Jasmine. 23. Canada. Bisexual.

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c-a-v-a-l-r-y·6 minutes agoText


Characters: Jaskier x female!reader (platonic) (basically like a bromance)

Summary: You and Jaskier are being held captive by the Nilfgaardian soldiers, regularly beaten as they demand for Ciri’s location.

Prompt by @sparkingstoryinspiration

“Maybe this is it, you know? Maybe this is all we were ever meant to be.”

“Fuck that, I’m not dying here.”

Warnings: Swearing; canon typical violence; mentions of blood/beatings/murder

Words: 1520

Missed the first chapter? Part 1 is here!

The taste of blood trickled into your mouth as the burning sensation on your cheek slowly subsided. But still you remained silent; you weren’t going to give them what they wanted. “I said,” A rough voice spat as a tall, scrawny man gripped your chin and violently lifted your head to meet his gaze, “Where is she?” You gave him a bloodstained grin and nothing more; the irritation in his eyes was clear and he struck you again on the face, this time connecting with the side of your nose. A warm, wet feeling began to drip down followed by a pungent, coppery smell, a familiar sensation even if the situation was not. Your captor backed away from your chair and walked over to another soldier, whispering. They had been beating you for answers sporadically since they took you the previous day, each soldier taking their turn to interrogate you; this was man number 3 and you still hadn’t uttered a word.

You looked around, once again taking in the details of the room you were held in. It was dimly lit, stone walls surrounded you and rotten beams barely held up the ceiling. The wooden slats covering the small window were splintered and barely blocked the dying sunlight; that combined with the dust and dried leaves littering the floor suggested that wherever you were had long been abandoned. You eyed the soldiers by the door as you could hear Jaskier’s grunts in the distance, the sound of him in pain made your blood boil. You hadn’t seen him since being captured- you knew this was on purpose- and so hearing his cries were the only evidence you had that he was still alive. Closing your eyes, you prayed that Jaskier was still holding on. You also prayed that Geralt and Ciri were somewhere safe; just knowing she was out of Nilfgaard’s reach made you smile, blood and saliva dripping onto your ripped breeches. The daze you had been in was slowly fading and giving way to the aches that covered your body. Your shoulders throbbed from the forced angle and your wrists burned from the rope that tied them behind you. Tilting your head, you watched the men leave you in the room alone, locking the door behind them. With that you let out a shaky breath and looked through the window, seeing nothing but trees and the setting sun. You wanted to cry, wanted to scream and yell and curse the bastards for what they were doing to you; but it was pointless and there was no way on this earth you were going to give them that satisfaction.

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c-a-v-a-l-r-y·18 minutes agoText


Characters: Geralt x reader (romantic); Ciri x reader (parental); Jaskier x reader (platonic)

Summary: Geralt and Y/n roam the lands looking for monsters to kill and coins to earn, all with a bard and a child surprise in tow. After stopping at a village for a hunt and much needed time off the road, your blissful retreat comes to a crashing end when enemies come to make their claim. You made a promise that no harm would come to the child and it is promise you will die keeping.

Warnings: Swearing; Canon typical violence

Words: 1890


“Oh come on, Geralt, please? I’m aching from all this riding!” Ciri’s voice whined from behind you. You smiled at her attempts to persuade him stop in the nearby village, she had been trying since just after dawn and now, as the sun reached its highest peak in the sky, you were all begging him. “Yes Geralt come on, Ciri’s right- we’ve been riding for days now, surely we can stop for one night?” It was Jaskier’s turn to beg, you turned to look at him and caught the wink he gave Ciri. You heard her chuckle slightly behind you and then felt her fingers dig into your waist slightly- urging you to take part. You sighed and then rode closer to Geralt- who had been silently staring ahead of him the entire time, “Maybe they’re right, my love. We’ve had some good hunts the last few days, why not get a good meal and a better night’s sleep?” He finally turned to look at you, his jaw set firmly until he saw the smile on your face and you watched his stern expression falter slightly. “Fine.” He mumbled, before turning Roach to head down a dusty track towards the village. “Thank you.” Ciri whispered, you turned to look at her and gave her a wink.

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c-a-v-a-l-r-y·30 minutes agoText


Notes: I created myself a little writing challenge for April. The challenge is a new song each day (Thanks to shuffling my iTunes library) to inspire a fic of some kind. I’ll listen to the song a few times, and then plan like mad when the inspiration hits.

April Writing Challenge Day 17 – Lift Me Up (by OneRepublic)

Characters: Jaskier x mage!reader; Geralt x mage!reader; Reader has gender neutral pronouns; the relationships are pretty platonic in this one :) 

Summary: Whilst on a journey of your own, you cross paths with a witcher and his bard; which potentially changes the course of your destiny as well as your view on the world.

Warnings: Swearing; allusions to harsh upbringing (mother); the boys being lil sweethearts

Words: 2400

As a small child, you had your heart broken. Once by a cat that ran away from you when you tried so desperately to care for it; another during Spring Festival when you waited for one of the other children to ask you to dance but you were left at the side until sundown. You always seemed to want what you couldn’t have. Your mother told you it was your human heart- one given to you so carelessly by your father- that made you weak; so she tried to train it out of you. The sorceress taught you to hunt, to kill; taught you spells and awoke a magic in you that you had never known. Mother said your human heart had been blocking it all this time- you were a horse that needed to be broken. And break you she did.

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c-a-v-a-l-r-y·44 minutes agoText


Notes: I created myself a little writing challenge for April. The challenge is a new song each day (Thanks to shuffling my iTunes library) to inspire a fic of some kind. I’ll listen to the song a few times, and then plan like mad when the inspiration hits.

April Writing Challenge Day 6 – He’s a Pirate (Pirates of the Caribbean Soundtrack)

** Swashbuckling fight music? Jovial violence? That sounds like my Witcher! – Me when listening to this song.

Characters: Geralt x magic!reader; Jaskier; Reader has gender neutral pronouns

Summary: Choosing a quiet tavern to enjoy a victory drink after a successful hunt, you receive a stark reminder that humans can be just as deadly. And stupid.

Warnings: Some swearing, good ol’ fisticuffs, very slight angst, flirty!Geralt, badass reader (Not really a warning but it makes everything better)

Words: 1620


Clouds were slowly dissipating from the sky and darkened purples and reds began to glow in their place. After another successful hunt, all three of you decided to head to a local tavern and enjoy some good food and ale. Once you had taken your fill of delicious breads and meats, you and Geralt enjoyed a drink together as Jaskier entertained the tavern’s customers, singing tales of your adventures and blights. You loved watching your good friend perform, seeing the bright, smiling faces of those enamoured with his stories. Tonight he was serenading various women who were enjoying his love ballads and passionate odes. As you began tapping your feet, a large hand slowly found its way to your thigh and a thumb gently rubbed circles on it. You turned to your side and smiled at Geralt, who seemingly had been staring at you the whole time. Without a word, you leaned in and pressed a small kiss to his lips, a reminder that he was the only star in your sky. You placed your hand on his arm and gently stroked it as you gazed into his eyes, the fiery amber never ceasing to keep your heart warm. You stayed like that for a while, looking into each other’s eyes lovingly as one of Jaskier’s love songs floated in the air. Then you stuck your tongue out at him, causing a low rumble in his chest that vibrated through you. When Jaskier’s song ended you both clapped, you met the bard’s eye with a beaming smile, using your fingers to whistle as well, causing him to blush slightly.

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c-a-v-a-l-r-y·an hour agoText


Notes: I created myself a little writing challenge for April. The challenge is a new song each day (Thanks to shuffling my iTunes library) to inspire a fic of some kind. I’ll listen to the song a few times, and then plan like mad when the inspiration hits.

April Writing Challenge Day 3 – A Storm is Coming (Lord of The Rings: The Return of the King Soundtrack)

** I would also like to say that it was easier to write something based on this instrumental than I thought… the power of the LOTR my friends!

Characters: Geralt x female!reader (flirting); Jaskier x female!reader (besties); Roach

Summary: A beautiful day in the forest turns sour when a game of hide and seek is interrupted by a violent attack. Can you prove your usefulness to Geralt?

Warnings: Swearing, description of a dead animal, canon typical violence, barely any angst this time(!), sexual tension (definitely should be a warning).

Words: 2220


Days like this were very rare. Even before you met the bard and the witcher, you never got to experience bliss like this. Trees all around stood like giants, their leaves swaying with the wind’s tune; twittering of birds gently accompanied the sound of the trickling water you were walking along. To some the density of greens and browns would be claustrophobic, but to you it was an expansive paradise. You walked alongside Geralt, pointing out the birds to him and naming them with ease. He didn’t look at you, only grunting in response as his gaze moved from the ground to the tree trunks, so you tested him. “And look Geralt, a purple jay!”

“You said you can’t get purple jays.” He stated monotonously. You looked at him, eyebrows raised, “Oh so you were listening?” You teased. He turned his head to look at you, the light from above flickered into his amber eyes, “I always listen when you talk.” He replied, a slight smile dared to appear on his normally hardened face. You felt a blush on your cheeks, not knowing what to say. Luckily a voice from behind called out, “You don’t always listen to me though!” Jaskier was walking in the bubbling stream, enjoying the cool freshness on his feet, then he slipped his shoes back on and ran to catch up with you. Geralt looked at him, “You don’t always say anything interesting.” He bluntly responded. You tried to stifle a giggle as Jaskier gasped dramatically, “Don’t worry Jask, I always listen to you!” You comforted him, placing a hand on his arm. Beaming at you, he turned to walk backwards in front of you, holding your hand in his, “Thank you, y/n! This is why my next song will be about you and the sunshine you bring to the world!” He declared, before pressing a kiss to your knuckles. This made you chuckle while Geralt groaned at the act.

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c-a-v-a-l-r-y·an hour agoText


A/N: Widely requested. 

The gif in this is perfect. I almost screamed.


Title: You Make Me Smile

Summary: The one thing you should never do is start a tickle fight with a Witcher.

Words: 1223


Geralt, believe it or not, didn’t often wind up in bad moods. Of course, his frequent grumpy demeanour and tendency to shout and punch and, well, kill quite diminished those thoughts to whoever may have them, but it was true. And, for the most part, he had you to thank for that.

Because, as he’d found out over his years with you, if a man like him ever felt that occasional twinge of unhappiness that had built up over long years of war and hardship, he only had to look at the one who’d made that twinge occasional, and not constant, and that twinge would fade.

Nevertheless, currently, not even the sight of you could break him out of this one. He was, well and truly, crabby.

You’d told him countless times since he’d returned from his recent hunt that Witchers are allowed to mess up on hunts. There was nobody really who would dare say they couldn’t. Not that he’d even really messed up. But apparently finishing a hunt twenty minutes later than normal and getting hurt in the process of killing the monster - it’d been a werewolf this time - meant he messed up. You hadn’t really known what to say to that.

“Please just… smile… or something?” you tried for perhaps the tenth time, watching with a hopeful glint in your eye as you stood cautiously behind the Witcher, who was bent over a rabbit on a spit above a fire. He turned, and you grimaced at the completely cold look on his face.

He held your nervous gaze for three seconds before turning back and aggressively poking a stick at the fire. “Clean the bowls out,” he ordered, and you didn’t even have the willpower to say no.

With a roll of your eyes you grabbed up the two bowls and the water skin, washing them before dropping them back in the place you’d gotten them - almost as aggressively as his stick-poking. 

He noticed it, too, which was why he lifted his head the slightest bit and rose an eyebrow, but apart from that he said nothing on the matter and simply turned back to the rabbit.

You stood behind him and crossed your arms. Geralt continued poking. You continued staring. 

“You know,” you started after a short while, “that werewolf is dead.”

Geralt paused for the smallest of moments. “Is it? I don’t remember ripping it apart.” Sarcasm dripped from his words like the dead, burnt skin was flaking off the rabbit.

“Then stop moping!” you practically begged. “It’s dead! It’s over! Who cares how long it took to do it?”

Geralt remained quiet, throwing his stick onto the dying embers of the fire and watching as the flames rose a little higher with the added kindling. Really, if he had given an answer, it would have been somewhere along the lines of “because every extra moment it’s alive gives it an extra moment to get to you” but his lips stayed shut.

You crossed your arms over your chest and took a stance he definitely would have classed as adorable had he turned to see it. Your eyes were fixed on your back, and as your face twisted into one of contemplation, a thought came to you. Granted, it was a stupid thought, but you didn’t really have anything else available to you, so it was worth a try.

It really hadn’t been worth a try.

Uncrossing your arms, you’d slowly take a step forward. And another step. Then you’d stretched your arms out in front of you and taken another.

And you’d quickly paused as Geralt turned his head the smallest bit, amber eyes not looking at you but still holding that intensifying glare. “What are you doing?”


You bit your lip. “Uh. Nothing?”

He turned the rest of the way around, hands resting on his knees and one eyebrow delicately arched. “Really?”


He looked at you for a moment longer, gaze unwavering while you bit your lip and nervously attempted to hold it. A moment later, he turned back around and moved to throw some more sticks onto the fire. “Try and tickle me,” he said casually, “and you know I’ll get you.”


Really, that should have stopped you right in your tracks. But, somehow, it only increased your drive.

And yet, as Geralt made it one of his many jobs to make clear, he knew you far better than he knew anyone - even himself - and, therefore, as you moved to take another step foreward, he swung around, grabbed your outstretched arms and practically yanked you towards and in front of him.

A loud noise of both surprise and the slightest bit of pain as your back all but collided with the ground between the fire and Geralt escaped your lips, but all of that became lost to you as soon as a large hand found its way under your tunic and began scribbling against the skin of your stomach.

Giggles poured from your mouth immediately, and you grabbed at his hand, attempting to roll over. “Gerahahahalt!”

“I did warn you,” the Witcher replied gruffly. He took the time, as he always did when he had you in a position such as this, to truly look at how small you were. Of course, you’d always been little to him, but when you were rolling about on the floor beneath him, child-like giggles spilling from your lips like breaths, desperately attempting to wrench his giant hand off you yet not able to lift it even an inch, it became all the more clear. In a perfectly good way.

The corners of his lips, finally, turned upwards, and yet you were too distracted to notice your victory.

“Fuhuck you!” you laughed, now slapping at his hand. “I dihidn’t touch youhu!”

Geralt shrugged, digging in a little harder and suppressing his own laugh as you squealed manically. “You were about to,” he told you, “and that’s enough for me.”


At your scream when he moved his fingers to your ribs, he couldn’t keep his amusement at bay much longer, and a wide grin spread across his lips. He leaned down quickly, moved your tunic up and blew a raspberry right above your navel, grimacing and squeezing his eyes shut at the piercing screech you made not a second later.

“Alright, alright,” he said, holding both hands up in surrender. You made to roll away, but he swiftly reacted and grabbed you as you got too close to the fire.

“Nohoho!” you giggled, hugging yourself as he dragged you onto his lap, and he shook his head in clear amusement.

“I’ve stopped, silly girl, calm down. Just didn’t want you rolling into the damn fire, believe it or not.”

He moved his hand to your head and smoothed back your dishevelled hair. The scent of burning filled his nostrils and he glanced up, immediately groaning. “Look what you made me do,” he said. “Dinner’s burnt.”

You laughed. “At least it made you smile!”

“Mhm, yes.” With a sigh, Geralt leant back, hand still at your head on his lap.

Of course it had made him smile.

After all… the way to make him smile had always been for you to do it first.

I’m all mushy after reading this and I’m just so happy and full of love 🥺💜

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c-a-v-a-l-r-y·2 hours agoText


Summary: You hear the voice again and it leads you to a figure with a knife that draws out your magick. 

Warnings: small angst, fluff, mentions of blood, mentions of magick, slightly protective Geralt, strong language

Word Count: 2,405

Her Eyes Masterlist II The Witcher Masterlist


You hear the voice throughout the night, in the distance and in your dreams. It wakes you from the dream, but it’s not a sudden awakening. It’s almost peaceful. And something inside you wants to follow the voice. 

Standing to your feet like you’re not in control of your body, your eyes set on a direction that will take you deep into the woods, you set off, not aware of the sleeping Witcher you walk past. 

As you walk you try to comprehend what the voice is saying. But it just sounds like constant whispering and you can’t make out anything. You walk deeper into the woods, your feet lightly treading the ground and your hand brushing against the trees that you pass. Then you make out one word. 

“Run.” You frown at the word and tilt your head in confusion. But your feet carrying on leading you forward. 

As you carry on walking, the voice gets louder. The whispering becomes louder, harder to make out something. And just when you think you’re able to hear what it’s saying, a hand touches your shoulder and pushes you against a tree, breaking you out of whatever trance you were in.

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c-a-v-a-l-r-y·2 hours agoText


Summary:  On your beginning journey North, You and Geralt come across a voice that has no good intention. 

Warning: slight angst, slight fluff, reader starts opening up to Geralt, strong language, I don’t know what else XD

Word Count: 1,743

Her Eyes Masterlist II The Witcher Masterlist


“Are you always this quiet?” you question, your horse walking beside his and your head turned to him. He keeps his gaze out in front of him and gives a short grunt making a small smile grow on your face. “Do all of your answers consist of either one word answers or grunts?” you ask, earning a hum from him this time. “You’re not any fun, you know.”

“We’re not in the palace anymore, princess,” he speaks, slowly turning his gaze to you. “It’s my job to protect you. Not be your friend.” You should be hurt by his words, but you remember how cold and rude you were to him the night you told him about your mother. After that, all you two spoke about was the arrangements to leave. 

You had left this morning before the castle had awoken. “And who would you be protecting me from, Witcher?” you ask, raising an eyebrow at him and smirking.

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c-a-v-a-l-r-y·2 hours agoText


Summary: At the banquet that night, Imes convinces you to go. Geralt realizes that your heritage has been kept a secret when he reveals to the hall that you are the daughter of a dragon. 

Warnings: strong language, angst, fluff (between family), not much actually, if I missed something please let me know

Her Eyes Masterlist II The Witcher Masterlist


Your entire life, people have made comments about you, about your eyes, about what you are. When you saw the Witcher, you thought that he would be different from them. You thought that he would look at you and see something other than your different eyes. You thought that he would understand what it’s like have something different than normal. Turns out, you were wrong.

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c-a-v-a-l-r-y·2 hours agoText


Summary: The Witcher isn’t a bodyguard or a delivery boy. But for a princess with a special past and unique ancestry, he is willing to be just that.

Warnings: slight angst, gossiping, strong language, a short part to kick the series off

Her Eyes Masterlist II The Witcher Masterlist


All the times Geralt has been pulled into taking jobs he hadn’t planned on taking in the first place has started with an alderman refusing to pay him for the monster he has killed. That then leads him to someone in a place of power and having them try to persuade him to do them a favor for coin. 

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c-a-v-a-l-r-y·2 hours agoText



[Boyega]: I want to thank every single one of you for coming out. This is very important—this is very vital. Black lives have always mattered! We have always been important. We have always meant something. We have always succeeded regardless, and now is the time. I ain’t waiting! I ain’t waiting! I have been born in this country, I’m 28 years old, born and raised in London, I’ve grown tired—every black person understands and realizes the first time you are reminded that you are black. You remember, every black person in here remembers, when another person reminded you that you are black. So none of you out there, all those protestors on the other side protesting against what we want to do, protesting against what we want to try and achieve, [?] you, because this is so vital.

[Other voices, to crowd]: Sit down! Sit down!

[Boyega]: Sit down, guys, we have to sit down. If you could sit down, if you can sit down. Now I need you guys to understand, I need you to understand now how painful this shit is! I need you to understand how painful it is to be reminded every day that your race means nothing! And that isn’t the case anymore. That is never the case anymore. We are going to try today—we are a physical representation of our support for George Floyd.

[Crowd cheers]

[Boyega]: We are a physical representation of our support for Sandra Bland! We are a physical representation of our support for Trayvon Martin! We are a physical representation of our support for Stephen Lawrence! For Mark Duggan! It is very, very important that we keep control of this moment and we make this as peaceful as possible. We make this as peaceful and as organized as possible. Because you know what, guys, they want us to mess up. They want us to be disorganized. But not today! Not today!

[Other voices]: Not today!

[Boyega]: Not today! And now this message is specifically for black men. Black men, we—[Boyega cuts off, crying and bending over from emotion]

[Crowd]: Speak! Speak!

[Other voices]: You can do this, you’ve got this.

[Boyega]: Black men, black men, we need to take care of our black women. We need to take care of them! They are our hearts! They are our hearts, they are our future, we cannot demonize our own. We are the pillars of the family. Imagine this, a nation that is set up with individual families that are thriving, that are healthy, that communicate, that raise their children in love, have a better rate of becoming better human beings, and that’s what we need to create. Black men, it starts with you, and it’s done, man—we can’t be trash no more. We have to be better.

You don’t understand, I’m speaking to you from the heart. Look, I don’t know if I’m going to have a career after this. But fuck that–[words bleeped out]. This, today, is about innocent people who were halfway through their process. We don’t know what George Floyd could have achieved; we don’t know what Sandra Bland could have achieved. But today we’re going to make sure that that won’t be an alien thought to our young ones. I’m sure you lot came today, you left your kids, and when you see your kids there aimlessly playing, they don’t understand what’s going on. Today is the day that we remind them that we are dedicated, and this is a lifelong dedication. Guys, we don’t leave here and stop, you know. We don’t leave here and stop. This is longevity. Some of you are artists, some of you are bankers, some of you are lawyers, some of you own shops, stores. You are important. Your individual power, your individual right, is very, very important. We can all join together to make this a better world. We can all join together to make this special. We can all join together!

[End transcript.]


John Boyega at Hyde Park demonstration #BlackLivesMattter

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c-a-v-a-l-r-y·3 hours agoText


if we’re mutuals, you are allowed to slip 1 (One) small lizard into my pocket if you see me at the farmer’s market

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