#this is actually the first Witcher fic i have bound | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

absolute-snzaster · 1 year

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Hoiy shit, y'all, it's me actually answering a prompt! (Well, two prompts.) With a fic! (Well, a mini fic.) @victoriablackrose and @sniction-fiction , two of my greatest comrades in being hørny for W/itcher snz, were both so lovely as to send me prompts from this list, and I decided to combine them!

500ish words of pre-g/eraskier with sick!jask under the cut, for the prompts "sleepy sneezes", "shivery" and "concern". This is meant to be set in the same timeline as Not With That Cold (which I mean to add chapters to someday I swear I have drafts), but much earlier on. Gonna give slight mess and language warnings just in case but they're really barely there. LOTS of stuffy talk, so heads up if that is or isn't your thing. Hope y'all like it! 💕

If Jaskier’s wits had been any less dulled, he would have woken with a shout at the hulking presence looming over him like a ravenous wolf. As it was, however, he had spent the past several days doing battle with an all-consumingly horrid head cold, and every last one of his senses might have been stopped up with glue for all the good they were doing him. And so he merely stirred into vague half-consciousness and turned over in his bedroll, rubbing his interminably stuffy nose against a warm object that, if he really thought about it, hadn’t been there when he went to sleep.

“heh… ehhh… tssh’hew,” he sneezed as the tickle in his feverish nose spiked, irritated by something decidedly hirsute in its immediate presence. The presence moved, then, the warm rampart drawing away from the wet spray of his sneeze, and it was only then that Jaskier’s eyes cracked open enough to see the lumbering form above him.

“Mbelitele’s sacred tits, Geralt, what cad you possibly be doi’g.” His voice was a thin and reedy spectre of its usual melodious affront, his mind still too foggy and congested to properly startle. “‘s the biddle of the ‘dight. Why’re you leadi’g over be like I’b your dext ‘beal.”

Geralt grunted. “You were shivering.”

“I was s—” Jaskier stopped short in the middle of his usual sardonic repetition, stumbling into wakefulness as the realization dawned on him. “...I was shiveri’g. Oh.” He broke out into a positively delighted grin, one that Geralt recognized all too well even on a red nose, cracked lips and bleary eyes and dreaded all the same. “Why, Geralt, you great cake-hearted fool! You–hehh–you were—hehh’TCHEW!! You were cod’cerdned for be!” He gave a tremendous, self-satisfied sniff.

Geralt turned away with a grudging ‘hm’, and Jaskier swore he could almost see the Witcher’s face reddening in the dim glow of the firelight. “You were!” he crowed. “You care for be, Geralt, I kdew it all alo’gg,” he needled him, languidly poking a finger between his ribs.

“Don’t push it,” the Witcher scowled sullenly.

Jaskier held his hands up in surrender. “All right, all right, I yield,” he capitulated. “Sdf. You kdow, you’re dot wro’g. It r-really is cold out hehh-heh-EHHTSSCHIIEEWH!” He sneezed wetly, and began shivering again as if to illustrate the point. “Oh d-dear… I d-dod’t suppose you had adythi’g id bi’d to put ad e’d to this, did you.” He drew his bedroll tighter in around him, trying to keep his teeth from chattering. Geralt didn’t speak by way of reply. He merely grunted and eased himself down next to Jaskier, wrapping his muscle-bound arms around the shivering bard and pulling him back-first into his big, broad, blessedly warm barrel chest. “Not a word,” the Witcher muttered, stopping Jaskier’s bewildered gasp in its tracks, and while the sniffly bard did technically comply, he couldn’t help the groan of relief that slipped from the depths of his being as the heat—that unfaltering fire he’d always ached for but never had leave to touch—enveloped him.

As he began to drift off, awash in bliss as much as in congestion, Jaskier felt Geralt stir with an unspoken question behind him. “Yes, mby dear Witcher?” he prompted.

Geralt was silent for a moment. Then, “...cake-hearted?”

Jaskier scoffed reproachfully, turning it into a dramatic snuffle which served him all the same. “You mbustd’t laugh at mbe, Geralt. I have—ahhh–hah-hih’TISSH-IEW!—a terrible cold.”

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artistsfuneral · 2 years

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I quite liked your Witcher!Jaskier short fic! The idea that Calanthe allowed a single Witcher to remain on her lands and the pull of destiny brought them both there even in such different circumstances really caught my interest. Will you be continuing it?

Awww thank you!

Prooobably won't be writing that fic anymore, so I will just tell you what was supposed to happen, hope you don't mind :)

So the base is this: Jaskier once was a witcher of the (redacted) school, but for - apparently - no reason, left everything and everyone he knew behind to serve the crown of Cintra as a personal tool, if you will

Obviously the other witchers didn't like that so they started attacking Jaskier and the crown-wearer (Calanthe's father in this case), verbally and physically

The problem is that Jaskier is mighty strong in this one, like Eskel he's very good at magic stuff, super intelligent and high endurance etc etc - in a way he's the perfect soldier

After to many wichters got fatally wounded or died, Cintra became kind of a no-go-place for them, though every once in a while someone is stupid enough to try and take Jaskier down

The story starts with Geralt entering the cintran palace at Pavetta's betrothal, where he meets Jaskier for the first time and the reader learns about all those things I just told you

Geralt isn't really afraid of Jaskier, (he actually could take him in a fight, I tell you know) but the not-witcher makes him really really uncomfortable for a few reasons, but he's there on a mission

What am I talking about? You see, Pavetta hired Geralt to protect Duny and while Geralt doesn't want to get involved in any of those weird politics, he kinda does need the money she offered him and the curse Duny is under intrigues him

So yeah, Duny appears a la hedgehogman, Calanthe orders Jaskier to kill the monster and Geralt's and Jaskier's swords meet

Peculiarly enough, Geralt wins

Because Jaskier wanted him to

Jaskier, who hasn't said a single word yet, had let his actions speak louder than anything - the problem is, Calanthe who knows what Jaskier looks like when he's fighting, has noticed too

She starts punishing Jaskier, who does nothing to protect himself, so Geralt steps in and his brain short circuits as he calls for the law of surprise - the unborn Ciri is now bound to Geralt and what he doesn't understand yet, so is Jaskier

Years pass, things happen and Cintra goes up in flames

Geralt finds Ciri in a forest, crying over Jaskier, who is heavily wounded after doing everything to protect Ciri, Jaskier sees Geralt, smiles and passes out from blood loss

Geralt tries to take Ciri away to safety but the girl is having none of it, desperately screaming and crying that she won't leave Jaskier, that he's her best friend, that she will do everything to protect him because that's what he has to do for her, because surprise surprise Jaskier is cursed to serve the Cintran Crown until a rightful ruler (with elder blood) sets him free

So now Geralt somehow has to get Ciri and Jaskier to safety (Kaer Morhen), preferably without either of them dying

(this is the part where Yennefer and Triss help and they also discover the whole elder blood discourse etc)

Obviously Geralt and Jaskier fall in love along the way and it turns out that Jaskier has quite the cheerful personality when he's not oppressed by a certain warrior queen and half her courg constantly watching him

He still can't talk, that's part of the curse (to make him a perfect soldier and so on) but he is very quick with paper and ink and over the years Ciri has become quite excellent at interpreting his wild gestures and weird faces

In the beginning the other witchers are definitely not thrilled to suddenly have a hated "traitor" amongst themselves, but with Geralt, Ciri and the sorcerers explaining everything they slooooowly begin to trust him

Then there's this whole thing with a nilfgaardian king that decided to just declare a full on war to every single witcher and it's all vefy dramatic and heartbreaking and there's a lot of cried confessions and then everything goes to shit when said king captures Ciri and she's crowned Queen right there during the battle and suddenly you can hear Jaskier scream her name and she's sobbing and crying as she hears his voice for the first time, thinking it all ends there and that they have lost

But oh, hold on, the curse is broken and with it Jaskier regains a loooot of strength and he berserks across the battlefield like a parent throwing a car off their child with bare hands while simultaneously fighting three bears and a moose

They win because Ciri stabs the shit out of the nilfgaardian king, which also makes her queen of nilfgaard and yeah

Lots of crying, lots of hugs and then there was supposed to be a calm epilog where Ciri is back at the cintran palace where Geralt and Jaskier first met and Jaskier stands by her side as she is traditionally crowned queen and one of the first things she does in front of everybody is bow down to Jaskier

#the witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #geraskier #jaskier #geralt #witcher #long post #ask answered

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heydudeillshowyalater · 2 years

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a series of fantasies, starting from tamest and most plausible, and working my way towards the stuff that isn't possible in this reality

literally we just hang out as friends, catch up, maybe do some pokemon go together, and then i doze off with my head resting on you. told you it starts tame.

same as above but as i doze off you get to grope me. i probably won't be able to keep my noises to myself. let's see where that leads.

demonstrating the mouth watering mints face to face with you. let me drool on myself... and maybe if you want to try one we can see if i'm actually into someone else spitting on me in practice, or is that just a theoretical kink still?

when my partner and i have our own place, we invite you over for brunch/gaming/movies/whatever and bondage cuddles happen. i have a vision of me tied up with my arms and legs bound, watching something while snuggled up next to you, and maybe you kiss me or something and we'll see where that goes.

we just happen to meet up at a dungeon and you beat me in front of an audience. even better if you degrade me, make me beg, rip my clothes, and make me degrade myself... in front of an audience.

ttrpg scenario where our characters fuck

above but we actually fuck, in character. even better if you're dming or guest-playing an unearthly villain, i'm my pc, and we use toys to represent whatever nonhuman stuff you've got going on. whatever ttrpg we are playing at the time. we can get creative.

hotel room break-in rape fantasy. i'd love a weapon involved. be violent with me. threaten me. hurt me. i'll beg you not to hurt me, not to rape me, not to breed me. you don't have to listen.

same as above but 1) break into where i actually live, and 2) start while i'm asleep

sexy witcher cosplay photoshoot where you, as geralt, have gotten fed up with me, as jaskier, and have me bound, gagged, and beaten. oh god i had that idea back when season 1 dropped and a friend of mine was writing fic about them and it just reoccurred to me.

we go to a blood drive together. i have a remote control vibrator inside me. the more blood they take from me, the woozier i get. the woozier i get, the more you tease me with the vibrator. if i pass out, even more fun.

use an ovipositor toy to overstuff my cunt and watch me suffer with feeling too full, then having to push out whatever you put inside me

gape me with massive fantasy dildos. a tentacle. something with a knot. some wild alien-looking monster cock. maybe multiple creature cocks per hole, even?

facefuck me while i ride a sybian (less plausible than above stuff due to the fact that i would 100% get overstimulated and just cease to function)

get some of the post-surgery pain meds i had, and keep me on the edge of consciousness while you use me however you like (implausible due to things like... the law)

choke me until i pass out, let me wake up, and then do it over and over again. especially if i wake up once to see my blood on your hands and face (implausible because that would eventually end in me dying)

this is the threshold for where things get fantasy only because it's not really doable and/or survivable in reality

when i get my hyseterectomy, the first thing i see when i wake up is you fucking my removed uterus

cut my pelvis open so you can see what it looks like from the inside when you fuck me (take polaroids and/or video please)

stab a new orifice into me and fuck it (wouldn't that be a fun new way to fuck my tits)

cut my real tits off, keep them as a fuckable trophy, and replace them with fake ones, whatever size you want

create a whole entire fake bimbo body for me so that you can switch my consciousness between my real body and the bimbo body. let me watch you fuck whichever other me i'm not in, completely empty and lifeless. if i can get some of the sensation of it somehow, double the fun.

if by some regenerative magic we can let parts cut off of me grow back, let me beg for you to cut me up and feed me my own flesh because that's all i'm allowed to eat (oooh, maybe the magic works that in order to regenerate i HAVE to eat my own flesh??)

murder me. fuck and mutilate my body. and let me somehow still feel what you do to me. (and then maybe let me come back so you can do it over and over?)

you as a centaur. me as a succubus. hide your horsecock in my massive tits. fuck a centaur tiefling into me. and when she grows up to look like ginny, enjoy her too.

fulfill every twisted, lethal, fucked up, terrifying fantasy younger me had... for younger me.

full body tentacle rape. multiple in every hole. nipple penetration. impossible stomach bulge. so many wrapped around my body, all over, so you can barely see my skin. overstimulation. an obscene, disgusting amount of cum coating me inside and out. and if the tentacles somehow connect to you... even better.

#this post has an audience of one and it is that audience's birthday by the time i post this #happy birthday hon this is what i managed to come up with as a present #this post will self destruct in some amount of undecided time bc aint no way this gets to stay up

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oh-for-fic-sake · 3 years

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It’s A Match Chapter One

Masterlist

Disclaimer

Summary: Filming is over and Henry returns home to and empty house. And he doesn't like it, things are getting to him and he doesn't want to be alone anymore. Then his brother suggests online dating, it sounds mad but henry decides to give it a shot. If worst comes to worst he just deletes the profile. He has nothing to loose right?

Warnings: Angst, Swearing, Cheese, Self Indulgent Fic, Rpf, Plus sized reader.

A/N: so I wrote this before the whole 'girlfriend' shock and everything that has followed. I was of two minds whether to ever post it but honestly, this is my blog and I've clearly stated that i am going to continue writing Rpf. I want to do a little ficlet/mini fic and well here we go. It wont be smutty just somewhat angsty then fluffy. Enjoy~

Taglist: In Reblogs.

Henry slumped back on the seat in his conservatory and sighed, from here he could see his brothers and their wives outside, each snuggled up on the out door wicker sectional he had got to have the family over. It was the first family get together for over a year. He was happy, god it was amazing to see them but... He couldn't help being a tad envious.

They all had a family, wife and kids to go through this shitstorm in. He had no one, well he ha Kal. But that was it he sighed and looked away sipping from his cup slowly takeing a moment for himself. He needed to just chill, but it was getting hard... This year had really knocked him back he was at an all time low he hadn't felt like this for a long time. He knew he was depressed, he felt stupid there was no reason to be but there we go.

Henry had been getting himself all twisted for a while now, filming the Witcher helped but now that was over and he was home alone. Left with his thoughts in a big empty house.

"Sooo little brother want to tell me what's going on or am I gonna have to get mum in here?" Henry jumped at the voice and spun around to face his brother who was keeping a safe distance at the door. Wiping his hands down clearly just having washed them again.

"I ah its nothing, you know me I'm a worry wart" he said waving off his older brother he didn't want to bring down the mood of the small gathering, it was why he had come in here to take a breather.

"You called us all here for a visit hen, out of the blue when lockdown is still being eased out. Its clear you don't want to be alone, yet your sitting in here alone." His older brother said leaning on the door frame folding his arms trying to figure out what was really going on. He could see his little brother was hurting he wanted to help.

"I've got Kal" Henry said with a chuckle and looked about for the bear only to frown and sigh seeing the room was empty apart fro him and his brother.

"Kal's outside with the kids hen, what's up? You can tell me you know" henry sided as his sibling moved sitting in the small seat across from him. He knew that his family would listen but he felt so... spoilt like he was asking too much and was being selfish. It wasn't like him.

He grunted leaning back choosing not to look at his brother instead focusing on the cup in his hand. He spun it slightly then heaved a sigh. He wasn't getting away with not speaking about it, he was going to air out his worries one way or another. With his brother or his mother, and he loved his mother but this was? He wanted to keep this issues close to his chest. So far only Kal knew about his problems.

"I... I've had enough... just had enough of fucking covid and being alone... i felt isolated before all this shit kicked off and now?" He vented releasing all the fears he had. It was tough, he was a family man without his own little family, he hadn't managed to find anyone to share his life with and it got to him. He tried being sincere and polite, he took care of himself and tried staying true to himself but... something was missing it had to be! On paper he was a safe bet a good man! Yet his relationships never worked. There were different opinions or his other half couldn't handle the life style or they tried changing him or they couldn't put up with the way he loved so furiously- so openly wanting to always hold and kiss them. It just never quite worked.

"Its- fuck everything has just caught up with me...worries I've had for a few years now I could ignore them you know? I had other stuff going on, was always out and about meetings and press tours I was busy! But now?" He tried putting his feeling into words but he was conscious, he didn't want to whine or bitch about his life. He loved his work and the life he had made for himself he just? Wanted someone to share it with.

"Now after covid you've got all the time in the world to think?" Henry nodded agreeing with his brother. Covid had made him face these fears head on. He has been alone for the best part of a year with the uncertainty of his work and filming quarantines and isolations.

"Yeah, it hurts I'm... I'm in deep and I? I don't know how I'm getting out of this slump" henry finally said outloud, his brother dipped his head listening to him as he ranted. Started letting out all the frustration and anxiety out but stopped short with another growl closeing his hand around the cup tightly hissing in frustration then looked away.

"And what's caused it? I know you hate being alone but?" Henry sighed shaking his head as his brother tried coaxing more out of him. He drew in a shaky breath wanting to cry, he was just so lost and upset over being upset and alone.

"Two lock downs... Two alone- I? If this carries on for the next few years I don't... I don't want to be alone anymore! I want to settle down, I want an actual personal life! A relationship a family and? How? How am I gonna find all that? They want fame or money or something! Women never seem to want me for me, they say the do then judge me for my hobbies- I'm a geek I like tech and games and fantasy! And women don't like that" he spewed the words like they were venom, half ashamed of being so dramatic but the fear was real. Henry was scared, he wanted love. He wanted a family of his own, and it seemed impossible, now more then ever.

"I want to meet someone who will take me as I am, for me and I just I'm giving up. I'm giving up on it I can feel it, almost forty and look, alone unmarried no kids-I have no one to share my life with, it hurts am I not good enough for that?" He hung his head as he spoke the final words put loud. He felt so vain and full of himself when he said them out loud, his skin crawled.

But it was how he felt, being the muscular decent looking man he was didn't go with his personality. He was a geek and the woman who were drawn to him didn't want that. And the woman that shared his hobbies normally weren't confident enough to even speak to him. Society's views on acceptable couples had put Henry in no mans land.

"What about online dating?" His brother spoke up but Henry just grunted rolling his eyes frustrated.

"What? No I cant do that I'd be fucking swamped" he hissed in irritation frustrated at the mere suggestion of him trying to date online.

"Whoa hold your horses let me finish I mean come on Hen there's bound to be hundreds of shy sweet women on there, I mean girls that are into your hobbies and stuff aren't usually the ones out and about partying and stuff, so its more likely they will be online" his brother quickly explained before Henry could pop off on one and shut him down.

Henry opened his mouth and stopped himself. That was a good point. Many of the women he would click with weren't going to be in bars or fancy parties. They were normally shy and at home most of the time reading or playing games.

"I... You really think i could meet someone? Meet the one online?" He asked in a small voice warming to the idea. His sibling smiled and nodded enthusiastically.

"Yes little brother, your a down to earth guy, just make a profile and have a look, if you don't like what you see you can delete the profile" henry nodded slowly thinking it over. There'd be no harm if he failed well he'd be no worse off, a little disheartened but that's about it.

"Look write down a few things you want in your dream girl, have a pseudo name like fucking I don't know Hank! Or something and say your a runner on set or something" his brother spoke up quickly as Henry sat back and actually thought about it seriously. He was right, henry could tweak things and be careful about what he shared and if he did meet the one then she'd understand... He could explain the predicament he was in. That he just wanted someone who liked him for him. And he would only reveal himself to her if she was the one and he was sure she would understand. As long as he was himself and honest about everything else in his life then there was no harm... and if he used proper photos of himself just... half cropped out then? It wasn't catfishing? Because he was being himself just using the nickname his mother used to call him.

"O-okay so be myself but... Just tweak a few things? So they don't know its me?" He reiterated to his brother still trying to figure out the morality of this whole idea.

"Yes! No full on pictures, no photos of Kal either new photos henry not old, maybe of your eyes up or something? Girls love blue eyed boy- not your right that brown will give you away... you could even fuck em up with a behind the scenes character photo? I mean come on how many men use a superman photo for their profile these days?" He encouraged wanting more then anything to cheer up his little brother.

"I yeah... That could work ,thank you- I'm sorry I got so worked up it... Its just getting to me now" henry apologised but his brother shook his head and chuckled standing up to go back outside to the others that were all happily chatting in the garden.

"I know Hen, look just give it a go, you might be surprized... come on lets get back out there, after all you are the host~ you cant just run off and hide" henry grinned standing and following his brother. It was decided, he'd give online dating a go!

A week later Henry sat at the computer everything was ready, he'd taken some precise photos and had spent the last half hour writing a profile up. He had felt a little guilty about this... Was he lying? Technically it was him, he was going by Hank which was a nickname his parents gave him as a child, luckily this site didn't require a surname because honestly? He had no clue! To fend off some guilt he had thrown in a behind the scenes photo of himself as superman it wasn't much but it helped take the edge off. The other photos were cropped and there were a good few just so that the women knew he wasn't technically a catfish; he even did one with him covering half of his face with a piece of paper with Hank scrawled across it. At the time he felt silly but it helped with his anxiety over the whole thing.

He paused for a second eyeing the screen rereading the profile over and over trying to make sure it was alright and honest. And it was, he had explained a little about himself, his hobbies and interests and his job... Only brushing over he worked for the film and tv industry recently working for Netflix he hadn't exactly explained what he did but there was enough information.

With a deep breath he clicked the button his mouse hovered over going live with the profile. Now all he had to do was wait and hope he caught a good womans eye. Within moments a few profiles popped up, matches. He scanned them flicking through some of the profiles and felt his heart crack. They were all full of badly filtered photos and used slang that to be honest he didn't even understand. What was so hard about using plain English?

He growled growing frustrated clicking through what were clearly a bunch of wannabe sugar babies. Each profile had a main photo a little bit of info then a few more pictures added to them. He scanned each one quickly going through the motions judging each one. 'Too far away... Your clearly not even eighteen?... Oh you like dc? Really hate to break it to you but thor is not a dc character' Henry grunted as he bypassed what felt like hundreds of women each with their own 'duck face' selfie most advertising their Instagram pages some even ballsy enough to add their only fans pages.

'Wait a second who was that?' He paused and scrolled back up and eyed the image on screen. It was a face on photo a cute woman smiling uncomfortably. Unlike everyone else's there was no distorting blur or heavy editing, the only make up was in the form of eyeliner in a set of black slightly uneven cat eyes. A slightly skewed black flicks making a point of no editing on the photo.

She was a full figured woman with proper kissable round cheeks and a sweet nervous grin. Her eyes were what got him, they were kind and genuine he could see she was uneasy about the photo but she was beautiful. She lived about half hour away which wasn't to bad.

Henry clicked the profile and scrolled down she didn't smoke, drunk occasionally and had no children. She did however have a college education in animal care and ran a small business. Centred on dogs by the looks of it. He moved further down reading the profile.

Y/n, 30, business owner, e/c, 5'4, curvy

I'm shy so will take a while to warm up to you. A honest woman, sometimes to honest I don't seem to have a filter 🤗 I'm laid back and tend to be sarcastic and I love animals I'm a kc certified dog breeder as well as run a small successful business that caters to dogs. So if you are allergic or don't like dogs then leave now but thank you for clicking🙃

I spend most of my free time gaming or reading. I enjoy the fantasy genre and love dc and marvel (though I love dc just a tad more🤫)

I have one fur baby in the form of my lovely girl Amii who is a three year old malamute. Yes malamute not a husky or Akita so again if you don't like dogs or big dogs I'm not the girl for you.

I'm looking for someone to have fun and maybe build a life with. Covid has been tough being single and decided that it was about time I tried this whole online dating thing. If you want to chat pop me a message 🥰

I do not have a personal Instagram, snapchat or only fans! Stop asking for pictures!😠😠

Henry's face split into a huge grin. She seemed to good to be true. She was wholesome, successful in her own right and looked fun. She didn't seem to be full of kale and bullshit. Just genuine and? Henry couldn't put his finger on it but there was something drawing him to this woman.

True to her word there was no Instagram link, no only fans or snap chat or anything. He scrolled further seeing photos of her and the biggest fluffiest dog he had ever seen in his life. She was sitting down next to who he assumed was Amii her dog and he melted. Y/n looked happy and content, living her best life.

There was nothing that sent alarm bells ringing, no racey photos or 'Netflix and chill' innuendos. The profile was clean and genuine. He was right the woman was a little chunky but extraordinarily beautiful. The curves suited her and made her look more... cheerful and he could tell she was strong aswell, you had to be to have a huge dog like that about you.

There were photos of her walking a large pack of dogs in the wood; that he recognised! They were the very same he took Kal to only ten minuets down the road, he even recognised the small logo of her company on the jacket she wore. He had seen dog walkers wearing the same jacket so he knew of her brand. I he remembered correctly the company offered dog walking, grooming and kennel facilities as well as offering Breeding services helping stud dogs and stuff. They also helped advertise registered breeders and took in rescues for rehoming. It was a brilliant little company that he had even used for Kal once or twice to get his teeth cleaned and nails clipped, because Kal was a bugger for his pedicures!

He moved further down seeing more photos of the woman a small section with the games and tv she liked. Witcher was in both the tv and games category aswell as peaky blinders, Vikings and a few other shows.

Henry paused as he saw the chat button. Should he? He but his lip twisting on the spot in he chair rocking from side to side. What harm is there? He could just send a message she looked like a fun loving woman, he shared the same interests and stuff... so why not?

His fingers hovered over the keys ready to type out the words. But he choked. His mind ran blank what does he say? Hi? I saw your profile? Does he ask for a date? What does he do?

He let his hands fall and growled. Then scanned over the side of the message bar seeing a few pre-typed responses.

'It's a match!' 'You look fun, lets chat' 'I like your profile picture'

He winced they all seemed... wrong? Somehow they were polite and all but it- they wasn't personal or anything just... not quite right. He looked down as Kal came padding over and slumped next to him resting his chin on his foot with a loud sigh. With that Henry had an idea typing away a little message and hitting send before he could really think.

You sighed typing away the latest wage slips and added up all the various overtime, you really needed some more staff on now that lockdown was coming to an end. Thankfully animal care was essential so you hadn't been hit too hard a few staff were on furlough as they were extreme high risk and shielding but you were going out of your way to make the premises covid safe. Luckily it wasn't too hard as much of the business was just a few staff and lots of dogs.

You frowned when a chat icon popped up in to corner of your screen. 'Hank?' You though trying to remember if you knew a Hank? Maybe a client or some old friend... but you honestly couldn't recall. You l saved your document and clicked the small icon bringing up a chat and frowned a you read the little message.

'I call my dog bear but he has nothing on Amii, Shes the fluffiest dog I've ever seen in my life she looks perfect for bear hugs😅'

'what the hell?' You cursed scrunching your nose up at the screen rereading the words. That's a bit random... you clicked his icon a small photo of half of his face then froze as a dating profile opened up. 'Oh... shit' you said seeing that your own profile you'd set up a few days ago out of curiosity had garnered the attention of the handsome blue eyed stranger. You swallowed biting you lip thoughts of finishing updating your records now gone as you scanned Hanks profile and a small smile crossed your face.

Hank, 37, works in the film industry. Blue eyes, 6ft, muscular.

Decided to finally try this online dating, unsure what to say other then I'm looking for a life partner. I like to think I'm funny and laid back. I'm fit and active but that doesn't mean you have to be, but maybe my lady could come for walks with me and my four legged son? I promise he's my best freind and a good boy.

My job is tough and I'm away for long periods of time, but when I'm home I like to play games and am into warcraft. I paint miniatures when I can. Fantasy and superheroes are a big part of my hobbies so if you don't like all things geek then I'm probably not for you.

But if they are? Then feel free to message me, I will reply when I can.

You read and re-read the profile And your hands hovered over your chicklet keyboard. Biting your lip, do you respond? He seemed sweet and real... if that made sense. You took a deep breath. What was the worst that could happen? Asking for a plane ticket? You decided to take a chance and typed back a reply hitting send whilst you had your nerve and then flushed.

"And they say fluffy dogs only lure in women~" You giggled to yourself moving a hand over the huge fluffy girl beside you giving her pets whislt thinking of a reply.

#henry cavill #henry cavill x reader #rpf #henry cavill fic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill imagine

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jaskierswolf · 3 years

Text

No Regrets

A noble!Jaskier A/B/O arranged marriage fic for @greyduckgreygoose as part of a server exchange. - AO3

Ship: Jaskier x Aiden

Rating: E

Length: 2.8k

CW: Smut, Alpha Aiden/Omega Jask, scent kink, fingering, oral sex, penetrative sex, knotting, mating bites

If there was one thing in life that Jaskier regretted, it was that he was a noble. Without the ties of his blood, being an omega wouldn’t be so bad. He could have chosen his own alpha, been happily mated if he wished, or stayed free and wild as he roamed the Continent to his heart’s desire. As a child he’d declared that he would be a travelling bard or a merchent, renouncing all claim to the stupid title that now bound his dear sister to the estate. He’d dreamed of his life as a barker to some witcher or other adventurer, strumming tunes on his lute and spreading his music all across the Continent.

A pipe dream.

Jaskier didn’t even regret being an omega. It was actually quite thrilling, the sex was easier with the slick he produced and the desperation his heats brought was really quite incomparable. There was nothing quite like getting fucked within an inch of his life and knotted by some strapping alpha, lost in orgasm after orgasm until he quite literally passed out.

He knew the real thief of his freedom was his blood, his nobility, his dear old parents caught in their archaic ways. Only, now he was to be married to some mysterious alpha that had saved his father’s life a few weeks ago and Jaskier was kicking up a fuss, purposely not looking his best for the wedding. His neck was littered with hickies from a rather lovely beta he’d fucked the night before, but when the alpha, his alpha, walked into the room, Jaskier regretted every decision he’d made that morning.

The bastard was handsome, unbelievably so, and he was wild. Jaskier had been expecting some stuck up noble alpha that only cared about the pups Jaskier could provide, but, oh, ho, ho, gods, this man was a work of art! Long dark hair was pulled back into a messy half updo, long waves falling down past his shoulders. He had tanned skin, covered in scars, from what Jaskier could see, a particularly nasty one striking along his left eye and cutting into his cheek, but gods, those eyes… startling gold like the sweetest honey. Most interesting were his clothes, pretty dark blue garments that Jaskier could have sworn were armoured, and a hood resting on his shoulders. He seemed to be unarmed but something in Jaskier’s gut told him that the man was still dangerous, and that thought had him pressing his thighs together as he felt another rush of slick escape him.

The alpha’s nostrils flared and those gorgeous molten eyes met his from across the room. Jaskier felt as though he had been hit by lightning as he basked in the heat of his alpha’s stare. From beside him, Jaskier heard his mother gasp, the bitter scent of her anger clouding the air, but it was far too late for mother dearest to back out now.

Jaskier was going to marry a witcher!

Maybe his plans of travelling the Continent hadn’t been so far fetched after all. Destiny had truly blessed him on this day, he would be free from the society he hated so much, travelling by this fine specimen’s side until death.

Oh, ho, ho!

He was thrilled.

The alpha didn’t seem too displeased either as he winked at Jaskier from across the room, his tongue flicking out to lick his lips. The man bowed deeply to Jaskier’s parents but there was something in his manner that made Jaskier laugh. There was nothing sincere in his greeting, and the Viscount of Lettenhove knew this, that much was clear from the sneer on his face, the nasty curl of his lips.

And oh didn’t that make Jaskier’s victory all the sweeter. He wondered what the alpha had done or said to convince his old man to give up his only son, and a precious omega to boot. Jaskier supposed a life debt was hard to argue against.

The witcher seemed like a bit of a cad, all flirty winks and mockery of nobility that made Jaskier swoon, his knees buckling a little underneath him under the heavy musk of the alpha’s scent. Slick soaked through his underclothes and he wriggled uncomfortably, his hands itching to slip beneath his breeches and tease at his cock, his hole, anything that could relieve him of the aching arousal in his gut. The alpha let out a wave of pheromones, calming Jaskier’s mind and subduing him. Even his poor mother seemed to relax beside him, but the strong scent of alpha, had his father growling low in his chest. The deluded fool, as if he could take on a witcher, although he probably knew he couldn’t and that was the only reason Jaskier was allowed to marry this god of a man.

“You came,” Lord Alfred of Lettenhove hissed through gritted teeth.

To Jaskier’s surprise, the alpha just laughed, one hand resting on his hips. “I told you I would. I don’t lie, human.”

“Not my son, Alfred, please. You can’t give my son to a witcher!” Jaskier’s mother begged, falling to her knees in front of her husband. “Anyone but a witcher, I’ll even agree to that lass from Nilfgaard, please, alpha.”

It was a pitiful display, one Jaskier hadn’t expected from his mother, but one that truly showed her desperation. Jaskier almost felt sorry for her…

Almost.

“What’s done is done, mother, now please, introduce me to my new husband!” Jaskier trilled happily, subconsciously baring his neck to the stranger that he was about to bind himself to, eyeing up the cat head on the silver chain around the witcher’s neck.

He’d heard rumours about those witchers; feral, insane… assassins.

Gods, Jaskier was weak.

He always had liked an alpha that could tear him in two, but it was rarer than it should have been. Jaskier was not a timid and fragile omega, in fact most people that met him confused him for a beta at first. He had a less sweet and floral scent than most omegas, and his chest was covered in thick dark hair that was almost unheard of even in male omegas, but he liked to feel small and dainty once in a while.

“Julian, I presume,” the witcher greeted, reaching out his hand which Jaskier gladly took, his heart fluttering as his alpha kissed his fingers with a surprising amount of grace. Heat prickled over his skin, as their eyes met, and that thick scent of alpha arousal almost had Jaskier on his knees, ready to worship this man’s cock in front of the entire household.

As it was he was barely able to suppress a moan, as the alpha brought Jaskier’s wrist to his neck, pressing it against the scent gland, making Jaskier whine softly at the gentle waves of pleasure that rolled over him. Fuck, the bastard was going to trigger his heat two weeks early at this rate. He bit his lip as he let his gaze roam over the Alpha’s body, hot and heavy.

“My friends call me Jaskier,” he shot back with a wink.

“And what about your husband?”

Jaskier smirked, “Darling, you can call me whatever you like.”

“Julian, you’re being indecent!” his mother snapped, scandalised in a manner that only nobility could manage.

Jaskier scoffed, “I am talking to my future husband, the man that daddy dearest picked out for me. Although,” Jaskier smirked as he turned to face the witcher, “he has been terribly rude and not even told me his name.”

“Darling, you can call me whatever you like,” the alpha winked and Jaskier gasped, stumbling back in mock offence, “but my name is Aiden.”

After that, the wedding went off without a hitch, all the necessary paperwork being completed, as their hands were tied together. It was sealed by a rather enthusiastic kiss as Jaskier jumped into his alpha’s arms, crashing his lips against his new husband’s in a mess of teeth and tongues, finally getting to inhale the alpha’s scent from up close.

His alpha.

His husband.

Jaskier had never anticipated that he would enjoy even thinking those words, but the look of despair on his parents’ faces made everything worth it. He giggled, taking his new husband by the hand and leading him to his bedchambers, thrilled by the protests from his parents who were trying to stop him from consummating the marriage, but there was no fucking way that Jaskier was going to turn down such a tempting cornucopia of delights.

“Eager, pretty little omega, aren’t you?” Aiden growled, a purr rumbling in his chest as he grazed his teeth over the scent gland on Jaskier’s neck, sending a rush of pleasure through him, slick leaking down his thighs.

“Not what you were expecting, witcher?” Jaskier teased, pulling at the ties on Aiden’s trousers.

“Not some stuck up little prick,” Aiden hummed, groping Jaskier’s arse as he pushed down Jaskier’s breeches, leaving him in just a shirt. One hand moved to run through Jaskier’s chest hair, fingers pinching at his nipples, eliciting a moan from his lips that was better suited to a whore house. “Not exactly the fragile flower you claim to be either, omega.”

“Not as easy to break, alpha,” Jaskier hummed as Aiden’s lips nipped along his neck, teeth pulling at his ear.

His scent, fuck, his scent was almost overpowering, strong, rich, sending all of Jaskier’s reason out of the window to be replaced with the desire to be fucked, knotted, mated. A now familiar tug of pre-heat clouded his mind, his cock aching, his hole empty and wanting. With a soft sigh, he ran his fingers through his own slick before pushing them inside, not nearly enough, but it took the edge off as he rocked against his own hand, pressing his body flush against his alpha’s.

He smirked as he mouthed over Aiden’s scent gland, his husband shivering under his touch. He brought his slick covered hand up to Aiden’s lips and the alpha sucked at the digits with a needy moan, his grip on Jaskier’s waist almost bruising. “Now are you going to talk all day, or are you going to fuck me? It’s been far too long since I’ve had the pleasure of an alpha’s knot.”

Jaskier’s words made something snap in Aiden, a fearsome snarl tearing from the alpha’s throat, and Jaskier was thrown onto the bed, barely able to catch his breath before Aiden’s hands were on him, calloused fingers running through the mess of slick on his thighs before pressing inside his leaking hole. Aiden’s fingers were thicker than Jaskier’s, caressing, searching, stroking until he hit that sweet spot inside of Jaskier, making him keen.

“Mine,” Aiden growled.

Jaskier moaned, bucking up off the mattress, pushing back on Aiden’s hand. “Yours, alpha, my alpha.”

Any other words Jaskier might have said were muffled by a bruising kiss, Aiden’s tongue licking into his mouth fervently. Oh and it was blissful, the alpha’s fingers fucking him so beautifully, until he was a panting mess on the bed, sweat and slick sticking to his skin. The fog of heat ruined him, turning him into nothing more than a whore, begging to be filled, knotted, claimed, and Jaskier barely recognised his own voice, hoarse, wrecked, as he cursed, and pleaded with his alpha. His fingers scraped down Aiden’s back as he thrust against his alpha’s hand, trying to get more, more, more, but Aiden had the patience rivaling the priestesses of Melitele.

Aiden pulled his fingers out, leaving Jaskier feeling so achingly empty, pitiful cries resounding in the bedchamber, howling as he was denied everything he needed.

“Fucking bastard!” he slurred, as his building pleasure eased, leaving him wanting.

“Patience, omega,” Aiden hummed, kissing the corner of Jaskier’s mouth before trailing his lips down Jaskier’s chest, sucking and nibbling at each of his nipples as he passed them, chuckling at the needy sounds Jaskier was making. He pressed soft kisses to Jaskier’s belly, nuzzling at the curve of his stomach almost reverently until Jaskier huffed, threading his fingers through his alpha’s hair and pushing his head down further. Finally, Jaskier was rewarded with his alpha’s lips around his cock, hot and wet and oh so good.

Jaskier didn’t know many alpha’s who would suck their omega’s cock, but this gorgeous stranger, seemed more than content to get lost in Jaskier’s pleasure, purring around Jaskier’s cock as if he were the most beautiful thing in the world. His fingers gripped at Jaskier’s thighs, keeping them spread as his tongue flicked over the head, lapping up the pre-cum that was leaking from the tip.

But omegas were meant to be filled, and as much as he was enjoying the heat of Aiden’s mouth around him, it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t cum like this, not whilst he was feeling so fucking empty, and gods, he needed to cum, he needed it so much he could barely think of anything else. He whined, writhing underneath Aiden’s ministrations desperate for something else, something more.

“Alpha, I need- I need,” he whimpered, his words cut off by another moan as Aiden’s tongue delved inside him, the alpha moaning into him as he tasted sweet omega slick.

The bastard had the audacity to laugh, nuzzling against Jaskier’s thigh as his lips pressed against the soft tender skin. “What do you need, little omega?” he asked before biting at the skin beneath his lips. There was a sharp pain, the alpha’s fangs not quite breaking skin but enough to hurt in the best possible way.

“F-fuck you!” Jaskier hissed, his cheeks heating up but gods, he would not let his alpha gain the upper hand.

Faster than lightning, Aiden was gone from between Jaskier’s leg, straddling Jaskier’s hips and pinning him to the bed. Fingers threaded through Jaskier’s hair and his head was yanked backwards. “Try again, buttercup.”

“Fuck me, knot me, Aiden, alpha.”

“Better,” Aiden growled, one hand moving to pin Jaskier’s wrists onto the mattress and in one swift movement had pushed inside Jaskier.

The stretch felt so good, pleasure and lustful fire burning through him, as he arched off the bed, keening as their scents mixed around him, soothing his omega, his need to get as close to his alpha as possible. Every thrust had Aiden’s cock buried deep inside him, filling him up until he could see a slight bulge on his stomach, the alpha hitting Jaskier’s sweet spot with every snap of his hips, until Jaskier was crying, tears streaming down his face as he begged for release. His alpha’s hand wrapped around his cock, tiny in comparison, pulling his orgasm from him with a start, sparks flying as he gasped, panting into Aiden’s shoulder, biting down gently as his alpha fucked him through the waves of pleasure, but it still wasn’t enough. He ground back against Aiden’s cock, sounding desperately needy, pathetic. In his heat hazed mind, he wondered how many times he could cum on his alpha’s cock. He wanted that, wanted to please his husband, his alpha, his Aiden. Jaskier would be the prettiest omega, filled with his alpha’s cum. No one would mistake Jaskier as belonging to anyone else. He was Aiden’s now, and there was nothing anyone in the world could do about it.

“Alpha,” he whined, “please. Your knot, I need it, please, fuck… gods, alpha!”

Aiden purred, a deep rumbling in his chest, pressing his lips against Jaskier’s scent gland and nuzzling into his neck until Jaskier melted against his chest, fingers digging into his Alpha’s back. Despite his orgasm, he felt more aroused than he had ever been before, a mantra of alpha, fuck, please, falling from his lips in a dizzying blur, until finally, he felt the press of Aiden’s knot teasing at his rim.

“Gods, yes,” Jaskier moaned. “Knot me, fuck, please, Alpha.”

“My omega.”

“Yours,” Jaskier agreed, “my alpha.”

Aiden growled, his fangs latching onto Jaskier’s neck, turning Jaskier’s world upside down as the mating bond snapped into place in a rush of pheromones and emotions, triggering Jaskier’s orgasm from out of the blue. One moment he’d been blissfully sated on his alpha’s cock, the next pleasure tore through him like lightning, cum spilling over his stomach for a second time as Aiden pumped him full, breeding him, the knot popping into place and tying them together.

“Oh- oh fuck,” Jaskier groaned, falling back against the mattress and Aiden collapsed on top of him, still rolling his hips in shallow thrusts to push the knot deeper inside. “Bloody hell, that was good.”

Aiden snorted, not bothering to lift his head from Jaskier’s chest. “Good?”

“Perfect,” Jaskier sighed, running his hands through Aiden’s hair until the witcher was purring happily, nuzzling against him, murmuring soft praise into Jaskier’s skin.

Perhaps being a noble wasn’t so bad, not when your parents married you off to a gorgeous and charming witcher.

Taglist: @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @unyielding-as-the-sea @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire

#the witcher #jaskier pankratz #aiden/jaskier #witcher aiden #alpha aiden #omega jaskier #omegaverse #jaskden #wolfie's witcher writing

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jaskiersbrokenlute · 3 years

Text

Inside Out

pt. 1/?

Summary: Geralt is cursed to hear Jaskier's thoughts and feel his emotions, seeing inside the brain of someone who cannot.stop.thinking. is hurting both of them, but will ultimately help them in the end.// basically: Jaskier has adhd and autism and Geralt sees what it's like inside his head. Understanding ensues

(I have an older post here that explains the idea/concept for this fic if you want to check it out)

He knew the spell had hit him, the familiar, dizzying feeling of magic had crashed through his body like he was a ship in the waters of skellige. But nothing had happened, he felt entirely normal after the wave of magic had ceased its crashing. He couldn’t help but think it was worse this way.

He’d expected blinding pain or loss of autonomy, bodily or otherwise, but all that had followed the surge of chaos was a moment of dreadful anticipations followed by confusion and nothing.

The mage responsible was now incapacitated and tied securely to a tree, far enough away from Geralt that the residual chaos on them didn’t leave his medallion buzzing against his chest, but close enough to keep a watchful eye on them. Killing the mage may have worked better, having them sent somewhere their chaos could be properly contained would have been ideal, but he couldn’t risk letting them out of his sight, especially couldn’t let them die, not when there was some unspecified magic coursing through his body that didn’t seem to be affecting him in any way.

Yet. Hadn’t done anything yet. He wouldn’t have survived this long as a Witcher if he let his guard down that easily.

Since the spell, or curse, or charm or whatever it was that was had been cast, Geralt was pacing back and forth waiting for the bound mage to regain consciousness and tell him what they’d done, or for something to actually happen. Whichever came first at this point.

Right now he’d like nothing more than to return to the village and soak in a bath until his fingers wrinkled and he didn’t have to worry about over-zealous magic users abusing their power. But of course, his luck couldn’t stand to be that good and he couldn’t just saunter into a populated town while some spell or other just waited to be triggered inside of him.

While Blaviken was no longer fresh in anyone’s mind, the last thing he needed was some village mage’s curse causing the next incident that had him tossed out of every town he had tossed out of every town he ever stopped at.

And this time there was Jaskier waiting for him. While the parasite himself could be annoying and was here of his own volition, Geralt wouldn’t knowingly put him in danger. Sitting it out here was his only remaining option then.

He grimaced, glancing up at the mage, who was still as dead to the world as they’d been last time Geralt checked.

He could only hope that they would wake up before the spell’s effect began to take hold, being caught unawares was very much the last thing he needed to add to today’s misfortune.

Sheathing his sword, Geralt settled onto the forest floor, letting his eyes slip shut. His other senses would alert him to the mage’s consciousness when the time came, for now, he hoped meditation would help keep him calm, pass the time, and give no reason for any curse to be activated.

Which would have worked perfectly well if an all too familiar voice hadn’t broken his focus mere moments after he felt himself begin to slip in concentration.

“Would it kill the man to give me a heads up when he plans to disappear?” He heard the bard mumble, seemingly to himself.

“Gods, this damned jungle keeps getting thicker every time I trudge through it after that pig-headed Witcher.”

Followed quickly after.

Normally, the approaching chatter of Jaskier post-contract was a welcome nuisance, but now, even despite the bit of comfort that rose unbidden into his chest, he dreaded the possible side effects the magic may have on the people around him, especially his danger-magnet of a bard.

“Jaskier!” He shouted, hoping he caught the man a safe distance away from himself.

“Geralt? Woo! I thought you’d been hurt worse than normal!” The bard shouted back from somewhere just a bit too deep in the woods for Geralt to see, still approaching steadily.

“Jaskier, stop walking!”

“Wish he’d say that more when we’ve been walking all day,” Jaskier muttered, but the footsteps stopped all the same.

Geralt rolled his eyes, his lips forming a smirk before he could stop it.

“If I’m standing here like an idiot in the woods just because of some witchery potions side effect I swear to melilite I’ll slap him.” Geralt felt his eyebrows furrow at the sound of Jaskier’s voice, how did the bard even know about that?

“Are you coming here or am I going there?” Jaskier shouted the crunching of leaves giving away the man shifting foot to foot, the way he does any time he’s made to stand still for more than a minute at a time.

Geralt ran his hand over his face as he thought through the situation at hand. There was no way Jaskier would stand there until the mage woke up, and even less of a chance that he’d turn back to town without a reason he understood.

“The weather’s lovely today,” He heard Jaskier muse, deepening the confused wrinkles between his eyes.

“Come here, just keep your distance from me!” He compromised. It’s best to have Jaskier in his sights and he could always tell the man to run if things started to go south. This way he had control over the situation anyhow.

“Good to know I’m standing in the woods for no reason,” Jaskier spoke in a sarcastic tone as the crunching of leaves began approaching again.

He continues to mutter and curse as he plowed through an unnecessarily grown-in section of the forest, finally appearing through the tree line plucking leaves out of his hair with an undignified flick towards the ground. The trail made for human trekking was only a few feet from where Jaskier pushed through the woods, but Geralt figured he’d keep that bit of knowledge to himself for now.

“How close is keep your distance? Do I stop here? Oh? He doesn’t look like he drank any Witcher juice, wonder what’s holding him up. Who’s that? How does he get Roach through this jungle all the time?”

Geralt could barely get a thought through his head at the rate Jaskier was speaking through his own.

“Jask, please.” Geralt spoke through gritted teeth, needing a moment of silence to explain the situation.

“Please what?” Jaskier answered, the words sounding oddly different than the previous onslaught of words.

“Just stop talking for a damn second.”

“I’ve barely said a word since I got here. Maybe the physical bit of his potions wore off and it’s just heightened senses. Am I being too loud?”

“Jaskier!” Geralt shouted, trying not to let his frustration get out of hand.

The bard tenses up at the raised volume for a moment before settling back down, rocking on his heels.

“Just-” Geralt took a steadying breath to calm himself down, guilt shooting like a lightning bolt through him when he saw Jaskier startle from his anger.

“Quiet.”

“How much quieter can I get? I might as well have stayed stood in the forest like a tree. He still hasn’t even told me who he’s got tied up over there. It’s good technique though.”

Geralt froze then on the spot, as it finally hit him why Jaskier seemed unable to not speak.

Because he wasn’t. His lips weren’t moving at all, and the reason his words spoken out loud sounded so odd was because those went through his ears instead of being funnelled straight into his skull.

The tone and volume were always the same, the way he assumed Jaskier heard his voice in his own head.

Well, he thought, now he knows what the curse is.

------------

Also posted on Ao3, where, following every chapter I go a bit more into depth about the adhd/autism traits and experiences in each specific chapter if you’re interested in that.

Disclaimer: While I am autistic and adhd, that does not mean that these are universal thought processes, traits, or experiences. This is a mix of how I experience my adhd and autism and how I think Jaskier would experience his.

Everyone's neurodivergence affects them differently, this is just me.

#jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #julian alfred pankratz #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher fanfic #the witcher netflix #adhd jaskier #autistic jaskier #autistic geralt #adhd #geralt & jaskier #oh no lute is writing

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jaskiersvalley · 3 years

Text

Meet The Parents

Over on The Bog on Discord, there is a cursed Shrek channel. The idea for this fic was encouraged there and, well, 1.5k later, I have so many regrets, this is definitely what I'd call a shrekcident. All I can say is that writing Shrek and Fiona is really really difficult!

@dapandapod, @thecomfortofoldstorries and @fontegagrilledcheese I think you all asked to be tagged when this is up?

Meet The Parents

There had been several letters from back home, suggesting Jaskier return and brings his lovely travelling companion. It was, without a doubt, Jaskier’s mother writing the letters, she had always had a better grasp on courtly things than his father. Truth be told, it was no secret that the Count of Lettenhove absolutely hated ruling and would much rather spend his time out and about. There were several swamps in Lettenhove that he claimed needed his very dedicated attention. The fact Jaskier’s mother went along with him was no surprise. Despite her upbringing, she was quite fond of a swamp or two too.

“It’s another letter,” Jaskier sighed, flicking it into the fire in the inn. “I don’t understand why they are so insistent on me bringing you home. I mean, they’ve never been interested in previous love interests before. Probably because they’ve all held titles and had standards.” Geralt grunted, eyes fixed on the small alchemy set up he had going on the table. It didn’t deter Jaskier as he carried on. “Mother thinks you and father might get on well once you get past the initial shock of meeting.”

“I can’t imagine anyone being over the moon to meet a Witcher. Especially not one that their darling son is fucking.”

“Well, quite. Father had a couple of run ins with Witchers in his youth. Not all of them were pleasant. But I’m sure you can change his mind.” Jaskier hummed to himself as he thought. “Plus Mother was a cursed princess so you might find some common ground with her. And did I mention my uncle? I spent a lot of time with him growing up, he was really patient, letting me learn to walk by clinging to him. Anyway, he and his dragon-”

“Dragon?” Naturally Geralt perked up at that. “You should have started with that. We’re going to Lettenhove.”

Naturally Geralt had assumed the worst. As if anyone related to Jaskier would be able to keep a dragon against her will. His family was just too nice! But Geralt would learn that fact for himself in a few short weeks when they arrived at Jaskier’s ancestral castle. It was a castle, not a mansion, well kept, if a little more shabby than most. There were overgrown bushes around it and Geralt could have sworn the small of a sulphuric swamp drifted on the winds. They marched up the stairs, everything eerily quiet until the door burst open to reveal two menacing figures.

“Ogres!” Geralt shoved Jaskier behind himself, a snarl on his lips and ready to fight. “I believe this is the Count and Countess of Lettenhove’ residence. What are you doing here?”

“Witcher!” The male ogre spat. “Nothing good has ever come of your kind. You’re not making us move.”

From behind Geralt, Jaskier sprang forwards. “Mother! Father!” He embraced the ogres before being almost bowled over by a donkey. “Uncle!”

“You call this a greeting? This is how you say hello to your favourite uncle? What have I got to do before I get a hug from my favourite nephew?” The donkey looked to the side where the ogres were still staring and turned to see what the issue was. “That’s a Witcher. Oh, that’s your Witcher! That’s a nice Witcher.”

That seemed to pull Jaskier back into the moment and he stood up, clearing his throat. “Right, Mother, Father, Uncle, this is Geralt of Rivia. Geralt, my family.”

Vesemir would be so ashamed if he ever found out how Geralt reacted. All the years spent drilling manners into Geralt’s head were for naught.

“How?!”

“Well,” the donkey said into the stunned silence, “when one ogre loves another ogre and they’re into experimenting with potions-”

“Donkey!” Jaskier’s parents cried in unison before his mother continued. “Please excuse Donkey. I’m Fiona, this is Shrek. And to answer your question, ogres and humans had different anatomy. We got curious, had potions to change temporarily and, well, Jaskier happened during those three days.”

It was Jaskier’s turn to hiss, “Mother! Please don’t tell Geralt about your kinky sex lives.”

“Yes, Eskel told me about ogre anatomy and the differences in rather too much detail,” Geralt grumbled.

“Eskel fucked an ogre?”

“It was an orgy actually - though he insisted on calling it an ogre-y. Said he couldn’t get the mud from the swamp out of certain places for over a week.”

As far as first impressions went, Geralt didn’t think he could have done any worse. But he was being ushered in all the same, Donkey already chattering away about the inane things that had happened since Jaskier last visited. It left Geralt in the rather silent company of Shrek while Fiona led the way.

“Dinner’s at seven,” Shrek gritted out and Geralt hummed in acknowledgement which garnered a grunt in reply.

“Oh my word, you’re marrying your father,” Donkey cried at Jaskier, head snapping to look between Shrek’s retreating back and Geralt standing in the hallway as Fiona opened a door.

“Don’t mind him-” Whatever else she was saying went over Geralt’s head because he caught up with Donkey’s words. Just what was that about marrying?!

They stepped into the room and Jaskier let out a wail of anguish. “Mother! Two beds, really?”

“Just be glad Shrek let you even share a room. But I couldn’t talk him out of having Mirror on the wall.”

“Hello,” the enchanted mirror called. “Please don’t rearrange the room or do anything untoward, I really rather wouldn’t see those kinds of things.”

Geralt closed his eyes and took a few steadying breaths. This was fine, he could do this, there was a dragon somewhere around and he was duty bound to make sure she was free. He regretted such a decision by the evening. There was indeed a dragon who lived at the castle but she refused to take a human form, far too happy and, of all things, in love with Donkey, enough to have a clutch with him Dragon-Donkey babies were terrifying, Geralt had ascertained, menaces, taking their temperament from their father while their mother gifted them with wings and the ability to breathe fire. Suddenly, Geralt understood why there were never any contracts in the area. The locals befriended every creature, monster and anything in between. And any they couldn’t? Well, ogres and dragons could easily keep things in check.

Once the shock of it all had worn off, Geralt could actually focus on eating. Other than Jaskier, there seemed to be no one who cared for things like utensils.

“Please, Mother, Father, at least try to have some manners?” Jaskier looked pleadingly at his parents. His only response was Fiona letting out quite the impressive belch before high fiving Shrek.

The sound of small, pattering feet caught Geralt’s attention. He looked at Shrek and Fiona before trying to find the source of the sound. This seemed like the kind of company that would appreciate his party trick with a fork. A hand around his wrist stopped him.

“Not the Three Blind Mice. They’re friends.”

Almost disappointed, Geralt settled back to finish his surprisingly hearty meal. It wasn’t the usual fair of courts, this was more about being filling and warm rather than showing off all the money that went into making tiny portions full of expensive spices. However, it certainly helped set Geralt at ease.

“So, when’s the wedding?” The small amount of peace was shattered by Shrek asking around a mouthful. It had Jaskier shrieking while the rest of his family watched him, frozen in place but not exactly surprised. More like they were patiently waiting for him to be done. Shrek shrugged. “I thought you were bringing your Witcher home to get married. Isn’t that how it usually goes in fairytales?”

“That’s only princes and princesses,” Donkey cut in. “You have a viscount. They don’t have to get married. Unless…?”

“I’m not proposing,” Geralt blurted out. There was a collective groaning sigh from the table, some of it relief, some of it disappointment and Geralt didn’t know just how offended he should be. He didn’t expect Jaskier to loudly but delicately put his cutlery onto his plate to make in clink pointedly.

“Good. Because I wanted to be the one to propose. On my own terms. In my own time. Mother, do you still have the ring? I think I will take it with us. Might eventually use it.”

Donkey gasped. “Not the One Ring?”

“No!” Jaskier sounded exasperated. “We all know what happened to cousin Gollum with that one. I don’t have any wishes to lose my hair because of that. I meant Grandmother’s ring. I doubt Grandfather’s would be very useful.” He turned to Geralt. “Grandfather was turned into a frog. His ring is rather tiny as a result.”

Of course Jaskier had ogres for parents and a frog for a grandfather. He still took after his uncle the most by the sounds of things. Given how Donkey hadn’t stopped making noises, whether it was humming or popping his lips, it was incessant. Geralt felt he now understood Jaskier a whole lot better. And, when the time came, if Jaskier did offer him a ring, Geralt had zero reservations about the knowledge that he would say yes. But the wedding was going to be at Kaer Morhen, he was going to have to insist on that.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #shrek #donkey #fiona #the witcher #witchrek #tldr: jaskier's parents are shrek and fiona

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safaiagem · 2 years

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Hello everyone and welcome to another Fic Back Friday. I am about 95% of the way done with my insane part of the year, but I’ve gotten sick now. So I’m going to try and get better at writing again for The Saddest Thing About Betrayal because I don’t like leaving things sitting unfinished for too long. Hopefully, this is just a cold or a virus that is not COVID, my at-home test is negative as of yesterday, but we’ll have to see. However, today The Witcher season 2 came out so I thought for Fic Back Friday I would share my The Sweet Compulsion of Music series that I wrote in 2020. It’s 100k+ words over nine fics that alternate POV’s. The primary relationship is Yennefer/Jaskier and Yennefer/Jaskier/Geralt. There is actually another one in the series that is low key planned out but there is a plot point I’m not thrilled about that I need to think on and I want to finish my 00Q fic first. So if you’re into Yennefer and Jaskier being feral as hell while also being soft with each other, maybe check this series out. Enjoy season two, I might have time to watch it at some point but I’m not worried about spoilers, and here is a link and info to the first story in the series. The graphic above was done by the lovely @psychvamp25 whom I miss writing with so very much.

She Who Pays The Piper Calls The Tune - Words: 7,878 - Rated: E - Completed

So she wasn't entirely sure what was going on, which was the excuse Yennefer was going to use if anyone asked her how she managed to walk into a camp without even realizing it. One moment she was alone in the forest, and the next, half a dozen men were surrounding her. They wore familiar black armor, and Yennefer guessed that she must have somehow wandered into a Nilfgaard encampment that had managed to escape the slaughter. They were saying something to her, but she had no idea what. She didn't really care. The fire was right there in front of her, and she used it to end all of their lives. Her grip on her Chaos felt strange like it was falling through her fingers, and she decided that it was probably time to find somewhere to hide.

"Yennefer?" a broken voice said. Yennefer turned intending to end another life and blinked. A pair of familiar blue eyes stared back at her in torn and dirty clothes. He was thinner and covered in blood and bruises. His hands were tightly bound in front of him, and he looked like he was about to pass out.

"Jaskier," she said, and they stared at each other for what felt like a long time.

#the witcher #jaskier #yennefer of vengerberg #yennskier #geraskefer #geraskier #geralt of rivia #safaia's fics #my writing

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geralthastwohands · 4 years

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The Play’s The Thing

I just wanted to write something with Jaskier using his brain to get them out of a sticky situation with a healthy side of angst and this spawned out oops!! but also hey!!! i finished a fic!!

***

The mercenaries attack their camp while they sleep.

By the time Jaskier is woken up, Geralt is already being held down on the ground by at least four men. He’s putting up a good fight, but Jaskier can tell the witcher is only so strong. The men were human, but they were well trained.

He has three options. Option one, get on his feet and try to fight back against the mercenaries. There were six men standing around the four holding Geralt down and Jaskier’s always been more of a lover than a fighter, so that was out. Option two, pretend he was still asleep and let Geralt get taken away like a coward. He is many things, but he refuses to be a coward. That leaves option three…

“Oh, thank the gods.” Jaskier breathes out, standing up on shaky legs. All heads snap towards him, including Geralt’s. If he wasn’t committing to this new role, he’d be offended that they seemed to have forgotten about him.

“Who the fuck are you?” One of the mercenaries asks. He’s the only one not wearing a face mask. Most likely the leader.

“I-I’m a bard. Dandelion,” He stutters. Geralt lets out a low growl and Jaskier flinches overdramatically. “The witcher’s had me trapped with him for so long. I knew if I waited long enough someone would rescue me! You, kind sirs, are gifts from destiny.” He knows he’s playing it up, but he needs this to work. He glances towards Geralt and sees the hurt confusion there and hopes they live long enough for him to explain.

“Y’here that, boys? We’re gifts from destiny!” The leader laughs. “Fuck off, bard. We’re taking him for the coin.” The leader shoos him like a fly the little- and gestures for the now bound Geralt to be pulled to his feet.

“He’s seen your face, sir.” One of the men pipes up. “We should kill him.”

“Oh, no, no! You don’t have to do that!” Jaskier quickly interjects. “I could- I could come with you! I’m known for many songs! Drinking songs, love ballads, even the occasional jig, if I’m in the right mood for it. I could be your entertainment, at least until the next town?”

The leader leans his head back and forth, considering it. He turns towards the man who spoke, who shrugs. Jaskier notes how he doesn’t look to anyone else. Most likely the second in command. Good to know for later.

“Alright...Dandelion, did you say your name was?” The leader pauses so Jaskier nods in answer. “We’ll give you a chance to earn your life. Morning is hours off yet. You’ll play while we eat. If we enjoy it, a few of my boys will escort you to the next town.” The leader raises an eyebrow. “Agreed?”

“Anyone here know Fishmonger’s Daughter?” He asks in lieu of a response. The men cheer.

***

Within the hour, the mercenaries have taken over their camp with their own bedrolls and firmly secured Geralt to a tree. The witcher won’t look at him, no matter how many times Jaskiertries to sneakily catch his eye. Even Roach, ever so loyal, turns her head away when he pauses to slip her a carrot.

There’s a stew cooking over the fire and ale being passed around. With Jaskier’s music, it’s a proper celebration of a job well done. The bard wants to snap and swing his lute at the nearest head. Stick to the plan, Jaskier…

“Oi, Dandelion! You know anything about these?” Jaskier looks over to see the second-in-command next to the fire, holding up one of Geralt’s potions. He can't believe his luck. Fuck the plan, this one is better.

“Y-yes, sir!” He fumbles the lute onto his back, playing up the helpless bard once again. “The witcher had me gather the ingredients for some.” He stands awkwardly above them until the second gestures for him to sit. “The one in your hand is a night vision potion called Cat.” He digs through the bag for a second, slipping a small vial inside his sleeve under the cover of the worn leather. He pulls out another harmless one. “This one is for your reflexes, he called it Blizzard.”

“Interesting…” The second mutters, listening intently. “Don’t suppose a human would be able to take them, do you?”

“I wouldn’t know.” He answers, fully knowing Witcher’s potions would kill a full-grown man. Without thinking, he leans a hand on the pot to look closer. The hot metal quickly burns his skin through his sleeve and he lets out a sharp yelp of pain.

“Ryvel! What are you doing to the poor bard over there?!” The leader calls out with a laugh.

“Fuck off, he burned ‘imself!” The second - Ryvel - calls back with a grin. He shakes his head as he tugs Jaskier’s hand closer. “Let me see where it hurts.”

Jaskier freezes at the touch but relaxes when nothing follows beside gentle prodding at the new burn. Ryvel digs through his own pack for a second before coming up with salve and a roll of bandages. They’re both silent as he coats the burn then wraps it with the care of someone who’s done it a thousand times before.

When it’s done, Jaskier flexes his hand. “Thank you.” He whispers. “I didn’t expect…” He trails off, not knowing how to say it without offending the mercenary.

“What happened to us kind sirs being a gift from destiny?” Ryvel teases. Jaskier forces a smile.

“I should go back to playing.” He excuses before standing. “Any requests?”

“Something fun,” is all Ryvel replies.

Jaskier crosses back to where he stood to play earlier. Ryvel’s kindness almost made him feel bad for the deadly amount of White Gull he poured into the stew while burning his arm. Though judging by the fact that every man is without a mask and calling each other by name, they weren’t planning on letting Jaskier go anyway.

He sneaks another glance at Geralt who still refused to look at anything but the ground. Soon, love. You’ll see what’s going on.

***

Dinner is served once the meat is declared cooked through. No one offers him any and Jaskier doesn’t ask. He plays while they eat and doesn’t think he’s ever felt more anxious in his life. He watches every single mercenary as they chew and swallow and take bite after bite. He keeps waiting for someone to say something about the taste or spit it out or call attention to it.

And then the first man drops, suddenly and without warning. Jaskier starts inching towards Geralt. He only has moments before the mercenaries realize their friend has been felled by more than just ale.

The second man drops. Jaskier picks up the pace. Geralt is finally, finally, looking up. He’s got this confused expression and his head is tilted to the side and oh, that would be so cute in a different situation.

The third man drops. All hell breaks loose. Jaskier uses the time they take to sluggishly grab their weapons to throw his lute to the side - Daddy’s sorry, baby, but needs must. - and pull the dagger from his boot. He cuts Geralt free as the fourth and fifth man drop in quick succession.

“Fuck,” Geralt mutters, before throwing himself at the leader. With the drugs in his system, the man goes down easily. It’s actually almost laughable how effortless it is to simply push the next three mercenaries to the ground and wait for them to die.

Ryvel, now the last of his men, falls to his knees before Geralt can even touch him. His eyes are firmly locked onto Jaskier, mouth open in shock. “You manipulative fucking jester…” He hisses out. His last words before he too meets the ground.

After hours of talk and music, it’s eerie to be met with only silence.

Geralt, with no more mercenaries to take care of, settles on Jaskier. He opens his mouth to say something only to be cut off by the bard launching into nervous ramblings.

“Listen, Geralt, I know what I did wasn’t safe or smart or anything else you’re going to say but what else was I supposed to do? Let you get taken by those brutes?”

“Jaskier.”

“And that wasn’t even my original plan, poisoning them. That was just a lucky mix of circumstances that I got into your potion bag - you should really label those, by the way. We’re lucky I just so happened to pay attention to colors and bottles last time you organized this mess. And another thin-”

“I was going to say thank you.”

The bard stops. “I’m sorry?”

Geralt takes a step forward, tense. “You did well. With the stew. And the...acting.”

Jaskier blinks. “Not as good as that, I hope. You do know I’d never actually betray you, right, Geralt?”

The witcher raises an eyebrow. “Brothers have betrayed brothers for less than their lives.”

“For gods sake, Geralt, I didn’t even tell them my name! What part of that made you think I trusted them? Do you really think so low of me that-” Jaskier cuts himself off. He’s smarter than that. He knows it’s not him that the witcher thinks low of.

The bard takes a step forward and Geralt lets him. “I could have stayed at Oxenfurt, you know. As a professor. They all loved my classes. I was the hot, young new teacher.”

“Did you accept favors in exchange for good grades, Professor ?” Geralt asks, voice low. Inwardly, Jaskier groans.

“As sexy as that was, you’re not seducing me out of talking about this, Geralt.”

“It was worth a shot.”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“It’s worked before.”

“Geralt.” Jaskier admonishes and slaps him on the chest. “Listen to me, you brute. My point is that I could have had the easiest, boring-est, lavish-est life I wanted. Instead, I chose you. And I will continue to choose you over everything else in this world, including myself. Because you’ll do the same for me.” He says this with such certainty, as if Geralt had never done a single selfish thing in his life.

Geralt swallows, not quite meeting Jaskier’s eyes, and nods. “I would. Do the same, that is.”

The bard smiles, bright and wide, like Geralt just told him that he was personally gifting him the stars. The witcher smiles back, small and quiet, but it means all the same.

“Now that that’s settled,” Jaskier breaks the silence with a dangerous glint in his eyes. ‘Let’s find out who hired these men and kill them, hmm?”

#geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier #geralt of rivia fanfiction #witcher fanfiction #by the bard #been so long since i used that tag #happy i get to use it again

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ghostinthelibrarywrites · 3 years

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A Simple Witcher

My third fic for @witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo!

Prompt: There was only one bed

Relationship: Eskel/Yennefer

Rating: M

Warnings: Canon-typical violence

Summary: When Eskel is mistaken for Geralt and taken captive by Nilfgaardians, he’s rescued by Yennefer, the beautiful sorceress who broke his oldest friend’s heart. Yennefer is weakened post-Sodden Hill and needs a safe place to go, so Eskel invites her back to Kaer Morhen with him. Neither of them are expecting the sheer amount of rooms with only one bed between Sodden and Kaedwen— or the simmering tension that grows between them.

You can read it on AO3 or read the first few scenes below the cut!

“You’re not Geralt.”

Eskel blinks up at the hooded sorceress who just burst into the derelict stables where he’s been held captive for the past two days and obliterated the Nilfgaardians that were interrogating him. That was… not the greeting Eskel was expecting. He wasn’t expecting any greeting, to be honest; he was certain he was going to die here, especially once the interrogator the soldiers were waiting for showed up.

“Who are you?” the woman asks.

“Who are you?” Between the hood and the long dark hair falling into her face, it’s hard to get a good look at her features, but Eskel doesn’t think he knows her. He makes it a point not to know too many sorceresses; he learned that lesson the hard way years ago.

“Someone who came here because I heard they had taken Geralt of Rivia captive.”

Eskel shrugs the best he can when his arms are bound over his head and his ribs are killing him. He’s pretty sure at least a few are cracked. “Shouldn’t believe everything you hear.”

In reality, Eskel never actually told the Nilfgaardians that he wasn’t Geralt. They had assumed and Eskel didn’t feel the need to correct them. After all, had they figured out that they had the wrong witcher, they would have killed him and gone to find the real Geralt, and Eskel wasn’t about to let that happen.

The sorceress picks up one of the fallen Nilfgaardians’ lanterns and lights it with a tap of her finger. It lights a bit more… explosively than it’s probably supposed to and Eskel doesn’t miss her minute flinch. She takes a long moment to examine him, then says, “You’re Eskel.”

“How do you know that name?”

“Geralt told me about you.” She pulls back her hood and then Eskel can finally get a good look at her— long raven hair, violet eyes, smooth golden brown skin, a face too beautiful to be natural.

Yennefer of Vengerberg, the woman who broke the heart of Eskel’s oldest friend.

Yennefer of Vengerberg, the woman who just saved Eskel’s life.

***

Yennefer can’t recall much about the days following Sodden Hill. She remembers portaling to some backwoods little town in the middle of nowhere. She remembers being tended to by the kindly old woman who found her delirious on the side of the road. She remembers slipping out of the woman’s house in the dead of night, not knowing where she was going exactly, but knowing that she was needed somewhere.

Everything was a blur until she was making her way along the outskirts of yet another backwoods little town when she heard three Nilfgaardian soldiers talking about how they’d taken down Geralt of Rivia, the great White Wolf, and she froze.

She shouldn’t still care about Geralt, not when she knows that the passion between them is entirely djinn-created. But the thought of Geralt being tortured to death was horrifying, so she followed the Nilfgaardians back to the abandoned farm where they were keeping him captive.

And found a witcher who is decidedly not Geralt.

She’s not sure how the Nilfgaardians made such a mistake. Haven’t they listened to all those insipid ballads written by Geralt’s bard, the ones that describe his moonlit hair, ivory skin, and chiseled physique? The man bound to the wall in front of her is bigger than Geralt— not even the chains can diminish those broad shoulders and that barrel of a chest— with dark hair and three vicious scars slashing across his face. He’s been beaten to hell; his nose is clearly broken, one eye swollen shut, and his lip is split. She’s just glad she got here before the Nilfgaardians started using the knives they were threatening him with.

Geralt has told her about Eskel— his oldest friend, his first love, the man he trusts more than anyone else in the world. But Geralt’s stories about kind, gentle Eskel bear little resemblance to the man who’s watching her with wary eyes, clearly undecided whether she’s friend or foe. Though after what he’s endured, she can’t blame him for being overly cautious.

“Are you hurt?” Yennefer asks as she begins to untie his wrists.

“Not too badly.”

“By witcher standards, or by reasonable human being standards?”

His lips twitch at that. “Couple of cracked ribs and broken fingers. Other than that, just cuts and bruises. They were waiting for someone to show up before they started interrogating me in earnest, I think.”

When she frees his bonds, he sags to his knees with a moan that belies his insistence that he’s fine. Being intimately familiar with stubborn witchers that insist they’re fine, no matter what, Yennefer sighs and drops down next to him. Her dress is already torn, muddy, burnt and bloody; whatever filth is on the floor of the stables isn’t going to matter.

“Here.” Yennefer lays a hand on his shoulder, pleasantly surprised when her hand tingles in response. All witchers have a bit of chaos in them, but not usually this strong.

Eskel jerks his arm away. “No.”

“I can help,” Yennefer says, though she isn’t sure if she actually can help. Her magic has been erratic at best since Sodden Hill and the fight with the six soldiers just took almost everything she had left. But she can at least try.

“No,” he growls. For an instant, she can see how he and Geralt could be mistaken for each other. “No magic.”

Yennefer narrows her eyes. “How do you think I killed those men? Wishful thinking?”

He’s quiet for a moment, clearly choosing his words carefully. “I appreciate what you did for me. But don’t use magic on me.”

A strange rule for a man who radiates enough chaos that he could be a mage, but Yennefer isn’t about to force healing magic on him. If he wants to suffer, he can suffer. She’s had enough of witchers’ idiocy to last a lifetime. “Fine. But if you collapse on me, I’ll leave you here.”

“That supposed to come as a surprise to me?” He smiles. She can’t tell if it’s supposed to be a friendly expression or not; the scars cause the corner of his mouth to twist upwards into a snarl.

Yennefer sits back and watches him struggle back to his feet. He really is an absurdly large man; his tattered shirt leaves little to the imagination. Where Geralt was all smooth, rippling muscles, Eskel is pure bulk. She very much hopes he’s able to walk out of here on his own two feet. Without her magic , there’s no way she’ll be able to carry him out of here on her own.

Once Eskel seems settled on his feet, Yennefer stands up and says, “We need to go. I take it there were more soldiers than these… adolescents?”

“At least two,” Eskel says. “Haven’t seen them all day though. But I need my armor, my gear, and my horse before we get out of here.”

“All things that are easier to replace than our lives if the Nilfgaardians come back.”

“Feel free to save yourself. I’m not leaving my horse. Won him through the Law of Surprise. A damn fine stallion.”

Yennefer closes her eyes. Witchers.

Eskel curses and her eyes fly open. “What?” she demands.

“We have company.” Eskel shoulders past her, putting himself between her and the door. Which is fresh, coming from a man who can barely stand on his own two feet. “Three of them.”

Yennefer isn’t sure if her reserves of chaos are enough to handle three opponents. “Forget the horse. Let’s go.”

“No time,” Eskel says, sounding infuriatingly calm. His eyes don’t leave the door.

The door opens and Eskel moves faster than Yennefer would think someone of that size capable of. For a man who has spent days tied up and beaten, he moves with remarkable grace and speed. The first soldier’s neck is broken before he even knows what’s happening. Eskel jerks the dead man’s sword from its scabbard and runs the second soldier through before the man can finish drawing his own sword. Eskel turns towards the third intruder— a weaselly-looking man in fine robes. A mage.

The mage raises his hands, chaos dancing on them. There’s too much space between him and Eskel; the witcher won’t be able to close it in time. But the other mage hasn’t noticed Yennefer yet.

She throws everything she has left at the man, letting her chaos form a wall of flame that engulfs him. The last thing she hears is her victim screaming before the ground rushes up at her and all she knows is darkness.

***

Eskel manages to get Yennefer, Scorpion, and his things out of the stable before it burns entirely to the ground. He throws the unconscious sorceress over Scorpion’s back and leads them away from the smoldering wreckage. Yennefer doesn’t stir and it's only the fact that Eskel’s medallion isn’t vibrating that reassures him that the other mage didn’t hit her with a spell before he died. There’s a scorched flower smell to the air that he assumes is Yennefer’s magic.

It’s not until after Eskel has made camp for the night, caught a rabbit for dinner, and roasted it over a fire that the sorceress finally stirs on the bedroll. When she sits up, she looks bedraggled and exhausted.

“What happened?” she demands.

Eskel pokes at the rabbit. “You killed a man and nearly brought a burning building down on our head in the process. I got us out of there.”

“And where are we now?”

“About ten miles north of where we were before, central Sodden. Not far from the border.”

Yennefer frowns. “But the Brotherhood stopped the Nilfgaardians at the border.”

“Not all of them.” Eskel starts to shrug, but it hurts his shoulder. “They were hunting for Geralt and his child surprise. Found me instead. Guess they didn’t see past the medallion.”

“And you didn’t tell them that they had the wrong man?” She’s giving him a canny look that he doesn’t quite like.

“Why, so they could cut my throat and keep looking?” Eskel pauses, considering. “Thank you, by the way. Even if you thought I was Geralt.”

She nods in acknowledgement.

“Thought you and Geralt parted ways on bad terms.” ‘Bad terms’ seems like a massive understatement, given Geralt’s devastation the winter before.

“We did,” she says with a sniff. “That doesn’t mean I want him tortured to death in a stable. Speaking of, you’re clearly in pain. If you’d let me—”

“No.” Eskel looks away from her, back towards the fire. “Even if I was in the habit of letting sorceresses cast spells on me, something is clearly wrong with your magic.”

Even though he’s not looking at her, he can practically feel her bristle. “It was Sodden Hill. My chaos got fucked up in the battle. I portaled away and found myself wandering through the countryside. Wasn’t even sure which kingdom I was in.”

“Sodden Hill’s maybe fifty miles south of here,” Eskel tells her. “You didn’t portal far.”

“Doubt I had the strength to.” Bitterness laces her voice. “I can still use my magic, clearly, it just comes out… a little off.”

“Like you burning a building down when you were trying to kill one man?”

“He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Eskel can’t argue with that. “Want some rabbit?”

He hears her stomach gurgle in response, a shockingly human noise. But she makes her way to sit across the fire from him with the air of someone without a care in the world. It’s not entirely convincing, but it’s not Eskel’s job to tell her that. He offers her a leg and she takes it only with a little trepidation.

“Is it fully cooked?” she asks.

Eskel sighs. “I’m not Geralt. I like cooking my food before I eat it.”

Privately, he can’t believe that Geralt hasn’t accidentally killed his bard by now, with some of the shit he eats.

Yennefer doesn’t look convinced, but she still digs into her rabbit. In her elegant dress— even if said elegant dress has seen better days— she looks as out of place eating a rabbit with her bare hands in the middle of the woods as Eskel would seem at a royal banquet. He tries to be subtle about watching her as he eats his own dinner. Geralt never talked much about her— except for when Lambert plied him with enough White Gull to make him loose-lipped— but what he did say made her sound untouchable. She’s somehow exactly what Eskel was expecting and nothing like it.

“If you have something to say,” she says, nibbling at the bone. “Just say it.”

Eskel hands her another piece of rabbit. “Where are you heading?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

“You saved my life.”

“I assure you, I don’t need you to return the favor.”

“So you don’t know?”

Yennefer is quiet for a moment, watching him warily. “No, I don’t know. Away.”

“Away from what?”

“I took out an entire squadron of Nilfgaardian soldiers,” she says. “I wouldn’t be surprised if there’s a price on my head right now. I feel it prudent to be as far north as possible. The only trouble is that I can’t seem to portal right now. When I try, I never end up where I need to be.”

“Come to Kaer Morhen.” Eskel doesn’t realize he’s going to make the offer until he's already blurted it out. Even if they fell out, Yennefer is important to Geralt. Eskel can’t just leave her in the middle of Sodden, not when there might be Nilfgaardians on the lookout for her. “I’m on my way now. It’s probably a two, three week journey from here.”

Yennefer arches an eyebrow. “I wasn’t aware that you normally brought guests.”

“In rare cases, we do. It’s just that most people don’t want to spend a winter on top of a mountain in the middle of nowhere.”

“In this case, I’m most people.”

“Do you have any better options, Yennefer?”

Her silence is answer enough.

“You’ll be safe there,” Eskel continues. “There’s no way the Nilfgaardians are getting soldiers up the Trail. And if you’re worried about seeing Geralt again, it’s a big keep. It’ll be easy to avoid him.”

“I’m not worried about seeing Geralt.”

Now, Eskel lets his silence be answer enough.

“Fine,” Yennefer says after a moment’s consideration, sounding like she’s just agreed to have her own arm lopped off, and Eskel wonders what the hell he’s getting himself into.

***

Eskel lets Yennefer sleep in the solitary bedroll that night.

“Don’t plan to sleep, not when we’re this close to where they grabbed me,” he tells her as he settles down cross-legged against a tree. “One of us may as well get some rest.”

But it takes Yennefer a long time to fall asleep. She lies flat on her back on the bedroll, which smells strongly of horse, and looks up at the sky, half of her expecting a fireball to come flying through the air. When she finally drifts off, her dreams are filled with the smells of blood and burnt flesh and the echoes of screams. She wakes with a start, the inside of her mouth tasting like ash and her hands clenched so tightly into fists that her fingernails have drawn blood.

She doesn’t fall back to sleep.

***

Read the rest on AO3!

#the witcher #yenskel #eskel x yennefer #eskel/yennefer #eskel #yennefer of vengerberg #my writing #my fic #wrsb #witcher rarepair summer bingo

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electronicdelusionstarlight · 3 years

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In a way the whole "Izuku is the Dragonborn" fic would need to leave most of the backstory of Izuku the 4-14 years old dragon slayer on luck or Inko doing all the work while Izuku is, like, put in a position of safety (he still needs to eat dragon souls tho, same for Miraaks... How would that work even?) So I might need to move things around a bit.

Basically here's the backstory on all major shit:

Helgen: Inko and Izuku run away with Hadvar. They are not scheduled for execution because, you know, Hadvar might not go out of his way for a stranger but there is a small kid involved, younger than his cousin dammit, way younger than your usual Stormcloak Child Soldier Conscript from Dawnstar (an actual canon thing believe it or not) so he puts his foot down. In the keep Hadvar does most of the work obviously, even if Inko does, in her desperation, cut down people getting dangerously close to Izuku. She is a better lockpick than she expected, especially with her Quirk, and Izuku in his curiosity ends up pawing off the book and a strange, mysterious ring inside the Mage's cell. They then go to Riverwood with Hadvar, where they are directed to both Farengar and the College for matters regarding magical space travel, so to speak.

Riverwood: However, they are pennyless and alone in a foreign world, so Inko tries first to make money by working at the local lumber mill as she sends a courier to Whiterun for the Dragon Thing. Assume we are playing with my modded version of the game, which means Riverwood is currently the home of one Triss Merigold from the Witcher. She is also spacially displaced as of late, and is searching for Yennefer, Ciri and Geralt, with whom she jumped into this reality before getting lost from them. Dorthe and Frodnar will direct the small Izuku to her, since Dorthe is the one "babysitting" Izuku while his mother works so he's playing with the slightly older kids. Basically, they know she is a mage of some sort since she showed them some sort of light show, and Inko still needs to make money if she wants to leave with the proper equipment so they can't even go to Farengarym yet.

This allows us to 1) Set up the Triss Merigold X Midoriya Inko endgame and NO I AM NOR FUCKING STUTTERING and 2) Give Inko a competent bodyguard of sorts before she actually does get used to the unforgiving land of Skyrim and starts giving people heart attacks with her Quirk.

Of the Major Guilds:

Companions: Inko Joins as a way to make money for Izuku. With the mercenary work she manages to buy the house in Whiterun, so now Izuku can be left in a safe location, with "Aunt" Lydia as his babysitter. Whiterun Shenanigans ensue with Izuku befriending Lucia and Lars. Also Braith but, like, after lots of character development. Lucia is obviously the first to be adopted.

Inko is the one who becomes a werewolf and the Harbinger in the end, Izuku is not involved in this Storyline outside of some encounters with "Aunt" Aela and "Uncles" Vilkas and Farkas. Inko renounces her condition in the end.

College of Winterhold: They move to winterhold together since Farengar can't help them. Izuku is actually a quick study, as exemplified to that one spell book he found in helgen that thought him within seconds how to shoot lightning from his hands, much to his mother's worry. He ends up killing a bandit in self defense that way when he's barely 5. It was either do that or let them get to his mom.

Anyway, Inko is enrolled, but so is Izuku, the two now living on College Grounds. Triss is also there as an honorary lecturer. Anyway, Whe most of the adventuring is still done by Inko, is Izuku who receives the visit of the Psijic Order and, ultimately, he is the one to kill Ancano and close the eye of Magnus. Inko becomes Archmage still, even if she tries her hardest to have Toldfir step up instead.

The way Izuku kills Ancano is actually more based on guile than actual magical prowess. He is the only one not paralyzed in the boss fight, so what he does, is grab one of J'Zargo experimental Scrolls, summon a Skeleton Minion (Oblivion spell he was recently taught so to have someone protecting him in times of crisis), and then run with it against Ancano, too busy as he is being a megalomaniac, suicide bombing himself. He survives, but only thanks to the Restoration Professor quick intervention as Ancano dies and the paralysis falters.

Restoration magic did save the day in the end.

J'Zargo, who is usually aloof and snarky over his experiments, is actually horrified his rival's son almost got killed because of him, so he pledges he will do everything in his power to find a way to help them with their issue. He is a great magician after all, and his class is one of the brightest to date, they can find a way out for them.

Dragon War: Since all they can do now is wait for the College, Inko returns to Whiterun with Izuku and Triss, but on the way the watchtower is attacked, Mirmulmir is slain, and Izuku absorbs his dragon soul. This jumpstarts the events of Skyrim, with Izuku and Inko having to go on a pilgrimage to High Hrothgar to better understand what is happening to her son, who is now terrified of talking least he blew his mother apart with his voice.

A 5 years old kid makes a poor warrior, so the Greybeard offer to train him for his destiny, but Inko refuses. They don't need her son to kill dragons, just to eat their souls, so what she can do, is do the actual dragon slaying, and then have Izuku eat the souls. This still forces her to bring Izuku on her adventures, which isn't ideal, but only the dragon related ones. Izuku still learns the shouts of unrelenting force and whirlwind sprint as well as Dragonrend, but is Inko the one wielding the blade.

As a side note, Paarthurnax, for once not having to deal with a 4th era Nord, can finally give the unadulterated lore of the order rather than the imperialized, akatosh centric one, which leads Izuku to grow interested in Kyne, Warrior-Widow of Shor, for how much she reminds him of his mom.

Anyway, Inko is the one doing most of the stuff, Paarthurnax isn't killed, and Izuku gets two dragon buddies, one a wise and aging mentor war criminal, the other a brash and snarky red dragon he can call with his voice.

Izuku and Inko go both to Sovengarde. Inko meets back Kodlak, but also Ysgramor, who she now recognizes as a war criminal bastard, and she is the one dealing the killing blow on Alduin. Inko, Breath of Kyne, is the one sand in the songs now, the mother of the dragonborn who delivered them from evil.

Thieves Guild: Inko also does it all, but is the start of Izuku's involvement with Daedras. Inko takes the pledge to Nocturnal, so her soul is now bound to her realm, but is her son that catches the Prince's eye. Inko also tries to reform the guild back to its old robin hood ways, with divergent results.

Explorer Guild: This is the Legacy of the Dragonborn Mod. Inko founds the explorers guild and moves to the now bigger home in the Museum in Solitude. Proudspire manor has been bought by Yennefer, now advisor to Queen Elisif, who thanks to her influence has grown more confident. Girlboss helping Girlboss prosper and all that. She lives there with husband and daughter, and there's a reunion with Triss. Usual angst about "is she going to leave me? Are our adventures over?" But Triss stays because she cares about Inko and shit.

Anyway, inko is the one doing most of the stuff here too, but she now has a big enough home to adopt more than just Lucia.

She adopts every orphan, as well as Sissel and Britte in Rorikstead after murdering their abusive father. She then kills Grelod in Riften, so to also be able to adopt the orphans at the orphanage. To do so, she catches the attention of the Dark Brotherhood since she just stolen their contact. She of course adopts Aventus Aretino too.

Dark Brotherhood: All Inko. Unlike thieves guild, Izuku isn't even aware she's doing this, since he's back in Solitude with his new siblings.

Princes:

Izuku does Sheogorath. He's playing in the streets with his siblings and the other Solitude kids, when he finds Sheogorath abandoned follower. So he sneaks in the blue palace, gets to the forbidden wing, and meets Sheogorath, the Hero of Kvatch. Does his quest since it's a pretty easy quest even for a 5 years old kid, and then gets the Wabbajack in exchange.

Inko does Sanguine. The sham marriage is actually to Triss this time, which leads to more angst obviously.

Inko also does Vaermina (destroying the staff), Dagon (Destroying the Razor), Hircine (Gets the Ring), Malacath, Namira (Saves the priest and kills the cannibals), Molag Bal (Just... Never completes his quest and leaves the bastard hanging), Boethia (sacrifices one of the two racist dudes in Windhelm after trucking him into following her), Azura (Uncorrupted Star) and Peryte.

Izuku finds Meridia's Beacon but it's Inko who does the quest.

Izuku is the one meeting Barbas and they have "A boy and his dog" adventures together before he manages to bring him back to Clavicus Vile and convince him to take him back without needing to do his quest. He gets the Mask as a Result, but also a dog in the form of Styx, the spectral wolf, another mod.

Izuku does Mephala, pretty early on too. He befriends Baalgruf's bastard son while still living in Whiterun, who tells him about the whispering door, and after a couple of deceptions he gets the blade. He never charges it tho.

While is Inko the one getting the Ogma Infinium, she can't open it, and is Izuku the one opening it and gaining the boost in knowledge, as well as becoming Herma Mora champion.

Dawnguard and Dragonborn are also done by Inko, but is Midoriya who is sent to Apocrypha when she opens a black book. There he has a odd "Older Sibling trying to murder Younger Sibling" relationship with Miraak, and is ultimately forced to see him get killed by Herma Mora. Aunt Serana becomes a permanent fixture in the house.

Bard College is done by Inko but Izuku is also part of the college now.

Most quests are done by Inko, but the misc quests that require either speech or guile are done by Izuku, especially if they involve children. This includes stuff like paying for Erik the Slayer armor in Rorikstead, or cheering up that girl in Solitude whose uncle was executed for aiding in regicide.

Speaking of which:

Civil War: Inko does it obviously, and she sides with the empire, because 1) Hadvar, 2) Baalgruf, and 3) Elisif.

And also because she went to Windhelm one time to stop a serial killer and gods she couldn't believe how racist those fuckers were.

Modded followers are obviously Inigo, Lucien and Shirley Curry, to name a few.

Forgotten City is done by Inko, Izuku is not even in the time loop. Project AHO is done by Inko and ends with her freeing the slaves and murdering every single slaver in the settlement. Most modded quest mods are done by her honestly.

Izuku obviously keeps himself up to date with his magical studies, which means around 8-10 years old he moves back to winterhold, still waiting for a way home, so J'Zargo can study him to reverse engineer his quirk, and he can learn more spells. Most of his siblings are almost of age by now too, and his mother has started calming down in her worry, since she trusts her old coursemates and teacher to keek Izuku safe...

Ok, no, she trusts Onmund and Toldfir to keep Izuku safe, in this order, but it's still more people she would trust if he started living with any of her other guilds.

Anyway, can't think of much else.

#skyrim #bnha #boku no hero academia #skyrim au #bnha au #midoriya inko x triss merigold #I will make this a tag mark my words

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teamfreehoodies · 3 years

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teamfreehoodies masterlist

The Witcher (TV)

See below the readmore to find links and summaries for all the fics I’ve written to date in this fandom.

and we will be elided by the people that we love most

de-aged!Jaskier, hurt!jaskier, hurt!yennefer, exploration of motherhood, families of choice, panic attacks (jask)

“What did you give me?” he growls, burying his fear beneath a burst of anger. The room around them splinters, making gravity an uncertain principle: vertigo makes him drool and he spits, falling over, digging his fingers into the ground in a futile effort to make everything just stop spinning. “Oh fuck, wha’ ‘id you do t’me?” he slurs out past a suddenly numb tongue. The icy burn has spread out from his throat and chest to take over his whole body, sending lightning strikes of pain zinging up and down his limbs.

“You’ll find out soon enough, I think.”

Yennefer is healing after Sodden, trying to pull her chaos back inside herself. She doesn’t actually have time to chase down wayward bards, much less take care of the child-sized version of one she’s never particularly liked all that well. She really is quite tired of being forced to save this fool.

darling, dearest, don’t you see (voices left inside of me)

follow-up to ‘elided" above: After the events of and we will be elided, Loretta writes Jaskier a letter. How do you forgive the kind of betrayal that’s made to save another life? How do you learn to live with the ways your family has hurt you? How do you heal without betraying yourself?

idk man, read the fic.

the heart electric (beats a half-time measure)

Jaskier drops the torch and the dagger, rushing forward to fall to his knees next to Geralt. The light sputters briefly but holds, and Jaskier curses himself even as he hesitantly reaches out to try and wake Geralt. The leather armour of his shoulder is cold under Jaskier’s palm, and weirdly tacky with something; arachas venom pings in the back of his mind like a warning, and he hastily wipes his palms off on his already ruined doublet, reaching forward to cradle Geralt’s face instead. “Geralt?” he whispers; the horrifying truth of Geralt’s stillness catches in his throat, preventing him from being any louder than that. “Geralt?”

It’s not that he hadn’t thought it possible… but Geralt was a witcher. No one had ever mentioned that witchers could die.

Five Times Jaskier Thought Geralt Was Dead, Plus One Time It Was Reversed

this life that we’ve created (inundated with the fated thought of you)

Gods, but this is very nearly intolerable. He’d been ready to forgive him, even then, waiting for Geralt to take it back, for him to turn around and apologize; and he’d been ready to forgive him two years ago, if only Geralt’s path would cross his again, one year ago, traveling slowly from town to town, chasing whispers of the white wolf in between his bardic circuit. He does not know if his heart can take it again, if Geralt once more decides him too much of a burden to bear traveling with. Injured, now, needing to be saved, he could not have engineered a worse reunion had he written the fates himself.

if you could let me inside your heart (could I be enough?)

Post-coital realizations should never be had alone. AKA Jaskier questions his place between these two powerful, immortal, destined-to-be-together beings, and he finds it hurts to be just… human.

this our winter of love (a gift from one above)

“It’s weird but I don’t think it’s witcher-weird.”

“Oh, it’s witcher-weird, alright.” Lambert interrupted, pulling up something on his phone. It was one of those ‘smart’ phones, paper thin, supposedly able to think for itself; seemed like more trouble than Geralt cared to deal with, but Lambert was half in love with the damned thing. “Look,” he said, thrusting the lit-up rectangle in Geralt’s face.

Geralt had to pull comically far back to actually look at what Lambert wanted him to see. The screen showed a small parcel of people milling about a city center. They were all dressed like either they had walked off of a movie set, or they were genuinely from the 1200s. There was even a bard, holding a lute. A distressingly familiar bard, for all that Geralt hadn’t seen that face in eight hundred years.

i carry your heart (i carry it in)

Witchers don’t have soulmates. That’s been true for as long as Geralt’s been alive, a necessary sacrifice for a life spent on the Path. There’s no place for the attachments that humans define themselves by.

It may not be worth it to Geralt, but love has always been the single most motivating force in the world for Jaskier. Unrequited or not, he’s a bard, and there’s a story to be told. He’ll be the one to tell it.

(Who’s the more tragic figure here? The loved or the unloving?)

Jaskier and Geralt are soulmates, bound by the Red String of Fate. But just because it’s written in the stars doesn’t mean it’s an easy path to tread, and it takes more than a nudge from fate to make a soul-bond work. Between the way Geralt feels about destiny, and the trials and tribulations of the path they have to trudge, it’s going to be one hell of an adventure.

the prairie is vast (the train is quicker) | Into the Jaskierverse, pt. 14

Geralt and Ciri are still trying everything they can to find Jaskier. After… a traumatizing split, they come back together in a new universe entirely. They’re offered a chance to distract themselves from their worry over Jaskier, and the perilous journey they’re on, by helping a female version of their favorite bard steal a wagon, rob a train, and, just maybe, come to terms with a worry that’s been plaguing her.

Featuring; much talk of guns, someone getting shot (on accident), a murder! (on purpose), Jaskier the Horse!Girl, one (1) dissociative episode, one (1) panic attack (though not the same character), and just enough fludd and banter to even it all out.

if i loved you (could you stay?) | QF1

He knows the way to Jaskier’s lodgings, knows by heart how to find the tiny row of cottages reserved for the professors and their families, knows too that Jaskier might not even be there; he’s not heard of anything from the bard in months, not since—

He shakes himself, turning away from the uncomfortable memories. What’s done is done. He only hopes he isn’t too late.

A love confession gone wrong leads Geralt to try and fix his relationship with Jaskier.

Go Get Your Mage | Yennfri promptfic

When Yennefer portals into Blaviken instead of Geralt, a more… mutually beneficial arrangement is made.

fate makes fools of us all (she plays the longest game) | QF2

It’s not that she’d meant to become a witch, but… well.

Sometimes these things just happen.

a willing ear (a hand to hold) | QF3

A little town in the mountains calls for the aid of a witcher, and Geralt and Jaskier take on a contract that’s more than it first appears to be.

Even the divine have friends, strange as it may seem.

breathe with it (bleed with it)

Fringilla was the first. She flexes her hand, feeling again the phantom tendrils of chaos crawling up her veins as her arm had turned to dessicated ash and bone in recompense for her glory. That was what being noticed got you. That was a lesson learned in blood and pain. That was a lesson learned hard and fast and once.

a Fringilla Vigo character study; “There is no such thing as dark or light magic. Nothing in this world is as simple as that.”

#amber writes fic #posting for posterity #this also exists as a page on my comp theme #but now it shall exist as a pinned post on my mobile theme as well #witcher fic #fandom creators make some noise ayyyyy

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dhwty-writes · 3 years

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thanks for tagging me @flowercrown-bard!

Fanfiction tag game

how many works do you have on Ao3?

36 (which is honestly a lot more than I’d have thought)

what’s your total Ao3 word count?

244,36. Fun fact: most of that was written between August and December last year

what are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Of Witchers, Bards, and Broken Hearts. So far no surprises. This fic got wildly popular and at this point I’m still not sure why

Toss a Coin to your Lover. The first witcher fic I ever wrote! I vomited out 1k words at 2 am and then look what became of me...

The Best Laid Plans. Ahhh, yes. The mistletoe fic. One of my personal favourites.

Handsy Strangers and Clever Bards. This is a very short fic of mine in which Jaskier is hit on by a stranger and says that Geralt is actually his boyfriend. Not a lot happens but it’s pretend relationship, so I get it

To Find Warmth Where There Is None. The Kaer Morons cuddle pile fic! I love that one

do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try to, but I tend to forget. I just love interacting with the author when I’m writing comments, so I imagine my readers might feel a similar way. I also love interacting with readers, getting to know their opinions, theories, etc.

what’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

See, here’s the problem: I don’t really do endings, I reach a point where I don’t know how to continue and slap that thing on the internet. Besides that, most of my fics just end with the couple getting together. But if you’re looking for a fic with a particularily sappy ending, I’d recommend my entry for Zutara Week 2020.

what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

ahhhh, I think this would be this angsty baby here. Geralt apologises to Jaskier after the mountain, but they have to keep their relationship secret, feat. a beautiful (albeit very sad) artwork by @spielzeugkaiser

do you write crossovers?

no, I don’t really see the appeal

have you ever received hate on a fic?

I think I might just start to cry if I ever did, so I am very glad that I haven’t

do you write smut? if so, what kind?

I tried writing smut a couple of times and am absolutely unable to read any of it again. I’ve said so several times but the only Geraskier thing spicier than a tomato I’ve got is this

have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not a fanfic, no! But I’ve got a 200k monster with @parttime-creative (that I have to continue, whoops)

what’s your all-time favourite ship?

Zutara. It’s almost been 10 years since I lost my heart to that ship

what’s a wip that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Probably We Were Born Sick, just realistically speaking. I’m not as invested as in OWBABH and the drive is kinda gone...

what are your writing strengths?

Honestly, I think that is more a question for my readers than me. But judging from what I’ve been told before, I’d say it’s creating secondary characters? Oh, and another thing that I enjoy immensely to write are dreams and visions.

what are your writing weaknesses?

I would say body language. Not that I have problems envisioning it, but then turning it into words is driving me nuts. Also, travel logs. These are also the most boring things for me when I am reading.

what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

So, here’s the thing: as a reader, I don’t particularly care about that, I can just skip it. Only when it’s like crucial sentences, then I’m all for it (ASOIAF with Valar Morghulis/Valar dohaeris my beloved).

As a writer, worldbuilder, and linguist, however? I fucking love my conlangs. And I love incorporating them into the story. But I do realise that most readers don’t care for that and that’s okay. I don’t really incorporate it into fics anyways. (My original work/pathfinder campaign tho? different story)

what was the first fandom you wrote for?

The first fandom I wrote for (as in published a fic in fandom spaces) was for the Warriors novel series in 2010/2011 I think? Although I did not use any of the original character or even the setting! (If you ask me, I had a stellar premise and to this day I maintain that it was better than any of the later seasons. but oh well)

That was when I first became aware of fandom. I have, however, still the document of a self-insert Dragid Feuerherz fanfic from when I was about 8

what’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

I would say it’s OWBABH, because I really love that AU with my whole heart... BUT the fic I’m definitely proudest of is For You I’ll Always Wait (very loosely inspired by my absolute obsession with Hadestown). I wrote eight entire poems for it! I analysed Jaskier’s ballads so that I could replicate the tone and the rhymes and metre and everything! And it’s almost entirely set in a dream world with weird laws of physics and deities and stuff! I even printed it and bound it as a book!

Yeah, I love that fic. I loved writing it and, what’s even more important, I love reading it.

Thanks for tagging me, this was fun!

I’m tagging @witcher-and-his-bard, @parttime-creative, @contemplativepancakes and whoever else wants to do this

#tag games #about my writing #fanfic

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prettyboy-parker · 3 years

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favorite fics of 2020 (and a goodbye)

hi all!

first, i wanted to say this is inspired by one of my closest friends my bitch @honeybunstarker . thank u for that

secondly, i wanted to say a final goodbye. i know that i nearly left a few months ago, but i was still on the fence about writing for marvel then. now, ive lost all interest. thank you all for fueling my love for writing, and making these past two (??? i actually don’t know) years full of excitement and encouragement! from the ups (the blocklist, secret santa) to the downs (my favorite blogs and friends deactivating without a word), ive had the greatest time in this fandom.

in case you were worried, i am NOT deactivating. my fics will be available for you to read whenever you want.

but, i will not be writing for marvel anymore, nor will i be posting on this blog.

now that the sad part is done, i didn't want to leave you guys without anything to entertain yourselves with. so, here are my favorite fics, including some non-marvel, from this year!

(all descriptions are from the work itself)

my top fic from this year, which is also one of my favorite fics of all time, is a dog named sunshine.

“Bucky Barnes has issues. Mental health issues, and a whole lot of them, to be precise. Bucky is fucked up, and he knows that. His apartment looks like a dumping ground on most days, he can’t sleep through the night, sometimes he doesn’t shower for six days and doesn’t leave the house except to see his therapist once a week. Mostly, Bucky has no idea how the whole “talking about your problems” thing is supposed to help him, but sometimes his therapist has some really great ideas. Like getting a dog. Which is how Bucky meets Steve. Steve has blond hair and shoulders as broad as Bucky’s future if he wouldn’t suffer from depression and multiple mental disorders, and a waist as small as Bucky’s self-esteem. Steve also has a yellowish dog with floppy ears called Sunshine. And sunshine makes its way into Bucky’s life with a bounce in its step.”

a modern stucky fic which portrays depression in the best way i have seen in a fic so far. unfortunately, it has been orphaned before being finished :(

starker:

hey baby, slip between my beta-pleats and get to know my alpha-helix? By @starkerforlife6969 and @darker-soft-starker

“Even though Tony can't tell the difference between Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo, Peter really has no other choice.

His heat is around the corner, so even though he loathes the party-going, booze drinking, smug playboy know-it-all that is Tony Stark-

He'll just have to do.”

if you asked me what my favorite starker fic of all time is, i’d tell you it’s this one

raising hybrid puppies by jaypendragon

“A non-powered Tony/Peter coffee shop AU with billionaire Tony and working-class, teenage Peter. Also, Toomes has a bakery and somehow Last Week Tonight is a genuine plot point.”

underage, slowburn, happy ending

even though it’s one of the most notorious fics for the ship, i never read it until the summer.

waiting for marriage by tuesday

“In which Tony gets married and kidnapped in that order.

—

Tony Stark went to Vegas to cause a scandal.”

just super fun!

push you out (pull you back in) by @lovelystarker

“So basically, Peter's kind of fucked. And not in the way that he wants to be-preferably by his mother's hot new boyfriend who has beautiful brown eyes and a disposition that's more than put-together. It wouldn't be so hard to ignore the crush, really it wouldn't, but Mr. Stark has practically moved in, so Peter can't avoid him if he wants to, and unlike his mom's past boyfriends, this one actually likes to spend time with him. So yeah, Peter's kind of fucked.”

just,,, wow. important to note that it is unfinished.

stucky:

you go to my head by alby_mangroves and brideofquiet

“Why would you do that for a man you don’t know?” Bucky asks.

Steve raises one slow eyebrow at him, then the other, till his expression turns from skepticism to disbelief. His forefinger and thumb reach into his shirt’s front pocket and draw out a wrinkled dollar bill.

Steve looks him in the eye when he says, very patiently, “For money, Bucky.”

40′s stucky is my favorite stucky

that boy is a problem by 2best friends

“In which a twinky little goth punk named Bucky puts a leash around Steve's dick and he's really into it.

(The leash is a metaphor. For now.)”

just porn

all the angels and the saints by speranza

“In which Steve Rogers loses God and finds God and loses God, and also: Bucky.”

if it makes you cry, it’s probably good!

sugar sweet by colorcoated

“College Student Bucky finds himself immediately attracted to Steve. He knows that Steve's a bit older than him, and that Steve himself is put off by the age difference. . . But that doesn't stop Bucky from wanting to climb him like a tree.”

the only slowburn i have tolerated

my bucky by cleo4u2 and xantissa

“Bucky finds a feral Alpha in the woods. Rather, the Alpha finds him. Bucky is sure it’s the end of his life as an independant Omega. It turns out to be the beginning of the strangest romance Bucky’s ever known.”

stony:

(i want you to see) the darkest side of me by ann2who

“In Monte Carlo, Steve meets the wealthy widower Anthony Stark. It’s love at first sight—at least for Steve—and he can’t believe his luck when Tony asks him to live at Stark Mansion, his large estate in Malibu. Never in his life had Steve thought something like this was possible… never had he been this happy. However, soon Steve realizes that Tony is still deeply troubled by the death of his first wife and haunted by the many ghosts she left behind. The longer Steve lives in her shadow, the more he understands that… He can never be what Tony’s wife had once been for him. And Tony might never truly love him.”

total mindfuck.

ironstrange:

let it be by lucifersfavoritechild

“While dealing with his son's car accident and a rapidly-dissolving marriage, Tony is drawn to Peter's surgeon, Dr. Stephen Strange.”

where severus snape is hot, not a stalker, and somehow gets the girl by utopiste

“Or: Peter Parker is sick and wants to cut his Neuroscience class. Tony just wants to help (and maybe date his son's hot teacher). Stephen Strange just wants to give his lecture in peace.”

miscellaneous:

geraskier: who needs plans anyways by NTK

“All witchers are alphas or betas by nature, since no omega has ever survived the Trial of the Grasses. Gerald has never had any problems with satisfying his needs on the occasional rut, for the whores from Poviss to Nilfgard were eager to be of service to a sturdy hunk like him. On the other hand, a certain omega/ bard/ occasional witcher tagalong has always made certain to acquire enough suppressants from local healers before setting out on a new adventure. That is, until the travels with his favourite White Wolf led the unlike pair into uncharted territory for longer than expected… life ensues”

philtriss: bound by sapphiresmoke

“Leashing involves a pupil being bound to their master in body, mind, and magic,” Philippa explained, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. “It is not something to undertake lightly, but if you accept, I will be able to share my magic with you, and instruct you in ways that would be otherwise be impossible if I were to only rely on verbal communication. It is intimate, it is at times invasive, but if you consent to this, Triss, it will make you vastlymore powerful, and from the look in your eyes, that seems to be exactly what you are looking for.”

vandermatthews: one more night like this would put me six feet under by jukeboxgraduate

“To be alongside the same person week after week, to share honesty and trust with someone day after day, is a rare treasure in a life that hinges on dishonesty. Hosea holds it close to his heart.”

din/cobb: every wave is a tidal if you hang around by wolfhalls

“Din comes to Mos Pelgo, and finds a lot more than he was looking for.”

and finally, rough day by @no-droids, because we all need to be a little indulgent sometimes.

#starker #stony #ironstrange #stucky #fic recs #geraskier #philtriss

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