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loki-is-my-kink-awakening · 9 months

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I wanted to talk about Extraordinary Things and the Geraskier and Radskier elements in the song.

Forgive me if this has been done or is rather obvious. This is just me musing over the lyrics.

Keep your words on ice

Your gaze lights the fire

How many campfires did this happen? Jaskier doing his best to drag even a few words from Geralt while the witcher glares at the fire as if his eyes are stoking the flame.

But eyes of fire really speak of Radovid, too. He may speak more than Geralt did when Jaskier first met him, but there's a lot he doesn't say in words that he says in his eyes.

They say, "Keep on playing nice"

But I have no desire

Jaskier cannot be contained. It's why I love him. He will not be forced into a box. He contains multitudes.

But these lines speak of struggle. Jaskier could be at court if he wanted to, he's a viscount, but he has no desire to be that person. He needs the freedom of the wild.

And the two people that represent this struggle are Radovid (a life at court) and Geralt (freedom/out in the wild). It's kinda obvious who Jaskier is going to choose even without considering what Joey said in interviews (that Jaskier will have a choice, but it isn't a choice for him, he will always choose his found family).

Jaskier has no desire to stay at court, even for love.

Why waste our words

When lips were made for extraordinary things

Jaskier can talk. He can express himself in his songs and with words. But there's some things that can only be truly communicated through a kiss.

And let's face it, Jaskier has waited so long to communicate his feelings for Geralt. He wouldn't waste words any longer, he'd want to show his feelings.

It also links to the later lyrics of unspoken words between them.

With Radovid, there isn't any need to talk because it becomes clear how he feels about Jaskier through singing his song.

But also there is so much they cannot discuss because Jaskier needs to protect his found family.

Kissing Radovid is safer. Jaskier can communicate his feelings that way and can feel Radovid's feelings for him in deeds, not words.

It's not a want, it's a need

It is paying no heed to what others say to sing

Jaskier has never paid any heed to what others said of his songs or singing. But that is also a mask to protect himself.

Geralt told him not to write any songs about him. Jaskier did it anyway.

There's probably others who have told Jaskier not to write songs about them or Geralt that I've forgotten.

But "it's not a want, it's a need" is just so evocative of his heart the love he gives freely, and of him letting his creativity flow through him.

That creativity is something Radovid greatly admires. And I think Radovid also wants to play no heed to what others want him to do; he just isn't as free as Jaskier (the pretty songbird).

Ultimately, what Jaskier really wants is for someone to see him, like he sees others, and for that person to still have a visceral want for him once seeing him.

People have wanted him, his body, his time, his usefulness. Loved ones have finally accepted him as a friend and family member. No one yet has wanted all of him, the magnitudes he contains, the bad parts and the good, the real him. Mainly because he's never had someone pierce his armour.

And if Radovid is using Jaskier I swear to the gods I will rain merry hell on him.

The greatest songs are made up of unspoken words of love

Of them I have had enough

All of Jaskier’s songs contain some element of his love for Geralt. He is his muse, after all.

We all know Her Sweet Kiss and Burn, Butcher, Burn contain it most obviously.

And it's interesting here that we get Jaskier saying he's had enough of writing his love for Geralt. There's only so much you can continue to pour out and not get anything back.

And so, Jaskier has decided that his love for Geralt is platonic as a way to protect himself. If he's not wanting, he can't be hurt.

But we all know when Jaskier said that his love for Geralt is platonic, that it is a lie he is telling himself. Vespula wasn't fooled.

But it's interesting that we clearly see Jaskier longing for the real love he craves in these lyrics. And I don't want to take away the amazing aromatic headcanon for Jaskier or Geraskier having a queen platonic relationship, but there is a longing that is unfulfilled, whatever way you interpret that to be.

That longing can be fulfilled with Radovid.

With you, I have enough

With you, I am enough

I am enough

Again, I see Jaskier saying he is enough with Geralt just to be his friend. After all his years struggling to be his friend and also wanting more, it's interesting to see this friendship now settled as soon as Jaskier stops seeking more.

And a big part of that change between them has to be down to Geralt becoming a father and learning to open his heart to caring about those around him.

But with Radovid, Jaskier gets to be vulnerable, properly vulnerable with his heart. He does feel enough in Radovid's eyes, and that is truly for the first time.

Vespula knows Jaskier, but he doesn't let himself be truly vulnerable with his heart there. He lies about his feelings for Geralt to her (and himself). He gives his body, but does he give his heart? I would say no. They are close in many ways, but not emotionally, not in vulnerability.

Drop the sweet disguise

Your heart's beating too loud

The fairy tales and little lies can't drown out all the sound

We all know about Geralt's disguise: that witchers don't need no one or that they don't have feelings. In S3, we see this façade lift. Geralt shows his true self to Ciri as her father, Jaskier as his friend, and Yennefer as a partner when he forgives her.

Radovid wears a disguise. He's the drunk fool to those who cannot see it. But Jaskier can, because Jaskier also wears a disguise, something Joey commented on in at least one interview.

And I feel like this disguise is definitely shown on screen when Jaskier is with Vespula. He has feelings for her, obviously strong ones, but they aren't the same as his feelings for Geralt or Radovid.

He definitely tells Vespula more than he tells his other lovers. But Vespula isn't looking for Jaskier to be "the only one" for her. She is still pretty switched on about Jaskier’s heart.

So take this heart

And break this heart

For extraordinary things

Geralt has broken Jaskier's heart already. And now Jaskier seems to be settled into the role of friend with his "platonic" love.

And Geralt is an extraordinary thing to Jaskier. Nothing will take that away, not even heartbreak.

But the thing is, Jaskier isn't ready to give his heart truly to Geralt completely. In pieces, yes. The clear barrier of "He's my friend, that's it" has been set (for now).

But with Radovid we see Jaskier let go of his mask, drop down his armour and allow Radovid in. It could very well break his heart, but that won't stop him from loving Radovid.

He has become an extraordinary thing to Jaskier.

For all the years we have watched Jaskier longing, to finally see him with someone is amazing. I don't want his heart broken, but I know we have to accept that it's going to happen.

And here, for the first time since The Mountain, we have Jaskier willing to have it broken again.

Because without taking a chance on being fulfilled and happy, what are we?

Thanks for reading.

#geraskier #radskier #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x radovid #geralt of rivia #radovid #the witcher #the witcher season 3 #the witcher spoilers #extraordinary things #long post

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flowercrown-bard · 11 months

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Ooh, prompts! How about leaves for Jaskel? <333

Thank you for the prompt!

word count: 967

“Snowflakes - white leaves if the cold

I tried to keep them, but never could.

White leaves - and never returns

No matter how much my heart yearns.

In spring, green grows - my jealousy

that sprouts and blossoms, when I see

Him talk to her - “

Jaskier broke off, when his eyes met yellow ones across the tavern. His heart jumped, as for a moment, he was sure, the person he had been singing about was sitting there, in his usual spot in a dark corner. But no. Brown hair framed the golden gaze, not white. And the look in those eyes wasn’t as judging or annoyed as Geralt’s often was, when Jaskier sang about him. Instead, this witcher’s gaze looked intrigued, almost…like he enjoyed the song?

Before Jaskier could be sure he had interpreted the look correctly, the witcher averted his gaze and quickly hid his face behind a tankard of ale.

It was only when murmurs started to arise, that Jaskier registered that the other patrons weren’t taking too kindly to him stopping mid-song. He threw them his most charming smile and said something nonsensical about how inspiration had struck and how a true artist occasionally had to abandon their task to chase said inspiration before it could leave.

He didn’t wait for a reaction to his excuse and quickly made his way to where the witcher was sitting. He was bigger than Geralt, with broader shoulders and a sort of softness to his frame that made Jaskier wonder what it would feel like being held close by this witcher.

He cleared his throat, quite redundantly, as there was no way the witcher would have missed him sitting down opposite of him.

“You looked like you had something to say about my song.” Jaskier tilted his head to the side with a small smile. “Don’t be shy, I can take criticism.”

A lie, if Jaskier ever heard one, but this handsome stranger didn’t need to know.

The witcher’s brows drew together and he lifted his eyes to meet Jaskier’s.

“It’s not a criticism,” he said in a tone so soft that it sent shivers down Jaskier’s spine, though there was a bit of a mumble to his words, as the witcher talked without using half of his mouth. Not that Jaskier could be sure that was what the witcher was doing, seen as he kept part of his face turned away from him. “I was just…you don’t want to hear it. It’s your song, it doesn’t matter what it means to me.” “But it does.” Jaskier leaned forward, tapping his fingers onto the table. “There’s nothing more wonderful than knowing someone finds more meaning in my words than I ascribe them.” The witcher swallowed and his fingers twitched around his tankard.

“In that case…” He hesitated. “I know a thing or two about people leaving.” His lips twitched up into a smile that held no happiness. “Part of being a witcher, I suppose. No one would be willing to spend more time with you than necessary.” “Part of being a bard too,” Jaskier replied softly. “Good for a pretty tune of two, but once the mask falls away, so does any attachment the other person had.” Jaskier hesitated and reached out a hand, until it touched the back of the witcher’s hand. “I’m not sitting at your table out of necessity though,” he said slowly, “and I have the feeling you don’t care much for masks.” “I don’t.” The witcher turned to face Jaskier, the hint of a smile playing at his lips. Lips that were split in half by a deep scar that almost ran up to the witcher’s eye. The smile was shy but sincere, with something incredibly vulnerable to it. Jaskier’s heart clenched in his chest.

“I’m Jaskier,” he said dumbly.

“Eskel.”

Eskel turned his hand, so that he was holding Jaskier’s hand, just briefly, before he let go again.

Jaskier stared down at his hand.

“Do you think people like us could find someone who won’t leave?” He held his breath, as he waited for the answer.

“I don’t know.” Eskel frowned. “But I would like to try.”

–

One night of two desperate people finding solace and hope in each other turned into a week, in which a tentative friendship began. That week turned into months and before either of them was ready for it, almost a year had passed.

Neither of them wanted to leave the other, but here’s the thing: Bards and witchers often get left behind - but almost as often are they the one to leave. The Keep was calling Eskel home and Jaskier had to find a benefactor for the winter, if he wanted to make it through the cold months.

They didn’t want to be left, and neither did they want to leave, and yet, a parting was inevitable.

They embraced each other and as they parted, the both of them kept glancing back at the other, though never at the same time.

It was only when Jaskier was emptying his bags at the room his latest benefactor had given to him, that he found the collection of dried autumn leaves - brown as Eskel’s hair, yellow as his eyes and red as the jacket he liked to wear. A smile spread across Jaskier’s face and he sat down to pen another verse for his song. A song that would welcome Eskel back into Jaskier’s life and arms, as soon as the snow thawed.

Eskel’s leaving still sent a pang through Jaskier’s heart, but this time, he had his leaves as a reminder and a promise that the parting was not forever. They might have to part, but for the first time, Jaskier was sure that they would also meet again, when the spring came and new leaves would grow.

#i also didn't edit this one #jaskel #thank you for the prompt my dear!#jaskier #eskel #jaskierxeskel #witcher #fic #my writing #ficlet

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fandom-junk-drawer · 2 years

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The Witcher Headcanon (Modern Au) - Error 404 Brain Not Found.

Yennefer has no clue how Geralt always ends up getting into odd situations when he's around Jaskier

The Witcher is usually so serious and disciplined, always on guard and watching so he's ready for any threat.

He is usually the responsible one, especially with Ciri.

But for some reason, when he's around Jaskier, Yennefer notices Geralt just kind of ...loses all his braincells.

Losing his braincells is normal for Jaskier, because sometimes Yen is convinced he never had any to begin with.

She wonders what is going on in their heads.

They are just living examples of Why Women Live Longer Than Men

Geralt and Jaskier haved jumped off the roof onto a trampoline. Geralt had been more concerned with the dent he'd put in the side of Roach than with his broken wrist.

They tried to see how many of various food items they could stuff in their mouths.

Run around the house wearing dinosaur masks, and if any mail or food delivery service knocks, they are greeted by two grown men in dinosaur masks, making hissing and roaring sounds.

Drank a big glass of water on an empty stomach so they could wiggle around to hear it slosh.

Tried to slide down the stairs in laundry baskets

Jaskier came home soaking wet because he took his motorcycle through the automated car wash while Geralt recorded it.

All the 'I bet you can't...' games that always ended with minor injuries.

Dared each other to eat random things they found while on hunts or outside, like slime, goo, viscous fluids, pasty goops, bugs, etc.

Made a swimming pool in the livingroom with the two couches and a tarp, filled it with orbeez, and stayed in there all afternoon watching tv and eating pizza rolls. Yennefer had made them find every last orbee after the 'pool' burst and flooded the livingroom thousands of little balls.

Giant Sticky Hand fights

Almost got arrested because Geralt and Lambert had seen Jaskier walking, pulled over, and shoved him into the van. People thought they were witnessing a kidnapping.

Naked Nerf Gun War. It hadn't ended well.

Hover board races in spite of the fact that neither of them had ever been on a hover board.

Have spent an entire day doing the Sprite Challenge. It ended only because Geralt made a sound like a dying humpback whale and they laughed so hard they both vomited.

Made horrifying concotions of various foods and liquids, then had a competition to see was brave enough to drink it.

Tried to epilate their leg hair because "how hard could it be?" The screams... The neighbors had called the police thinking someone was being murdered.

Invited Eskel, Lambert, and Coen over, then sat in a circle, took a mouthful of water and slapped each other in the face with a tortilla. The first one to spit their water out lost.

Made flamethrowers with cans of Yennefer's hairspray and lighters and chased eachother through the house. Yennefer had not been happy.

Spent almost and hour trying to see who could make the loudest, grossest sounding fart noise with their hands or insides of their elbows.

Tried to jump on the bed hard enough to make the other bounce off

Tried to see how many times Geralt could get kicked in the balls before he couldn't get back up.

Streaked down the street in broad daylight, and then couldn't get in the house because Lambert had locked them out.

Have to poke/throw firecrackers/try to burn every wasp, hornet, and ant nest they find. Jaskier's left hand had looked like a Mickey Mouse hand and he couldn't play his guitar for several days after he got stung by a "big a** motherf***ing hornet."

Then there was the time Jaskier somehow convinced Geralt to try on a pair of Yennefer's yoga pants.

How Geralt had even managed to get into them was a mystery. Yennefer had to admit that she was impressed with how well the yoga pants had held up. She couldn't even be mad.

And of course she had taken a picture.

Now every time Geralt calls her, that picture of him pops up on the screen.

And it's not even the full picture of Geralt. It's been cropped down to where it's just Geralt's a** in those gray yoga pants.

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professorjaskier · 1 year

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Wuv the Bard Prompt: Kidfic

Hello everyone! Thanks to @whataboutthebard for hosting such an awesome event with great prompts. Thanks to @sulkyskywalker for beta reading! Read on A03 here

Title: Goodnight my Angel

Prompt: KidFic

Pairing: Jaskier/Geralt and Jaskier & Ciri

Rating: General

Warnings: brief mentions of a house fire and a car crash and mentions of canonical deaths (i.e. Calanthe and Eist)

Jaskier woke with a start at the sound of screaming.

His muddled mind took a moment to take stock of his surroundings. He was at home, in his bed…alone? Ah, right, Geralt was working the night shift again, but the screaming—

Ciri.

Without another thought, Jaskier scrambled to find his glasses on the bedside table and rushed out into the hallway towards Ciri’s room.

Although he had known Ciri since she was a small child, she hadn’t been a permanent fixture in Geralt’s and his lives until recently. Geralt had volunteered to care for the infant nearly a decade earlier upon Pavetta and Duny’s untimely passing, but the courts decided that Ciri’s guardianship would go to her grandparents. Begrudgingly, Calanthe had allowed Geralt and Jaskier to visit Ciri on occasion, but Calanthe had loved jealously and feared that they would take Ciri from her.

Jaskier wished that her fears hadn’t come to pass.

It had only been three months since they had gotten the call in the middle of the night. A house fire, consuming everything in its path and sparing none but Ciri. She’d been theirs ever since, along with the sleepless nights that accompanied her.

Jaskier was no stranger to childhood trauma. As a middle school music teacher he often dealt with children that had seen far too much in their short time on Earth. Even so, -, he had no clue where to start.

Ciri had always been a sweet, energetic child, taking joy from the smallest things around her, but ever since the accident she’d withdrawn into herself. Jaskier and Geralt had tried everything to help; they had gotten her a therapist, tried to make her surroundings to her liking, hell, he had even learned how to bake her favorite treats. Each day the Ciri he knew and loved would peek out from behind the mask, like the sun on a cloudy day, but every night the nightmares returned with a vengeance.

Jaskier skidded around the last corner—grasping the wall as he tripped over the hallway runner—and burst into her room. With a quickness only brought by muscle memory, he flicked the switch, momentarily wincing at the sudden brightness of the room until his eyes adjusted.

The sight that greeted him broke his heart.

As per usual, Ciri was still asleep. In the three months she had been with them, Ciri never woke up from her nightmares naturally. It wasn’t until either Geralt or Jaskier woke her that she was freed from the horrors of her mind.

Jolted into action by another piercing scream, Jaskier leapt across the room and began to softly call her name. “Ciri. Cirilla, darling, open your eyes.”

Jaskier watched as she tossed around on her bed, her youthful face screwed up in terror. He wished to wake her more quickly by placing a hand on her arm, but he had learned his lesson after such an action had sent her straight into a panic attack. Instead, he continued to call out.

“Ciri. Cirilla, you’re safe. You’re in Geralt’s house with me. No one can hurt you here.”

With those words, Ciri shot straight up with a scream, pushing herself into the corner of her bed as her eyes darted frantically about until she caught sight of him. At that moment she launched herself across the bed and into his arms.

“Oh dearheart, you’re okay, I promise. You’re safe, you’re not there anymore.”

The only response he received were keening cries into the crook of his neck as she continued to sob. Helpless, Jaskier continued to murmur reassurances until she finally pulled away and wiped away her tears.

“I’m sorry,” she said with a sniffle, “I keep on waking you up with my stupid nightmares—”

Jaskier shook his head and opened his arms, a silent invitation that Ciri took as she curled up next to him. “Don’t apologize, Love. Your nightmares aren’t stupid. Besides, when you’re as fabulous as me, you don’t need beauty sleep darling.”

Ciri snorted out a laugh and pulled away once more to wipe away some stray tears. “I just want them to stop.”

“Of course, and someday they will.” Jaskier paused, deep in thought before he turned to her. “You know, I used to have nightmares too.”

Ciri’s eyes widened to show her interest even as her silence stretched on. Taking her nod as a signal to continue, Jaskier said, “When I was 10, I was in a bad car crash. I was stuck in the car for nearly an hour before emergency personnel could get to us. I dreamt of being trapped for a long time after and I would wake up my parents screaming for months.”

Ciri sniffled and bit her lip as she processed the words. At least, Jaskier hoped that was what she was doing. The machinations behind an 11-year old girl’s mind were unknown to him.

“But it stopped?”

“Eventually,” he replied, rubbing a soothing pattern along her back, “but it took time.”

Ciri nodded, picking at her cuticles as he waited for her reply. After a few moments, she muttered, “But if the nightmares stop…does that mean I’m forgetting them?”

Jaskier’s heart broke as he looked into his goddaughter’s pale face and he fought back tears of his own. “No, darling. You aren’t forgetting them because you’ll still remember the good things everyday. You’ll remember your grandmother’s ferocity and Eist’s kindness. You’ll remember the shopping trips and horrible omelets—” He paused as Ciri let out a wet laugh and he placed a kiss at the crown of her head. “You’ll remember. You’ll just heal from the bad, and trust me when I say that’s what they would want for you, princess.”

Ciri nodded as tears streamed down her face. “Thank you, Jask.”

Jaskier shoved his own tears into a box for later and pasted on a smile. “Of course, darling. Now—” he punctuated the word by slapping both hands on his thighs and moving them both into a more comfortable position, “would you prefer a story or a song?”

“A song, please. Could you—I mean can I make a request?”

“Anything, Ciri, as long as I know it,” he replied, stroking his fingers through her long hair.

Ciri took in a shaky breath and moved so Jaskier could see her face. “My grandma used to sing me a song when I was a child when I had trouble sleeping. It goes something like this.”

Jaskier listened as she sang part of a chorus that he knew very well and smiled. “Yes, darling, I know that one quite well. I’ll sing it until you go to sleep.”

Ciri sniffled and leaned her head against his shoulder. “Thanks, Jask.”

“Anything, princess.”

With that Jaskier began to softly sing a tune that he knew very well. A song that Pavetta had loved when she’d been alive.

Someday we’ll all be gone,

But lullabies go on and on

They never die

That’s how you and I will be

Jaskier shuddered as he sang those last words, and let the deep even breathing of Ciri bring him peace. With a smile, he lowered her down onto the bed and pressed a parting kiss to her brow.

Before he could leave, he felt a small hand grasp at his wrist. Turning back he saw Ciri frowning with her eyes still closed.

“Don’t go.”

“Okay.”

Without another word, Jaskier shut off the light and climbed into the bed, letting Ciri curl up close.

Geralt would find the two of them curled up together the next morning, finally home from his shift. He’d smile, knowing that they would be alright.

Everything would be alright.

Let me know if you want to be added or taken off of my tag list!

@meebles, @sulkyskywalker, @herostagsart, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @kuripon, @dapandapod, @officerjennie, @jaskierswolf, @fontegagrilledcheese, @alllthequeenshorses, @stonedstargazer666, @tears-of-a-fool, @natileal, @horsedadgeralt, @wherethewordsare

#wuv the bard #jaskier x geralt #geralt x jaskier #geraskier fanfic #Jaskier is a good dad #the witcher #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geraskier #CW house fire #cw car accident #cw car crash #lindawrites #nightmare #lullaby

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arcaneviolence · 2 years

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the first page of my how to train your dragon witcher au because my autism wont let me not fuse hyperfixations and special interests into eachother like im mixing a muddy colour of playdough

i was gonna make it longer but i new i would just end up burning myself out before i finish it so you get this juicy thing

more of what happened before this and why its happening will be revealed in later parts but if you are curious you can look under the cut for some yummy context

The Witchers live where hiccups mother did in the canon and follow a similiar life style. They still have the trials but instead of becoming witchers, they do it to ‘feel closer with dragons’. Making it much easier for them to comunicate to them. It also makes dragons feel safer around them since they give of the same vibe. kind of like different dog breeds getting along even though they look different, they can still tell they are both dogs and therefore must sniff butts and snuggle and what not.

The school of the wolf is a dragon ‘taming’ school hidden away in the dragon sanctuary, filling the same role as valka. though of course none of them are secretly Jaskiers parents or anything, its jsut the dragon-y bit thats the same.

Jaskiers story also follows pretty much exactly the same as Hiccups though I think I will change it so that other than astrid (who will be replaced by Yen), the others wernt really close to him since at leats with my mainly netflix knowledge I cant think of anyone to properly fill those roles. Tootheless is still just toothless.

Now onto this comic. How did Jaskier end up here? I hear you asking. Well, my Love, Jaskier was flying around on toothless, living his best life when WOOSH a monsterous nightmare (the dragon you can see in the comic and who is also infact a scaley Roache) comes swooping in. Jaskier is knocked off of toothless and his beloved dragon plumets into the cold waters below...

The kidnappers beleive that Jaskier, much like the other foul vikings they had come across, may have tortured the poor nightfury, forced it to fly and bend to his will! And so, do the wrong thing with the right intentions.

Jaskier begs, pleads for them to go get him (”Please! He cant fly on his own! My Baby cant fly on his own!”) This earns nothing from his masked kidnappers and his vision of Tootheless is obscured by the icey waters and the hundreds of dragons now swarming around them.

He is brought into a room of ice and stone, lit by torches, three shadowy figures looming in crouched positions on a ledge over head.

He hears a low growl and is now face to face with a monsterous nightmare that looks ready to pounce.

#httyd #the witcher #httyd witcher AU #ArcaneViolence's httyd Witcher AU #Geraskier #Jaskier #Geralt #vesemir #Lambert #The witcher netflix #how to train your dragon

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spilledbutter · 1 year

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like cardiac arrest (high voltage when we kiss) - chapter 2

Summary: Jaskier needs a date, fast. Problem is, dating is harder than it used to be. Luckily, Eskel’s willing to help him out.

Or: Two idiots in love think it’s a great idea to pretend to date each other. No one is fooled.

Jaskier/Eskel | Rated: M | WC: 4k+ | CW: coarse language, sexual thoughts

---

Prompt fill for lovely Kei! Read Chapter 1 on AO3 or here on Tumblr.

---

The weekend came, and with it, the arrival of Lambert and Aiden’s monthly cookout. Even though it was November and practically snowing, Lambert didn’t cancel his cookouts for anything, everyone else’s feelings about that fact aside. (“Rain or fucking shine, Jaskier, I don’t give a fuck about something as trivial as the weather,” he’d sneered when Jaskier had bothered to ask, one day. He’d never questioned it again.) Jaskier and Eskel were going, as they always did, with the new development of needing to look like a couple. They’d decided today would be as good a test run as any in seeing if their relationship would pass as genuine. After all, who would be a better judge than their friends and family?

It was a reasonable, terrible idea. Jaskier was absolutely shitting himself as he heard the knock on his door.

Eskel thought he should pick him up, thought they should drive there together. It did seem more natural, Jaskier supposed, but it really just meant he had no time at all to prepare himself for being a couple with Eskel and what that meant for his sanity.

He took a deep breath, which caught in his throat only a second later.

Eskel looked… Wow. The other man was stunning in a red button-up, top two buttons undone and bloated biceps on full display. His top was paired with well-fitting black jeans, which showed off his plump backside rather nicely. He had a sherpa-lined leather jacket and soft-looking scarf hanging over one arm, Blundstone-booted feet tying it all together.

Jaskier idly cursed good genes and the color red and the time when he’d told Eskel he looked dashing in it, so very long ago. It was awful that Eskel had taken him at his word, really, because now he was left dealing with the unfortunate reality of his good taste. He was practically salivating, unable to help his staring with so much to look at.

Jaskier was very much not ready for today, Melitele help him.

“Hi.” He sounded breathless even to his own ears, but Eskel either didn’t notice or was too kind to comment on it.

“Hi yourself. You ready to go?”

Eskel stepped fully into Jaskier’s apartment, perfectly at ease, and bent to scratch Mattie, Jaskier’s cat, as she gave him a mrow in greeting.

“Yeah, just about. Let me just grab my coat.”

Jaskier moved to the bedroom and was back in a flash, slipping his arms into the sleeves of his own double-breasted peacoat and wrapping a scarf around his neck. He’d dressed for luck today, wearing all of his favorite things in the hopes that this wouldn’t all blow up his face as spectacularly as he expected it would.

A button-up of his own, in a pretty cream color with light lace detailing around the buttons, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to show off his hands and wrists. His lovely thrifted waistcoat covered in floral embroidery (which some might call gaudy, but really, that was due to their inability to appreciate art, thank you very much). His favorite pair of black jeans, which fit his ass and thighs like a glove. His well-loved Chelsea boots, warm and practical but stylish and rustic. The pearl earring he’d crafted from one of his mother’s old necklaces in one ear and his many, ever-present rings adorning his fingers. Your clothes are your armor, Jaskier, and gods know you’ll need it today.

He came back to stand in front of Eskel with a smile and a prayer.

“Well, we look quite the pair, don’t we?” He hoped his usual charm was enough to mask his nerves. “You clean up rather nicely, Esk, though I don’t think that’s a surprise to anyone.”

He brushed a casual hand over Eskel’s shoulder without much thought, missing the flare of heat in the other man’s eyes.

“You too, Jask. In fact…” Eskel took that moment to step closer, crowding into Jaskier’s personal space. He placed a careful hand at Jaskier’s waist, used the other to guide Jaskier’s fallen hand back to his own shoulder. The look in his eyes was inscrutable, his touch as familiar as it was strange in this charade they found themselves in.

Jaskier was stunned for the second time in as many days. He blinked, mouth falling slightly open. “Esk? Bit early for this, yeah? We don’t even have an audience, unless you count Mattie,” he chuckled nervously, heart pounding like a drum.

The hand was a warm, bracing heat where it rested over the linen of his shirt. Jaskier felt the touch like a brand, sparks flying from the points where they made contact.

“Hm,” Eskel rumbled, bringing his other hand around Jaskier’s lower back and somehow stepping even closer. “Figured this would be as good a time as any to practice.”

Eskel’s thumb was rubbing small, distracting little circles at the base of his spine. Jaskier was finding it harder to string together a coherent thought by the second. “P-Practice…?”

The other man’s eyes crinkled at the corners, his mouth quirking into a becoming smile. Jaskier wanted to see what it would taste like, pressed to his lips.

“Kissing, Jask. Would you prefer I planted one on you when you weren’t expecting it? I didn’t want you to be more surprised than everyone else is already going to be.”

Jaskier spluttered, cheeks turning red. “I– well, I mean– Maybe? Probably a good idea, all things considered, would seem– normal, since we’re dating and all. Not that I’m saying no right now, but–”

Eskel took pity on him, chuckling. “Noted. I’ll remember that for later.”

He still hadn’t stopped that damnable stroking of his back. Fuck.

Jaskier bit his lip, hand tightening unconsciously on Eskel’s shoulder. His other hand moved from his side to rest tentatively on the meat of Eskel’s pec. “It might be… smart. Practicing. Do you… um, now?”

Jaskier had never been less eloquent in his life, but Eskel didn’t need pretty words to understand what he meant.

Eskel’s hand traveled smoothly from Jaskier’s waist to grasp his chin. Jaskier wasn’t small by any means, standing at just under six feet tall, but Eskel made him feel downright dainty. Something about that fact made a primal part of his brain purr with pleasure.

They locked eyes, blue meeting hazel. Jaskier took a few moments to just… look. He didn’t see any hesitation or regret in Eskel’s gaze, just warmth. The tension in his shoulders loosened, his face tilting just that little bit more upward.

Eskel, intelligent man that he was, didn’t wait any longer.

The warm press of lips against Jaskier’s own sent a bolt of lightning down his spine. It was rather chaste, all things considered, but he’d never felt quite so many butterflies as he did now with anyone else, the warmth spreading from where they were connected all the way down to his toes.

Eskel’s arms curled firmly around Jaskier’s hips, but his kisses remained soft, almost tentative. Jaskier felt a hunger clawing its way up his throat and just barely smothered the desperate sound that tried to escape. He pressed himself closer, arms looping around Eskel’s neck as his lips parted, praying that the declaration sitting on his tongue remained inside.

By the gods, kissing Eskel was like the first sight of water in a desert. Like the first flowers sprouting through frost, like first love in the summer. Like the last love he hoped he’d ever have.

They’d been kissing for maybe a minute, probably less, but when they pulled apart, Jaskier was panting. He felt absolutely wrecked, heart threatening to claw its way out of his chest, every part of his being screaming about the minuscule distance between them.

Fuck, he was so fucking fucked.

“Um,” he licked his suddenly dry lips and blinked through the pleasant, dazed feeling that had taken over his brain. “Think we’ll pass the test?”

Eskel looked almost as starstruck as Jaskier was, breath coming in shallow little puffs and a faint flush at the tips of his ears, though he schooled his features quickly. Jaskier’s heart fluttered at having that effect on him, feeling the sticky ooze of pride in his gut, despite knowing it was just a physical reaction to a damned good kiss.

When Eskel spoke, his voice was rough. “I think we just might.”

—-

“Jask! Eskel!” Aiden’s voice carried warmly over to them as they arrived through the back gate.

The butterflies were fully present again and Jaskier wiped his sweaty hands on his jeans. Eskel’s hand was a comforting warmth on his lower back, guiding him through the gate where he waited, hesitating.

“Hey, you two! Glad you could make it!” Aiden came over and hugged both of them tightly, as if he hadn’t just seen them two weeks ago when they met with Geralt and Lambert for drinks.

Jaskier smiled despite himself. “Hey Aiden, everyone here already? We brought refreshments.” Eskel held up their offering at Jaskier’s queue.

Aiden grinned like the cat that got the cream. “Great! Afraid Lambert made his way through most of ours last night when Geralt came over. Poor fool’s hopeless at Gwent, gods help him.”

Eskel snorted. “Don’t worry, Aid. I like you, so I won’t tell him you said that.”

“And that’s what makes you my favorite brother-in-law!”

Eskel smiled, moving to press a casual kiss to Jaskier’s cheek before excusing himself. “Going to put these in the fridge real quick. Be right back.”

Jaskier froze, knowing his face was practically glowing at the easy display of affection, but tried to play it cool. Damn it, Eskel, you had to leave me to deal with this alone…

He supposed he should be grateful it was Aiden first. He sighed.

“So… You and Esk?”

He glanced over at Aiden, not sure what he was expecting to find, but huffed a small breath of relief at seeing only curiosity in his expression. “When did that happen?”

“A few weeks ago. Remember Yenn’s birthday?”

In truth, it wasn’t a hard story to sell. He and Eskel were frequently together (some might say attached at the hip), so it wasn’t surprising when they’d left together that night. Jaskier was a friendly drunk in general, even more so with his actual friends, and he knew he’d been all over Eskel. He privately remembered how hard it was to keep his mouth shut, with the cold air around them and the warmth of Eskel’s body as he’d practically carried him down the street. How close he’d been to blowing it when they’d stumbled home to Jaskier’s flat…

Aiden nodded, brows raised, and shook him out of his reverie. “So, was it you or him? Honestly Jask, I have to tell you, we’ve all talked about it over the years,” he chuckled.

Jaskier frowned, brows furrowing. Aiden didn’t seem to notice.

“We placed some bets, with interest, so I’d really love to know if I won the pot.”

“You all placed bets on when I’d finally confess? That’s hardly fair. Should’ve taken the secret to my grave just to spite you,” Jaskier grumbled.

He was more than a little indignant that they all seemed to know how absolutely gone he was over Eskel, particularly since he’d never mentioned it to any of them. Maybe it was just a testament to how well they knew him. The thought wasn’t comforting in the slightest.

Aiden smirked, saying nothing, before tugging Jaskier by the wrist towards the fire pit.

“Come on, it’s fucking cold.”

—-

For the fourth time in the last twenty minutes, he found his gaze traveling across the yard. Eskel was sipping at a beer and chatting with Geralt. No doubt it was about the kids Geralt kept catching stoned out of their minds in the park campgrounds every weekend. He knew it had been a thorn in his best friend’s side for weeks, reluctant as he was to do too much about it. Lambert, who had just joined the other two, suddenly roared with laughter at some bit of Geralt’s dry humor, Eskel and Geralt smirking along with him at the unheard joke. Jaskier found himself smiling fondly, watching them all together.

“Lucky in love at last, bard?”

Jaskier scoffed, caught staring, and turned to Yennefer. She was bouncing little three-year-old Ciri on her knee on the other side of the fire, looking every bit at home in Lambert’s backyard. The beer she was holding clashed with her tailored pantsuit but only added to the picture she made, and really, it was just unfair that she made that look work to her advantage. Even with the snot Ciri was surreptitiously wiping on her shoulder.

“What can I say, witch? The man’s got taste,” he retorted with a smirk, all confidence he didn’t quite feel.

The nicknames were stupid things they’d given each other back in college, back when they were rivals fighting over the attention of a certain white-haired man who wasn’t ready for any kind of relationship. They were almost pet names, now, many years and shared bottles of wine over Geralt’s stupidity later.

Triss smiled over at him from her place next to Yennefer, a knowing glint in her eye. She was chopping vegetables for kabobs, her skilled hands making quick work with the knife she was holding. Yennefer leaned over to her, rolling her eyes at Jaskier, and pressed a kiss to her shoulder. Triss let out a smitten giggle.

A lawyer and a doctor, both beautiful to boot. He'd be intimidated if he hadn’t known them for years.

He smiled despite himself, pleased to see his friends happy in love. It only hurt a little bit, this time, knowing he at least had Eskel’s temporary attention to comfort him.

“We’re happy for you, Jask, you know that, right?” Triss finally chimed in, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she passed him to take the finished kabobs to Lambert at the grill.

Jaskier felt his cheeks heating, longing and wistfulness twisting sickly in his gut, and nodded. He hoped his feelings didn’t show on his face.

The night carried on, drinks and laughter and stories about their weeks shared between them, before they finally settled at Lambert’s massive patio table to eat. It was still cold out, but the patio lamps were warm, and Jaskier couldn’t help but feel even warmer with the drink in his belly and good company around him.

Jaskier was sitting next to Eskel, Aiden on his right, and Geralt across from them both. It was a little awkward, feeling Geralt trying not to stare at them. He hadn’t said anything to his best friend about this, knows how that must look since they all believe he and Eskel are dating now, but really, there wasn’t anything to tell. He couldn’t exactly tell Geralt he was fake-dating his brother as a ploy to best his mortal enemy, now could he? Nevermind the fact that he’d never exactly told Geralt he was in love with the man. Seemed like that was for the best, as that would only make things worse than they were now.

There was a stilted silence in the air, everyone tucking into their meals except for Geralt, who continued to look at Jaskier and Eskel as if they were a great mystery he couldn’t quite parse. Finally, Geralt must decide he’s drunk enough to say something because he huffs.

“I just don’t get it. How are you two dating?”

Everyone pauses, looking between the four of them–Geralt, Jaskier, Eskel, and the elephant in the room.

Jaskier, surprisingly, found his hackles up. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Geralt shrugs, looking only a little sorry. “It’s just, well… surprising, is all.”

And that just made it worse, Jaskier practically bristling like a cat whose tail has been stepped on. He starts spluttering, winding himself up into a rant about how Geralt doesn’t know fucking anything and how dare he say that in front of everyone, when Eskel’s hand lands on his thigh.

Jaskier pauses, then, looks over at Eskel. He is surprised by the warmth he sees in the other man’s eyes, compassion and tenderness and comfort all wrapped up in gold-flecked hazel. Eskel’s thumb is stroking over Jaskier’s knee, and he’s looking at him like that, and Jaskier suddenly can’t find it in him to be angry anymore.

“It’s okay, sweet thing,” Eskel murmurs. “I’ll do the explaining, yeah?”

He shifts his attention to everyone, walking them through their cover story–how they’d left their friends at the bar several weeks ago and fallen into each other’s arms. He keeps rubbing those damnable circles into the flesh on the inside of Jaskier’s knee, and Jaskier can’t quite stop himself from staring at Eskel’s mouth as he forms the words.

Particularly not when Eskel adds in a few things they hadn’t discussed.

“I know you’re all surprised, but this isn’t really new. Not for me. I’ve always loved Jaskier,” and he takes a moment to gaze straight into Jaskier’s eyes as he says that, before looking away like it’s nothing. Like he hasn’t just shattered Jaskier’s entire world.

He continues, clueless to the storm raging its way through Jaskier’s insides. “I just finally got my shit together enough to say something about it–and I was lucky that he felt the same way.”

Jaskier can’t look away from him, caught up in the way his eyes look at he says things like always loved and lucky about Jaskier, of all people. He feels a twinge of deja vu, thinking of the conversation with Yenn just over an hour ago.

Geralt’s hawk eyes keep darting back and forth between them–to the foolishly besotted look Jaskier is sure must be on his face right now, to the way he’s got his whole weight leaned against Eskel’s side like he’s the only thing keeping him upright. He’s not sure what Geralt makes of Eskel, but whatever he sees, it finally seems to satisfy him enough that he crosses his arms and nods.

“Happy for you both. I mean it,” he says gruffly, making sure to meet both of their eyes to show how serious he is. Jaskier feels a flutter of affection for his closest friend, any residual annoyance from his earlier comment fully faded away now.

Geralt pushes away from the table then, reaching to grab Ciri from her booster seat. He excuses himself, likely going to put Ciri down for her late afternoon nap. It’s just as likely he needs a second to rationalize the reality that his brother and best friend are together.

Jaskier turns back to the rest of the table at this point, still unsure what he’s going to see in the rest of their faces despite Geralt’s acceptance. He looks around at everyone, at Yennefer and Lambert and Vesemir, and feels something tight unfurl in his stomach as he sees the acceptance on all of their faces, something he hadn’t even known was there.

He lets himself smile, just for a second, and squeezes Eskel’s hand where it still rests on his knee under the table. He gets a fond squeeze back. This felt right. And although it wasn’t true, it felt good to know that everyone would be there to support them if it was.

—-

The rest of the evening is a quiet affair, and when the stars are well into the night sky, they finally say their goodbyes to everyone and make their way back to Eskel’s car. It’s only when he’s settled in the passenger seat with his seatbelt on that Jaskier goes limp with the weight of all of his feelings, pressing the heels of his hands firmly into his eyes.

“Jask? You okay?” It comes quietly, and although Eskel isn’t touching him, Jaskier breathes in his presence like the comfort that it always is.

He takes a moment and heaves a heavy breath out through his nose before he tries to speak. “Yeah. Just didn’t anticipate that being so… heavy. And I have to admit I didn’t think about how Geralt would react to the fact we hadn’t told him first when I proposed this idea.”

Jaskier rubs a nervous hand through his hair, sighing. He feels Eskel’s eyes on him, with that same quiet intensity he always has, before his hand is suddenly in Eskel’s.

“I’m sorry if I… overstepped, back there. Figured you’d really–want to sell it,” Eskel chuckles, weakly, and drums his fingers on the steering wheel.

Jaskier takes a moment to look at him more closely, taking in the tense set of his shoulders, the way he won’t quite meet his eyes.

“Hey,” he says, squeezing Eskel’s hand again, “What’s going through that big brain of yours?”

Eskel is still quiet, and it’s a little unsettling. Jaskier forces himself to be patient.

Eventually, he sighs, before turning to look at Jaskier. “We could still stop this, you know. Tell everyone it was all a big joke. I know I said it might be easier since we know each other, but I might have been wrong on that front.”

Jaskier’s heart is pounding, heart beating too hard at the direction this conversation might be turning. He doesn’t think Eskel is on to him, doesn’t think he’s noticed, but he will be if Jaskier asks what he wants to. Do you want to stop? Because I’ve never wanted anything less.

He swallows the question burning in his throat but is determined to do something about the furrow between Eskel’s brows, at the very least. No use in having the other man worried because of him.

“You did exactly what was asked of you, dear heart, no apology needed.”

Jaskier pauses, tap-dancing on the fine line between comforting honesty and revealing too much. “You know, when we decided to do this, I knew it would be a little messy,” he gave a rueful smile at that, hoping the little bit of truth in his words was enough for now. “But I can’t say there’s anyone I’d be happier doing this with than you.”

Eskel finally looks his way, a twitch at the corner of his mouth akin to a smile.

“Yeah?” And that confident light Jaskier loves so much is back in Eskel’s eyes as he says, “Not just because I’m a phenomenal kisser?”

The moment is broken, just like that. Jaskier shoves him playfully, laughing despite the resounding crack he feels in his heart. However this ends, they’ll be okay, even if he has to make peace with just being Eskel’s friend forever. Even if he knows now what Eskel looks like right after he’s been kissed, bright-eyed and breathless and beautiful. Even if his stupid heart guts him from the inside out by the time this is over.

Eskel turns the keys in the ignition and finally starts the drive to Jaskier’s flat. The streetlights outside flicker through the windows, turning Eskel’s olive skin a lovely golden brown. They’re quiet, except for the soft music playing on the radio, each digesting the developments of the last few days.

Jaskier can’t help himself, eyes drawn to Eskel’s face again. The other man looks mostly relaxed, still frowning slightly at whatever thoughts are going through his mind. Jaskier feels the ache acutely, then, wishing more than anything that he had the courage to fess up.

Instead, he reaches over and gently takes the hand resting on Eskel’s thigh in his own, smoothing a thumb over his knuckles. He hopes it’s a comfort, however small. He misses the eyes that flick over to him as he does so, the overwhelming fondness that takes over the other man’s expression as if he can’t help it any longer.

They sit like that, clasped hands resting on Jaskier’s knee and earnestly stealing glances at each other, for the rest of the drive.

Eventually, they pull up in front of Jaskier’s building, and Eskel parks the car. Jaskier is gathering his things and doesn’t notice when Eskel gets out of the car, hurrying over to open the door for him.

Another wave of blistering warmth rushes through him, the longing so intense he can barely stand it, but he simply beams up at his friend, getting out of the car with a quiet thank you.

“Well… this is me.”

Jaskier can’t resist glancing down at his shoes, feeling bashful, all of a sudden. He’s not sure why the feeling comes to him only now when the other man had declared his undying love in front of their friends and family earlier, but it’s there all the same.

His breath is stolen from him when Eskel steps forward and wraps his strong arms tightly around his frame, squeezing him in a hug so tight he lifts him off the ground. Jaskier is flustered, blushing at the fact that Eskel lifted him like he weighed absolutely nothing, but hugs him back just as tightly.

Eskel finally sets him back on the ground, arms still lightly wrapped around his sides. That inscrutable look is back in his eyes as he stares down at him, a soft smile on his face. Jaskier feels his insides go all squirmy.

“Goodnight, Jaskier.”

“I’ll text you, okay?” He smiles in response. Before he can stop himself, he leans up to press a soft kiss to Eskel’s scarred cheek. He gives him another quick hug before scurrying inside.

He stops to catch his breath only when he’s safely inside his apartment, leaning heavily against his locked door. Mattie comes up to him and rubs affectionately against his leg, but he can’t pay her any mind. Groaning, he slides to the floor, head in his hands.

He was so fucking fucked.

(2/3)

#asi writes #prompt fill #jaskel #jaskel fics #jaskier/eskel #jaskier/eskel fics #the witcher #witcher #jaskier x eskel #jaskier x eskel fics #eskel #julian alfred pankratz #jaskier the bard #jaskier #witcher fanfiction #wip #sorry kei this is getting REALLY long lmao

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machtaholic · 4 months

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My 2023 According to AO3

Kudos:1,405

Comment Threads:31

Bookmarks:355

Subscriptions:27

Word Count:127,587

I posted TWELVE fics in 2023!!! One in The Witcher fandom (Geralt x Jaskier) and ELEVEN in the Stranger Things fandom (Steve x Eddie)!

The Witcher:

A Change of Face

“Well, put it back,” Jaskier demanded. “I don’t want this face. I want your face.” Just a quick, slightly cracky (but perhaps plausible?) explanation for why Geralt will look different in Season 4.

Stranger Things (oldest to newest):

You Are Your Own Magician

"What do you do when you realize you've been living a life that other people have told you you should be leading?" Steve realizes that he hasn't been making his own choices for a long time and decides to change that … and then Eddie returns.

I Want Candy

The Party all goes to Steve's for a swim in the pool. When they arrive they find Steve in the driveway washing his car. Eddie is aroused.

I WIll Sing You a Praise Chorus

“How much of Steve is a mask and how much of it is real?” Eddie whispered. “Now that is the question,” Nancy replied. “I think only Steve knows the answer.” “Huh.” Now there was a mystery Eddie was eager to crack. Eddie works to crack the mystery of Steve Harrington and reaps the rewards.

A New Style

Steve gets a haircut. Eddie gets feral.

A Different Kind of Brave

Eddie ends up in Indianapolis and runs into Steve at the most unexpected of places … the Glamour Haven Institute where Eddie finds himself one of Steve's clients. And this Steve is different than the Steve Eddie knew back in Hawkins. Realizations are made and revelations revealed but something is still stopping Steve from being his new self back in Hawkins. Can Eddie help Steve push past his nerves and free himself? Spoiler alert -> yes, Eddie can.

5 Times Eddie Sabotaged Steve's Dates (+1 Time Where Eddie was the Date)

points to title Steve has a very specific list of qualities for someone to date, but somehow doesn't seem to use his own criteria. So Eddie does it for him. And discovers maybe he's actually the perfect person for Steve.

You Happen to Me All Over Again

It's Memorial Day Weekend 1990 - four years have passed since Eddie Munson was lost to the Upside Down and everyone has tried to move on. But then something happens at the Creel House and the Upside Down spits something out. Or rather, something. The Upside Down expels one Eddie Munson. And the only person he seems to recognize is Steve so he's taken to Seve's to recover. And maybe, just maybe, the two of them can help each other heal.

I'm Lost (I'm Found) In You

All the stress and trauma Steve has gone through made him start to go prematurely grey at the age of 20. So he wants to fix it. Eddie convinces him to keep it.

You Can't Rehearse the Chorus

Corroded Coffin is a famous band, selling out arenas after opening for Metallica. Eddie Munson, it's lead, has some very specific needs. And his manager Nancy always makes sure he has what he needs. During Corroded Coffin's Indianapolis shows, Nancy finds what Eddie needs … Only it's Steve Harrington, Eddie's crush from high school. And for Steve, finding out his client is Eddie is … surprising. They have a whole week together - what happens when it's all over?

Destiny Inn

It's the first Christmas post losing Eddie - Steve is on a quick road trip and trying to get home in time for Christmas Eve. He stops at a roadside motel called Destiny Inn where he sleeps. And dreams. Of Eddie. But it's just a dream, right? Or does Destiny have a plan for him? [spoiler - totally not a dream wink]

To the Gods I Will Speak Bluntly as We Traverse the Road to Right

When the emperor with the golden heart and the unknown demi-god unite, Vecna’s reign will end. In a world filled with magic, gods and goddesses, where a prophecy is destined to bring Eddie and Steve together and a vengeful god will do anything to keep them apart, can Eddie and Steve find their way to each other and achieve their happily ever after? [NOTE: Billy is NOT GOOD in this fic, please be forewarned]

#long post #my fics #according to AO3 #stranger things #steddie #writer's block broken

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coreofgold · 2 years

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Under the cut are my muses and what they’ll be dressed as and doing at the event ! This is like a plot call and starter call because once we plot i’ll end up doing a starter for them.

Aloth Corfiser (2/Wei Wuxian, Kieran)

Elven mage

Elven mask

Is being dragged by his boyfriend to the event so will be a wallflower until someone pulls him out (or until Iselmyr decides to take over)

Anya Forger (3/Loid, Yor, Katie)

Spy outfit

Spy mask

She is going because she wants to meet new people and have fun ! Also wants to spend her first Halloween having fun. Might have to leave in the garden due to being overwhelmed in crowds due to her powers but will be back in

Arthur Pendragon (1/Aquata)

Formal wear

Golden mask

He’s going to get out more and to see what this Halloween is all about. He’s also used to parties so he’ll go just to be immersed in the party

Aziraphale (0/??)

Archeologist/explorer

Mask

Aziraphale simply adores the aesthetic of Halloween and while they’ll be more of a wallflower, Zira will enjoy people watching and enjoy the drinks and food

Ban Yue (1/Xie Lian)

Medusa costume

Medusa mask (though wont’ wear unless she can make it into a stick)

They have no idea what Halloween is but as a ghost, they can feel stronger so they

Baymax (0/??)

Plague doctor with mask

See above for plague doctor mask

Baymax knows the history of Halloween but celebrating it as a human is new to him so they want to experience it and learn

Beelzebub (1/He Xuan)

Frankenstein Monster (couple costume with Soo Oh)

Half mask

Beel is going to have fun with his boyfriend and to eat the food. He’ll have to be dragged away from the food

Cao Weining (1/Gu Xiang)

Zombie pastry chef

White mask

Fascinated by the aesthetic and wants to try the treats (maybe made some for the place but we’ll see)

Choi Yeon Woo (1/Yoo Han)

Formal wear (matching with Yoo Han)

Gold mask (Yeon Woo gets the bottom one)

Yeon Woo’s being dragged and being a wallflower until his boyfriend pulls him out. Might spend his time in the gardens for a moment because all the colors will give him a headache.

Dewey Duck (1/Hallie)

Indiana Jones

Brown mask

Is going to record the whole thing and stream it on his channel

Dizzy Tremaine (1/Sam Maek Jong)

Homemade Cinderella

Silver mask

Dizzy is going to live out her princess fantasy at this place while learning about Halloween

Edrisa Tanaka (0/??)

Ghostly Marie Curie

White mask

Will be mingling at the part and talking to everyone about the history of Halloween if anyone would listen to her

Gabriel (0/??)

1920s gangster

Forest mask

Gabriel always goes where the party is and the fact there’s desserts and candy ? Sold.

GIR (1/BEN)

T-rex

No mask because in T-rex costume

GIR remembers Halloween from before and is so hyped

Hua Cheng (3/Thanatos, Jin Guangyao, Mu Qing)

Himself (Demon/Goblin King; depends on what they want to call it)

Butterfly mask (Will take it off and shape shift into normal face to see if anyone recognizes them as Xue Yang or shift into anyone and cause trouble)

Is going to show Xie Lian a good time and cause mischief. Also assuming they will have had an alliance with Jin Guangyao at this time so will also stick by his said and cause mischief

Julian Alfred "Jaskier" Pankratz (2/Venti, Han)

David Bowie

Light blue and gold mask

Loves a good party and is going for the music.

Lan Jingyi (4/Wangji, Belphegor, Jin Ling, Rikki)

Morticia Addams

Black mask

Has no idea what’s going on but he loves it and is going with his boyfriend. Might cause trouble because he’ll want to choose trick instead of treat

Lan Xichen (2/Nie Mingjue, Jin Guangyao)

Elven prince (pointed ears included)

Silver mask

With everything in the past, Lan Xichen is uncomfortable with all the noise but he knows Nie Mingjue works int eh White House so he’s going to go and support him and learn about this Halloween. He’ll either be in the garden or mingling in the back with his brother; he’ll also be with Jin Guangyao once he finds him and realizes he works at the White House

Legolas Thranduilison (1/Sersi)

Himself/Elven warrior

Forest mask

Has no idea what Halloween is but a party is a party so of course he’ll be going and dressed up from his home.

Luo Binghe (2/Shen Qingqiu, Shang Qinghua)

Grim reaper

Skeleton mask

Is more excited to be learning about Halloween and hanging out with his husband Shen Qingqiu more than the actual party itself.

Neil Perry (1/Orpheus)

Ariel from the Tempest

Bird mask

Is going to let loose and see what the others are doing. Hoping to find Todd there

Penelope Garcia (2/Sella, Ethan)

Eleventh Doctor

Tardis mask

Is sad her friend Reid isn’t here to share the Halloween knowledge but she’s happy to be in the aesthetic and dress up

Pete Phongsakorn Saengtham (1/Wu Si Qi)

Formal wear/Demon

Red mask

Only going because he wants to see how Halloween is being celebrated in America

Peter Regis (0/??)

Alchemist robe here and Alchemist hat

Mask

It’s Halloween and while they didn’t have the traditional Halloween back home (Not even sure he knows what it is) but he can feel the energy of the party and quite likes it

Prince Justin (1/Sophie)

Formal wear

Yellow mask

As an event planner he is compelled to go and have fun. He’ll be on the dance floor and mingling around

Seo Haebom (1/Taeseong)

Cactus

Green mask (if it can fit)

He’s nervous to be around so many people but he’ll be a wallflower and hang out with his boyfriend.

Seok Han-Seong (1/Misa)

Phantom of the Opera

See above for mask

Han Seong loves a good party and he’ll alternate between dancing and mingling to just strolling alone and enjoying the scenery

Taka (1/Apollo)

Samurai (Jin Sakai)

Samurai oni mask

Taka is fascinated by it all and will try and mingle and get used to Halloween parties

Vax'ildan Vessar (1/Lee Yeon)

Champion of the Raven Queen (Reaver with wings)

Skeleton mask

His costume may be way on the nose but whoops Halloween brought it out of him (since he’s dead and the veil between the moral and supernatural realm is thin). Is going for the alcohol and to steal off people and gamble

Wen Ning (1/Wei Wuxian)

Himself (he thinks he’s scary)

Cherry blossom mask

Poor boy is so confused on what Halloween is and is scared of the crowd. He’s sticking with his sister unless he has the courage to leave

Wu Xi (0/??)

Formal wear

Forest snake mask

He is only going to try and find his husband and to see what this Halloween is about. He is fascinated by it but hates the chaos of it. Will hit you if you touch his snake mask

Xiao Xingchen (2/Nam ra, Tylor)

Lady justice

Bandages around eyes so not wearing mask

While he can’t see the aesthetic of the ball or anything he’ll have a nice time in the corner and enjoying the atmosphere. Will be asking for help and hopefully won’t bump into anyone

Xu Youyi (0/??)

Chang’E the Moon goddess

Rabbit mask

Is using the party as both an excuse to use as inspiration for her novel. . .and also even though she’s not as famous in America she still might be well known enough so it’s expected she’d arrive

Zhang Chengling (1/Zhou Zishu)

Zhou Zishu hanfu

Veiled bamboo rice hat (doesn’t know what a masquerade mask is)

Listen Chengling has no idea what’s going on. He’s kind of nervous to go to a party but it sounds fun and kids from college are going but he’ll end up ditched but he wants to show off to his dad his costume. He also has no idea what a masquerade mask is and will be confused as to why they are hiding their faces

#hw: plot call #hw: starter call #hwevent14 #halloween event

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d-andilion · 2 years

Text

sorry i’m late

@thepassifloradiscord‘s bards week - day 5: broken strings

(valskier, post-s2, established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, love confessions, 1.3k)

read on ao3

Valdo slams the door almost immediately. One minute Jaskier is taking in the face that’s been swimming around his dreams for weeks, big brown eyes and dark raven curls, and the next he’s jumping back to save his nose from the assault of the wood currently blocking his way.

This is a touch dramatic, even for Valdo. Jaskier’s opening line admittedly left something to be desired, but the trip down from the Blue Mountains was a rough one, even in early spring. Gods forgive him if “Hey” was all he could come up with after three weeks of shivering himself to sleep every other night.

Jaskier digs around his new pack for his key. Valdo gave him the spare after he started spending the night more often than not, and it had been one of the few things left in his pockets when destiny decided it was time for another adventure. Though Jaskier wished many times over the past few months that it would transform into a clean shirt, or better yet a pair of smalls, he’s glad to have it now.

Inside, Valdo is standing about as far away from the door as he can without climbing out the window, his arms folded stiffly over his chest. The sharp features of his face are fixed in a practiced mask of lightly annoyed indifference, but Jaskier sees something simmering behind his eyes, and he’s pressing his lips together the way he only ever does to keep them from trembling.

“Get out.” Valdo throws his words like darts at a board—quick and a little bit deadly.

Jaskier drops his pack onto the floor and puts his hands on his hips. “I must say, your welcoming could use some work.”

“My apologies,” Valdo says with an acridly false laugh. “Hello, dearest! Get. Out.”

“What’s the matter?” Jaskier asks. It is not well received.

“What’s the matter?” Valdo’s eyes widen with fury and he takes a few stomping steps forward. “You disappear for months without a trace and you think I’m the one with the problem?”

He may have a point there, but Jaskier’s hackles are already raised, and never let it be said that he is a man of reason. “Forgive me for thinking you’d be happy to see me.”

Valdo scowls. “There is no one in the world I would like to see less of right now.”

Jaskier heaves a defeated sigh, preparing to give some ground. “Look, I know it was an unexpected absence, but Geralt needed—”

“I don’t care,” Valdo cuts in. Jaskier takes a few steps forward himself.

“I’m trying to explain myself!”

“I don’t want to hear it.”

“Then what do you want me to say?”

“I want you to leave.”

“Val—”

“I thought you were dead!”

Any pretense of control slips away as Valdo shouts. His arms aren’t crossed anymore so much as wrapped around himself, clinging for some semblance of comfort. His face collapses, tears escaping from the corners of his eyes and something in the center of Jaskier’s chest sinks to the floor. Dead?

“You didn’t come back,” Valdo continues, trying and failing to breathe through sobs. “I—I told the guards you were missing. That you played by the dock, they— They brought me your lute, it was—”

Valdo can’t seem to finish, but it’s hardly necessary. Destroyed is probably apt. Jaskier didn’t need to see the aftermath to know that much. Being used as a club over someone’s head surely left it with more than a few broken strings.

“I thought you were dead, Jaskier.” Valdo’s voice is reduced to something weak, little more than a whisper. “It took them a fortnight to put the fucking dots together and tell me you’d been arrested and freed the next morning. They probably wouldn’t have bothered if they didn’t think I could tell them where you’d run off to.”

Jaskier stands there watching Valdo cry, watching him try to hold himself together, and his chest feels hollowed out. Of course, he knew Valdo would worry, that this unannounced separation would be hard on him, but he didn’t expect to leave him in mourning, even for a handful of days. How does he apologize for this? How does he even begin to make this better?

“Did you even so much as spare me a thought?” Valdo croaks.

“If there had been time—“ Jaskier stops himself curtly as Valdo’s eyes begin to roll. “Don’t roll your fucking eyes at me!”

Jaskier doesn’t mean to shout, doesn’t want to. Shouting is the last thing either of them needs right now, but he can’t bear this. Every thought in his head not occupied by staying alive has been here, with Valdo, from the moment he woke up in that tavern. He has seen horrors beyond imagining in the past few weeks, but he won’t sit here and be accused of abandoning this man without a care in the world.

“If there had been a spare moment in the midst of it,” Jaskier says, calmer, “I would have taken it because the only thing I was thinking about all the while I was being fucking tortured was you.”

Shock colors Valdo’s expression and he holds himself a little tighter, fingers curling around the fabric of his shirt—no. Jaskier’s shirt. He remembers choosing it for the flowers embroidered around the cuffs and collar, though he hardly got a chance to wear it.

It was Valdo’s favorite to steal. It’s an ill fit, billowing around the other bard’s narrower frame, but Jaskier always loved to see it on him. Jaskier feels heat behind his eyes as his own tears well up.

“While I was waiting for that bastard to finish me off, I wondered if you would ever know what happened to me. I wondered if you would look for me. If you’d weep for me. If anyone would be there to hold you. I was thinking that I’d give everything, what little I had left, for one more minute with you standing in front of me so I could—”

Jaskier’s voice breaks and tears spill over his cheeks. This is not how he wanted this moment to happen. They were supposed to be tangled together in bed licking wine from each other’s lips or at a candle-lit picnic by the river, not crying in Valdo’s sitting room with an ocean of space between them. It’s a fucking disaster is what it is.

Jaskier wipes miserably at his cheeks. “So I could tell you that I love you.”

Valdo’s eyes, it seems, could swallow the world whole. Jaskier thinks idly that he needs to write something for them; a sonnet, a song, perhaps an entire volume of poems to capture what they do to him. How, he wonders, could he have lived so long without singing their praises?

“And now I’m here,” Jaskier says when Valdo doesn’t reply. “I saw monsters and demons and the gaping maw at the end of the world, but I am—miraculously—here.”

Jaskier takes it upon himself to close most of the distance between them, but he stops short of those last few inches.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he says. “I’m sorry I frightened you. I’m sorry I left you. I’m sorry for everything you want me to be sorry for, but I’m here and I love you. So get your prickly arse over here and let me hold you before I lose my fucking mind.”

Valdo doesn’t need much more encouragement. He crosses that last stretch of space tentatively, but the moment Jaskier has an arm around his waist, Valdo melts against him. He’s still crying. Jaskier can feel it on his skin as the other bard buries his face in his neck, but it’s alright. Jaskier is crying too, watching his tears roll off the end of his nose and into a mess of black curls.

“I love you too, you know,” Valdo mutters, stroking his long fingers gently through Jaskier’s hair.

Jaskier holds him tighter. “I should hope so. That was an excellent speech, I’d hate to think I wasted it.”

bards week masterlist

#posting from my ipad pls forgive mistakes #my fic #mine #valskier #valdskier #jaskier x valdo #valdo x jaskier

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wren-of-the-woods · 2 years

Note

Hey! I was wondering if you'd be up for creating a master list of the longest and most intriguing Witcher fics you've read? 💘

Absolutely, my dear anon! I haven't read as many longfics as I'd like, quite honestly, but I've given it a shot. I believe these are all Geraskier, for no particular reason other than those are the ones I found.

As always, I would love it if anyone wants to contribute some of their favorites or their own fics to the notes. I'm always looking for new things to read!

100k+

Biting Snake Isn't Better Than Knife In Your Back and Winter Winds and Snowmelt by @damatris Rated M, 280k and 300k+ (WIP) These are two consecutive stories in a series. Summary for first story:

There was something ugly churning in Geralt's gut watching all those nobles flock around Jaskier. Fawning, complimenting, flirting. Jaskier should be thriving and preening from all the attention. Instead there was something uncomfortable and pinched in his expression, skillfully masked behind playful smiles and bright laughs. Geralt didn't want to contemplate why he, and only he, noticed the bard's wish to run.

Those songs we sung, those words we flung by persephonesprince Not Rated, 179k

After the mountain top, Jaskier keeps running into witchers. The other witchers of Kaer Morhen decide that if Geralt can't be nice to Jaskier, then they will have to take care of him themselves.

Defiance & Destiny by @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels Rated T, 104k

When Geralt of Rivia returns to England after a prolonged absence, he and Jaskier, an aspiring bard, are forced to confront the pride and prejudice that flung them apart. Meanwhile, Lady Yennefer of Vengerberg is beginning to wonder if there is more to life than being handsome, clever, and rich.

60k+

I Follow the Path that You Choose by @flowercrown-bard Rated M, 75k

As winter creeps into the land Jaskier faces himself once again with the choice of whether or not he should ask Geralt to spend the winter months with him. There’s only one problem: As we all know, Jaskier isn’t very good at making sensible choices. Which is why you, dear reader, get to make the choices for him in this choose-your-own-adventure-fic. There’s no telling what the winter will bring for Jaskier and Geralt. Who knows, maybe you will read a tale of jealousy? Maybe one of curses and heartache? Maybe there will be drunken confessions or the danger of snowstorms? Maybe Jaskier will get to meet Geralt’s family or Geralt will get to meet Jaskier’s friends? I guess there’s only one way to find out.

Christmas Downhill by avengeful-bunny (brodeurbunny30) Rated T, 66k

Jaskier, a struggling musician on the outs with his wealthy, elitist family is invited to spend a very special Christmas at his childhood home...with his boyfriend that technically doesn't exist. Enter Geralt, a Law student and part-time ski instructor who happens to fit all the requirements to play fake boyfriend in front of the family, for a small fee. With the magic of the season in the air, will the plan go flawlessly, or will a case of the feelings cause it all to go downhill? Either way, it promises to be a Christmas to remember.

Give Me Nothing, Give Me You by @dls-ao33 Rated T, 62k

Ciri's kindergarten letter comes in the mail on a Tuesday. Geralt opens it, skims it, and frowns at the class his daughter has been assigned. Dandelions. Or: A modern AU with Dad!Geralt and Teacher!Jaskier.

50k+

The Bard and The Wolf by Arvari Rated M, 59k

When Jaskier's band, Dandelions, suddenly kicks him out, he accidentally finds himself a place in another one - Kaer Morhen, a band he'd always considered to be his rivals. And maybe, just maybe, they're not as bad as he'd thought. And maybe their frontman, who calls himself The White Wolf, isn't such an idiot after all...

A Little Human Contact by Quallian42 Rated T, 58k

Geralt has now been officially divorced for longer than he has been married. Eskel and Lambert celebrate by buying him a session with a professional cuddler named Jaskier. Sometimes a little human contact can change everything

Silver and Copper by @heronfem Rated M, 56k

Geralt is just supposed to pass through the quiet Lettenhove area. He's not anticipating being begged by its people to help save their viscount from a curse that keeps him from daylight. Lord Jaskier, they call him, and he's likely dying. Or- Jaskier is kept from becoming a bard. Geralt finds him anyway.

For the Asking by @gremble Rated T, 53k

In which Geralt of Rivia, the White Wolf, Conqueror of the North, would really prefer not to be receiving handsome young men as tribute.

40k+

Once & Future by spqr Rated M, 49k

Jaskier tilts his head, neck crunching at the strange angle, and kisses the King’s stone frown. The statue—who is now not so much a statue as a man—gasps into his mouth.

Geralt of Rivia and the Jewel of Cintra by DancingLassie Rated T, 47k

The Son, the Wife, the Mistress, the Tutor or the Mysterious Elf? With monsters now extinct, witchers had to find other lines of work. Unfortunately for Private Detective Geralt of Rivia, he owed Sigismund Dijkstra a favour and the Head of the Redanian secret service was cashing in. There had been a high profile murder and he needed someone to go and discreetly sort it out.

Negotiate with a Mare by @theheirofashandfirendfire Rated M, 44k

When he gets back, two bowls of stew and a jug of wine balanced precariously in his hands courtesy of a grateful mother, Geralt is exactly where he left him. He’s fast asleep, chest slowly rising and falling beneath the blanket still draped over him. Roach glances over and nickers at him softly. “You and me, girl, we’ve got a hell of a job on our hands,” Jaskier whispers to her. “Don’t you worry, though. I’ll stick around for a bit. Help you out.” Roach flicks an ear at him, and then goes back to her hay. Jaskier heaves a sigh. “Sometimes I feel so unappreciated.”

The Fix is Inn by f-ing-ruthless-baz (firb) Rated M, 43k

When Geralt inherits his uncle’s old cottage house, Kaer Morhen, he has to figure out what to do with it. It’s run-down and falling apart, and he doesn’t know if fixing it up will be worth the money he’ll get when he inevitably sells the place—and Ciri doesn’t want him to sell it at all. But he knows sometimes you have to let things go. Meanwhile, Jaskier is struggling to write his next album, and the label is breathing down his neck about it. His manager, Yennefer, thinks it would be good for him to get away for a while. Away from all the distractions of the city, so he can focus on his music. And her ex’s uncle used to have a cottage in the middle of nowhere… Sometimes holding on and letting go are but two sides of the same coin.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #fic rec #fic recs #reclist #geraskier reclist #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fanfiction #normally i would make the summaries a little nicer or add notes of my own but i'm tired so you get this #enjoy!#i would particularly appreciate it if anyone has suggestions to add to this one because i'm gonna be without internet for a couple days #and i need things to download while i'm gone #so don't be shy!

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valdomarx · 2 years

Text

I remember it (all too well), for @julek <3

It was just a scrap, really - a length of silk Jaskier had found on the street in Oxenfurt, torn from some elegant lady's dress. It was muddy and fraying, but beneath the muck there were beautiful colours and a fine pattern. So he'd taken it home, and carefully washed and hemmed it, and tied it round his neck. A tiny piece of finery.

It was the kind of thing that feels so grown up when you're 19.

And then he'd stumbled across a witcher in a tavern in Posada, and his life had taken quite the turn. He'd tied the silk around the handle of his lute case so he had something delicate to touch during rough days on the road, until it had come undone while they were hastily packing up camp and he'd shoved it into one of Geralt's saddle bags.

"Look after this for me, will you?" he'd asked, still unsure if this was the kind of favour you could ask of someone who was, according to them, not your friend.

"Hmm," was all he'd gotten in response.

Decades later, Jaskier still sometimes feels like that ungainly child, trying so desperately hard to be good enough, to be entertaining enough, to be enough at all. He'd finally made it to Kaer Morhen, a place he'd dreamed about visiting one day, a place he'd thought might mean acceptance, and recognition, and even, how foolish of him, love.

But he's only here on sufferance, and only because someone had to travel with Ciri. Geralt has his family to think of now, and that doesn't include Jaskier. So in the days after the battle with Voleth Meir he tries to make himself useful when he can and stay out of the way when he can't.

On an evening that is bitterly cold even by witcher standards, Vesemir makes a huge pot of stew and its scent drifts temptingly through the keep. Geralt has been training Ciri all day, so Jaskier ladles out an extra bowl and takes it to his room. Standing on the threshold, he feels a fool. He's never knocked on Geralt's door before - he's always just barged in, assuming a degree of intimacy that was perhaps unwarranted - but he knocks now.

Geralt opens the door wearing a worn old shirt and a hard expression which softens when he sees the stew. He offers something that might be a smile as he takes it, kicking open the door in what Jaskier supposes is an invitation.

He's just going to warm himself by the fire before taking the long route back to his room, but he can't resist looking around Geralt's space. It's neat, of course, but there are swords and pieces of half-mended armour dotted around, plus thick pelts and soft blankets - indications, if you know where to look, that Geralt does in fact like nice things.

And then a flash of colour catches Jaskier's eye and his heart jumps into his throat. There, curled up in a neat pile by the bed, is a scrap of silk he hasn't seen in years. His silk. Here, in Geralt's room.

Geralt follows his gaze and seems to freeze in place. Something hot like anger, like shame, like hope, burns through Jaskier's veins.

"You kept it?" There's a note of accusation in his voice.

Geralt doesn't acknowledge it, won't look him in the eye.

After all this time. It's baffling, and infuriating. It's so fucking Geralt. "Why?" he grits out, and the edge to it makes Geralt flinch.

"I..." Geralt turns away. Jaskier could throttle him. "You said to look after it."

"That was years ago," Jaskier almost pleads, desperate for Geralt to deny it, to make a joke of it. The idea that he has carried this piece of Jaskier with him for all this time is like claws ripping at his heart. "Why?"

Geralt's throat works. "I missed you," he says, simply, like he hasn't just torn down all the defenses Jaskier has spent so many years building, in three words or less. The bastard. "It reminded me of you."

Geralt turns and looks at him, finally, and who knows what he sees on Jaskier's face. Fury? Grief? Long-buried yearning? Jaskier has always been gifted at putting on a mask, but Geralt is equally gifted at seeing things as they are.

"Do you..." Geralt chews his lip, and there's something heart-wrenching about the indecision there. "Do you want it back?"

Jaskier wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to take Geralt's face in his hands and kiss him until he's breathless.

He looks at the scrap of silk. He imagines all the times Geralt has held it, or run his fingers over its smooth surface. How he might have brought it to his face and breathed in its scent, and thought of Jaskier.

Jaskier's heart, already in tatters, breaks a little more. He swallows down the lump in his throat and says, with something that could be either resignation or hope, "Keep it."

#geraskier #the witcher #my writing #listen i love taylor swift and i'm not sorry

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samstree · 3 years

Text

“Hey, Jaskier. Wake up.”

Geralt shakes the bard gently on the shoulder. Through the thin chemise, he can feel Jaskier’s too-warm skin—the fever is down a bit, but not gone.

And the bard remains dead to the world.

“Jask,” Geralt calls again. “Come on, I need to tell you something.”

The bard curls into himself, and that’s when Geralt notices the pillow he’s hugging under the cover—Geralt’s pillow, to be exact.

Jaskier seems to catch these words, and his soft snoring quiets down. Geralt keeps running a hand up and down his bicep but it only serves to make Jaskier bury his face deeper as if he doesn’t want to let go of the blissful oblivion.

Geralt never knew the sight of Jaskier sick and vulnerable could do so many things to his heart, make him feel like a pool of warmth is gathering in his stomach. But again, he never expected Jaskier. Not how much he would come to care for this chatty and colorful bard, not how hopelessly he would be in love with him either.

That’s why he needs Jaskier awake. Now.

“Just open your eyes for a while, Jask. Come on.” At those words, Jaskier’s eyes meet Geralt, sleep-muddled and strikingly blue. Geralt softens at the sight. “I’m in lo—”

“G’ralt?” The bard croaks his name miserably. Blue eyes flutter shut again. A frown forms between his brows. “I’m…so…so tired…”

Jaskier buries his nose into the pillow and inhales. The bard is not a small man but at this moment, he looks as if the bed and the layers of blankets can swallow him whole. Geralt can’t help but wrap his hand around Jaskier’s chin to soothe his distress.

“Shh. Let me say this and you can rest. Come on,” Geralt coaxes. “I love—”

“Why are you so cruel to me?” Jaskier sounds like he’s on the verge of tears, heedless of Geralt’s now twice interrupted confession. “I’m sick. I want to sleep… ‘m cold… alone. I’m alone and I can’t…”

Jaskier trails off, his protests pitiful but he still manages to nuzzle into Geralt’s palm. Is it possible for a witcher’s heart to burst with love?

“It’s the fever talking, Jask.”

Geralt continues to rouse the bard, and finally, finally, Jaskier rubs his eyes open with clarity. An adorable furrow remains, and Geralt wipes it away with a thumb.

“I love you.”

The confession comes out in a whisper, but not because Geralt is unsure of his heart. Only the gods know how long he has been brewing these three words, how he has played out the scene over and over in his head.

Jaskier stares, and stares, the sleepiness in his eyes now completely gone.

“Is this a dream?”

The question is so careful, so full of restrained hope. Geralt’s heart clenches.

“I’ve been in love with you, Jask, for longer than I know.” The corners of Geralt’s mouth tug upward. “I made so many plans for this moment, just so it can be perfect for you, but now... This is enough.”

Jaskier knowing his heart is enough.

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes. “Just like that, you’ve—”

He tries to prop himself up but a pained grimace overtakes his face. His joints must still be aching from the fever. Biting back a grunt, Jaskier lets his body fall to the bed. Geralt moves his hand to the small of his back and starts kneading the taut muscles there. Slowly, the bard leans into the touch and goes completely limp.

“Hmm,” he groans contentedly. “Just like that, you made a grand confession the most anticlimactic thing in the world. My writing professor back in Oxenfurt would be disappointed if you put that in a romance novel, my dear. A random morning, when I’m still in bed, no less.”

“Not random.” Geralt moves to Jaskier’s knees, massaging the soreness away. “Had years of build-up. For me, at least.”

If Jaskier feels any surprise, he hides it well.

“Why now, then?”

Jaskier stills his hands, and Geralt threads their fingers together instinctively. Blue eyes fix on him in earnest.

“You mentioned the fever you went through as a child.”

“And?”

“How it made you feel cold and alone. Like no one could reach you.”

“Like I would be alone forever.” A haunted look clouds the same blue eyes. Geralt squeezes his fingers in sympathy, and feels the gesture returned.

“You talked in your sleep,” he continues. “You begged me not to leave you here alone.”

Jaskier instantly tries to hide his face away, his blush deepening from embarrassment. “Gods, it’s so humiliating. I didn’t mean to—”

“I need you to know that I won’t.” He puts as much conviction in those words as possible. “Because I love you, Jask.”

Deep down, Geralt has long since learned that the bard is not someone he can just leave anymore. But Jaskier won’t know it, not without him saying it out loud. From the looks of it, the bard is taking in everything pretty well. His entire face has turned beet-red, the flush stretching down to the open collar of the chemise, but now, there’s also an air of giddiness in his eyes.

“Come here then.”

Geralt lets himself go to Jaskier, the blankets thrown aside so his body heat can do the work. He guides Jaskier’s head to the crook of his neck and makes sure the bard is nestled comfortably. He buries his fingers in those messy brown locks like it’s where they’ve always belonged.

Jaskier is hugging him tightly with those strong arms, circling Geralt’s torso the same way he always clings to a pillow. The urge to say it again is overwhelming. So he does.

“I love you,” Geralt murmurs into Jaskier’s hair.

“That’s way too many times in a row, darling. One might start to believe it’s genuine.”

The sliver of doubt might be masked under the teasing, but Geralt is too well-versed in Jaskier’s moods to let it slip past his attention. He has to earn the trust, after all these years, after breaking Jaskier’s heart too many times.

“Good. They are,” he adds. “I’ll prove it.”

“When I wake up, maybe.” Jaskier lets out a timely yawn, his voice rough with exhaustion. “First, you’ll have to tell me about your big plans. I’m sure there’s a ballad in there or two.”

“Are you?”

“Mm-hmm. It’s you, you know…” Jaskier’s hand is resting near Geralt’s heart, so he takes it to his lips. “Always the dramatic one.”

Geralt gives up on hiding the grin on his face and places a quiet kiss in Jaskier’s palm. With that, the bard slips into a peaceful slumber, knowing he is loved.

#alternate ending to Hug a Witcher #geraskier #geraskier fic #fluff #sleepy jaskier #love confessions #soft geralt #sick jaskier #geralt of rivia can use his words #geralt x jaskier #cuddling

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witcher-and-his-bard-archive · 3 years

Text

Someone Else (I'm Still Right Here)

also on ao3

minor warning for Geralt coming on to Jask when he doesn't know who he is, but nothing comes from it.

They've hardly been in town long enough for anything to go wrong and yet, Jaskier finds his thoughts interrupted by banging on the door of their room. If it was Geralt, he would simply let himself in even if he didn't have his hands free to open the door properly, so it must be important. Jaskier rises from the bed, setting his lute aside with a sigh. He detests being interrupted while he's working for anything less than an emergency - and judging by the fact that the knock hasn't come again, this is hardly an emergency.

He saunters to the door, pulling it open to find the face of the innkeeper's wife staring back at him anxiously.

"Sorry to interrupt," she says, "it's your Witcher, sir. Something's happened and no one is... well, they're all afraid to get too close to him. They called in the healer from the next town, but-"

Jaskier frowns. The contract was for a pair of drowners, not even a nest of the damn things. Geralt could have taken them out in his sleep - so what went so terribly wrong?

Jaskier lets himself be led downstairs, doing his best to mask worry with intrigue, but it isn't working. The innkeeper's wife leads him to the edge of the forest where her husband is waiting, a look of pained concern on his face. Jaskier's stomach drops as the man just points into the trees, and he hurries forward without delay. If the people in town won't help Geralt, he will certainly do his best.

When he finds him, Geralt is in a bad state. His eyes are still dark from the potions - probably why the locals wouldn't come near - and there's blood streaked down the side of his face.

Jaskier stays quiet. It's bad enough that Geralt can hear his pulse racing, he doesn't need to make his fear any more obvious to him. He kneels down on the soft ground, assessing the damage before moving him. He's learned from experience that one wrong move can make a wound worse rather than better.

"Okay," he says once he's satisfied. "I'm just gonna pull this off," he taps on Geralt's left pauldron, "make sure your head is the only thing you banged up." Jaskier frowns as he says it, but Geralt seems, as usual, unconcerned. He's much better behaved than usual though, which strikes Jaskier as being particularly odd.

He ignores it and pushes through, tearing an already ripped piece of Geralt's shirt to wipe away some of the blood. Geralt will be grouchy about it later, but if Jaskier replaces it, he can't be too angry. He does his best to clean Geralt's skin and he finds just the one injury - a hefty blow to the head. Not that it seems to be bothering Geralt any.

But when Jaskier cups his jaw, tipping his head to one side, Geralt hums. It catches him off guard and Jaskier jerks back to look at him.

"Your hands feel nice," Geralt breathes and leans into the touch. Okay. So maybe the head injury is more serious than it appears. The innkeeper's wife said a healer was coming, Jaskier will mention it to them when they arrive. Or maybe it's just the blood loss. Either way, the healer will be better prepared to deal with it than he is.

"What are you doing here?" Geralt asks.

"The innkeeper's wife came to collect me. Figured someone ought to come and collect you."

"No one else would even get near me."

"Yes, well, I'm not everyone else, am I?"

"Hmm. Guess not."

Jaskier comes around to look at him, straddling his thighs and Geralt leans forward, resting his head on his shoulder and nuzzling into his neck.

"Yes yes," Jaskier hums, "I know you're tired, darling, but we have to get you up and back to town."

Geralt is reluctant, but he lets himself be hauled to his feet and doesn't even complain about Jaskier propping him up as they make their way back toward town. He's quiet, which is to be expected, but Jaskier is worried that he's keeping something from him, that he's worse off than he seems because Geralt seems quite happy to let himself be assisted - something he would regularly fight against.

As they make it back to the inn, Jaskier knows everyone is watching them and he scolds a couple of them for not offering to help when a man was injured. He takes Geralt up to their room and ducks out from under his arm, leaving him alone for a moment so he can get the fire lit and ready the bed for him. But before he can do either, he finds himself pressed up against the room door with Geralt's face mere inches from his own.

The dark veins and darker eyes are… sexier than they have any right to be and Jaskier swallows back a groan, pressing a gentle hand to Geralt's chest. The Witcher is still woozy and unsteady on his feet, but he resists being pressed back and Jaskier frowns at him.

"Mm, as much fun as this is, I doubt you'll think so highly of me in the morning, darling." Geralt smiles slyly and, for a split second, Jaskier worries that he's become Geralt's quarry, that the toxins running through Geralt's body are really as bad as he always claims they are and that he is, in fact, in real danger around him. But then Geralt leans in, bumping his nose against Jaskier's and any thoughts of fear dissipate immediately.

Instead, Jaskier ducks down and away, holding both arms out as Geralt follows him.

"Geralt," he asks, "what's gotten into you? Not that I mind, but-" he eyes him carefully and Geralt just grins at him again.

"Don't be coy with me, bard, this is what you brought me here for."

"Um. No? I brought you here to rest, to put you to bed not take you to bed, and find you something to eat. This is our room, Geralt, not my room. They only had one left and I didn't think you'd mind-"

"Our room?" Geralt interrupts and Jaskier nods. Worry creeps in and he looks closely at Geralt. His eyes are black still, though the veins are retreating and he seems brighter than usual, not so gloomy.

"Yes?"

"Why would we be sharing a room," Geralt huffs, "I've only just met you."

Jaskier gawks at him. It's not like Geralt to play games, that's Lambert's area of expertise - and this is stupid and obvious even for Lambert's tastes. But something is off about Geralt tonight. The worry turns to fear and Jaskier suddenly wonders if the man he's brought back is his Witcher at all.

He's never met a doppler, but he's heard Geralt tell stories about them. For the most part, they're harmless, but Jaskier suspects they can be paid or bribed like anyone else and the thought of a stranger here in the room with his things, with Geralt's things-

"I thought you wanted sex," maybe-Gealt says again, slightly confused but not at all dissuaded. Normally Jaskier would take it as a compliment that he was still so enthusiastic about fucking him, but this feels very, very wrong. And yet a part of him still considers it.

If it is a doppler, there's no harm really. He's consenting and Jaskier is more than happy to fuck a man with Geralt's face (he doesn't think too much about how that will affect him after it's fine). Right? But there's still a nagging feeling that this isn't a doppler. He'd know, he thinks, if he brought someone else home with him.

"Can you just-" he says, backing up toward the bed where his bag is sitting on the floor. Maybe-Geralt just watches him with confusion as he crouches down and pulls his dagger from his pack.

It's just a little thing, but it's pure silver, gifted to him by Geralt in case of emergency.

"I'm not going to hurt you," Jaskier says, holding it out, "I just need you to touch this."

Maybe-Geralt gives him a questioning look but reaches out and takes the dagger from him, turning it over in his hand. Nothing happens.

"Hmm," he says, "nice weight, well made. A little decorative maybe-"

"Doesn't hurt?" Jaskier asks and maybe-Geralt, who is seeming more and more like just Geralt laughs.

"Not unless you stab someone with it."

Jaskier valiantly ignores the little smirk and shuts his eyes.

"Okay," he says, "start at the beginning, what do you remember?"

"I… woke up in the forest and then you showed up," he smiles at him and Jaskier is already preparing a refusal.

"Listen, Geralt, I am your friend and you would probably even argue that-"

"How come? You're very handsome and you've been helpful and kind-"

"But it's not like that, Geralt. It never has been. I offered once and you were… less than impressed with me." Geralt says nothing and Jaskier takes the opportunity to reign the conversation in. "Can I clean you up now? Something is obviously wrong and we have to get you to a doctor."

"They said a healer was coming."

"I was thinking of someone a little more professional," Jaskier says and Geralt gives him a look. "We have a mutual friend who may be able to help. But for now, you've got me and I'd like to take a look at that wound."

Geralt relents and Jaskier finally succeeds in getting him sat on the bed without Geralt trying to come on to him again. He pulls Geralt's hair back and ties it out of his face, it'll need to be washed later, but he's not going to try and explain how it's fine for him to wash his hair but not fuck him right now.

The wound itself it's so bad, a bit swollen, a bit bruised, but the actual gash is small and very manageable. He cleans it first with water and then with vodka and applies a good amount of salve. He doesn't know which herbs Geralt combines for a poultice, so he bypasses that for the time being; when he gets him to Shani if the wound isn't healed on its own, she'll be able to tend to it.

He finds linen wrap at the bottom of his bag and presses it to Geralt's forehead, gently wrapping it around and tying it at his temple.

"Should be good for now. I'll go down and have supper brought up. Do you want a bath?"

"No. Thank you."

"Alright. Just… stay here, I'll be back."

As soon as the bedroom door is shut, Jaskier closes his eyes, but he waits until he reaches the main floor to lean against the wall and sigh. He has no idea what he's going to do. He never thought he'd be sad to see the day Geralt tried to get him into bed, but it feels so wrong. He'd rather spend the rest of his life failing to impress Geralt than spend another five minutes with him like this.

He takes his time ordering food, half-hoping that Geralt will be asleep by the time he gets back to the room, but their supper is ready quickly and Jaskier reluctantly takes it back up to their room, setting the tray on the table beside the bed.

Geralt at least spares him conversation while they eat and then Jaskier sets the dishes aside and strips out of his clothes for bed, already dreading having to share a bed. He keeps his shorts on and waits until Geralt is already in bed before climbing in after him.

The fire is burning low already, so he's not worried about it, but he blows out the candle beside the bed and pulls the blankets up over himself. He faces out into the room, preferring not to see Geralt right now. It feels weird to want to avoid him and it makes his chest ache because this is Geralt, but it's not. He just wants his Geralt back.

He shuts his eyes and tries to sleep but Geralt is cuddly like this, shifting closer and pressing up against him. He gets an arm around Jaskier's waist and Jaskier squeezes his eyes shut. It's everything he thinks about during the long nights sleeping around a campfire, but he can't let himself give into it. But it feels good because it's Geralt's arm around him, Geralt's chest pressed to his back, Geralt's breath against his neck. He very nearly whines because it's so damn unfair.

But then Geralt's lips press against the back of his neck and a little gasp escapes his lips, unintentionally. He ignores it the first time, but then he does it again and when he shifts closer, Jaskier can feel the length of his cock pressing against his ass. And fuck, that's hard to turn down, but Jaskier wrenches himself out of Geralt's arms.

"I can't," he whispers, unconvincing even to himself.

"You want it, though," Geralt hums, "I can smell it on you."

"Maybe," Jaskier confesses, "but not like this. Not when you don't know who I am. Not when fucking any other person in this place would be the same for you. I can't, Geralt. Go to sleep."

Jaskier hates how disappointed Geralt sounds when he pulls away, but he doesn't try again and Jaskier almost finds himself wishing he would. He tugs the blanket a little tighter around himself and pulls his knees to his chest, trying to force back the fear that he might not get his Geralt back.

In the morning, Geralt wakes first and Jaskier is relieved to find himself alone in bed, although he worries about where Geralt has gotten to. But when he drags himself out of bed, he finds Geralt packed and ready to go with a hearty breakfast waiting for him.

"What's all this?" Jaskier asks, "trying to get away from me all of a sudden?" It comes out more bitter than he intends and he winces at the tone of his own voice.

"You were so sad, last night," Geralt says quietly. "I don't know how to fix this, how to remember you, but I thought you'd want to get started early. I had breakfast brought up." He offers a soft smile, gesturing to the food and Jaskier's heart flip-flops.

"Oh. Thank you."

"I've eaten. Take your time and we can leave when you're finished."

"Right."

Geralt just sits on the bed while Jaskier eats his breakfast and contemplates the fact that this is still his Geralt, as much as it doesn't seem like it. His own things are still ready to go and he has no idea who to go to to collect the reward for the drowners, but it couldn't have been much anyway, so he's not worried about it. Geralt won't be pleased about it when he remembers himself, but there's only so much Jaskier knows how to handle and he wants to get Geralt to Shani as quickly as possible.

They head out mid-morning, and Geralt insists on letting Jaskier ride, which is… nice, in a concerning way. Roach is equally confused and concerned, but Jaskier does his best to comfort her. Thankfully, they aren't far from Oxenfurt or Jaskier isn't sure how he would cope.

Geralt walks alongside him, happy enough apparently to let Jaskier ride. He hums as they travel, a low wonderful sound that had Jaskier's heart fluttering, but it tears him in two because the song is his which means Geralt does remember something, but he's also so sad to see him this calm and relaxed knowing his goal is to take that away from him.

For now, he won't say anything, will just let Geralt enjoy the journey. When and if they find a way to get his memory back, he'll explain everything and give Geralt the chance to decline if he wishes. The selfish part of him hopes he doesn't.

They carry on in much the same way, but even when Geralt talks, Jaskier struggles to find it in himself to be too enthusiastic about anything. He's already in a difficult spot and he just wants to get through this, whatever the outcome. But it's obvious Geralt notices and that he's trying to distract him from it.

Jaskier tries to cheer up a little, if only for him, but he finds it difficult because he knows Geralt can tell how he's really feeling. But Jaskier appreciates the effort, either way.

"Remind me where we're going?" Geralt asks and Jaskier realizes he hasn't told him, Geralt just trusted him not to be leading him towards certain death.

"To Oxenfurt," he says, trying to sound cheerful, "it's one of my favourite places on the continent. I have a friend who practices medicine, she should be able to help."

"You don't have to pretend for me. I know you're sad, I know you miss him. Me. I wish I could give you your friend back."

Jaskier's heart clenches and he takes a steadying breath. "I'm fine," he says, "and I can't miss him, he's you and you're right here." He feels odd, like he's talking to a child, but Geralt just smiles at him, softly but like he doesn't believe him. Jaskier wouldn't either, he's never been good at lying to Geralt.

There's a heavy silence that falls after that and for some time they continue forward unspeaking. Jaskier twitches to feel the silence, to sing or talk to something just to keep from thinking that Geralt is upset with him. Then, abruptly, Geralt speaks.

"What kind of man am I?" Jaskier doesn't even have to think to answer that.

"You're kind," he says, "more than anyone gives you credit for. You always try to take the less violent route, even though your job is to kill monsters. You're generous and loving and you care so deeply for your friends and family."

He pauses for a moment, swallowing a lump in his throat. Because he's not included in that group. He knows Geralt must care for him, but not in the way he loves Eskel or Lambert, or even in the way his friendship with Shani or Zoltan comes so easily to him. Next to him, Geralt is silent for a moment and then.

"Jaskier are you-" Jaskier shuts his eyes, dreading whatever is coming next. "Do you love me?"

"Of course I do," he says, forcing cheeriness into his voice, "You're my best friend."

"But it's more than that, isn't it?"

"Geralt-"

"I know I don't really know you, but I… think I love you, too."

"Geralt, don't say that," Jaskier shuts his eyes tightly, "you can't know that."

"I feel it."

Jaskier wants to scream. It's so unfair to hear those words from Geralt's mouth and know they’re not true. He pushes Roach a little quicker forward, but Geralt stops him.

Roach comes to a full stop and Jaskier grows frowns at Geralt as he comes to stand next to him. Geralt raised a hand up, cupping his jaw and guiding him downward.

"I feel like you won't hear it from me again, so I love you." He's soft, almost breathless, and when he stretches up to kiss him, Jaskier doesn't stop him.

It's just soft, no urgency, no want for something more than just a kiss and Jaskier can't help but lean into it just a little. Because those are Geralt's hands on him, Geralt's mouth against his own, soft and slow.

But Geralt moans softly against him and Jaskier remembers himself with a start. He pulls back from the Witcher, almost unseating himself, but Geralt steadies him.

"I'm sorry," he breathes, "I can't, it's not fair-"

"To me?" Geralt asks and there's sadness behind the humour in his voice.

"Yes."

After that, they spend the rest of the day in silence and Jaskier feels bad for Geralt - he can't imagine losing his memory and not knowing who he is - but he can't stand the fruitless hope. Because Geralt doesn't love him, he's made it known that they're not friends and how could Jaskier hope for more when he can't even attain friendship?

Then again, the man walking next to him now still is Geralt. He doesn't feel like Geralt and he doesn't act like Geralt, but he is. Jaskier isn't sure how people usually react when they lose their memories, so he doesn't have a basis to judge by, but it is still Geralt.

When they stop for the night, Geralt sleeps close enough to keep him warm but doesn't cuddle up like he did the night before and Jaskier hates himself for it. Maybe Geralt has a chance here at a new life, one where he can be happy and not weighed down by the memory of his childhood. And if he does, if he wants it, who is Jaskier to deny him that?

He's not sure he could be a part of it, though. Even thinking about him now, wishing Geralt would come a little closer, curl an arm around his middle, he feels like he's betraying his friend, betraying the old Geralt as the case may be.

Either way, he'll get Geralt to Oxenfurt so they can speak to Shani and see if there's anything that can be done. If there's not, he doesn't have to worry about making the decision to leave or stay, but if there is- If there is a chance Geralt can regain his memories, Jaskier has to let him make that choice alone and then make his own depending on what Geralt wants.

They reach Oxenfurt a few days later after what feels like a month-long journey and Jaskier is just glad to be somewhere warm where he can have his own room and not have to worry about wanting to be close. He leads them immediately to the inn and rents two separate rooms. It's fairly costly and he's reminded of the reason they needed to take the last contract, but he could be in Oxenfurt for a while depending on how this goes and he'll be able to pick up work easily enough.

Jaskier heads up to his room and makes sure Geralt gets settled, then he heads down and orders food and a bath up to Geralt's room before heading out to find Shani.

The first place he looks is the hospital, but the nurse working informs him that Shani has her own clinic now and she's located near the centre of town. Jaskier thanks her and doubles back, following the directions she'd given. Shani's clinic is tucked between two other buildings and Jaskier knocks before entering. There's no one inside but it's only a moment before Shani emerges from a back room, the neutral look on her face quickly growing into a smile. When Jaskier doesn't return the gesture she frowns.

"I take it this isn't a personal visit," she says and Jaskier can feel something inside him slip. He shakes his head.

"No, I'm sorry. I- we need your help."

"Geralt?" she asks and the last bit of his self-control gives way and he chokes on a sob. "Hey," she says, "come sit down."

Shani guides him to a back room and sits him down on a plush soft, surprisingly nice for a medical clinic. She shuts and locks the door behind them and sits next to him.

"What's wrong?"

"It's Geralt," he chokes, "hes'-" he takes a deep breath, swallowing back another sob. "Shani, he doesn't know who he is. He doesn't know who I am."

"Oh. What happened?"

"I wasn't there. I just- they came to get me because no one else would get near him. It was just supposed to be a drowner contract but he got hit in the head or something. I don't know what to do."

"Where is he now?"

"Back at the inn."

"Here?" she asks. Jaskier nods. "Why don't you take me to him, I'll take a look."

"I- I don't know if he'll want to be fixed? He came with me but Shani, he seems happy."

"Why don't we go and see him first. We'll figure out what's wrong before worrying too much, hm?" Jaskier agrees and Shani packs a bag and they head for the inn.

They find Geralt in his room, having eaten and bathed and he looks good. He's got his hair down around his shoulders and he's shirtless and Jaskier has to avert his eyes. He takes a seat in the corner and lets Shani introduce herself and asks to look him over. Jaskier stays quiet and watches cautiously as Geralt easily lets Shani look him over. Once she's finished with his body, she examines his head.

"Well," she says at last, "you obviously took a pretty hefty blow to your head, but the good news is it should be simple to reverse the memory loss."

"Good," Geralt says quickly. He spares a glance for Jaskier before turning back to Shani. "What do we have to do?"

"It's simple really, just a shock to your system should do it. I have a friend who can help."

As Shani goes into the details, Jaskier tunes out. He hears something about neurons, but he's more concerned about getting Geralt alone for a couple of minutes before he makes a decision. He loves Geralt, wants nothing more than for him to be happy, so he wants him to go into this knowing everything Jaskier can tell him.

"Can we have a moment Shani?" he asks and Geralt looks at him as Shani nods and ducks out of the room.

"You want to do it?" Jaskier asks and Geralt nods.

"Why wouldn't I?"

"You're happier like this," Jaskier whispers, "Geralt, I've never seen you this relaxed. In twenty years, you've always been miserable. I just- I want you to make an informed decision."

"You say you want me to be happy," Geralt says, "but since I told you I didn't know who you were you've been so sad. How is it fair for me to be happy like you say when you're still suffering." He tips Jaskier's chin up with two fingers and looks into his eyes. "What I said before, I wasn't lying. I don't know where all these feelings are coming from but I know you are so important to me."

He pulls up a smile and Jaskier knows how this is going to end. And he'll be happy to have his Geralt back, but know him like this? To know this Geralt wants him, even in some weird, imaginary way? He doesn't know how he'll be able to continue.

"Okay," Jaskier relents. "I just… wanted you to know what you were getting into."

"I'm sure it can't be all bad. I have you."

Jaskier's heart clenches, but he doesn't get another chance to speak because Shani enters the room. Thankfully, Geralt has stopped touching him, but he's still close and she gives Jaskier a look.

"I put out a call to my friend," she says, holding up a box that looks vaguely familiar. "Xenovox," she explains, "Marilla is a mage. She should be here in the morning."

It's late afternoon now, so that means spending another night at the inn and Jaskier is torn. On the one hand, he wants Geralt to be back to normal, but on the other- he's selfish and he wants Geralt like this. He wants so badly to have anything and- no. No, he can't.

Shani leaves them shortly after assuring Jaskier that it will be alright, that Geralt will be fine. He wishes these were better circumstances, that they had come to visit Shani instead of asking for her help, but she waves him off with a smile.

"Come and visit when things are back to normal," she says, "I'll see you in the morning."

Jaskier sees her off and then returns to the room to find Geralt sitting on the edge of the bed, contemplating. He's still shirtless and Jaskier finds it hard to look at him directly. He sits in the bed next to him, hands folded in his lap.

"Well," Geralt says, "we have the night. Things will be different after I get my memory back, right?" He turns, reaching out to cup Jaskier's cheek. "Be with me tonight," he breathes, "just for tonight, let me take care of you while I have the chance."

Jaskier huffs a humourless laugh. "That's the problem, you always have the chance, but you never want to take it."

"Then let me now," he hums and his hand falls to Jaskier's thigh.

And it's so tempting. Because Geralt is right here offering everything he's ever wanted, if only for a night. But this is not the Geralt he fell in love with. This is not truly his Geralt's consent. When Jaskier looks up, it's obvious that Geralt knows his answer before he even speaks.

"I'm an idiot," he says softly, "to not jump at the chance to be with you. If I don't remember tomorrow, I want you to know you're important to me." Jaskier nods weakly, but he can't find the words. "Maybe we should turn in early? We have a long day tomorrow, I think."

Jaskier nods and he lets Geralt pull him down to the bed and tonight, he lets himself be held, curls into Geralt's hold and presses his nose into his neck. He doesn't let himself think, just buries himself in Geralt's scent, so warm and familiar and shuts off his mind.

Jaskier awakes to a knock on the door and realizes he's still in his clothes from yesterday. Geralt answers the door to Shani and Marilla, and Jaskier is only just climbing out of bed when they come into the room. He gets a look from Shani, but if she's feeling any particular kind of way about finding him in Geralt's bed, she doesn't say anything.

The actual process doesn't take any time at all. Marilla comes in and does something to Geralt, what she does is unclear but he falls unconscious and Jaskier panics at first, but Shani holds him back.

"Sorry," she says, "I should have warned you."

Jaskier does his best to make Geralt comfortable in the bed and he leaves with the two women to let him sleep. He thanks Marilla desperately and asks her to stay until he wakes, but she tells him she has other business to attend to and after dipping down to kiss Shani briefly, she disappears down the stairs.

"Friend, huh?" Jaskier asks and Shani smiles at him.

"Don't try to change the subject."

"Actually, can I ask you about something?"

"Of course. Why don't we get a drink, he could be out for a couple of hours."

They head down to the common area and Shani orders them a pair of drinks while Jaskier finds a table out of the way. He's never understood why Geralt likes corner tables, but right now he gets it. He doesn't want anyone to talk to him and he just wants to be able to sit and drink with Shani.

When she returns, she slides his drink across to him and slips into her seat.

"What did you want to ask about?"

"Uh," Jaskier starts, turning his mug in his hands, "when I first took Geralt back to our room, just after he was hurt. He tried to kiss me. He… thought I was bringing him back there to fuck him."

"Oh."

"You don't sound surprised."

"I'm not, really. I'm surprised he acted on it, but-"

"What does that mean?"

"Geralt doesn't have any brain damage," Shani explains, "something just… got knocked loose, so to speak. He was still him, Jaskier. His thoughts, his feelings? That was all him, Jask."

"You're telling me-" abruptly, the memory of Geralt telling him he loved him comes back to him and his mouth goes dry. "You're telling me that was just him?"

"Mmhm. Without all the baggage and self-loathing."

"I don't- he can't- if he wanted me that way, I would know."

"Would you?" Shani asks, "because I think you would be the last person to know. Wait till he wakes up, talk to him."

"Yeah, I know. Thanks, Shani, for this and for everything."

"Happy to help."

They finish their drinks and Shani heads home. Jaskier thanks her again and promises to visit when things are better and waits until she's gone before heading back up to Geralt's room.

The first thing Geralt knows when he wakes up, is a pain in his head. He blinks awake to find himself in a bed in a nondescript inn. A better look around finds Jaskier asleep in a chair next to him, but he stirs as Geralt sits up and then he's scrambling to pass Geralt a mug of water.

He feels woozy, but Jaskier's presence soothes him; he knows from experience that Jaskier would never let anything happen to him and is willing to risk his own health and safety to assure it. There's no one else he'd rather see upon waking. But he doesn't remember falling asleep. The last thing he remembers is taking a hit and stumbling away from the scene.

"Geralt?" Jaskier asks gently. He looks up and the first thing he notices when he looks at Jaskier is how sad he is. The emotion wafts off of him, but Geralt doesn't need his heightened sense of smell to be able to tell.

"What's wrong?" he mumbles, his voice thick.

"Tell me what you remember. From the start."

Geralt thinks back, going through the events of the hunt, none of which are very interesting until he was thrown into a tree. Water hag, he remembers, chucked mud and blinded him. Then he's stumbling away, all three monsters dead and then- fuck.

His gaze snaps up to Jaskier's face, looking for any sign of recognition, but he remains eerily calm, even as Geralt recollects kissing him, pressing him up against a wall and- fuck, what was he thinking? The more he thinks about it, the more comes back to him, but in bits and pieces.

Kissing him, touching him, pressing up against him in bed. The memories are all foggy, scattered, but they feel too real to have been a dream. But Jaskier shows no signs of being assaulted by him.

"I'm-" he starts, but sorry doesn't feel like it's enough. Jaskier is open with his affections, but he wouldn't be okay with that.

Geralt tries to push himself up, to get out of bed and away from Jaskier because he can't stand the thought of doing something like that. He can't remember why he did, but the more he thinks about it, the more real it feels.

"Geralt," Jaskier says firmly, "I'm not mad. But I think we need to talk if you're up for it."

He doesn't want to talk to Jaskier. He would rather find out from someone else, he can't bear to hear the words from Jaskier. And he knows Shani was there. Shani and another woman who he didn't recognize.

"Where's Shani?" he asks.

"She's gone home, darling. Are you hungry? Can I get you anything?"

Geralt looks up at him and he feels hopeless. Jaskier is exhausted, he can see the bags under his eyes, the dark circles. And he doesn't seem any less sad than he did initially. It doesn't take much to realize what happened.

"I'm sorry," Geralt mumbles, "about what I did- when I kissed you, I-"

Jaskier stops, already halfway toward the door and sighs deeply, stopping in his tracks before turning around.

"Okay," he says, "we're talking about this now, then." He comes back and seats himself on the end of the bed, facing him. "Tell me exactly what you remember, Geralt."

"I remember taking the contract, fighting off the drowners - and a water hag - got mud in my eyes, stumbled and something hit me, threw me into a tree. Probably one of the drowners pushed me. I took them out, started back toward town but I must have passed out, the next thing I remember is-"

"Me."

"Yeah. You took me back to our room, I thought you were- I thought you wanted sex."

"I know, you were fairly adamant about that."

"Fuck. Jaskier I'm sorry-"

"You didn't know who I was. If a handsome stranger took me back to his room, I'd think the same. When you didn't know who I was I was… terrified. I didn't know if I'd get you back." They're both silent for a moment and then Jaskier prompts him to continue.

"I remember that. I remember talking to you," he lowers his eyes, "I told you I loved you, I don't know why." Immediately Jaskier's sadness intensifies and he catches it in the twitch of his lip, the way he glances away.

"You asked if I was in love with you," Jaskier explains, "and told me you loved me. What else do you remember?"

"I remember asking you to- suggesting we- I propositioned you. And I remember being in bed- Jaskier, did we-?" He can't imagine anything worse than sleeping with Jaskier while he's not himself, than having the chance to be with him and not truly being present in the moment.

Because he certainly won't have another chance, especially not now that he's gone and muddled things up.

"No," Jaskier confirms and for the first time a small smile tugs at his lips, "not that you didn't try. But It didn't feel right. I knew when you had your memories back, you'd hate me for it and I couldn't-"

"I could never hate you," Geralt interrupts, "if anything I'd hate myself for pushing you into it."

"No," Jaskier says, shaking his head, "Geralt you don't understand. I wanted to. I wanted so badly to just say yes last night when you asked me. I tried to work it around in some way that you wouldn't hate me for taking advantage, but every time I just feel terrible to even think about it. The reason I didn't sleep with you is because I couldn't bear the thought of fucking you when it wasn't really you. Because I didn't want him, even if he was you. I wanted- I want this you."

"You do," Geralt snorts, "someone who throws himself at his friend because he doesn't remember, someone who tells him he loves him unprompted-"

"Do you think," Jaskier suggests, and it's clear by the look on his face that he's considering his words very carefully. "That maybe what you said to me and what you did- what you offered," he corrects quickly, "was because you do have feelings for me?" His voice shakes just faintly and Geralt can smell the anxiousness coming off of him.

It's cloying, overwhelming and it mingles with the scent of sadness and fear and just the faintest hint of something hopeful.

"It's just that Shani said there was nothing wrong with your mind, it was still you in there when you asked, when you said that." Jaskier looks up at him and Geralt feels years of emotion welling up inside him and he doesn't know how to hold it back any longer, not what Jaskier is asking him outright.

"Jaskier, I-" he takes a deep breath, focuses on a mark on the blanket between them. "I don't remember everything. But I did mean what I said. I do… I love you," he whispers, "I didn't want you to think less of me or," he glances up and Jaskier's eyes are shiny like he's trying not to cry. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for you to find out like this."

"I'm not sad," Jaskier says, "Geralt, I have been following you around for half my life, caring for you, singing about you and you didn't think for maybe a moment that I could love you back?"

"You-" Geralt stumbles over his words as Jaskier's confession sinks in. "You sleep with everyone. Everyone but-"

"You don't even call me friend, Geralt. Why would I try and take you to bed with me thinking you don't care enough to call me your friend?"

"Oh."

"Oh? You didn't consider that?"

"You're not my friend," Geralt says, by way of explanation, "but you're not a lover, either. You're not a brother. Not a comrade. I don't know what you are."

"Oh."

"But you could be… a lover?" the word feels strangely heavy in his mouth and he nearly regrets saying it at all until he sees the way Jaskier's eyes light up. A smile tugs at Geralt's lips and he leans forward, reaching out to take Jaskier's hand, tentatively turning it over.

"Jaskier," he whispers, "can I kiss you?" A wide grin spreads across his face and Jaskier tips forward toward him.

"Darling, I thought you'd never ask."

#geraskier #memory loss #200 fic celebration #no.1 #the witcher #rex writes

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Note

🥺 babe 🥺 bAbE

What if Jask gets sick at Kaer Morhen but tries to hide it from Geralt bc he doesn't want him to think he's gross/weak/etc? And Geralt has the Feelings Braincell for once?

oh babe... thank you

tw: sickness, falling unconscious, fever, whump/angst with a happy ending

---

Jaskier knew he had a fever the moment he woke up. He could feel it burning beneath this skin like a forge, flushing his face a more vibrant shade of pink than usual. He glared at his reflection in the small, round mirror above his dressing table and willed himself to feel better. It was his first winter at Kaer Morhen, and he didn’t want Geralt to think he’d made a mistake by inviting Jaskier along to stay. The bard knew that his stoic, self-loathing Witcher would blame himself immediately for any misfortune or illness that befell Jaskier. Geralt might even reconsider inviting him back again someday. So he had to keep his little bug a secret until he was well. Surely it was nothing major. Surely it would pass after a few days, unnoticed and unremarkable.

He should have known better.

Jaskier dabbed a bit more perfume than usual (which was generally none at all) beneath his ears and along his wrists. He hoped the peony-lavender mixture would mask whatever kind of scent his illness might carry and slowly, carefully made his way down the long stone staircase that led from the guest bedroom to the enormous kitchen. His limbs felt achy and tired, even though he’d slept heavily the night previous. His head sat heavy and unbalanced atop his shoulders; the world wavered and spun around him as he desperately tried to keep from pitching sideways into the wall.

“You alright there, boy?” Vesemir asked, catching his eye from the bottom of the stairs. “You seem a bit… nervous.”

Maybe his anxiety was doing a better job of hiding his secret than the perfume.

“Just a little wool between my ears this morning,” the bard laughed brightly, ignoring the searing pain that throbbed through his chest with the movement, “I think I might go chop some wood and see if the brisk mountain air helps clear it out faster.”

“Hmm,” the eldest Wolf nodded sagely. There was no doubt which teacher Geralt had admired most as a pup. “Alright. Be safe, take care. I’ll send someone to fetch you when breakfast is ready.”

“Thank you, Vesemir,” Jaskier bowed shallowly and headed for the kitchen’s back door. He took the axe into his hands and tried not to sway on his feet from the added weight. The bard covered his tracks by throwing a smile back over his shoulder and pushing the door open. “See you for breakfast!”

He stepped out of the keep and let the heavy slab of wood slam shut behind him. The early morning sky above Kaer Morhen was cloudless and the sun was bright, blinding him entirely. His situation only worsened when the sudden change in temperature, from the warm kitchen to the freezing mountainside, punched the air from his lungs in one thick cloud. He struggled to regain it as he wove his way through the snow drifts to the woodpile. Slowly, and with great effort, Jaskier lined up a thick log to be split.

The world felt watery and far away. His hand, which he knew to be attached to the end of his arm by some miracle, would not obey his command to pick up the axe again. His lungs felt heavy in his chest cavity and his legs suddenly ached with a fierce intensity.

With a quiet cry of protest against his own body failing him, Jaskier collapsed into the snow.

---

Jaskier’s heartbeat was so slow and quiet, his limbs unmoving and his lips nearly blue from the cold; Geralt wasn’t sure he’d ever been so scared before in his life. He turned to Vesemir and asked, barely keeping the frantic terror from clawing its way out of his throat: “How long was he out there?”

“Half an hour at most,” the grey Wolf shrugged. “I don’t really remember, Geralt. I was busy taking care of the breakfast arrangements.”

“Fuck!”

“Calm down,” Eskel ordered. He frowned at Geralt from his place at Jaskier’s opposite side. He’d helped carry the bard from the courtyard to Geralt’s room and was just as worried about the human’s wellbeing. “Panicking won’t help him. Now, what’s the problem?”

“It’s hard to tell over all that stupid perfume,” Lambert snarled. “Stupid fucking bard fucking knew we would be able to smell it on him. He covered his gods-damned tracks.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt murmured, having grown suddenly calm. He let the back of his knuckles drag softly across the bard’s too-hot cheek until he could stick a stray lock of sweaty brown hair back behind his ear. “You idiot.”

The bard shifted against the blanket they’d laid him on, his brow wrinkling. His arms twitched slightly, as if he was trying to move them, and he whined plaintively: “G’ralt.”

“I’m here, Jask,” the Witcher replied quickly, forgetting they weren’t alone in the room. He took one of the bard’s freezing hands into his own and began rubbing the warmth back into his fingers. “Don’t worry, we’ll get you better. You’ll be alright.”

“Who are you trying to reassure?” Lambert huffed a short laugh. “You or the bard?”

“Leave off,” Eskel shot his younger brother a glare. The redhead rolled his eyes and moved to lean against the wall near the door. Eskel continued speaking to Lambert, but his eyes were back on Jaskier, who kept trying to get closer to Geralt even in his sleep. “Why don’t you go grab some clean clothes from his room while we get him warmed up and conscious again.”

“Fine,” Lambert spat. But he took off at a quick trot, regardless.

“Geralt, get his wet clothes off and get him wrapped up. Eskel, you come with me to the kitchen. I’ll need help carrying things and I’m sure the bard would prefer some privacy in this particular matter.”

Eskel nodded his agreement and followed Vesemir from the room, leaving Geralt alone with Jaskier. The White Wolf hurried to undress and swaddle the bard with a warm, heavy wool blanket and several furs, talking all the while in a low, worried voice. “Fuck, Jaskier. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry this happened and that you- Why did you hide it? Why wouldn’t you- Are you afraid of me? Is that why you didn’t come to me for help?”

Jaskier’s lids fluttered open and Geralt watched with nervous anticipation as two of the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen, blue as cornflowers and brighter than the spring sky, tried their best to focus on his face. “Geralt?”

“I’m here, Jaskier. What’s ailing you? Please, tell me how I can help you.”

“Hurts,” the bard managed to groan. “To breathe.”

“Fuck,” Geralt growled. “We need to get you warm. Lambert should be back with your clothes by now.”

Jaskier’s head lolled back against the pillow and he struggled to reach for his Witcher, “Hold me.”

“Huh?”

“I’ll warm up-” he gasped between words, as if every syllable pained him to expel “-faster if… you hold me.”

“Hmm,” Geralt’s brows furrowed in frustration. He knew Jaskier was right, that he’d feel better faster with skin-on-skin contact, but he also wanted to hold Jaskier for other, less emergency-based reasons. That was unacceptable. Losing Jaskier to death or sickness or other human reasons was intolerable but losing him, in all senses of the word, because of Geralt’s impossible feelings? That would be truly horrendous.

The warring factions of his heart were still clamoring over a decision when Eskel and Vesemir re-entered carrying two large trays. One was covered with foodstuffs and the other held an enormous clay teapot and mugs. A small pot of honey, gathered from Vesemir’s very own beehives, was the most obvious sign of affection Geralt had ever seen the older man display for a near-stranger.

“I’m gonna… get… spoiled,” Jaskier gasped. The eldest Wolf shot Geralt a glare.

“Why aren’t you in there with him? You know the best way to warm up a hypothermic person is skin contact, Geralt! I certainly taught you better than this.”

“I didn’t-” he stuttered. “I wasn’t-”

“He’s afraid,” Jaskier smiled sadly, cuddling himself deeper into the furs as he turned his gaze towards the fire. All three of the Witchers could smell his sadness, even more potent than the illness ravaging his delicate human body. Geralt winced when his brother and father glared at him in tandem, expressions nearly matching in fury. The bard was still looking away, watching the flames send dancing patterns of light against the stone walls. “Don’t worry… won’t ask… for any more.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt whispered, taking a seat on the edge of the mattress. “May I hold you?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that’s our cue to leave,” Vesemir smiled beneath his mustache. Jaskier was too tired to blush, and opted to bury his head in Geralt’s shoulder instead. “Come along, Eskel. Let’s see what Lambert has gotten up to.”

“What about Jaskier’s clothes?”

“He can borrow Geralt’s for now. I’m sure our White Wolf won’t mind sharing; he’s the possessive type, after all.”

Geralt rolled his eyes and grumbled out of habit more than disagreement.

When Vesemir and Eskel had gone for good and the door was closed, Geralt pulled Jaskier out of the furs and removed his own shirt. He settled the bard against his chest and buried his nose in Jaskier’s dark hair, breathing in the scents of sweat and sickness and now, thank the gods, tangy-bright happiness. “Gods, Jaskier. Don’t scare me like that ever again. I can’t lose you.”

“I didn’t… want… to disappoint.”

“You never do and never will,” Geralt intoned. He pulled the furs over them both and splayed his large hands across Jaskier’s back. The bard’s skin was overly hot in some places and freezing in others; Geralt buried his panic in order to care for... for the man he loved. He took a deep breath and rubbed slow circles between the bard’s shoulder blades. “I… I love you, Jaskier.”

“Hmm,” the bard hummed tunelessly. “Love you… too.”

Geralt helped him sit up and drink a mug of tea. He listened, slowly allowing himself to relax, as Jaskier’s breathing eased and his heartbeat balanced. When the tea was gone and the fire was re-built to Geralt’s satisfaction, the Witcher tucked Jaskier’s head beneath his chin and wrapped his arms around the bard’s shoulders. “Oh, my little lark. I’ve been so foolish for too long.”

“Yeah,” Jaskier grinned into the Witcher’s warm pectoral. “Me... too.”

“Well, we’ll have plenty of time when you feel better,” Geralt murmured, lips pressing over and over to the top of the bard’s head. Jaskier couldn’t keep himself from smiling, even as he drifted back to sleep. The Witcher felt something settle in his chest when he whispered: “Rest up, dear heart. There are many more adventures to be had.”

#geraskier #sickfic #geraskier sickfic #geraskier fluff #getting together #bouncey's endless getting together fics #jaskier whump #winter at kaer morhen #wifey's prompts #comfy's prompts #anything for you boo #geraskier fluffiness #geraskier ficlet

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