AO3 MASTERLIST - THE WITCHER
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Requests are open for any of the pairings listed below, in any combination. I also write NSFW. Here’s my Tumblr Request Masterlist.
Geralt/Jaskier (Geraskier)
Jaskier had heard the rumours about shapeshifting witchers, but the bard had always dismissed them as old wives’ tales. They were the kind of stories mothers told their children to stop them from wandering into the woods on their own after sundown. Shapeshifters did not exist, plain and simple. Jaskier was above such superstitions.
Eskel Gen
Some days, Eskel needs to be reminded how much people care about him. His family has no problem doing that.
A collection of very short fluff snapshots dedicated to Eskel getting the love and affection he deserves.
(Tags to be added as chapters are posted.)
Geralt/Jaskier (Geraskier)
On one of their travels, Geralt and Jaskier find an abandoned child.
Jaskier takes it upon himself to find her a loving home. It sounds simple enough, right?
Geralt should have known that things are never as simple as they seem, especially where Jaskier is involved.
Eskel/Jaskier (Jaskel)
Jaskier is on the run from Dijkstra’s men, and he only has one goal in mind - get himself and his daughter Erica to safety.
There’s no safer place on the Continent than Kaer Morhen, home to the wolf witchers. Jaskier knows they’ll be safe there. The only problem? Jaskier and Geralt haven’t spoken since the incident on the mountain, and Jaskier doesn’t know if he’ll be welcome at the witchers’ keep.
In comes Eskel, who accepts to help Jaskier and Erica get to safety. In Jaskier’s eyes, it’s a foolproof plan. What could possibly go wrong?
Gen (Eskel & Geralt, Eskel & Lambert, Eskel & Vesemir)
His stomach makes itself known when Eskel catches a whiff of roast chicken as one of the guests steps outside with their plate of food. Eskel is quick to cover his middle with his hand, as if the action alone could muffle his body’s natural response to hunger. Eskel can’t remember the last time he ate.
Eskel could certainly do with losing a couple of pounds anyway.
Aiden/Eskel/Geralt/Lambert
“I want you to teach me how to paint my face.”
Eskel looks up from his book, raising an eyebrow at Lambert’s sudden request. He’s barely seen the youngest witcher these past few days, almost as if Lambert has actively been avoiding him all this time. Eskel notices the constipated look on Lambert’s face, the one he usually gets when he needs something, but doesn’t want or doesn’t know how to ask for it.
“Good morning, Lambert,” Eskel counters sarcastically, returning his attention to the bestiary in his lap, “I’m doing well, thanks. What about you?”
Multi Pairing
A collection of twelve tumblr prompts, all about kissing.
Geralt/Jaskier (Geraskier)
“She’s… Jaskier, she’s not ready,” Geralt tells him, his tone heavy with all the emotions he will never bring himself to speak out loud, “she’s not ready. I feel like I failed her.”
“Failed her? Whatever do you mean, dear heart?”
Geralt meets Jaskier’s eyes and what the bard sees reflected in those amber orbs - the genuine concern, the guilt, the raw vulnerability - tugs at Jaskier’s heartstrings.
Geralt rode the elevator to the third floor, his gun securely nestled in the holster hanging at his hip and concealed by Geralt’s leather jacket. When he stepped out of the elevator, he noticed that the hallway was empty. Good. Geralt hated loose ends. They kept him awake at night and titillated the dark voices in his head urging him to track, to silence, to kill.
OR the Assassin AU nobody asked for.
Jaskier was, by no stretch of the imagination, inexperienced in bed. He had used ropes on lovers before, loving the way it had left them defenceless against his loving onslaught of their bodies. Jaskier had enjoyed pulling desperate moans from his lovers as he worshipped their bodies and made them reach new heights they had never known before. Jaskier had, however, never been the one to completely give up control. Nonetheless, Jaskier was nothing if eager to experiment in bed.
OR Geralt saves Jaskier from yet another pickle. Feelings ensue.
Jaskier remembered a time when he was but a carefree young lad running barefoot on his family’s large estate, chasing butterflies and singing at his heart’s delight in between history and algebra lessons. He remembered his mother, a soft and loving woman, tell him that good things always happen to those who wait. However, the cherished memory of her wise words left a bitter taste in Jaskier’s mouth. He had waited long enough – two decades, to be precise, and nothing good had come of it.
... and one time he became the comforter.
Without Your Kisses (I’ll Be Needing Stitches) (Geralt/Jaskier)
It was probably what most people would call a peaceful evening. The sun was slowly setting behind the hills, basking their surroundings in warm hues of orange and red, giving way to an inky purple, cloudless sky. The first stars appeared on the canopy above just as the hot summer air progressively cooled with the impending evening. There was no noise, no disruption, nothing that would otherwise indicate that something was just about to disturb the peaceful silence that had settled over the Gwenllech valley.
Eskel/Jaskier (Jaskel)
The two lay for a while in peaceful silence before Eskel’s baritone voice was heard again.
“I think I want to talk about my nightmare. I think it would help. Not only me, but it would also help you understand some… things about me.”
“Oh Eskel,” Jaskier placed a single kiss on the witcher’s collarbone, “I am all ears, my heart.”
“Alright.” Eskel took a composing breath and pulled Jaskier closer with his free arm as if drawing strength from his bard.
OR Eskel has a nightmare and Jaskier is there to help him through it.
Witchersexual Jaskier (Jaskier/Wolf Pack)
Geralt allows Jaskier to sleep with Eskel and Lambert on occasion, but at the end of the day Jaskier always comes back to Geralt.
OR Gratuitous polyamorous smut with a healthy dose of Geraskier feels.
Geralt/Eskel (Gereskel)
Geralt knew something was wrong when Eskel did not show up in Ard Carraigh. Eskel was never late. On the rare occasions that Eskel was held up somewhere, he would send a note to let Geralt know he would be late. After spending all morning asking around in various inns and smaller taverns, nobody had seen another witcher or received a note addressed to Geralt. Eskel was not here, and he had not given any indication of his whereabouts, so Geralt had every right to be worried.
OR Eskel is in trouble and Geralt saves the day.
“I told you, I’m not going.”
“Well that just won’t do.” Jaskier empties the contents of Geralt’s bottle down the sink. “I already told him that you agreed to meet him. Today, at 2pm for a coffee.”
“You what ?” Why does shit like this only ever happen to Geralt? Why him? Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose, biting back the irritated groan that threatened to push past his lips. “Jaskier, why would you tell him that without, oh I don’t know, consulting me first ?”
“Because I knew you’d say no,” Jaskier’s tone is matter-of-fact, like he’s discussing the weather, “and it took me exactly three months to convince Eskel to agree to this blind date, and I will not have three months of my life go to waste just because you’re a cantankerous bastard who refuses to try out new things.”
“Master druid!” a small man Eskel instantly recognised as Bartek, a local farmer who lives not far from Eskel’s home, called out to him. “Master druid, please !”
“Well met, Bartek! How can I help you, my good man ?”
“There’s… a witcher, sir. He’s… hurt,” Bartek managed to pant out between laboured breaths, “he’s dying, me thinks. He needs urgent care.”
“Guide me to him."Eskel wasn’t planning on taking a detour. It was dark already and it was dangerous for anyone to be seen travelling in these times of war. But healing people was Eskel’s profession and his duty. He would be damned if he let anyone die on his watch without at least trying his very best to heal them first.
Geralt is a man of many mysteries. Very few people on the Continent can claim to truly know him, not that there’s been any shortage of people who firmly believe this to be the case. Eskel knows better, though, and while he thinks very fondly of some of Geralt’s friends (and not so fondly of others), none of them can even begin to compete with him on the topic of Geralt.
Yet, for all of Eskel’s intrinsic knowledge about Geralt, even he can’t wrap his head around why the White Wolf is currently sitting in front of the fire knitting socks, of all things!
Eskel/Lambert (Lambskel)
Mine (Eskel/Lambert, NSFW)
“I need to feel it on me,” Lambert murmured self-consciously, making Eskel stop his tender petting, “please.”
“Lambert… are you sure?” Lambert took a deep breath, his eyes squeezing shut as he willed the fresh tears away. It was the only thing that could help him now, Lambert was sure of this. He needed it to feel calmer, to clear his head, to not be in control of his own thoughts.
OR Lambert has a nightmare, and Eskel is there to reassure him.
Lambert had never known Eskel to be a jealous man. That was until he found himself pinned against the wall outside his bedroom, stuck between the cold wall and a very hard witcher.
“You smell of him again,” Eskel growled from deep within his chest, sending a shiver running down the length of Lambert’s spine, “of that damn Cat.”
“Aiden and I are just friends,” Lambert gritted through clenched teeth, but the bulge in his trousers betrayed just how aroused he felt at Eskel’s possessive display.
A commotion interrupted their quiet dinner that evening. The doors to the dining hall flung open and revealed Vesemir dragging in one of the boys by the scruff of his neck. Aubry chortled at the sight.
While most other boys and witchers in the dining hall returned their attention to their meal, Eskel and Geralt observed Lambert struggling against Vesemir’s grip. The boy was digging his feet in the ground, slapping at Vesemir’s arm, biting the older witcher, calling him a ‘cocksucking monsterfucker’, a ‘smelly cunt’ and, to Geralt’s hilarity, ‘uglier than a nekker’s wrinkly ballsack’.
It’s a secret he’s never brought himself to share with anyone. It’s a part of himself he keeps carefully hidden, an aspect of his personality he only started exploring really late in his long life. The first time he dabbled was in Novigrad.
His family can never find out.
Eskel/Geralt/Lambert
He took another drink from his moonshine. Half of it dribbled down his chin. Lambert wiped it with the back of his sleeve.
Nobody would care if he died, anyway. Vesemir hated him. Eskel and Geralt had each other, childhood friends who had been through every kind of hardship together. Lambert had just tagged along after a while, but he had never really been theirs and they had never been his either. He was just the third wheel who occasionally joined in on the fun, nothing more. It wasn’t like Geralt and Eskel felt anything more for him than lust. They loved him, sure, but not like that. Why would they? Lambert was a mess.
OR Lambert is not okay after Aiden’s death. Eskel and Geralt are there to pick him up.
Geralt both hates and loves winters at Kaer Morhen, but in recent years, the pain in his knee has only gotten worse, which seriously dampens his mood and makes winters more and more unbearable as the years go on. Sometimes, Geralt considers wintering in Corvo Bianco, or even in the City of Golden Towers with Ciri in the Emperor’s palace, where the milder winters would be kinder on his injured knee. But his family is up in the North, and Geralt will endure a few months of physical discomfort if it means spending time with his lovers and Vesemir.
“C’mon big guy, you need to work with us here.”
“I’m not leaving this room until Yen’s found a cure,” Eskel maintained stubbornly.
“She said it could take her a week! You need to eat. You need to have a bath, I can smell you from here.”
Eskel didn’t dignify that last comment with an answer. He knew all Lambert was trying to do was press the right buttons to get Eskel to rise to the bait. No. Eskel plainly refused to leave his room until they figured out how to fix his eyes. He was blind, the Goddess be damned, and the only thing more useless than a blind witcher was - well, Eskel couldn’t come up with a worthy comparison.
Eskel responded… oddly to the mutagens. He was probably one of the first recruits in history to report these unusual side effects after surviving the Trials. Vesemir is convinced that this statistic would have risen if more boys had survived the Grasses, but they had buried far too many over the years. They had almost buried Eskel too, but the pup was a hardy one, and nothing short of stubbornly determined to live. And live he did, even though the mutagens gave him a special ability none of the other boys possessed.
A few months after the trials, the mages discovered that Eskel could shapeshift into a wolf.
Lambert/Aiden (Lambden)
(A Guide By An Emotionally Competent Witcher)
In which Lambert struggles to voice his emotions and Aiden teaches him that there are many different ways to communicate with one another.
“The navy blue one,” Lambert suggests, praying to God that Aiden tried a navy blue suit at some point.
“Because grey washes me out, doesn’t it?”
“No,” Lambert is quick to correct his mistake, forcing himself to soften his tone, “no, babe, you really can’t go wrong here. Everything you try on fits you to perfection.”
Aiden grins at those words, his cheeks flushing red as he basks in Lambert’s compliment. God, how did Lambert get so lucky? Yes, shopping with Aiden was a nightmare under normal circumstances and literal hell on earth when shopping for their upcoming wedding, but other than that Aiden is the best thing that happened to Lambert since… well, since nothing.
“Since you’re sticking around, might as well give ya a name. How about Whiskers? Felix? Pain-In-The-Ass, the First of his name?”
The feline nuzzled at the snarling cat medallion again, mewling and staring at Lambert with wide, intelligent eyes, ears flattened and pointing out to the side. Lambert glanced down at the medallion, bringing his hand up to it again and twirling it between his fingers. Another mewl brought his attention back to the mountain lion.
Today is the day. Lambert knows he should feel more excited at the thought of his boyfriend returning home, to the safety of Lambert’s embrace, but he can’t help the anxiety building inside him and twisting his stomach in a way he doesn’t care for in the least.
Lambert knows that he should be excited, but the sentiment is tarnished by his crippling anxiety, and he feels like the worst boyfriend in the world.
Two weeks since Lambert left Aiden. No, correction. Two weeks since Aiden let Lambert walk away from him without putting up much of a fight at all. Two weeks since Aiden realised that Lambert was too much work, too high maintenance, too broken to be deserving of Aiden’s time.
Lambert fucking missed the bastard, too.
Letho/Coën
The instructors at Gorthur Gvaed may have been cold and ruthless, but they were right about one thing. Personal relationships simply aren’t worth the pain they bring. They’re distracting. They’re superfluous. They’re unnecessary.
Letho used to believe that, too. At least, he did before he met Coën.
Master Ivar would turn in his grave if he could see Letho now.
Vesemir Gen
Vesemir isn’t cut out to be a father, but because Destiny is a bitch, he is now responsible for four very traumatised, very scared, very helpless kids. The legacy of wolf witchers rests entirely on Vesemir’s shoulders now. He needs to make sure these kids grow into strong, capable witchers. They might think that the hardest part about becoming a witcher is to survive the trials, but it is Vesemir’s duty to teach them that there is so much worse to come.
As it turns out, and as Vesemir would find out over the coming years, being a parent is a thankless job, but apparently, it is also the most rewarding job in the world.