#jaskier's early adventures with either of them are just a series of adventures

[king-finnigan]

wingless thing

this is a oneshot that i was planning on turning into a full series at some point, but i never really had any ideas for the main storyline. so here it is, now; it’s an AU where everyone on the continent is born with wings. the only people who don’t have them are witchers.

Geralt sighs as he looks up at the tavern, built into the side of the mountain. There is no path up, no way to get there other than flying. Which wouldn’t be an issue for anyone else.

But unfortunately, Geralt isn’t anyone else.

He lets out an annoyed huff and Roach bristles softly, pushing at his shoulder with her nose. He pats the side of her neck, tangling his fingers through her brown mane. “Sorry, girl,” he mutters. “Gonna have to sleep outside again tonight.”

He doesn’t really know what he expected. Posada is full of mountains, of course people are going to build as high up as they can to get away from the creatures and monsters on the ground. Still, he’d been looking forward to a proper meal and a soft bed for the night, but it looks like he’ll have to make do with his bedroll and some dried meat. He always does.

He takes the saddle and reigns off of Roach and starts setting up camp – laying down his bedroll, gathering wood for a fire, checking his dwindling supplies. He counts his coin, finds out he’s still low on it and gold hasn’t magically appeared in his pouch since he looked this morning.

It’s the reason why he came here in the first place. Usually, he doesn’t venture this close to the mountains – the buildings always high up and only accessible from the air – but there haven’t been a lot of monsters in the plains and forests lately, so he had no other choice but to head east.

He looks up as he hears wings flapping, watches with a barely-hidden scowl when a young man descends from the air, softly lowering himself on one of the branches of a tree at the edge of the clearing. His feathers are a light shade of brown, almost golden in the late afternoon light, interspersed by darker ones painting long stripes across his wings. The young man cocks his head, keen, blue eyes taking in the sight of Geralt sitting on the ground, wingless.

“What are you doing down here?”

Geralt rolls his eyes, his already thin patience running out quickly. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“Setting up camp.” Apparently this young man either doesn’t know what a rhetorical question is, or he’s unable to pick up on them. “But why down here?”

Geralt glares at him, narrowing his eyes at those golden-brown wings. The young man merely raises his eyebrows, waiting for an answer. Geralt sighs. “I can’t get up there.”

“Up where? The inn?” Geralt nods, and the stranger finally seems to get it, his eyes flicking to where Geralt’s wings should be, his mouth falling open in a soft ‘O’. He appears to figure out a lot of things in the next few seconds, his face going from confusion to realization back to confusion numerous times.

Geralt sighs, lighting the fire with a quick Igni, the blissful quiet stretching out between them.

“You’re the Witcher,” the young man says eventually. “Geralt of Rivia, the Butcher of Blaviken.” Geralt resists the urge to growl at the mention of that cursed town, his mind unhelpfully providing him with the memories of Renfri, of her blood coating his hands, of Stregobor cutting off her grey-and-white wings while the entire town chased Geralt away. He shakes his head to rid himself of the images.

Finally, the young man comes down from the tree, the tips of his wings dragging in the dirt behind him as he walks towards Geralt, extending his hand. Geralt doesn’t take it and looks away. Eventually, the young man gives up and sits down on the other side of the fire, big, blue eyes taking Geralt in, his brown feathers trembling slightly in excitement.

“I’m Jaskier, by the way.” Geralt doesn’t respond, but the young man continues regardless. “You know, I’m a bard. My lute is still up at the inn-“ he jabs his thumb up at the side of the mountain “-so you’ll just have to take my word for it, but it seems to me that you’ve got a bit of an image problem, Witcher. You know, I could be your barker-“

“No.”

“-spreading the tales of- of… Geralt of Rivia, the…” He seems to think for a few seconds, chin in his hand. “The White Wolf!” he finally exclaims, spreading his wings and arms dramatically, nearly knocking into Roach, who bristles angrily, taking a few steps away from the annoying and expressive bard.

Geralt looks at Jaskier for a few moments. “The White Wolf?” he eventually asks, voice flat.

Jaskier nods excitedly. “Yes! Because your hair is white and you don’t have any wings! I saw you pacing around here before I arrived, and I thought to myself ‘wow, this guy looks just like a wolf stalking its prey’, so there you have it! White Wolf! Do you like it?”

“No. Go away.” What the fuck does he need a barker for? He’s perfectly fine on his own. He’s managed seventy years alone on the path without wings, and he’ll manage a thousand more, thank you very much. Now all he needs is for this guy to fuck off and let him be so he can get some much-needed sleep. He’ll set out early again tomorrow.

Jaskier pouts a bit but gets up, luckily. “Alright, aright. I’ll leave you to it, then. Bye, Geralt.”

“Hmm. Bye.” He doesn’t look up from the fire, sees the flames dance in front of him as Jaskier flaps his wings and starts running, eventually taking off, up and up into the sky, towards the inn built into the mountainside. Once the sound of wings flapping has faded away, Geralt lets himself relax and eats a meagre meal of dried meat and a crust of stale bread. He falls into a restless sleep after that, his dreams plagued by black and white wings, speckled with blood.

---

He sets out early the next day, towards Dol Blathanna. A goat farmer had approached him in the morning, offering a hundred coins for a demon that kept stealing his goats. Geralt highly doubts that it’s a demon, but a job’s a job, and no matter how little money a hundred coins is, it’s better than nothing.

He saddles Roach and heads to the east. Before long though, he hears the sound of wings, someone flying towards him.

“Geralt! Hi!” Jaskier lands next to him, using his momentum to fall into step next to Geralt, Roach too slow and the branches too low to keep flying. He’s a bit out of breath, but his entire face is lit up with a smile that easily rivals the morning sun. There’s a lute hanging against his hip, Geralt notices.

“So, what are we hunting?”

Geralt scoffs. “We aren’t hunting anything. Fuck off.”

Jaskier pouts. “You know, you should really work on your people skills. I bet you’d get more contracts, then, though of course my songs will help. I mean, I’m almost getting the impression that you want me to leave!”

Geralt throws him an apprehensive look. “I do want you to leave. Go away.”

Jaskier huffs, his feathers puffing up slightly in annoyance. “No! No, you need my help, Geralt of Rivia. Unless, of course, you want to be forever known as the Butcher of Blaviken and a wingless monster.”

Geralt scoffs. “I am.”

“What? The Butcher of Blaviken or a wingless monster?”

“Both.”

Jaskier gasps, hand dramatically laying over his chest, wings stretching out, the tips bending forward a bit in shock. “You are most certainly not!”

“Well, I’m not a white wolf, either.”

Jaskier laughs softly, his wings folding behind his back again. “I assure you that you are. Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf. Has a nice ring to it, don’t you agree?”

Geralt rolls his eyes, but feels something soft unfurl in his chest. “Hmm.”

The bard grins. “So you do agree! Of course you do. I’m right, after all.”

It continues on like that for a while, Jaskier chatting on and on, his wings almost equally as expressive as his hands, and he almost slaps an increasingly disgruntled Roach with them several times. Meanwhile, Geralt keeps quiet, only giving monosyllabic answers from time to time, keeping an eye out for this so-called ‘demon’. Eventually, he dismounts Roach, leaving her behind at one of the only trees visible in the plain of yellowed grass, the rich mountains no more than a silhouette behind his back. He continues on foot, Jaskier following closely behind, still chattering.

“Sorry, what are we looking for again?”

“Blessed silence.”

“… Yeah, don’t really go in for that.”

Something rustles in the grass, and Geralt barely has time to turn around before something hits Jaskier square between the eyes. The bard collapses onto the ground, and the witcher walks towards him, finds a small, metal ball on the ground. He looks up when he hears footsteps, registers the dark silhouette of a person against the bright sunlight, and is promptly struck against the back of the head, his vision fading to black rather abruptly and violently.

---

He wakes up in a cave, hands bound by his side, something soft and firm and trembling pressed to his back. He frowns, confused, until he moves his head a bit and feels feathers tickling against his cheeks, the wings behind him puffed up in fear – except they aren’t his wings. Of course they’re not; he lost his a long time ago.

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” Jaskier says behind him.

Geralt grunts, starts struggling against the ropes that bind his wrists by his side.

“This is the part where we escape!” Jaskier exclaims, wings fluttering a bit in excitement, as if this is all just some big adventure.

“This is the part where they kill us,” he growls, still struggling against the bonds.

“Who’s they?” Jaskier’s wings contract in pain against Geralt’s back when a she-elf kicks the bard in the stomach.

Everything is a bit of a blur after that, getting his and the bard’s life threatened by the elves – easily identified as elves by their iridescent dragonfly wings – Jaskier’s lute getting destroyed, the elven king talking about the atrocities committed against them, and eventually letting the bard and the witcher go, even giving Jaskier a new, elven lute, the wood as shimmery and iridescent as their wings.

And before long, they’re headed back to Posada. Jaskier walks in front of him, strumming his new lute, singing a song of which only three words are true, give or take, his wings puffed up to let the soft breeze ruffle through the feathers.

Back in Posada, Jaskier offers Geralt to carry him up to the inn, which he resolutely refuses. There is a certain shame in having to stay on the ground while everyone else flies past, his differences pointedly underlined by his obvious lack of wings, but there’s something else entirely revolting about having to be carried up by a scrawny, little bard.

But instead of going back up to the inn alone, Jaskier stays on the ground with Geralt, practically stealing the Witcher’s spare bedroll.

“So,” Jaskier says, gently plucking away at the strings of his new lute. “What’s the deal with-“ he gestures at Geralt “-you know.”

He rolls his eyes. He’d much rather go to sleep right now than listen to the bard make redundant statements and ask vague questions. “No, I don’t know.”

Jaskier seems to hesitate, biting his bottom lip gently. “The wings,” he eventually half-whispers, as if it’s something Geralt’s sensitive about. Which he is, but he’d never show anyone that. “Where are they?”

“None of your business.” The light of the flames burns his eyes as he stares into the fire, and for a moment, he could swear he sees black and white feathers between the logs. For a moment, he’s still a boy at Kaer Morhen, looking on helplessly as they burn part of him, the barely-healed wounds in his back a constant, agonizing reminder of what he’s lost.

“Hmm,” Jaskier hums, plucking a few notes on his lute. “I suppose not. But there are rumours, you know? Like that you have to eat your own wings to become a Witcher.”

“That’s disgusting.”

Jaskier scrunches his nose. “Yeah, figured that one wasn’t real. Also heard a rumour that it’s what gives you your magic-“

“We don’t have magic.”

“-but my nan’s friend’s uncle’s brother’s teacher lost one wing during the war, and he didn’t get any magic powers, so I suppose that one’s a lie as well. I also heard a rumour-“

“Go to sleep, bard.”

Jaskier pouts at him for a second but Geralt doesn’t acknowledge it. Instead, he lies down on his bedroll, turning his back to the bard.

After a few seconds, he hears the faint rustling of clothes, the quiet thud of the elven lute being placed into the old, worn case, the clicking of locks being closed. He waits, watching the light of the fire dance across the trees around them, as Jaskier’s breathing grows slower and deeper.

Only when he’s sure that the bard’s asleep, does he let himself relax slightly, wincing when he shifts- the motion pulling at scars he can never truly forget. No matter how many nights have passed since that day so many decades ago, the ache in his back never fades.

He slips into a restless sleep.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfic #wings au #geralt of rivia #jaskier #if anyone wants to know #jaskier's wings are that of a tawny owl #renfri's are a shrike's #and geralt's used to be a downy woodpecker's #anyways i never really knew what to do with this au past this point so #guess this is where it ends lmao #if you wanna use it that's fine by me as long as you tag me so i can see lmao #title ofc from TAD

[moonlights-inkwell]

Oh, Can’t You Hear The Scratching?

Jaskier x Reader

Word Count: 4747

Summary: A serious injury leads to you being forced to leave your travelling days behind you and try to reintergrate yourself into a life you left behind. But it seems something from travelling has decided not to leave you

A/N: So. Um. This was meant to be some post Mountain smut, but turned into some semi-angst and is probably gonna turn into a series (and kinda (?) a companion piece to my Oxenfurt Series) where Jaskier and the Reader just sorta embrace some domestic bliss. So yeah. Title taken from That Unwanted Animal.

The first chill of Autumn is enough to wake you from a dead slumber. The cold nips at the tip of your nose, leaving it almost painful and chaffed, and you curse internally at the windows of your small home, which lately has done little to keep out either rain or cold. Pushing yourself up from the warmth of your fur-lined bed, you sit up and wince when the chill hits your chest, causing you to heave out a sigh as if you had been punched, blinking bleary-eyed before turning to gaze out of your window. It’s still dark, but no longer pitch. The sky is the colour of the violets that grow along the path that leads to your cottage but paling slowly, no sight of sun or moon, cloud or stars. Soon the horizon will be warmed by the orange glow of the sun, but right now you find yourself in this blissful timelessness, caught between dusk and dawn, sleep and awake. Moments like this feel rare, special, and you dedicate them to memory, to remind yourself of the mundane beauty of the world when you feel lonely and upset. These moments are wonderful, and your lips turn up in a tired smile. 

Sleep is trying desperately to overtake you once more, begging you sweetly to rest as long as humanly possible- after hard nights working in the tavern, you deserve rest and respite, but you fight against it. Swinging your legs out of bed and standing up, you groan in annoyance.  

“Melitele’s tits.” You curse, slurring with sleep. Padding barefoot to the window, you lean against the wall and rub your eyes, toying with the thin fabric that hangs to the side of the windows. It’s much too early in the day, and much too early for you to be feeling this way. This feeling only normally comes with Winter but reminds you all too much of the day you met Jaskier. It was as if fate had insisted you to be ready for him. Your heart sinks at the thought of him.  

You left the Witcher and your Bard behind in the spring. It wasn’t an easy choice, or even really a choice that you made, but it was the only one that was given to you. It came as a result of fighting a Wyvern. You hate Wyverns, always have and always will, but the fight against this one had cemented that in your mind, seeing as it sunk its claws into the left side of your face, and nearly blinded you. You didn’t even really know what damage it had caused until you sunk, faint, to your knees and Jaskier screeched in horror at the sight of you. I'm not that ugly, am I? You thought to yourself and chuckled slightly before falling unconscious.  

You woke in a healer’s tent, barely able to comprehend spoken language as the medic told Geralt you were lucky to be alive, never mind retaining the vision in both eyes.  Something in the back of your mind told you that you should be in pain, excruciating pain, but you can’t feel a thing. Your face would likely keep the marks of the beast forever though, he told the Witcher, voice as emotionless as possible. The hand holding your own tightens its grip. Jaskier. You smiled and cracked open the uninjured eye, but the smile faded at the sight of his red, tearstained face. He looked like he had been sobbing, and he probably had. He fretted about you when you got splinters, so the idea that you could have died was too much for him. He glanced down at you, and upon seeing your open eyes cupped your face gently and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead. It’s like no kiss he’d given before, it’s full of something you haven’t felt from him, sadness. Regret. It feels like goodbye. When he pulls back his lips and chin are stained with your blood.  

“I’ll find you in winter.” He muttered and your eyes narrowed in confusion. Tears overtook him once more, and he dragged you into his lap to sob onto your bloodied blouse- he'd never been squeamish about blood before, but in that moment, it was as if he was trying to get as much of your blood on him as possible, to mar and mark himself with proof that he was yours. Your fingers threaded through his hair, but whatever the Healer had given you meant that you couldn’t feel the softness of the chestnut locks, smell the musk and lavender scent that you know permeates from him over the coppery blood. It's hollow. You can’t feel him at all and would have taken the agonising pain of the wound if it meant that you could feel the touch of his skin on yours.

“Till winter.”

It was goodbye. At least for the time being.

Geralt took you home on Roach the next day, and insisted you remain. Retune yourself back to the life in your village, rather than a life that will kill you at any and every turn. He said it so firmly you couldn’t force out an argument, and so you’ve remained since that day; remaining in the old home you resided in just outside of the village, returning to your job in the tavern, and trying in vain to pretend that you aren’t in pain, not spending your days missing your bard, counting down until the seasons change and Geralt will return to Kaer Morhen and you can feel a dandelion on your skin once more.  

Absent-mindedly, you drag the tips of your fingers over the fading scar over your eye, it’s no longer garishly red and surrounded by mottled green, yellow and blueing bruised skin, instead almost white, with a strange shining quality about it. You don’t hate it, but you hate what it represents. Weakness. You found scars wonderful as a child, proof of how adventures had marked you, even on the road with Geralt it had been something of note, proof of how no monster had felled you yet. This one has felled you, left you more than just marked. It’s a conversation starter with patrons at the pub though, it sees you regaling people with your tales of traveling with a Witcher, and sees the pockets of your pinny grow heavy with coin as the nights draw to days, but the song starts up and you feel your throat begin to swell closed, lips suddenly wordless and eyes swelling with tears. Toss a Coin to Your Witcher is capable of reducing you to tears, your Dandelion would be proud were it under different circumstances. You miss him like a lost limb. After so long around him, always touching, always grinning, always talking, the absence makes you uncomfortable, especially at night.

Jaskier had always been there at night, oh what the luxury of your travelling partner being your lover had been during nights on the road. The sound of him singing in the darkness, illuminated only by the firelight and framed by the canopy of the trees, as if on a stage and performing for an audience of only you, how it felt when he dragged you, often kicking and squealing in laughter, towards your shared bedroll. While you are glad of a permanent bed, you miss sleeping beside him. It feels childish to admit that you find it hard to sleep without him, even if you are only admitting to yourself, but it is difficult without him; you miss the feeling of his arms around your waist, head between your shoulders and breath fanning against your skin, lulling you to sleep. Not only that, but you miss the sweetness that comes before sleep, tiredly resting on his chest and listening to him talk- usually utter nonsense you care little for, but enamoured by his passion and way of speaking- or singing, ringed fingers burying themselves in your hair while your fingers thread through the Shag Rug of chest hair.  

The shadow that passes by the window doesn’t catch your eye, distracted too much by memory, and you turn tiredly back toward bed but stop. Bed will do nothing but remind you of the chill behind you, lack of arms about your waist and head resting in the hollow between your shoulder blades. That won’t do. Instead, you find yourself padding to the small room that keeps the hearth, lip trapped between gnawing teeth as you begin a search for a means to light the fire and warm yourself a serving of last night’s stew but stop. Scratching. Scratching. Something is scratching at the front door. That’s not normal. All your life there has never been scratching at the door, even in spite of its close proximity to the woods no creature normally drags their claws along the wood, save for once, when a wolf had found itself lost and confused, but even that had been a pup. Just Imagining things, you try in vain to convince yourself, hand falling onto the matches and drawing a sigh of relief from you. It takes a second or so for your hands to stop shaking, but when the scratching dies you manage to strike a match and start a fire beneath the hanging pot of stew. Warmth, at long last, and light too.  

You sit on the floor to warm yourself in front of the hearth, humming softly along with the phantom of a song you hear in your dreams. It’s not one you know too well, you don’t even know if the song has lyrics, but it's one of Jaskier's and that means it’s your favourite. Tears that threaten to fall blur your vision and in the glowing flames you almost swear you can see him, sat across from you.  

It’s familiar, hauntingly so. You can all but feel the hard stone beneath your feet turn to prickly, drying grass, your sleep shirt turning to almost threadbare chemise and trousers. You can even feel the bruising ribs from an especially rough incident with a werewolf that saw the Witcher walking to a nearby village for food to help you feel better. The flames in front of you ripple and roar, causing the wood to pop and crackle, and with each noise you jump slightly and flinch in pain. Jaskier sits across from you, staring at you intensely and strumming at his lute. He’s beautiful in the light of the fire, lashes dark and his eyes focused, taking in every flinch and jostle.

“Try not to move so, Little Miss. You'll only hurt yourself. Well. Hurt yourself more.” He's trying to sound unaffected, but the intensity of his gaze betrays him. You worried him; a skill you’ve been honing in your time with Geralt and him, and you know how he worries. He's more of a mother-hen than a fighter in the first place, flapping about and acting as if you’re some delicate flower in polite society rather than someone who enjoys being combative, but combined with your human fragility? He frets. Overwhelmingly so. His eyes, the colour of the sea after a storm, moves from your eyes to where he knows your injury to be and then back to your eyes once more. You can’t quite meet his eyes, distracting yourself by looking over the intricate ivory embroidery that decorates his doublet.

You hate worrying him. He’s been so kind to you, always so giving: making sure you have enough stew to eat, warm enough when autumn comes about, threatening any man who looks at you with anything less than respect. He knows how you revel in fighting, but each and every injury you get sees the bard fretting even more so than normal. Though you can't meet his gaze you can feel his eyes on you, and hear the soft melody he's plucking, which makes you shift on the spot, letting out a pained moan as you do. Focused on the searing pain in your ribs, you don’t quite hear the bard gasp out your name and rush to your side, only knowing he's even there when you feel a warm palm rest on your thigh and turn to see him on his knees in front of you.  

“Fucking hell, Little Miss, are you alright? Do you need something? Shit... I- I can try and fetch Geralt, he won’t be too far-" The brunet rambles, eyes wide and grip on your thigh tightening, which serves to make your breath hitch- but not from the pain. Jaskier is always touching you, you’re quite certain he was not given sufficient human contact as a child, but never has he touched somewhere as... intimate as your thigh. The heat of his hand seeps through your trousers, and goes straight to your core and face- cheeks bright pink. He's still rambling, you realise, and reach out gently to cup his cheek, silencing him immediately. Stubble you can’t see on his boyish face prickles your palm, and you meet his eyes once more, noticing how wide the pitch of his eyes had grown.  

“I’m fine, Dandelion. Truly. Just moved too fast... bruises, and such.” You laugh weakly, tilting your head. “It will pass. Just need to distract myself.”  

He laughs with you, hand squeezing the meat of your thigh and so close you can feel his breath fanning against your skin.

“I can distract you if you like?” He offers, voice lower than normal. You smile in return and nod, expecting a song or joke but what you get instead is his lips pressed against yours. Warm, wind chapped, perfect-

A log pops and you come from your memory, blinking and sniffing as the smell of the soup makes you smile. It’s not much, but it’s enough. Before you can reach up for a spoon to mix it, you hear it again. The scratching. It's back, and worrying. You miss Geralt, not for the first time that night, missing how his acute hearing would be able to tell you if it was an animal or human- specifically if it was a wolf as you suspected. Scratching, scratching and scratching. It worries you, but not enough for you to become fearful; instead making you smirk, eyes narrowing into dangerous slits and shifting towards the sword you've kept beside the door. Less than a second later you dart toward the door, and grip the cold hilt of the blade in one hand, body pressed against the wall beside the door. The scratching stops when you move which only makes you hold your breath, eyes slipping shut as you try to relax once more. Calm doesn’t come, and instead you heave out a sigh and call out,  

“...Hello? Kacsper? Is that you?” It wouldn’t be the first time your employer had come by in the night to ensure a young woman alone would be safe at night, which you thought to be immensely invasive but, in this moment, you cannot stop yourself from hoping it was him.  

“...Dear Heart?” A voice you didn’t expect at all replies, weak and choked. Jaskier. Only Jaskier has ever called you anything like Dear Heart, the only person to ever even think to call you by pet names, but not in that voice. Pained, like he was injured. Something logical in the back of your mind tries to remind you of Dopplers or any number of creatures that can change their voices, but the sound of your lover’s voice is enough to see you throw caution to the wind. You drop the blade to rip the door open, completely unfazed by the ear-splitting clatter of steel on wood. The door is open before you realise how forcefully you pull and there, shivering in the autumnal cold, is your bard.  

It’s hard to tell in the minimal light of your cooking fire, but he looks a mess. Chestnut hair splayed across his forehead in wet clumps, from rain or sweat you have no idea, deep red doublet and trousers stained with something that could be either mud or blood, and eyes sunken and darkened from a lack of sleep and something else. A sort of... hunger, longing that you know, but not in this intensity- he would look at you like this before kissing you, or bedding you, like you were ephemeral and easily gone without his touch. His frame lurches, holding to the door frame for stability.  

“Jask?” You whisper, and it’s enough for him to surge forward and crash his mouth to yours. The look in his eyes mirrors how he kisses you, hungry and rough, cracked lips moving against your own in such a way that you almost fear the blood you can taste is your own, but it’s definitely not. You feel like you ought push him away, chide him for coming so late and frightening you, but instead your arms wind around his neck to pull him closer still, lips moving gently against his, trying to slow the kiss. It’s been so long, too long, without his lips on yours, months without his touch when you would seldom live an hour without his touch. He takes the hint and the kiss instead turns sweet though still desperate, his hands resting on your hips even after you pull back and stare up at him like he’s a phantom or dream. “Jaskier, what are you doing here?”  

“...I missed you.” He says simply, voice cracking and breaking your heart at just how sad he sounds. “I. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to intrude, Little Miss. I should-"  

“Shut the door, Buttercup.” You interrupt him, hands sliding from his throat to hold his cheek. “And sit down. You look dead on your feet. Where's Ger?”  

Jaskier flinches at the mention of the white-haired man but does turn to close your front door. As soon as it’s closed, keeping the cold somewhat at bay, his arms are around you once more and face buried into your hair, drawing a contented sigh from you while your own arms work their way around his back. It’s been far too long. He feels like he always has, soft but with a firm layer of muscle just beneath, not obvious by looking at him, but there none the less. Hugs have always felt restrictive, like being caged but his have always felt like safety. It’s the same now, just more tight, and you cannot tell if he knows how tightly he’s holding you. Honestly, you can’t bring yourself to care. He could leave a Jaskier shaped bruise on your flesh so long as he robs you of the Jaskier shaped hole in your heart. He doesn’t smell as usual though, lavender and musk replaced with sweat and sulphur, telling you just how long it must have been since last he bathed.  

Deft fingers wind into the wispy hair at your nape at the same time that lips press to the crown of your head, followed by a deep inhale, you aren’t the only one to have missed the simple things like this. So much is hidden away in touch and smell, especially when not too long ago the two of you spent near every moment joined at the hip.  

“You smell like posies.” He mumbles into your hair, and you smile weakly at the observation.  

“You smell like death, Darling.” You reply before you really consider how mean the words are, though you hope your voice is playful. “I'll draw you a bath-"  

“No, no, no. Don’t... don't move, Muse. Let me... Let me cherish this moment. Reunions are supposed to be a happy time.” He doesn’t sound happy; he sounds as if he's choking back tears. “Gods, how I’ve missed you, Dear Heart.”  

“I missed you too, Buttercup. Like a lost limb.” It should seem a melodramatic turn of phrase, but it truly isn’t. It was like losing half of yourself to be away from him. Having him wrapped around you now is the closest to normal you’ve felt since leaving his side. “...Why are you here though, Love? Oughtn't you be with Ger-"  

“Don’t say his name.” The usually sweet voice of your bard comes out venomous, and his grip only tightens, “I’m not travelling with the prick.”  

The Prick. That’s new. So many of Jaskier’s songs are about the Witcher, but now he's the prick. You can’t help but blink in confusion, head tilting to look at your man but he instead swoops his head down to kiss you gently. He's trying to distract you, of that you're certain, but you decide it best to indulge him, kissing him sweetly and pulling back before he can deepen it.  

“...Stew.”  

It’s his turn to look confused, head tilted to one side to stare at you while you pull away.  

“Stew?”  

“Do you want some?” Gesturing blindly to the pot behind you, you begrudgingly break free of his hold on you. “You look hungry. Stew, a bath and then bed. I think it would do you the world of good.”  

“When did you become a domestic goddess, Little Miss?” He asks incredulously, lips turning up in a smile. He’s taunting you, but you don’t care as long as he stays smiling. “My Little Miss would sooner skin a deer with her teeth than cook.”  

“You can thank my mother for that. Old habits die hard, even if they are ones to make me a perfect wife.”  

“You’re a perfect wife already.” He says with a degree of finality in his statement, sitting by the fire. He makes it sound like you are his wife, and the thought brings a blush to your cheeks. “Are you going to join me?”  

“I need to get bowls for the stew.”  

“I mean in the bath.” He shoots a wink in your direction that you suppose is meant to be flirty, but on this defeated looking Jaskier it comes across more pathetic than anything else. Had you been asked an hour before, you would have moved heaven and hell for a chance to be in your miniscule bath with the Bard, using bathing as a preamble to ride him until your brain and legs turn to jelly and there's more water out of the bath than in it, but this Jaskier needs a gentle hand, and a helping hand to remove the layer of grime and melancholy that is covering his entire being. “You... You don’t have to. I. I'm being presumptuous, aren’t I?”  

“How?” You ask weakly, descending to your knees at the bard's side. “It's hardly the first time you've asked to see me unclothed.”

“It’s been months. You probably have a new lover. I mean, look at you, how could you not?” He asks, gesturing to your body as if it was supposed to mean something to you. “You look like a gift from on high, and I... I left you here. To grow soft, and gentle and domestic.” His hand rests on your thigh but there’s nothing romantic in the touch, just longing. Like, despite his hand on your bard flesh, you're in fact a thousand miles away or he's lamenting to the spectre of a lost love. “Someone else has snapped you up, and I’ve lost you, and come here, and you’re too polite to say no.”  

“We both know I would never be made to do anything I don’t want.” You smile, and lean in to press a chaste kiss to his lips. He chuckles softly, and watches you as you ladle some stew into a bowl and hand it to him. “And I don’t. Have anyone else.”  

“You said a man's name when I was at the door.”  

“My employer. He’s... odd. Constantly sniffing about.” You reassure him, watching him spoon up some of the both and sip it before sighing, from the taste or reassured that you love him still. “If I didn’t want you, I’d have stabbed you.”  

“You. You waited.” It’s a statement, and you nod simply in agreement.  

“You said you'd come in winter.” His eyes focus on you once more, drinking you in like it is both the first and last time he shall see you.

“You look like you did the night we first met.” He says conversationally, and you smile, remembering how he had winked at you mid song. It feels a hundred years ago, though you know it couldn’t be more than six years ago. “I thought you were the most sublime creature on the planet. There’s not an ounce of feral in you, just... beauty and softness, with something wild behind the eyes.” He says soft like it’s a thing to be admired, not disparaged. His eyes, stormy blue and sad look about your childhood home with nostalgia for a time that you don’t know. “You look like a life worth living, Dear Heart.”  

“...A life worth living?”

“Yes. This. This you, all gentle and half asleep, looking at me like you love me. A little home and a fire, Darling Love telling me to eat and bathe and sleep. Domestic. A life worth living.”  

“I do love you Jaskier.” You interrupt, letting the words fall off your tongue like they’re the easiest thing in the world to say. They feel that way.  

“You shouldn’t. I left you here.” The words come out hollow, and you take his hand from your thigh to your lips and kiss it. You can all but see the knotted weaves and threads of his mind, and hope the kiss will soothe them, even a little. His hand tugs free for a moment to ghost his fingers along the scar on your face, making you shiver.

“I was hurt.”  

“I should have stayed. Should have stayed by your side.”  

“You’re here now, Julian. That’s enough.” It shouldn’t be, but it is. He's here, not exactly as you’d like him to be, but having him beside you is more than enough. The comforting presence of warmth beside you is more than enough to wipe away the months of absence.

He sighs your name like a prayer, “I love you.”  

“As you should.” You tease, and he places the bowl beside him to take your hands in his, prompting you to give up all pretence of propriety to instead climb onto his lap, intertwined fingers bridging the gap between your bodies. “You’re upset.”  

“At the sight of the love of my life looking like a perfect little wife in an empty home.” Obtuse Jaskier might just be your least favourite form of the Bard, him trying to mask feelings he wears so openly, like he thinks you a fool. You’re unwilling to pry, though, so bite your tongue. “I’m half convinced I died on that mountain, and you’re just what my mind has created as a dying thought.”  

“Shush.” You coo, lips chastely brushing against his. “You're as alive as I am, keep the melancholies out of it. If I look like some... darling bride then be quiet, seeing as that would make you a very foolish husband to spend your night bemoaning your fears and not kissing me.”  

He chuckles at that, a small triumph, but enough to fill your heart to bursting point.  

“I’d be a fool for leaving you here alone.” He starts but a sharp noise of annoyance cuts him off.  

“Stay forever to make up for it, then.” You retort, “Sleep next to me until I can’t remember a single morning without you.”  

He blinks at that, enrapturing you in how the black of his eyes swells until you cannot see any of the blue.  

“You want me to stay?”  

“For always.”  

He grins, almost wide enough to distract from the tears that well in his eyes and you lean in to kiss him once more, his hands settling on your hips to pull you closer still. You've missed this, the stupidity that fills your head when his lips are on yours, tongue gently trailing along the seam of your mouth, never invasive, just inquisitive.  

“You truly do need a bath though.” You grumble against his mouth, Jaskier pulls back in mock indignation.

“I know you don’t actually mean that and just want to undress me.”  

“Oh, shut up, Dandelion.”  

His hands turn from cradling to tickling, sending you into reams of laughter that he echoes. All, for just a moment, feels right in the world, now that he's with you again.  

#jaskier imagine #jaskier x reader #jaskier x you #jaskier x y/n

[ma12s]

Phases/Interests the Arcana characters would have had if they were Gen  Z

Asra:

Naturally, when he was young he’d have a phase for Harry Potter, only the books though, and as he got older he’d re-read them and laugh at the magical inconsistencies.

TAZ. He probably simped at some point for Taako. Perhaps just dnd in general, and he either played a Magick user of some kind or a bard depending on his level of intoxication.

*inhales* PERCY JACKSON. that's it that's the point. He even got the unfulfilling Best Years Of Your Life Depression(tm) from reading exciting, romanticised accounts of teenagehood, only for it to not live up because how could it? its chill though, he finds his own little ways to be adventurous like making pasta in the late dead of night/early void hours of the morning, and eating on the floor. Faust helps him. 

Listens to sleeping at last just to feel again and Saturn is his favourite and he will dance sensually and soulfully to it, somehow.

He watches Midnight gospel because he just loves the concept of podcasts but can sometimes struggle listening when its just audio bc he will vibe himself into a mediative state and have no idea what half the episode was about, so the visuals ironically keep him pretty grounded while he watches it. (He does meditate afterwards, though)

Julian: 

This man DID have a fnaf phase and he IS the MAN behind THE SLAUGHTER. (He also gets a kick outta die in a fire (obviously) but it sends him absolutely, irrevocably feral)

He 100% had an emo phase too, but in a gay way that slowly transitioned into a weird taste for aspects of cottage core but like a Seaside cottage, and jams it to bear ghost now. 

I bet he also got into true crime and has many pieces of paraphernalia with the slogan “Be GAY Do CRIME”. He also knows waaaay too much about how to dispose of bodies from that one reddit thread and worries everyone by bringing it up just a little bit too often. Also! out of morbid curiosity, he's the kinda bitch that would watch autopsy videos at 3:27am and is subscribed to ask a mortician and definitely participates in vulture culture.

Ngl he probably also got roped into a SuperWhoLock phase by Asra and it just added to his trust issues and permanently damaged his Gaydar.

Probably haunted by April 13...

He can't tell whether he wants to BE hozier or if he wants to FUCK him but tbh he's not fussy. He sings his heart out to From Eden, and bops hard to cheer wine (his favourite is the live version) and you better bet he listens to the 8d audios of Hozier but its.... and his YT history is full of them.

Nadia:

She's a bad bitch, but probably didn't get into anything too obscure. She probably has liked something and tried desperately to hide it from her elder sisters, only for them to get into it too. she’d be alright about it at first, but when Nasmira starts getting way more likes on her fandom content, Nadia starts feeling a bit put down and quits the fandom. 

She’s is or has been at some point been knee deep in showtunes. She liked Hamilton but isn't quite trash for it, but will wipe the floor with your ass if Dead Girl Walking comes on.

Probably had a ‘not like other girls phase’ but instead of giving her a weird, kinda toxic relationship with womanhood, she got over it and accepts her femininity and will defend within an inch of her life women's rights and choices. 

She's a proud Barb and would absolutely let Doja cat step on her. She hypes up girls on their OnlyFans and will actively murder people who tries to disrespect sex workers, as she too, respects the grind. 

Also likes Greek and Egytian mythology, and stans Medusa as a victim of Men aint being shit. She also can't decide whether she stans Persephone or Aphrodite more and it is a constant ongoing debate in her head. She probably supports Lore Olympus on patreon.

Lucio:

MLP but he wouldn't ever admit it, and protects Fluttershy from creeps with his liFE. he also actually felt pretty bad for Discord, and kinda related to him. (Legend has it that on cursed, cursed nights of solitude, you can hear the sounds of DiSCOrddd iM hOWLin’ aT ThE MooN~~ drift in the air, accompanied by an actually really good rendition of the lyrics).

Lucio also liked heathers and he and Nadia bond over belting it out together, but his favourite is candy store (but will occasionally bop it to Big Fun).

His experience of Gay Culture was just binge watching drag race while he was still trying to accept his mlm-ness, and gatekeeped it until he learnt eventually how its supposed to be a place of tolerance and support and will now actively encourage All drag monarchs to work it. (He realises belatedly why it felt kinda wrong when RuPaul/the show did the queens dirty and the lack of diverse identites etc). He’s a little off with some things but with a little guidance from a very hesitant Asra, he's slowly getting Woke. (Neither will admit that they bond over these little lessons by the end of it, but everyone knows it and wish they’d just chill abt it)

Liked Voltron, stanned Lotor and his redemption arc and just... does Not want to talk about it.

Felt *weird*~~ when he watched that [one] scene with Levi from attack one titan and it took him a while but Now He Knows...

Muriel:

Got into Buzzfeed Unsolved and is mildly ashamed of himself but he finds Shane and Ryans dynamic really funny so he keeps watching it anyways. For some ~~mysterious~~ reason, he has had mad respect for Shane after the Goatman’s bridge episode, and immediately went to send it to everyone else, but got scared. 

He likes to watch documentaries on cryptids (sometimes with Asra, or with Julian depending on how creepy the cryptid is)

His life was changed on the fateful day of 11/11/11. He has the highest logged hours on steam out of everyone ever and ProtectOrcs2020 could basically be his tagline at this point. He always adopts the kids and makes them the Best House with the hearthfire DLC. He always goes with the stormcloaks and probably simps for at least 5 of the companions.

He got into the Witcher through the Netflix series and started out being a Geralt stan, but jaskier slowly snook his way into his heart and he highkey ships them and Siri IS their child. (he would convince Nadia to cosplay as Yennefer, if he had more confidence). 

Portia:

She liked dan and Phil but wasn't creepy abt it. She swore she could never pick a side but she secretly enjoyed Phil’s content more bc existentialism gives her anxiety. She did ship them but has since learnt quick that irl people ships aren't cute. She probably stays Thomas Sanders too

IF you're looking for a bitch with the nicest island on animal crossing, portia is 100% your bitch. She has Lillies of the valley for days and absolutely died when the special edition AC switch sold out before she could buy one, and compensates by copious amounts of Isabelle and the able sister stickers. Her favourite villagers are Fauna, Goldie, and Nate. 

Portia is also a queen of Stardew and often passes out before she can get to bed because she just wants to get ON with her beautiful FarM dammit! She can never make her mind up what villager she wants to romance and switches faves like every week.

Listens to girl in red to drown her sorrows after 🎨🎻👩🏼‍🤝‍👩🏻🔥.

#the arcana #the arcana game #asra alnazar #asra the arcana #julian devorak #julian #count lucio #goatman lucio #nadia #nadia satrivana #muriel #muriel the arcana #the arcana game portia #portia #fandoms #the arcana headcanons #honestly bros I think I must've gotten all? #faust #!!! #aight im gonna stop but like I'm honestly so proud of myself #the things and time I spend on this game #is #astronomial

[bard-llama]

The Witcher Fic Masterlist

Masterlist of all of my Witcher fics, updated as of June 5, 2021.

If you like my writing, consider donating to my ko-fi! I am writing gift fics for all donors.

Here is a masterlist of all completed multi-chapter fics.

Series:

Families of Choice

Geraskefer Canon Divergent AU

Summary: The best families are those you choose. Jaskier realized that early in life, but his family continues to expand over the years.

Series Masterlist

Cintra Happily Ever After Series:

AU from the Families of Choice Series (as of the end of 5 Dinners with the Lioness chapter 5)

Summary: A series in which I pretend everything is fine and nobody dies, and Geralt makes Cintra his home base after the feast in episode 4.

Series Masterlist

Chronic Pain Series

Summary: Unconnected shorts in which I vent my pain onto fictional characters.

At Her Back

Summary:  Yennefer was born with a twisted spine. Her transformation had cured her, but she still felt the pain as if nothing had changed. Geralt offers Jaskier's services as a masseuse.

Coming to a Head

Summary: During a confrontation gone wrong, Jaskier gets hit with a spell that is supposed to cause unimaginable pain. So why does Jaskier seems mostly unaffected?

When Pigs Talk

Summary: When seeking pain relief, Yennefer takes something that makes the pigs in her pig pen start talking. It’s the start of an interesting evening.

Your eyes aren’t rivers there to weep

Rated E

Summary: Geralt’s eyes burn and ache like he’s undergoing the trials again, so Jaskier does his best to help distract from the pain.

Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria

Iorveth/Roche Witcher 2 Different First Meeting AU

Summary: A Witcher 2 Canon AU in which Iorveth and Roche meet before either of them know who the other is. Somehow, this changes absolutely everything.

Series Masterlist

Fish Out of Water

Iorveth/Roche MerMay AU

Summary: Once upon a time, all elves lived in the sea and had mer forms. Now, Iorveth is something of a novelty, one of the last true elves.

Series Masterlist

For You, My Love, I Bleed

Iorveth/Roche angsty AU

Summary: Iorveth and Roche had been happy, or so Iorveth had thought. Then King Foltest recalls Roche to the capital, and suddenly Iorveth is left alone as Roche returns to Foltest. Roche made his choice, clearly, and Iorveth just has to deal with that. But all is not as it seems, and Roche considers everything worth sacrificing if it protects the man he loves.

Series Masterlist

A Hard Day’s Night

Iorveth/Roche interrogation AU

Summary: Iorveth ends up imprisoned, with Vernon Roche as his interrogator. From there it only gets worse - or better, depending on your point of view.

Series Masterlist

If You’re Good to Mama

Iorveth/Roche Outsider POV

Summary: The Clarabelle is the finest brothel in town and its located in the shittiest part of town. Follow the adventures of the Madame, Eliza, and the brothel workers as they start working to supply food to the terrorist elves in the Scoia'tael.

Series Masterlist

Keep Me

Iorveth/Roche fanart AU

Summary: All Vernon Roche wants in life is someone to keep him and appreciate him. Surprisingly, he may find exactly that - in the form of his enemy, no less. Based on this art.

Series Masterlist

King and Country

Iorveth/Roche divergent AU

Summary: When Foltest rejects Vernon Roche, he sets into motion a series of events that have consequences he never could've expected. A universe in which Roche's anger and hurt at Foltest remove the rose colored glasses.

Series Masterlist (NEW ADDITIONS!)

Love Shack

Iorveth/Roche Secret Relationship AU

Summary: The Love Shack: a ramshackle cabin in the forest that happens to be Iorveth and Roche's only respite from a reality full of violence, war, and hate. In the Love Shack, all that matters is each other.

Series Masterlist

The Lovestruck Fox

Iorveth/Roche Schoolgirl Crush AU

Summary: It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that the Scoia’tael Commander holds his opposite in the highest esteem. 

Series Masterlist

Petals and Stripes

Iorveth/Roche Hanahaki AU

Summary: Those that felt the deepest of deep loves could develop a condition known as the wasting disease. Those afflicted slowly suffocate as their lungs fill with fruit representing the one they love. Well, it's supposed to be fruit. So why is Commander Roche coughing up flowers?

Series Masterlist

With A Look I May Not Meet

Iorveth/Roche capture AU

Summary: When Iorveth is captured using his relationship with Vernon Roche, Roche is forced to make a decision. Stand with King Foltest and Temeria as he has always done - or choose Iorveth and go on the run.

Series Masterlist

The Woodland Fox and The Temerian Hound

Iorveth/Roche animal transformation AU

Summary: Roche usually didn’t mind Triss’s magic much. Sure, she poked at him with it all the time, but it was always playful, inviting him in on the fun. This time, however, something had gone very, very wrong and he was quite sure that it would take him a long time to trust her magic again. Because somehow a rebound spell had hit him, and now he had a tail. A dog’s tail. Well, he was always getting called Foltest’s attack dog. Now it was just a bit more literal.

Series Masterlist

Under the cut:

New! Gen fics (22)

Yennefer fics (4)

Geraskier/Geraskefer fics (25)

Geralt getting railed fics (4)

Cintra fics (Calanthe/Eist and others) (9)

Lambert/Aiden fics (6)

Lambert/Jaskier fic (1)

Wolf Witcher fics (2)

New! Iorveth/Roche fics (45)

New! Saskia fics (3)

Gen Fics:

(They came after me) With Masterful Deceit

Summary: When Jaskier discovers that Yennefer has Elven blood, he is forced to confront his prejudices.

Beauty and Imperfections

Summary: Jaskier signs up to be a nude model. He's expecting it to be a fun, sexy time. It goes a lot differently than he expected.

The Blood of the Covenant is Thicker Than the Water of the Womb 

Summary:  Found Family prompt fills, focusing mostly on Iorveth and Roche. Chapter 1: Geralt invited all of his family to join him in Corvo Bianco, which is great, but has the downside that finding a moment alone is near impossible.

Cards Out For Your Country

WiP

Summary: In which a great number of people are convinced or coerced into posing for a Gwent Pinup Calendar.

Greg the Demon Horse

Summary: Jaskier tries to make a stuffed toy for Ciri. If only he knew how to sew properly.

Gwent, The Good Old Game (NEW!)

WiP

Summary: Zoltan, Dandelion, and Priscilla decide to go all in on a new money-making scheme involving gwent. This time, they are going to sell stories and dolls of the characters that appear on gwent cards. It's guaranteed to make a killing.

History is Written by the Victors

Summary: “Dara said grandmother’s men laughed as they raped women and killed babies by - by swinging them by their legs, bashing their heads in.” Fuck. Tentatively, Jaskier wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her into a hug when she didn’t flinch away. In his head, he could hear Filavandrel’s voice, the humans proudly watch these very fields grow... our babies fertilizer for their grain. He swallowed against rising bile. Against his neck, he could feel Ciri finally succumb to tears. “How could grandmother order that? I know her, that wasn’t what she was like! But Dara wouldn’t have lied.”

Wherein our characters struggle with knowing that good people can do awful things, and that everything you think you know is probably wrong.

How to Train Your Roach

Summary: The story of how Jaskier's stupid ditties on the road accidentally trained Roach.

Inspired by Her Fire

Warning: Spoilers for Witcher 2, specifically something from the end of Iorveth’s Path.

Summary:  Saskia's POV during the Council Meeting where Saskia introduces Iorveth.

It’s the Little Things

Summary: A collection of fills for various prompts! Chapter 1: “You. Rest. Now.”

jaws that crack the bones the lion leaves

Summary: Jaskier writes a song about the Slaughter of Cintra.

Life is a Cabaret

Witcher 3 Canon/Spoilers

Summary: Set during the Cabaret quest, after Geralt helps Dandelion with his staged fight, he decides that Dandelion's big comfy bed at the Rosemary & Thyme is perfect for a bit of rest. Dandelion doesn't exactly mind.

The Lion That Haunts My Dreams

Rated M

Summary: Calanthe does what is needed to protect her kingdom. Dara just wants to forget. Two perspectives on a genocide.

Marilka

Summary: Geralt knew he couldn’t claim his Child of Surprise. Destiny had punished him harshly the one time he’d thought about raising a child. He could not risk its wrath again.

Power

Summary: Yennefer had been forced to fight for every bit of power she had. So why does the power to make people see her seem so unattainable? An introspective look at Yenn during the Dragon Hunt (but ignoring the break up because I can)

Sentenced to Write

Summary: A collection of fics from 1 sentence prompts. Chapter One: Thief!Ciri Chapter Two: Kid!Calanthe

Soft Words and Kind Hearts

Summary: A collection of fills for Geralt Fluff Week 2020. Day 1: First times. Geralt gets a tattoo and becomes part of the Blue Stripes Commandos

Sweat and Blood and Tears: A Geralt Whump Collection

Summary: Collected shorts for Geralt Whump Week

What Makes a Family

Summary: Ciri spends her first birthday since the Fall of Cintra at Kaer Morhen.

What You Meme to Me

Summary: A collection of Witcher fics inspired by memes. Just because. Second chapter: Jaskier doesn't understand why people are so obsessed with gender. Why would what's in their pants matter?

The White Wolf

Summary: Geralt always gets named the White Wolf in fight clubs, even before Jaskier gave him the name. Sometimes he even hid his medallion and gave a fake name, and still, he was always called the White Wolf.

Your Voice is Your Life

Summary: “Your voice is your life.” His old teacher used to tell him. Jaskier largely disagreed, but then a djinn steals his voice. Bottled Appetites from Jaskier's point of view

Yennefer Fics

To Be...

Summary: Collection of shorts for Yennefer Appreciation Week on Tumblr!

A Tribute to the Fae

Rated E

Summary: When Yennefer accidentally trespasses on fae land, she must pay the price.

Viscount Pankratz and Wife

WiP

Summary: When Jaskier receives an invitation to a fancy party addressed to him and his wife, he decided he deserved a night of fun causing problems for people. Who better to help than Yennefer of Vengerberg?

Yenn & Djinn

WiP

Summary: Bottled Appetites AU Jaskier’s last wish is for Geralt to appear. This manages to change everything.

Geraskier/Geraskefer Fics: 

(I would not wish) Any Companion But You

Summary: I’m not your friend, Geralt always insists whenever Jaskier calls them such.

100 Ways to Love You

Rated E

Summary: A drabble collection for Witcher OT3 sex Okay, it might be more double drabbles than drabbles, but shhh

Awaken in Pleasure

Rated E

Summary: Geralt dreams of having Jaskier waking him up with sex. He finally manages to ask for it.

Bounce a Coin Off Your Witcher

Rated E

Summary: Jaskier has lots of thoughts about Geralt's arse in leather pants. And then they get stuck in a small room together.

Butter That Biscuit

Rated E

Summary: Bottled Appetites Ep 5 AU – When Jaskier awakes in Yennefer’s room, he does, in fact, butter that biscuit.

Five Almost Kisses and One Happily Ever After 

WiP

Rated E

Summary: What it says on the tin. Geralt knows he wants Jaskier, but why would the bard ever be interested in a witcher? Five times Geralt ALMOST figures it out and one time he actually makes a move.

Five Times Geralt Frotted Against Jaskier’s Ass and One Time He Fucked It

Rated E

Summary: Based on this tumblr post about Geralt frotting against Jaskier's ass in his sleep.

Fulfilling a Need

Rated E

Summary: Geralt has been twitchy and restless lately. When Jaskier confronts him, he discovers that what Geralt needs is for Jaskier to take control and fuck his face. So he does.

Gestures of Affection

Rated M

Summary:  A collection of shorts featuring any configuration of the relationship between Geralt, Jaskier, and Yennefer and the ways they show affection to each other. With bonus Ciri, because she’s their family.

Hit Me Baby (One More Time)

Rated E

Summary: Jaskier desperately wants physical evidence of Geralt’s love for him.

How to Spoil Your Pet

Rated E

Summary: Yennefer and Jaskier team up to give Geralt everything he wants. He wants a lot. Good thing they're amenable.

Howling Swirling Storm

Summary: Jaskier is a winter spirit who has always been shit at hiding his powers. But somehow Geralt still never figured it out?

Jaskier’s Words are Horseshit

Summary: The thing about Jaskier is, he never shuts up. Literally, ever. That was the first thing Geralt noticed about the bard, but he was not prepared for all that entailed. Jaskier was, quite literally, always making noise of some sort. If he wasn’t singing, he was humming, muttering, strumming at his lute. Even in his sleep, the bard hmm’d and sighed and mumbled and snored continuously.

A Kiss With a Lash

Rated E

Summary: Geralt asks Jaskier to punish him for the Break Up (TM)

Making Amends

WiP

Rated E

Summary: Jaskier is putting his life back together after the Mountain™. So what is he supposed to do when Geralt arrives at his doorstep?

Pamper Your Witcher

Rated E

Summary: Geralt doesn't let himself have the finer things in life. So Jaskier decides to pamper him.

That Wild Blue Yonder

Summary: Jaskier lives in the modern world as Julian Alfred Pancratz. When his family vacations at an old castle his cousin owns, he discovers an old wardrobe that leads to the Continent. Specifically, it leads to a wardrobe belonging to Madeline de Stael.

The Pleasure of a Good Bath

Rated E

Summary: Geralt had always enjoyed baths. Since Jaskier had joined him, they'd gotten even better - and it was making it difficult to hide that he wanted more.

Porny Prompt Pile

Rated E

Summary: Just porny fics based on prompts. First chapter: Geraskier - blow job while standing Second chapter: Geraskier - Jaskier riles Geralt into rough sex

Relationships Require Communication

Summary: Jaskier liked to joke about him being allergic to the word ‘friends’, but he wasn’t far off. Geralt was aware that he was not good at talking, not good at feelings, and definitely not good about combining the two. After Yennefer and Jaskier leave him on the mountain, Geralt does some thinking about what happened and how exactly he messed up. And how to fix it.

Rushing Thoughts and Pulsing Hearts

Rated E

Summary: Geralt knew he was in love with Jaskier, but what could he do about it? No one believed Witchers could love. Not even him, sometimes.

So hold me, lover, like you used to

Rated E

Summary: When Geralt brings Cirilla to Oxenfurt to search for Jaskier, he was not expecting to walk into a concert the bard and another were giving together. Songfic based on The Amazing Devil.

When Words Act As Phantoms on Horseback

Summary:  Jaskier gets Geralt used to the lack of silence. Without him, the silence creeps up on him and itches at his mind until he must break it. AKA how Netflix!Geralt slowly becomes more like Game!Geralt.

With Knot But A Look

Rated E

Summary: Jaskier asks tamed werewolf!Geralt to fuck him in the forest under the full moon.

Worth 100 Words

Summary: This is a Witcher drabble collection, using prompts. Mostly OT3 and family fics with Ciri.

Geralt getting railed fics:

A Cintran Welcome

Rated E

Summary: Geralt’s Witcher stamina is too much for Jaskier to handle alone, but he wants Geralt to experience being fucked to exhaustion. So he arranges a gangbang in Cintra. Featuring Geralt’s self–loathing getting overwhelmed with pleasure.

Forest of Plenty

Rated E

Summary: Geralt goes to visit his friend Mousesack for some fun and discovers that Mousesack and Jaskier have already anticipated his arrival and prepared quite a surprise for him.

I’m Yours to Claim

Rated E

Summary: Geralt knew he would eventually agree to go to Cintra. It was Jaskier asking, after all. He hadn't expected to run into his old friend and fuckbuddy, Mousesack, but it was nice to see him again.

Size Matters: The Geralt Size Queen Chronicles

Rated E

Summary: Just porn about Geralt being a size queen.

Cintra Fics: 

5 Gifts from Family, 1 Vision of the Future, and 1 New Start

Summary: Pavetta gets to know her family after the banquet.

Artistic Endeavors

Rated M

Summary: Calanthe discovers that her daughter has a habit of drawing rather explicit art. For the Banned Together Bingo prompt "Porn". Set before Episode 4: Of Banquets, Bastards, and Burials

Falling Into the Lion’s Den

Rated E

Summary: Calanthe and Eist have slept together many times, but it was never about feelings. So why does Eist propose to her and insist on changing everything?

Her Mother’s Legacy

Summary: Ciri had always had trouble with schooling. So if Geralt wants to train her in monster lore, he's going to have to do some things for her. Featuring ways Pavetta helped Ciri figure out how to manage her ADHD.

Like a Punch to the Face

Summary: “Oh sweet Cintra, you were so promising, from your spoiled princess to your stupid old king! But when I arrived, the royals were dead! Tossed out a window or shot in the head!” Ciri forced herself to keep walking past the puppet show, feeling like a fist had reached into her chest and ripped out her heart.

The Lion in the Woods

Summary: Mousesack teaches Ciri about the importance of balance.

The Lioness and the Seahound

Rated E

Summary: A collection of Calanthe/Eist porn fics. Chapter One: Calanthe positions Eist so that she can ride him while giving the illusion that she was taking him. Eist loves it.

Mousesack’s Educational Retreat for Proper Young Nobles

WiP

Summary: 13 year old Calanthe gets sent to a “whip-your-heirs-into-shape” 6 weeks and she is not happy about it. She’s also not delighted by this kid Eist, who is determined to become her friend, and sharing her room with 2 other noblewomen was not fun. Featuring 13 year olds’ interpretations of cultures, some significant cultural misunderstandings, and some slow but sure developing friendships.

O war! Thou son of hell

Summary: In the aftermath of war, Calanthe waits to feel the way everyone said she was supposed to.

Lambert/Aiden Fics:

An Evening of Frippery

Rated E

Summary: When Lambert and Aiden get invited to a fancy party, it’s the perfect excuse to dress up, dance, and have some fun.

Fuck Me Properly (NEW!)

Rated E

Summary: Aiden stumbles upon Lambert getting fucked by a plant. With tentacles. Then his brain kind of shorts out.

One Way to Skin a Cat (NEW!)

Summary: A reflection on Aiden's thoughts in the aftermath of his near death, and a realization of what Lambert must be thinking.

pretty witcher (walking down the street)

Rated E

Summary: Lambert decides to finally make his move, dressing up in his prettiest dress to encourage Aiden to give in to temptation. Before he has a chance, though, bandits force them into an unexpected position.

Silk and Lace

Rated E

Summary: When Aiden and Lambert split up on the road to tackle separate contracts before meeting again, Lambert takes the opportunity to spoil himself with pretty clothes and slow, drawn out pleasure.

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This (NEW!)

Rated M

Summary: Lambert wakes up when Aiden has a bad dream. Fortunately, he knows a good way to get Aiden's mind off of it.

Lambert/Jaskier Fics:

Desperate Affection

Rated E

Summary: Lambert didn't know when he'd fallen in love with the bard, but he could no longer imagine life at Kaer Morhen without him.

Wolf Witcher Fics:

Ensnared

Rated E

Summary: Lambert, Geralt, and Eskel have a long tradition where Eskel ties them up. This time, they've invited Aiden and Jaskier in on the fun.

The School of the Wolf

Summary: Vesemir is old, the oldest Witcher alive. Witchers don’t retire, they get slow and they die. He knows he's slowing down, but all he has left in this world is the boys he trained, and the legacy of the School of the Wolf.

Iorveth/Roche Fics: 

A Kiss Can Mean A Thousand Things 

Summary: Fills for kissing prompts based on the 50 Types of Kisses Writing Prompts

And Ghosts Did Shriek and Shrill

WiP

Rated M for violence/gore

Summary: After the unjust murder of his team, Vernon Roche is willing to do anything to get them back. Even if it means drawing on unspoken-of beliefs from a childhood in Velen.

Before All Else, Be Armed (NEW!)

Summary: Iorveth and Vernon Roche are finally getting together. But when it comes time to disrobe, they run into a few problems. Namely, the sheer number of concealed weapons each of them carry.

Brewing Romance and Dissent 

WiP

Summary: When a spear to the eye means that Iorveth needs to take at least a year to recover, he decides to spend it undercover in a coffeeshop in Vizima's Royal Quarter. He's also not expecting his favorite customer to be a human.

Can’t We All Just Get Oolong? 

WiP

Summary: In which Iorveth and Roche discover that Roche's mom Eliza works for both of them, drink lots of tea, and slowly get to know one another.

The Chase

WiP

Rated M

Summary: Iorveth likes making Roche chase him when the Blue Stripes and the Scoia'tael clash. When Roche manages to catch him one day, something entirely unexpected happens. And then it keeps happening.

Commander Roche’s Secret Lover (NEW!)

WiP

Rated E

Summary: Commander Roche is very clearly hiding a lover. His team tries to figure out who it could be.

Deep Inside Me (NEW!)

Rated E

WiP

Summary: Iorveth longs for things he shouldn't want and his attempt to ignore that ends up making everything worse.

Devour What’s Truly Yours

Rated E

Summary: When Roche discovers Iorveth inside a magical circle of flowers with pollen that makes you feel good, he was not at all prepared to find out what they had to do before they could leave.

A Dh’oine’s Only Use (NEW!)

Rated E

Summary: Iorveth arranges for his Scoia'tael to make use of his new whore, Vernon Roche. After all, a dh'oine's only use is as a hole to be fucked.

Dream a Little Dream of Me

Rated E

Summary: It totally doesn’t mean anything that Roche dreams of Iorveth.

‘Ere Our Souls Are Ground To Dust 

Summary: After Nilfgaard conquered the continent and deigned to let Temeria be self-governed, Roche finds himself drowning in work trying to build a new government and keep an economy afloat (well, more get it back there for some parts of Temeria). Meanwhile, he and Iorveth were managing to live a fairly domestic life together. It had only been a few months, but it was going well. Then they have their first fight. Over coffee, of all things.

Every Kiss Begins With Kayran (NEW!)

WiP

Rated E

Summary: Every once in a while, there was a local brave enough to seek out the Kayran for a pleasant distraction. The Kayran was delighted to oblige. And sometimes, sometimes there were people who wanted a more regular experience. People like Iorveth, who had scheduled monthly fuck dates to work off the stresses of command. Neither of them expected to get discovered during one such session.

Explore That Which Sets Your Soul Aflame (NEW!)

Rated E

Summary: Iorveth very much was not expecting Vernon to ask about his ears. But if he's going to satisfy Vernon's curiosity, it's only right that Vernon satisfy his in return.

Eye on You 

WiP

Rated E

Summary: 5 Times Iorveth Accidentally Watched Roche Come and 1 Time Roche Watched Him

False Positive (NEW!)

WiP

Rated E

Summary: When Iorveth sneaks into Lobinden in disguise to enjoy the Imbolc festival, the last thing he expects is to deal with Vernon Roche - especially because Vernon doesn't know it's him.

The First Seeds of Trust 

WiP

Rated E

Summary: As soon as Iorveth had started fighting vines rather than fighting him, Roche knew something was up. Still, nothing could have prepared him for what happened next.

Great Eggspectations (NEW!)

WiP

Rated E

Summary: In the aftermath of Temeria's fall, Vernon Roche is feeling unmoored. So it only makes sense to track down his once-enemy. Iorveth has always encouraged his mind to bring its best and right now, he dearly needs that. He's in for a slight surprise when he actually finds Iorveth, though.

A Heart’s Fire (NEW!)

Summary: Skellige is the only kingdom without a price on Iorveth's head, so it only makes sense to seek shelter there after the Scoia'tael are disbanded. The isles are nice, but what had been pleasantly cool in summer now turns freezing in winter and elves were not made for temperature extremes. So of course Iorveth manages to get caught in a blizzard.

How to Fluster an Elf 

WiP

Summary: When Geralt, Dandelion, and Zoltan make a casual remark about never having seen Iorveth flustered, Roche decides to take it as a challenge. Featuring Nilfgaardian feasts, cultural differences, really fancy beds and baths, and a witcher, a dwarf, and a bard who are having the time of their lives watching Roche try to catch Iorveth off guard.

It’s the Little Things

Summary:  A collection of fills for various prompts! Chapter 1: “You. Rest. Now.”

The language of friendship is not words but meanings 

WiP

Summary: When Geralt is hired by the Blue Stripes and the Scoia'tael to find their missing commanders, he discovers that not only have said commanders somehow turned into children, but that the two groups managed to scare them away before introductions could be made. Fortunately, Roche and Iorveth both have their own ways of making themselves understood.

Leap of Faith

WiP

Summary: When Roche changes the rules of engagement in a skirmish with the Scoia'tael, Iorveth ends up captured.

Needs More Dragons

Summary:  Frankly, 2 dragons in all the Witcher stories? Not enough. So have some fics with random dragons! Chapter 1: Honey, I Adopted A Dragon: Iorveth may have acquired a baby dragon while Roche was traveling. Roche is about to find out.

Never Have I Ever

Summary: The Blue Stripes have an evening off. What better way to spend it than by playing drinking games?

On Knife’s Edge 

Rated E

Summary: After they assist in the Battle of Kaer Morhen, Iorveth and Roche end up traveling back to Temeria together. An injury to Roche’s arm leaves him unable to shave himself, so it’s only polite for Iorveth to offer his assistance… right?

Olfucktory Senses (NEW!)

Rated E

WiP

Summary: Iorveth typically found the smell of human exertion to be nauseating. But when it's Vernon Roche's sweat, somehow he finds himself responding entirely differently.

Orificial Business

Rated E

WiP

Summary: When Roche hears a rumor that the Scoia’tael might be frequenting a brothel on the edge of town, he decides it’s worth going undercover to see.

Pining and Poignards (NEW!)

WiP

Rated E

Summary: Iorveth may spend a lot of time thinking about Vernon Roche, but it didn't mean anything. It couldn't mean anything. Doesn't stop him from contemplating the possibilities, though. Meanwhile, Roche attempts to teach himself Elder Speech to translate the carvings on a knife Iorveth stabbed him with.

The Portrait of Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon (NEW UPDATE!)

WiP

Summary: Ciri hates the portrait from her childhood that Geralt displays openly and proudly and loudly. He shows it off to everyone he can and she wants to destroy it. Lucky for her, two fighting enemies present a prime opportunity to make the portrait's destruction look like an accident.

The Pride of Temeria

The Blue Stripes are Temeria's elite Special Forces Unit. Their mission is to hunt down the Scoia'tael, but in between fighting and drilling, they get up to an awful lot of shenanigans. “He looks like he’s dead,” Shorty said, poking the sleeping form of their commanding officer with a stick. “Shorty!” Silas hissed shrilly. The newbie was still scared of breaking rules and he fidgeted nervously. “What?” Shorty shrugged, “He sleeps like the dead, it’s fine. As long as he’s not actually dead, anyway.” “He’s not,” Ves, their erstwhile second in command, rolled her eyes. “He’s just fucking weird.” “Are you sure he’s okay? How can he possibly breathe like that?” Igo frowned in worry, which wasn’t surprising for the man who had accidentally become their de facto team therapist. “What he needs,” Thirteen pointed in what would have been a dramatic gesture if not for the drunken stumble, “is a goo’ pair o’ tits to bury his face in.”

Red is the Rose (Complete!)

When Roche gives Iorveth a rose of remembrance, Iorveth doesn't know what to think. Legend has it that if you give a rose to someone you love, then it’ll live forever, but surely that can't be true. After all, Roche is his enemy.

Run Away With Me

Summary: Iorveth and Roche spend a starlit night together. “Run away with me,” he murmured, only half aware of the words he was saying. But when Iorveth froze, they truly processed and suddenly cold fear gripped him. He stuttered a correction, “I mean – I know, obviously, you can’t just leave your people. It’s – I–” Iorveth cupped his face, cutting off the stream of words. “Vernon,” Iorveth said, voice soft and wondrous. “Vernon,” he said again, tugging Roche forward into a desperate kiss, full of wanting and longing and regret. Even though Roche already knew the answer – of course they couldn’t just run away together – he still had to close his eyes and brace himself against the words he knew were coming when Iorveth drew back again. “Cariad,” Iorveth whispered, stroking his face. “Were my life my own, I would go anywhere with you.”

Scenes from Another World

Summary: Standalone scenes based on different trope AUs, but set in the canon Witcher universe.

Sentiment and Condescension

Summary:  Roche hadn’t been planning to go to the Vengelbud party, but as soon as Emhyr told him not to... Now if he could just get Iorveth to leave him alone, he could get wasted in peace.

Seven Seconds in Holding 

Summary: Iorveth is very, very unclear on how his last fight with the Blue Stripes led to him here, spooning Roche in the Blue Stripes’ holding cell, both their wrists cuffed together.

Spousal Privilege

Summary: Stuck at a diplomatic conference, Roche is frustrated that none of the elves in the room will even acknowledge he exists. Then Iorveth enters and it's like seeing an old friend. And then somehow they end up pretending to be married.

A Stubbornly Persistent Illusion (NEW!)

WiP

Rated E

Summary: Roche wakes up in a different world, one where he and Iorveth are raising Foltest's children in the dwarven city of Vergen.

These Boots (are gonna walk all over you)

Rated E

Summary: Neither Iorveth nor Roche had expected their fight to go like this. Inspired by this gorgeous art.

Time is Cruel, To Rob Us from Ourselves 

WiP

Summary: An AU of Don’t Cry for Me, Temeria/(Im)Perfect Strangers where a magical artifact sends everyone back through events of Iorveth’s past. Iorveth is less than pleased, but the insights into his character may be invaluable for more than one person present.

Under Pressure 

WiP

Rated E

Summary: When Iorveth defeats Vernon Roche, he intends to take his time interrogating his enemy. Fortunately, an abandoned mage’s house nearby provides him with the perfect toys to make this fun.

The Value of a Man

WiP

Summary: When Iorveth finally defeats Roche, he decides that such a valuable prisoner is worth ransoming back to the King. After all, surely the King's Enforcer is worth a few concessions to elven rights. Right?

To Weave The Strands of Fate (NEW!)

WiP

Summary: There is a tradition in Velen. Whenever a child is born within Velen, a lock of their hair is cut off and gifted to the Ladies of the Wood. According to whispered legends, the Lady Weavess could add the hair to her loom and thereby change their Fate.

What Happens in the Cave-In Stays in the Cave-In

WiP

Summary: When Iorveth and Roche’s fight ends abruptly because of a cave in, they find themselves trapped together as they wait to be unburied. In the meantime, Roche is injured and Iorveth has herbs that could help - but all he knows about humans is “they need more”.

Wolves and Squirrels and Stripes

Rated E

Geralt/Iorveth/Roche

Summary:  A collection of Witcher 2 short fics featuring Geralt, Iorveth, and Roche. Chapter 1: Iorveth had never expected this to happen when Geralt invited him to visit Kaer Morhen.

Saskia Fics:

Damned Be The Thoughts That Refuse To Leave (NEW!)

Rated E

Saskia/Iorveth/Roche

Summary: When Saskia gifted him a toy shaped like a large human penis, Iorveth had sworn he would never use it. After all, it wasn't as if there were any humans he desired... right?

Shared Custody (NEW!)

Rated E

Saskia/Iorveth/Roche

Summary: Iorveth wasn't sure how walking into Saskia's office to see her talking with Vernon Roche of all people led to the three of them jammed into a closet with him in the middle, but he supposed it could be worse.

What Goes Around Comes Around (NEW!)

Rated E

Saskia/Philippa

Summary: Philippa decides to give Saskia a little treat to wake up to. Saskia repays her in full.

#my fics #the witcher #geraskier #geralt x yennefer #geralt x yennefer x jaskier #witcher ot3 #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #yennefer of vengerberg #ciri #cirilla fiona elen riannon #fic masterlist #laiden #lambert/aiden #the witcher 3 #calanthe/eist #queen calanthe #eist tuirseach #the witcher 2 #iorveth/roche #iorveth #vernon roche