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artistsfuneral · 2 years

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It's Ciri's sixteenth birthday when she asks her Dad for a polaroid camera. Geralt raises an eyebrow at her, the sentence "I'm not a stupid hipster, Daaaad!" engraved in his mind. But it's her birthday, so he can't really say no, can he?

"If you really want one," he says, "then go up to the attic and look through your Mom's highschool boxes. You can have hers."

Ciri's eyes widen in wonder. She doesn't remember much about her parents, most of it comes from stories other people told her. Often being told how much she resembles her mother, Ciri has started to mimic Pavetta - hoping to connect with her in some way.

So,

Ciri spends her morning in the attic. Sitting on the floor and carefully going through some of the boxes that are labeled "Pavetta - senior year". There's a lot of memories hidden in cardboard treasure chests and she takes her time to enjoy a bit of her Mom's life.

She finds the camera. It's a charming old thing, safely put away in a brightly colored shoulder bag that is adorned with stickers and pins and doodles. It's well loved.

She plays around with it for a bit and to her joy it still works. Then she notices the side pocket on the bag where a little stack of photos must've gone unnoticed. Ciri carefully pulls the pictures out and her heart flutters with excitement as she sees her Mom wildly grinning at her, Ciri's father Duny, standing in the background, talking to somebody.

Flipping through the photos she gets a great inside of what her Mom's highschool time must've been like. The best thing about the find, though, are the pictures Pavetta took of Geralt. She knows Pavetta, Geralt and two other friends were a band in highschool, but getting to see it is a whole new experience. To her surprise, her Dad looks kind of cool behind a set of drums.

And then she sees it. Her eyes grow huge and in disbelief she pulls the photo closer to her head. It's a band picture. Her Mom, her father, her Dad, another girl and an awfully familiar face grin back at her.

Ciri does what every teenager would have done. She pulls out her phone and takes a picture of the polaroid, posts it online with the caption

"so apparently my Mom was in a band with leadsinger (at)JaskiertheBard"

Her post goes viral over night. A few days later her favorite singer and songwriter has sent her a chat request.

Ciri accepts.

part 1?

(read full fic here)

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #geraskier #witcher #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ciri #cirilla fiona elen riannon #modern au #band au

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idiopath-fic-smile · 6 months

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so i'm listening to 1960s novelty Halloween songs again (a thing i highly recommend doing in October btw) and i think it would be funny if there was a story where a singer in a silly 1960s monster-themed novelty band meets like an actual vampire or werewolf or something, who is at first insulted by the whole concept, then reluctantly amused when all of the songs turn out to be about how everybody wants to date a monster. like, not in an objectifying way, just very early 1960s vibes "gosh, witches are neat!" or whatever

i probably won't write it but i say this now because part of me thinks this has to already exist. there are so many monster-adjacent fandoms out there. anyway, i guess hook me up if you know of one because i really think it could be a gas.

#i'd read this in any fandom if it was as funny as it is in my head #(i feel like some sort of Witcher AU would be an obvious place to start maybe?)#update: i just searched ao3 for halloween novelty band and got nothing so maybe it doesn't exist???

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dreamofbecoming · 2 years

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this isn’t ready for ao3 yet bc i have more planned and i don’t want to make it chaptered, but i’m actually quite pleased with how this turned out, so please enjoy this first taste of my banshee/siren hybrid jaskier story!

part 2

minor warning for gore

wc 745

now on ao3

----

Jaskier knows the taste of death.

He tastes it more often than he’d like (which is to say, at all); every few towns or so, whenever he makes eye contact with the wrong person. An old woman putting out her washing, a young man in a tavern, puffed up and boasting while his fellows egg him on to show off, a girl with bruises on her arms and her eyes downcast, walking in the shadow of her husband. The sickly taste of rot will coat the back of his tongue and he’ll feel a Song rising in his throat.

He never Sings it.

He’s tasted the deaths of a hundred strangers, and while his heart breaks a little every time, he fights down the Song and swallows the rotten bile and turns away, knowing he has no power here. There is nothing he can do for them, now.

This time is different.

This time, the Song he can feel building in his chest isn’t for a stranger.

It’s for Geralt.

Something— breaks, inside him. The Song, which has always before felt like a living thing unto itself, separate from the man who hosts it, just waiting to be unleashed, expands to fill his lungs. For a moment, Jaskier chokes on the sudden absence of air, before his world narrows down to a single thought: No.

He feels the moment when the magic inside him changes, when the Song becomes a part of him instead of simply a parasite. For the first time since his failed training as a child, he lets it loose.

The first to fall is the bowman in the treeline, the one Jaskier saw but Geralt didn’t. Jaskier is too far away to see his face when his hands turn the crossbow on himself, but he can taste the moment when his body falls from his perch, leaving his fellows without cover.

Geralt has felled four of the remaining bandits, but three still encircle him, and Jaskier can see him slowing.

“A single thread

hangs limply down,

and I breathe,

‘Not now,

not now,’”

All three men pull back from their attack on Geralt in an instant. The witcher doesn’t stay his strike and cuts down the one immediately in front of him before whirling to stare at Jaskier in shock, but Jaskier can’t stop now. The Song isn’t finished. Geralt isn’t safe.

“And I find you all

unwoven,

trying desperately

to sew,”

The two bandits left take jerky steps towards each other, swords raised, eyes wild and terrified. The leader makes a low, despairing sound as his friend’s innards spill beneath his blade.

“And I know the kindest thing

is to leave you

alone.”

As the last man drags his own dagger across his throat, his eyes never leave Jaskier’s.

The magic cuts off abruptly, the Song finished with the death fulfilled. Not Geralt’s death, somehow, not anymore. He’s done what he swore he never would, he’s outed himself as a monster, but Geralt is still warm and breathing behind him, so it was worth it. Whatever fate he meets at his witcher’s hands, it was worth it.

Jaskier can taste nothing but decay and blood, and he doubles over, his stomach heaving painfully as he expels his breakfast.

He’s still hunched over the ground, coughing on the lingering taste of death while spots dance in his vision, when he hears Geralt come up behind him. His footsteps are more tentative than Jaskier is used to. Understandably cautious around an unknown threat, Jaskier thinks bitterly. He’d known it was coming, it’s what he expected, but it still chafes. Most of all, he just wishes he had more time. More time with Geralt, but just more time in general.

Still, he won’t die crouched in a puddle of his own vomit like some beast. Whatever his parentage, he has more dignity than that. He’ll meet Geralt’s silver sword standing tall, and it will still be a better death than he could have met if he’d stayed at home, like his sire had expected. Love doesn’t need to be spoken to be worth dying for, after all.

Except, the spots in his vision don’t fade when he stands, like he’d expected; in fact, they grow. He sways on his feet as the world tilts alarmingly. The last thing he sees before the world goes totally black is Geralt, hands empty of silver or steel, lunging to catch him, his eyes wide with concern.

“Jaskier!”

#the witcher #twn #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #creature!jaskier #banshee!jaskier #siren!jaskier #my writing #the amazing devil lyrics as always #will i ever use another band in a witcher fic? i think the fuck not #y’all the amount of lore and backstory and magical mechanics i have come up with for this au is wild #will i use most of it?#almost certainly not #but you can bet your ass i’ve spent at least 4 hours nailing down exactly how a siren and a banshee would reproduce #both genetically and physiologically #siren social structures?#got those #exactly how siren powers and banshee powers might combine (aka how can i justify jaskier being able to do whatever i want him to do)?#yep it’s all up here #i’m actually really excited for where this one is going y’all i hope you like it!!!

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chaptersinprogress · 2 years

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au | @ciriweek 2022 | brief ciri/mistle | no cws

Ciri's breath entered and left her lungs in short, panicked bursts.

The pits of her tank top were soaked, sweat beading along her hairline and upper lip even as her muscles jittered and trembled from the frigid air, sending visible tremors along her frame.

The announcer's voice was painfully loud and yet so far away, the din of the crowd's cheers a muted roar.

Her palms remained cold and clammy no matter the number of times she wiped them on the sides of her black skinny jeans, and she chewed her bottom lip frantically, desperately resisting the urge to turn and flee.

Then warm arms wrapped themselves around, a chest pressing against her back. The familiar scent of cigarette smoke and rose perfume twined around their figures.

"Nervous, my Falcon?" Mistle breathed into Ciri's neck.

"No," Ciri lied.

Mistle laughed, the sound deep and throaty.

"Must be just the cold then," she murmured into Ciri's ear. "Don't worry, Falka, I'll keep you warm."

Mistle kept her word, the two of them swaying gently in place, the heat of her body a searing warmth. Ciri's breathing and pulse rate steadily slowed back to something in the normal range.

Then the announcer called for the next act. And Ciri's breathing and pulse spiked again as whispers broke out around them.

"Steady, Falka," said Mistle, holding her tighter. "Steady."

"I can't do it," Ciri rushed out. "I'm sorry, I can't!"

"You can," Mistle told her. "If you're scared, just look out into the audience, then close your eyes. And picture it being just us. It's just us in the garage."

The announcer called for them again.

Mistle pressed a fierce kiss to the side of Ciri's head, then pulled back to stand beside her. She took hold of Ciri's hand and squeezed it. Then grinned at her.

"Let's go, people!" she yelled and then ran out, Ciri dragged along stumbling in her wake.

The rest of the gang whooped and hollered as they raced out on the girls' heels. Ciri abruptly found herself front and centre on stage. A microphone was smacked into her hand and she gripped it tightly, bringing it up to her lips automatically.

The stage lights blinded her, the audience a frothing sea of black interspersed with glowing lights. They screamed and cheered, the noise assaulting her from all sides.

Somewhere out in that seething mass were Mama, Geralt, Dandelion and the rest of the Hanza, all of them waiting on her with eagerness and pride.

"Hello, fuckers! How're y'all feeling tonight?" Ciri cried.

The audience roared back at them: clapping, whistling and shrieking. Ciri's blood thundered in her ears, adrenaline sharpening all of her senses and making her body tingle.

"You've all been very eager to watch us," she told them. "But before we start the show, I thought you'd like to know who all are responsible for making this happen."

Applause and whistles came back at her.

"First off, we have... Iskra on the electric!" she cried.

Iskra played a quick riff to even more screams and shouts.

"Reef on rhythm!"

A short melody that was received equally enthusiastically.

"Mistle on bass!"

A strum of strings that could be felt in their chests.

"Asse on the keys!"

Fingers were dragged along a keyboard.

"Kayleigh on the drums!"

The crash of cymbals.

"Not forgetting our lovely manager, Giselher, of course," she said with a wink.

The whoops and cheers only grew louder.

"Get ready to scream your hearts out everybody," she told them, flicking her hair. "I'm Ciri, on vocals, and together, we're Ciri and the Rats!"

Mistle pressed against her, a ballast in the storm, and Ciri closed her eyes and smiled ferociously. It was just them, the gang of misfits, playing late into the night in Giselher's garage.

"And one! And two! One, two, three, go!"

#chaptersinprogress #ciri week 2022 #the witcher books #cirilla fiona elen riannon #cirilla #ciri & the rats #mistle #ciri/mistle #ciri x mistle #fanfic #fanfiction #of emerald eyes and flaxen hair #I love the idea of ''ciri & the rats'' being their band name hahaha #very ''julie and the phantoms'' though I've never watched the show #I'll write a full-fledge band au someday #they're a punk band #emo-kids for certain XD #all 2000s band songs hahaha #edit: the irony of posting a band!au fic on the same day as having watched bands my friends are in perform is exquisite HAHAHA

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tessastormrp · 2 years

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[Open] Heavy Metal Lover [Bassist!Eskel]

"Goddamn, that venue was shit." Eskel kicked his shoes under the coatrack and pulled his sikly black hair out of the bun. The smoke and the beer was making his scars hurt. The crowd had been very rowdy and a lot of the thrown booze had ended up in his face with how small the stage had been.

"I am going to shower." He informed the other man.

He drew his shirt over his head and tossed it into a corner of their hotelroom, kicking off his trousers and throwing it in the same direction. He stooped over his suitcase to grab his body wash and scar cream and headed into the bathroom.

Open to: Geralt, Lambert and Jaskier.

@eskelwolf

#open rp #open starter #witcher rp #band au rp #indie rp

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help-help-i-need-an-adult · 11 months

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Ok, but imagine a middle school witcher AU where they’re at a party and Jaskier is Barbie dancing around and asking if anyone ever thinks about dying

And everyone else stops dancing

And Geralt, from the corner where the baby goth was not dancing, is like “yes.”

And the two of them spend the rest of the party on the roof, watching the stars and talking about deep stuff like mortality and boy bands

#the witcher #jaskier #geraskier #geralt of rivia #geralt #the witcher netflix #witcher #geralt x jaskier #dandelion #julian alfred pankratz #the barbie movie

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an-au-blog · 5 months

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A collection of my aus and posts:

Consider this a map for my blog for easier navigation and finding posts (will be updated when needed). Not all posts are linked but all posts are tagged.

One Piece (they got too many lol)

shuggy

zosan

frobin

more!

even more!!

Trigun

Eye of Michael cigarettes

Beauty(s) And The Beast au (kinda)

Immortal! Vash

Dr Who au

Small town dr Eriks

Guardian x teacher au (1), (2)

Fast and not so furious au (1), (2), (3)

Dating app vashwood

greek mythology vashwood

ghost hunters au (1), (2)

Orpheus and Eurydice vw

reborn wolfwood (vw)

thoughts (1)

bitter Jaskier

The witcher

non-human! Jaskier

Superheroes

into the spiderverse Peter B and Miguel neighbors

spideypool soulmate au tropes

Horrid Henry

post-canon, (2)

Ralph thoughts

adoption

thoughts ok bg characters (1)

sketches (1)

hh band au

car accident

Henry and Peter's relationship

cowboys

Others

Hannibal coffee shop au

Stranger Things pining Eddie (1), (2)

Murther Sailor Moon au

chainsaw man akiangel incorrect quote

#this took way too long #I might have missed something #just in case I'll add some of the main tags I use here as well #answers #college au #east blue asylum wing au #the bounty hunter au #bisan au #shuggy #zosan #kidnapped au #coffee shop au #trigun au #one piece au #op #the witcher #horrid henry #hh

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teejaystumbles · 10 days

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Anything you would like to share for Orc Hob would be fabulous!

I'd love to! I have been plotting away at it recently, putting some ideas in order.

For everyone new, the orc Hob AU is called Good Intentions and has spawned last October thanks to several prompts, "sigil" and "orc". I wrote a drabble and it was really good and so I proceeded to flesh it out into a whole story. It features orc Hob who has escaped Burgess, and wizard Dream who is also on the run from Burgess, despite being his former court wizard, for reasons he keeps to himself. Dream asks for Hob's help in retrieving his ruby and freeing his friend Jessamy. Hob agrees (for revenge reasons) and so they go on a quest together. It features enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, a Witcher-like road trip, sexual tension, beloved tropes and magic. 😁 Everyone who frequents my thread in the Mr Sadman server has probably already read this but I'll just share a bit. (It gets so confusing after a while, I can't remember what I shared here or only there 😅)

Over the course of the day Hob has shed clothes as the temperatures rose. It’s the high end of summer and Hob’s furs and leathers must be uncomfortable, Dream thinks. He valiantly tries not to stare as more and more of the olive green skin of his companion is revealed and keeps his eyes steadfastly on the road, but the urge to look is almost overwhelming. When they make camp it is Dream’s turn to keep first watch. The orc falls asleep quickly and Dream takes the time to finally look at him more closely. Hob’s green skin glows with an orange sheen in the firelight, illuminating a myriad of small scars on the orc’s arms and half-naked torso. A tattoo in blue-black ink adorns Hob’s left forearm, a tribal symbol of some sort. While intricate in its design, Dream’s gaze is drawn away from it by reddish bands winding around Hob’s wrists. He leans closer to get a better look. They’re not tattoos. These are wounds left by rope or shackles, Dream guesses. They look painful, new enough to look raw in the middle and old enough that it’s clear they’ll never vanish completely. Dream looks over what he can see of Hob’s skin more thoroughly and finds more rope burns around his upper arms, his thighs, ankles and even around his neck, all of them ragged enough that they’ll clearly scar. “What did they do to you?” Dream murmurs to himself, barely holding himself back from reaching out and touching the orc’s blistered skin.

#the sandman fanfiction #dreamling #fic: good intentions #orc Hob #teejay writes #asks #wip title game

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mochalottie · 23 days

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Masterlist

(Because even though no one asked for one...I wanted to do it to keep my brain entertained)

Avatar (Cameron Movies)

Oel Ngati Kameie (37k+ words) Series about Spider being adopted into the Sully. Post Way of Water.

To protect (2k words) Oneshot about Spider being injured on the SeaDragon.

Baby Mine (6.5k words) 5 times Spider called someone Mom or Dad and one time someone called him Son.

Eywa Provides (23k words) Multi chapter, complete - Feral Na'vi Spider living alone in the forest who is, surprise surprise, adopted by the Sullys.

Our Hearts Beat in the Womb of the World (115k words) Multi chapter, complete - Spider is adopted by Tonowari and Ronal. That's it. That's the fic.

For the Nights and Days of Life (387k words) Multi chapter, complete - All humans leave Pandora after the final battle leaving Spider behind. Oh, and he’s blessed by Eywa. That’s it. That’s the fic.

You Brought light, and new life (78k words) Multi chapter, complete - The comfort fic/sequel that everyone (surprisingly) wanted and I definitely needed.

What am I supposed to do, dance with it? (8k) Oneshot - Spider turns into a tiger. That's it. That's the fic.

Let the Wind Carry Us to the Clouds Multi chapter, ongoing - Aka the ikran racing!au I've snatched up and twisted into my own version, which features some Nocorro but centrics around our boy Spider!

Every Family has Someone Who Falls Multi chapter, ongoing - the time loop au where Spider is thoroughly put through the wringer.

Avatar: The Last Airbender

When You Can't Look on the Brightside, I'll Sit with You in the Dark (63k words) Multi chapter - a Zukka Alice in Wonderland AU where Sokka is Alice and Ozai is the Red King.

If Music is the Food of Love, Play On (4k words) Oneshot - Zuko essentially pining after Sokka in a Modern AU

Final Fantasy XV

Stronger than the Tides (13k words) Oneshot - Mermaid AU for Reverse Big Bang 2023

Blessed be the Boys Time Can't Capture (6k words) Oneshot - heads of families in Eos are vessels for the Greek Gods.

FFXV Song ficlets Series of Oneshots based on songs by Lauv. Includes multiple ships and AUs.

New Dawn (74k words) Multi chapter, complete - Ignis x Male!OC

Star Wars Prequels

Rock You Like a Hurricane Multi chapter, second part abandoned -The Obikin Band AU with Obi-Wan on drums, Anakin with vocals, Rex on Bass and Ahsoka on Guitar

The Mandalorian

Chakaar (22k words) Oneshot - Din Djarin x Male!OC Where a curious thief gets too involved with a grumpy Mandalorian and gains a family in return.

Inheritance Cycle

The World Ahead Multi chapter, incomplete - The Eragon/LOTR crossover that no one seemed to need, but two people very much wanted.

The Witcher

Destiny Changed Series of Oneshots - Jaskier is a Witcher and falls in love for Geralt the Nobleman. That's it, that's the series.

Voltron Legendary Defender

Space Family to the Rescue (1k words) Oneshot - Sick Keith is cared for by his Space Family.

Love is Endless (6k words) Oneshot - Keith pines for Lance in a Modern AU.

(Techni)Colour Vision (60k words) Multi chapter, complete - Klance through many film AUs.

#avatar way of water #avatar the last airbender #final fantasy xv #star wars prequels #the mandalorian #inheritance cycle #toss a coin to your witcher #voltron legendary defender #lottie writes fanfic #writers on tumblr #masterlist

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firefly-party · 1 year

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(Band AU) Jaskel for my lovely bestie @devendrasbeard!!!! Happy holidays my love!!!!!!! 🎄🎁❤️❤️❤️❤️🎉🎁😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘😘

Done for the @witcherficwriters Secret Santa gift exchange.

Dear Aguuu, payback's a bitch! is all im saying ;D

no seriously, my love, i hope you won't kill me for making this band au jaskel xD

but look, they got tattoos and piercings (more on places that are (sadly) hidden XD)

and it's also a wee bit smutty, right?

anyway… i hope this piece is a good treat for you bc damn…it def was a treat for me XD

"canon version" of this pic

AND

below a "censored version" since i finished drawing this pic before Tumblr allowed mature content again. the idea for the pattern on their pants belongs to @dapandapod! i thank! also for all your support and screaming during the drawing streams. ❤

no tagging ppl bc it's a gift and also mature content so i dunno if that's even allowed. sry. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

#jaskel #the witcher #jaskier #eskel #the witcher fanart #the witcher band au #witcher winter gift exchange #so i had an absolute blast to draw this...#aguuu forgive me :D #but i really hope you like it q_q #i mean.... i did ...back in september? xD look this pic is so fucking old by now???? holy crap but im so glad i can finally post it #kei's witcher art

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fandom-junk-drawer · 1 year

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The Witcher Headcanon (Modern AU) - Teething

Jaskier, likes to have fun. Everyone does. But sometimes, he goes a little too far. When the I'm-bored-let's-do-something-fun part of his brain turns on, he often gets into trouble, and takes Geralt along with him.

Because Geralt, no matter how mature and rational he is, always loses all his common sense the second Jaskier gets involved. Jaskier comes up with a brilliantly irrational idea for something fun, like sticking firecrackers in anthills, or tying a Halloween prop skeleton to the ceiling fan and turning it on high, and Geralt's brain is suddenly comprised of a single dustbunny and an obscene amount of blind trust.

Jaskier: "Do you want to go to the pool and put floaties on our feet to see if we can walk on water?"

Geralt *brain functioning at the same level as a common whelk*: "I'll get the floaties!"

Zero consideration is ever given to all the ways these ideas could go wrong. Jaskier just sometimes forgets that Geralt is a Witcher, and is much stronger than a regular human bean. With much faster relfexes.

Jaskier also regularly gives in to his intrusive thoughts. Which is how he decides that tickling a Witcher would be a good idea. Jaskier had the upper hand at first, having the element of surprise. And then Geralt, in breathless desperation, had twisted and...kicked.

He'd caught Jaskier right in the mouth. There had been blood. So much blood. It had been running from between Jaskier's fingers where he had one hand clamped over his mouth as he'd slowly tried to stand up, dazed and in so much pain he couldn't even scream. Geralt had grabbed him, pulling his hand away from his mouth.

He was missing most of his teeth on the left side, and the rest were broken.

F**k

The box of dumba** band-aids wasn't going to fix this.

Yennefer had been able to stop the bleeding and heal the empty sockets. She'd had to use a spell to numb his mouth and remove the broken and shattered teeth.

Repairing a few damaged teeth with magic was fairly easy. It didn't require much Chaos, but creating a whole new set of teeth? That was beyond what Yennefer could do all in one go

It would have taken several months to replace all his teeth. So, she came up with a spell to convince Jaskier's body to just grow more. Jaskier had expected to wake up the next morning with his teeth all grown back, but no. Apparently, it wasn't going to be that easy.

A week later, he woke up, gums a little sore. He put it down to soreness left over from being kicked in the mouth by a massive Witcher boot. A few days later, and the soreness had become more intense. He didn't mention it to Yennefer, not wanting to constantly whine about the same thing every day.

The pain put him in a bad mood and made him just want to hide in bed. He'd gotten more irritable over the following two days, snapping at Geralt and Yennefer and keeping to himself more. Yennefer had sensed his discomfort and gone to check on him. She had gone into his room, brushing soothingly at his mind as she ran her hand up and down his back. He was sweating slightly but didn't feel as if he had a fever. She had a suspicion of what was wrong.

"Your mouth hurting you, Nightengale?" She received an irritable grunt in reply. "You should have said something! Here, let me see." Yennefer carefully pressed her finger into his mouth and lightly ran it over his gums. She could feel two small bumps on his lower gums and two on the upper ones, right at the front.

Ah, just as she thought. Yennefer pressed her finger down on the bumps, rubbing gently, and Jaskier's breath hitched, then he realxed, biting down on her finger with a soft moan of relief.

"Your teeth are coming in." Yennefer said, rubbing the sore gums

Jaskier pulled away with an incredulous squawk of "You mean I'm teething?! Teething? Like babies do?!"

"Did you think they were going to just pop up overnight?"

Jaskier :*irritated, embarrassed gumbling*

He rubbed a hand through his hair in frustration. "Doesn't that take months? I'm going to be f***ing teething for months?"

"It won't take months," Yennefer assured him, playing with the hair at his temple, "They'll come in four at a time, with two days between. That way, you get a break between the sets."

And here he was, teething as an adult. It was awful. No wonder babies cried while they were cutting their teeth! The poor little b**tards!

The first four teeth were absolute h*ll. He hadn't known how bad it was going to be. Jaskier's gums were so sore. He hadn't known what to do, so he had just sat there and cried in his room.

Geralt felt terrible. It had been an accident, but still. He'd hurt his bard and there wasn't much he could do to help him. Or maybe there was...

He went out and did a little shopping. It involved uncomfortable assumptions and some awkward eye contact, but he'd managed. He walked out of the boutique with his fancy baggie containing some things that would hopefully help.

Jaskier was on the couch, trying to distract himself with his shows. He kept rubbing his gums like Yennefer had done for him the other day.

He vaguely registered Geralt sitting down next to him, too focused on the discomfort of his gums. He felt a warm hand touch his shoulder and squeeze gently. He turned and saw Geralt tenatively holding something out to him like some sort of peace offering.

It was flat, and shaped like a dinosaur with a hole in the middle. It took Jaskier a minute to realize it was a teething ring.

Jaskier had been too desperate for relief to turn it down. He threw his pride aside and just about snatched it out of Geralt's hand.

"That helping?" Geralt asked as Jaskier made little groaning noises as he chewed on the ring.

"Ohhhhhhhh, F***ing YES!" Came the muffled reply. Jaskier glanced toward the kitchen where Yen was making dinner, then gave Geralt a mischevious look. He nudged Geralt then started making loud moaning and slurping noises around the teething ring.

"Stop that right now or I will f***ing come out there and switch off your soul!"

"What?" Jaskier asked in an innocent tone, "I'm just soothing the pain in my poor gums!"

"You're being gross," Yennefer accused him, flapping a kitchen towel at him as she stalked over.

"Well, if me chewing on a teething ring grosses you out that much, I'll just have to find something else, " Jaskier sighed, feigning hurt. He turned to Geralt and said, "I need to rub my gums on something, so how about a blowjob?"

Yennefer slapped him on the back of the head with the towel. "You disgusting little w*nker!"

"Minger!"

"Plonker!"

Yennefer grabbed the teething ring away.

"Hey!" Jaskier sqwawked, making a grab for it, only to have Yennefer keep him at arm's lenght by means of a hand on his forehead.

"Calm your tits," She drawled, "I'm trying to cast a spell!"

Jaskier grumbled and flopped dramatically back on the couch to pout.

The teething ring was cold when Yennefer handed it back to him a few moments later. "That should feel better on your gums, dove," she said, dropping a kiss on the top of his head before returning to the kitchen.

The teething ring stayed cold, thanks to the spell Yennefer had put on it, so he didn't have to worry about having to put it back in the freezer. He spent the afternoon being in a much better mood now that he could numb the annoying pain in his gums.

Yennefer had told him that the constant pain would slowly get worse over the next four days untill the teeth erupted. She had been right. The pain had gotten more intense.

He was looking at his gums in the bathroom mirror when Geralt stuck his head in and came over to see, Yennefer at his heels. Geralt tilted Jaskier's head back and gently prodded at the bumps in his gums. "Looks like they are ready to break through," Geralt said.

Yennefer hummed her agreement after looking for herself. Jaskier smiled rakishly and said "You better ask for that blowjob while you still can, Geralt!"

"EwW, JuLiAN!" Yennefer groaned, swatting Jaskier on the arm while Geralt laughed.

They finally erupted later that day, and Jaskier was relieved. The pain rapidly diminished, and he enjoyed the next two days where he wasn't in constant pain.

The next four teeth were not as bad as the first had been, to Jaskier's relief. And the four after that were fairly easy as well. He found that he didn't always need the cold teething ring to help with the ache. Sometimes, it was enough just to bite on something.

He used the other teether Geralt had bought, the soft rubber one shaped like a giraffe. It squeaked when he chewed on the body, and he spent the next four days being an absolute menace by annoying the ever-loving f**k out of Geralt and Yennefer with it.

He figured out how to 'talk' with it, and attempted to communiate with Yennefer and Geralt soley through squeaks, in various 'tones of voice'.

Jaskier (getting griped at for something): *soft, sad little squeak*

Geralt and Yennefer: *dropping everything and rushing to comfort him*

While the last two sets of teeth had been pretty easy, Jaskier found that the molars would cause him the most pain, even more so than the first four teeth. It was awful. His gums ached so badly. They were red and sore, and the pain was almost maddening.

Yennefer had to get him a different teething ring; one that could reach the back of his mouth. He wasn't complaining about the pain, and that worried her. He would go on and on about a scratch, or a bruise, but when it came to more serious injuries, he would try to hide it. She had learned that the quieter he was , the more pain he was in.

He had been lying in bed all morning, pulling at his ears, grinding his knuckles into the sides of his jaws, and chewing on his fingers. He'd tried to keep his whimpering quiet, but Yennefer had heard him.

She found the perfect teether, and spelled it cold. It had worked, to Jaskier's relief. He'd laid in his bed, cuddled up with Yennefer, his head on her stomach, letting the cold teething toy numb the pain while she stroked his cheek and ran her fingers through his hair. "You're a hot mess," she murmured to him, brushing his hair out of his eyes.

Jaskier sighed softly as the pain ebbed away, and mumbled back, his Northern accent becoming more pronounced, "No am not, am a spicy disaster."

"That you are, Bardling."

Once he was feeling better, he emerged from his room and sat on the couch to terrorize Geralt and Yennefer with sex jokes and inappropriate gestures with his teething toy, which was shaped like a banana, and even had a peel. Every time one of them looked at him, he was making some kind of suggestive motion with it.

Geralt tried not to react to it, not wanting to encourage him, but Jaskier was very creative with his jokes and gestures. Geralt had completely lost his sh*t when Jaskier managed to get his attention, then held the banana teether at crotch level and started 'peeling' it.

Geralt outright guaffawed, and couldn't stop.

Yennefer yelled at him from the study, "Stop braying like an a**!", as she, against her better judgment, came to see what the fuss was about.

She regretted it instantly.

"Well, thanks, now I have cataracts! "

"Stop doing that!"

"And don't do that either! That's somehow even worse!"

"I don't care what it's called! Just stop doing-!"

"I hope you choke on your banana!" Yennefer spat over her shoulder as she gave up and swept out of the room while Geralt laughed so hard he snorted at Jaskier pretending to deepthroat the teething toy

Jaskier sniggered when she's gone, and went back to chewing, a smug look on his face.

Four days later and the whole teething nightmare was over and Jaskier was relieved. No more pain, or drooling, or being cranky, or not being able to sleep. Now he could focus on more important things, like his music and annoying Geralt and Yennefer.

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blackberrywars · 1 year

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For the Flash Fic Fest, could I request a Witchers-are-supersoldiers Modern/Sci-fi Secret-Mission AU?

Prompt would be: “Geralt has seen many, many things in his very, very long lifetime. He has never, as his partner Jaskier points out, seen Agent Eskel dance a waltz.”

Please have as much freedom with it as you’d like

EDIT: Available on AO3 and now with beautiful, spectacular art by @whyzowl

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Geralt has seen many, many things in his very, very long lifetime. He has never, as his partner Jaskier points out, champagne glass tipped just so, seen Agent Eskel dance a waltz.

Maybe he shouldn’t be surprised. Geralt has seen Eskel dance in a dozen other ways: bouncing along to the hum of an army radio, two-stepping on the beat of a vinyl record, bopping his head to the tunes of a digital age. Even when they’re on duty, Eskel has never danced like this, at least not where Geralt could see it. Most of their relevant assignments involve dark clubs with overwhelmingly loud bass speakers, and the kind of dancing he does in those…… Geralt already knows damn well how Eskel can thrust his hips. So does most of the club, by the time he’s through. So he shouldn’t be surprised. He wouldn’t be, if only Eskel weren’t so obviously good at it.

Across the ballroom, the man dances like a high-society socialite instead of a once-redneck soldier. His long legs follow through every step, turn, and reversal. Every turn emphasizes the broad expanse of his shoulders as he spins his partner away and back again. Each flourish raises the back of his red waistcoat, exposing the thick, round curve of his ass. But even if he didn’t have all the features Geralt has spent so long admiring, Eskel’s grace nearly topples him from the little alcove he and Jaskier had escaped to, ostensibly, have sex and definitely not spy on their fellow agent. The big Wolf moves with a fluid elegance he’d never had when fully human, in complete control of every step. He supports every pace of waltz, turns his partners’ mistakes into embellishments, and manages to make even a simple box step look like ballet.

He switches partners every other minute, always with a new pair of arms draped around him. Every single one is dressed for the theme: something vaguely renaissance, with all the accompanying ostentation, but all Geralt can focus on is how they touch Eskel. A dark-skinned hand nestles against his gloved one, pale fingers rest on his muscled arms, a diamond bracelet shines against his billowy white sleeves. None of them are the target, but Geralt catalogues them anyway. There’s Marizia Izle Álvo, an heiress with three paramours and a fortune built on cryptocurrency. Julienne Moulak, a biomedical mogul whose empire of steel and blood extended back before even Geralt’s lifetime. Neseyo Zeftir, a stunning beauty who had won several global pageants with her generous curves and penchant for environmental philanthropy.

They all touch Eskel with casual, flirtatious hands. They look at him, and even the shyest ones still have a hunger that Geralt can nearly smell, practically peeling Eskel out of his tight leather pants. The band keeps playing —cellos and drums and flutes and trumpets— but Geralt can barely hear them, not when another social-climber stumbles into Eskel, tucking his fingers into that deep collar, running through the brush of coarse chest hair. Not when a handsome woman steals him away for another waltz without so much as a by-your-leave.

Geralt takes a deep breath.

And another.

And one more.

None of them seem to work, and he welcomes the press of Jaskier’s cool hand in the center of his back. It doesn’t make his already uncomfortable pants feel any less tight, but it does make him turn away from the spectacle for a moment to see Jaskier’s own expression. He looks like he wants to eat Eskel alive. Geralt must look the same. In the space of another breath, Jaskier downs the rest of his champagne, setting the glass down just a bit too deliberately.

“My darling man…” Jaskier turns to him, eyes enormous, “How would you feel about retrieving Don Juan down there and cutting this night short? Lambert already has the information we need.”

“Agent Jaskier, that would be highly unprofessional.”

“Who’s gonna notice? Come on. For our part, we kept the target distracted, and I want to go home. Not that my night hasn’t been lovely, but I think I drank too much champagne. And my feet might hurt. And I might spill wine on these beautiful silk tights.”

“Point taken.”

“No, really. All manner of ailments and accidents could occur where we all have to go home. Immediately.”

Geralt laughs under his breath and turns away to the exit, but Jaskier plasters himself to his back, whispering in his ear.

“Don’t trip.”

Don’t trip. Instinctively, Geralt wanted to bristle and protest: who was he, that socialite with his stupid ploy to fall into Eskel’s strong arms? But he could barely register his legs underneath him as they walked him back down the staircase and into the ballroom, could barely control the movements of his eyes as they searched the floor for a head of dark hair and broad shoulders. He scans the floor and comes up short. By the east wall, he sees Julienne throwing back a heaping glass of red wine. Closer to the entrance forum, he sees the handsome lady dancing just as gracefully as before, but not with Eskel. Looking back at the stairs, the countess is sneaking away with a gorgeous blonde at her heels. He climbs back onto the first step, hoping for a better view when a familiar hand taps his shoulder.

Geralt turns, and there is Eskel. Eskel with his hair slicked back to show his flushed face, his smile made coy by the gap where his fangs shine through. Eskel in expensive, tailored clothes, golden lapels framing a deep gash, showing the obscene planes of his collarbones and plush chest. Eskel in waltzing shoes. Eskel, who has his hand outstretched and his torso bowed like a gentleman. Eskel with his low, soft voice —Dance with me, Wolf.

Geralt trips.

But Eskel catches him, pulling him close for an especially slow number. And while Geralt doesn’t know a damn thing about waltzing, Eskel apparently does, and every step feels effortless with those gloved hands around his waist and wrist. Jaskier, and all the promises waiting at home, can wait. At least for one waltz.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

I really hope this meets your expectations @whyzowl it was super fun to work on, even if it took me a while. I know I didn’t focus too much on their supposed mission, but seeing your drawing Eskel’s outfit here, I couldn’t not make Geralt’s feelings about it a focal point.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #eskel #geralt #jaskier #gereskel #geraskier #jaskel #geraskiel #enjoy my friend this was a really fun prompt im sorry it took so long!#berry's fics

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velvetcloxds · 1 year

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in love with you- send me a character and an au scenario and I'll write a little baby blurb for it

Can I request a Rockstar!Geralt au 🎸 where Geralt is in a rock/heavy metal band with the rest of the witchers, and the reader’s best friend Jaskier plays matchmaker for you and Geralt, when he finds out that you have a crush on him, please? Thank you!

THE WITCHERS | GERALT OF RIVIA

word count: 1.2k

warnings: I mention him swearing but don't actually show it aside for the gif- I enjoyed writing this so much you have no idea

"Move," you groaned, far beyond being friendly as yet another crazed, beyond wild fan attempted to push you out of the way, security was busy at the front of the hall, close to where it led into the backstage area where some of the band members were humoring the fans by waving at them.

You were just barely keeping your sanity as you tried to push through with the bag of takeaway Jaskier had asked you to pick up and bring to the back entrance before the show, the back, which he had conveniently forgotten to mention would be packed with screaming and shoving girls, and boys, and everyone in between, to be fair it was expected, but usually he'd have someone wait at the door to escort you, today you weren't so lucky.

"Get off," you nearly shouted, disbelieved as someone pushed you right into the wall, paying no mind to the pain the action might cause as they held you there, hand scraping the bare brick wall and earning a hiss from your frowning lips as you realized it tore some skin. You were going unnoticed by everyone, you were sure if Lambert took a moment to stop flirting with the girl in front of him he'd have the perfect view of you, but alas, you got lost among the other faces, drowned out by the other voices.

So you started shoving back, acting with the same yet very differently intentioned urgency to shove your way to the front, ignoring every rude comment or recoil until you were almost at the front, pausing only when you realized who was responsible for your lack of escort.

Geralt was standing on the top of the three steps that led into his dressing room, three guards perched in front of him, trying hopelessly to keep people from pushing up the line, everyone fighting for a quick touch, a wave, hell even a passing glance would drive them to unconsciousness. He wasn't doing anything, really, not that he had to, just leaning back against the very wall you'd hurt your hand on, looking down at everyone through his lashes, golden eyes doing nothing to keep them calm as he hid an amused smirk. It was teasing really, seeing how much he could get from them without doing anything at all as he held one hand on his knee with a foot perched against the wall and the other combing through already messy white strands, driving them mad, driving you mad.

"Hey, white wolf!" your voice broke through clearly now, clearer than you'd thought it would, the man in question searching for your eyes instantly, only you knew the little self-proclaimed nicknames Jaskier had given the band members, only you spent enough time with the lot of them to call it out so casually. You smiled, admittedly shyly when he found you, his smirk deepening slightly when you held up your arm to show him the bag in your hands. "You're welcome," you mouthed, no need to shout now that he held you in his gaze, no need to hear it to know he grunted in reply.

As if you'd not endured enough, he paid witness to you once again being guided around by the stream of people, an elbow to the side and a hip trust from the other making you stumble enough to drop the goods, your groan far too dramatic as you bent down to retrieve it in the little space you had. You briefly heard his voice, briefly because as soon as he spoke it egged on a choir of cheers and roars, the excitement only aiding your struggle as you stumbled to the ground and you huffed out a sigh, looking up and around you in defeat. You had no idea why the roaring got even louder until a familiar face appeared in front of you, guards circling the pair of you to make some room.

"You okay?" he demanded, it was loud, a shout that sounded like a whisper due to your surroundings, you managed a nod, vividly aware of the burning glares you received as he grabbed your waist to guide you from the floor, a breach in the circle pushing you taut against his chest. He swore under his breath, shaking his head, rolling his eyes, the full Geralt trifecta as he took the bag into his hand, other hand entwining with yours before he roughly led you to the front. "You should have texted one of us before coming through," he reprimanded lightly once you were safe behind a gate of guards, hand still in his, breath still caught in your throat as he made no effort to put some space between you.

"Jaskier said it was clean back here," you sighed, the guilty party sitting on a chair behind you, not at all bothered by the ordeal you just faced as he looked from you and Geralt's entwined hands to your face with a tooth-rotting smirk and like a bolt of lightning striking through your senses you realized what was going on in that stupid rockstar head of his.

"Jaskier, is an idiot," he grunted and you breathed a laugh, nodding in agreement as you looked down at your other hand, drops of blood tracing your knuckles. Geralt had handed the bag to Lambert in the process, the only thing more important to him than scoring a girl to take to his hotel after the show was food, a bag full of it as he disappeared into the dressing room. "The beasts wounded you," the blonde at your side noted, not even hesitating before taking that hand in his as well, thumb brushing just under the small scrapes as you shrugged.

"Well, I had no witchers to protect me," you quipped in a soft tone, shy, not because he was this big famous rockstar everyone loved, but because he was this big brooding softie that made your knees weak without even trying.

"I see," he was grunting again, a new record, you noted in your head, but it was softer, lighter, more of a caring sound than what he usually used it for. "I think I'll have to keep you at my side for the rest of the night," he offered and you were burning, inside out as the heat rushed to your cheeks because the offer wasn't at all as innocent as he made it out to be, eyes darkened under the hanging lightbulb as he looked at you. "For your safety," he explained and added a shrug, faux sincerity and you rolled your eyes, really just needing to break eye contact.

"Very noble of you."

"Oh, I am all for nobility," and he was leading you away, already going straight for the first aid kit to dress your wounds, making sure you were in fact as close to his side as possible, absolutely devouring the way you melted into him so delicately, so perfectly and he was already thinking of ways to keep you at his side long after tonight.

#geralt of rivia #rockstar!geralt of rivia #rockstar!witchers #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x yn #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia blurb #geralt of rivia drabble #geralt of rivia one shot #geralt of rivia fanfiction #monique's writing events #right where queue left me

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