Prompt for you! I would love to see Jaskier teaching Ciri how to play lute/guitar and Geralt just watching all somfte and 😍
Yessss absolutely! I am very soft for them and here is a taste of my limited knowledge of guitars and some hoping that music had the same basics back then.
Please enjoy <3
On Ao3 here
It is endearing, the way Ciri takes after Jaskier immediately. Everything he does, she does too. Currently, she is sitting between Jaskier's legs, his lute propped over their laps, him patiently showing her what finger goes where and how.
Both of them are poking their tongues out now and then, and Geralt can't stop watching them.
There is something warm building in his chest, something that has been growing for a while, something that is filling him to the brim.
"Almost, little one. Here. Listen to the sound of the strings. Do you hear the difference between when you pluck it with your nail and the pad of your finger? Good!"
When Jaskier praises her, she beams. Her smile is wide, her cheeks rosy, and she sends a smug look towards Geralt, and he smiles back. He does that more now. Smiles. It feels good.
He looks down at his mending, pretending to work as he listens to Jaskier instructing her. They have been doing this for some nights now. This far north it is far between shelters, and they have spent more than one night under the stars.
But the weather is nice, and Ciri is happy.
He is happy.
They decided to make their way towards the keep early, taking their time crossing the continent, taking the safe path up the mountain. If Geralt can spare her hardships, he will.
Roach and Pegasus are grazing among the trees, the evening birds are singing to their heart's content, and Ciri makes a twanging noise on the lute.
"Sorry," she mumbles, and Geralt has to smile again.
"Don't worry. Try to pluck it softer. Hold your fingers here. A little wider."
"It stings."
"Your fingers aren't used to it. Here, feel my hand."
Geralt looks up to see Jaskier open his open palm to Ciri. Her smaller ones touch his musician fingers, her heads tilting.
"They are so rough."
"It's my armor. They let me play all night."
"Will mine be like that?" she asks, rubbing her fingers together. The tips of them are a little red.
"If you want to. But it takes a lot of practice and a lot of patience."
"I can be patient," Ciri insists and Geralt chuckles.
Ciri is probably the least patient person he knows, asking at least fifteen times in an hour if they could stop now so Jaskier could show her the lute. By the glare she sends him, she remembers too.
Jaskier hums goodnaturedly, and replaces her hands with his on the lute. The humming turns into a song, and he plucks out a simple melody slowly, every move exaggerated for her to easily follow. Ciri looks down at the lute, her tongue peeking between her teeth again in concentration.
"There are so many strings," she mutters.
"Do you remember which is which?"
Jaskier retreats his hands and lets Ciri pluck each pair of strings as she names them. He nods his approval, and then presses down on one of the strings.
"Do you remember what this note is called?"
A lock of hair falls down into her eyes as she looks down and does some mental calculation.
"B," she says. "G. D flat."
"Good! Your turn," Jaskier says approvingly, leaning back to let her grab the lute. It is too big for her, and probably way more strings than any beginner should be learning on.
"Give me an F. Alright, yes, very clever, but use both hands. Another F. How many can you find?"
The mending lies forgotten in Geralt's lap as he watches them. That wild lock of hair keeps falling into Ciri's eye, and Jaskier pulls it behind her ear every time as he guides her through the same melody he played before.
When she realizes, her smile could rival the sun in its brightness.
As night falls and Ciri is tucked into one of the bedrolls behind them, Jaskier and Geralt sit next to each other. The embers are glowing, casting them into semi darkness.
"Thank you," Geralt says quietly.
"For what?"
"For being here. For teaching her." For being you, he doesn't say, barely holds back.
Jaskier hears it anyway and bumps his shoulder to Geralt's.
"Thank you," he says back.
"For what?"
"For trusting me. For keeping her safe." For keeping me, Geralt hears but Jaskier doesn't say.
That warm feeling is filling him up, making him foolish, making him brave. When Jaskier sits back up properly again, Geralt reaches between them and links their hands.
Neither looks at the other. They watch the embers, listen to the night, and breathe in the cooling air.
It doesn't matter that their path is slow. The path home can be tricky, Geralt has learned. Best to walk it with care and intention.
As Ciri sighs in her sleep behind them, Jaskier tightens the grip on his hand.
Home can be a place.
Home can be a someone.
Home can hold his hands or sigh in her sleep or ask a thousand questions.
Wherever they are, Geralt's life is a little better when Home walks with him.
Ellie Ellie Ellie Ellie!! Can I respectfully ask for some slightly spicy Lambden? Maybe Aiden trying to seduce Lambert for the first time?
my dearest wolfie, you can and you shall receive! <3
Thank you, it was fun to write!
This gets spicy at the end, so it is +18 (under the cut!) (nothing too detailed, but genitals are mentioned)
read on ao3
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“You’ve been travelling with a cat witcher?” Geralt asked Lambert with raised eyebrows, a tankard of ale in hand.
They had met by chance in a dingy tavern in the middle of nowhere and spent the evening trading stories about their hunts and getting drunk on the piss-poor ale.
“Fuck off,” Lambert replied, “he is a good person.” He shook his head before he let it fall back to drain his tankard.
“You of all people should know that a bad reputation must not be true,” Lambert continued, and because he felt particularly prickly he added, “butcher.”
Geralt huffed and kicked Lambert under the table.
But Lambert was unimpressed and waved the barmaid over to refill their beer.
“What makes him such a good person?” Geralt wanted to know.
“Oh, you know, he is a good friend, helped me out with a contract,” Lambert said, avoiding Geralt’s gaze. A knowing grin started to form on the older witcher’s face.
“So you like him,” Geralt said a moment later. This time Lambert kicked him under the table and mumbled, “it’s not like this.”
Geralt’s grin got even wider when he leaned forward and quietly said to the other witcher, “oh, you haven’t told him, have you?”
“Fuck you,” Lambert said, “you can talk with your decade long pinging for your bard.”
Geralt huffed but couldn’t stop grinning at the accidental affirmation that Lambert was indeed interested in the cat.
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Lambert stumbled to his room. He and Geralt had been drinking for another hour or two till both couldn’t stand straight and Geralt had staggered to his own room.
Lambert froze in the door frame as he noticed someone on his room but relaxed a second later when he made out Aiden. He was sitting on his bed, propped up against the headboard and reading.
“What the fuck are you doing here,” Lambert slurred and closed the door behind him.
Aiden put down the book and looked up with a wicked grin on his face.
“Oh, you know, I picked up on your scent just on the outskirts of the village and followed it here.” He moved to the edge of the bed and put his feet on the floor, leaning forward on his elbows.
Lambert furrowed his brows. “And you didn’t say hi, just went to my room, to do what? Read?”
“Ah, you see, I heard you talking with your brother and I didn’t want to interrupt that...interesting conversation.” His grin was nearly splitting his face now.
Lambert’s eyes went wide and his jaw dropped open. He took an involuntary step back till his back was pressed to the door.
“Ahm...what did you…” he stammered as his face heated up.
Aiden mustered him with what could only be described as a hungry glare.
“That you find me irresistable,” Aiden said after another moment, licking his lips.
“I...I never said that,” Lambert said, scratching the back of his neck, “and that was a private conversation.” His voice had gotten more quiet with every word.
“Maybe not in these exact words, but I heard you whisper to Geralt that I have the perfect ass.”
Lambert turned around to storm out of the room, but Aiden was faster. He had walked over in quick strides and gripped his wrist.
“Stop right there,” he growled.
Lambert pulled his arm out of his grasp.
“Now look at me, pup,” Aiden purred and lifted Lambert’s chin till they were eye to eye. He reached out for his hand again, but this time he pressed something into Lambert’s palm, something cold...a vial?
“What?...” Lambert began but was interrupted.
“White honey,” Aiden said, “drink it.”
When Lambert frowned Aiden raised his eyebrows and said, “I want you sober when I suck your dick.”
“My what?”
“Drink,” Aiden said again.
Lambert blinked before he pulled out the cork and downed the potion in one gulp. It felt like something cold washed over his body. He swallowed and pressed his eyes closed for a moment before he opened them again, the alcohol cleared from his blood.
Aiden was still standing close, carefully watching his face till he was convinced that the other was sober. He took the empty vial out of Lambert's hand and a second later cupped his cheek with one of his hands. His eyes wandered from Lambert’s golden ones down to his lips and back up again.
“Now tell me again,” he purred as he leaned forward till his lips nearly met Lambert’s ear, “what you think about my butt.”
Lambert inhaled sharply.
“It’s perfect,” he whispered hoarsely, “and I really want to touch it.”
Aiden chuckled and said, “then do it.”
Lambert wrapped his arms around Aiden and pressed him close, just holding him for a moment. His hands wandered down his back and finally found the perfect curve of Aiden’s magnificent ass. He squeezed and gasped as Aiden bit his neck playfully.
Lambert pulled Aiden desperately towards himself. The cat laughed against his neck and Lambert was sure that he had never heard something more beautiful. Aiden kissed the spot he had bitten and then along Lambert’s jaw till he pressed his lips to Lambert’s. The kiss got fierce and desperate, uncoordinated and with a bit too much teeth and tongue, but neither of them cared.
When they came up for air both were panting, gaze linked with the other.
“So,” Aiden began, “what do you think about my proposition from earlier?”
Lambert cocked his head and narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember anything that had happened before their kiss. “Proposition?”
Aiden bucked his hip forward and Lambert gasped as he felt Aidens hard cock through his trousers press against his.
“That I suck your dick.” Aiden was grinning broadly again. Lambert opened and closed his mouth a few times before he swallowed and said, “yes..ahm...I mean, please?”
With a laugh the cat gave him a quick peck on the lips before he winked and dropped to his knees.
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I would like to thank @jaskierswolf because their amazing Modern!AU Geraskier fic ‘You Set My Heart Ablaze’ has inspired me to write my own Modern!AU Geraskier fic.
It’s not set in their universe, mine is immortal!Jaskier, immortal!Geralt and witchers still exist. It’s also a holiday fic featuring many cute things. I’ve started writing it already because I cannot stop myself and who needs sleep anyways?
Can I just say.... you are doing the lords work by making gifs of Not About Angels!!! I absolutely adore the play and it’s a joy to see it on my dash ☺️
Have I mentioned how much I love your Ten and Donna fanart?? I feel like I would have mentioned it... but in case I haven't. I LOVE IT! It's so cute and you capture the scenes perfectly in your style which is adorable and I just love!
Oh thank you!! 🥰 I’m glad you like it! I watched too much anime back in the day and my style really gives that away, but it doesn’t seem to matter as much when I’m sketching David Tennant because the man looks like an anime character. Lots of fun to sketch. I recommend it to anyone who likes lazily sketching.
