theamazingrin



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    It happens because Geralt is drunk.

    Jaskier expects laughs with their deliberate misuse of Gwent games. He gets more than he bargains for.

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    27 Oct 2025

  2. Public Bookmark *

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    "I'm not quite the helpless damsel in distress I make myself out to be," Jaskier begins.

     

    "Well, that would've been useful to know a hundred fights ago," Geralt says dryly.

    (OR, yet another creature!Jaskier fic, for your pleasure.)

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    12 Oct 2025

  3. Public Bookmark 36

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    Jaskier sprains his ankle, and Geralt is very Not Concerned about it.

    (For Flufftober Day 6 - Fireman's Carry)

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    12 Oct 2025

  4. Public Bookmark 74

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    “I can practically hear you thinking, Witcher dear. Kindly find something else to occupy your time, you’re giving me a headache.”

    Geralt jumped. “Hmm,” he said. Because what else was there to say? Yes, I was just daydreaming about running my hands across your back just to feel the softness of your skin? I think about such things sometimes, Jaskier, but you being here on display is making it impossible to think of anything else? He clenched his jaw, and the fist not holding the knife. The knife he slammed back into its sheath.

    Instead of saying something he’d regret, he cast his eyes about their little camp again, trying to find something to distract himself. His eyes fell on something shimmering on a flat rock jutting out near the water. “What’s this?” he mused, making his way across the camp. He had to walk very near to Jaskier, but he kept his eyes firmly averted. Mostly.

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    11 Oct 2025

  5. Rec *

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    Twenty years ago, the Warlord of the North came down out of the mountains and slew the king of Kaedwen, taking crown and kingdom for his own. Everyone expected him to be overthrown almost immediately, but he has only grown ever more secure in his position. Finally, the other countries around Kaedwen have begun to negotiate with him as they would any other king.

    To seal the new treaty between Redania and the Warlord, Lady Milena de Roggeven, third daughter of the Duke of Roggeven, has been sent to marry whichever of the Warlord’s men he chooses.

    Milena is starkly terrified of everything about her new husband; every rumor she has ever heard about the barbarians of the north seems worse than the last, and Lambert clearly despises the very thought of marriage.

    Lambert of the Wolves is still grieving his lost lover, dead more than three years now. The last thing he wants is to be married off to a terrified stranger, and he can’t imagine why Geralt and Eskel think he of all people is suited to a diplomatic marriage.

    And neither of them suspects the treachery that lies behind the treaty which binds them together.

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    21 Nov 2022

    Bookmarker's Notes

    The ultimate in comfort fic, reread multiple times a year.