My @merrywitchermas (pinch-hit) gift for @wanderlust-t!!! I hope you enjoy this little scene of Yennskier bathing together.
1.9k, Yennskier, rated M-- no content warnings
excerpt:
“Witch.”
“Bard,” she responded reflexively to the foolish man she felt standing just behind her at the opening to her tent. She turned and seemed to have caught him off-guard. “What?”
“Oh I just… er…” he said quietly, glancing around their campsite in the woods.
Geralt had crafted a small shelter— small enough that it was very obviously only for Ciri, who was curled up within it under her fur. Geralt himself knelt in meditation beside her, a hand on the pommel of his sword.
Jaskier’s eyes ticked back to Yen’s. “Was wondering if you had some room to spare in your tent. That is, if it’s not boobytrapped.”
The witch rolled her eyes and kept herself from smiling, giving him a small nod.
“Actually, depending on the boobytrap…” He followed her inside and gasped. “Well my giddy garters this is a sight! A full-size bed! Ooh is that— a goosefeather mattress?”
“It is,” she said slowly, “And it is that size so that I may sprawl upon it. I’ll conjure you a cushion for the floor.”
“My good lady witch—“
“Oh, I’m a good lady witch now, am I?”
“You most certainly are not. You’re a great witch, and a horrible woman.”
“I believe you began this sentiment asking for something?”
“Right— because only a horrible woman would resign a poor, miserable little bard to sleep upon the cold, hard ground!”
I was tagged by @wanderlust-t, thank you very much <3 and I’m not even ages late, yaay for me loool
Rules: post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular), your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year, your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year, your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year, and your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year!
Top 5 works (from least to most recent)
Aren’t we just terrified? (Yenralt) because it’s angsty bed sharing that doesn’t really fix anything, it’s just a bit of post-s2 angsty Trying To Coexist somehow and I’m a little angst gremlin
Lifesaver (Napollya) because “Napoleon pretends to have amnesia so that his sort-of-frenemy Illya will pity him and help him out” is a ridiculous premise and I stand by it LOL
That girl is everything to me (she gets that from you) (Yennefer&Ciri + Geralt/Yenralt), AKA the MCD AU. Have I mentioned that I’m a little angst gremlin?
At the end of the line (Napollya), because it’s pointless whump and I love writing pointless whump LOL.
A room full of strangers (Gapollya), which is the TMFU exchange fic, and honestly it’s not perfect but it came out better than I thought it would LOL.
Top 4 current wips
A Napollya time travel AU where the time travel is just background, because UNCLE as an organization chases people wrecking havoc through time. It’s a getting together fic so I anticipate it will take me three thousand years and a blood sacrifice to finish it LOL
A few new Napollya fics for the Witcher AU collection.
All the WIPs left for the Whumpcember prompts honestly LOOOL including two “let me make a demon deal and sell my soul” fics and something for the Immortal Napoleon series.
That damn 5+1 fic about Illya being touchy with Napoleon and Napoleon having a crisis about it that I’ve talked about before and I WILL FINISH SOONER OR LATER OR SO HELP ME
Top 3 improvements
I managed to write way more fics than usual for a monthly challenge because I actually managed to come up with a bunch of shorter ideas lool, good for me. I didn’t actually finish it, but I never expected to, so LOL
I hope that my English has improved somewhat and that it will keep improving loool
I still struggle with titles but I am struggling a little less than before, so. improvements LOL
Top 2 resolutions
Finish that 5+1 touching WIP I swear to god--- Actually finish one of the multichapter WIPs I have in my pc. I wanna. but I just. don’t.
I would like to try writing for some new fandoms (like some Nabrielise for instance) but it always takes me a WHILE to get in the headspace for that so, hopefully!
Number 1 favorite line this year
I wrote......WAY to much for this to be the ACTUAL number one, I’m probably forgetting something, but the first that came to mind was:
He carries on his skin the proof that once, when he had the choice, Illya decided to do everything he could to save his life. He thinks that, no matter how things will end, that means something. (x)
Idk, I like the angsty but the-love-was-there-it-didn’t-change-anything-but-it-matters-that-the-love-was-there vibes loool
.
Tagging (no pressure and I hope you didn’t do it already LOL): @cha-melodius @set-phasers-to-whump @witch-and-her-witcher @ikeepwatchinghelicopters @statusquoergo @ialwayswilll @shineyma
kathi my sweet may i ask for 23 or 45 for the touch prompts with either ship?? whatever fits your mood 🥰
Chrysa my love, thank you for your ask. Your writing sparks so much joy and I hope I was able to do the same with this, even though it is a bit sad — I hope you can forgive me! 💕
This was also in no way inspired by me romanticizing the cold today, no.
prompt: yennskier + “feeling their temperature”
wc: 803
tags: modern!au, established relationship (married), hurt/comfort with some fluff
cw: hints at depression + a suicide-attempt
part of the "glimpses at love"-series ✨
Jaskier is woken up from a chilly breeze tickling his nose. It's a sharp contrast to the warmth he is surrounded by underneath the thick duvet covering him, pulled tightly around his body like a cocoon. Usually, he would turn around, tuck the blanket high up until it is over his ears and nose and fall right back asleep.
Tonight though, something feels off. It is too cold, almost as if someone's left the window open—
When he turns around to look for Yennefer, he finds her side of the bed empty. A glance at the alarm on his bedside table tells him that it is far too early for her to be up for work already, and suddenly the cold air filling up the room makes sense.
It takes all his willpower to gather the strength to leave the bed, leave his shield of warmth, but the need to check up on Yennefer, on his wife, is far stronger.
He hisses as his bare feet touch the icy floor. He knows that he's being dramatic, but as he walks through the apartment and follows the breeze of cold air, he feels as though his toes might just fall off.
Finally, when he enters the living room, Jaskier can see the cause of his shivering: the door to the balcony is wide open, an invitation for the cold winter air to come inside.
He approaches the balcony but doesn't step outside just yet, instead leaning against the doorframe and looking at Yennefer.
She is standing with her back turned to him, leaning against the railing with her arms hanging loosely at her sides. Her hair is cascading down her small frame, the wind gently moving it every so often. It is a beautiful image, and if it wasn't below freezing point Jaskier could continue staring at her for hours.
But he can't, and so he steps outside, his feet numb on the ground.
"How long have you been out here?" he asks and reaches for Yennefer's hand. "Good gods, your fingers are like icicles! My love, let's get you inside!"
He gently tugs at her arm, but Yennefer doesn't budge, doesn't even turn around to look at him. He knows she's heard him though, and so he wraps his arms around her torso from behind and holds her close. How she's not shivering he doesn't know, but her skin feels like ice underneath his fingers.
"A little while. Couldn't sleep," she finally answers and puts her hands on his, leaning into the hug.
"Wanna talk about it?" he offers, hoping that she understands that she doesn't have to, that he's happy to just hold her, that there's no obligation to share her thoughts just because he's asked, just because they're married.
"I wanted to be uncomfortable." Jaskier doesn't say anything in response, just presses a kiss to her temple. He doesn't question her, only hums once to let her know that she can keep talking if she wants to.
"Sometimes... I need to be uncomfortable," she continues, absent-mindedly using her thumb to draw little circles on Jaskier's hand. "Even though right now, my ears feel like they might fall off and my fingers are numb, I am comfortable. Because I know that when I go back inside to warm up again it's going to feel even sweeter."
Jaskier lets out another hum and hides his face in her hair. It smells of lavender and her, and he pulls her even closer.
"It reminds me that I'm alive, to not take things for granted. Of how far I've come." At that, she turns her hands upwards so that her wrists are exposed. Two silver lines are visible on each arm, so faint that you could almost miss them. To Jaskier though, they are shining brightly, glowing almost, and he feels a tug at his heart.
"I'm glad you're here," is all he manages to get out, not willing to let the tears that are welling in his eyes take over. This isn't his moment to be sad. This isn't his moment, full-stop. So instead he thanks her silently, thanks her for being here, for choosing him, for choosing to fight every day.
Maybe he will tell her tomorrow, maybe not. For now, he keeps pressing soft kisses to her face and neck, each one a Thank you, thank you, thank you. He hopes she understands. The quiet sigh she lets out tells him that she does.
He doesn't know how long they're standing there, out in the cold, holding each other and just being present in the moment. But when they finally step back inside and they sit on the sofa, a blanket wrapped around their shoulders and each a cup of steaming hot tea in their hands, he smiles.
How sweet it feels.
tagging @cthulhusteve @herostag and @luteandsword ✨
florist au + twenty-four hours to live for yenralt 👀
ok so i'm thinking this is a magical realism AU also where yen is a witch still
and one day she makes some powerful mage angry and gets cursed, left with only 24 hours to live.
so she sets out to solve that problem and tries all kinds of spells and potions but nothing seems to work. so she calls her best friend triss to get her help, and maybe she has better ideas?
so together they try even more stuff but the hours pass and it's looking grim for yen. they're looking in books and online and everywhere to find what could save her.
but then something calls for a specific flower yen doesn't have in her lab and triss tells her to go fetch some and fuck.
yen usually gets her supplies from another witch but sometimes for certain plants and flowers she goes to this small flower shop. which is owned by a certain dude named geralt who's absolutely the sweetest and she may be kind of in love with him. just a little bit.
she doesn't want to say goodbye to him.
and she won't goddamit. once yen set her mind to something, she gets it done! ....right?
so she goes to the small shop and geralt welcomes her with a huge smile, going "hey yen, so good to see you! i managed to get my hands on this philodendron erubescens, you absolutely need to see it. i told jaskier that - " before he stops and goes, "what's wrong?"
and like, they've talked a lot, and his love and knowledge of nature is incredible and also adorable and he's looking at her with big eyes and there the worry line between his eyebrows and she can't lie to him, not now.
so she ends up telling him everything about the curse and he takes it surprisingly well??? and he wants to help out! and at first she refuses but then it's like, what does she have to lose truly? so she accepts.
and he brings out his big books and with triss too they continue looking. and the clock keeps ticking but they find nothing new.
somehow jaskier gets involved too and he's like "haha but have you tried true love's kiss?" and everyone goes "shut up jaskier"
and yen becomes more and more nervous, and more and more upset. they're well into the night when jaskier makes a joke at some point she explodes and throws a book and yells and furiously stomps into the next room, slamming the door.
geralt offers to go after her and he finds her sitting on the floor. he joins her says jaskier didn't mean it. she replies "i know, it's fine." before going "well it's not fine, nothing's fine." and geralt just lets her vent, listens to her.
and when she's done she thanks him, for everything.
she realizes he's sitting so close and she's just looking into his warm golden eyes and she thinks, what the hell? what does she have to lose....
so she starts leaning closer and she sees his eyes flick to her lips. she swallows hard, closes her eyes and oh so softly her mouth touches his.
and then suddenly there's wind spinning around them, the window breaks and the light flickers on and off.
geralt pulls back and is like, "did that just happen?"
and of course triss and jaskier barge in and go "WHAT DID YOU DO???"
geralt and yennefer just laugh, looking at each other
and jaskier is like "oh my god you totally kissed. I WAS RIGHT"
fade to black....
jaskier [off] "i was totally right. come on just admit it"
hello my dear!! 28. neck kisses or 38. relieved kisses for the prompts?? 💜
hello my love! first let me say that I am so sorry that this took so long and as an apology I humbly offer what was going to be a short geraskefer fluff peace but turned into a 1.5k of geraskefer angsty mess with a little bit of fluff - I hope you enjoy!! 💕
cw: injury, blood, implied torture
38. relieved kisses
She was up as soon as she heard the sound of hooves echoing in the courtyard.
She had been sat in the same spot for almost a week now, ever since Geralt had left. She had barely moved, sat at the window, staring out desperately waiting his return.
And now he had returned.
She could feel the warmth of the fire behind her as she made her way across towards the door, feeling colder and colder with every step. She was still weak, although the past few weeks had aided her recovery but she was still weak, and even something so simple as walking still troubled her. The snow outside was falling fast, and she knew the wind she could hear howling outside was biting cold, but it wasn’t that which chilled her.
It was the thought of what she might see when she stepped outside the door.
They might have both returned, safe and unharmed, the rumours nothing but rumours and they would all once be reunited. In that case, Yennefer could be happy, she would see them both and she would be able to breathe again and at the sight of them perhaps finally the unsettled feeling that had been turning her stomach for weeks would stop and she would be able to rest.
Or, she wouldn't.
Perhaps the rumours had been true, that he had been taken, interrogated, tortured, put through every pain imaginable as they did their best to break him. She wonders if he would have broken, how long it might have taken. He is not built for that world, that hurt. He has seen violence, yes, but she knows he has seen nothing like that, let alone had to suffer through it.
Her heart sinks as she thinks about walking out that door and seeing that Geralt has returned alone, that he had not managed to find him, or perhaps worse.
That he had been too late.
It had been a whirlwhind, quite literally, the two of them crashing into her life, but she knows it was a moment in which her world changed once again.
The three of them had settled into something, none of them truly being able to describe or explain it, but it had just felt right.
It all feels so far away now, the days spent laughing, the nights they spent tangled in the sheets. They had managed to avoid catastrophe on the mountain, the three of them managing to calm themselves before the heightened emotions turned their harsh words into something they would forever regret.
But then she had been summoned away to the Chapter, Geralt had fled to Cintra, had decided to stop fighting destiny and went to claim his Child Surprise, and Jaskier had stayed somewhere in between, awaiting their return.
And then there was Sodden.
They had received word of what happened in Cintra, and Yennefer barely had time to hope that Geralt had managed to reach the girl in time and Jaskier had managed to get himself somewhere safe before she was faced with her own battle.
It is something of a blur to her now, the fire and the shouts and screams, and then the deafening quiet as she stumbled across the wasteland. She can’t remember how far and how long she walked, walking until she couldn’t anymore. She isn’t sure how Geralt managed to find her, but one moment she was sat alone on the cold, hard ground and the next she was swept up in his arms. She would have cried, if there had been anything left inside her. Instead, all she could do was sit and cling to him, catching sight of the girl over his shoulder, staring at them with wide eyes, and she could feel the world shift around them, as if everything had started to fall into place, pieces of something coming together.
The journey to Kaer Morhen had been hard. It had been a long time since Yennefer had travelled without portals, and she forgot exactly how harsh the path could be. It was hard at first, the two of them and Ciri, knowing that they needed to help her but having no idea how, and there were many tears and fights, but with time they made it work and by the time they arrived at the dusty old keep they were almost a family.
But not yet.
There was something, or rather someone missing, and they knew they needed him here.
They had heard whispers on their journey, about how Nilfgaard were searching for the White Wolf’s barker, that if anyone knew anything about his whereabouts it would be his closest friends. They had done their best to ignore the whispers, both of them intently focused on getting Ciri safe, but they were barely through the large gate when Geralt had packed up Roach, ready to head right back down.
“I have to find him, Yen,” he had said. “I have to know he’s okay.”
And she had wanted to argue with him, wanted to beg him to stay with her, with Ciri, but she knew he had to go. She would have gone herself if her chaos had not abandoned her. And so she watched as he set off, some weeks ago now, and had waited every day for him to return.
And now he was back.
And she was scared of what she might discover.
A hand slips into hers, and a gentle tug on her arm snaps her out of her revive. She looked down to see Ciri staring up at her with wide eyes. The trace of fear she can see in those blue eyes is enough to start something within her again. If she cannot be brave for herself, she can be brave for Ciri.
They step out into the biting wind, and Yennefer almost sags in relief at the sight. Geralt is there, astride Roach, and in front of him on the saddle she can see a familiar mop of brown hair wrapped tightly in blankets.
The weight that has been pushing down on her shoulders is suddenly lifted, she can finally breathe once again, the challenge ahead suddenly seems a little easier to bear now that they are all together again.
But as she gets closer, her heart begins to sink again. Jaskier is quieter than she was expecting him to be, there are no cheers or lewd jokes, he is not singing, and a quick glance shows no sign of his lute.
And as he is lifted from Roach into Eskels waiting arms, the blankets shift and she properly sees him and she cannot stop the gasp that escapes her.
If she didn’t know it in her heart, if it hadn’t been the fact he was held in Geralt’s arms, she would have had no clue it was him.
His face is black blue, and every inch of skin that she can see seems to be covered in bruises and blood. His hands are wrapped in bandages, the remnants of one of Geralt’s old shirts, and his fingers appear to be splinted. There is no doubt more beneath the many layers of clothes, his face pinched in pain even now in sleep.
He is back in Geralt’s arms, looking so small cradled in the Witcher’s hold, and the furrow of Geralt’s brow confirming that there are more injuries to be dealt with, and many beyond the physical. Gods know what he has been through, how long they had him, but that is something to worry about later. All she can focus on now is the overwhelming relief that he is here.
She steps towards them, and reaches a trembling hand up to run it through his hair, across his cheek, ignoring how cold he is, how wrong it is.
His eyes flutter open at the contact and he blinks slowly, as though in a daze, before they settle on her. He cracks a small smile, splitting a wound on his lip open. His eyes are glazed, from fever or pain she doesn’t know, but they seem brighter than she has ever known them.
“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he says, his voice is rough and hoarse, a far cry from its usual music, and still it is one of the most beautiful things she has ever heard.
She lets out a noise, a laugh and a sob rolled into one, and she leans in presses her lips to his. It is only a quick kiss, as he is already slipping back into sleep, but in it she can feel his relief, and hopes he can feel hers.
The next few days will be hard, for all of them, but right now none of that matters.
I was tagged by the wonderful @wanderlust-t to share 7 sentences of one or more WIPs - thank you darling 💛 - so here you go!
The Witcher has stopped the motions of whetting his sword and stares as though he doesn’t quite believe his eyes don’t deceive him. Jaskier swallows and Geralt mirrors him before lowering the sword as if in a daze. He gets up but doesn’t come closer, and Jaskier sees a tension in his shoulders that shouldn’t be there, itches to reach out and fix this.
Neither of them says a word for a moment or two, and then Geralt exhales and rushes forward in quick strides until there is not an inch of space between them. Hands come up to Jaskier’s cheeks and he feels that fear leaving his body, replaced by the warmth of Geralt’s hands.
“Jaskier,” he breathes, still dazed, his eyes flitting over his face as if looking to make sure he is more than one last hopeful illusion before battle.
“I couldn’t leave you, my love,” Jaskier explains and leans forward, his forehead resting against Geralt’s where it belongs.
Tagging, without any pressure whatsoever, @kingeomer @dapandapod @borealwrites @jaskie @deeplywornletters @damatris @goldbvtton and whoever feels encouraged to share some sentences 💛
F: Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.
“Best take care, witcher,” Jaskier teases softly, “a man could get used to such treatment.”
“Don’t,” Geralt grunts, but there’s no heat to it. He thoroughly inspects Jaskier’s neck, tilting his head one way then the other with two light fingers on his jaw. “Pain anywhere?”
“No pain.”
“Good.” Apparently satisfied, Geralt stands, undressing methodically and lying in his own bedroll. After a few moments of silence, he adds, “Wake me if anything hurts. Or if you have trouble breathing.”
Jaskier huffs a laugh, turning on his side to fix his companion with a rueful smile. “Geralt, have you ever known me to suffer in silence?”
ahahah turns out I hate all the dialogue I’ve ever written!!!! It look me forever to find something for this one lol. I like this little passage from another taste of heavenly rush all right, though; I like the gentle teasing from Jaskier and the gruff tenderness from Geralt.
K: What’s the angstiest idea you’ve ever come up with?
So most of my angsty thoughts are about Renfri, but honestly none of them quite compete with the angsty hell that is canon. I can’t out-angst that, that wistful look in her eyes while Geralt has a sword to her throat.
(aaaaand cw trans angst/social and medical discrimination/dysphoria) The rest of my angst primarily consists of angsty trans Geralt thoughts. I love modern AU trans Geralt fics, don’t get me wrong, but I really, really, really love the idea of trans Geralt within the canon setting. Geralt had gone through the trials and their accompanying hormones before he hit puberty, so few people realize he’s trans; even fewer know about the extra trials he was forced to endure because they realized they had a new body type to experiment on. So many things—the way he actively others himself to keep from getting close to anyone, the way others openly sexualize him without ever humanizing him to the point that when someone shows attraction he assumes they just want to fuck a freak of nature (see A Little Sacrifice which breaks me in half over and over again every time I think about it), his survival relying on his social awareness and ability to codeswitch on the head of a pin based on his interactions with the people around him (especially in the books and games), the forced sterility but finding himself a father anyway...I don’t know. Absolutely everything about Geralt as a trans man resonates with me endlessly.
S: Any fandom tropes you can’t resist?
I mean, I’ll never turn down a good only-one-bed fic. I’m not physically capable of it.
It is very much not Wendesday and I was tagged a while ago but I’m finally doing this! Many thanks to the lovely @wanderlust-t for tagging me <333
Rules: post a snippet of whatever you’re currently working on, no more than 300 words, and tag five other writers.
It happened, as so many earth-shattering revelations did, when Jaskier was in the middle of telling a stupid story.
This particular story was one of his best: a tale of a misadventure from his university days which involved a sack of potatoes, a badminton racket, and an extremely disgruntled duck. Jaskier had just got to the most ridiculous part and was putting his whole heart into the performance, gesturing enthusiastically and even going so far as to act out the scene with a pinecone standing in for the duck. He did a dramatic version of the professor’s shocked screeching, of his own horrified delight, and then—
And then Geralt laughed.
Geralt laughed, long and loud and happy, and it was the most beautiful thing Jaskier had ever heard. Nothing he would ever compose could compare to this moment, to the unhidden happiness on Geralt’s face and the sound of his voice. Geralt was laughing. Jaskier had made him laugh. Before the moment was even over, Jaskier knew that he would do anything to hear that sound again.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered under his breath, abandoning the story for the moment, and Geralt must have somehow heard him because the expression on his face, startled and almost awed, was even more gorgeous than before.
Oh. Oh, shit. Jaskier was in love.
Jaskier was in love with a ghost.
Well. That was awkward. That could very easily become a problem, or at least a good way to break his own heart.
Jaskier thought he might be all right with getting his heart broken, though, if the reason for it was so very beautiful.
Tagging @seidenbros @karolincki @ghostinthelibrarywrites @penandinkprincess @yellow-feathered-faerie and anyone else who wants to give it a go! <3
