So thanks to this we now have Flower shop Geraskier AU
Flower shop au - Geralt needs a bouquet to say ‘fuck you’
Don’t mind this stream of consciousness rant. It’s a mess but so are they 🤷🏻
Geralt storming in and Jaskier has fucking flowers in his hair and it’s not some traditional hippy shit flower crown. They look like they ended up there over hours of work, plucking things here and there. There is even what he thinks is a dandelion behind his ear. What flower store sells dandelions? Jaskier is excited as ever because the language of flowers is so wonderfully poetic and isn’t that just beautiful? To speak to another with nature’s first language. Geralt’s just staring at him like he is insane, though he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t oddly endearing really. He ends up leaving with a pretty beautiful arrangement but it does have certain ‘fuck you’ vibes that Geralt can’t properly explain. He also finds out later that several of the flowers caused the persons chambers to smell HORRIFYING when the flowers began to die and others dropped pollen everywhere that stained a lot of things. It’s like 3 punches in one and he will admit he’s impressed. He doesn’t mean to end up going back, but he keeps on running into the damn flowers. It’s like Jaskier and dandelions are following him. To events and lords chambers, even Yen gets on the Jaskier train cause the boy has style and she’s about to go all out for her anniversary with Tissaia. Getting that woman to blush is hard, but Jaskier nails it and Yen sort of won't shut up about him. To the point that he’s at a fucking dinner party Yen refuses to let him skip. They are seated side by side and while he isn’t coated in flowers this time, he still has a distinct floral smell that isn’t overwhelming as much as it is oddly charming and perhaps even a little comforting. He’s bright eyed and sharp as a whip, he can keep up with Yen’s humour and Ciri’s already signing him up as another found family member.
Usually Geralt would brood in the corner, which he does a bit, Jaskier half teases him about it as the group splits up after dinner. A glass of wine in his hands, his cheeks just a little pink. Geralt grunts some kind of response as Jaskier settles himself on the side of the large old reading chair Geralt always favours when he comes over. Jaskier talks about the flowers he put together for Yen, about love and loss and how nature can be astoundingly beautiful just as it can be cruel. He’s making metaphors like an actual mad man, which would piss Geralt off, except somehow it doesn’t. In fact he feels his lips curl a little as Jaskier continues to ramble, watching the way the light from the hearth turns his sea blue eyes shades of pale green and stormy navy. He’s like a hummingbird Geralt thinks. Almost like a fae but not the annoying kind he has to kill every other day, he is otherworldly but with a strange kind of grounding nature that brings a sense of ease to Geralt’s heart. It takes a few more months for Geralt to realise he has actual feelings. But now he’s helping out at the shop because they’ve had coffee a few times and Jaskier has come over to help Geralt with some issues with his greenhouse he keeps to make it easier to create potions at home. Each time Jaskier gives him flowers to take home, and Ciri makes note of it. Geralt won’t admit to actually rather liking being given them, so he doesn’t look at the deeper meaning.
It sort of hits him like a truck, he gets a call from Ciri late one night and all he can hear is her tone, Jaskiers name and wherever the fuck they are. He meets them at the shop, because Jaskier has a little flat above it and the two had been heading out to grab dinner. Ciri’s girlfriend is doing her masters and lives in the same area so the two had been getting dinner whenever Loni her gf had to stay late. That evening however Jaskier on his way to meet Ciri had been mugged. He was okay, his fight or flight mode hadn’t kicked in well and he’d half fought back while also standing like a deer in headlights. So he’s got a growing black eye, some scratches and a split lip. Geralt’s pretty sure he didnt breathe once until he actually saw him. Jaskier is in his arms before either of them know it’s happening. He can feel Jaskier shaking from the shock of it all and Geralt’s running his fingers through his hair, noting the way leaves and flower petals cascade around them as he does. He stays the night, watching Jaskier sleep, fighting so hard not to go and hunt the bastards who did this. What ends up stopping him is the notebook he finds in the kitchen when he goes to get himself some water, it’s just a list of dates and descriptions, it shouldn’t make sense. He reads the cluster of meanings, borage- bluntness, direct. While Camellia - you’re adorable, chamomile (one that pops up very very regularly) patience in adversity. White clover - think of me. Gardenia’s - secret love. Honey suckle- bonds of love. But as Geralt reads on it starts to click into place. There is so much, he looks at the last date, remembering back to the week before when Geralt had come in, truly exhausted after a long hunt and longer bullshit with the elderman who owed him coin. To find Jaskier surrounded by wilting flowers,face in his hands, too caught up within thought to notice the bell ringing or Geralt entering the back room. He’d had a call from his parents. The ones he never talked about because they were rich and powerful and thought Jaskiers trade was foolish and beneath his birth rights. That his university degree had gone to waste and that in general he was not fit to be their child or lay claim to their name (which he hadn’t done in a long time.)
Geralt wakes Jaskier up with coffee and breakfast. He looks so soft in the morning light. Insane bed head and a banged up face that Geralt wants to kiss more than he’s ever wanted to do anything else. While he’s fighting with himself on the thought Jaskier leans over the tea tray and presses a kiss to the corner of his lips as a thank you. He tastes like wild berry jam and milky sweet tea on the tray lay three Camellia’s, pink, red and white. Jaskier grins, holding each one up and explaining the meaning, though for once he knows Geralt already knows. ‘Longing for you, you’re a flame in my heart, you’re adorable.’ Geralt’s never been good with words, so it’s a relief to be allowed another language to explain his love. It’s part of what drew him to Jaskier, someone who said so much but seemed to inherently understand the need and worth of silence.
In the end no one is surprised when the two turn up to Yen’s next dinner party side by side. Geralt’s not one for announcements, but the new grace with which they move is like planets orbiting one another as if they were each other’s sun speaks the volumes their stoic Witcher cannot. Jaskier brings a lightness to Geralt’s life he didn’t know he was missing. While Geralt brings a stability Jaskier has always craved. They balance one another out in equal measure. It’s messy and weird at times, but it’s the happiest any of them have ever seen their white wolf . And if they think he looks entirely adorable with flowers braided into his hair and monster blood staining the petals, well they all just smile and keep it to themselves. Thankful that two lonely wonderful beings found just what they needed.
