#more nonbinary Geralt please

[starssunsoftheinfinite]

MasterPost Please Read

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

WRITTING REQUESTS {OPEN still working on that Loki fic but I'm now in a spot where I can fill in more requests while I do it! Might be a little slow though<3 my apologies}

ART REQUESTS {OPEN}

Full Fanfictions can be found posted separately here, as well as eventually a large collection of one-shots from Tumblr as I write them for ease of reading ☆

Who will I write for? {more to come}

☆MCU☆

Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier {Please specify if you'd like WS Bucky}

Loki/Jotun Loki {Please specify if you'd like Jotun Loki to be canonical as in smaller than the usual frost giants or something more like the what if? Jotun loki}

Steve Rogers

Thor Odinson

Peter Parker {I won't write smut for him thats anything more than extensive kissing}

☆The Witcher☆

Jaskier

Geralt

☆The Hobbit☆

Bilbo Baggins

Thorin Oakensheild

Fili

Kili

Thranduil

Legolas {Please specify if youd like Hobbit Legolas or LOTR Legolas}

Bard

☆The Lord of the Rings☆

Frodo Baggins

Samwise Gamgee

Pippin Took

Merry Brandybuck

Aragorn

Gimli

Legolas

Sauron {He would be portrayed in a physical form, please specify if you'd want your own description of him, please provide this in the ask, Sauron in his armor, Rings of Power Sauron, or the Sauron that's often depicted in fanart E.G the long blonde hair ect}

Elrond

Lindir

☆Castlevania☆

Alucard

Trevor

Would you write for ships?

Yes! Nothing incestuous {that includes thorki} or with questionable dynamics/age differences {e.g tony stark and peter parker} though.

Even if it's an obscure ship or a rare pare such as Loki and Bucky or something like that I'm willing to give it a go.

I will write ships for all the fandoms I have in my Bio.

Do you write x readers?

Yes! If you don't specify what gender you'd like them to be for, I will always go for completely neutral {Please message me if you notice any slip-ups that give the reader a gender identity in these fics!}

I'll happily write for Cis men, Nonbinary{transmasc or transfem}, Agender, Genderfluid, Transmen, or any other identity you'd like to be written about.

However, I don't feel comfortable writing Female readers, my apologies.

When requesting a trans reader, please specify things that you want to be mentioned such as does the reader wear a binder, have top surgery, or neither? Bottom surgery? Hormone therapy? etc... If any of these aren't specified I will do my best to keep the language either neutral or on the more masculine side for Transmasc or Transman readers {E.G referring to the genitalia as a dick in smut fics if needed whether they have surgery or not}

What kinds of things can I ask for in smutfics?

Im open to writing most kinks.

I WONT WRITE {more things to be added as time goes on}

age play {in nonsexual situations its fine}

race play

excessive food play {I'll write it lightly but I dont like to get too into it}

Non-con or dubious consent {this includes if both of either character is intoxicated in some way}

Urine play

Scat fetishes

Fart play

I will not write the use of slurs during sexual interactions

Can I be given a nickname if I want to ask anonymously but still want you to know it's me?

Of course! Just request a nickname or emoji/symbol to be used for you and Ill add you to a list I have to make sure only one person has that nickname.

Taken sign offs - 💚

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

If you have any questions please send them in my ask box

[swan--writes]

keep in mind that i've only seen one [1] episode of TWN when i say this, but it would be fun to have a fic where it's Geralt's and/or Jaskier's and/or Ciri's perspective talking about a bard who's been steadily becoming more and more popular off-screen, and nobody knows their full name or backstory, and they only use they/them pronouns, so Geralt becomes more and more convinced it's a doppler

but then he goes to confront this bard. hijinks ensue, the bard seems to have no idea that Geralt is throwing test after test their way. finally he just comes out and accuses the bard of being a doppler and asks what they're playing at, and the bard just starts laughing

finally they calm down enough to tell Geralt that they're very much human, they're just fucking nonbinary, and they're very pleased that nobody seems to be misgendering them

#and then it never comes up again #and the bard goes on their merry way #and has stories that have nothing to do with being nonbinary #just #more casual representations of the fluid nature of gender in high fantasy please #twn #the witcher #the witcher netflix #twn fanfic #the witcher fanfic

[jaskiersvalley]

Cookie Cutter Boyfriends

The bakery wasn't new to the area but Jaskier was constantly surprised by the variety of people who came and went. There were a couple of regulars but fewer than he'd anticipated. Some people he wished would come back, others he was glad to see go. However, the two beefcakes that just walked in, Jaskier prayed to any listening deity that they would be back repeatedly.

"What can I get you gents?" Jaskier asked with his most winning smile.

Eyes like molten honey scanned the selection and Jaskier wanted to tuck the strands of white hair behind the man's ear to see his face better.

"Cookies. The personalised ones."

"A fine choice," Jaskier trilled and pulled the tray out. "I can put any name or message on there for you. Even a phone number, if you want to give it to a special someone."

So maybe Jaskier was flirting and hoping for a number from the man for himself. But it seemed to fall on deaf ears.

"Write Eskel on one," the man said, carefully spelling out the name while the other smiled at him indulgently. It had Jaskier's heart fluttering at the sweetness.

"And what shall I put on yours?"

"You should put a heart on either side of Geralt's name," Eskel piped up with a snicker. He got an elbow in the ribs for it but didn't seem to mind.

Obliging, Jaskier did as told, curling the most perfect hearts he could onto the cookie. Done, he popped them in a box and put them on the counter by the till. "Anything else I can do for you today? Does your, uh, friend want anything?"

Geralt's eyes widened before saying, "He's my boyfriend."

Of course he was, the two looked beautiful together and Jaskier sighed internally. However, he couldn't help but note the look horror on Eskel's face. Hopefully he hadn't accidentally helped Geralt out himself and his boyfriend when they were trying to keep things a secret.

"Well, good for you both!" Jaskier mustered up a smile and nodded at the small rainbow flags by the till. "I sometimes do flag cookies if the mood strikes. Usually on a Friday."

The transaction was processed in silence and at speeds. Jaskier could only watch as the two bundled out of his bakery and, as soon as the door closed behind them, Eskel was asking Geralt something, face torn between despair and entertainment. If Jaskier could trust his lip reading, he could have sworn Geralt had said something along the lines of "I panicked, okay?".

Somehow, Geralt and Eskel became semi-regulars. They didn't pop in on a specific day each week but they were bound to appear either independently or with each other. Each time they did, Jaskier watched them with heart eyes. Eskel was broad, almost apologetically large but kind and gentle. He was quite the sight to behold but Jaskier had an even softer spot for Geralt who really looked like he needed to relax. So, whenever he came by alone, Jaskier slipped an extra cookie in his bag or asked him to be a taster for a newer cupcake flavour.

It was all going well until Geralt came into the bakery with someone new. Another well-built, handsome man but with a sharp edge to his energy. He made a beeline for the display case by the till.

"Please don't knock on the glass, it scares the muffins," Jaskier said by way of greeting and got a bark of a laugh.

"I'll be careful, don't you worry. It's Geralt you need to keep an eye on."

Which Jaskier diligently was. Well, he was checking out Geralt's backside. Tearing his gaze away, he cleared his throat.

"I'm glad Geralt has brought a friend along today."

"Friend?" The man stood up straight with a hand over his heart. "Geralt, what have you been telling people? I'm his boyfriend!"

Which just didn't compute. Geralt had called Eskel his boyfriend. The mild panic of figuring it out was interrupted by a low growl of "Lambert" that was both a threat and fond exasperation.

"What might people think?" Lambert cried out dramatically. "Are you ashamed of our love?"

A hand clamped on the back of Lambert's neck and Geralt stood next to him, not letting go. "Jaskier, a couple of dark chocolate and ginger cookies please and a tray of lemon muffins."

Hastily putting everything in boxes, Jaskier tried not to let his imagination go too wild. Maybe Eskel was Geralt's boyfriend but so was Lambert. It wasn't unheard of really. It gave hope to Jaskier that they might take a liking to him and invite him home for a wild night. He could only watch as they walked out and the first thing Geralt did was cuff Lambert on the back of the head.

Things only got more weird. The next time Geralt was in, he was trailed by another man. Lithe, seemingly on the edge of bursting out giggling and he made a beeline for the counter.

"You're Jaskier, right?" The man held a hand out. "I've heard so much about you! I'm Aiden, Geralt's boyfriend."

Face schooled into something carefully blank, Jaskier nodded. "A pleasure to meet you."

"I think the pleasure is all mine." The wink was followed by a blatant once over and a low whistle. In the background Geralt closed his eyes, jaw twitching as he visibly counted backwards from ten. This time Aiden was the one who asked for a dozen cookies with an array of pride flags on them, two of each, pan, bi, ace, nonbinary, trans and demi. Oddly, the polyamory one Jaskier had started making since meeting Geralt and his boyfriends was left unrequested. The two left and Jaskier rubbed at his temple, trying to figure out just how four incredibly attractive men had found happiness with each other.

Only a week later Jaskier was waiting for a customer to make up his mind. He was the most silently intense man Jaskier had ever encountered and he really wished he'd hurry up and leave. Alas, he was taking so long, looking over everything in the display cases like the choice was of the utmost importance.

"I'll take two cherry and almond slices."

Cutting said cake, Jaskier was relieved and hoped that once the man had gone, he'd not be back again. The sound of the bell above the door had him looking up and Geralt stood there, alone for once. However, he eyed the man by the counter with a closed off expression which remained as the man took his slices and walked past Geralt, shoulders brushing.

"Geralt.

"Cahir."

It was awkward and Jaskier tried not to pry. But curiosity won out. "Another boyfriend."

From the door Cahir laughed. "He wishes."

For a moment Geralt stared at the ground before squaring his shoulders. "They're not my boyfriend. They're dating Eskel."

Immediately Jaskier adjusted his internal monologue to reflect the new pronouns. Though what Geralt just said made no difference.

"Are they a paramour to your polycule?"

"No." Geralt shook his head firmly. "Cahir and Eskel are a couple. So are Lambert and Aiden."

Not understanding, Jaskier wet his lips and cast a glance around. His eyes landed on a familiar group on the sidewalk outside the shop, making no attempt to disguise the fact they were all watching. Cahir and Eskel were leaning shoulder to shoulder as they munched on their cake. Meanwhile Lambert leered and Aiden sent him a thumbs up.

"I'm not sure I understand," Jaskier said. "I thought you said they were all your boyfriends."

Feet shuffling on the spot, Geralt cleared his throat. "Lambert and Eskel are my brothers." Which made even less sense and Jaaskier hummed, desperately trying to understand without asking whether Geralt really just admit to being in an incestuous relationship.

"I'm not dating any of them."

But you said-"

"I panicked." Geralt was watching Jaskier intently. "You were cute, flirty and I panicked. I wanted to ask you out."

A giggle bubbled out of Jaskier. He couldn't quite wrap his head around it but that wasn't a problem in the moment.

"Well then, how about a personalised cookie, on the house?" He grabbed Geralt's favourite and, with a flourish, wrote his own name and number on it, dotting the 'i' with a heart. Handing it over, he smiled. "I told you these cookies were great for phone numbers."

Outside a cheer went up as Geralt's family decided that the outing had been a success.

#geraskier #lambden #eskhir #geralt/jaskier #lambert/aiden #eskel/cahir #geralt of rivia #jaskier #lambert #eskel #aiden #cahir mawr dyffryn aep ceallach #fake dating #pining #tldr: geralt panics and claims many boyfriends

[samstree]

Just a Little Pretense

Jaskier and Geralt stage a fake breakup. Someone’s feelings get hurt for real.

The reverse trope series: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5]

AO3

“… It would be to take you off my hands!”

Geralt’s voice echoes in the ballroom, between the tall walls and the high ceiling. Everyone on the dance floor has fallen into silence. Even the band has stopped playing, their lead singer gaping with round eyes.

Jaskier blinks, impressed.

All the eyes are on the two of them. Jaskier’s back prickles with the gazes. As the fight escalated, more and more guests have stopped dancing just to eavesdrop on the witcher and the bard, the most peculiar couple in the room.

Which is just perfect. The more people witnessing their breakup, the more awkward it will be afterward, and the easier it will be to get out of this tedious party. And here Jaskier is, regretting ever having doubted his dear witcher’s ability to perform.

Who would have thought Geralt is a method actor? Drawing inspiration from a past argument is ingenious.

His old acting professor back in Oxenfurt would approve of this. The show is going swimmingly and he is pumped with adrenaline—maybe he should go back on stage one day, do a play or two.

But alas, he can muse the idea later. The show must go on.

“Really? Just like that?” Jaskier croaks, seemingly on the verge of crying. He’s not so bad himself, classically trained and everything. “Thirty years, Geralt. I followed you for thirty years, and just like that, you will kick me out of your life? Did I ever—” he breaks off with a whimper. “Did I ever mean anything to you? Or were you ready to cast me aside this whole time?”

A tear rolls down. His lips wobble. The crowd erupts in hushed murmurs and sympathetic sighs. The set-up, the build, everything has been perfect. Now the only thing left is for Geralt to break things off, and the two of them can ride into the metaphorical sunset and never see this court again.

Jaskier waits in anticipation, but his witcher opens his mouth.

And closes it.

Geralt looks as upset as he should, angry and torn and equally shocked, his golden eyes wide and his jaw clenched tight. It’s a nice picture to paint for the audience. They are supposedly having the biggest fight in their lives and his body language is very convincing.

More than convincing.

Except, it just might be … too convincing.

Wait—

Jaskier focuses on Geralt, who looks as if he wants to shrink into himself, his shoulders slumped and arms drawn in. He looks as if he’s waiting to be struck. Wait, something’s not right.

“I can’t do this.” A whisper leaves Geralt’s lips, small and achingly sad.

It’s not the line he’s supposed to say.

Geralt’s eyebrows droop ever so slightly, and there’s a flash of distress behind the molten gold. It’s gone in a second, hidden behind a façade of indifference.

The tells are subtle, near imperceivable to the untrained eye, but to Jaskier, they are clear as day—Geralt is hurt. For real.

Oh.

Fuck.

“Geralt,” Jaskier tries, instantly snapped out of his character.

And yet, there’s no reply. Geralt lowers his head, turns around, and flees the scene within one heartbeat and the next. The crowd is too eager to make way for him.

“Shit,” Jaskier curses, ready to chase after Geralt, but the Countess de Stael appears out of nowhere with a flock of maids and positively blocks him in all directions. She’s eager to lament the loss of love and companionship, and to offer Jaskier a place at her court once again. Oh, shit.

Jaskier brushes her off, all the while painfully remembering he and Geralt’s goal from the beginning—to use the breakup as an excuse to get out of this place.

Well, the plan is shit. Is it too late to notice?

Weaving through dozens of nobles is a lot more difficult when they all want to extend sympathy, and Jaskier is only placating them absent-mindedly, faking regret and heartbreak. His mind is full of his witcher, who is either brooding or spiraling over the venom he spewed earlier.

The truth is, Jaskier has long forgotten about the mountain—not because it didn’t hurt. To be shunned by Geralt, blamed for everything, and denied friendship, was the worst thing to have happened to him at the time. It’s just that Jaskier has forgiven it, so long ago and so completely.

Jaskier cannot get to their room fast enough, and when he pushes open the door, the sight of Geralt’s dejected face is a stab through the chest. The witcher is perched on the bed, somehow looking a lot smaller than he is.

Jaskier never should have come up with the stupid fake breakup thing, never should have inadvertently reopened the old wound. They healed, together. They shouldn’t be hurting anymore.

“I explained. We can leave now,” Jaskier tires, but in fairness, he doesn’t remember what he said to the Countess. “Geralt?”

The witcher himself crosses his arms, hugging his midriff and avoiding Jaskier’s gaze. “Good,” he answers curtly, shoulders still tense.

He looks angry, and when Geralt is angry, it’s most likely with himself. Oh, whatever heartbreak Jaskier acted out earlier, it’s not a match to a fraction of what he’s feeling now. It must be the one millionth time Geralt’s self-loathing has broken Jaskier’s heart, and it never gets easier, not when Jaskier caused it himself.

“Hey.” Jaskier desperately wants to wrap his arms around Geralt. So he does. He sits down on the bed and pulls his witcher into the biggest bear hug, which is returned immediately and so very tightly. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s okay. I’m sorry. I fucked up, Geralt. I’m—”

“Don’t be.” Geralt buries his nose into Jaskier’s neck and shakes his head. “I never should have said those things, Jask. I should be the one apologizing. It was wrong and untrue and I would never abandon you. You are my best friend. How can I ever? Please, believe me…”

Geralt trails off, his hands rubbing circles into Jaskier’s back. Although it’s unclear who he’s trying to soothe.

“I know. It’s okay. I know,” Jaskier murmurs, over and over again, sealing each reassurance with a kiss pressed into silver hair.

“I never meant it, Jask.”

“I know. It was fake. We were pretending.”

Geralt pulls away, golden eyes dead serious, pausing between every word. “I never meant it.”

Jaskier meets his gaze unwaveringly, with not an ounce of doubt. “I know.”

They stay there for a while, just holding each other. Geralt keeps sniffing Jaskier’s scent the same way he always does to check for injury or distress. He thinks he’s subtle, the sweet man, so Jaskier never mentions it.

Despite what an outsider might assume, Geralt is the sensitive one between the two. He’s so careful when it comes to their relationship, especially after the mountain and sometimes to his own detriment.

He’s so scared of hurting Jaskier again.

“I was an idiot for suggesting it,” Jaskier breaks the silence, nudging Geralt in the knee.

Geralt hums, lips pursed.

“Fake breakup is a terrible idea. Next time we’ll just grit our teeth and sit through the month-long party.”

Still, no smile.

“Alright, you win. Next time I won’t take you to a month-long party to start with.” Jaskier gently pats Geralt on the cheek. “For your delicate sensibilities, darling.”

Finally, finally, Geralt’s lips turn upwards, just a smidge.

“You are an idiot,” Geralt says, the crease between his brows fading. “Just…don’t make me make you cry again.”

Melting into the warmth welling up between his ribcage, Jaskier leans forward and presses a tiny kiss at his witcher’s forehead, so softly as if he’d break with any more force.

“Yes, dear.”

Being careless with Geralt’s heart is a mistake that Jaskier never wants to repeat. As he put a hand over his witcher’s languid heartbeat, Jaskier feels the soft thrumming against his palm, and realizes just how terribly he needs to guard it with the same care too. Against his frivolous self, and against the past that never seems to stop haunting them.

Because Jaskier needs this thing between them to work. If a faked breakup already seems unbearable, he shudders to imagine a real one.

A witcher’s life is already riddled with pain and sadness and could-have-beens. A poet would hate it if he added himself to the list.

---

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod @kuripon

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #reverse trope #fake breakup #geralt x jaskier #post mountain #hurt/comfort #geralt of rivia is a sap #soft jaskier #jaskier is an idiot #don't mind him #established relationship

[witchersgoldenbard]

Jaskier has been working non-stop on their essay and is in desperate need of a break. Geralt and his cat take care of them and make it better.

wc: 2.3k | tags: modern au, high school au, teenagers, nonbinary jask, cat roach is the real mvp, soft boyfriends in love, good papa vesemir

in relation to this post & beta by my most beloved @daisyyydaisyyydaisyyy 💛

Usually, Geralt loves watching Jaskier work. And watching them is a must indeed, because once Jaskier starts focusing on something, chances are they might not snap out of it until several hours later with dry eyes and an empty stomach. So, Geralt takes it upon himself to take care of them, place a mug of coffee beside them on normal afternoons, hot chocolate when Jaskier requires sugar, and tea when caffeine and sugar would only lead to an unnecessary amount of extra energy. Sometimes he even gets Jaskier to look up from their laptop and give him a grateful smile before they snap back into hyper-focus.

Today, though, Geralt is concerned more than endeared. Jaskier is staring, hasn't moved in the past five minutes, and a low whine is slowly tearing itself from their throat. The Whine Of Despair, the Whine Of Hungry, the Whine Of Geralt Please I Need A Break. They're even sitting at Geralt's desk today, which is when they both know things are serious and Geralt has the instruction not to interrupt them unless the house is on fire or someone's dying or Roachie wants cuddles. Priorities, Geralt. But it's the whine that breaks through Geralt's resolve to let his boyfriend power-work on his essay in peace, and he gets up from the bed with a sigh. He gently places Roach on the douvet, receiving a content burbling noise that makes Geralt smile as he boops her nose. She lets him. He boops her again before Jaskier's whine picks up again and he remembers what he was about to do.

He walks up to Jaskier, shuffling his feet on the floor in an attempt to not startle them, though it does seem futile as they still haven't moved, haven't even twitched where they're sitting. Now that Geralt stands behind them, he sees that they're not even scrolling in their document. They're just sitting there. Staring. Completely out of it, and whining.

Geralt bends down and gently places his hands on their shoulders which makes them flinch instantly.

"Sorry," he whispers and rests his cheek on the crown of Jaskier's head. "I tried not to startle you, but—"

"No, no, it's fine," Jaskier mumbles and leans back into Geralt's embrace. Their neck cracks when they do, and it leaves them both wincing.

"You're taking a break now," Geralt decides, his hands moving from Jaskier's shoulders to their neck to massage away the tension before he turns it into a proper embrace, just holding Jaskier for a moment.

Jaskier's protest comes belatedly and is only half-hearted. "Noo," they whine, not at all trying to get out of the embrace and back to their essay. "I have to finish this by midnight, Geralt."

"And you will," Geralt promises them, his voice calm and full of conviction because they both know Jaskier will absolutely have this eight-page essay written within two days and finished by tonight. They always do. That's part of the problem. Geralt sighs. "I know you will, but you haven't eaten anything since breakfast, and coffee is not a meal, Jask. I'm taking you downstairs now and then you eat."

"Geralt, no, I can't," they sigh and actually do make an attempt to lean forward and get back to their laptop, but Geralt is holding them close with a huff. "Come on, let me, please. This has no structure, it's barely coherent let alone cohesive. I already have two pages too many and am barely even close to having all points covered. And I don't even know what I'm talking about because I cannot read the primary literature."

Jaskier is actually about to cry from this, Geralt realises, and he holds them closer.

"I cannot read, I cannot process any kinds of information. My brain is foggy and my head hurts because I keep trying to make sense of it but I cannot, because I'm just talking out of my own ass here, and I will absolutely fail this, Geralt. I might get an A, I might get an F, and I couldn't even tell you the difference right now because everything is blurry and I need... I need... I just. Hmm." They whine, and Geralt knows how it is, so he lets them.

"You need food. And you need a break. And you need to go annoy Lambert and let me work on this for a moment so I can tell you that it's not bad at all and that you're brilliant as always. And you need to let me fix this for you while you rest, okay? I make the rules now."

Jaskier sniffles, and their voice sounds hoarse when they say, "Geralt, no."

"Geralt yes," he whispers and presses a kiss to Jaskier's hair when he retreats. "Come on. Food."

Jaskier lets him take their hand, but they stop him before he gets to take three steps, pulling on his hand to pull him back in and into a hug. They wrap their arms around him like they usually do when they need Geralt to take the reins for a moment because they physically and mentally cannot take care of themself right now. Geralt smiles and runs his hand through their hair, loving the sensation and the rumble in Jaskiers's chest that almost rivals Roachie's purr. Almost.

"Thank you," they whisper, and Geralt smiles.

"I've got you." He holds them for a moment before stepping back and taking their hand once more. "Come now, I'm gonna make spaghetti."

And the way Jaskier's eyes light up at that, Geralt knows this is the right thing to do. It might cost them an hour of potential productivity, but no essay is worth starving over. No essay is worth getting intense brain fog over — even though that is easier said than done.

Roach follows them downstairs and into the kitchen, which allows Jaskier to coo over her and baby-talk with her while Geralt gets the water to boil.

"You're a baby!" Jaskier exclaims, and the warmth spreading in Geralt's chest is almost enough to overwhelm him. "The bestest baby in this whole world, Roachie. Woachie. Woachie-boo, I am so jealous that you don't have to write stupid essays on stupid things and can just... Yeah, you're right, let's just lie down together. You're so smart. So smart, Roachie! Geralt, your cat is very smart!"

In the kitchen, Geralt snorts as he puts the spaghetti into the boiling water and listens to his love talk nonsense at and about his cat. Gods, how he loves them both so much, it makes his hands tingle and his cheeks hurt and—

"What's happening here?" comes Vesemir's voice gently from the living room area where Jaskier and Roach have disappeared, separated from the kitchen only via an open doorway.

"Ves!" Jaskier says and Geralt can hear shuffling. He chances a glance at the spaghetti in the pot before he pokes his head into the living room area, only to see that Jaskier is getting up from the floor. "Hello! What a coincidence that I should run into you, but now that I did, would you kindly tell your son that he should just let me work on my essay instead of making me eat food and then fixing it for me himself?"

Vesemir blinks at Jaskier, then meets Geralt's eyes with a raised eyebrow. Geralt is shrugging with a smile, wooden spoon still in his hand. His father returns the smile and directs it at Jaskier, speaking after a moment of silence. "Well, firstly, you know there's no stopping Geralt from taking care of someone just the way he intends to do it. Secondly, I think you would do the same for him, son, so I doubt you have a leg to stand on. Go annoy Lambert and let him do this for you, hm?"

Vesemir's smile and the pout on Jaskier's lips beneath that adorable blush are really making Geralt's cheeks hurt and his whole arms tingle, and he takes that moment to turn around and make sure the spaghetti don't stick to the pot, distracting himself from the almost overwhelming warmth and joy and love he's feeling. Happiness, he thinks. Before he knew Jaskier, happiness had never felt like tingling arms and lightness in his chest that made him wonder if he could still breathe. He doesn't know how Jaskier does it, but he knows it's almost the same for them.

Geralt sighs and smiles down at the spaghetti. He should make a sauce, but he doesn't want to. Jaskier prefers any kinds of noodles with cheese only anyway, and Geralt doesn't really care for the taste of tomatoes right now.

They eat on the couch and Geralt preens at the sight of Jaskier, visibly less tense and more lively than he was just a few minutes ago up in his room, chattering idly with Roach in between bites – though thankfully not while their mouth is still full. Yeah, this was the right decision, Geralt thinks, and nudges Jaskier's foot with his own, earning a beaming smile.

Once their afternoon lunch break is done and Jaskier has had their second helping, Geralt is being regarded with a squint.

"What?"

"You're not fixing my essay for me," Jaskier says, and it's almost a dare.

Geralt stares back. "Yes, I am."

Jaskier holds his eyes for a while, then they sigh. "Fine. But I'm taking Roach!"

The cat in question only chirps as Jaskier picks her up, and she settles into their arms like she's prone to do when someone is in dire need of kitty cuddles, as Jaskier loves to call it. Roach seems to have a sixth sense for that, and Geralt reaches out to pet her, making her purr against Jaskier's chest, which in turn makes Jaskier giggle.

"Love you, Roachie," they say in unison, looking up at each other in shock and mirth before Jaskier giggles again and Geralt leans over to press a kiss against their cheek.

"Love you, Jask," he whispers, and Jaskier only hides their face in Roach's fur.

It almost makes Geralt burst with everything he's feeling. He's glad it's not too much, not too overwhelming. It's just nice. Great. Wonderful.

He's so in love.

"You can keep Roach," he says once he trusts his voice enough not to waver in the face of everything that's bubbling up inside him now. "But I don't wanna see you in my room before a whole hour has passed, understood?"

Jaskier frowns. "Yow want me to go annoy Lambert for an hour?"

"He won't mind. And he likes hanging out with you, you're his favourite right after Ciri. Don't tell him I told you, he's going to kill me."

"Are you not his third favourite, then?"

"No, third favourite is actually the shiny rock outside beside the door."

Jaskier thinks for a moment, then nods sagely. "That is a good rock."

"My words exactly," Geralt says, grinning. "He won't mind, I promise. You do deserve a break — please take one? I've got this, I promise you."

Jaskier thinks for a moment, then sags on a sigh. "Okay. But only one hour!"

In the end, Jaskier doesn't last a whole hour.

Geralt is sitting on his bed, editing Jaskier's essay that is by far not as bad as they made it out to be, even if it is a bit rambly and redundant in some places that are easily reduced to concise statements without further ado. He has just reached the seventh of ten pages when he hears the door opening slowly, hesitantly. A glance down at the time tells him that it's barely over half an hour that has passed, but he looks up to see Jaskier looking at him with big, round eyes.

"I swear I will shut up and let you work. But can I come in?"

Geralt smiles and melts a little bit inside. "Of course," he hastens to promise them, shuffling on his bed to make room for them, a subtle invitation that Jaskier seems glad to take. Roach is not with him, so Lambert must have demanded payment in kitty. Geralt grins down at Jaskier's laptop and continues his work.

The bed dips beside him and before long, Jaskier has unceremoniously taken up space behind Geralt, wrapping their arms around his middle in a secure hold. Just holding. Not pushing and pulling, not looking over Geralt's shoulder at his laptop to see what he's editing in or out, not speaking at all.

Geralt leans into his hold for a moment, letting Jaskier know this is okay, this is welcome, this is good. Jaskier hums but does nothing else.

It's quiet in the most comfortable, companionable way that only gets broken when Geralt has finished Jaskier's essay and promises him that all he has left to do is write a conclusion and fix his formatting.

Still, Jaskier does not move, their cheek still pressed to Geralt's back and their arms still wrapped around his middle. "I love you, do you know that?" A sniffle. "You are the best. Miraculous. Wondrous. Wonderful. Beautiful. Just so... full. You make me feel so full, and I don't know how you are so incredible. But you are. And I love you and just... Thank you."

It's Geralt who moves, twisting in Jaskier's hold until he can wrap his arms around them in turn and run his fingers through his hair again. "I love you, too. And you're welcome. Anytime, okay?"

Jaskier nods, and Geralt smiles.

"You make me feel full, too, you know? One day I'm gonna burst and you're gonna have to clean up after me."

Jaskier huffs, warm breath against his throat, and shrugs. "Worth it. It'll be pretty goo to scrub from surfaces."

"You're a goof," Geralt laughs.

"Your goof."

"Hmm."

*

tagging: @natilieal @meebles @karolincki @herostag @wherethewordsare @dunroamins @alllthequeenshorses @horsedadgeralt @toboldlynerd @boyslikewolves

#geraskier #jaskier #geralt #the witcher #nonbinary jaskier #nonbinary character #nat writes #high school au #wait there were people who wanted to be tagged for high school au stuff. was it you dunroamins and alllthequeenshorses? #if not and i tagged you for naught then i am incredibly sorry i hope you have a wonderful day #hello i am completely overworked and burnout-posting this at way past 2am as per usual lmao

[jaskierswolf]

I had a bad day, so I'm projecting that onto enby Jaskier. Set post-mountain.

CW: minor misgendering and general coming out anxiety, also minor mentions of Jaskier's s.2 outfit if you're trying to avoid spoilers!

________

Jaskier plucked at their lute behind the screen hiding them from the audience, not because it needed tuning but because they needed something to do with their hands. As reigning champion of the annual Redanian Bardic Competition, Jaskier would be performing last, but there had been a few changes in their life since last year.

For one, they no longer travelled with one Geralt of Rivia, and two… well… they finally felt comfortable enough to explore their relationship with their gender. Apparently, having their heart ripped out on the top of the mountain had torn them from their comfort zone enough to start having a nice little moment of introspection once they had been freed from the shadow of their former best friend and his sorceress.

It wasn’t as if Jaskier was entirely surprised to find they liked identifying somewhere that wasn’t quite male or female. They’d always enjoyed fineries and jewelry that were designed for women, and they’d hated the emotionally stunted side that men had to show. They’d always just assumed it was because they were a bard, and bards were above such nonsense.

Priscilla had been the first to know. Jaskier had spent a good month crying on her shoulder whilst they tried to mend their broken heart, and it had been in a uncharacteristically quiet voice that they’d asked her to refer to them using they or them pronouns.

Priscilla had accepted it without any problems and Jaskier had started crying anew. They soon realised the lightness in their heart was more to do with setting themself free than the witcher, and had jumped into a nonbinary lifestyle and never looked back. Even Valdo had muttered something about Jaskier being the last to know and flipped to the correct pronouns without any fuss at all.

“Darling, you’ve been using a non-gendered name for most of your life,” Valdo had told them with a smirk and a roll of his eyes.

“Yeah well,” Jaskier had mumbled before pulling his oldest friend and rival into a tight embrace. “You’re still a bastard.”

“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

And that had been it.

All their friends, apart from one obvious absentee, knew. The world was a different matter. To the Continent, Jaskier was still Master Jaskier, famous poet and troubadour. They were planning on using the competition as their coming out party. Maybe. If they didn’t chicken out.

They would probably chicken out.

“Hey?” Priscilla took Jaskier’s lute from their hands, brushing her lips against their stubbled cheek, and adjusting their hat with a fond smile on her lips.

“Sorry,” Jaskier mumbled.

“You don’t have to do this,” she said, the warmth in her voice infectious and so very calming.

Jaskier shook their head. The ache in their chest whenever someone called them a man or something of that ilk had just become unbearable in recent months. It was time to show the world who they really were.

“I really, really do, my sweet Priscilla.” With a gloomy smile, Jaskier took Pris’s hands in theirs and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. “Wish me luck?”

“Good luck, buttercup,” she breathed softly, light shining in her eyes.

“Ladies and Gentleman!” a voice called from the stage, making Jaskier wince. “Please welcome to the stage your reigning champion, the famed Master Jaskier!”

“Bollocks,” Jaskier whined, burying their face in their hands. The announcement was just salt on the wound, shaking them to their core. “I can’t do this.”

Priscilla just reached out her hand, her long blonde hair falling in front of her face as she tilted her head. “Together?”

They took a deep breath, chewing anxiously on their lips and then nodded. “Together.”

Jaskier strode onto the stage with a bright shining smile on their face, lute in one hand, Pris’s fingers gripped tightly in the other. Their long leather coat flung out behind them in a way that was so delightfully dramatic. Along with growing their hair out and a brand new hat, the coat was part of their new post Geralt and gender crisis look. It might not last forever, but having been stuck in a rut for twenty years of their life… they sort of loved it.

They bowed to the crowd, waving as they licked their lips. “Ah, umm, hello! Hi. I’m Jaskier, just Jaskier. No master, if you don’t mind,” their eyes flicked to the Master of Ceremonies. “Before I start my set, I’d like to say a few words if I may?”

The man frowned but nodded.

“Yes, right, well. You see I- I am neither a gentleman or a lady, and I would very much appreciate it if you could refer to me as they or them or Jaskier. Just not him- her isn’t so bad, but- but… yeah.”

“And I will personally fight anyone who doesn’t respect that!” Priscilla snarled as she glared out at the crowd.

“So will I,” an all too familiar voice growled, one that made Jaskier’s eyes go wide as their heart jumped to their throats. They frantically scanned the crowd until they found the startling white hair.

“G-Geralt?” Jaskier stammered.

Geralt looked at them, a soft smile on his lips that Jaskier hadn’t seen in decades, not since the fateful banquet, before the child surprise, before Yennefer.

“Good luck, Jask,” the witcher called before the Master of Ceremonies cleared his throat, looking rather tired with the whole thing.

“Master Jaskier.” Jaskier winced and the crowd went silent as Geralt reached for his sword. Jaskier had to hold Priscilla back from launching off the stage, desperately shaking their head at the witcher to try and get him to stand down. “J- Jaskier…”

“Yes, yes,” they nodded, smiling at Pris as they squeezed her hand one last time before meeting Geralt’s eyes. “This song is called Fair, I hope you like it.” They began to play, pouring their heart and soul into every note as they gazed longingly at the witcher they had once known so well.

#the witcher #witcher #nonbinary Jaskier #jaskier pankratz #priscilla #valdo marx #geralt of rivia #geraskier #pre relationship #jaskier #wolfie’s witcher writing

[knifewieldingenby]

Trans Jaskier topping? I feel like you'd do a really great job with this. Geraskier if you please.

Thanks for the prompt, and sorry it took me a while! 

cw: nonbinary (they/them) Jaskier, strap on, dom/sub elements, bottom Geralt rights

“Shh, shh. I���ve got you, love,” Jaskier whispered, leaning over to place small kisses along Geralt’s jaw. The man whined and rotated his hips, desperately trying to get Jaskier’s fingers to push up against his sweet spot. For their part, Jaskier only pumped their fingers an inch out two in and out, getting Geralt used to the feeling of being stretched. Sweat pooled in the creases of Geralt’s collar bones.

“Jask, fuck- please!”

“If you want my cock,” Jaskier started, nipping at his pulse point, “you need to behave. Can you do that for me?”

Geralt nodded, a quick jerk of his head. He was panting softly as Jaskier prepared him for their cock, slick fingers filling him up.

“My good boy, so ready to take my cock. I bet you’d let me fuck you right now, wouldn’t you? Push my cock in deep, split you open. You’d make such pretty noises. I think even the neighbors would agree with me,” they chuckled.

“Yes, please please I need you!”

“Hush, sweetness, we’re almost there.” They circled a third finger around Geralt’s rim and pressed it in to join the others. Geralt gasped and clung to Jaskier’s biceps, nails digging ever so slightly into soft skin. Jaskier slowly pulled their fingers out and pushed back in. When they got up to their knuckles they curled their fingers experimentally. Geralt’s eyes rolled and his body rocked back into Jaskier, effectively grinding his prostate down on his lover’s fingers.

“Oh fuck, please, need you now-“ Geralt cut himself off with a loud moan as Jaskier rubbed firmly against that perfect spot over and over. His cock twitched, begging for attention, but he knew Jaskier wouldn’t grant him permission just yet. His body relaxed as Jaskier slowed, stopped, and pulled their fingers out slowly.

“You’ve done so well, pet.” Jaskier leaned down to press a firm kiss to Geralt’s lips, their tongue darting out. Geralt sighed and let his lips part, allowing their tongues to move in a languid dance. Jaskier raked their teeth along his bottom lip and bit it softly before they pulled away. 

“Be good while I prepare myself,” they commanded. Geralt laid back, body relaxing into the bed, and watched with wide eyes as Jaskier prepped their cock. Jaskier slid a hand down and pushed it between their body and the silicone material. Geralt whined audibly as Jaskier slid their fingers through their wet folds, soaking them before they pulled their hand out and stroked it up and down their cock, getting it nice and wet. Geralt was already sufficiently slicked from the lube; this part wasn’t entirely necessary, but Jaskier knew it drove Geralt wild to be filled with their cum. Jaskier lined their cock up with Geralt, teasing the tip in circles around his hole. They pushed in an inch, and out, and back in, relishing the little noises Geralt made, those sounds of pleasure and frustration. He wrapped his legs around Jaskier and tried to pull them into his body. Jaskier stopped, eyes flashing.

“Did I say you could take control?”

Geralt whimpered and shook his head.

“No, I didn’t. Place your feet flat on the bed.” Geralt quickly did as he was told. Jaskier looked down on him with fondness and stroked his cheek. “Good boy. Now, be patient for just a few more minutes and I’ll give you what you need, yes?”

“Yes, sir.”

For all his calmness and control, Geralt caught the quick flash in Jaskier’s eyes at the title, something dark and hungry. They pushed in another inch, waiting for Geralt to relax again before going further. They pumped in and out slowly, getting deeper with each drag of their cock. Soon enough their cock was as deep as Geralt was comfortable taking it. He quivered at the feeling of being so full, eyes locking with Jaskier’s. He could see the unspoken adoration in those blue eyes. 

“All good, love?”

“So fucking good, please jask…”

Jaskier didn’t say another word, simply leaned back, grabbed Geralt behind the knees and hiked his legs up for a better angle, and began slow thrusts that they knew would stroke his prostate. The pressure was just enough to make him moan softly but not nearly enough. He wanted Jaskier to fuck the breath out of him.

“H-harder, please...”

“Is that what you want?” Jaskier snapped their hips suddenly, hitting his prostate dead on. “Do you want me to pin you down and ravage you?” 

“Oh my- fuck, yes!”

They picked up the pace, pumping faster as Geralt shuttered beneath them. They leaned down to lick and suck on Geralt’s nipples, pulling his legs up higher to snap in harder, faster - on a particularly sharp thrust Geralt wailed and wrapped his arms around their back, fingers digging in to leave red marks in their place. 

“That’s it, darling,” Jaskier growled against their breast bone. “Look how well you take every inch of me. You’re fucking desperate for it, aren’t you? My good little slut drooling for my cock.”

“Jask, I can’t -“

“Go on, say it. I know you want to.”

“I want to come on your cock…” Geralt just barely managed to get out. His eyelids fluttered and his brain felt foggy, the ability to think quickly fading. He felt like he was floating, nothing but Jaskier’s body pressed tight against his, sweat-slick skin sliding together, and the constant, intense pressure of Jaskier filling him.

“Tap if you need to stop,” Jaskier whispered in his ear. “Do you understand?”

“Y-yes. I’m so close, please can I touch myself?”

“Yes, love, let me see you stroke that big cock of yours.”

And stroke he did, quickly reaching between their bodies to wrap a hand around himself. He flipped his thumb over the head, spreading pre-come along his sensitive nerves. Everything felt too much and not enough; he was torn between rocking into his hand and rocking back to meet Jaskier’s thrusts. Thankfully he didn’t have to decide, as Jaskier pulled their bodies flush and snapped their hips at a brutal pace. They ignored their own body, the slick dripping down their thighs, the way they clenched around nothing.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop, please don’t fucking - ah!”

His body tensed and released, and he could no longer think of anything apart from the way his hole tightened around Jaskier’s cock as he came hard, head jerking back into the bed, body writhing with pleasure. Jaskier slowed their pace but kept working him through his orgasm, until Geralt’s body relaxed again, the quivering slowing and stopping. Jaskier stopped with it.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous,” Jaskier groaned. And he truly was, sitting pretty on Jaskier’s cock glistening with sweat and long strips of cum, hair messily fanning out around his head. His eyes were on Jaskier but seemed more like he was looking through them rather than at them. Jaskier pulled out slowly, slipped off the strap, and crawled up the bed to rest against Geralt’s side. They gently caressed the back in their hand over his forehead.

“Still with me, dear heart?” They asked softly.

It took Geralt a few seconds but finally he nodded, turning his head to get a better look at Jaskier.

“Can I.. help you?” He glances down between Jaskier’s legs to get his point across. Jaskier chuckled and shook their head.

“Maybe later, after you’ve had some water and food.” They ran their fingers through Geralt’s silver locks and gave him a fond smile. “You were so very good for me, love.”

“I’ll always be good for you.”

“Hmm, even when you’re being a brat?”

“Especially when I’m being a brat.”

“Mm, I look forward to it,” Jaskier’s eyes darkened at the thought. Before their mind could get too carried away they pressed a kiss to Geralt’s lips and stood up to find a rag to clean them up.

#nsft #geraskier #geraskier fanfic #trans jaskier fics #my writing #Anonymous

[rainwolfheart]

Writing prompts

2021-10-31: Not actively taking prompts. I'll update whenever that changes! Just been way too busy to write fic lately.

I'm currently accepting writing prompts! If you send me a DA one, it'll likely be filled on Friday for DA Drunk Writing Circle.

I write in English and French, and I'm comfortable-ish writing dialogue in Spanish. (if you're looking for a french-english translator for a fic, hmu?)

I take any kind of prompt. If you need inspiration, here are a few lists I like: classical literature prompts, DA prompts, DA dialogue prompts, DA codex prompts 1, DA codex prompts 2, Trans Bingo cards, fic title prompts (send me a new title and I'll write a summary, or send me one I've already written a summary for and I'll write an excerpt)

I post prompted fics on Tumblr and repost them on AO3. Please let me know if you want to be credited anonymously on either platform, otherwise I will credit you for the prompt :)

Main DA pairings and topics

Feryn Aeducan x Leliana

Alistair x Dael Mahariel

Anders x Hamish Hawke

Anders x Nathaniel Howe

Branna Cadash x Lace Harding

Branna Cadash x Josephine Montilyet

Gaël x Marfisa Trevelyan

Bethany Hawke x Marijke Kader

Marian Hawke x Isabela

Marian Hawke x Isabela x Merrill

Marian Hawke x Merrill

Nathaniel Howe x Velanna

Isabela x Merrill

Dael Mahariel x Merrill

Josephine Montilyet x Rafael Trevelyan

Dorian Pavus x Rafael Trevelyan

Sigrun x Velanna

Marfisa Trevelyan & Rafael Trevelyan

The Bull's Chargers, Inquisition agents, multiplayer characters (Dalish/Skinner, Charter/Tessa, open to other ships)

Gen: team bonding (especially DA2 cast)

Gen: mage resistance/rebellion stuff

Gen: post-Inquisition Solas-hunting shenanigans (Tevinter Nights vibes)

Gen: crossovers and AUs (I've written Exandria AU and modern AU stuff before, feel free to suggest others)

More details & other fandoms under the cut

I can also write other people's OCs or a generic/ambiguous PC, and certain other characters and ships; don't be afraid to ask! A few notes:

I won't write anything focused on Aveline, Cullen, Oghren, or Sten (unless it's critical of them), or anything pro-templar, sorry.

I'm also not very experienced writing certain characters, such as red!Hawke, Sera, and Vivienne. But I'm up for a challenge!

I am always, always down to write characters as trans. I write Fenris as transmasc and Hawke as AFAB nonbinary unless otherwise specified. My Hawkes, Mahariel, Trevelyan and Kader are all trans.

I headcanon Josephine as ace, so I'm not comfortable writing smut for her.

If you send me a NSFW prompt, I may tone it down to my comfort zone. I'm new to writing smut and prefer vanilla stuff.

Other topics I'm currently open to writing

Check, Please! (Bitty/Jack, Holster/Ransom, Lardo/Shitty)

Critical Role (Allura/Kima, Beau/Jester/Yasha, Caleb/Essek, Caleb/Molly, Fjord/Jester, Keyleth/Vax, Percy/Vex; used to write Caduceus/Fjord and always down to write them as friends or queerplatonic nowadays; OC blood hunter siblings Sol & Hala)

Lovelink (MC x Adam, Ana, Blake, Charlie, Cpt. Muffin['s human], Dahlia, Dominic, Dr. Vile, Jake, Keanu, Milena, Nicholas, Rose, Ruby, Sage, Tiros, Vitoria, Zayn)

Star Wars (Finn/Poe/Rey, Finn/Rose, Greer/Joph, Black Squadron fun times)

The Witcher (maybe? I'm familiar with TW3 and started watching the Netflix show. Geralt/Yennefer or Geralt/Triss)

Bullet-point/short paragraph meta or headcanons (things like "headcanons about the M9's favourite foods" or "which DA story choice do you prefer out of these options and why")

Poetry (free verse or haiku; you can try sonnet, blank verse, etc. prompts, but no promises lol)

Short original fiction (especially high fantasy, fairytale-inspired, historical fantasy, near-future sci-fi, space opera, dystopian)

Very short plays and monologues (I tend toward postmodern/postdramatic/poetic stuff)

#my fic #dragon age #check please #critical role #lovelink #star wars #the witcher

[stardust-kenobi]

Hello there, can i please request a fic with obi wan finding out that his girlfriend (reader) is non binary. Pronouns: they/them Thank you so much Geralt

Hi Geralt! Thank you for your request. I really hope that you enjoy this. I apologize if it is short. I also apologize if its not exactly what you expected. I’m not familiar with writing about this kind of experience, but I’ll give my best try! :)

Your fingers trembled while interlocked with one another. Moisture formed on your palms and you shook them as if to discard your racking nerves. Today was the day you dreaded, yet pleasantly anticipated for so long. Your boyfriend, Obi Wan, was the first person you would come out to as a non-binary individual. This is who you were. You were unashamed, proud, and happy to finally feel like you were your true self. The next step was to tell the love of your life so that you could both move forward.

What if he doesn’t accept me? 

What if he doesn’t understand?

Will he look at me differently?

Will he still love me?

Your brain tumbled inside your head, running over every fear on the tip of your mentality. Obi Wan was compassionate, loving, caring, and so much more than made him such an indescribably amazing man. You had nothing to worry about...but you weren’t going to be convinced until he became aware.

The weight in your hand felt astronomical in the process of lifting it to his quarters’ door. Three gentle knocks followed. Seeing you was always the highlight of Obi Wan’s day, and when you told him you were coming to visit him, his eagerness was evident. Within seconds, and what felt like years, the door flew open to reveal the same gorgeous smile on the same wonderful partner you’ve loved for so long.

“Hello my dear” His voice, as smooth as ever, somehow lowered your rapid heart rate in that moment. 

“Hi” Was all you managed to form off your bitten lips.

“Are you alright?” His eyebrows furrowed when he saw the indiscreet anxiety presenting itself in your expression.

“Oh um...yeah, I’m fine” your words were undoubtedly unconvincing to the man that could see right through you.

“Do not lie to me, y/n” his tone grew stern and worrisome simultaneously.

“I cant…” your breath was shaking through your minimal words

“My sweet girl, whatever it is, everything will be okay” his usage of the word girl flipped a switch inside of you. You knew you had to just rip the band-aid off, and tell him the truth.

“Well, Obi Wan, that's actually...what I wanted to talk to you about” your words trailed out quietly.

“Okay…” he eagerly anticipated your response. His unwavering attentiveness warmed your heart.

“I’m…” you hesitantly began and then shut your eyes tight. Just do it, y/n.

“You’re what, y/n?” He encouraged you to continue your statement.

“I’m non-binary” you blurt out quickly and matter-of-factly. Whew, you thought. At least its out there.

Obi Wan stared into your eyes and then diverted his attention away at the floor for a moment. After he took the time to process what you had said, he then took your still wobbly hands into his own.

“Darling, I’m sorry, but I don’t understand what you mean” He began, your heart sunk, knowing you’d have to explain further. “Can you help me understand?” He pleaded delicately when he saw the dread on your face.

“I’m not a female…” you began.

“Okay” he actively listened.

“And I’m not a male either” you attempted to clarify. “To be honest with you, I never felt like I was either of those things”. You swallowed hard. “So I identify as nonbinary”.

Obi Wan shot a comforting grin at you without saying anything for what felt like forever.

“I’m very happy that you felt comfortable telling me this” He 

“I’ve been terrified of how you’d react”

“Oh no, my love...nothing about your identity could ever change the way I feel about you” he assured you.

You felt tears stream down your face as a result of pure relief and love for your boyfriend.

“So, just to clarify, how should I address you? I want to get this right” He displayed genuine concern and curiosity, which allowed you to open up and be comfortable with your identity.

“If you’re mentioning me in conversation with another person, instead of saying ‘she or her’, you’d say ‘they’ or ‘them’. It is a gender neutral identifier, since I’m neither male nor female.” You educate him with a basic explanation.

“Not a problem at all, sweetheart” He brought his lips to your forehead and tenderly kissed your skin.

“I truly appreciate how well you’re taking this” your tone was riddled with pleasant surprise.

“It would upset me to think you’d expect anything less of me” he became teasingly defensive. 

“I’m sorry, it’s just a huge change, and I understand that it could be jarring for you”

“ A huge change? You’re still my gir-” he cuts himself short. “Oh no, i’m sorry. What should I call you then, love?” Obi Wan’s unconditional acceptance brought you peace of mind.

You giggle at his engagement into the topic. You ponder the question for a moment, realizing you hadn’t thought of that yet.

“Just call me what you’ve always called me...your love” You suggested to him. He nodded in approval and pulled you in tightly for a firm, reassuring embrace.

#Obi Wan #my work #requests #obi wan kenobi fluff #Obi wan x reader #Obi wan Kenobi x trader #Obi wan x non-binary reader

[jaskiers-lutkulele-of-sex]

Rules and Stuff

Hello, multifandom (but mostly Witcher and Stranger Things)-themed kink-writing blog here. pronouns are flexible, they/he/she.

I take prompts, for short fic or not!fic, or discussion, but please familiarize yourself w/ my hard limits etc below

.

Rules:

- 18+ only. Come back when you’re no longer a minor, if you still want to. ESPECIALLY don’t be interacting with/sending me messages if you’re a minor (by most US standards, which is where I live). Boundaries like this are for everyone’s protection. Thank you for respecting that.

- YKINMKATO. Curate your own space. Be excellent to each other.

  If you’re not into what goes on here? Keep scrolling, or block tags, or unfollow/block. This goes for me as well-- I curate my own space, so if you are rude or hateful in my inbox or in replies or whatev, I’m deleting without giving you the satisfaction, and blocking.

  This is obvs a kink-affirming, sex-affirming, no-shaming space. Ace/aro folk are part of the queer community, trans rights are human rights, enby folk are my folk and valid, sex work is work, and black (and other non-white) lives are systemically and actively under attack in my and many countries and they matter. Freedom of religion necessarily includes freedom from religion. Eat the rich.

  Also fiction is not real life. What folk like to engage with in fiction/fantasy is their business, and doesn’t necessarily mean they want or condone those things in real life, and anything to do with their real life is, again, none of anyone’s business unless they choose to share.

pairings, kink list, etc, under the cut.

.

Stranger Things ships

I’m primarily a Steddie shipper, wasn’t really in the fandom when Billy was Steve’s main squeeze. Can do a bit of Ronance or Buckingham, always up for poly stuff. mostly write the fruity four/spicy six/ whatever we’re calling the New Adult bunch these days.

Witcher Pairings/My canon

I’ve seen the netflix series, played roughly half tW3 (no blood and wine yet, sorry Regis folks), read the first few novels, and seen part of The Hexer series.

I primarily ship book/game/or show geraskier/gerlion.

Secondarily, i can get down with Lambden, various witcher/witcher pairings or moresomes, Jaskier/witchers, and Geralt/Renfri

When the mood is right I can do Geralt/jaskier/otherFolks (yen, ciri, renfri, etc)

I’m almost never interested in geralt/yennefer as standalone, same for Jask/Yen

.

and, this is more appropriate here than in the kink section, I am cool with gender exploration and trans and nonbinary characters, but I’m usually going to prefer either a “straight” cisswap (for example AlwaysAGirl!Geralt who has always used female pronouns, or TemporarilyAGirl!Jaskier who ran afoul of a mage and has just this one chance to explore and it Awakens Nothing XD), or if the characters are binary trans then for them to identify as their canon gender (i.e. Transmasc Geralt, Transfemme Ciri), and while I’m happy to write trans or enby versions of the characters who Have kinks, i will not be writing trans and nonbinary stuff AS a kink, if that makes sense. There are other authors who do genderplay like that, and I’m happy to rec some to you if that’s what you’re looking for!

KINKS!

My bulletproof kink is desperation/struggle for/loss of control. I’m talking omorashi, edging, premature ejaculation, accidental knotting, accidental arousal, even scat, emeto, or ovi in the right situations, and those more extreme situ are what inspired having a dedicated blog. if your idea has a desperation angle on it, I’m very likely up for it, or at least up to brainstorm on it.

also good: sounding, sex magic, clothed sex, bestiality (particularly sentient or character-transformed-into types), unusual or non-human biology (incl a/b/o), bdsm or d/s dynamics, knotting gets its own entry cuz it’s lovely, virginity/first time stuff, X-made-them-do-it (sex pollen, fuck-or-die, etc), praise kink,

Fine: lots of things. bloodplay, abdl/ageplay, petplay, underage, incest, dubcon/coersion, cbt/pain play, plain watersports, marking, breeding talk

no thank you: scat play (distinct from the desperation side, I’m talking messing around with it or consuming it, etc), full noncon, unhappy endings, true unrequited feelings as the focus, some kinds of power imbalance, abuse, pregnancy (my opinions on pregnancy in fic vary WILDLY, but 9/10 times it’s got a feminization vibe or a body horror vibe for me, so usually no)

Hard limit: dehumanization, proper humiliation, forced feminization, body horror (incl castration and involuntary body modding), vore, necrophilia

TLDR

I am more of a not!ficcer, or short fills, but you never know what’ll happen. ;) Shoot me an ask or prompt if our preferences align, or ask me if you’re not sure. also. Hello. XD

also also, I Am Soft. none of this is likely to be “true” dead dove content, fyi. The angst is going to get a “good” resolution if I’m involved-- I generally prefer neutral, hea, or hfn type endings, can barely handle bittersweet, let alone folks being legit unhappy at the end. for “proper” DDDNE or WitcherTrashParty stuff, you should probs seek someone like... @ witchertrashpary ... XD Things can be messier here, but not as heavy, if you get me.

#gpoy #witcher kink blogs

[aeide-thea]

tagged by @crushcandles​ in a beautiful circle of reciprocal memery!

birthday: august

zodiac: virgo sun / taurus moon / cancer rising; i don’t, like, Believe in astrology except in the way that some of tumblr did, for a while, which is to say, as a sort of mystical lens through which to focus one’s self-examination, but i’m told the above triad translates into ‘is a perfectionist who tries to hide eir own messiness, values stability and security and beautiful material things, has a lot of Feelings,’ which sounds about right!

last song listened to: i’ve had the amazing devil’s the horror and the wild on repeat for the last... many days, as i know many of us have, but for some reason tonight i got to thinking, all sweetly-nostalgic, about the music an almost-lover shared with me in 2014, and so the answer to this question is actually, a little anachronistically, dave carter & tracy grammer’s ‘tanglewood tree’ (i yearn away, i burn away, i turn away the fairest flower of love, which, oof is that triad painfully on point).

hobbies: …does blogging count as a hobby? i’ve loved and left a lot of art forms in my time, including poetry and classical singing; i really enjoy bicycling, and rock climbing although i haven’t been in ages, and figuring out how to use the largely exorsexist language of fashion to represent my nonbinary gender, which if not a hobby as such is definitely a project! would love to incorporate some more Making of Things into my life, though, particularly in this next housebound stretch of time—might work on turning that fannish ~queer persistence~ design concept into an actual patch or shirt or something, maybe?

last movie you watched: babel (2006), with the fam, which i wouldn’t say was exactly a Representative Viewing Choice—that said, i liked it a little more than i’d necessarily expected, although i kind of felt as though the film, idk, gestured grandly in the direction of some ideas that it wasn’t ultimately quite deep enough to fully encompass?

dream job: lmao that sure is a question! teaching, maybe? i used to tutor and i loved that to bits. previous, mostly-given-up-on answers to this question have included: classics professor; poet (not, as it turns out, actually a Job); carpenter à la @carpentrix​; and just, like, being ian bostridge.

meaning behind url: any classicists reading this have already rolled their eyes and skipped to the next question, because wow did i make a basic-bitch choice of url when i made this blog, but! it’s from the iliad, whose first line in greek is μῆνιν ἄειδε θεὰ Πηληϊάδεω Ἀχιλῆος (mēnin aeide thea pēlēiadeō akhilēos), or in english ‘sing, goddess, the wrath of peleus’ son achilles,’ though why i felt, twelve years ago, that my perblog needed an ~invocation to the muse~ (since the two words i pulled are specifically the ‘sing, goddess’ bit), i cannot for the life of me tell you. tl;dr the sporadic firing of my so-called synapses is actually the ragged fusillade of the western canon.

top 4 ships: god, never ask me my favorite anything, i invariably stall out through a combination of ‘i’ve suddenly blanked on everything i’ve ever liked in my life’ and ‘are these really the most representative options out of Literally Every Possibility Ever, please hold while i do this optimization problem…’ having said that, one possible answer is something like: rms carpathia; the dawn treader; eärendil’s ship vingilótë; and then maybe skíðblaðnir from the eddas, for all your edc needs (since it folds up so it’s pocket-sized)? with honorable mentions going to the argo and to arthur’s ship prydwen from the preiddeu annwn, because i do love me some welsh-flavored arthuriana. but that response is admittedly something of a jade’s trick!

reading: uh, mostly a whole lot of geralt/jaskier fanfiction, lately! and then also the romans: from village to empire, for my sins. (the last Published Fiction i read, since i think that’s what this question is angling for, was ben aaronovitch’s false value, which—spoilers or whatever—i personally found to be much less fun than any of its predecessors, for a number of reasons including (1) insufficient nightingale (and therefore insufficient opportunity for generation gap banter, which has historically been the engine powering these books), not to mention (2) a disconcerting choice wrt how to present a trans character in text, namely ‘having the POV character actively misgender said character in their head until he introduces himself, at which time the narrative switches pronouns’: my personal feeling on this was, why not just skip straight to the introductions, and leave out the mental misgendering altogether? happy to hear out differing reactions, though.)

what food are you craving right now? not super-hungry just at the mo, but i’d take some kind of fancy sweet bun situation—a kardemummabulle, maybe, or else a yeasted bun swirled with, idk, orange and pistachio and some sort of light floral honey? or, ooh, speaking of pistachio, i could totally go for a pistachio financier, maison kayser makes a pretty great one if ‘going outside for frivolities’ is ever a tenable course of action again…

tagging: god, i don’t know, who are new people/people with urls i want explained/people i didn’t tag in the last meme? @oatplant? @giantsquidastern? @the-mirador​? @designatedloveinterest​? @raisedbyhyenas​? @leighway​? @pinehutch​? @reinvent-and-believe​? @obstinatecondolement​? anyway no pressure, obviously, do the thing if you want and don’t if you don’t! <3

#memes #things people have tagged me in #music #tolkienarium #arthuriana #bookblogging #false value spoilers #food cw

[notquiteaghost]

anyway if you have any Thoughts at All about trans n nonbinary witcher headcanons, specifically re transmasc nb jaskier n trans women geralt & yennefer but also just in general, Please tell them to me. i wanna write more fic but i need like... a plot, as well as a big mess of feelings

#yelling at clouds

[romanticwildflower]

I just really love the Bard okay

Name: [REDACTED], Royal Nicknames: Bink / Prince Age: Twenty-Four Gender: Transmasc Nonbinary Pronouns: They/Them [prns.cc] Timezone: Eastern Standard (EST) Other Places to find Me:  - binkmoi on tumblr (main blog)  - wildflower on AO3 Other Relevant Things:  - Blog navigation  - Toss A Prompt To Your Writer

 Things to Know:

 • This blog is not spoiler free.  • BUT this blog is 100% hate free and I mean it. I avoid wank like the plague, so you won’t see any of that here.   • There’s content from all Witcher media types here - primarily Witcher Netflix and the Witcher games - but some content from the original books and The Hexer, along with others, may pop up.  • I am a shameless multishipper. I’m probably gonna ship Geralt with anyone/everyone and there’s no stopping me  • I’ll do my best to keep up a tagging system,,, but I make no guarantees  • I mass reblog fanart. If you’ve posted it, and I find it, I will reblog just about all of it. So if you’re spammed with a whole bunch of notifs, I’m sorry.  (Not too sorry though, I do so adore art.)  • A lot of the content I reblog is Jaskier-centric or Geraskier related, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about or support any other characters or ships. (I just heavily play favorites. Sorry Yen.)

Some more Fandom info stuff below the cut

Fandom Info

The Witcher [Netflix] - Started Watching: January 2020 - Joined Fandom: Immediately - First Character I fell in love with: Renfri - Ultimate Favorite Character™: Jaskier - Prettiest Character: Jaskier Gage - Character I Would Kill for: Ciri, Roach - Character I Would Die for: Yen - First Ship: Geralt/Renfri - OTP: Geralt/Jaskier - brOTP: Jaskier & Yennefer ; Jaskier & Ciri ; Ciri & Lambert & Coen - Saddest/Hardest Death: Roach ; Filavandrel - I Would Sell My Soul For: The bard to get a happy ending, and the characters i love to sTOP DYING PLEASE

The Witcher Games [CDPR] - Started Playing: September 2020 [TW3] - Joined Fandom: Immediately - First Character I fell in love with: Littol Ciri - Ultimate Favorite Character™: Lambert ; Bart - Prettiest Character: Lambert - Character I Would Kill for: Lambert ; Dettlaff - Character I Would Die for: Still Lambert - First Ship: Geralt/Dandelion - OTP: Geralt/Lambert/Eskel [but also Geralt/Emyhr but also also Geralt/Dettlaff/Regis] ; Roche/Iorveth - brOTP: The Wolves & Ciri ; Geralt & Trolls ; Dandelion & Zoltan - Saddest/Hardest Death: Vesemir - I Would Sell My Soul For: Another fucking wonderful brilliant game pls

▸Aided by This Post

#that super duper important tag

[samstree]

36 for kiss prompts and/or 23 from touch prompts?? i'm so happy for your dynamic return!! 😌

Lean on Me

36. “kissing away tears” + 23. “carrying the other one in their arms” from the touch asks. Thanks for the prompt, my dear! <3

In which Jaskier is a stubborn idiot. Geralt is there for him.

(1.4k, aftermath of torture, mentions of blood and injury, panic attacks, vomiting, read on AO3)

---

“Oh, finally!” Jaskier lets out a sigh, his ribs aching at the exhale. “My dear, you don’t know how I’ve longed to see your beautiful face! These two gentlemen—on top of being the rudest persons in the entirety of the Nilfgaardian empire—have the most hideous complexions I’ve seen! Seriously, does being a royal torturer suck away your soul along with your good looks?”

“Shut up, Jaskier.”

Geralt fumbles with the shackles around Jaskier’s wrists, refusing to look up. The motion pulls at the flayed skin a little. Jaskier gasps when one of the restraints falls to the floor. He uses the air to resume his rambling.

“Dull as fuck, they are. It’s always ‘tell me where they are, or we’ll beat you to death’ as if I didn’t infer from their mean faces on the first day. Urgh! So unimaginative! You’d think an army that swept through the continent could hire someone more competent. Professionals, maybe—”

The other wrist comes out and Jaskier abruptly tips forward, his knees giving way. Luckily, strong arms catch him around the waist without a moment of doubt, and Jaskier finds himself face to face with the prettiest amber eyes in the world.

“Hey,” Jaskier says, realizing that he’s bitten his lower lip in a panic. The old wound reopens and he tastes blood. “Did I ever tell you how beautiful your eyes are?”

A gentle hand comes up to push back the hair in Jaskier’s eyes, revealing his forehead and, undoubtfully, the gash there and all the dried blood. He feels exposed like this.

“Jaskier,” Geralt breathes, the whisper too careful for Jaskier to handle after all these days. “You are in shock.”

“What? No, I’m not!”

Jaskier frowns, and struggles on his feet to prove the point. If only his legs would cooperate and stop feeling like jelly. Geralt trails his fingers down to cup Jaskier’s jaw, a thumb hovering over what must be a patch of bruises by his lips. He presses down with the barest touch and Jaskier hisses, which tugs at his ribs again.

Geralt’s brows are knitted together with worry. “I need to get you out of here fast.”

“There’s no need to look so constipated, Geralt dear. I told you I’m fine. This—” he gestures to the tiny torture chamber. “—is nothing!”

With that, Jaskier takes a step towards the door—well, what’s left of it after Geralt smashed through the poor thing. Each step feels like he’s walking on a cloud. His arm rests on Geralt’s shoulder but refuses to lean into his witcher’s solid strength. Geralt doesn’t seem convinced, with a hand still at Jaskier’s waist, just shy of touching his throbbing side.

“Let me tell you, they couldn’t even follow through on most promises. Apparently, the emperor himself gave orders to keep me alive. I’m a valuable asset! So, you see, all the talks of opening me up with those colorful gadgets were nothing but empty threats. I could laugh at those idiots!”

As they stumble out of the room, Jaskier can’t help but get another glimpse of the table full of devices—pliers, knives, a chainsaw, and something that looks like a stack of thick needles, except every five of them are attached to make the perfect shape to go into someone’s fingers.

A shudder runs down his back—not from fear, of course. It’s a draft in the hallway.

“Hmm. And they are the idiots.”

“For messing with me and not finishing the job—Oh, there they are.” Two mangled bodies are barely visible in the dark corner, with blood seeping into the floor. “Did you give them hell? I bet you did. The White Wolf’s wrath is no joke, not when his bard is taken. Not that it was too much of a bother for me, mind you. I’m fine.”

The urge to repeat the word is overwhelming despite the crack in his voice. Jaskier licks at the cut on his lip just like he’s done in the past few days. It was the only soothing motion he could manage while being bound in metal. The warmth of Geralt’s body is miles better, so much so that a disorienting fog is forming before Jaskier’s eyes, darkening the edges of his vision.

“Sure you are. Just…hang on, just a little longer,” Geralt pleads, a bit desperately. For what, Jaskier isn’t sure.

Geralt takes Jaskier’s elbow with his other hand, guiding him forward toward the exit. He’s acting like that again, like he’s around a spooked horse or scared children. Jaskier turns in confusion and rests his temple against Geralt’s cheek, but he’s rudely dislodged quickly.

“Portal,” Geralt warns.

Before Jaskier has time to react, cold wind is cutting into his cheeks and his bare feet sink into thick snow. Kaer Morhen stands tall as always, and Jaskier wants to sag with relief—

Before a spell of nausea hits him in full force, turning his insides into a swirling mess. Jaskier can barely push Geralt away before crumbling onto the icy ground and heaves out whatever little content in his stomach. There’s not much. It’s not like a prisoner’s diet is on top of Nilfgaard’s priorities.

“Portals… Can’t complain when we are in a hurry, right?”

Jaskier chokes out a laugh while trying to wipe away the bile at his lips. The coldness is creeping up on him, making him tremble like a leaf. He hugs the hollow of his stomach, but the involuntary spasms jostle his sensitive ribs again, drawing out a whimper. Everything hurts. His mouth is filled with cotton, his head pounding like fireworks exploding inside his skull.

The next attempt to stand fails, and he ends up in a heap of misery with nothing but the raggedy shirt on his back. Jaskier takes in gulps of air but can’t find any release. His lungs are burning with the aftershock of panic.

It’s like a dam breaking. The reality sinks in, of what could have happened. Of what did happen.

Jaskier knows he’s crying. Tears are rolling down his cheeks with abandon and freezing in the cold air. He can’t hide them, not when he doesn’t even have the strength to lift a hand.

A coat wraps around his shoulders, and Jaskier shudders into the contact. Geralt lowers into his vision, his head tilted so their gazes can meet. Amber eyes are flowing with patience, so much patience.

“All right,” Jaskier finally croaks, “perhaps…there’s a chance that I’m, um, I’m not quite fine.”

Geralt’s palm finds Jaskier’s cheek again, careful not to aggravate the bruises and the broken skin. Their foreheads rest together, and the only thing left in the snowy world is the sound of Geralt’s breathing. The grip on Jaskier’s airway loosens, allowing him to match the achingly unhurried rise and fall of Geralt’s chest. The familiar scent of leather and sweat is in the background, the best soothing balm for his frayed nerves, always.

Slowly, the storm calms.

“That’s it. Breathe with me, just like this. You are safe. I have you now. I have you.” Geralt murmurs into his ear, repeating the last sentence like a mantra. “I have you, Jask…”

There are more tears, but soft lips catch them in a lover’s caress. Jaskier lets himself melt into his witcher’s presence, lets his tears be kissed away.

“What should—” His teeth chatters. The snow is numbing his toes, the tingling bordering on pain. “What should I do?”

The world spins again, but this time upward. Geralt’s arms are so steady as he lifts Jaskier in one swift motion and carries him toward the keep.

“Lean on me. For now.” The corners of Geralt’s lips quirk up into something akin to a smile, but not yet. It looks physically impossible for Geralt to smile right now. “Lean on me, and don’t worry a thing.”

And Jaskier does. He leans into Geralt’s neck and rubs his damp cheek into the scent there. The sniffles don’t go away for a long time. His breaths are still shuddering, but for the first time, there’s nothing Jaskier wants to say.

For the first time, Jaskier only wants to bury himself into Geralt’s coat, into the quiet safety of his favorite witcher, and ease his mind into oblivion.

---

Tagging: @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard​ @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #hurt jaskier #jaskier whump #cw: blood #cw: panic attack #cw: vomiting #cw: torture #geralt x jaskier #soft geralt #protective geralt #jaskier being a brat #kissing away tears #hurt/comfort #chrysa your prompt was so soft #but i was in a hurt the bard mood again #oh well #there's nothing i can do #might as well lean into it

[samstree]

number 3 for the casual affection for geraskier? 💛

Exceptions

Casual affection asks: 3. “laying their hand on the other’s leg”

Or, the mortifying ordeal of being known. (read on AO3)

A passionate Jaskier is not to be distracted.

Once the mood strikes, he will go into the most excruciating details on music theory while Geralt resigns to the reality that their night is going to be filled with his bard’s voice. It’s not a bad voice, one of Geralt’s favorites, even.

Although he still hasn’t admitted it out loud.

This part is implied in the tiny smile at the corners of his mouth, one that he half-heartedly tried to hide while Jaskier starts to demonstrate the evolution of playing positions of the lute. An excited flush paints the bard’s cheeks rosy-pink as the lecture goes on, and, of course, ends up in another tirade about Valdo Marx.

“…seriously, if he’s a testament of the teaching quality of Cidaris, I’d say no parent should ever send their child to the coast for music education again! No scenery can make up for the lack of appreciation of art—Geralt, are you even listening? Anyway, the worst part is that the masses are still so taken with him…”

The smile on Geralt’s face blooms. A passionate, rambling Jaskier is not to be distracted.

Except—

When Geralt puts a hand on his lap and squeezes his thigh gently. Amber eyes meet cornflower blue with a quiet plea. That’s how Jaskier knows something is needed from him. Something important.

The string of complaints halts immediately. The only sounds left are the crackling of campfire and leaves rustling in the cool autumn wind.

“What is it?” Jaskier asks, frowning.

Geralt only gazes upon his bard with all the softness in his chest, before shifting his attention to those lips. He leans in, ever so slowly, giving Jaskier enough time to react, to pull away if he wishes to.

He doesn’t.

The kiss is sweet, unhurried, and with the lute between them, even a little awkward. Jaskier lets out a gasp as Geralt pulls away. He chases with a whine.

Geralt makes sure his voice is dark with desire. “Don’t let me interrupt you,” he says and prides himself in the beet-red flush stretching all the way down Jaskier’s neck.

The bard licks his lips. His half-lidded eyes gleam dreamily.

“Huh…?”

Jaskier looks like he’s forgotten every last thought, so Geralt pulls him into another kiss.

 ---

A determined Geralt is not to be stopped.

Especially when the determination serves to protect. One should learn not to interfere with a Geralt trying to keep someone safe.

Although a bard may disagree.

Jaskier wakes to hushed arguing in the room. He’s curled up on his side. The bed is too warm and the pillow too soft. The urge to squirm is overwhelming, but the stitches on his back tug uncomfortably, preventing him from rolling away.

“…I didn’t save your bard from the brink of death again for you to throw your life away, Geralt.”

Is it Yennefer? It sounds like her, so annoyed as usual but somehow always correct.

The mattress dips near Jaskier’s stomach, and he realizes Geralt is perched on the edge. Facing away, he doesn’t notice Jaskier has woken up. “He came after Jaskier once already. I can’t let him do it again.”

“Remember you are hurt just as bad.” Triss is here too, and a lot calmer. “You won’t even be able to cast signs. How do you suppose you can fight?”

Geralt scowls in frustration.

Even from behind, Jaskier can imagine the determined look on his witcher’s face. That’s never good because it means he’ll charge into whatever danger headfirst. Jaskier wants to protest, but all he manages is a pained grunt. A hand rubs soothing circles into his knee, but Geralt doesn’t look around.

“For heaven’s sake. Are the two of you not capable of seeing senses at the same time?” Yennefer growls in return, but a murmur from Triss sends her pacing away. “Don’t make me fight you, Geralt. You will regret it.”

“Then don’t fight me!”

Triss is the one in Jaskier’s view now, her expression displeased but still patient.

“Yenna is right. We better rest, recover, and then make plans for the future. You are being too impulsive to be reasonable.”

As if reason is on Geralt’s mind in this state. Yen’s fury won’t work on him, nor will Triss’s logic.

Jaskier’s face scrunches up in his struggle, but Geralt only tucks in the blanket at his cold feet.

“There’s nothing you can say to convince me. I know both of you are trying to help, but…I need to do this,” Geralt says with finality. “Take care of Jaskier while I’m gone.”

The mattress shifts and Geralt makes a move to leave. Yennefer starts full-on shouting again. In a panic, Jaskier grabs blindly with all the strength he can muster, and his boneless hand land on Geralt’s lap. Tears well up in his eyes, from the wound and from the white-hot fear. The weakest, most pathetic sound escapes his throat, but it’s unimportant. Jaskier has to stop Geralt, even if he feels barely lucid, even if his witcher is an unstoppable force right now.

And then, everything stills.

Jaskier blinks, and all he can see are worried amber eyes, the fight in them completely gone. Warm hands are at his temple, tucking away strands of hair and wiping away the tears.

“Stay.”

The word is no more than a broken whisper, but that’s all Geralt needs. He catches Jaskier’s shaky hand and holds on to it. The promise shouldn’t be this easy, but it is, because Jaskier asked.

“Okay.”

Geralt stays.

---

This prompt is so soft. Thanks for sending it! <3

Tagging: @wanderlust-t @rockysstupidity @flowercrown-bard​ @alllthequeenshorses @mothmanismyuncle @percy-jackson-is-sexy- @constantlytiredpigeon @behonesthowsmysinging @kitcatkim3 @endless-whump @rey-a-nonbinary-bisexual @llamasdumpsterfire @dapandapod

Please feel free to tell me if you want to be removed or added to the list <3

#geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt x jaskier #whump the bard #hurt jaskier #jaskier whump #protective geralt #kissing #hand holding #established relationship #yes i've hurt the bard again #i don't even resist it at this point #might as well lean in

[samstree]

Hi Jin, I love both your fluff and your angst a whole lot so I come offering with either 34."Please don't" or 33. "Are you delirious?” from the Responses to “I Love You” Prompt List for Geraskier 💙

Mend What Is Bound to Break

Some hurt is unavoidable.

Responses to “I love you” prompt list: 34. "Please don't,”

(1k, hurt/comfort, angry jaskier, geralt tries his best, cw: blood and injury, read on AO3)

“I love you.”

That is the wrong thing to say, because Jaskier is growing more agitated.

“Please don’t,” he hisses, shifting away from Geralt on the small bed. The fit is too tight, so even when he ends up on the edge there’s still only a hand’s breadth between their bodies. Stubbornly turning his head away, Jaskier lets out an audible huff. “And don’t look at me with your puppy eyes. I know you are! You’ve fucked up real good this time, mister witcher. Batting your pretty eyes is not going to work.”

Geralt reaches out but thinks better of it. Instead, his arm wraps around the bandaged wound at his side.

The worst part is that Geralt knows he fucked up. In fact, he already knew when he set out for the kikimora with half of his potions empty and that barely healed concussion. The deep gash right below his ribcage is as inevitable as it is painful at this moment.

Yeah. He fucked up real good.

Jaskier is right to be angry. It’s just that Geralt wishes he knows how to deal with an angry Jaskier. A sad one? Sure. Geralt is a connoisseur at lifting his bard’s spirit at this point, but the best trick for that has no effect here—he’s just used it, and made it worse.

Jaskier being this mad at him is a first.

Geralt wants to curse but carefully swallows the urge.

“I’m sorry.” An apology seems to land better. Jaskier still has the back of his head in Geralt’s direction, but he’s listening. “I shouldn’t have done it.”

“What shouldn’t you have done?”

Geralt sighs.

“Not take care of myself.”

“And why?” Jaskier deadpans, his shoulders rigid.

“Because—” Geralt shuffles towards the warmth of Jaskier, but the throbbing pain shoots up his spine. A low grunt escapes his throat. The next thing he knows, cornflower blue is all that’s in his vision and full of concern. “Because it worried you. Made you go into the woods and drag me back all by yourself. Again.”

The worry in those cornflower blue eyes freezes over.

“You think—” Jaskier pauses. “Seriously? You think I’m mad because you inconvenienced me?”

“No…?”

The bard makes an indignant squawk and plops down on the bed, fuming, his face bloated red. The only thing missing is smoke coming out of his ears to paint the full picture of his mood.

“There was so much blood, Geralt.”

The accusation comes out a lot softer this time. Something inside Geralt unfurls.

“I would have healed. Even without you.”

“You mean lying in a pool of blood for days, next to some dead creature and waiting for your mutation to knit your skin back together?”

Geralt feels like he shouldn’t answer the rhetorical question, so he purses his lips into a thin line. It turns out that is the wrong answer too.

“Unbelievable,” Jaskier scoffs under his breath.

“There were people nearby. A family living by the woods. A delay would have been too risky.” Geralt adds to the defense that Jaskier surely has learned from that farmer and his wife. The bard is still staring at the ceiling, his jaw clenched tight.

“I don’t care about other people.”

Geralt takes Jaskier’s hand. There’s still bloodstain under his nails.

“That’s not true.” He frowns. Only the gods know how much Jaskier cares under his frivolous appearance, or he never would have followed Geralt so many years ago. “It’s just…the way of the path. You have to understand that these things happen—”

“I have to unders—” Jaskier draws a shuddering breath, and to Geralt’s horror, the salty tang of tears fills the space between them. When their gazes meet again, Jaskier is crying openly. “As if I don’t—”

A whimper interrupts the sentence. The sight of Jaskier choking back tears is too much for Geralt to bear. He manages to get closer this time despite the stitches tugging at his skin.

“Come here. Please?”

It only takes a gentle pull for Jaskier to curl himself around Geralt, who immediately takes the chance to bury his nose into the crook of Jaskier’s neck and nuzzles into the calming scent of chamomile.

“I’m all right.”

“You almost weren’t,” Jaskier sniffles. His damp cheek rubs against Geralt’s forehead. “When I found you, the way you… Geralt, how can you say I don’t know what a witcher’s life is like? How can I not understand that each time you walk into danger you might not come back to me? How can I not when it’s all I can think about on some days? When I can’t even breathe at the idea...”

Geralt laces their fingers together and brings Jaskier’s hand to his lips, another silent apology sealed into the kiss.

“What can I do?”

After a long stretch of silence, Jaskier pulls back, his eyes still glistening. “I don’t know,” he whispers.

Jaskier’s distress won’t dissipate from the air. It’s not logical too, for him to be upset about something he already accepts as the truth, something set in stone. A witcher’s life is volatile. Geralt can’t promise he’ll always come home, and it’s something anyone close to him must come to terms with.

Maybe it’s not something Geralt can make better, but he can still try.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, inching towards Jaskier. “But it is what it is, Jask.”

When Geralt presses another kiss at the corner of his bard’s mouth, something in both of them sags with acceptance. Jaskier leans into the touch, allowing himself to be soothed.

Puppy eyes, right. Geralt gazes upon his bard with all the softness he can muster, and finally, finally, the furrow between Jaskier’s brows smooths over. Calm resignation replaces any trace of his earlier outburst.

Geralt wants to pride himself in the small triumph, in mending Jaskier’s heart. If only he wasn’t the one who broke it in the first place.

A deft hand hovers over the bandages before resting on Geralt’s hipbone, a thumb tracing gentle patterns. It’s all that needs to ease any pain in the world.

“It is what it is,” Jaskier agrees.

And there’s nothing more to it.

---

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#geraskier #geraskier fic #gearlt whump #hurt geralt #soft geralt #angry jaskier #crying jaskier #established relationship #cw: blood #geralt x jaskier #thanks for the prompt! <3 #this one is fun #and weirdly aligned with an idea i've had for a while #also i'd like to think geralt learns from this experience #and every time jaskier is cross with him he just #use touch and kisses and nuzzles #like an overgrown cat