Grimlin



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    Get your soft drunk Geralt makes first love confession right here. Step right up. (He also composes a poem for a very confused Jaskier)

    Jaskier tends to a drunken Geralt, who has a hurt ankle. In Vino Veritas.

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    Geralt lifted his hand again, only this time he placed his finger on the tip of Jaskier’s nose. It was an entirely unprecedented gesture and Jaskier had to make an effort not to show his surprise.

    “You are friend shaped,” Geralt said simply.

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    31 May 2023

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    Jaskier watched him from across the fire licking at the sky.

    Geralt watched him in return - watched clever fingers pluck at the strings of the guitar.

    “Why’re you followin’ me?” He asked, and Jaskier grinned crookedly.

    “Because you’re brimming with soul.” Jaskier answered, and Geralt was reminded viscerally of the first day they had traveled together - the way the moonlight had bounced off Jaskier’s features, the way he’d seemed otherworldly.

    “I ain’t got one of those.” Geralt said with a roll of his shoulders.

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    Vignettes of an otherworldly Wild West AU.

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    13 Feb 2023

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    Geralt touches this thing he is not allowed, gauges the fit of Jaskier's smile alongside his hand, the curve of his trim waist, the weight of his softening cock. He measures it up in his mind, memorizing its lines and proportions, so he knows where it fits in his fortifications.

    It is no easier, this time. Geralt's clawed fingers trace Axii. He watches again as Jaskier's expressive face goes blank.

    Geralt has had four great loves in his life. He has lost all but one.

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    26 Jan 2023

  4. Public Bookmark 82

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    The Witcher meets Jacqueline Carey's Kushiel universe. No previous knowledge of the series is needed. Jaskier is a holy prostitute and Geralt is his celibate monk bodyguard. Amen.

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    21 Jan 2023

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    Geralt has gone to knees in front of Jaskier, arms held behind him and chin raised high.  He’s sitting on his heels, shoulders back.  His posture is better than any submissive Jaskier has ever seen; like he has been waiting a long, long time.

    Like it is all that he needs.

    “Geralt,” Jaskier starts, but there are no more words in him right then. 

    Geralt’s eyes are still pitch black, and he is bleeding sluggishly from a dozen different wounds, whining low at the sound of his name.  The potions help him in a fight, but they’re hard on his body, and he’s taken far too many of them if his eyes haven’t shifted back yet.  He tilts his head to the side, exposing the column of his throat, and something sings through Jaskier that he cannot even begin to quell.  Geralt is on his knees.

    Geralt is on his knees for Jaskier.

    “Oh, darling,” Jaskier says, reaching down to cup his cheek, watching the way his head lolls into the touch.  His breathing starts to even out as Jaskier brushes the hair back from his face with his other hand, running gentle fingers over his brow.  “You’ve been keeping secrets.”

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    13 Dec 2022