[Alltid leva, aldrig dö]

• Lavender by vands88 @vands88
• A Blessing, A Curse by aileenrose
• to render it transparent by theundiagnosable
• louder and louder by smolpot8o @lilacsdandelionsandonions
• Do it Again by thisgirlsays22
• again, and again by siren_songs
• An Incomplete Happiness by BlossomsintheMist @blossomsinthemist
• His Touch by Sevent
• Even a small love by shecrows

• Greensleeves by DorkMagician
• Lovely by lutes_and_dandelions
• Fly off the handle by GonEwiththeWolveS
• Lessons in Mortality by Girl_in_Red_Crossing @girl-in-red-crossing​
• Love (The Kind You Clean Up With a Mop and Bucket) by Gigi_Sinclair

• ages and ages by witchertrashbag @witchertrashbag
• Stirring Dull Roots With Spring Rain by  BlossomsintheMist @blossomsinthemist
• Mean it (and break me down) by Ysmiyr 

“This is the thing, Geralt. I’m middle-aged and tired and I just think I’d rather meet death sitting down and facing it rather than from behind while I’m running. You know?” He contemplated that a moment, and finally added, “Especially if it’s you.” (Ongoing series, post S1, and the fourth story—starring Jaskier and Yennefer—will break your heart and also knock your fucking socks off)

Every year, Jaskier finds himself singing at Cintra’s court, watching Geralt’s abandoned Child Surprise grow up.

Jaskier likes to insinuate himself into places he was previously not allowed. (Ongoing series)

Some songs, Jaskier sings for Geralt only. Too bad it takes Geralt so long to notice.

“Does he fuck you,” said the witch.

Thank all the gods they were alone in the dingy stone courtyard on the edge of the world.

“Um,” said Jaskier. “To whom do you refer.”

Julian is six when he realizes that he’s got an astounding capacity for being an annoying bastard. He’s seventeen when he finally decides to lean in.

Sometimes all Geralt needs is silence.

Jaskier steps closer, meeting Geralt’s eyes in the dirty little mirror above the wash basin. He looks determined. Unusually—somber. Serious. “You’re being a shit because I’m an equal opportunity lover, aren’t you?” (Ongoing series)

Jaskier is cursed, complications arise.

“Right, well,” Jaskier says, when he halts before Geralt. Up close, he looks much more nervous. There is sweat on his brow and his collar is damp with it, and his teeth keep catching on his lower lip. “True love’s kiss. There's—ah—there’s nothing to it.” And he bends, the utter imbecile, and kisses Geralt full on the mouth.

By the twentieth time Geralt has gone through the loop, he decides to just throw himself off the cliff’s edge after Borch.

He wakes up to his twenty-first attempt.

“Fuck.”

Jaskier is throwing up flowers and refuses to tell Geralt who has afflicted him so. As Geralt grapples with Jaskier’s impending death, he comes to terms with a few things himself.