#katastroffi

[the-mightier-pen]

New oneshot - More Than We Were But Less Than We Will Be

Geralt is wounded and Jaskier strives to be his most gentle as he tends to the witcher's wounds. In a moment of intimacy, they become more than friends.

Geralt was bleeding.

As he limped up the stairs to his rented room, hand clutching his wounded side, Jaskier came bursting out of the door, concern knitting his brow. Geralt allowed himself to be drawn to the bed where he sat down wearily. Jaskier was already tearing at Geralt's shirt, trying to bare the wound beneath. There was blood, it hurt like a bastard, and Jaskier's face was pale. His maddening babble of words without breath in between spoke of his nervousness as he reached for the tools he'd prepared - a bowl of water, a rag, medicinal alcohol, a needle and thread. As Geralt took off his shirt, Jaskier sat down beside him, his throat bobbing as his eyes took in the bloody claw marks across the witcher's side.

Geralt could hear the quickened beat of Jaskier's heart, heard the hitch in his breath as he soaked the rag then dabbed carefully at Geralt's wound. Geralt didn't flinch, too used to pain by now. But he wasn't so accustomed to the tenderness that Jaskier displayed. His touch was oh-so-gentle as blood soaked the white rag red. As he wrung it out over the bowl, the water flooded with crimson.

Geralt hadn't asked Jaskier to play nursemaid, he was no healer. But Jaskier had offered his assistance and it was becoming something of a habit. Geralt figured he didn't deserve such tenderness. But he couldn't have spurned Jaskier if he'd tried. The bard was determined to help Geralt whenever he could, however he was able. If that meant getting his hands dirty, Jaskier didn't baulk.

The bard's pale hands were stained with blood now, as he set aside the bowl and uncorked the bottle of alcohol. His voice wobbled as he made a half hearted joke that didn't conceal his trepidation. Upending the bottle to splash the liquid on Geralt's wound, Jaskier flinched as if he was the one injured. Geralt didn't move a muscle. Behind his lips, his teeth were gritted.

While Jaskier reinserted the cork in the bottle, Geralt glanced down at his side, saw the inflammation and the gaping wound. He knew what was needed next, and felt guilt twist his gut at what he would ask of his bard.

“Jask, I need you to stitch it up.”

Jaskier's lashes fluttered, his nostrils flared. He'd tended to Geralt's wounds numerous times now but he'd never had to suture. He wasn't trained for such things, didn't have the constituency for blood and guts. Geralt just hoped he wouldn't faint.

Reaching for the needle and thread, Jaskier fumbled. His hands were shaking as he tried repeatedly to thread the needle. Geralt took hold of his wrists. That little reassurance was enough to bolster Jaskier. Jaw squared where his teeth were gritted, Jaskier puckered the flesh around Geralt's wound then pushed the needle through. Geralt fought not to make a sound, not wanting to disturb Jaskier. Jaskier was leaning so close now, eyes locked on his task, Geralt could feel his breath, warm and gentle against his mouth. The bard's dark lashes were lowered over his downcast eyes but Geralt could see the emotion swimming in the sky blue.

“I'm sorry,” he muttered gruffly.

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[the-mightier-pen]

Chapter 6 of More Than What I Fear

Geralt is determined to keep Jaskier away from danger. A little too determined...

Jaskier was in the study, busy uploading more content to his social media account, when Geralt stepped into the room and asked if they could talk. From the look on Geralt's face, Jaskier knew this was something serious. Geralt looked like he was chewing on a lemon. His arms were folded across his chest.

Inviting him to take a seat on the edge of the desk, Jaskier waited for Geralt to sit but the witcher remained standing. Not knowing what to say, Jaskier offered his boyfriend a small smile. Geralt didn't return it.

“Darling, what's this about…?” Jaskier asked tentatively. Whatever Geralt was about to say could not be good.

Sighing through his nose, Geralt bowed his head. When he spoke, his voice was raw. “I don't think you should come on any more hunts with me.”

Ah, that bad penny again. Jaskier should have seen this coming. He knew Geralt had been beside himself while he'd been in hospital, constantly watching vigil over Jaskier’s bedside. They hadn't spoken about it, Jaskier assumed his boyfriend was feeling better now that he was well again. But it seemed he'd been chewing on his troubles like a dog with a bone.

Sliding forward in the chair, Jaskier reached out to touch Geralt's arm. “I'm sorry I scared you, babe. If it helps, I'll only come with you on smaller jobs, safer targets. I have no intention of going back down the sewers again. I've already ruined one pair of shoes,” he added, scrunching his nose.

Geralt didn't seem appeased. He looked away from Jaskier, avoiding his eyes. “No job is safe for you, Jask. I've had to save your life countless times now.”

Jaskier stood from the chair and took Geralt by the arms, forcing his eyes to meet his. “And you were there for me every single time. If I need to get my message across to the masses, I need to be there with you. Let me be there for you.”

“You weren't made to be a witcher. I can't lose you that way…” Shaking his head, Geralt took hold of Jaskier's arms and lowered them. They stood hand in hand, speaking without saying a word.

Jaskier knew how afraid Geralt was, but he couldn't ask him to stop doing what he did. Couldn't ask him to be a stay-at-home partner who lounged around all day doing sod all with his time and his money. That wasn't who Jaskier was.

“Darling, we've been over this…”

Geralt wasn't listening. “I can't do this, Jaskier. You can't expect me to watch you die.”

Jaskier sighed, snatching his hands from Geralt's. “You wouldn't understand. You were made to do what you do. It's hardly a choice. But I choose-”

“I was made to face my own death, Jaskier, not yours.” Geralt's eyes blazed. “I've been submitted to mutagens to make me faster, stronger. I can withstand things that would kill you in a heartbeat.”

“I've survived so far, haven't I?”

Geralt ground his teeth. “But one time you won't.”

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[the-mightier-pen]

New oneshot - Can Be Anything

Geralt and Jaskier lay cloud gazing. But Geralt's attention slips to the man beside him, his long-time friend and, perhaps, more…

“Look, Geralt, that cloud looks like a horse!”

Lay beside Jaskier on the lush green grass of the hillside, Geralt's gaze followed his friend's pointing finger. Squinting, Geralt tried to recognise a vaguely equine shape in the clouds, but could only make out something that resembled a sausage.

“They’re just clouds,” he grunted, folding one arm behind his head.

Chewing on a piece of long grass between his teeth, Jaskier objected. “‘Just clouds’, you say. Pfft. Clouds are amazing, Geralt. They can be anything. Animals, objects, look that one is heart shaped!”

Hearing the glee in Jaskier's voice, Geralt turned his head to look at his friend. The summer sun had kissed Jaskier's pale skin in the recent days, its glow positively lighting up his face. It glimmered in his long dark lashes, shimmered in his bright blue eyes. Those eyes reflected the turquoise sky above, so that Geralt felt as if he were gazing into summer itself.

Geralt had often looked at Jaskier admirably but not quite in this detail. The smile at the edge of Jaskier's lips tugged at his heart strings. Did Geralt love Jaskier? They were more than friends, had been for a long time, even though their lips had never met. They were in love but hadn't actually said as much.

Geralt knew Jaskier had loved him since they first met, his habitual flirtations hadn't gone unnoticed. But he hadn't made a move for Geralt, and Geralt hadn't returned Jaskier's flirtations. He'd watched his friend flit between lovers like a moth to a flame, always burned in the process. Geralt was always there to bolster him when he needed it, but he'd kept his emotions to himself, as was his way. He figured Jaskier might not want anything more than platonic love with Geralt, flirtation was just in Jaskier's nature after all. But as time went by, Geralt found his affection for his friend growing day by day, and soon began to question if he wanted more.

Looking at his friend now, Geralt knew what he wanted.

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[the-mightier-pen]

New Oneshot - See You as I Do

Geralt returns from a hunt bloody and wounded, but despite Jaskier's tender ministrations he seeks to drive his lover away. Geralt fears he does not deserve, twisted mutant that he is. Jaskier implores him to open his heart to love. Can Jaskier persuade Geralt to stay with him?

“This needs to end.”

Jaskier's words stuttered behind his teeth. “Wh-what?”

Geralt slumped down on the end of the bed, slashed the whetstone over his blade, leaving a faint tsshing hanging in the silence. “Us,” was all he said.

“Wha-... Us? What's that supposed to mean?” Jaskier folded his arms, striving for stoicness despite the wrenching of his heart.

“We can't continue.” Geralt's focus was all on the sharpening of his sword, he wouldn't even look his love in the eye.

Jaskier swallowed the lump in his throat. “Why not?” His voice was but a croak.

Tsshing. The stone swept over the blade. Tsshing. Eventually Geralt spoke. “Witchers don't love.”

Sighing with a roll of his eyes, Jaskier huffed. “We've been through this before. Don't pull out the old I'm a mutant and mutants can't love bullshit. I've already told you it's not true. You love your daughter. You even care about Yennefer, although Melitele knows what you could possibly feel for a soul-consuming she-demon. I think you can spare a little affection for your beloved bard, hmm?”

Geralt said nothing, didn't even raise his head. The habitual tsshing cut through the strings of Jaskier's heart. Biting back his mounting anguish, Jaskier sat down on the bed beside Geralt. “Yer know, your beloved bard truly does love you, Geralt. Deeply. All my songs are about you,” he added, “In case you hadn't noticed.”

Geralt sighed through his nose, frowning. “I don't deserve.” He swept the whetstone over the blade. Tsshing.

Jaskier's hand on his arm stilled him. “Geralt, you've done more for me than-”

“No.” Geralt snatched his arm away from Jaskier's touch. “All I've done is put you in danger. Following me puts you in danger. You've almost died more times than I can count.”

It was true that Jaskier had come near to death on several occasions. Being with Geralt meant facing dangers on a regular basis. Be it monstrous or manly - Jaskier had been tortured, after all, by the sadistic Rience, but even that hadn't deterred him. He was bound to Geralt.

“Darling-”

“Don't.”

Jaskier bit the inside of his bottom lip, trying to calm the breaking of his heart.

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[the-mightier-pen]

New oneshot - Only Guy in the World

Modern au where Geralt hears Jaskier talking to a friend on the phone but mistakenly thinks he's talking about someone else because the guy he describes is nothing like him. He doesn't realise Jaskier loves him that much to make him sound amazing.

“Essi, I've met someone.”

Those were the first words Geralt heard as he stepped through the door, returning home after a trip to the supermarket. Jaskier was poised in the living room, back to Geralt as he spoke to his friend on the phone. He didn't seem to have heard his boyfriend enter, so Geralt quietly sneaked to the kitchen to unpack the bags. He could still hear Jaskier's conversation.

“I haven't told Geralt yet but…”

Geralt froze, hand around a tin of tomatoes. He stood stock still as Jaskier continued.

“He's amazing, Essi. Like no-one I've ever known before. He's so caring and gentle and he makes me feel like I'm the only guy in the world.”

The enthusiasm in Jaskier's voice was undeniable. Geralt ground his teeth, biting back the ache which threatened to engulf him. So Jaskier had met another man. I haven't told Geralt yet… So what did Jaskier want? An open relationship? He'd promised to be loyal to Geralt when they'd first hooked up, neither of them wanting to share the other. So where did that leave them? Was Jaskier planning to break up with Geralt? They'd only been together a couple of weeks.

Trying to calm the rending of his heart, Geralt opened the cupboard and began placing his food items inside, the monotony of the task failing to distract him from Jaskier's fervent conversation.

“What does he look like? Well, he's tall and handsome. Has the most beautiful hair, to die for. Muscles on muscles. I can't wait to-”

What Jaskier couldn't wait to do to this “handsome” bastard, Geralt didn't hear as the thud of him slamming the cupboard door in anger drowned out Jaskier's voice. Jaskier didn't appear to notice. His words bubbled out in glee as he spoke to Essi.

“It's unreal, Essi. He's like a dream come true. I've never met anyone who makes me feel so special. He could be the One, Essi… I know, I know, after all this time searching… Yeah, I know it's not like me but this guy is more than a fuck and go. He's husband material.”

Geralt ground his teeth, fists clenched. So that's what Jaskier thought of him, a fuck and go. This other guy was special, then. Husband material. It was clear Jaskier was smitten. He obviously intended to break up with Geralt.

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[the-mightier-pen]

New oneshot - Made to Love

In a world where Love At First Sight is a sign of meeting your soulmate, Jaskier believes it all a lie. He has had many paramours and never felt such a thing.

Until he meets Geralt.

The witcher feels it too, but is unwilling to follow his heart, too wrapped up in his own fear. Leaving Geralt behind, Jaskier turns to another, a prince who falls in Love At First Sight as soon as his eyes fall upon the bard. But can their intimacy ever be enough?

When Jaskier feels a tug at his heart, signalling that Geralt is in trouble, he races to the witcher's side, finding him near death.

Jaskier and Geralt both have a choice to make. Can the two men follow fate and choose love?

Geralt didn't think it was possible for witchers to love. Mutants with emotions trained out of them, how could someone like him possibly love another?

When his eyes met the bard's, his whole world upended. He felt his chest swelling, like his ribs might burst. He couldn't breathe. What the fuck was wrong with him?

But the way this young man looked back at him, full of wonder and awe, he must feel it too.

Geralt knew, then.

Love At First Sight.

How could it be? He was a gods-be-damned mutant. He couldn't love, not like this…

But this young man was so beautiful. He leaned forward, eyes wide with enchantment, and breathed, “I’m Jaskier…”

Jaskier, such a pretty name, Geralt thought. Like the flower.

He shook his head, as if he could rid himself of such nonsense. When had he ever fawned over anyone like this? Never. He knew better than that. Or so he’d thought.

“I’m Geralt…” His voice was even huskier than usual, breaking as his heart ached for this beautiful bard.

Jaskier reached out across the table and took hold of Geralt's hand. It was as if a spark tingled along his fingers and up his arm. He stared at the bard's hand on his, felt his fingers twitch. He wanted to hold this man, to feel the smoothness of his flesh. Feel their lips meet, feel bodies entwined.

Geralt looked away, afraid of what he was feeling. It was overwhelming.

“Geralt… I think…” Geralt couldn't help but look back, drawn to this young man inexplicably. His blue eyes were shining as he said, breathlessly, “I think I love you.”

The urge to return the sentiment stole the breath from Geralt's throat, the feeling was so strong. With all his efforts, he clamped his teeth shut, bit back the words. This couldn't be happening. He didn't need any other in his life; wanted no one needing him. He was made to live alone. Made to kill. He wasn't made to have anyone else. The way he felt… It was preposterous.

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[the-mightier-pen]

New Oneshot - Starved and Wanting, Needing, Feeding

In a melancholy moment, Jaskier recalls his many paramours and the falsity of their affections. Seeking truth, he turns to Geralt - the man who supplies the only genuine affection he has ever known. Geralt can't pretend anymore, and when the two men come together, nothing will be the same again.

The campfire flickered yellows and golds over Jaskier’s pale skin as he sat cross legged on the ground. His eyes tracked the movements of the flames, his thoughts flitting from one memory to another.

He’d shared his heart with many a lover over the years; some for just a night, others kept returning to his bed for months. They’d all been memorable in their own way. The Countess de Stael. Anna Henrietta. Vespula.

Radovid.

It was the prince’s apparent mask that Jaskier was thinking of now. The veil he thought he’d seen through, only to discover that he’d been wrong.

You can't play a player, that's what I say.

Radovid had played him well and truly.

Jaskier had been so hungry for affection, all it had taken was Radovid singing back his song and he’d jumped right into the prince's arms.

It didn't matter that Radovid’s duping had real attraction behind it; he’d still used Jaskier for his own ends.

Jaskier should have known better.

When had he ever looked upon the face of true affection? All his one night lovers had offered him their arms but when morning came (sometimes sooner than desired when he’d had to jump out of a few windows) that ‘affection’ didn't last.

He was used and discarded until the next paramour came along, for him to sing sweet melodies to while they plucked his heart strings, then swept him aside.

Sure, he’d enjoyed it at the time. Years of hopping from one bed to another had scratched an itch, fulfilled a need, but as the decades went by Jaskier found himself yearning for something more. He hadn't realised it before but thinking upon it now, he really had been starved of true affection. He may have thought himself the continent’s most ardent lover but when had that love ever been returned?

A gentle hand resting on his shoulder drew his attention from deep in his melancholy musings. Geralt sat down beside him, giving his shoulder a squeeze.

“Everything alright, Jask?”

Jaskier forced a small smile. Geralt didn't remove his hand, his brows creasing with concern.

Sighing through pursed lips, Jaskier bowed his head but couldn't speak of his loneliness. It was too deep, too raw.

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[the-mightier-pen]

Final chapter of More Than What I Fear

This one's simply full of fluff.

Ciri clapped her hands in delight. “Geralt, uncle Jask has made you beautiful.”

Jaskier sat cross legged behind Geralt on the bed, leaning back to admire his handiwork. Geralt's long white tresses had been woven into a thick plait that hung down his back. He’d sat perfectly still while Jaskier's fingers flitted about his head. Jaskier was enjoying himself thoroughly. He looked into the mirror across the room, saw the small smile tweaking Geralt's lips as their eyes met in the reflection.

“Me next!” Ciri cried, elbowing Geralt out of the way so she could take his place.

“You won't be able to sit still long enough,” Geralt teased her as he rose from the edge of the bed and stepped aside.

“Can too,” Ciri protested, sticking out her tongue.

Jaskier got to work on her hair, humming quietly to himself. Ciri sang along, eager to join in one of Jaskier's songs.

Geralt knelt down on the floor before his daughter and began playing a game of pat-a-cake with her to keep her occupied.

It was only a few moments before Ciri slapped his hands away. “Geralt! You're doing it all wrong!”

“He knows nothing, does he?” Jaskier tsk tsked as he wove the girl's hair together.

Geralt gave a playful growl, taking Ciri by the wrists to hold her hands up. “Show me, then. You be teacher.”

Ciri took to the role of instructor with much aplomb, bossing Geralt about with a superior air, scolding him when he still got it wrong.

When Jaskier was finished, Ciri leapt up, thanked him profusely with a kiss upon his cheek, then raced off to show Yennefer. She appeared in the doorway, appraising both Ciri and Geralt's hair with a cool ambivalence.

“Want me to do yours next?” Jaskier asked with a wink.

“Hell will freeze over before I let you touch me, busker.” Yennefer drew Ciri into the lounge, promising to let her practise guitar later if she completed her homework.

Geralt got to his feet, letting Jaskier take him by the hands to tug him closer so their knees were touching.

Looking up at Geralt, Jaskier grinned. “You do look beautiful, my darling. You should let me do your hair more often.”

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