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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

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Prompt idea: Geralt gets a contract for a monster that has been sighted nearby. When he tracks it down, he is surprised to find mothman!Jaskier who (much like actual mothman) has an ass that won’t quit.

I just want you to know that Mothskier now lives in my head rent free 24/7. I love him. I would die for him. This is my new favorite emotional support au.

2k-ish words - please feel free to shove comments through the bars of my enclosure, I would really like that

art by the ever-wonderful @mawbwehownets, whose drawing of Mothskier made me legit cry.

tw: mild injury, brief blood mention, strangers to lovers

---

“So what you’re saying,” Geralt raises an eyebrow slowly, curious, “Is that you need me to catch a monster that’s half man and half moth?”

“Yup.”

“Alright,” Geralt pinches the bridge of his nose with his thumb and pointer finger. The frustrated Witcher takes a slow breath to calm and center himself, before he ends up botching the entire contract-writing process. Humans tend to grow attached to the strangest monsters sometimes, and apparently this mysterious local being was no different. “Let me get this totally straight, so there are no mistakes or misunderstandings. You want me to capture this man-moth and get it out of your woods, but you don’t want me to kill it?”

“He’s called the Mothman, and he’s pretty damn stubborn about sticking around,” the aging farmer corrects Geralt with a little frown. Then his expression shifts and he smiles in a way that seems almost apologetic. “We were hoping you could find a way to relocate him without hurting or killing him, Master Witcher.”

“That’s completely possible, if he isn’t attached to this specific patch trees by any magical or biological means. You said his natural habitat is just… the forest?”

“As long as there's an abundance of pine around he seems pretty happy. Before he came to live with us, Mothman lived in a heavily forested area up the coast; or at least that’s what the historical records and local mythology seem to indicate.”

“That’s actually pretty helpful information to have on hand, I’m impressed,” Geralt nods. “Alright, Mr. Stevens. I promise to relocate the poor thing without killing or maiming him, and I’ll be sure to take him somewhere far enough away that your crops won’t be in danger. Thanks for calling me first instead of just going straight to an extermination service.”

“Honestly, Master Witcher,” the farmer sighs and readjusts his dirty baseball hat, “If it weren’t for the mischief he’s been getting into lately, we would have let him stick around until spring. I hate to admit it to a man as strong and stern-faced as yourself, but the poor creature is almost… adorable at times.”

“Well that’s a first,” Geralt chuckles, honestly amused by the situation he’s found himself in. “A monster being referred to as ‘adorable’ rather than ‘terrifying’. I’ve never heard such a thing in my many years of life.”

“Then you’d better prepare yourself, Sir Geralt. He’s got a pair of big blue puppy-dog eyes that’ll knock you on your ass if you aren’t careful. And that’s coming from a man who raised three daughters with dimples.”

“Hmm. Fuck.”

---

Geralt knows enough about moths to come up with a plan he thinks will work.

Before he heads into the woods to find and capture the poor wandering creature, the Witcher takes a detour through the lighting section of the nearest Lowe’s.

---

Unfortunately for Geralt, the farmer was right about the power of Mothman’s puppy dog eyes, which are big and blue and begin to water as soon as the Witcher’s net knocks him to the ground. The creature lies in a whimpering tangle of limbs beneath the heavy, magically enhanced restraints. Geralt takes an opportunity to look at what the locals called "a cryptid".

Mothman has a long, lithe body that's covered in a light layer of grey-brown fur, but his hair resembles that of a human’s, falling over those enormous blue eyes in a lovely chestnut fringe. When Mothman sees the swords on Geralt’s back he cries out in panicked recognition and tries to pull his arms up far enough to shield his face. The lamp Geralt used to lure him into the clearing is still bathing him in a pool of yellow light; it’s almost pretty for a monster, Geralt notes.

As the Witcher takes a step forward, the cryptid squeaks and buries his face against his own shoulder. His entire frame is trembling.

“Hey there, shhhhh,” the Witcher murmurs quietly. He drops into a squat and holds both hands up to show Mothman that they’re weapon free. Tears are now falling freely down the creature’s surprisingly human face; whoever or whatever this is, they are likely some kind of Fae. “I’m not here to hurt you, I just want to get you back through the veil.”

“Liar,” Mothman huffs. His voice has a surprisingly musical quality to it and Geralt is now sure of his Fae parentage (or grand-parentage).

“I promise I’m not lying,” Geralt reassures him, slowly crawling forward. When he reaches for the nearest corner of the net, he feels all of Mothman’s muscles go tense. “I’m going to lift this up and I am going to restrain you, but I swear that I’m not going to kill you. I wish to cause as little distress as possible. Is that alright, Mothman?”

The creature hisses and yanks his foot back away from where Geralt’s hand had nearly touched it. “Jaskier.”

“Hmm?” Geralt glances up, raising an eyebrow.

“My name is Jaskier,” the Fae repeats, glaring up from between the sections of woven rope that make up the heavy net. “Not Mothman.”

“My apologies, Jaskier,” Geralt bows his head. He words his introduction carefully, in case this thing can manipulate his name like others of his kind: “You may refer to me as Geralt.”

“That’s your real name,” Jaskier states. The Witcher’s head snaps up.

“How did you know?”

“Hmm,” Jaskier sticks his tongue out as he mimics the sound Geralt made earlier. “Not telli-AH! Stop! Oh go- gods, stop! Please!”

Geralt drops the short section of rope he’s trying untangle from around Jaskier’s ankle and snaps his eyes upwards, already searching for damage. “What’s wrong!?”

“My wing!” Jaskier bawls. His scent spikes out through the clearing, sharp with panic and pain. The creature’s chest begins to shake more violently than before, his shoulders shuddering with the rising force of his sobs, “It’s t-t-torn! Oh gods, my wing! Sir Witcher, p-please!”

Geralt freezes, his gaze settling on the torn section of Jaskier’s large, furry wing. It’s a nasty wound near one of the joints, a faint trickle of barely-luminescent blood has already dried around the edges. Jaskier tries to flutter it a little and screams in agony when the muscles shift too suddenly, shrilly enough that Geralt needs to cover his hypersensitive ears. The Witcher's heart crashes down into his boots; based on the way the shivering Fae has gone pale and silent, the pain is too much for him to process. He’s gone into shock.

A torn wing is exactly the kind of thing Geralt had promised the farmer (and the collective of townspeople he represented) wouldn’t happen to the peaceful moth creature if they hired a Witcher instead of an exterminator. He sighs and gives the strange being another once-over. “Everything's alright, Jaskier. You’re going to be alright. I’m so, so sorry that you've been wounded. We’ll get you out of this net and get you something for the pain, but it’s going to hurt a little to untangle you. Stay still, don’t struggle, and it’ll be over soon.”

“J-Just kill me,” Jaskier pants. He’s continuing to hyperventilate and Geralt needs him to calm down before he passes out. The Fae reaches a hand for the dagger at Geralt's waist and the Witcher twists out of reach with a frown. Jaskier sobs again, fingers still seeking, “I might n-n-never fly a-again so just k-kill me!”

“Breathe with me, Jaskier,” the Witcher instructs, forgoing patience and cutting through the net with that same dagger. He scoops Jaskier up into his arms, ignoring the keening sound at the back of Jaskier’s throat when his wing is jostled, and rushes the Fae to his truck, tucking him into the passenger’s seat and wrapping him in a large, fluffy blanket. “I’m taking you to my friend. She’s an expert at healing magical creatures and I'm certain that she'll get your wing fixed in no time.”

Jaskier doesn’t give an answer. When Geralt looks up into the creature’s face again, the injured Fae has already passed out.

---

Jaskier moves with all the grace of a newborn foal as he explores the room Geralt has provided for him. His wing has been inspected, treated, and bandaged by a rather scary sorceress named Yennefer, who glared at the Witcher the entire time she was caring for him. She had also taken one of Geralt’s old t-shirts and cut an enormous hole in the back for Jaskier’s wings to fit through. The shirt’s bottom hem falls to the middle of his thighs and the thick black material is softer than anything he’d ever felt before.

He hears a knock on the door and calls out, “It’s open!”

Geralt enters slowly, bearing a pair of pajama bottoms and a mug of tea. “I brought you some last minute supplies and - uh… I brought you some tea. Yen always likes some before she goes to sleep and I figured since this was a new place and new places can be scary that I should-”

“Thank you,” Jaskier interrupts, smiling shyly. His antennae twitch happily as he takes the offerings from Geralt's hands and the Witcher watches them with wide eyes. Jaskier carefully sets the pajamas and the tea on the nightstand before turning back to look at Geralt. “I will… see you tomorrow?”

Geralt gives one sharp nod. “Hmm.”

“Goodnight,” Jaskier sing-songs, taking a seat on the edge of the bed as Geralt exits.

From the other side of the closed door, Jaskier’s superior hearing picks up the Witcher’s final whisper: “Goodnight, Jaskier. I will always be sorry for causing you pain.”

The next morning he meets Geralt at the breakfast table, refreshed and ready to learn about the human world. He’s summoned a glamour in order to hide his more Moth-like traits, the only things that remain of his true nature are his wings and antennae; his fur is gone and he’s dressed in a pair of sweatpants and that same old shirt. The Witcher offers him a bowl of fruit and mug of something sweet-smelling. Jaskier glares into the mug with a slight pout to his lips before finally asking, “What is this?”

“Hot chocolate.”

Jaskier takes a sip and his antennae flutter, twitching happily as he swallows the best drink he’s ever had in his long life. He eats a strawberry from the bowl and slowly works his way through the hot chocolate, eyeing Geralt warily as the Witcher moves through the familiar kitchen to make his own breakfast.

“Where is Yennefer?”

“She went home,” Geralt shrugs.

“She isn’t your mate?”

“N-No,” Geralt sputters, turning to stare at the nervous young Fae. “Why would you think that?”

“You smell like each other.”

“We spend a lot of time together,” Geralt shrugs again. “Good friends, that’s all.”

“Hmm,” Jaskier mimics his host for a second time. Rather effectively by the annoyed twitch at the corner of Geralt’s mouth. “Just wondering.”

“Anything else you’re curious about?”

“Why don’t you have more lights?”

“Huh?”

“Lights,” Jaskier gestures around the minimalistic layout of Geralt’s open-concept kitchen/living room and its distinctive lack of lamps. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans forward against the dark marble countertop. The pout has gone from 'slight' to 'full-bore' and Geralt is clinging desperately to his braincell with how cute it looks. “It’s no fun.”

“You really like lamps, don’t you?” the Witcher replies, mouth dry. Jaskier huffs and takes another sip of his hot chocolate, antennae flickering back and forth in irritation. Geralt bites his lip to hide a smile; it’s too fucking cute, which is an odd thought for a Witcher to have.

“So what if I do enjoy a nice lamp or five in my living space?” Jaskier argues. "I'm a Moth of taste."

“No matter,” Geralt laughs quietly. “Finish your drink before it gets cold.”

---

Jaskier stays with Geralt for a few weeks while his wing heals, and for a creature whose sole interest seems to be fancy light fixtures, the Fae becomes a source of light in Geralt's own world. They go to a nonhuman friendly second-hand store to find Jaskier some more clothes and Geralt discovers the cryptid's love for oddly patterned shirts in bright colors. Jaskier chooses several to fill out his closet, as well as a sweater two-sizes too large in deep black (Geralt tries his best not to attach any meaning to this choice), a few pairs of pants, and a jean jacket that he declares, "Can be altered."

They watch movies together and make food together - Jaskier is always incredibly impressed by the way the automatic coffee maker works, and how easily Geralt can control the flames of the stove. Jaskier also follows the Witcher along on less dangerous hunts and helps bandage him up after worse ones, always there with a smile and a little kiss over the cleaned-up wound.

“It really is magic,” Jaskier always insists, lips pink and shining from licking them as he concentrates. "It makes you heal faster."

Geralt realizes one night - two weeks into Jaskier’s stay, as he leans against the doorframe and watches the strange creature’s even breathing - that he has gone and done the stupidest thing a Witcher can do: fall in love with a pretty, temperamental young Fae. Head over fuckin’ heels, actually.

So he makes a decision.

---

The next evening, after the dinner dishes have been cleaned and put away, Geralt herds Jaskier down the hall to the guest room. Those entrancing blue eyes blink up at him in obvious confusion. “Bedtime already?”

“No, not quite. I just- I made you… uh…”

“Do you have a surprise for me?” Jaskier asks, used to the Witcher's issues with verbalizing.

Geralt nods, relieved and thankful for the Fae’s steadfast understanding. “Do you want to cover your eyes or should I just open the door and show you?”

“I’ll close my eyes,” Jaskier smiles, covering his eyes with both hands. Geralt finds it adorable, as Jaskier always is, and allows himself a matching grin as he swings the door open. The ceiling light is off but Geralt has built a blanket fort at the center of the room and surrounded it with fairy lights of all colors and sizes. Inside the blanket fort is a mass of blankets and pillows; Jaskier has the odd habit of building nests - Geralt jokingly calls them cocoons - and sleeping in those on the floor instead of on the very comfortable mattress the Witcher has provided.

“Open them,” Geralt urges.

Jaskier pulls his hands away and Geralt watches as his pupils go huge and wide. Jaskier's face breaks out in the sunniest, most blindingly happy smile Geralt has ever seen. He turns and throws his arms around the Witcher, his wings fluttering behind him and his antennae twitching and flicking above his head. He tries desperately to speak but only manages a half-snuffled little “I’m-” before bursting into tears of joy.

Geralt just holds him, letting his arms fold carefully around Jaskier’s waist, just beneath his wings.

"I just wanted you to know that, if you wanted to stay, there would be room for you. Your room, if you want it."

"I do," Jaskier smiles, burying his face in the Witcher's neck. "I'd love to stay. I'd love nothing more than to spend my days going on adventures with you."

"Well then," Geralt gathers all of his courage and presses a soft kiss to the crown of Jaskier's head. He's met with happy spasms from the antennae so he does it again. And again. Moving from the top of the Fae's head to his cheeks and then his mouth - pretty and pink and pouting and so worth the trouble. "I suppose we can get started on our next adventure tomorrow."

513 notes · View notes

mawbwehownets · 3 years

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I saw your Mothskier on @bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher AU and had to tell you how cute it was! He is perfect, instantly I love him 😍

AW thank you!! i had a lot of fun doodling him heehoo, i drew it while on call with bounce so i got to hear their reaction to him, it was a Fun Time

#txt #(geralt voice) fuck

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a-kind-of-merry-war · 3 years

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I just read moth in a sentence and was reminded just how much I love the Mothskier AU!

It's just *Chefs Kiss* ❣️❣️❣️

ahahah GOSH I’d sort of forgotten about Mothskier! That was so long ago 😅

For anyone who is currently going “hey uhhh what on earth are you on about”, you can find Mothskier here

#asks #the witcher #blooodymoon

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ao3feed-geralt-jaskier · 3 years

Link

by Bouncey

Geralt and Jaskier visit a Halloween attraction and Jaskier makes sure to keep Geralt safe from the underpaid teenagers who work there.

Just cute haunted house shenanigans.

Words: 873, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 4 of A Very Bouncey Halloween

Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV)

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion

Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion

Additional Tags: Fluff, Halloween, Haunted Houses, Modern Era, Part-Fae Jaskier | Dandelion, Mothskier, Established Relationship, Date Night

#ao3feed #fanfic #the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt z rivii

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major-trouble · 1 year

Text

I posted 5,420 times in 2022

105 posts created (2%)

5,315 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@jayofolympus

@tales-of-the-short-tailed

@dibellanyx

@stinastar

@ruffboijuliaburnsides

I tagged 1,533 of my posts in 2022

#laugh rule - 222 posts

#the witcher - 103 posts

#about me - 66 posts

#jaskier - 45 posts

#art - 42 posts

#fic rec - 36 posts

#fuckin art man - 30 posts

#geralt - 28 posts

#amazing - 25 posts

#same - 23 posts

Longest Tag: 131 characters

#but it is the absolute best carrot you have ever eaten in your entire life and can instantly bring you back from the brink of death

My Top Posts in 2022:

you said it. now do ittttt

Title: Only one top catboy!

Oh. Oh no. I hope this fulfills your wishes.

Only One Top Catboy!

The apron strings were digging into his waist. The skirt barely covered the tops of his thighs, but he’d insisted on wearing opaque leggings underneath so at least he wasn’t flashing anyone everytime he bent over.

He smirked. Not that anyone in the cafe would mind.

The owner had presented him with a pair of ridiculous, huge, fuzzy cat ears at the beginning of his shift. He’d baulked at first, but the softness of the fur brushing against the top of his bald head actually felt nice. Not that he’d tell anyone.

“Letho! Are you paying attention?” Aiden asked, setting the rest of the cups of tea and sandwiches on his tray and frowning up at him.

Letho considered for a moment before shaking his head. “Not really. You were complaining about your boyfriend’s girlfriend again and I tuned it out.”

He picked up the tray and headed back out into the cafe proper before the other man had a chance to formulate a reply. Carefully he maneuvered his way around the tables, smiling politely back at the regulars when they smiled at him. He placed the tray down on one of the round tables decked out in dark red fabric embroidered with tiny gold cats and let his face relax into a proper smile.

"Good afternoon Miss Priscilla, Miss Essi," he rumbled, setting the delicate teacups out in front of the two women. "I trust your day has been good so far?"

On his left, Priscilla laughed lightly. "It's warm and sunny, and we're finally done with uni for another year."

Essi grinned up at him. "Now that we're here it's even better."

It had been weird and not a little unnerving to have so much attention focused on him, but after six months he'd slowly gotten used to it. Now instead of being apprehensive everytime he walked in the front doors, he looked forward to it.

"I'm glad to hear it," he answered, stepping back slightly after removing the rest of the tea service and sandwiches and picking up his tray. "Is there anything else I can do to make your time at Coen's Cat Cafe more pleasant?"

Both women smiled at him, full unabashed smiles with not a hint of guile or fear.

"No no!" Essi replied. "Thank-you, Letho. You're such a gentleman."

Letho smiled back before turning and threading back between the tables, maybe wiggling his hips a little to make the tail attached to his waist twitch back and forth.

So of course he was a little jealous when Coen hired a new guy. Maybe. Just a little.

Gaetan was lithe where Letho was bulky, sleek where he was rippling, cunning where he was implacable.

Letho hated him.

"Why do you keep staring at him like you want to eat him, then?" Aiden drawled, pouring them both cups of tea after they'd finished cleaning up for the evening. It was a proprietary blend of black teas that Coen had gotten made especially for the cafe. Letho liked it because it tasted like a warm Autumn evening. Aiden liked it because the caffeine content was on par with an espresso.

"What? No I don't," he protested. Wrapping one massive hand around the steaming chipped mug, he inhaled the comforting aroma as his brows furrowed downwards, pulling at the scar between them. "He's a nuisance. He flirts too much. Talks too loud. It's like he's hiding something."

"Are you sure you don't want to eat him?" Aiden pressed. He raised one eyebrow in challenge before taking a sip of his too hot tea.

"Never even crossed my mind."

They were silent for several long minutes, each staring into their own mug before Aiden sighed.

"Are you worried he's going to take away your title of top cat boy?" he asked slyly.

Letho choked on his tea.

19 notes - Posted September 7, 2022

Titles!

Who’s Turn is it to Call OSHA?

Okay, I turned this one a little to the side. I hope you like it 💚

OSHA is a Place

Vesemir leaned back against the wall of the gym, watching his youngest son wrestle unsuccessfully with the new equipment. He took a long sip from his coffee mug and checked his watch. Nearly 6.30. Still another half an hour before their regulars started to wander in.

Cursing loud and foul enough to blister paint made him wince. It wasn't as if he hadn't warned Lambert that everything needed to be set up before his shift started. It was his own damn fault that he’d waited until the last minute.

Vesemir was certain that as the new piece of gym equipment went together, there were possibly several screws missing and some pieces that didn’t seem entirely flush in their mounts. He was contemplating what to tell Lambert when Geralt came sauntering over from the direction of the locker room, taking a swig from his own insulated mug.

They watched Lambert for several minutes as he struggled.

"Is he -?" Geralt started, gesturing with his mug.

"Yup."

"Does he know - "

"Uh-huh."

"Well okay then."

They stood together silently, brows furrowed as they both decided what to do next. It was nearly 6.55 when Eskel came to lean on the wall beside them, crossing his arms over his chest and frowning.

Something fell off the top of the cross bar and landed with a load clank on the bare concrete floor.

"Who's turn is it to call OSHA?" Vesemir asked conversationally.

As if on cue, the chime on the front door sounded and they turned in unison to watch Valdo and his clipboard enter the gym.

21 notes - Posted September 12, 2022

Hello I would like to show you the best thing ever.

Mothskier commissioned from the incredibly talented @kindcryptid for my fantastic friend @tumbleweedtech and @continentcakeshop .

I love him so much. 🥰

27 notes - Posted July 8, 2022

It's tattoo day!!!

29 notes - Posted February 25, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I would like to submit "a bird in the hand is worth a kick in the ass" as a title.

Thank you

And finally, the last title prompt!! I hope it was worth the wait 💚💚💚💚

A Bird in the Hand is Worth a Kick in the Ass

"What we have here is a situation."

"That - that's not even remotely correct."

"What would you call it then?"

"It's more akin to a disaster."

"I think you're exaggerating."

"A situation would be something easily solvable."

"You don't think this is easily solvable?"

Jaskier barely suppressed the urge to scream. "Valdo, my dearest friend." Valdo snorted. "Unless you can somehow miraculously get the king to dismiss the charges, release us from this dungeon, and give us all our clothes back, I can hardly see how this is easily solvable!"

To his credit, the other bard was quiet for nearly five seconds before speaking again.

"I. Have a plan."

"Oh my gods we're fucking doomed."

"You're such a pessimist." Valdo shifted from where he was sitting on the cold stone floor of the king's dungeon. Jaskier could barely make him out in the gloom, only the light from a couple of smoky, flickering torches set in the wall outside of their shared cell providing any light. He could hear the clank of heavy chains as Valdo moved, but he couldn't see what he was doing.

After a moment, Valdo made a triumphant little "Ah ha!" sound and a warm golden glow started emanating from the pendant still draped around his neck.

"What the fuck is that?" Jaskier blurted, leaning forward and squinting to get a better view. The chains binding him to the wall behind him prevented his moving closer to make out much more than the fuzzy outline of the small pendant. But it was definitely glowing, that much he could tell for sure.

Before Valdo had a chance to answer, there was a bright flash of light and a loud popping sound that made both of them flinch and Jaskier cry out in alarm.

Into the silence that followed, a familiar voice said, "What the fuck did you do to get yourselves thrown into a dungeon? And why are you both naked?"

"Lambert!" Valdo exclaimed cheerfully. "So good to see you! Don't suppose you could do anything about our current incarceration?" He turned to grin smugly at Jaskier. "I told you I had a plan."

The Witcher - who had definitely not been there a moment ago and was standing on the other side of the bars, outside of their shared cell - eyed them speculatively. Or so Jaskier surmised, he still couldn't see much.

Before Lambert could answer, another voice broke in.

"What the fuck is going on here?"

All three of them turned to look towards the far end of the dungeon. Where before they'd thought the other cells were empty, now they could see the enormous outline of another person - person? it looked more like a mountain made flesh than an actual human being, Jaskier mused - was leaning against the bars.

"Arnaghad? What the fuck are you doing here?" Lambert blurted, tromping across the bare stone floor to peer in at the other Witcher.

"Trying to get some sleep, what does it look like?" Arnaghad returned sarcastically. "Are you here to rescue these two idiots from their own incompetence?"

Despite both said idiots' sudden protests, Lambert laughed.

"Something like that, yeah. You want out, too? Can't see how it's comfortable down here for you either." There was a nervous edge to his voice, like he wasn't quite sure he wanted to free the hulking Witcher.

See the full post

41 notes - Posted September 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #HELL YES #@kind cryptid #Lookit that Mothskier #Also apparently everything is funny

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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Text

Mothskier vs. the Haunted House

Welcome to the first of this year's annual "Very Bouncey Halloween" stories! At the request of my beloved @veritasrose I have written some cute Mothskier fluff!

tw: haunted house spooks (brief description of a jump scare)

---

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Geralt asks, taking Jaskier by the hand. The half-Fae’s wings flutter a little in annoyance and he glares over at his boyfriend, eyes narrowing dramatically when their gazes lock.

“This is one of the few seasonal human traditions that seems scary and fun,” he asserts. “I don’t want to miss out!”

“Alright,” the Witcher relents. “But next weekend I get to choose the date activity."

Jaskier nods his consent to this suggestion, antennae bouncing.

The Witcher smiles, presses a quick kiss to Jaskier's fluffy brown hair, and asks: "Do you have the tickets?”

“I printed them out this morning" - Jaskier offers up the folded papers - "Here.”

“Excellent."

Geralt takes the tickets from Jaskier and slips them into his hoodie pocket, keeping them clutched tight as they make their way from the parking lot to the small front gate. After a quick pause to wait in line, Geralt hands their entry passes to the bored-looking teenage attendant at the window.

“Welcome to Hawthorne’s Haunted Halloween Spooktacular,” the dark-haired boy says in a tired monotone as he fastens the day-glo orange bracelet-passes around Geralt and Jaskiers’ wrists. “Enter only if you dare, and please remember to keep your hands to yourself inside the haunted houses.”

Jaskier's mouth opens as if to question the lad and Geralt ushers him forward quickly, into the half-assed Main Square area of the Halloween attraction.

“Do I really have to keep my hands to myself?” Jaskier asks, glancing down at where Geralt’s fingers are intertwined with his own. “Because I'd much rather stick to holding your hand!”

The Witcher bites his lip to keep from chuckling; the Faerie’s naivety about human society and traditions can be ridiculously adorable sometimes. “He meant that you’re not allowed to hit or kick the actors who work here. You have to keep your hands to yourself when you're around the employees.”

“Oh. Well of course!” Jaskier practically squawks. “It would be incredibly rude to do my host an injury!”

“That's well and true for everybody, most of the time, but people often react strangely when they’re frightened.”

Jaskier squeezes Geralt’s hand in reply, his antennae flicking back and forth in the air as his eyes sweep from one haunted house to the next. “There’s so many!"

“Yeah, that’s why they’re allowed to charge us so much to get in.”

“I paid for my own ticket,” the Fae sticks his tongue out. “You could have spared yourself the fifteen bucks and stayed home for the evening with a nice book or your sword or something equally boring and lonely, you know.”

“And miss out on seeing you absolutely shit your pants when an underpaid university student jumps at you with a chainsaw?” Geralt teases, “No way!”

Jaskier yanks his hand free from Geralt’s grip and makes his way to the closest attraction, which happens to be themed after a science lab. There’s a poorly ripped-off Doc Brown painting being mostly illuminated by a dying blacklight above the words: Laboratory of Despair: Enter Only if You Dare!

“Oh my gods, that’s so corny,” Geralt hears Jaskier mutter under his breath. The Witcher chuckles out loud this time and Jaskier whips around to look at him.

“It’s a terrible sign, yeah,” Geralt nods. “Now how about we see what the lab has to offer, hmm?”

Jaskier grips at the hem of Geralt’s hoodie sleeve and nods, betraying his nerves by worrying his lip between his teeth. His false bravado and anger from before have abandoned him completely. “Okay.”

Geralt steps through the fringe of black beads that covers the door and pulls his anxious boyfriend along behind him. He can hear the way Jaskier’s wings are shivering and twitching. The slender Fae's twin antennae dance atop his head, searching for information about his surroundings without making a sound. Geralt runs his thumb in gentle circles over the back of Jaskier’s knuckles, practically smelling the relief that pours off the pretty creature as they continue into the darkness.

A few steps later, just as a light appears at the end of the tunnel, a person in a cheap rubber bug mask pops out from behind a false wall, buzzing into Geralt’s personal space. The Witcher feels himself shoved back, a slightly smaller body coming between him and the half-bored actor. Jaskier hisses assertively, his whole body tense and alert, until the teenager disappears back behind the wall to wait for his next round of hapless victims to wander past.

Geralt leans down to whisper as they continue walking, “Did you just try to protect me from a seventeen year old in a shitty costume?”

“Can’t let my mate get hurt,” Jaskier replies simply. Geralt balks a bit. Mate? Is that what we are, mates?

“I appreciate it,” Geralt praises, enjoying the way his boyfriend preens at his words. “Even though I am perfectly capable of protecting myself.”

Jaskier doesn’t reply. Instead, he tugs Geralt close and continues bravely into the next section of the haunted house. His instincts had shown themselves once again, eager to prove to Geralt that he was a worthy partner. He couldn’t have known, of course, that he was far worthier than Geralt had ever dreamed.

#geraskier fluff #mothskier #mothman jaskier #cryptid jaskier #fae jaskier #geraskier haunted house #a very bouncey halloween #geraskier halloween #geraskier ficlet #geraskier halloween ficlet #inbox open for suggestions for more halloween stuff!#fluff #haunted house #spooky time #anything for my darling lyssa

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