Geralt expected the tension on the air, knowing what Jaskier thinks about soulmarks, what he did not foresee is the panic that he can perceive coming from the bard: the frantic heart punching his fist at his chest, the light sweating pooling at his forehead, the tremble on the eyelids. "What?" repeat Jaskier sounding casual, contradicting what Geralt could read of his body. "Soulmark. I have never wanted it" And Jaskier keep quiet, standing in front of the large mirror were he previously was looking at himself. "The wizards erased theirs. I'll ask Yennefer if she..." there's not point to end the sentence, he has made his point.

"Why would you..?" Jaskier paused to breathe one, two, three times "is is because of Yennefer?"

"Yes. No. She didn't tell me to do it if that's what you're implying..."

"...I'm not implying anything"

"Then why are you mad"

"Im not"

"I can smell it"

"Right. I'm not"

"Mmmh" Fuck, he did expect a reaction like this but somehow this feels wrong for the wrong reasons.

Jaskier sits on the wooden chair by the window and says "Geralt...you know what'd happen to the other person" He has read about it a long time ago. In truth to erase a mark was a rare wish, extremely uncommon. Even if you found out that your soulmate wouldn't make you happy, erase the mark is unthinkable. That's how important they are for society, but not for him. He did understand Jaskier's reaction, he has been waiting for his soulmate for years. To reject something that someone elses want it so badly is selfish in a way.

“Yes”

"They'll die, Geralt"

“I'm not even sure they're alive. I've had this damn mark all my life, they may have died years ago for all that I know" Jaskier leaves the chair to stand in front of him, a defeated air on his shoulders. And Geralt pretends he's not hurt by the disappointment in the bard's eyes. He had expected comprehension not judgement.

"They are" reply Jaskier with cold certainty. “That mark has been with you all your life waiting for the right moment to send them to you" He should not have said anything. He must have continued with his plan without letting his friend know, but well, at the end it is his decision and Jaskier must understand that.

"I'm sorry, Jaskier. I must do this." After a wave of sepulchral silence Jaskier returns to the chair, he looks like an old ragdoll waiting to be replaced for a new one.

"When?" ask Jaskier sounding hollow, distant, as if he's not there but by the coast, his favorite place.

"Next time Yennefer and I see each other I'll ask her"

"Then" Adds Jaskier looking at the wall "it'll be better if I'm not there" The thing is that Jaskier doesn't know how to ask for something he had never had the right to. How could you say your best friend that his soulmates is alive and he loves him so much. How could you confess that you're the very thing he doesn't want? He couldn't just ask him to choose him over his real love.

HERE'S PART TWO

PART THREE

FINAL

#geraskier #the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt x jaskier #i just love soulmates au #and to make jaskier sad #yeah i hate myself too

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marchtothefuckingsea · 2 years

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Nothing Without You - Geralt of Rivia

My Masterlist.

Soulmate AU!! But basically just hurt/comfort with a bit of soulmate au to spice things up lmao, hurt/comfort, angst, x female or female identifying reader (for plot, but they use they/them pronouns if any are used at all)

Word count: 2.4k

Warnings: Injury, injured reader, blood, canon violence. Not proofread.

Summary: Soulmate AU where your eyes are the colour of your soulmate's; except it's just a bit different for witchers and theirs.

Before Geralt had become a witcher, he remembered the colour of his soulmate's eyes; of his. A striking shade of green - greener than all the leaves in the spring.

I remembered the colour of my eyes: of my soulmate's. They had been a warm brown; the warmest shade of brown I had ever seen. Warmer than all the reds and yellows and oranges of the autumn, and browner than the darkest of chocolates, but when the sun shone on them, they held the most beautiful of golden sunsets; But shortly before my 10th birthday, I awoke with striking yellow eyes. My parents were shocked. My mother demanded to throw me out, to be rid of the witcher child. My father had gone as far as to leave her, taking me with him. He was killed when I was fifteen; by angry townspeople who thought he had to die for protecting me and loving me unconditionally. I was a monster to them.

And so that was what I became.

I traveled, living the way of a witcher and hunting creatures for coin. It was not the life I would have expected or, in all honesty, would have wanted for myself, but it was the life I now lived. I did not blame my soulmate, but sometimes I wondered if I would ever meet the person who had damned me to this way of life.

It was that path that had been the easiest to take. People believed witchers could not have soulmates, that the bonds were broken when they had gone through the trials. Those like me often took to the roads, in search of their witcher soulmate; Once you met them, your eyes would turn their true colour. It was almost impossible to find them, since the eyes of the witchers did not take the colour of their soulmate's. It was completely up to chance whether you met them or not. Very few were lucky enough, but to them it was the only chance at a normal life.

I had taken the route of no return, simply going along with the facade. There were certain perks to the job, the air of fearful respect from the villagers and getting to travel the lands, none of which I would have had as a normal woman back in my village. All because of my eyes.

I gazed at myself in the dusty mirror of the tavern, took in my tattered state and the slight darkened look around the edges of my golden eyes. I had grown accustomed to them, growing to love the colour of my soulmate's eyes as much as I could, given what grief they had forsaken upon me. Living the life of a witcher made me come to have all the more respect for them, whoever they may be.

I sighed, straightening up and shrugging my cloak on, as I prepared to continue tracking the beast I had come here for. It was a vile creature, living mostly in the forests, disguising itself as a fallen tree to the average passerby. It had begun to pick people off at first, just the average villager; but the beast fed off of magical energy, and edged ever closer to the village, searching for a food source. It was soon preying on healers and small-time magicians, people with magical powers. It had even been said to fell a witcher. It grew ever more powerful as they sent sorcerers one after the other, each failing to return as it consumed their magical energy. Soon it wasn't even bothering with the average townsfolk anymore; it was well fed.

I was quite confident with my abilities to slay the creature; I did not possess any sort of magic, so therefore it would regard me as an average villager, hopefully not even bothering with me, I thought as I slung my sword over my shoulder and clipped my sheathed axe to my hip. Unless my witcher eyes counted.

"'It's not very far.'" I muttered to myself, pausing to lean against a tree and catch my breath. I had been told to keep an eye out for a cabin. Among the old, rotten firewood behind it was where the beast supposedly hid. It would be easy to tell from the others, it would have no moss growing and attaching it to the ground like the others. It simply wouldn't have been there long enough for that. I'd find it, chop its wooden heart out, and collect my coin, easy-

My head jerked up when I heard a creaking sound, swinging back and forth, trying to see what it was. I saw nothing, no movement at all, but the sound was unmistakably loud.

I stumbled back as a fallen log to the right of me rose up. Its hollow eyes staring right into my soul. I watched as it grew taller and taller, stretching its branches and limbs out and shaking dirt and leaf litter off of itself.

"Fuck." I guess my eyes did count.

I jumped back, barely dodging its first swing. It swung another branch at me, this time catching me. I managed to duck away from the large branch, but the smaller branches and twigs whipped against my bare forearms, covering them in small cuts. I hissed, pulling my axe out of its sheath.

The next time it slashed at me, I swung the axe in a huge arc. The unbelievably sharp blade sliced through several smaller branches with ease. A horrible screech split through the air, causing me to cover my ears. I scrambled back when it reached for me again, turning and running for the edge of the clearing, just out of its reach. I watched from a safe distance as the beast grabbed for me, growling and crackling in frustration before suddenly stilling, standing upright like a normal tree. Did it think I was that stupid?

A deafening cracking sound echoed throughout the woods, but the 'tree' did not move. It was followed by a rumble, and the ground tremored. I watched in horror as it ripped its roots from the ground, the dirt falling from them. It stomped over in my direction, and a surge of panic went through me.

I dove for the cover of the brush. Just before I made it, a branch wrapped around my ankle, sharply jerking me back into the clearing, hard. I cried out, my ankle audibly snapping. I struggled against it, to no avail. It suddenly let go of me, and I scrambled back for the bushes once again; And once again, it grabbed me and harshly dragged me back. A strangled cry escaped my throat. I felt the bones in my ankle shifting and floating around. If it hadn’t been broken before, it definitely was now.

The tree creature whipped me up off of the ground and slung my body through the air as if I were a rag doll. My body came into contact with the ground with a thud, muted by the layers and layers of leaf litter on the forest floor. If it weren’t for the half-rotten log hidden beneath, it would have been an otherwise cushioned landing; but of course, I wasn’t that lucky. My head whipped forward and hit the side of the log. I tumbled over the log, continuing to rollI several feet through the mud and brush before I stopped. My head pounded, and my vision blurred dangerously. I closed my eyes to blink in an attempt to clear my vision, but I was unable to open them again.

I tossed my head side to side, straining my arms against the branches that held them down. I opened my eyes, lifting my head to see what restrained me. The thick branches continued to wind around my wrists and ankles, and an even larger one emerged from the ground and began to coil around my middle. I continued to struggle weakly against the monster’s ‘arms’ as they sapped my energy relentlessly. My breath hitched in my throat when the branch around my broken ankle suddenly constricted it, causing the fragmented bones to shift.

An axe suddenly sliced into one of the limbs restraining me, missing my hand by less than a centimeter. It chopped into the rest of them, freeing me from the monster’s clutches with a horrible scream that echoed around the clearing. I rolled onto my side, pushing myself onto my hands and knees. Ignoring the way my head spun, I staggered to my feet. I stumbled over to my own hatchet while the beast was distracted with the white-haired man. I fell back onto all fours as I reached down to grab it, wasting precious time to stumble back onto my feet. The man was fighting against the tree still, his eyes unable to meet mine. He grunted when it brought up a large limb to meet his axe, ripping it away when the blade became stuck in the wood.

I suddenly rushed up to the tree, its heart hollow exposed, and sank the blade of my small hatchet into its heart. I stood slowly, swaying on my feet. My yellow gaze darted up to meet his, and I could have swore I saw his own golden eyes flicker a shade of the warmest brown I had ever seen, before I slumped to the ground in an unconscious heap.

The worn bed frame creaked and groaned beneath my weight as I shifted onto my side with a low whine. My head throbbed painfully when I lifted it. The room was old and abandoned, and cobwebs and dust clung to every crevice. I blinked in confusion. How did I get here?

I propped myself onto my elbows, before forcing myself into a sitting position. I ignored the fatigue pulling at my limbs and the pounding in my head, glancing around. Panic began to set in as I came to my senses and realized I had no idea where I was.

Heavy footsteps suddenly sounded from behind the closed door, and I was immediately on defense.

"You're safe here." The man from earlier reassured me, shutting the door behind him. I eyed him warily, though a strange, reluctant sense of calm washed over me with his presence.

"Who are you?"

"Lie back down." I didn't budge, and he huffed in frustration. "Lie down and I'll tell you."

"I'm fine." I argued stubbornly.

"I know you're in pain. Lie down." He demanded, pressing a large hand to my chest. I obliged without complaint this time. My body immediately relaxed into the bed, all my muscles and nerves finally quieting their screams of protest. I watched him curiously as sat on the bedside. I uncomfortably shifted over to put some distance between us.

"Geralt of Rivia." He introduced himself. "You’re not a witcher.” His voice rumbled as his eyes searched mine curiously.

“Oh here we go again with all this sexist bullshit about how women can’t be witchers-” I grumbled.

“Your eyes aren’t gold.” He said matter-of-factly. “They’re green.”

“What?” I asked him, dumbfounded. I began to struggle back into a sitting position, the sudden need to find some sort of reflective surface too much to bear.

“Stay.” He grunted. He dug into a backpack sat by the wall, retrieving a flask and handing it to me. I brought it up to my face, staring at my reflection in shock. My eyes were no longer the striking yellow I had grown so used to. They were now an almost equally stunning green. The unfamiliar eyes gazed back at me.

“I’m your soulmate.” My eyes darted up to his face.

“No, there’s no way-”

“Your eyes were golden when I found you in the woods. They’re not now.” He said simply. I suddenly recalled his eyes flickering brown as I met his gaze before I passed out.

“Your eyes are brown..” My voice trailed off.

“So that’s what they were.”

“I remember, your eyes were such a pretty shade of brown. Then they turned yellow when I was eleven or so, I think.”

“The trials.”

“The witcher trials?” He simply nodded. My eyes wandered unseeingly. I was completely lost in my thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” He said quietly.

“For what?”

“I imagine it couldn’t have been easy for you. Not if you’ve taken up the life of a witcher.”

I shrugged, wincing when the motion pulled at some injury on my shoulder I didn't even know I had. "It was the easiest thing to do."

"Was it?"

"I guess so." I hesitated. "I don't know. I just went where the fates took me."

"It's a curse."

Silence hung heavy in the air.

"I never thought I'd find you, you know? What were the chances?" I admitted, glancing back at him.

"Very slim." He agreed.

"You're free to live a normal life now." He said after a moment.

"Do you really think I'd want to? After everything I've experienced?"

"If I were still in my village, I'd already be popping out kids as a housewife," I continued. "But because of this whole thing–because of you– I've been able to do all this. Hell, I'm known as the one and only badass female witcher, I've convinced people of the supposedly impossible; I'm not giving up that title."

"So that was you." He mused. "What are you going to do now, then?"

It suddenly hit me that I no longer had the one thing that allowed me to get this far: my golden eyes. I could put on my act all I wanted to, but that couldn't save me from the fact that I was now a fraud.

"I…I don't know." I admitted quietly. "I'm nothing now."

"I can't just go back to normal, Geralt. I can't, I'd kill myself out of boredom."

"Come with me." He offered suddenly.

"What?"

"Travel with me. You're more than capable, if you've managed to convince people you're a witcher."

"But I'm not anymore." I argued. "I'm a fraud. A phony. I’d just drag you down further." He snorted at that.

"That doesn't matter."

"You don't seem like the type to make that offer. I thought you'd prefer to be alone."

"I do, but I can make an exception for my soulmate."

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restless-witch · 5 months

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nothing in the world is mine, but my love, mine

hey hey I did a one-shot for once, I've posted it on Ao3 here but I know some of y'all like to read fic on tumblr so it's below the cut

Comments and likes always appreciated <3

He clocks the bard as either noble or a romantic the moment he sees the gloves on his hands. They're subtle, as far as the custom goes, a dark olive colored kidskin with a simple flower button wrapped around his wrist and covering only his thumb. The Witcher always wears gloves of a kind, Jaskier determines after a few weeks on the path together, though out of utility. a quick soulmates AU where soulmates have matching marks on the sides of their hands // title shamelessly stolen from Mitski's "My Love Mine All Mine"

Rated: T for swearing

Fandom: The WItcher TV

Pairing: Geraskier (Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier), background Yennralt (Yennefer of Vengerber/Geralt of Rivia)

Language: English

It's not satisfying when the bards confirms both to be true on their way to investigate the devil but when they're being kicked by Toruviel, he thinks that if the bard was a full gloved wearing hack then they'd both be dead.

Which also isn't satisfying.

The Witcher always wears gloves of a kind, Jaskier determines after a few weeks on the Path together, though out of utility.

Apparently the most dressed down the witcher ever gets is a pair of fingerless gloves worn even to sleep. Something about improving his grip and tendon injuries- Geralt tenses up when he can sense Jaskier wants to ask if witchers even have marks. Jaskier can feel how fragile their friendship is. He doesn't press the issue.

He hopes that puts a mark in his favor.

By the end of the season, Geralt determines the bard has no less than seven pairs of gloves- yet only two of them are permitted to actually get dirtied. Two suede pairs to match the colors of his "lover's eyes" (unoriginally brown and blue), three pairs for wearing in town, and a scant two pairs for all his bathing, cooking, and laundry.

It's utterly ridiculous.

Before they part at Ban Glan for the winter, he tells the bard to get more sensible gloves before spring on the Path.

He's at Ard Carraig before he realizes he planned for the bard to join him again.

When he returns to Oxenfurt, the two pairs of gloves he has for washing are nearly worn to shreds- he throws them down on the table at the Wishful Warbler with a grin when Shani asks about his travels. He's going on real adventures with his-maybe-friend-Geralt and getting dirty and everything. He spends the winter as a research assistant to Professor Berlyn and learning to make stacks of washing gloves.

His friends, who largely only own a pair or two or have entirely dispensed with the custom, are overrun with gloves of varying quality. Priscilla generously accepts a stack whose thumbs must all be split open to accommodate even her dainty digit.

He manages to barter for a pair of amber saffron dyed kidskin gloves- painstakingly transcribing Metz's treatises on celestial calendars small enough for Valdo Marx to use them as crib notes.

It's worth it.

It's a true lark to set them along with his brown and blue gloves and he whistles when they meet up in the spring and he waggles them in Geralt's face and thinks Geralt is about to strangle him- before the ludacris stack of washing gloves topples out of his bag onto the witcher's lap and he can't help but bark a laugh into Jaskier's delighted face.

He knows the bard is, at least, serious about walking the Path when he drops the stack of gloves on Geralt's lap. It's a bit of a child's attempt at adulthood, he admits to himself because he knows it would crush the bard to know twenty years of life does not make a man.

Still, it dampens his concerns of noble nonsense a bit to see where the calluses from needlework have made his fingertips even more knobby alongside the ones from his lute. For all the work Jaskier puts into his hands- carefully filing down his calluses and nails when they crack and rubbing ointments in before he beds down- Geralt can see it's a dedication to practicality and not vanity.

The bard is unconcerned by the healing scars where broken strings have cut into the flesh or the uneven tan marks across the backs of his hands where the different gloves have sat.

Jaskier wonders, just a teensy bit, if Geralt's glove wearing excuse isn't a little... weak.

Always needing his full grip strength?

It's a lighthearted solstice evening where he's helping Geralt in the bath when the witcher turns his head to the side, immediately stands up and storms over to the next room (nearly cock out and everything if Jaskier hadn't thought to throw the bath sheet at him) and throws an unwanted suitor off the serving girl.

There's suds dripping out of Geralt's hair all over the floor that he knows he'll wipe up later with the very gloves he's wearing now and Jaskier thinks he is maybe falling in love, for real this time.

A handful of times, he catches the bard cooing over marks in taverns. He wonders if it's a bit- some flirtation over how a lass or lad with such lovely signs could possibly take up with a scoundrel like him.

It's not the most rakish bit he could suspect of the bard- though he notices the bard never takes off his gloves in return. He wears them even in the cities and hamlets where the custom is less common or replaced with simple patches of dyed skin.

It makes him seem damn right virginal to keep them on all the time.

Perhaps the bard's mark is something obscene- it's not unheard of. If that were true though, he suspects the bard would leverage it into some pickup line about his prowess in bed.

Perhaps the bard has no marks- a person blessedly free of obligation or destiny.

He thinks it would be a kinder fate for Jaskier to be free of those kinds of concerns.

Jaskier knows his fastidiousness with wearing gloves is a little unusual for the current fashion but he commits to the bit.

He thinks it's more romantic to have them revealed and thinks his are especially gorgeous; a simple sun on his right hand and a moon on his left, a small comet arcing over each and a few lines he thinks are wind or perhaps clouds. He's seen more ornate or filigreed marks- even the occasional mark with a splash of color- but his marks are so curiously endearing.

When he links his bare hands together he sees a miniature of the universe and hopes that one day, he may hold his soulmate's marks against his own and feel the world between their hands.

He'll admit he's kept the privilege of the reveal to himself; but he'll be a little selfish if it means he can know to watch their delight when he reveals a world in his hands- a world to share.

He's not sure where his soulmate will fit in this life he's made in Oxenfurt and on the Path, but he never could have predicted the love that's already sprung up in his life already.

It's a very late night, or a very very early morning, when Geralt asks Yennefer about her marks- the marks erased when she became a mage.

"Never had one," she says, teasingly tracing the edge of his gloves, "I never needed fate to find love."

In the dark, between a sigh and a moan, his gloves are cast away.

When the sun has properly risen and midday creeps closer, she holds hands between her own.

"Rather provincial, aren't they?" She brings the tender pale flesh of his palm to her mouth and bites playfully, "I'd expect nothing less of a Rivian."

"Not quite a Rivian," he says and gently wriggles his fingers against her jaw, smiling as she can't help laugh and let the marks out of her teeth, "are they to your liking?"

Her answer comes as a carafe of apple juice.

It's a hard day: starting with Geralt stumbling through a portal smelling of lilac and gooseberries and ending with Jaskier dragging a nearly-drowned Geralt out of a waterhag's shack.

Two baths were called- a rare luxury in a rickety town- for Jaskier knew a shared bath would end up with at least one of them more disgusting at the end. Geralt is, Melitele be praised, uninjured besides a black eye that blooms stark against the lingering potion-pale pallor he'd had earlier.

The two strip and Jaskier climbs into his bath: Geralt casts a look at the door and cocks his head and throws his pus-soaked gloves straight into the chamberpot.

They soak, side by side, and chatter tiredly and Jaskier thinks nothing of it when Geralt offers to perk up his water and he sees the moon and comet and dappled lines on Geralt's right hand as he casts Igni into the bath.

The smell of lilac and gooseberries and fucking are starting to sweat out of Geralt's hair and the memories of the wedding feast cut through him, unbidden, and Jaskier should have won another master's degree in performance for the way he blames the jump in his heart on the scalding water.

The curling misery he later blames on the thought of ridding the swamp stench from his boots.

Jaskier learns to knit gloves sometime around when Geralt forces himself to admit the bard is past boyhood. It's a rather domestic skill for Jaskier to learn in adulthood, though he claims they're easier to make and repair on the Path: which isn't a lie exactly and the bard does earn them a few coins fiddling with the needles in town and selling the gloves.

The knitted gloves seem to be his preference now- less prone to tearing as they wear and able to go longer without laundering. It's the threads of anxiety beneath it that give Geralt pause, he's been presuming Jaskier was unmarked entirely and wore the gloves for attention, but the longer he guards the little span of flesh the more Geralt thinks a tragedy must lie beneath the scraps of fabric.

Perhaps the person he shared his marks with had rejected him- though Geralt thought that unlikely given how firmly Jaskier had attached himself to Geralt's side despite him trying to outrun the bard for a year. Whoever shared his marks didn't stand a chance against Jaskier's persistence. Against his smile.

Perhaps the person he shared his marks with was already dead. Geralt didn't believe in the machinations of destiny or soulmarks, but that too twisted at him. Jaskier was a scoundrel, yes, but didn't deserve that so early in life. At the very least, it would explain why the bard wasn't concerned to muck with his fate by sharing his time with a witcher.

At the very least, he counts their time together as a blessing now, even if it's stolen from another.

Jaskier thinks it's finally time to come clean about his marks- their marks really. Not all marks are about just two people, he knows that, and Yennefer isn't the worst person to share a life with.

Honestly, he already does- Geralt's adverse to destiny but Yennefer would be sensible working out some kind of custody schedule if they didn't want to invite him in. He shares his life with Geralt, which is more than many soulmates get. He's not even sure he wants more of their lives shared, but the longer he keeps the marks hidden- the more the omission feels like a lie.

The more he knows he's lying to Geralt.

He figures it's an even shot Geralt that he'll never see him again or he'll be invited to winter at the Kaer.

It turns out he didn't even need the marks to drive Geralt away, being himself was enough.

"See you around Geralt."

A week after the dust settles and the Deathless Mother has been banished from their plane, Geralt notices Jaskier's gloves stretch from wrist to fingertip and when Jaskier is pulled into what is rapidly becoming Yennefer's lab, he can hear a sympathetic pained groan from Yennefer as Jaskier's fingers are rebroken.

Geralt knocked against the open door of Jaskier's room: Jaskier kicked another log into the fire-

Geralt should have thought of that.

"Come in," Jaskier said and settled back into the chair before his diary. Geralt saw a page with very few words and many drops of ink smeared across it.

Geralt took the poker and rearranged the wood of the fire to burn more evenly, "Yenn says you haven't been caring for your burns," he coaxed the fire into a more even burn and pressed it further back into the hearth.

There was a long silence, "I can't open the jar," Jaskier admitted.

"You know anyone here would help you, Jask-" he dragged a hand through his hair, had he really fucked it up that badly?

Jaskier's silence said what it needed to.

"I'm sorry I didn't make that clear, Jaskier," he said and saw Jaskier's gaze drop lower, to the page in front of him, "may I help you now?"

"I would like it if you opened the jar," Jaskier said, "I don't want to trouble you any further. And thank you for the fire-"

"It's not trouble, I should-" Geralt huffed a sigh, "I should have thought of it sooner. Thought of you sooner- please, let me help you."

Geralt could have heard a pin drop on the opposite side of Kaer Morhen as he waited for Jaskier to say something- anything.

He opened the jar of ointment and held on to it, even when Jaskier put a trembling hand out to grasp it, waiting for Jaskier to permit him to tend to the burns. Jaskier gave him a worn look.

Jaskier carefully took his gloves off- his fingers still wracked with the persistent tremors that made the single button at the wrists take an achingly long time to unfasten.

"The draughts help," Jaskier said softly, "but they will take time to subside."

They do not speak of the lute calluses that have started to thin and peel off entirely.

The gloves came off Jaskier's hand- revealing two palms and thumbs soiled by burns. There, amongst the gnarled scars, laid the burst remains of a sun and a moon.

Metz's treatise on the formation of the celestial spheres says the bursting of a sun creates a black hole: swallowing whole planets into its gravitational pull.

Geralt thought, perhaps, he should have considered his own marks when he wondered of Jaskier's for how often their hands touched.

"Don't-" Jaskier started, he took a deep breath and looked at the marks and not at Geralt, "please just the ointment, Geralt," he held out a hand again to take the pot from Geralt.

Geralt took the little pot of ointment, preciously carried in his saddlebags from Cidaris to Gulet to Kaer Morhen, and tugged off his own gloves as well. He carefully scooped out some of the ointment, the smell of dusk campion faint and familiar, and he warmed it between his palms.

He gently dragged his palms over Jaskier's before nimbly working the oil and medicine into his skin, taking care to rub into the creases between his fingers and the bumps of his remaining cuticles.

Yennefer says the draughts will help the nerves return and the ointment will smooth the burns.

Geralt was careful to be methodical and detached as he covered the marks with beeswax and the scent of campion. He cannot help but imagine the pain that forced Jaskier's sun and moon to bubble and split so wide; the layered burns that distort the comets into slashes of lightning.

He cannot help but wonder why Jaskier didn't leave him to rot.

He cannot help but wonder why soul marks are counted as a blessing when his sun and moon remain clear and smooth while Jaskier's have ruptured into glowing black holes. He must not be an expert, there must be a gap in his knowledge, for he'd once counted Jaskier's dismissal as a blessing.

"Easy there, Geralt," Jaskier said kindly, "there's no reason for all that."

Of course Jaskier could interpret the bite of Geralt's lip and the furrowing of his brow.

Geralt held Jaskier's hands between his own, their suns and moons nearly meeting where the burns didn't warp them, "I'd given up on seeing this," Jaskier said fondly, "our own little world in our hands." He traced Geralt's comet down to the bowl of the moon, "Thank you Geralt, you did a very good job."

"I'm sorry," Geralt managed, "I didn't know."

"I didn't really want you to, would you have received it well?" Jaskier said pointedly, then his voice softened, "it was bad enough I wormed my way beside you- this- Geralt,” he gently squeezed their hands, “This is more than I dreamed of.”

"You should want more," Geralt said, "You should ask for more. I'm sorry-"

"I've said the same of you," Jaskier laughed softly, a rare sound of late, "I've said the same of you many times. Perhaps we can work on this together."

#actual fic nothing in the world is mine but my love mine #geraskier #geralt/jaskier #the witch writes

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crowsoundsonly · 4 months

Text

rachel's "i'm on winter break and have time to write" sleepover !!

hi everyone !! i am so excited to actually have time to sit down and write without university looming over me like storm clouds. there won't be a lot of rules, just a lot of fics and fun.

a few things to know:

send requests !!

no limit on asks or prompts requested !! i'm taking requests through jan 31, 2024.

if you have an original idea, send it my way !! it doesn't have to be from the prompt list.

if you want to join, please do !! write something !! tag me !!

i don't write super explicit smut. but i will def write some light smut and kissing and whatnot if requested.

no dub/con, no incest, no ultra-kinky stuff. sorry guys.

people i write for...

bucky barnes

ben barnes characters (the darkling, billy russo, caspian)

loki

will graham (hannibal)

cillian murphy characters (thomas shelby, jonathan crane, robert fischer)

tangerine (bullet train)

bruce wayne

geralt of rivia (the witcher)

prompts:

plot:

1. touch starved 2. hurt/comfort 3. holding onto the other’s shoulders for support 4. putting a hand over the other’s mouth to shut them up 5. showing up at each other’s house late at night 6. washing the other’s body 7. kissing their bruises and scars 8. sitting close and knees touching 9. meeting the family 10. teaching the other to… 11. watching the other when they are in their element 12. comfort kisses, goodbye kisses, first kisses, etc. 13. oral fixation 14. hand fetish

quotes:

1. "You know you’re pretty much the worst. In the best way possible." 2. "You smell good." 3. "You said I love you too fast." 4. "You were not supposed to find out about it." 5. "How long has it been since someone touched you like this?" 6. "Even if you don’t feel the same… I just wanted to tell you." 7. "Can you stay with me?"/"Don't go. Please." 8. "I say I’m over it but I still imagine it’s his hands in my hair when I’m alone.” 9. "I'm anything you want me to be." 10. "How can you be so smart, yet so stupid?" 11. "You’re dead to me." 12. "I thought it was just a silly crush, but it turned into more. I’m sorry, I know you don’t feel the same about me." 13. "Why are you staring at me?" 14. "I never thought this would happen." 15. "I am a god." 16. "Where did you go?" 17. "You were in my dream last night." 18. "Please don’t look (at me)…" 19. "I know I should be happy with friendship. So is it wrong of me to not be satisfied?" 20. "Stop worrying." 21. "So you've fantasized about me?" 22. "Why are you unbuttoning your pants?" 23. "You're shivering."

au’s:

1. babysitter 2. soulmates 3. flower/coffee/book shop 4. time travel 5. neighbors 6. coworkers 7. teachers 8. royalty 9. historical 10. fairytale 11. wedding 12. fake dating

happy asking and happy holidays ! - rachel

my masterlist :)

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thefanbasewhore · 2 years

Note

Can you do something with geralt and his soulmate or something along those lines 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Return to you

summary: months ago after meeting your soulmate and him claiming he wants nothing to do with you; he returns to your home to win your love.

tw/cw: none, soulmate AU, angst

paring: geralt of rivia x female reader

Geralt huffs, frustrated and annoyed at the fact he had even come back to this back water, poor village in the first place.

Especially after swearing you'll never see him again due to having no desire at all to have a soulmate. That was fine by you, despite always knowing your soulmate was out there you never relied on anyone, and that means for anything too.

You have always been independent since a child, parents dying at a young age does that to a person. The home, the farm and the person you are now was entirely earned by the labor of your hands, no one could take that away.

Especially a stuck up snowy haired man who claims himself as a monster hunter. You heard of his kind before, witchers, mostly feared by the people in the nearest village you call home.

After realizing that you both are in fact soulmates the very drunk Witcher began to scowl and claim that he never wanted to find you. That was fine by you, seeing you have been alone for most of your life. The Witcher would only bring turmoil to your peaceful life.

But the thing about soulmates is the sacred bond that connects them. There is no greater pain than being separated from your soulmate, especially for an extended period of time.

The bond has its way of causing your chest to feel heavy, mind spin with what ifs and skin tingle for the feeling of their skin pressed to yours. Surprisingly, you have been able to surpress the urges to get up and leave with the sole mission of finding that Witcher.

Geralt on the other hand, feels as if he is suffocating. All he could think about was the soft blush on your cheeks that night, flush from the alcohol. Despite his very drunken and harsh words that night - he longs for you.

Which is rather weird, he thinks. Longing for a person you won't even know but to be fair, the universe did create you for him. His own perfect person wrapped up into such a tiny human being but wasn't everyone tiny next to Geralt?

The day he appears at the edge of your farm, silently stalking up behind you as you pull corn from the stocks is a bright one. Sunny and warm, the summer has just begun nearly weeks ago and all the plants are blooming to life.

He watches for longer than he would like to admit, memorizing the soft side profile of your face. Smooth edges and warmness of your skin, hair pulled back with a ribbon, green as the corn husks you pull on.

It's not soon after you realize you're not alone. The moment you notice him - bag thrown over his shoulder with a look of contempt across his features - like he doesn't want to admit defeat you laugh.

"My, my, my. I thought you never wanted to see me again?"

Geralt freezes, choosing his words wisely. "The bond doesn't let me choose what I want."

"Leave."

Geralt doesn't know what to say. He balls his fists at his side, wondering if you have been feeling the same as himself? It hurts to be this close to you and not touch you but just being this close feels a hell of a lot better being almost countries away.

"I can't just leave.." he tries to shake the disappointment he feels in his chest as he answers truthfully, "It hurts."

"You know what I find funny? Truly, the moment I meet my soulmate, who I have been waiting my whole life for, he denies me. Tells me he never wants to see me again." He doesn't like the way you avoid his eyes, "I finally accept that I'm never to have him and he shows up at my house months later. I don't need you, I have been alone and will continue to be alone."

"I am sorry. I was drunk and didn't know it would be like this." The bond wasn't activated before meeting you but now that it has been, there is no going back.

"It's been months. If you were sorry you would have come back the day after clear headed. You just want to be here to make yourself feel better. Leave my land."

What you don't expect is for the witcher to step towards you, legs stride until the tips of his boots meet your own. Suddenly you can't leave his eyes and he's staring just as intensely, those honey amber eyes are a warning on their own.

Before you realize what is happening the Witcher is leaning in, closer and closer until the tip of his nose nudges the thick column of your neck. He inhales, feeling content once his heart realizes exactly where he is - right where he should have been the whole time.

You're frozen, unable to move as you feel his lips move against your skin, "I am sorry. I was a fool, I should have showed up that night with a cart of flowers and begged on my knees for you to forgive me."

His other hand finds your hair, pads of his fingers ghosting around the back of your head before he pulls on the ribbon, releasing your hair and more of your scent. His nose continues to nudge your skin until it reaches the soft curve of your chin.

You hate to admit that you like him this close, blame it on the bond that makes it impossible to move but the moment you feel his lips pucker against your jaw, you push against his chest, creating distance between you and the Witcher.

"S-stop." He likes to see the way you shutter but doesn't bother to hear another word as he takes the basket of corn from your arms and begins his ascend to your cottage.

"Come now, sweet girl. I'll make dinner, we can get to know each other." The audacity of this man but your feet carry you towards him without a complaint.

Even though dinner is silent except for the few questions he asks and absolutely delicious you can't help but notice just how your body relaxes around him, your heart doesn't hurt - chest doesn't feel empty and when night falls and he finds you watching the fire and tucked under a blanket, he comes behind the chair and pats your head softly, a loving gesture.

"I will be back in the morning, I'll be here everyday until you forgive me."

As the door closes behind him you feel conflicted, maybe even a little happy that he has promised to return in the morning - but you won't openly admit that.

#geralt x reader #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x reader #the witcher imagine

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bendingwind · 4 months

Note

12, 23 for the ask game?

12. Favorite character to write about this year

Just by volume, Geralt of Rivia 😂 That said, I really enjoyed writing Mirrim as well, as I feel I have quite a bit in common with her. I also really enjoy writing Byakuya, he's fun AF to me.

23. fics you wanted to write but didn’t

Several things! I had a long Ichigo/Orihime Bleach fic that I outlined and really wanted to write but it just wouldn't quite click for me. There was also a really intense Hisagi/Kensei Bleach thing I wanted to write that I never quite figured out. I wanted to write a Geralt/Eskel soulmates/soulmarks Witcher story but never got around to it. I've been wanting to write Yennefer and Fiona (Dragon Age) character studies for years but they are such complex characters and it's so hard to do them justice. Also, part 23 of the An Art To Life's Distractions series is Geralt/Regis and it's the only part I haven't finished yet and I am very 😰😰😰 as I get closer to where that part needs to be posted. I just personally am not into Regis but I do ship it and that makes it hard to write hardcore explicit content, y'know!

ALSO I have a bunch of half-finished longfics that I'd have liked to finish this year. I have an AU from 2022 of my Dragon Age PC Trev (Eilona Trevelyan) where she meets Cullen in Kirkwall, they start a relationship only for him to discover her substance abuse issues and break it off and then she comes to help her sister, the Inquisitor, later. I don't expect to ever finish it, but in 2022 I also started a time-travel-to-kill-Solas AU for another Dragon Age PC (Ynés Lavellan) who haaaaates Solas' guts but ends up falling in love with him in the past and I would *like* to finish that. I wanted to continue the Witcher "wishing well" 'verse - the idea is that the villagers attack and Ciri and Jacen flee, and Ciri makes a portal that accidentally strands him a hundred years in the past, and events proceed from there.

As has been the case for years now, I'd also really like to write more about Keladry of Mindelan. I have this massive Miro board outlining like, seven fics detailing more than a decade of her life after Lady Knight, but I've never really gotten the inspiration to sit down and write them. I think in part because the romance in the series is very far down the line (I do absolutely buy ace Kel, but I refuse to believe that she's aro), and romance is my favorite thing to write. Additionally, I'm not that interested in the first story, so it's been hard to slog through that to get to the ones that interest me more. I can't skip it though because it has one of my favorite of her squires!

I have a goal to write 500 words a day this year, so maybe I'll knock out some of these WIPs in 2024!!

#z.ask

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geralt-of-vengerberg · 1 year

Text

List of fanfics

yennefer-of-rivia on AO3

Modern AUs

Somewhere along the way (Completed): Yennefer is a prosecutor, Geralt is a private detective. They meet on opposite sides, but their next cases might be even more life-changing than their first meeting. (AO3)

Plastic Cups (Completed): Senior college student Geralt finds himself at the Vengerberg Fertility Center for a donation after losing a bet against his brothers. Things do not go as he had expected. (AO3)

Knee Socks (Completed): College students Yennefer and Geralt agree to be friends with benefits, but sometimes you have a change of heart. And sometimes you don't realise what your heart wanted all along, until you can't have it anymore. (AO3)

Terms of Agreement (Completed): Contribution to the Witcher Winter Gift Exhange. Yennefer has always put her career first, but all of that might change when her friends introduce her to a new online dating app and she matches with White Wolf. Too bad he stands her up on their first date, but luckily for her, there's a familiar face working at the bar who saves the day/date. (AO3)

Dancing between darkness and dawn (Completed): Professor Geralt has a one night stand before the start of the semester and while he wishes he could see her again, he should've learnt by now that you always have to be careful what you wish for. (AO3)

the longing never bared, aches to be revealed (WIP): “Geralt, right?” she asks as they cross each other. He’s on his way back in while she seems to be heading out to the festival grounds. His stage name is different from his real one, so he assumes she must’ve either been briefed about the other artists by her agent or googled him herself to figure out his actual name. Either way, she still remembers it and it flatters him, but he tries to play it cool.

Or Geralt and Yennefer are musicians, cross paths and eventually match in an unlikely way. (AO3)

I'll take you to the moon and bring you back (Completed): He tries to apologise more than once, but she brushes him off. Going on about something like muscle memory and natural responses to erotic situations etc. and he doesn’t dare to tell her this wouldn’t have happened with just any co-star or actress. All of it happened because of her and the effect she has on him.(AO3)

Penne for your thoughts? (One-shot): When chef Yennefer of Vengerberg agrees to do an interview with a magazine because her restaurant was recently rewarded with its first Michelin Star, she didn't really know what to expect, but if she'd known the interviewer would've been such a sexist prick, she would've never gone through with this. Luckily for her the photographer makes it a bearable afternoon. (AO3)

(to) the manufacturer of my dreams (One-shot): Yennefer has had an awful day at work and she's in desperate need of some me-time. Having an intruder in her apartment isn't making it any better for her, or is it? (AO3)

Unfinished business: Series of snippets from my WIPs. (AO3)

'Canon' | Fix-it

My Dearest Friend and Enemy (WIP): On her way to Ellander, Yennefer decides to spend the night in Rinde. She meets more than one familiar face in the town that holds so much history for her and Geralt. Fix-it for episode 2x06, more or less. (AO3)

Flowers (One-shot): Post-Season 2. Yennefer, Ciri and Geralt have left Kaer Morhen. Geralt picks some wild flowers for Yennefer while they're taking a small break. (AO3)

Writing events

Yenralt Tropetember 2022

Day 1 - Domesticity: Laundry (Tumblr/AO3)

Day 2 - Bed sharing: Restless nights (Tumblr/AO3)

Day 3 + 4 - Everyone knows but them + Friends with benefits: Do I wanna know? (Tumblr/AO3)

Day 5 - Soulmates: Soup snakes (Tumblr/AO3)

Day 7 - Fake dating: Ultraviolet (Tumblr/AO3)

#list of fanfics #the witcher fanfiction #geralt x yennefer

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findyourrp · 7 months

Note

Hello, feel free to call me V, I go by any pronouns and I'm 18+ here looking for 18+ roleplayers for a The Witcher !!! roleplay. After reading a fanfic, 🤭 I really want to write bottom(in bed only) Geralt Of Rivia against Jaskier or an OC

Must be okay with nsfw and mature themes.

My style is lit to novella, not too strict when it comes to length from my partner, just give me something to work with.

Open to aus like omegaverse, soulmates, modern au, ect.

Prefer the roleplay to take place on discord but we can discuss it here or there up to you.

MxM, MxF (pegging?), etc is welcome :)

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ LIKE THIS AND I'LL MESSAGE YOU 🥀

#rp finder #18+ rp #fandom rp #fandom roleplay #the witcher rp #cc x cc rp #cc x oc rp #rp ad

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geraskierbrainrot · 2 years

Text

This is a collection of modern AUs where Geralt, Jaskier, or both do porn

Do No Harm by @grassylampshade | E | 3k

“Why are you here?” Geralt’s voice is unbelievably deep, a growl that resonates differently in person than it does through Jaskier’s tinny laptop speakers. Jaskier clears his throat and says, “I need your help.”

Jaskier wants to improve his stamina and Geralt is willing to lend him a hand.

Socially Acceptable Ways to Meet Your Soulmate by @elpiething | E | 4k

Jaskier's parents weren't precisely keen on their oldest Omega child going to Oxenfurt to learn art. So they told him to pay off his own student debt. Which means they can't technically get mad at him for going in for a camera test at Vengeance Studios. - An AU where Alphas can't knot without medical assistance. Or their soulmate.

(we should just kiss) like real people do by @thewalrus-said | E | 6k

Jaskier is a dime-a-dozen independent porn star with a party trick. The mononymous Geralt, owner and star of Rivia Studios, is one of the greats in the industry. So Jaskier is a little surprised when Geralt contacts his agent to set up a scene together. Surprised, but very, very willing. (A porn stars AU.)

your two tongue kisses by @krytella | E | 7k

It’s not like Jaskier would want to be in the scenes with Geralt. That’s all highly choreographed, completely stripped of romanticism. No, what Jaskier fantasizes about is ridiculously sappy by anyone’s standards: kissing him, wrapping their bodies around each other in shapes that don't angle to the camera, running fingers through his hair, touching him when he’s not hard, or not to keep him hard, just for pure pleasure. Or: Jaskier is a porn cameraman and Geralt is his favorite performer. Probably not the porn AU you were looking for.

I Can't Take My Eyes Off You by JustSimpleThings | E | 7k

Jaskier is a porn star who can't stop staring at the fit new camera man. The situation spells 'trouble'.

boogie nights by spqr | E | Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings | 8k

“This isn’t nothing.” His eyebrows draw together. “Jaskier. What happened?” Jaskier fists his hands in his own hair and contemplates pulling it out. “I got shot.” “Shot,” Geralt echoes, in a tone Jaskier’s never heard before. “Only a bit,” Jaskier hedges. “I took some vicodin, it’s perfectly fine. I can hardly feel it.”

Sweet by TheArtistFormerlyKnownAsG | E | 8k

Sugar and Spice Witcher Bingo Prompt: rough

They Were Roommates by Nowaki | E | 11k

Geralt finds Jaskier’s porn. A surprising amount of the videos are about him.

Geraskier OnlyFans AU series by @ghostlyfallows | 19k

→ The Tower of the Swallow | M | 2k

The man had a very handsome face. His face wasn’t exactly a problem - Jaskier was used to keeping his cool in front of many beautiful and handsome people. The problem was this wasn’t the first time he’d seen this face. More specifically, the problem was: the last time Jaskier had seen this face, it was when he’d confirmed the $11.99 purchase for a month’s subscription to his OnlyFans.

Geralt opened his mouth - that mouth jesus holy fucking christ on a stick - and Jaskier stuck his hand out for a hand shake.

“Julian Pankratz,” he introduced himself, praying to whatever god was listening that his face hadn’t turned an embarrassing shade of red.

Judging from the look on Yennefer’s face, he wasn’t so lucky.

Geralt nodded, not betraying even a hint of a smile. He shook his hand back and answered in a gruff voice, “Geralt.”

But of course, Jaskier already knew that.

→ Baptism of Fire | E | 5k

A continuation of my previous fic, in which Geralt is an OnlyFans creator and Jaskier is his (simp) twitter manager

→ Weak and Wanting | E | 7k

Not surprisingly, Geralt didn’t budge. “Jaskier, how much have you had to drink?” he demanded after Jaskier’s palms bounced off of his chest. “It’s not the alcohol! I’m serious! It's like you have no understanding of the stages to these kinds of things. I’ve seen you naked and talked you through fucking yourself but I haven’t even kissed you yet.” Jaskier clapped a hand over his mouth. “On second thought, I didn’t say that. Stop it, Geralt, why are you laughing?” The corners of his mouth still twitched, but he did his best to hide his mirth for Jaskier’s sake. “So, you do want to kiss me?” Geralt’s head tilted to the side. Despite his confident posture, he seemed...stiff. He had the nerve to look embarrassed. Jaskier clenched his hands into fists. “Are you hesitating?” Jaskier seethed. “You’ve been playing all these games, but you have the nerve to be shy about it? Let me repeat myself, since you want to act all coy: I’ve seen your cock. You called me while you were - while you were fingering yourself to ask me to help. Why the hell are you looking at me like that? Of course I want to kiss you.”

→ Give Me One Good Movie Kiss (give me one good honest kiss and I'll be alright) | E | 4k

"It was...different from any other job he’d taken. Certainly a step up from backbreaking labor for minimum wage. At least he was making tips. He’d never worked a job with tips before. Geralt clicked his cellphone into the tripod by his bed and stripped his t-shirt over his head. He tossed it, along with his jeans and boxer briefs, into his clothing hamper in the corner. Usually, his audience liked a show. He’s learned to tease, make them wait, instead of turning the camera on fully nude with his cock hard in his hand. He got all dressed up just to slowly peel the clothes away. It was an art form, he’d learned over the past few months. Nothing like the clumsy or cheesy fumbling he believed it to be when he first signed up for an account. It was more like dancing. He’d never been good at dancing, but he was good at sex, and that counted for something in this profession." AKA The Bottoming Video from Geralt's POV

Electric Kisses and Lace by SweetestHoney | E | 21k

What Jaskier expected from parent-teacher night was some demanding parents, some stupid questions, and maybe some gossip about a few of the couples. What he got, however, was Geralt, father to one of his students, letting him know that he knew about Jaskier's second job and threatening to tell the school that Jaskier was a gay porn star. How does Jaskier handle this little revelation? Anything but gracefully, of course. Or that one where Jask is on onlyfans and Geralt calls him out on it, leading to the worlds stupidest morons being dumb at each other for 20,000 words straight.

Show love to all these authors by leaving kudos and comments, and happy reading!

#geraskier #geralt/jaskier #the witcher #the witcher fic #geraskier fic recs

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magnaflourious-nerdity · 1 year

Note

🛒 ❌ 🤩🍦

I'm. So mad.

I just wrote so much in response to this. I was about to hit post. And then.....

So here's try number 2. Probably much shorter lol.

🛒- What kind of themes, imagery scenes offer or repeatedly appear in your work?

If its horror it usually psychological in nature or source and it usually has a water scene. A lot of unseen creeping.

I love a character who usually puts on a strong face bring forced to rely on others especially in a found family capacity.

Whump is a big part of that for me too.

I write a surprising amount of just like, slice of life cute daily scenes.

And I am a pretty big fan of the whole love-confession-as-I'm-injured-and-losing-conciousness-because-I-think-I'm-gonna-die-and-so-I-need-to-tell-you-how-much-i-truly-care-about-you-as-I-sacrifice-myself-so-that-you-may-live, sort of thing. It's always a crowd pleaser (it's me I'm the crowd of 1)

❌️ What tropes do you not like/hate to write

Controversial opinion maybe? I don't like to write Soulmate AUs. I only ever read them once in a while maybe if it's interesting on a conceptual level, like they change up the formula, but. ... I as a person don't believe in soul mates or destiny so very hard for me to get into. (But I appreciate the ppl who do write it. It's just not my thing.)

Also certain AUs mu writing just doesn't vibe with even though I do respect them as Aus. Like Mafia AUs or Serial Killer AUs. I don't think I could hack it, but I respect what u do.

🤩 What kind of characters do you like to write.

My favorite is "Bisexual Disaster, just trying their best, who is also just, some guy"

Examples may include, but are not limited to:

Phoenix Wright (or literally anyone from Ace Attorney Ever)

Barry Allen

Sokka Watertribe

Stede Bonnet

Stiles Stilinski

Xie Lian

Ranma Saotome

Lina Inverse

Anthony Janthony Crowley

Geralt of Rivia

And others that I can't think of bc im bad at thinking of thing when I need to.

I also love characters unhinged in their impulse control with a zest for life that borders on terrifying:

Maya Fey

Truly Wright

Merton J. Dingle

Ed "Blackbeard" Teach

Zuko Firebender

Klaus Hargreaves

Cecil Palmer

Aziraphael

It's a real grab bag!

🍦- What's the sweetest fic you've written?

Probably the one I wrote for you tbh, the GothicWolf Marriage? That was a really sappy one. I still like it tho: Pick a Four-Leaf Clover.

I need to write more and put it out rather than just keep banging away at snippets on random docs lol. Rip to the first response to this post. Thanks for the ask!

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annmarcus63 · 2 years

Text

Hey everyone! covid almost got me but I'm ok now. Here's the last part of my soulmates au.

Part one

Part two

Part three

@geraskier-thots

@lu123sworld

Here's some fluff. Enjoy!

He is sitting on the stone steps leading to the kitchen, overlooking the training grounds were Geralt and Lambert are sparring, Lambert is pretending to be some kind of monster and is winning, when Ciri approaches him with silent steps and ask, “Are you mad at Geralt?"

"What? No. Why do you ask?" he asks back despite of already knowing the answer

"You are not talking to each other" And then Jaskier quotes Geralt by saying "Hmm"

“So, are you?”

"No" says jaskier and after a small silence he adds "We just needed space"

After Geralt leave the room Jaskier didn't follow, didn't want to. He felt tired and worn out and knowing the witcher he would be too, perhaps more so due to his silent nature. It's been two entire days since the talk and they haven't spoken to each other, that's true. But it not as if they're ignoring each other or pretending nothing happened. Something happened, that's the issue and so far, neither of them have figure it out how to start again

But for now, it's ok. Jaskier was carrying the weight of an unwanted soulmark for over two decades and now his shoulders feel light. That doesn't mean it doesn't hurt anymore, it hurts, but it's not going to kill him anymore.

"We'll figure it out" Jaskier promises the princess, to himself and to Geralt.

The next morning Jaskier is eating a warm boar broth with a loaf of slightly stale bread when Geralt approaches him and reading the urgency on his face Jaskier stands until they're face to face. Everyone else are holding their breath. Geralt says in a small voice only for him to hear "I'm sorry" like a gift wrap on the witcher's quiet blame, followed by the most unexpected thing, Geralt bends forward to place his forehead on his shoulder and just stays there like a ragdoll. It takes a couple of seconds for Jaskier to react but when he does, he envelops the witcher in a big hug.

"It's ok" he reassures him.

He hears clapping from behind followed by a loud smack and Lambert yelling "Ouch!" He sees Yennefer over the witcher's shoulder, hiding a satisfying smile behind a cascade of her beautiful hair.

After that everything changes.

Staying at Kaer Morhen for the winter is a high-quality experience, the cold it's only a small inconvenience once you get used to it. There is always something to be done and the tasks are distributed equally to everyone, though hard work is usually done by one muscular witcher and sometimes Yennefer when she's around to use her chaos. Jaskier helps in the kitchen peeling potatoes and carrots and cleaning the place right after Eskel butchers a deer because he can't stand the smell. He also helps to repair some parts of the keep, small holes, or loose stones with a combination of mud and straw and the occasional supervision of Vesemir.

And everytime, everyday, Geralt comes to check on him with a pint of ale or a slice of bread, sometimes both. Jaskier concludes he likes the attention, but he'd never tells the witcher.

One night they're all sitting on the main yard in front of a big fireplace made by Eskel when Geralt sits next to him on a round log.

"Can I see it?" He asks with terrible uncertainty, afraid of scaring the bard. Jaskier gifts him a soft smile and then continues to roll up his sleeve to reveal a small sleeping white wolf on his forearm. Geralt takes his arm with a delicacy he has never seen on the witcher, to rub his thumb on the skin from the head to the tail.

And then the most unusual thing happens, Geralt holds his arm and brings it to his lips to place a chaste kiss. Jaskier is gasping and Geralt laughs "What was that for?" the bard asks in a pinch surprise voice.

"I don't know yet" says Geralt before standing up and going inside the keep.

It's easy to pinpoint the changes in their relationship after the kiss. He catches Geralt's eyes on him every time they're on the same room. There's something on his gaze that Jaskier can't quite name.

On a cold night he hears a knock on his door "Come in" he calls, to his surprise is Geralt holding a fluffy fur on his arms. Jaskier smiles and with a wave of his hand indicates the witcher to enter the room “Is that for me? Thank you, It’s cold in here” but Geralt stays there, at the door looking lost.

"Geralt?"

"Can I stay here" the witcher says and Jaskier struggles to stay calm, he wants to laugh to cry to run but instead he says "Of course, darling" and then he adds with a coquettish smile "Miss me much?" "Yes" says Geralt, the gall! And now Jaskier's room is their room, Geralt stays there every night. His clothes in the wardrobe, his armor on a mannequin in one corner of the room, his scent mix with Jaskier's in every surface. It's like to be on the road again.

They sleep curled up together, it's so easily to reach out for Geralt more so when is colder outside. And Geralt let it happen. Sometimes Geralt is the one who tucks him against his chest, sometime is Jaskier who tucks himself against the witcher's back.

Later he tries to apologize to Yennefer. Hey, your boyfriend is sleeping on my bed, but there's nothing sexual about it. Of course, he doesn't say that. Instead, he says "Hey, what's up with your boyfriend?" like a scared moron. Yennefer laughs, a big, pleased laugh so unlike her.

"I don't mind sharing" she says before slapping his ass and walking away towards her room. Jaskier squeaks like a child rather stunned "Yennefer! What the fuck? why does it feel like you’re talking about me? Yen? YEN?!" But she's already gone.

Jaskier is playing Gwent against Ciri, she's good but not enough to face the dragon hidden inside his sleeve. He cheats yes, but it's the only way he can win. When Geralt appears with two cloaks, one is for Ciri, Geralt helps her put it on while looking at her cards, he has a proud expression on his face making Jaskier realize he's going to lose, with or without the dragon.

"Jask, can we talk?" the witcher says, offering the other cloak to him.

"Of course, talk away" he's looking at his cards trying to decide his next move.

"Outside" Jaskier plays a Zoltan card but Ciri counters with a Yennefer card. The evil.

"Once we're done here" maybe it's time to use the dragon.

"Not even the dragon hidden in your sleeve will get you this match" Ciri's head snaps like a bolt and with an indignant tone she says

"You cheat!" Jaskier gasps like a drowning fish.

"That's not true my darling, I'll never do that to you"

"Show me your sleeve then"

"I'm afraid there's not time for that" says the cheating bastard while standing up and taking the cloak from Geralt hands "Dear Geralt here wants to talk" He's fooling no one much less when the famous dragon drops unceremoniously from his doublet to the floor. They step outside hearing a loud "I knew it" from Ciri.

The wind's blowing but at least the cloak guards him from the worst of it.

He was so caught up with the revelation of his cheating nature that's only now he notices the witcher stance, a little bit tense a little bit unsure.

"Uh...Geralt?" for a moment there is nothing but them, this is important, the bard can tell, suddenly he feels his chest contracting, the weight he had carried has found suddenly his shoulders again. Is this where Geralt tells him to fuck off?

"I wish..." Geralt is facing him that’s how Jaskier can read his face like an open book, he's nervous "I wish you'd have told me sooner"

identifying the confusion on the bard’s face Geralt adds "About the mark. But I also know that before I wouldn't have taken it kindly and for that I'm sorry"

"It's ok" says Jaskier seeing the white clouds coming from his mouth.

"Stop that! It's not ok" Geralt snaps but Jaskier now understand it's not at him but at himself. "I haven't been a good friend, companion, soulmate to you" Geralt closes the distance between them and with a careful movement he takes the bard's hand in his “but I want to be better if you let me.” Jaskier can feel himself blushing, he's no longer cold.

"W-what are you saying?"

"Let me make you as happy as you have made me" Jaskier squeals and tries to hide his face against his shoulder but Geralt stops him with a tug. He's a grown-up man by Melitele sake! he shouldn't be acting like a seduced teenage prince because he's not one and most certainly Geralt is not a charming prince. Oh, but he does looks like one but better.

"Geralt..." they're so close, Jaskier can smell the soap in the witcher skin, and Jaskier feels a rush of fondness, he has taken a bath for this, for him.

"I'm aware this may be too late. Tell me no and I'll not bring this up again" After so many years thinking himself defeated as to abandon this dream, the dream of having Geralt and now to have it literally on his hand is so surreal that there’s no other choice but to shed tears. Geralt is about to step away, afraid of having made a mistake but before he can do it Jaskier says "Yes. Yes please" Now Jaskier tugs at Geralt's hand to guide him to his lips. It takes a couple of seconds for the witcher to react but when he does, he kisses him like he's the most precious thing in the world. It's like they have done this since the beginning, something familiar, theirs to return to.

From above they hear a whistle, Jaskier wants to look up, but Geralt stops him with a hand on his cheek.

"Don't mind them" and starts to kiss him again.

After some minutes and a lot of kissing Jaskier says out of nowhere "I need to write a song"

"Don't you dare" but Jaskier is rushing inside "Jaskier! you little shit, come back here!" Jaskier is laughing and oddly Geralt's too.

END.

That's it folk. Thank you for been on this journey with me. This is my first happy ending, I think.

If I lived on the witcher universe I'd be like Geralt asking everyone if they want to play Gwent against me. If anyone here plays here's my id EidenGzZara

Love

Me.

#geraskeir #jaskier #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt #my soulmate au #i love happy endings #after some angst that is #geraskier #ciri #yennefer #geralt x jaskier x yennefer #Lambert ship it #In my story Eskel doesn't die #Eskel game supremacy

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yennskier-feed-ao3 · 2 years

Text

not shy

by simonaslytherin

A modern AU of Geralt, Jaskier and Yennefer in high school together. Could be interpreted as them having platonic or romantic relationships with each other. :)

Words: 1217, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi

Additional Tags: Headcanon, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Cuddling & Snuggling, Sleepy Cuddles, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Platonic Female/Male Relationships, Platonic Male/Male Relationships, Platonic Romance, Sad and Happy, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Not Canon Compliant, Soft Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, Affection, Friendship/Love, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romantic Fluff, Sad and Sweet

#the witcher #yenskier #yennskier #yennefer #jaskier #yennskier fic feed

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waiting4inspiration · 3 years

Text

In his Eyes (Geralt of Rivia One-Shot)

Summary: Every soulmate is born with the other's eye color. To be sure it's them, they dream of them on the night they meet. Being born with Witcher eyes doesn't make your life easy. It only means that you'll live in heartache and isolation for most of it if not all...

Warnings: soulmate au, strong language, angst, mentions of killing monsters, mentions of death, i only realized on the day on posting that there really isn't any fluff in this which means i'm back to naturally writing angst..., this is unchecked so please pardon any mistakes until I can check this

One-Shots Masterlist

You were pitied from the moment you were born, from the moment your eyes opened, before you even gave your first screams. You are supposed to share the eyes of your soulmate but you were born with the eyes of the cursed. A Witcher. Everyone knows the kind of life those monster slayers live, how they never live the same lifespan a normal person would live because of the dangerous Path they take.

You were frown upon everywhere you went, stared at by everyone, and barely made any friends. The children you did play with would quickly forget about you when their parents came into view. And the game that you were playing where you were pretending to be an actual Witcher would stop immediately.

The pretending to be a Witcher continued. You learned how to fight like one and when you became a woman, you started to travel to do the job that they were doing. Killing monsters.

Of course, word got out that there's a female Witcher wandering around. It attracted unwanted attention from some schools. But it was nothing you couldn't handle and soon your ruthlessness also got out. It made you being hired a whole lot easier.

And even though you've met a few Witchers on your travels, you've never dreamt about them after your meeting. They weren't your soulmate.

You just finished a job and even though you're injured, you just want to have a drink in the tavern. You don't think your injury is too bad anyway. You've experienced worse in the past.

At the noticeboard in front of the tavern, you notice someone stare down the various jobs pinned up there. From the white hair and the double swords strapped to his back, you can tell this is another Witcher to cross your path. You breathe out a loud sigh, not in the mood for any confrontation from him.

Maybe if you just slip past him quietly, he won't notice you and won't bother you.

That's easier said than done because of the mud covering the ground. When you slip slightly, you groan in pain at the pressure you have to put on your injured leg. And that draws the Witcher's attention to you.

"That looks like a nasty bite," he speaks, turning his body towards you as you stop in your tracks, keeping your head down so that he doesn't see your eyes. "What did that?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle myself," you snap, placing your hand over your wounded leg to stop him from staring more at it.

He shifts on his feet, lifting his eyes up to your face as he steps forward. "You didn't take on this monster by yourself, did you?" he asks.

You scoff, rolling your eyes to yourself as you stop yourself from looking up at him. "Like I said, it was nothing I couldn't handle," you mutter, moving to walk away from him.

His hand shoots out to stop you from walking away. He wants to tell you that you shouldn't be going out there and risking your life to kill some beast, that you seem like a nice girl, and that you could find someone to settle down with, that this isn't the life you should be chasing.

But your head snaps around to him, your eyes glaring coldly at him and revealing the golden eyes you had been born with. It makes him let go of your arm and you immediately recognize him from the stories you've heard being told. He's the Butcher of Blaviken. The White Wolf. Geralt of Rivia.

From the look on his face, you know he recognizes you from the stories going around about you. And just as he does, you raise your head up in confidence, not ashamed of those stories.

"You're that female Witcher everyone's talking about."

"And you're the White Wolf everyone's talking about." You fight back, taking a step away from him as you fold your arms over his chest. "Seems as though we're both as famous as the other."

Geralt grunts, his eyes staring into your, amazed at how strikingly similar in color they are to his. It's like he's staring at himself in the mirror. "But there's a difference between you and me. I'm a real Witcher," he states, keeping his stare as he takes a step forward, closer to you. He knows who you are. He knows that you were born with these eyes, not given them through a mutation from going through the Trials. You've been unfortunate in being given a Witcher soulmate.

You smirk at him, running your tongue over your lips as you lock eyes with him. "Well then, I'm sure I wouldn't mind some advice from a real Witcher."

"You want my advice," he starts, his voice low and gravelly, like he had been shouting a lot recently. He takes another step forward. "Stop pretending to be something you're not. It's dangerous."

You scoff. "What is? Pretending or actually doing what you and others like you are afraid of doing?"

"I didn't say I was afraid."

"No, but your eyes said it," you snap back just as quickly as he had.

You know why he's here. It's the same reason you came here. There's a terrifying monster in this village and has taken down a few Witchers in its lifetime. You have seen the notice on the board. But you felt you weren't ready to tackle it yet. You needed a warm-up and the Drowner contract seemed to be the best option.

Geralt hadn't taken the mighty beast's contract either, most likely feeling the same way you had felt when you had seen it. And you've learned how to read a person's emotions from their eyes. Even though people say that a Witcher's eyes are emotionless, you could see everything in Geralt's eyes. It was like you were looking at your own eyes.

"I've lived my entire life being judged because I was born with Witcher eyes," you start to say, stepping closer to him so you can drop your voice, preventing any unwanted ears from listening to your conversation. "I might as well do what your kind do to spare myself the humiliation and the taunting. It's easier pretending to be a Witcher than being called cursed because Fate decided to give me a Witcher soulmate."

Geralt shifts on his feet, still keeping his eyes on yours. It's like the longer he stares into your eyes, the harder it is to look away. He's never had this feeling before or been in this situation before. He wonders if you happen to be his soulmate, but quickly pushes that thought aside. There's no way Fate would give him a soulmate and a Child of Surprise. "You say that now. But when you come across a best you can't defeat you'll wish you had never taken this Path," he mentions, making you laugh at his words.

You shake your head, your arms dropping to your sides as you shift on your feet again, trying to keep as much pressure off your injured leg a possible as you try to hide the fact that it's painful to stand. "You say that like you know me. You don't know a damn thing about me or the beasts and monsters I've faced before. I've come farther than you could ever imagine," you sternly say, narrowing your eyes at him, unable to look away from him.

"Did you know that I am the only one to have been born with Witcher eyes that made it past childhood?" you question, resting a hand on the hilt of your sword.

You don't have the luxury of having both a silver and steel sword. Only having a silver one you were given by a Witcher who had been like a mentor to you, you felt that it would do as much damage to humans as it does to monsters.

"I've checked records of every town, village, and city I've visited, wanting to know if there were any other people like me," you explain, your eyes flickering away briefly when a person passes a bit too closely. "But they were killed before they even hit puberty because they started showing powers you Witchers have." You look back at Geralt. "Not the signs you know, but the fighting strength. I thought it was just because I came from a family of fighters, that it was in my blood. I'm lucky to be where I am now and I will never regret taking the Path."

Your upper lip sneers slightly as you speak, showing that you care very much about the situation you're talking about. Like you're passionate about it all. Passionate about trying to find someone else that was born with a Witcher soulmate.

Geralt tilts his head to the side, his eyes falling to the sword at your side before looking up to you again. He almost expects to see a medallion around your neck. "And if you happen to find your soulmate?" he questions, his voice sounding softer than before.

Staring at him for a moment, you think about it for a moment even though you had been thinking about it basically the entire time you've been on the road, living a Witcher's life. "I don't believe Fate is kind enough for that meeting to be a pleasant one. And knowing Witchers, they'll probably leave me alone the first chance they get."

Only your mentor had stayed around longer than one day. You've learned that Witcher's isolate themselves, that it's just the way they are and there's nothing you can really do about that. You're not a Witcher so you don't feel like that. You do enjoy some company. That is if you can ever find someone that stays around longer.

"You don't know that."

"Don't I?" you chirp up, raising an eyebrow at him as you tilt your head the same way he had. "What makes you so determined to tell me I'm wrong?" you ask, folding your arms over your chest again. "Go on. Tell me, Geralt of Rivia," you tease, smiling up at him with a playful smirk.

Geralt sighs as he blinks, rolling his eyes briefly as he licks his lips. "It's believed that Witchers have their soulmates torn out of their being when they go through the trials, making them destined to be alone. I think, given the chance, some Witchers would like to have the reassurance that they'll have someone beside them every day for the rest of their lives. Someone that will love and accept them for who and what they are."

You're surprised at his words, at the soothing tone in his voice, and the longing look in his eyes. He looks over your shoulder, zoning out as he speaks, lost in thought.

There's a kind of sparkle in his eyes as he speaks about soulmates. The kind that makes your heart skip a beat and almost yearn for him to carry on talking. It's weird that you're feeling this way.

"Are you speaking from experience?" you question, your voice becoming softer too when his eyes land back on your face.

"No. Just from other Witchers I've met before," he states, turning to the side and walking away from you.

But you're not going to let this conversation just end like that. "And if you were given the chance, would you stay with your soulmate?" you ask, following him and hissing to yourself as the pain shoots through your injured leg.

"I don't have a soulmate."

"How can you be sure about that?" you ask again, feeling like a child now as you ask question after question. You're sure he must feel irritated about that.

"I just am," he bluntly says, carrying on to walk away from you.

"Then I'm just sure mine won't stick around when he finds me," you say, raising your voice as you quickly move in front of him to stop him from getting away from you. "I'm willing to bet on it too. If I'm right, you owe me 100 orens. If I'm wrong, I'll owe you the same amount," you taunt, smiling at him as you hold your hand out in front of you to make a deal with him.

He just sighs, grunts to himself, and then steps around you to walk away again. "What? Are you scared that I'll be right?" you shout after him, smiling at the fact that you might be right.

"I don't gamble on silly bets," he says over his shoulder to you.

Your leg aches too much for you to follow him any farther and you stop. Smiling to yourself, you watch him walk away and shake your head. "Pussy," you whisper to yourself, thinking to yourself that you were right.

You were right about all Witcher's never staying for long.

That night was weird for you. You're used to dreaming strange, vivid dreams sometimes, but you've never had one that makes you wake in a cold sweat and your heart beating wildly. You thought it had just been the thunderstorm outside that had woken you, but when you rest a hand over your chest, it feels as if it's going to tear through your chest.

Running your hand through your hair, you feel as if you need a drink but you know that the bar will be closed. You push yourself off the bed, your feet hitting the cold wooden floor as you take in a deep breath. Closing your eyes, you try to recall the dream you had. And the prominent face you saw.

You know it's your soulmate. You know because everyone dreams about them the night after the first meeting. It's a way that you can be sure it's them even if your eyes match identically. You just never thought it would be him.

You never thought it would be Geralt.

But your dreams about your soulmate always shows you what's happening to them or what they're doing or about to do. And in your dream, you saw him riding away from you, not looking back as you call out his name. You know that will happen the next time you see him. The next time you see him will be when he walks away from you.

And your racing heart breaks as the realization that you were right about your soulmate not sticking around after he finds you.

#geralt #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia #geralt one shot #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia one shot #the witcher #witcher one shots #soulmate au #the witcher netflix

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