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#'geralt don't yell at him he didn't know'
renren-006 · 2 days
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Hi there! I’m an angst addict so I was thinking like a story about the sorcerer ball that Geralt and Yennefer attend in season 3 but with the Reader who is like dating Geralt has to stay behind with Jaskier and Ciri has some jealousy because of Geralt and Yen’s history and starts thinking that our white wolf would prefer her instead….if that makes sense 😭
Preference? | Geralt x Fem Reader
word count: 909
a/n: omg yesss!! i had fun writing this so enjoyyyyy!!
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The ball was that evening, and after the long boat ride and fight you, Geralt, and Ciri had to go through, you were looking forward to it. What you didn't expect was Geralt sidelining you with Jaskir and Ciri. You stood there dumbfounded and Yennifer and Geralt explained that it would make more sense to have more people watch Ciri. You watched him leave that night in an elegant outfit and a single kiss before he went towards the castle.
“He loves you, you know that right Y/N” Jaskir said to you. 
“How Jask. Look at Yennefer. I'll never look like her, and I'll never be as powerful…” you told him. You and Jaskir were best friends before Geralt even entered the picture. He glanced over at you, seeing you go through heartbreak after heartbreak. This time, both of you wanted this to be the last. He hugged you as Geralt disappeared beyond sight. 
Ciri, however, didn't notice anything. Absorbed in her own little world for a bit, or at least for most of the night, she didn't let on that she had been listening to you. She saw the way Yennifer was eying Geralt. It wasn't until a few card games that she talked about it. 
“I prefer you over Yennefer.” She told you. Jaskir looked at you, seeing the smile and shock on your face. “I don't like that he didn't ask you to go.”
“I…I don't either, Ciri” you told the young girl. 
“He loves you. I think he's just being stupid,” Ciri told you, comforting you. The young girl had taken a strong liking to you in the years you had been with and known her. She thought of you like a mother, a guardian, someone she knew would lay down her life to protect her.  You managed to find her before Geralt and keep her safe while helping her find your lover and her guardian. Once you did, it felt like a family reunion. You remember meeting Yen with them and discovering her betrayal. Seeing her now and knowing she was trying to be genuine, you had no reason to worry, yet you did.  The rest of the night was a mix of worry and jealousy. 
You worried he would realize how much better the woman before him that night was than you. How powerful she was and how it barely compared to you. How could she teach Ciri far better than you could about magic, even though Ciri had mastered most, if not all, of what you had taught her so far. You just wanted Geralt to love you for you, and you felt as thought you might always be compared to her. 
When morning came, and Geralt walked through the door with Yennifer, you noticed he wore a different outfit. You glanced at Yennifer, who was doing her best not to look over at you. Her face was flush, and her eyes were cast down away from you. Your worries were confirmed. 
“I knew it,” you said. Geralt's eyes flashed with worry, worry that you had figured it out. You stormed out the back door, and Geralt followed after. 
“Y/N! Y/N/N!” he yelled. Your flowy flower dress flowed in the wind as you continued storming off towards the woods, wishing to be with the trees. Soon after, you fell to the ground in the middle of a clearing, hearing and feeling the forest energy.
“Are you alright?” Geralt asked, kneeling next to you.
“You slept with Yennifer didn't you?” you asked, tears in your eyes. “You know I'm nothing compared to her. How could I ever expect to be better than her? You'll always want her…”
“Y/N that's not true” Geralt said, his husky voice causing you to shiver away. 
“Yes it is” you said, power serging from you, rumbling the woods. “I am nothing compared to Geralt, I have less power, less beauty...”
“Y/N! I told her I wanted to marry you "Geralt said, holding your face in his hands. 
“What?” you said. Suddenly everything in you went quiet, including the world around you.
“I told her I wanted to spend my life with you from now on. That she meant nothing to me anymore.” Geralt's words cut through you. Yennifer's downward look wasn't because she was sorry she slept with him, but because she was sorry she tried to and got rejected. You realize that Geralt's clothes were probably because he was tired from the long night of fighting that Yen lent him clothes, not because he wanted to stay.
“You want to marry me?” you asked him, tears in your eyes
“Yes,” he said firmly. 
“I'm sorry…I was…” you stumbled over words. 
“It's okay. Darling i understand” He said kissing your tears away, “I understand why you got there. Why you think I loved her? I don't”
“I know that now” you said slightly laughing, “I love you”
“I know, darling,” he said. He helped you stand and walk back towards that little cottage with your family inside. Yennifer came over and apologized profusely. She wanted nothing more than to be friends and to set up the wedding. She was happy he found someone like you and that she wouldn't ever get in the way. You were happy your worries were not true and that Geralt was the man for you forever.
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starfirewildheart · 1 month
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Chapter 17
Summary: Sy and his lady both retire from the army but not before tragedy befalls Sy. He slowly tries to adjust to life again on their ranch.
Pairing: Sy / OFC
Word count: 2,512
Rating: no one under 17. I'm not responsible for what you read. Kindly police yourself.
Chapter 17
August glanced over his shoulder into the back seat. Three weeks and two surgeries later the hospital finally agreed to let Debbie go home. She still had a long road ahead and it still didn't guarantee a full recovery and her anxiety was through the roof at times and at other times was so depressed she was nearly catatonic and a few normal days scattered in between. She was refusing to eat and in general sulking like a brat. Sy hoped getting her home would help.
Mike had been released after a week and a half. Walt had taken custody of him and Napoleon and Will were staying with them as security until everyone was jailed, including the corrupt cops. He was recovering physically but emotionally he was distant and shutting them out.
Geralt turned onto the long, tree lined drive admiring the land and imagining what it looked like in summer. He loved the country and a working ranch brought a warm feeling to his heart. He drove past the barns where a few work trucks sat along with ranch hands tending horses noting a beautiful chestnut mare before turning his attention back to the drive. Finally they pulled up in front of the large ranch style home and parked. Everyone got out, Sy helping Deb out and lifting her into his arms bridal style while Geralt and August got everyone's bags.
Deb took a deep breath of the fresh air ecstatic to smell anything besides anesthetic and medicinal scents that she'd been trapped in for weeks. 
“Where's Aika?” Deb asked, seeking out their furry friend. 
“She's with my sister and the kids. They are bringing her home tomorrow. “ He gently bounced her in his arms. “Where would ya like to get comfy sugar?” Sy asked as they all walked in. All the Christmas stuff was still up even though it was after Christmas now because they hadn't got to celebrate yet.
“Bath.”
 “Baby,” he started but was cut off. 
“Bath,” firmer.
“You want to wash off again?” He could see wanting to smell like their soap and not hospital bath in a bag shit so he started toward their ensuite bathroom. He sat her on the edge of the bed with her bad leg up and started gathering clean clothes for her.
“No Sy, a real bath.”
He turned to her. “You know you can't get your leg wet Deb. Your stitches could come apart or you could get an infection.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and scowled.  “I don't care. I've not been in a bath or even a shower in three weeks!” When he arched his brow at her and crossed his arms over his chest she sighed and stood shakily on her good leg. “I'll do it myself!”
“Sit down!” He yelled and stepped forward. She sat down and blinked up at him with wide eyes. He hated yelling at her after all she'd been through but he refused to let her act out like that. “Little girl, you will not hurt yourself or cause any further injury just because you want to get your way.” He gripped her chin in his big hand and forced her to hold eye contact. “I'm gonna try to get you into the bathtub but if it doesn't work I will give you a sponge bath and you won't fight me on it. Got it?”
“Yes sir,” She agrees . “I'm sorry I yelled. I just feel so dirty and I haven't… I know I've been washed but I just
.. I still feel their hands on me and i…I just want to wash it all away.” He leaned in and kissed her forehead. 
Fifteen minutes later she was perched on the vanity in nothing but a shirt and bulky leg brace that went from her upper thigh to her ankle. 
Sy was filling the tub with water when something hit him in the back of the head. “Woman,” he turned to face her, suddenly realizing it was her shirt she'd thrown and she was now sitting on the vanity completely naked. “Fuck,” he rasped all blood flow in his body going straight to his dick. 
“I hope so,” She grinned,  crooking her finger and beckoning him to her. When he was close enough she fisted his shirt and pressed their mouths together in a heated kiss. Sy pressed against her, hooking her good leg over his hip and she felt him pulsing against her through his cargo pants. Tears brimmed in her eyes.
“Are you hurting?” He asked as he wiped a tear away with his thumb.
She shook her head , eyes locked with his while she tried to get her emotions under control enough to speak. Swallowing past the huge lump in her throat she pressed her hand to his bulge rubbing it and relishing in his sharp intake of air. “You still want me.”
“What? Of course I want you Deb. You're my life.” He didn't understand how that could even be a question but he could see the doubt in her eyes. “Debbie?”
“I just,” She didn't know how to express how she felt. Like she couldn't form the words much less say them. “I…”
“Talk to me darlin’, please.”
“Sy, the water,” She pointed to the nearly overflowing tub.
“Fuck!” he ran over and shut the water off just before it spilled over the edge of the tub. He laughed but drained enough of the water that she could get in without it pouring on the floor then went back to her. Cupping her face in his hands he leaned in, pressing their foreheads together. “Please talk to me. Don't shut me out Deb. I know you remember the hell we both went through when I tried to hide my thoughts from you. I was lost in my own hell and putting you through it too. We promised to tell each other everything after that, remember?”
She knew exactly what he was talking about. When he was recovering from his POW time he felt like he was too much, not worth the work, or the love she had for him and he tried everything he could to make her leave him but she refused. It nearly broke them both. “i..I'm not the one for you. Not your soul mate anyway. You're settling for me because I'm safe and comfortable.”
Sy felt like someone punched a fist into his chest and was crushing his heart. “You're my world Debbie, my heart, my everything. I'm sorry if I haven't shown you what you mean to me. Please, give me a chance to….”
“Austin, no! It's not that at all. You treat me like a queen and I know that you love me!” She hugged him tight. “This isn't about anything you've done or not done. It's about me. It's about me not being enough. I mean family is everything to you and your mom hates me. I turned your dream ranch into an animal rescue because I needed to feel like I was doing something helpful. I just latched on to you and didn't even notice that you weren't settling down or or ,” he head was pounding.
“That I haven't given you a ring so you couldn't possibly be what makes me happy? Isn't that what Lindy told you that night at the restaurant?” When he watched her he'd dip down because she couldn't look at him he gritted his teeth. “I haven't given you the ring yet because I wanted to be sure I could be the man you deserve,  that I could overcome the PTSD enough to give you a life, sugar. It has everything to do with you but not how you're thinking. I was so afraid of not being good enough I didn't show you how much I can't live without you.”
She shook her head, “No. It's not your..”
“We both said that but clearly there is a problem, sugar because you are doubting us.”
“Doubting me,” She explained quietly.
Realization washed over him and it all became crystal clear. She'd been his rock for so long he'd forgotten how she was when they first met. The chip she had on her shoulder because she felt like she had to prove she was good enough, that she could be the best at everything. He took it as a woman having to prove herself in a man's military at first but the more he was around her he realized that she was afraid to let anyone close, trusted no one to even have her six. She lived like she herself was the only one in the world she could trust or depend on. It led to a lot of being reprimanded, write ups, push ups, pull ups, and finally a talking to that finally made her see thongs from Sy's point of view about having to trust her team or they were all in danger. That was when he really started trying to get to know her in earnest, when he eventually learned about her abuse and abandonment. She'd come so far and he'd been through so much that he didn't realize she needed reassurance he wasn't giving her. He was a fucking moron. 
She gasped when Sy grabbed her face and kissed her and didn't stop until her tense muscles finally relaxed against him and she was breathless. She didn't even register him removing the leg brace until he was lowering her into the hot water, careful to keep her bad leg resting on the side of the tub. She sighed contentedly as she leaned back. Sy chuckled, “Feel good?”
“So good!” 
They both jumped at the knock on the bathroom door. Sy stood and went to see who it was.
“Your sister is here,” Geralt told him. “She needs to talk to you.”
“I'll be right there,” he sighed. He went back to Deb. “You stay put. If you aren't in the same position you are now when I get back I'm going to spank you until you can't sit and when that ass starts to cool down and feel better then I'm going to do it all over again and again until I feel like you learned your lesson and if I get tired I'll let Gearlt and August takeover.”
She fully intended to protest but what came out of her was more of a strangled whimper. He cleared his throat to hide his chuckle.  “I'll be good, I promise.”
“I know you will, sugar.” 
Sy went to speak to his sister and Debbie soaked in her hot bath. She sat still for a bit but really wanted to wash. Chewing her lip she pondered if grabbing the soap would be against the rules. Stretching her arm out she reached the soap without moving her butt at all and took it as a victory. Lathering up her bath puff she started washing herself. Once she felt squeaky clean she grabbed her razor and started shaving … everywhere. After three weeks she resembled a sasquatch except the leg and arm (shoulder) they'd done surgery on. When that was done she settled for a few minutes but quickly got bored, she was all alone after all. “Oooo jets!” Pressing the button the jacuzzi jets bubbled to life and massaged her sore muscles only with her bad leg up at an awkward angle it exposed her to the full force of the jets causing her to jerk and gasp. The pain that shot though her leg was almost instantly replaced with need as she used her finger to further expose her clit to the jet. Using her other hand she slipped two fingers into her slit working them hard and fast chasing the pleasure she didn't realize she needed so badly. Turning her body a little toward the side of the tub the jet hit the perfect spot and even though she couldn't reach the spot inside due to her awkward positioning the jet was doing the trick. Her hips slowly started to flutter as she threw her head back and whimpered through her release moving her hand away from exposing her clit as the pulse of the jet became uncomfortable. She hadn't noticed Sy come back in or even approach until she felt his fingers pushing into her still quivering hole. “Fuck!” She squealed at the stretch and shock of it.
He lifted her ass up out of the water enough to latch his mouth onto her clit and switch between sucking and licking until he'd made her cum two more times, the last time screaming out his name with a series of loud moans.
Sy got her out of the tub and carried her straight to the bed. It was tall enough that he could just bend her over the edge, carefully resting her bad leg out to the side up on the bed leaving her open to his hungry gaze. “You ready for me sugar? Gonna take my dick like a good girl?”
“Please,” he begged, trying to rub her ass back against him. She gasped when his big hand smacked against her ass leaving a burning ache in its wake.
“Be still, your brace is still off. You're in trouble as it is, little girl.” He grinned when she went still, knowing she was thinking about the spanking he told her she'd get if she moved earlier. He took the distraction to push himself in up to the hilt causing them both to moan at the sensation. “So fuckin tight for me, like your made to fit my dick.”
All she could do was moan incoherently as he railed her from behind, each thrust causing her to gasp as he pounded against her cervix. It was painful but the pull out and push in up to that point was bliss. She was losing the battle of control over her body and clamped down on him as tight as she could, wanting to give him some of the pleasure he'd Given her.
“Son of a bitch,” he growled as she squeezed him so tight he thought his brain was coming out of his cock. Reaching under her he started rubbing her clit. “Cum for me. I want to feel you come apart when I fill you full of cum.” A few more circles to her bundle of nerves and she was rutting between his cock and fingers.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” She cried as she exploded around him and he emptied inside of her, the wet squelching sound of their combined releases echoing in the room as he collapsed breathlessly beside her.
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redskull199987 · 9 months
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All the right Moves
Eskel x female Witcher!reader  Word count:2.4k warnings: canon typical violence, reader is injured, fluff at the end Summary:You´re on your way back to Kaer Morhen together with Eskel, as you run into a Leshy. You knew that something was wrong, as Eskel told you he wouldn't want to travel with you anymore…
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You were hiking so fast, that you could feel your lungs burning inside your chest. Your throat dry from not drinking anything for hours. Your feet were begging you to stop, even just for a minute. But you knew, you couldn't. If you stopped now, he would be dead, once you reached Kaer Morhen. You just had to make it in time. If Eskel died, you would never forgive yourself. His words were still ringing in the back of your head.
“Leave me alone!”, he yelled, as he pushed you away from him. Confused, you looked at the Witcher, who was normally warm and understanding around you. All you had done was touch his shoulder carefully, asking if you could see his injury.“Eskel…are you okay?”, you mumbled, Confusion still written all over your face.
“Just fuck off.”, he cursed under his breath, turning away from him. 
You watched in confusion as he walked away from you, gathering his weapons. He didn't look back at you even once.
Your breath hitched slightly, as you could finally see the silhouette of Kaer Morhen on the Horizon. One or Two hours more and you would reach the old castle. It would be nightfall by then. You finally started to walk again, reaching into your pocket to find the potion, that was the reason why you were so late. You were sure that all the others had already arrived. Geralt and Vesemir probably worrying not only about Eskel, but also wondering why you didn't arrive yet. 
You desperately wished that you weren't so late. But it had taken you longer than expected, to find someone who knew how to make the potion you needed. If it weren't for a mage, who was a good friend of yours, who teleported you near the mountains, where Kaer Morhen was, you would´ve lost several days and Eskel would probably be dead already. But luckily, you were only half a day behind him, which luckily gave you enough time to save him. Or so you hoped. 
“Just fucking leave me alone!”, Eskel screamed at you, after you had finally managed to get a good look at his shoulder.“You´re infected, Eskel!”, you yelled, trying to grab his hand,”If we don´t do something, you will die!”“I am not going to die, so just leave me alone. I don't need you. I never needed you!”, he barked, looking at you with a stern expression. You were taken aback by his words. You knew that he didn't mean it, he didn't know what he was saying. But it still hurt you. 
 Before you could say something more, he was already mounting the horse and running off. You didn't try to follow him. It was worthless. You knew that he would be in Kaer Morhen after you found a potion that would save him. 
You looked at his back one more time, before making your way into the other direction, already knowing who you could ask for help.
A small sigh left your lips,as you finally reached the doors of the keep. You were about to push it open, as the medallion around your neck started shaking. Hastily, you made your way inside. This wasn't the first time this happened today. But this time it was much harsher. 
You didn't see anyone at first. The great hall was completely empty, but you could see plates full of food and tankards filled with ale standing all over the place. Someone was here not long ago. 
Your head shot up, as you heard ruckus coming from the laboratory, seconds later the sound of pots being smashed and tables thrown over. As you finally started running, you could hear a beasty groan. “Fuck.”, you grunted as you heard the voices of Geralt and Vesemir. And as you finally reached the designated room, you peeked through the open door. What you saw almost made you lose your composure.  
Right there, just a few meters in front of you, was Eskel towering over the other two Witchers. But he wasn't himself. Not in the slightest. He had transformed into a wooden beast, his face barely visible, but it was there. 
Mere seconds, after laying your eyes on him, you wanted to storm towards him, but a magical shield was blocking the door. You quickly drew your sword, as you saw what was about to happen. 
Eskel had managed to trap Vesemir, resulting in Geralt lighting up his sword to end it.
As fast as you could, you muttered a spell and lifted your sword. With all your power, you pierced it through the barrier.
You took three big steps, breathing in heavily, knowing that what you were about to do would knock the air out of your lungs. 
And only as you stepped in front of him, lifting your blade to meet his in the air, Geralt had finally noticed your presence. He looked at you perplexed, as your sword clanked against his, the metall hissing from the heat. “What are you doing?”, he asked, not even angry, but genuinely concerned. “You're not going to take him away from me!”, you claimed, as Geralt slowly lowered his sword.
“Please just trust me!”, you urged the white wolf. He only nodded at you, as you quickly turned around, grabbing the small potion from your pocket.
“Eskel?!?!”, you yelled as loud as you could. The beast-turned Man quickly turned around, upon hearing your voice. Vesemir, who had previously been choked, fell to the ground, coughing. “Take care of him!”, you ordered Geralt, who was able to quickly make his way over to the older Witcher, since Eskel´s attention was all on you now. 
“Here goes nothing.”, you muttered under your breath, as you felt a branch pierce through your shoulder. You yelped, as you were lifted into the air, more branches wrapping around your body. You were pushed against a wall, as Eskel leaned closer to you.
“Y/N”, he sputtered, his eyes scanning your form. 
“It's me, Eskel.”, you affirmed, slowly bringing the potion to your mouth to rip the cork off, “You´re going to be alright, my love. Don´t worry.”
Eskel was about to answer, but no words left his mouth, he was just staring at you. You quickly realized that this was your chance, as he was momentarily confused. You lifted your arm, as best as you could and threw the small bottle of potion right into his mouth. He choked on it for a second, not comprehending what had just happened. “I'm sorry in advance.”, you quickly mumbled, before lifting your foot and kicking him in the jaw, in order to make him swallow the potion. 
Your breath hitched for a second, as you didn´t know what was going to happen. Would it work? Would he live?
As you fell to the ground with a grunt, you were pretty sure that it was working. Grabbing your bleeding shoulder, you quickly backed off, as Eskel started to squirm around, an angry scream leaving his lips.
“Y/N?!”, Geralt yelled, as he tried to reach you, but Eskel´s branches were throwing a tantrum, swinging all around the hall.
“Please just work.”, you prayed, but suddenly, all movement stopped. The room was silent for a second, before all the wood surrounding you suddenly started  corroding. You watched with wide eyes, how all the branches coming out of Eskel slowly crumbled away all the way up to his body.  He had stopped moving for a second, but as you stood up and called out for him, the wooden exoskelett rumbled to life. You heard cracking and wood breaking and seconds later, you saw Eskel´s Human body falling out of what looked like a tree stump now.
"Eskel!", you gasped and leaped forward just in time to catch him. His body weight pulled you down with him. He was still unconscious, as you slowly turned him around, resting his head on your lap. Just now, you took a good look at him. His entire body was covered in dirt. Vines and leaves had grown in and around his clothes. The only thing untouched, was his Witcher medallion.
“He´s alive.”
You looked up at Geralt and Vesemir who were now standing in front of you. Vesemir was still leaning on Geralt for support, but apart from that he seemed fine to you.
“You saved his life”, Geralt added. All you could do was nod. Your emotions were slowly coming to the surface now and you realized that you could´ve lost him today. But here he was, laying in your arms unconsciously. 
"Come on.” , Vesemir  patted your shoulder, kneeling down next to you,”Let's get him fixed up. We´ll take care of this”, he lifted his hand to gesture around the completely destroyed room,”later, alright?”
You just nodded again, stepping aside, as Geralt and Vesemir proceeded to lift Eskel up to carry him to his room. As the other Witchers ran into you, you promised them an explanation , but for now, you needed to look after Eskel.
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Your eyes kept falling shut over and over again, as you lay in a chair in front of Eskel´s bed. It had been a few hours since you managed to cure him from the infection. He hadn't woken up since. You tried to stay awake but sleep was gnawing at you, like a hungry aeschna.
“Sorry? Are you Y/N?”
Your eyes opened once more, as you looked over to the door to see who had come to visit you. A young girl was standing in the doorway. Her long blond hair was slightly disheveled and the bottom of her white dress was dirty and ripped open.
“You must be the child surprise.”, you stated, after getting up and bidding her inside.
“Cirilla of Cintra.”, she smiled, as she stepped inside,”Geralt sent me to give you this. He said it would help with your exhaustion.”
You looked at her curiously, as she handed you a small bottle of potion. You gingerly took it and inspected it´s contents. After recognizing the mixture, you quickly downed it in one sip. Mere seconds after, you already felt it working. Your eyes didn´t feel as heavy anymore and your limbs stopped aching a bit.
“Thank you Cirilla.”, you finally said and gifted the young girl a soft smile.  
She only nodded and was about to leave, as you gently grabbed her wrist. She turned around perplexed.
You cleared your throat once more, before finally speaking again:”Geralt told me that…that Eskel was a bit rude with you, upon arriving here at Kaer Morhen.”
“He wasn't exactly the nicest.”, she admitted after you finally let go of her hand.
“I want to apologize for his behavior”, you sighed, rubbing your neck,”He isn't usually like this. He didn't even let me touch him, after he was injured. This infection…it did something to him, changed him.”
Cirilla didn't say anything, but instead stepped closer to the bed, Eskel was lying in. She inspected him carefully, her eyes wandering over his exhausted body. 
“I really hope that he will wake up again. I would like to meet the real Eskel.”, she uttered and turned around to you with a smile. “Yeah, me too.”, you mumbled weakly. You were really missing your soft Witcher. The way he always smiled at you with his big eyes, the way his hands felt on your skin, his lips on yours, his gentle voice, as he mumbled sweet nothing into your ear in the early mornings. You just wanted him to wake up again.
“Hey?”, Ciri asked, pulling you out of your thoughts. She must have noticed how shaken up you were, “He'll be alright. You saved him, right?”
You only nodded, slowly petting her shoulder:”You should go to sleep now. It's late and you must be tired, after all this ruckus.”
“You should get some sleep too.”, she smiled softly before leaving the room. You threw one last glance her way, before the door finally closed and the room was silent again.
At least for a few moments.
Your head shot up, as you heard groaning coming from the bed. That could only mean one thing: Eskel was awake.
You quickly made your way over to the bed and you would be lying if you said, your heart didn't skip a beat. There he was. He was alive and well. His heartbeat going steady and his breath a little shallow, but also very much there. 
As he looked up and his eyes landed on you, you couldn't hold yourself back any longer. you stepped forward, kneeling down on the side of the bed, your arms pulling Eskel into a massive hug.
“Woah there, bug. It's alright, I'm here.”, Eskel affirmed, as you buried your face  in his shoulder,”I'm here with you.” 
“Yeah”, you sniffled, a few lonely tears rolling down your cheeks. You finally parted to get a good look at him. Frankly, he still looked unbelievably tired. Dark circles were prominent under his eyes and you noticed that he moved with a bit of discomfort. “What happened, bug?”, he suddenly asked you, now fully sitting up against the headrest.
“The leshy.”, you mumbled, reaching out for his hand. He gladly intertwined his fingers with yours. “It infected you, after we fought against it.”
“Fuck, I think I remember now.”, he hissed,”I'm so sorry. The things I said, I did. I was such an arsehole, wasn´t I?”
“Well, Ciri certainly thinks so.”, you chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. But Eskel didn't laugh. Instead he lifted his hand to softly grasp your cheek. He gently wiped away your tears, but new ones were already coming, upon feeling his soft touch again.
“I am sorry.”, he said firmly,”Thank you for saving my ass.” “Of course.”, you assured,”I would do anything for you. I love you.” “I love you, bug”, Eskel mumbled, pulling you back into his chest. A small sigh left your lips, after settling against his body. You finally allowed yourself to rest, after so many hours of being completely on edge. Eskel was alive. You did, in fact, save him. 
“Rest.”, you heard him whisper into your ear, as he pulled you closer to his body. His warmth spreading welcoming you, after he pulled the blanket over you.
“You deserve it.”
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cas-kingdom · 10 months
Note
PLS. GERALT TEACHING AKELA TO ICE SKATE 😩
Find the OC version of this fic here.
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The air had been cold all morning, but somehow it was more so as you looked out across the frozen lake. Giggles carried towards you by the wind, soft laughter and teasing remarks from Ciri as she taught Yennefer to ice skate. One part of you longed to go and join them, but the other—
"Y/N."
You glanced over your shoulder. Geralt leant against the axe he'd been cutting wood with. His head tilted, one hand at his hip, he offered a knowing smile. "You can join them, you know."
He had already told you as such, so he knew you knew. Nonetheless, stubbornness ran through your veins like blood, and when your mind was set on something, it was set in stone. Though, Geralt had always considered himself adept at breaking that stone. He had an axe now, after all.
You sniffed and brushed your hair behind your ears, a useless act considering the winter breeze. You turned back to the lake and watched as Yennefer yelled out and slipped, grabbing onto Ciri with a flurry of giggles.
You were long over your aversion to the princess's relationship with Geralt, but this...feeling you had towards Ciri and Yennefer was unfamiliar and unanticipated. The two were obviously close. Ciri seemed to have that effect on people.
"No," you said eventually, "it's alright. Ciri has my skates, anyway."
Geralt shrugged. He dropped the axe and walked towards the lake. "We don't need skates. Come." He stopped by the bank and reached a hand behind him expectantly. When you didn't grasp it, he turned to see you stood in the same spot, unblinking. Geralt dropped his arm and sighed. "Y/N, you love to skate. Come here."
You didn't vocally decide not to listen, but Geralt was well versed in the behaviour of the girl he'd raised. When you crossed your arms over your chest, not defiantly, more unwillingly, he dropped his arm and let a small smile slip onto his face.
"You remember when I first taught you to skate?" he asked, stepping one foot on the lake. He tested it, his boot slipping easily across the smooth surface. "You were four."
You couldn't help but breathe a short laugh. "You mean I taught you."
The Witcher stepped onto the lake, using his arms for balance. He skidded a bit, then turned to face you. "I slipped over once," he reminded you.
"And used four-year-old me to keep you up."
Geralt hummed morosely. Admittedly, that had not been his finest moment. Still. He reached his arm out again and opened his hand. "If you are so good, come and prove it."
There was no hint of competitiveness in his voice, just a discreet encouragement, and you took it with a long sigh and a reluctant smile, trudging over to him and taking his hand. He helped you onto the lake, allowing you to grip his sleeve as you found your footing, and noted fondly that said grip did not slacken even as you both slid slowly along the outskirts of the lake.
Ciri and Yennefer were still far out in the middle, slipping and tripping and laughing until their hearts' content. Somehow, Geralt doubted you wanted to be close to them right now, and not because of your refusal to leave the safety of the lake's edge. He wouldn't discuss it with you until he felt you needed it. He had an idea of what was bothering you, but as long as it wasn't dispiriting you as much as it had when your disapproval had surrounded him, he was sure it would fix itself.
You let go of his sleeve eventually, eyes fixed on the ice as you slid along it. Geralt turned so he was gliding backwards, hands at the ready in case his apparently oh-so-professional child needed some support. You were determined, though, your lack of skates doing nothing to thwart you, and Geralt felt himself relaxing and enjoying the—
"Oh, fuck." The moment he took a single wrong step, everything went to shit. Balance long forgotten, Geralt went into panic mode, arms pinwheeling, feet fighting for traction. You panicked too at first, instinctively attempting to launch forward to catch him lest he fall straight forward, but when you figured out he was in no imminent danger, you straightened with a snort.
"Geralt, you—Geralt—Geralt, you're making it worse!" Your words arrived between barrels of laughter as Geralt continued in the reclamation of his balance. He looked like a newborn deer, its long legs unused to the ground beneath it. You had tears in your eyes and when a burst of hysterics echoed across the lake, you realised Ciri and Yennefer had noticed the spectacle too.
Your laughter died when Geralt did indeed fall forward, though from the look on his face you were sure it was purposeful. Before you could utter a single squeal of anticipation, he lunged towards you, grabbing your shoulders and pushing you down beneath him as he fell. His hands went behind your head to shield the impact but the wind was knocked from you all the same, even more so when the Witcher's tickling hands found your sides.
"Hey!" You could feel the laughter-induced tears on your cheeks freezing, the harsh wind almost as cold as the ice beneath you. Geralt made quick work of boxing you between his arms, poking and prodding and scribbling his fingers across every spot he knew you possessed.
"You may be better than me at ice skating," he ground out breathlessly, "but here is something I will always best you at."
"Stop ihit, you bihig lump!" You pushed at his face and Geralt grunted with his newly blocked vision. Seconds later, a heavy force ploughed into his back and he was knocked off course.
"Attack!" Ciri yelled. She grabbed piles of snow from the bank and shoved as much as her hands would allow down his jacket.
Geralt howled. "Fucking fuck, Cirilla!"
Yennefer leaned down and extended an arm towards you, still on your back and struggling for breath. You hesitated but took it. You stood up slowly, slipping once or twice, but made it safely into Yennefer’s arms. Yennefer held you close, a grin on her face as she watched the princess and the Witcher wrestle, and you found yourself leaning into her. Yennefer leant her chin on your head, and you relaxed. As always, there was never a need to worry.
Your family was too tight-knit to ever leave anyone out.
Witcher Masterpost
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Text
Author's Note- I am back after a while! And this turned out more like Daemon x Daughter!Reader but I love the short interaction between Aemond and (Y/N).
Thank you and Enjoy your reading!
Rage of a Mother
Aemond Targaryen x Reader
Summary- (Y/N) was Daemon's eldest daughter, married to Aemond Targaryen to ease the conflicts going on between the Blacks and the Greens. But only did the start of Civil War broke her more and more...
Tag List- @eliseline, @little-moonbeam-666, @blackhoodlea, @omgsuperstarg, @shopping, @lizlovecraft, @dayane, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26, @all-things-fandomstuck, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @morganastrucker, @shrexy, @helloitsshitzulover, @daringboba, @minaxcarter, @b-tchymoon
GIF Credits to @laenasvelaryon
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The rain was heavy, even in King's Landing. The restless winds could be heard in the thick walls of Red Keep. The shadows of the curtains moved with the hard winds.
(Y/N) leaned back in the rocking chair, hugging herself while waiting for her husband to return from Storm's End. She felt nausea while waiting for Aemond to return.
Her family is going on a civil war. Her father and stepmother and step-siblings were in Dragonstone, while she sat here, surrounded by her good family and her husband and her daughter.
Only Visenya was the light of happiness in the present darkness of (Y/N)'s life. A child of 6 moons, she loved to be by her mother's side, giggling and brightening up (Y/N)'s days.
(Y/N) could hear the heavy steps and the opening of their chambers' double door. Knowing who it was, (Y/N) decided not to move from her place near the fireplace, instead caressing her daughter's silver hair.
Aemond moved silently, placing his dark coat on the chair near his study table, he moved to sit beside (Y/N). He placed a careful hand on Visenya's back, while rubbing soothing circles on (Y/N)'s forearm.
"What happened in Storm's End?" She voiced her thoughts, a fraction of them at least. She saw Aemond take a deep breath, the gears of his mind churning. "Aemond, what happened?" She asked strictly.
"Vhagar did it," Aemond said, absent-mindedly. (Y/N) blinked blankly, frowning slightly. "Vhagar did what?" (Y/N)'s anxiousness was reaching the skies as Aemond's silence prolonged. "Aemond, are you going to answer me?" (Y/N) whisper-yelled.
"I killed Lucerys."
The ground beneath (Y/N)'s feet slipped away. Her lilac widened as she stared at her husband with shock. Tears brimmed in her eyes, her grip on her daughter tightening protectively.
"Rhaenyra will not let us live in peace anymore," she whispered silently. Her eyes scanned the entire room, trying to tame the storm in her body. She stood up and walked to Visenya's crib, carefully placing her in the crib.
"You don't know what you have done, Aemond," (Y/N) said, panic taking over her. "They will not harm you, my love. Neither will they hurt Visenya. I will make sure of it," Aemond said, walking to embrace (Y/N).
"Rhaenyra would stop at nothing, now," (Y/N) whispered into Aemond's tunic. "I will protect you and Vis at any cost."
Only that Aemond didn't know what was yet to come for him and his wife.
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The castle was in chaos, knights running around, trying to find the assassins of the young princess. Guards were positioned to guard Prince Aemond's chamber where all the royals sat in a complete silence.
(Y/N) sat beside the wooden coffin which held the dead body of her daughter. A single, crystal tear had slipped down her eyes, staining her pale skin. Her hands curled up in fist, sitting on her lap as she looked far away at Visenya's crib. Only physically there, while her mind wandered somewhere else.
Aemond sat beside her, a hand on the hilt of his sword while the other rested on the wood. His keen eye was fixed on the coffin, rage swirled in him. Rage directed towards the Blacks and more towards himself.
Helaena sat on a chair nearby the pair, cradling his youngest born while a solemn look was engraved on her face. Aegon, for a first time in a while, looked a bit sober as he sat four chairs away from Helaena.
Alicent sat behind Aemond, a hand on his back in a way to provide him some sort of comfort in this moment of sorrow.
"It is time for her to go, my children," Alicent spoke up after a while, her voice lowered than usual. Aemond nodded, his jaw tightening as his eye watered.
"(Y/N)," Aemond called softly, his voice cracking slightly as he took in his wife's appearance. Empty eyes, pale skin, deadpan face. (Y/N) blinked once, for the first time moving her gaze from the crib to something else; or someone else.
"You go," (Y/N) said, her voice rough after not speaking anything for a whole day. Before Aemond could argue, (Y/N) stood up, dusting off her black dress. "I have another important thing to attend to," She said blankly.
More important than your own daughter's funeral?
Both Aemond and Alicent wanted to ask this but both were aware of the consequences of asking it. Aemond wasn't sure how (Y/N) was feeling on the inside. Meanwhile, Alicent was silent because in a way, she knew what important thing (Y/N) had; and truthfully, if anything like this would have happened to her she would have done that as well.
(Y/N) leaned down to place a kiss on the coffin, a final goodbye to her 6½ moons old daughter. Caressing the wood, she whispered her goodbye and a promise.
(Y/N) watched as Aemond and Ser Criston carried the coffin on their shoulders, walking down to the shore to burn her body with dragon fire. Alicent and Helaena hugged (Y/N) before leaving to follow the coffin.
Once everyone were gone, (Y/N) changed into her riding pants and tunic. Strapping the small sword her father had given, (Y/N) walked to the Dragon pit. She could hear Daehna's growls as she closed towards her den.
In the darkness, Daehna's gold toned scales shone dauntingly in the torch's fire. The black slit of her eyes, surrounded by the brightest of fire, narrowed in rage.
She let out an angry growl, clearly in agony of her rider's pain. She lowered herself to let (Y/N) step up on her, sitting down on her.
Daehna spread her wings, walking out in the clear sky. "Sōvegon nyke naejot Zaldrīzesdōron," (Fly me to Dragonstone) it was a simple command, followed immediately as Daehna rose up in the air, already flying towards her rider's desired destination.
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Daemon stood on the shore of Dragonstone, the coast clean with only him in attendance. The news had traveled to Dragonstone from King's Landing and Daemon was left in agony, for his daughter.
He had commanded the death of the King's son but instead, those assassins mistook his own granddaughter for the King's offspring.
Daemon heard a familiar growl of dragon, Daehna. He had expected (Y/N) to show up, either in rage or in pain, and he was about to find out which side of his daughter had come back.
He turned around to find his daughter walking towards him, her hand clutching on the hilt of the small sword he had given her when she turned ten and six namedays old.
"(Y/N)," he called, only to be met by a glare. "Why?" She asked instead, stopping a few meters away from her father. "I apologize for your daughter's death," Daemon said softly, taking a few steps toward her.
"Murdered. You ordered her death. You murdered my daughter," (Y/N) hissed, eyes watering as she thought of her daughter's bloodied body, throat split opened mercilessly. "It wasn't supposed to be Visenya, daughter. It was supposed to be one of Aegon's," Daemon said, instantly regretting it as he saw (Y/N)'s hand clinched in fist.
"Out of anyone in our family, I had least expected you. I feel disgusted to call you my father now." Each word which left (Y/N)'s throat was a stab to Daemon's heart.
"Lucerys was killed by your husband, (Y/N). Rhaenyra grieved her son," Daemon said softly, trying to place his hand on her elbow but she stepped back, repulsed. "And I grieved him. But I see no grief in your eyes for your granddaughter; for your blood," (Y/N) growled, turning around on her heels.
Daemon saw Daehna move, lowering down her head to align it parallel to the ground. She opened her mouth, making Daemon close his eyes. If it was supposed to be his death than he won't fight it, not after what he had done, but he felt no fire only a threatening roar.
"Now, there will be a war, Daemon," Daemon flinched at his name, while (Y/N) continued. "And I will make sure your wife will regret every bit of it; even if it means my death."
Daemon watched as (Y/N) and Daehna disappear in the skies, leaving him behind with tears and pain. His favorite child had announced a war against him and his family, clearly announcing her fidelity.
Daemon kneeled down, letting the waves wash away some of his sorrows as he cried, grieving both the death of his granddaughter and the death of (Y/N)'s innocence.
Gone was his daughter and gone was their bond.
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shanastoryteller · 2 years
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happy pride!! geraskier? 🏳️‍🌈
Yennefer doesn't think anything of the silver ring on Geralt's left hand. He's a witcher, for fuck's sake.
She keeps not thinking of it until she stumbles on him at a pub, which wouldn't be too strange except there's a semi-talented bard belting out a tune, jaunty and uplifting enough that the whole place is rowdy with it.
"I didn't know you liked music," she says, sliding into the chair next to him with a goblet full of mead.
He doesn't seem surprised at her presence, but he never does. He almost smiles at her, the closest he gets when they're still clothed. "I don't really have a choice."
She's still trying to puzzle that out when the bard careens towards their table and plops himself in Geralt's lap, continuing to play and sing from his new position.
Yennefer freezes, waiting for Geralt to shove him aside or start yelling or even draw his sword. Instead he smirks, pointedly turning his head away to drink his beer. The bard goes so far to lean back into his chest, his head falling over Geralt's shoulder and singing directly into his ear.
The volume can't be comfortable if nothing else, but Geralt doesn't so much as flinch. Neither do the other patrons, laughing and shouting and no one screaming obscenities' or going green at the sight of a witcher.
For a moment, Yennefer almost thinks that she's not speaking to Geralt at all, but she dismisses the thought just as quickly. Her magic would sense if he were a doppler or under a glamour.
The bard only stands once he's finished, bowing to all the clapping patrons and accepting several beers when he refuses an encore - or a second encore, based on what several people are yelling.
People eventually dissipate and the bard drops into the seat next to Geralt. "Who's the pretty lady?" he asks, taking Geralt's beer instead of any of the full ones littering the table.
"She could eat you," he says but the bard just laughs.
She notices a familiar silver ring on his left finger and her eyes drop to Geralt's hand. They're identical.
"Sorry that he's so rude," the bard says, holding out his hand. "I'm Jaskier. You're gorgeous."
She doesn't take his hand, instead slowly moving her gaze between them. "How do you two know each other?"
Geralt sighs. "Don't-"
"Carnally," he says, "physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, metaphysically-"
"Do you even know what that means?" Geralt asks.
"Alchemically," Jaskier continues, "holistically-"
"I'm going to divorce you," he says, which at least answers that question.
Jaskier shrugs. "You can try. How did you two meet?"
Yennefer stills. She's not pleased with being the other women, but she's not about to get in the middle of anyone's marital business, even Geralt's, so she'll just agree with with whatever lie Geralt tells.
"She put a curse on me and now we sleep together," he says.
Jaskier looks her over, but less like a jealous lover and how she's used to men looking at her. "Nice."
He holds his hand up for a hand five which Geralt ignores. Jaskier pouts.
A very pretty barmaid comes over, holding a cup of the same mead Yennefer is drinking. "Hello, Jaskier," she says shyly, the lines around her eyes taking nothing away from the lush curves of breast and thigh. "You have such a lovely voice. I'd love to hear more of it, later, if you're free."
Jaskier looks to Geralt with a raised eyebrow. Geralt shrugs.
"No time like the present, my lady," he says, bouncing to his feet. He takes the mead in one hand and settles the other on her hip, leading her toward the stairs.
Yennefer stares. "You're just going to let him do that?"
He shrugs again. "You can sleep with him too if you want. He's the one that taught me the thing with my tongue that you like so much."
Interesting, but not currently her focus. "Why didn't you tell me you were married?"
How the hell is a witcher married? To a bard, of all people?
"You didn't ask," he answers, and then says nothing else.
Okay, just for that she is going to sleep with his husband.
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artistsfuneral · 9 months
Text
The Road to Kaer Morhen - p.5
(canon typical violence below, mild)
Jaskier's breath caught in his throat and made him stumble. Unable to intervene he had to watch Aiden cast the familiar blue shock wave at the group of soldiers behind them. At once the men in front were thrown back, crashing into their fellow soldiers and creating a loud ruckus that made Jaskier's ears ring. Wind caught his hair, blinding him momentarily, as he cursed Aiden for his stupidity.
While the burst of Aard had certainly helped them to gain some distance from the soldiers, they could just have split up earlier than planned, to achieve the exact same thing. It took the soldiers hardly a minute before they were up and running again, this time yelling orders at each other about Aiden not being the White Wolf, but another witcher and therefore their new priority. Aiden who, despite him insisting on the opposite, was not yet fully recovered and still struggled with both his balance and restricted vision. Him being their primary target was a very bad, not good thing that would definitely lead to some unavoidable consequences. Jaskier cursed again, grabbed the witcher by his knotted sleeve and tucked him forcefully to the left, where the street parted into a busy crossroad. “Why on earth would you do that?!” He demanded to know, dodging a farmer's cart by a hair's length and pulling Aiden with him. The Cat could only look at him bewildered, Jaskier's worries completely flying past his head.
With a loud groan, the bard realized that Aiden, like every other damned witcher he had met before, had absolutely no sense for protecting himself. Jaskier had no idea, why he had thought otherwise in the first place. In that regard they all proved to be idiots again and again.
Finally reaching the market after what felt like forever, Jaskier zigzagged through the groups of people until he couldn't see the soldiers anymore. “Alright, we're splitting up now. You're of greater importance to them, because those prejudiced piss pots think you are stronger than me.” Aiden raised his eyebrows at that, but Jaskier didn't give him time to argue. “So don't get caught, alright? Be as inconspicuous as possible, disguise yourself if you can. I mean it, Aiden, I am not walking up that mountain on my own, because I will perish of boredom if you're not with me.”
“Whoa, there, shouldn't I be the one that worries about you?” The witcher asked, with a lopsided grin on his face. “You are a tiny, little human, after all.” Jaskier took a deep breath and let the imaginary weight fall off his shoulders. He knew he tended to be overprotective over his friends and family, but Aiden was right, he shouldn't worry too much about the other man. Cats were known for their excellent stealth. He'd probably scale the next building and hide away in the shadows of the rooftops until it was time for the two of them to meet at the other side of the city, were it adjoined the forest.
Feeling a little better about their situation, he grinned back at the witcher, “See you at sun-high.” And with one last wave, he dove into the crowds.
From then on everything felt a little bit easier. He was back in his element. Passing errand boys, dodging groups of chattering wives and stepping out of the way of heavily laden errand boys, Jaskier easily put more and more distance between him in the troop of soldiers, who's redanian armor made them stand out like donkeys among sheep. It was actually quite funny to watch them, how they stumbled around, fishing for some sort of authority the didn't have in a country that wasn't theirs. A troop of redanian soldiers against a single kaedweni innkeeper was one thing, but seeing them trying and failing to shoo away the three old women that were gossiping in front of a young lad that looked somewhat similar to Jaskier was the height of entertainment.
Despite his colorful outfit and obvious lute bag, hardly anyone spared him more than a glance. No matter what Geralt said, walking through a city with just enough confidence to look like you belonged there, but not too much to stand out, was an art form in itself. Truth be told, Jaskier might've only believed so because it took him years to perfect this skill. He was an expert in it now, though and when one of his pursuers came a bit too close to him, he calmly kept on walking, passing the man with just two other people between them. He followed the natural flow of people for a while, discreetly taking down every Wanted Notice with his name on it. Every now and then he tried to look up the rafters and roofs of houses that seemed rather climbable, without appearing too suspicious, but he never saw a hint of his Cat.
Maybe that was for the better, he willed his anxiousness to quieten. If he wasn't here, that only meant that he was already waiting somewhere in the forest. Sun-high wasn't that far away anyways.
He helped a young mother by picking up the knot doll her child had dropped and exchanged a couple of pleasant words while they walked closer towards the forest. Saying his goodbyes with a warm smile, Jaskier stepped off the main street and into a much smaller alley that lead to a few single story houses. He took his time to pet a tricolored barn cat, just as promised, before slowly but surely merging into the slim shadows. More and more aware of his bearings, he crept along the walls of houses and sheds, turning around and pretending to take a piss against a bush when a merchant rode by. Crude but effective. The only thing left that separated him from his goal was a wide dirt rode that carved around the forest.
Standing in the shade of a wooden canopy Jaskier remained still as a statue, eyes scanning through the underbrush, ears strained for any noise that didn't belong. The problem with that being, that everything inside a forest made noise and trying to figure out which once were normal sounds and which weren't usually fell into Geralt's domain. With his witcher hearing he could not only make out a rustling bush, but also listen for a heartbeat and identify it as either animal, human or monster. There was also the fact that Jaskier's sense of smell couldn't pick up anything than the stink of fox and the giant dung heap nearby.
In the end he just had to trust his instincts. And his instincts were telling him to worry.
It didn't take long for him to realize why.
It wasn't the forest that was off, it was the road. The sun was high in the sky, just starting to change from comfortably warm to hot, the market was full with all kinds of people and yet the road was empty. No wagons, no riders, not a single person to be seen. Someone was blocking off the path. Someone that held no authority over a crowd but could easily scare away any passerby. It could be a trap of course, but Jaskier had spent enough time singing in the barracks of Redania to know how they usually operated. The bard had always had a strong dislike for soldiers. Few of them were decent people these days. There was hardly anything knightly or chivalrous about them, as if they forgot what they were fighting for. Unlike them, Jaskier hadn't allowed himself to be controlled by his disdain and had followed his orders properly. Singing and performing in the barracks, listening in to every conversation that would meet his ears. He had learned a lot, almost too much, about how the soldiers really worked behind their pretenses. Cordoning off an area just big enough people on the outside wouldn't make out the noise their prisoners made when they were beat to a pulp, was certainly one of their favorites. There was an advantage though, Jaskier thought as he emerged from the canopy and walked right into the forest, nobody would be able to hear them screaming either. The only thing that kept him from smiling was the knowledge that whatever they had done to his Cat Witcher wouldn't be pretty.
And it really wasn't.
The camp, counting six tents and four horses, was built around an old tree, its trunk wide enough to withstand the hissing and spitting Cat Witcher that was chained to it. His linen shirt was torn during a fight, deep irregular gashes cut through his chest, the witcher's blood soaking into his clothes and the bandages underneath. Aiden was screaming with rage, struggling against his bindings without any sense to it, throwing his head from left to right, snapping his teeth at everyone that dared to come too close. His fangs were bloody, successful. To Jaskier's eyes it was almost alarmingly obvious that Aiden's aggression was mainly caused by pure fear and pain. The witcher's instincts had clearly taken over. He didn't even react to the bard when said one entered the camp. Five soldiers, one archer, turned towards him.
Oh I know. I know you want Jaskier to fight, but please take note, should you choose this, the next chapter will be detailed and violent. (and 100% skipable of course! I know not everyone likes to read that sort of stuff, don't worry, I got you!) The author craves blood.
Negotiating is always an option to keep this pg.
Also there's now a relationship bar in the drawing, so: Aiden/Lambert is set in stone for this fic, but Aiden/Jaskier or Aiden/Jaskier/Lambert is up to you, I will give you multiple chances for this, so don't worry.
please like and reblog if you voted✨🌿🌼✨
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Told my brother about J and A hiding in the crowd of the market and he said „Erstmal ein Marktfrühstück und eine Weinschorle bestellen.“ and I was so tempted.
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catierambles · 6 months
Text
Feral Instincts Ch.19
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Pairing: The Rogue’s Gallery (Geralt, Syverson, Mike, August Walker, Walter Marshall) x Stephanie Daniels (OFC)
WC 2812
Warnings: hoo boy smutty smutty smut smut smut (and Sy and August bickering like an old married couple)
Stephanie lay in bed, her back to the door. She felt each of them stand outside of it for a few minutes in turn before walking away. They didn't knock, didn't ask to be let in. She felt their wolves at times, too, their claws scratching at the door, their low whine being heard through the wood. 
The howls were the worst. Actual howls, not the sound in her head when Jordan had tried to Call to her. The notes were long, wavering, sorrowful. It made her eyes close tight, her own wolf wanting to answer.
They didn't love her. They loved her wolf.
Jordan should have just killed her. It would have been more merciful than this.
The tiny electric buzzes that had been arcing through her muscles intensified and felt like she was vibrating at a low frequency. Finally, she stopped fighting it, stopped pushing it away, and the change came swiftly. Muscle and bone shifted and slid, rearranging into something alien.
She laid there when it was over, taking in a deep breath and letting it out slowly before resting her head on her paws. She heard them outside the door again and her head picked up, looking at it.
"Steph?" Walter. "You shifted, love. All on your own. I'm so proud of you."
"Doll, we…" Sy. "Fuck. Hinges are on the inside, so I can't knock the pins out."
"Step aside." August.
"You ain't kickin' the damn door down! I used three inch wood screws on all the deadbolts, so it ain't in the jamb, it's in the frame. You'll do nothin' but hurt yourself and damage the house."
"Why the hell would you use three inch wood screws on interior deadbolts?"
"Force'a habit." He said and she looked over as Geralt climbed in through the open window, his claws sliding back under his fingernails.
He went over to her, kneeling by the bed and running his hand over her head, his thumb smoothing between her eyes. She sighed again, pillowing her head in his hand and relaxing on the bed as he rubbed at her ear, his other hand running over her side.
They didn’t love her. They loved her wolf.
“Steph.” Geralt said and she looked at him. Sy and August were still bickering outside of the room and Geralt rolled his eyes, pushing up and going to the door, unlocking it and swinging it open.
“How in the hell did you--” Sy started.
“Scaled the outside wall.” He said with a shrug and moved aside, ushering them inside with a gesture.
"Love." Walter said as he looked at her and she gave a low whine, burying her face in between the pillows.
"Baby we can feel your pain." Sy said but she didn't respond in any of her limited options. His phone went off his pocket and he scowled, digging into his basketball shorts and pulling it out, putting it on speaker. "What, Mikey?"
"The hell did you do to her?!" He yelled and she picked her head up. "I can't feel her anymore!"
"Slow down, Mike." Sy said, "What do you mean you can't feel her anymore?"
"I want to talk to her right now!"
"She ain't built for speech right now, but you're on speaker." Sy said.
"Steph, I know you can't answer me but I--you were there and then you were gone. Felt like a sucker punch."
"When did it happen?" August asked.
"A couple hours ago, maybe? I waited to see if she would come back but she didn't."
"Right around the time that…"
"Yeah." August said with a sigh, "Mike, Stephanie is going through something right now. She's having some doubts and is over-thinking things."
"Doubts about what?!"
"How we feel about her." Walter said, "She posed the question to Sy and August of would we still love her if she wasn't a wolf."
"Of course we fucking would!" Mike exclaimed. "I mean, I would. I can't speak for you guys. I mean, fuck! Look at her! The moment Sy brought her into the house I knew she was it for me! Don't know how I formed a complete damn sentence! Shit. It wouldn't have mattered if she hadn't been infected and found Sy for help, or if we had come across her and Lewis camping. We would have gotten her away from him as soon as humanly fucking possible because he's a goddamn Feral and I would have tasted dirt from my jaw being on the goddamn ground." He stopped, giving a sigh. "Steph, I get it. I get the over-thinking. You know how many times I wondered why the hell you were bothering with me when you have them? Would you have even gone for me if I didn't meet you how I did? I get it. I do. But all it takes is you holding me and I realize it doesn't matter.
We can't change how we met, we can't change the circumstances of us all coming together. The how of it doesn't matter, just the outcome. I love you, Steph, and your wolf. Would I still love you if you hadn't been infected? Fuck yes! I didn't know you before this, but I get the feeling you've always been caring, and warm, and loving, but ready to throw hands if anyone hurt someone you cared about. You becoming a wolf just turned those traits up to eleven. You would have always been my Alpha, even if you couldn't shift. I love you, Stephanie." Her form twisted, her limbs reforming and the fur retreating and she covered her face with her hands, sobbing into them. "I can feel you again."
"You got through to her, Mikey." Sy said.
“I’m half tempted to have one of you guys come and get me, but I know I’ll see her tomorrow.” Mike said, “Don’t ever doubt that we love you, Steph.” They said their goodbyes and Sy hung up the phone, setting it down on the dresser. Walter slid onto the bed, pulling her against his chest and she clung to him, twisting her fingers in his shirt as she sobbed into him.
“I’ll stay with her tonight.” He said, pressing his lips to her forehead.
“Take care of her, Walt.” Sy said and he nodded. They approached the bed in turn, turning her face to them and kissing her, pouring every ounce of emotion they had for her into it. Once they were gone, the door closed behind them, Walter pushed his fingers through her hair, tilting her face up to him. She still hiccupped slightly, but the tears had stopped and he pressed his lips to hers, parting them gently as his hand traced down her bare back, pulling her closer.
“Walter.” She sighed as he pulled away and he rolled them so he was over her, his legs tangled with hers as he kissed her again, parting only so long as to pull his shirt over his head before taking her lips again.
“My Mate.” He whispered between kisses, ducking his head under her chin to mouth along her throat. “My beautiful, wonderful, amazing Mate.” Parting her legs with a knee, he reached between them, pushing his sleep pants down and taking himself in his hand. His eyes locked to hers as he ran himself over her a couple times before aligning them. Her breath hitched and a low moan left his lips as he sank into her. “Fuck.”
“I love you.” She whimpered and he kissed her, starting a slow and steady pace that made a shiver race down his spine. Her hands held either side of his jaw as his fingers curled into the bed, their breathing passing between them in pants and heavy moans. He didn't rush it, taking his time with her, going still at moments to just bask in the feel of her wrapped around him until she urged him to move again. Her hips tilted up to meet him as she crested over her release and his eyes rolled back behind his lids as a short groan left his lips at the feeling. He stayed hard inside her even as his own release ripped through him and it didn't take long before he started moving again, never wanting to stop feeling her sliding over him and gripping him so tight.
"My Mate." He panted, feeling the beads of sweat roll down his back as he continued rocking into her. "I love you."
"Walter, I--fuck." Her eyes closed, tears leaking from the corners and he kissed them away. "I love you so much. I love how you feel inside me. I'm yours, my Mate."
"Fuck." He groaned, resisting the urge to go faster. She pulled him down, sobbing against his lips as he kept his slow and steady pace and it wasn't long before she came again, her hands curling around his hips, nails digging into his skin. The feel of it brought him for the second time and he gave a choked shout as it ran through him stronger than the first.
"Please." She begged, chanting the word as she clung to him and he gathered her in his arms, pressing his hand against her tailbone as he started rocking into her faster, her legs curling around his thighs. "Don't stop. Fuck, I love you. Please don't stop." Fire burned up his spine and his eyes closed tight, starting to grunt against her skin as he buried his face in her neck. Claws pricked at his back hard enough to where he knew she left marks on him and he rolled over so she was above him, planting his feet on the bed and thrusting up into her. Her claws tore at the sheets and she sat up, her hands pressed to his stomach as she started to move with him, rocking her hips against him as he vanished into her in waves. Looking between them, he watched as they were joined again and again.
"Fuck." He gasped, his head falling back to the pillows. He took her hands in his, entwining their fingers palm to palm, giving her something to hold onto and push against as they moved against each other.
"I'm gonna--" She came for a third time with a shout, pressing down so they were joined fully as she convulsed around him, her hands clenching in his. His eyes went wide and his mouth fell open in a silent shout as he joined her again, stars dancing in his sight.
They stayed still for a long while, still intimately locked together, their fingers entwined. The bedroom door swung open and Sy leaned in the doorway before going over to the bed and sliding his hand over her stomach, capturing her lips in a kiss when she looked up at him.
"You're a mess, baby." He mumbled against her lips. "Walt took good care of you, did his job well." His lips pressed to her jaw, tasting the sweat on her skin. "I'm gonna take her to get cleaned up. Unless you have any objections?" Walter could only shake his head, unable to form words. Sy picked her up, looping his arm under her knees and she whimpered as Walter slipped from her, feeling his spend start to leak from between her legs. He carried her from the room and into the bathroom, sitting her down on the sink as he got undressed before starting the shower, picking her up again and carrying her under the spray.
Her legs were weak and unsteady as he set her down, but he supported her with an arm around her waist as he set about washing her hair, his fingers moving gently over her scalp and through the strands. Her body was next and he washed her with equally gentle movements, her fingers curling against his biceps as he washed between her legs.
"You don't know how beautiful you are, baby." He whispered, "How much I--we--love you."
"Markus." She whimpered and he groaned against her.
"Fuck, baby." He said, "I know Walt just melted your brain, but I--"
"Please." She said, looking up at him with a nod and he held the side of her jaw, stooping at the shoulders to kiss her as he turned them, pressing her against the wall of the shower. Lifting her, she wrapped her legs around his waist and clung to him as he reached between them. She whimpered, her eyes closing tight as he pushed into her, still overly sensitive from her time with Walter. He started moving almost immediately with a steady rock of his hips.
"Love you so fuckin' much." He panted against her. Water flowed over them from the showerhead and he pressed his forehead to hers, looking into her eyes. He kissed her, holding the side of her jaw as his lips moved over hers and she held onto him tightly, holding the back of his head with her arms resting on his shoulders, nails moving through the heavy stubble covering his scalp. "Think you can come for me, baby? Just once, that's all I want. I just want to feel you come apart for me once."
"Don't stop." She whimpered and he nodded, panting against her lips as he kissed her again.
"That's it, baby, you're doin' so good." He whispered, "That's my good girl."
"You're so big, Alpha." She whimpered, starting to move with him, and he groaned again, his jaw clenching.
"Shit, doll, you don't know what you do to me." He said, "You take me so perfectly, baby, feel so fuckin' good around me. That's right, baby, just like that, you keep movin' against me just like that. That's it, sugar." She started to clench around him, her eyes closing tight. "Open your eyes for me, I wanna see you. C'mon baby, open your eyes." Her eyes opened again and he looked into them, pressing his forehead tight against hers as he held the back of her neck. "That's it, just a little further, baby. You're doin' so good, takin' me so well." He kissed her just as she came, holding her tight as she shook in his arms, his heart pounding in his chest as she clenched and quivered around him.
His breath was heavy in her ear and it didn’t take long for him to reach his own release with a groan, twitching inside her, warmth settling in her lower stomach.
"I swear to god, if Geralt or August try anything when we leave this bathroom, I'm neutering them." She said and he gave a weak chuckle, pressing his lips to her temple.
"Fuck." He sighed, looping an arm around her waist as her feet dropped to the floor, a small noise leaving her lips as he pulled from her. Sy was still hard, but then sex with them was usually an all night (or day) affair. Must be a wolf thing as Mike was the same way. Jordan hadn't been, oddly enough, but she wasn't going to mull over why that might have been. Not only were her neurons not firing on all cylinders right now, but if she thought about the times she had sex with Jordan, she was likely to get ill.
Sy helped her wash again before turning off the shower and drying her off quickly with a towel, wrapping it around her and one around his hips before picking her up again and carrying her from the bathroom and back to the bedroom. Walter was still there, dressed again, clean sheets on the bed with the dirty ones stuffed into the laundry basket. He laid her down before climbing on the bed behind her, looping an arm around her waist and pulling her back against his chest as Walter laid on his side, wrapping his fingers around her hand resting between them.
"Get some rest, doll." Sy whispered in her ear, "Gonna need your strength."
"I'm going to have to call out of work tomorrow, aren't I." She made it a statement, not a question, and both men chuckled in a way that made her thighs clench together.
"Probably." Walter said.
"Get a couple hours rest and I'll fuck you while Walt touches you. Would you like that?" Sy asked and she bit down on her lower lip.
"I think she wants that now." Walter said, his thumb moving over her lip pulling it from between her teeth. He moved the pad back and forth over her lip before dipping it into her mouth, his breath catching as her lips sealed around it and she sucked on it gently.
"Sleep first, baby girl." Sy said, nuzzling into the back of her neck, but the hard ridge of him was pressed against her and he moved his hips a little, his arm squeezing around her waist. "Then we'll satisfy our Alpha."
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ohgodsalazarwhy · 8 months
Text
Lambert fucked up. He watched Eskel's expression turn from neutral to stormy, not all at once but slowly like dark thunderclouds crawling over a jagged horizon. "I didn't mean that," Lambert said quickly, as if he could outrun the coming torrent.
Eskel rose, hands flat on the table as he stared Lambert down. There was a growing static in the air around him, chaos fluttering like the wings of bats. It made Lambert's head hurt, he'd never been magically gifted like Geralt much less Eskel, and too much Chaos in the air could make him feel hungover.
"You meant it," Eskel said, his voice the rolling thunder from the dark cloud that were rapidly overtaking them both.
"It was a fucking joke you humourless bastard!" Lambert snapped, scrambling backwards and nearly tripping over a crooked bench. Before he could get any further Eskel raised one hand as fast as lightening. Lambert tensed, waiting for an Aard or Yrden, perhaps even an Axii. Instead Eskel cast Quen and a golden bubble popped into existence around him.
Lambert was stunned into silence at first. Quen was one of the first signs they learned as initiates, but the hardest to master. For one it often had to be anchored to you or something you were touching. Lambert could cast Quen around himself and anyone he physically touched. Stronger users, like Geralt, could make the Quen explode or apply it as a thin, nearly invisible veneer around them.
Eskel, it seemed, could project it. Lambert tried to push through the shield and found it immovable. He kicked it and swore as he stubbed his toe. Lambert tried to draw one of his swords but found the bubble was neither tall enough or wide enough to pull his blade from the scabbard. Casting Aard or Igni would backfire spectacularly. He wasn't that dumb.
"Just going to keep me here all night?" He yelled at Eskel, his form shimmering and golden outside the shield. "Real fucking mature, you rancid cock!". Lambert tried to ram his shoulder into the shield but it didn't so much as shudder with the impact. Lambert, however, felt a bit dazed.
"You can't keep this up forever!" Lambert yelled again.
"I don't have to," Eskel said, his expression was calm once more. He had his hand up and fingers displayed in a held Quen, pointing at Lambert. He wasn't just casting it he was maintaining it, using constant Chaos to feed the shield. It made it strong but it also meant even Eskel had to run out of energy sooner rather than later.
He looked awfully smug, though. At least from what Lambert could see. "You're a fucking coward! Afraid of a little brawl? Come on, it's not like either of us can get any uglier!"
Eskel snorted and shook his head, not rising to the bait.
Lambert took a deep breath, it was getting warm in the bubble. He felt like...like he wasn't getting enough oxygen... It hit him all at once. The bubble was impermeable. Completely. There was no fresh air coming in. "Oh you son of a bitch!" Lambert exploded and threw himself around in the bubble, gasping for breath as each inhale became less and less satisfying. Eskel wouldn't kill him but he sure knew how to make a man suffer for a slip of the tongue.
"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Lambert gasped, falling to his knees as the world rushed up to meet him. All at once fresh air, fresh cool air, flooded into his lungs with the next gasp. Lambert collapsed and rolled onto his back, heaving for each breath like he'd just run the Killer.
"Now was that so hard?" Eskel asked as he sat back down and picked up his hand of Gwent cards. "It's your turn, by the way?"
"Was that a little harsh?" Geralt asked dispassionately from the head of the table.
Lambert wheezed and crawled back up to sit across from Eskel, fervently avoiding his gaze from behind his own hand of cards.
"I don't know, Lambert, was it too harsh?" Eskel asked it with a tone that implied genuine concern, but his eyes betrayed him. He was laughing at him, the bastard.
Lambert shook his head instead of saying anything, conserving all his precious air. After all, it could have been much worse. Eskel could have kicked him out of his bed for the rest of the Winter.
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bi-bard · 1 year
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I Slithered Here from Eden Just to Sit Outside Your Door - Geralt of Rivia Imagine [The Witcher]
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Title: I Slithered Here from Eden Just to Sit Outside Your Door
Pairing: Geralt of Rivia X Reader
Based On: From Eden
Word Count: 1,488 words
Warning(s): none
Summary: Geralt keeps crossing paths with (Y/n). What started as a collection of coincidences soon shifts into something very different. The only problem is that one of them doesn't even want to acknowledge that said "shift" happened.
Author's Note: I don't know if I've written for The Witcher before. Which is funny because I've watched it twice.
HOZIER [2014] WRITING CHALLENGE MASTERLIST
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The first time I saw Geralt never felt significant.
We had both simply found ourselves in the same place at the same time.
We had both been in the same tavern.
I think it have been stranger if I hadn't noticed him. He was far from the most discrete person. It looked like he had stopped bothering to try.
We didn't interact that day. We sat on opposite sides of the building, not sharing a single word. I spared a few glances, but I didn't catch him doing the same. I would find out later that he had in fact been doing the same. He was simply more subtle at that than I ever was.
I never truly expected to see him again.
But there he was again.
A different day, a different tavern, a different town.
Yet there we were again. Quietly sitting on opposite ends of the building. Quietly sparing looks toward each other without a word or indication that we acknowledged the other's presence.
Geralt didn't confront me until our third time running into each other.
I had noticed him when I walked in. At that point, I would have assumed he was following me if he didn't have such a distinct appearance. Anyone with an ounce of common sense would know that he would stick out in any crowd. I shrugged it off. I allowed myself to believe it was a coincidence.
That was confirmed for me when I left that night.
I yelled as my arm was grabbed and I was dragged into a small alley.
"What the hell-"
"Why are you following me," he asked. He looked like an angry bear. Nostrils flared, glaring at me, speaking through gritted teeth.
"I'm not," I replied. That was the best explanation that I had.
"Do you expect me to believe that?"
"If you had any common sense, yes," I replied. "Tell me. Have we ever seen each other outside of a tavern?"
He didn't respond to that. It wasn't incredibly shocking to me that someone such as him couldn't admit to something that could prove he was wrong.
"It would be quite shit work on my end if that were the case," I shrugged. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have better ways to spend my time than being manhandled."
I stepped out from my place between the wall and him before going to walk out of the alley.
"What's your name," he called when I got to the end.
"Why do you want to know," I asked, crossing my arms as I looked at him again.
"If we're going to continue running into each other, then it may be nice to have it."
I almost rolled my eyes.
"(Y/n)," I answered. He paused. "I'm hoping you will allow this to be a fair deal. My name for yours."
"Geralt."
I nodded. "Well, Geralt. I hope the next time we speak; it isn't because you dragged me into an alley."
I continued walking away from him.
It would be a while before I found myself walking into the same tavern as Geralt. We seemed to instantly find each other's eyes as soon as I stepped through the door.
I went to ignore him as I always had. But before I had the luxury, he nodded to the seat across from him. I let out a huff before walking over.
"Wish to accuse me of more ridiculous crimes," I asked.
"I wish to offer you a drink," he replied. "If we're going to continue meeting like this, then we may as well be cordial."
I looked between him and the seat for a moment before sighing and sitting down. He had this almost-smug grin stretched across his lips. I shook my head and shifted a bit.
He didn't speak until there was a drink sitting in front of me, "Why do you travel so much?"
"Could ask you the same question," I tried to avoid it.
"But I'm assuming you would already know my answer."
I nodded. "You're a Witcher. You aren't exactly secretive."
"I'm aware," he replied. As if he had tried and failed many times before. "Now. Answer my question."
"I get bored," I explained. Not a complete lie. "I cannot handle sitting in the same place forever. I fear that I would lose my mind if I was confined to such an existence."
He nodded.
"Does that answer your question, Witcher?"
"For now."
I didn't hesitate to roll my eyes after that.
Our next few meetings felt similar to that one.
We would manage to find each other. We would find some conversation that suited us both. Then, we would walk away from each other.
And that was all it was. As if we were both checkpoints for each other. Reminders of how far we had gone.
I didn't mind Geralt's company as much as I assumed that I would. He didn't seem to mind mine either. But that didn't mean that either one of us looked for more than that.
Perhaps that was why I was nothing short of completely confused when I found Geralt knocking on the door to my motel room.
I didn't have much time to question him before my eyes latched onto how he was holding onto his arm.
"Are you planning on letting me bleed out in the hallway," he asked.
I stepped to the side so he could walk inside. "You wouldn't bleed out from that wound."
"I forgot that you were a genius," he muttered as he dropped himself on the mattress.
"If you continue with the attitude, I will ensure that you bleed out in the hallway."
He stared at me for a moment. Like he was daring me to fulfill that promise. I raised an eyebrow at him and crossed my arms over my chest. A similar dare.
He sighed and went about shrugging off his clothes to show the wound in all its glory. I stepped forward to help but he held up a hand to stop me.
"I don't need your help," he explained. "I just needed a place to take care of this and the man running the place said every room was full."
"How did you even know that I was here," I asked.
"I saw you walk this way earlier."
He was already focused on taking care of the cut by the time he answered me. I stood by the end of the bed. I knew that I was staring, but I was hoping that I could cover it up by claiming to simply be worried about his well-being.
"So you just walked around and knocked on every door until you found mine?" I chuckled at the idea of him knocking on a door like this before just grumbling in the face of whoever opened it and walking away.
"I only knocked on yours."
I nodded. "Lucky guess?"
The glare that he sent my way told me otherwise. I couldn't tell if the idea made me uneasy or not.
"Are you going to tell me how you got hurt?"
"Do you really have any desire to know?"
The response was grumbled as he tried to wrap the bandage on his own.
I sighed and walked over. I swatted his hand away and took over. Don't need help, my ass.
"Thank you," he muttered after I had secured the bandage.
"Be still my beating heart, he says thank you," I mumbled back as I moved away from him. He rolled his eyes. "You're welcome."
We fell into a strange silence after that. I couldn't tell if it was tense or comfortable. I had never experienced something like that. Granted, I don't think I had truly spent this much time with Geralt before.
"Geralt," I said. He looked back at me.
I don't know what inspired me to break the silence the way that I did. I don't know if my heartbeat had gotten loud enough to drown out the logical side of my thoughts. Maybe I would have done it no matter what.
I took a deep breath and leaned down to press my lips to his.
I expected him to pull away. Or to push me away. Or maybe sit there in silence until I pulled away.
The last thing I expected him to do was kiss me back.
The hand of his non-injured arm reached up to touch the side of my face.
I leaned back after a few moments.
I almost felt too stunned to speak. I had never truly thought that this would happen. Now that it had, I didn't know what to do.
I took a deep breath to collect my thoughts. "Are you staying here for the night?"
It took him a moment to reply, "If you'll let me."
A grin slowly spread across my face before I leaned in and kissed him again.
It was never going to be an "if".
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shy-urban-hobbit · 4 months
Note
🖤 and/or 💛 with lambert/aiden from the kissing list please :3
I went with 💛 - reunion kiss for this one 😁😁
"Alright, what the fuck is wrong?" Geralt asked, reminding himself to put his ale back on the table calmly rather than slamming it down like he really wanted to (two Witchers in the inn was already drawing enough attention without making it look like a fight was about to break out between them), having finally reached the end of his tether.
"Nothing. Besides the usual." Lambert answered sulkily, trying to glare a hole into the table top, only pausing when his eyes would flick up to the door briefly when someone new entered, arms tightly folded across his chest. Those four words the first response he'd given all evening that hadn't been monosyllables at best or a grunt of acknowledgement at worst.
Geralt felt his eye twitch. His little brother was acting every bit the surly teenager he'd once been. Even back then, getting him to open up about anything had been akin to pulling teeth, worse even - at least pulling teeth yielded some results.
"We only left Kaer Morhen three months ago, things can't be that bad already?" He cajoled, hoping Lambert would let something slip.
"Well, maybe I'm just having truly shit luck." Lambert drained his tankard before standing, "I'm going to bed."
Geralt watched the others retreating form. Some things the youngest Witcher felt deeper than any of them, no matter how much he tried to brush them off.
Lambert's mood hadn't improved the next morning. If anything, it seemed to worsen after Geralt mentioned he was heading in the same direction as him on his way to meet Jaskier. By mid afternoon, Geralt was ready to shove Lambert's face in the next pile of horse dung they came across after he snapped at him for breathing too loudly. It didn't escape his attention that Lambert kept scanning the road and not just in casual observation - he was actively looking out for something, but every time Geralt tried to ask Lambert would either just growl at him or spur his horse a little further ahead in the on road equivalent of slamming his door in Geralt's face. Not that Geralt minded that much, the constant, acrid stench of Lambert's negative emotions was starting to put both him and Roach on edge.
After a night spent in the woods with separate camps, the two Wolves arrived in Ellander and at the temple of Melitele, where the White Wolf was due to meet his bard. Lambert found himself tagging along to say hello to Nenneke, he'd always found her fearlessness on calling bullshit when she smelt it refreshing (plus, watching her treat Geralt like an errant child would never not be funny). He couldn't quite discern the look she threw him when she informed them Jaskier hadn't arrived yet, although her "Jealousy is unbecoming on anybody. Including a Witcher." helped shed some light.
Luckily, Geralt saw fit to drag him out into the gardens before he started asking questions.
"Is that why you've had a stick up your arse, you're jealous of me and Jaskier?"
"Don't talk shit." Lambert snapped, "I didn't even know you were meeting him until you told me."
"And it was after that you went from a dragon with a sore head to one with a full on fucking migraine."
"It's my business, and shockingly it's got fuck all to do with you and your peacock. So why don't you just-"
"Geralt!"
Both of them turned at the yell, Geralt to be greeted by the sight of his bard waving at him and Lambert by a blur that slammed into him with enough force to knock him onto his back with an "Oof!" that was swallowed up by a pair of soft, chapped lips, an agile tongue dipping in cheekily when Lambert's lips parted in a smile once he realised who exactly had attacked him.
"Hello, you." Aiden said, grinning down at him once they parted. Not that Lambert was letting him go very far, his arms locked around the others back.
"You're late." Lambert said simply, " I waited for you as long as I was able but you never showed. So I started moving, hoping I'd run into you on the road but everywhere I tried...I was starting to think..." He squeezed Aiden in lieu of finishing his sentence, the other rubbed his nose against Lambert's in the way the Wolf recognised as him offering a silent apology.
"Well, glad to see you know each other already. No awkward introductions necessary." Jaskier chirped, sounding amused.
Lambert wouldn't say that exactly. He chanced a look at Geralt who looked positively dumbstruck as he stared down at them both, his sword half drawn, frozen in the act of coming to the others aid.
"And I'm afraid that's partly my doing. Aiden and that infallible Witcher timing saved me from a rather unfortunate encounter with some giant centipede thingy. Unfortunately, he didn't come out of it unscathed and far be it for me to leave my rescuer bleeding out on the roadside."
"For a troubadour, you make quite the competent healer." Aiden broke in, lifting his head at Lambert's gentle insistence as he checked him over for evidence of new injuries.
"Twenty years of practice, dear." Jaskier threw a meaningful look at Geralt, "He offered to escort me the rest of the way when we found out we were heading in the same direction."
Lambert finally relinquished his grip enough to let Aiden stand, taking the offered hand and watching Geralt warily for the moment he knew was coming since the word "Witcher" had flown from Jaskier's mouth.
Geralt had absolutely no idea what had been used to turn this strange Witchers eyes that almost luminous green rather than the traditional yellow and orange hues. He was almost of a height with Lambert when they both stood. His armour was light, leaving the arms bare apart from a set of plain leather gauntlets, the scars criss-crossing dark skin proudly on display and around his neck...
Geralt's fingers twitched towards his weapons in the same moment Lambert took half a step forwards, subtly placing himself slightly in front of the Cat, the two of them locking eyes in a silent conversation. Everything seemed to be holding its breath. Aiden kept his mouth shut, the slight ocean salt tang of apprehension present for those who could smell it and even Jaskier had fallen silent, his usual fresh apple and rain scent turning slightly rotten in his confusion as he looked between the three of them.
Geralt was the first to look away, "Well met Aiden. Lambert, make sure you say goodbye before you move on." He started herding Jaskier away, his eyes screaming that this "Goodbye" was going to include getting some answers. Lambert groaned.
"I recognise what that look means. Could've gone worse though." Aiden said, wrapping his arms around Lambert in a proper hug.
The Wolf shrugged, "Fuck him. He's got the messiest love life out of all of us, he's in no position to lecture me about you. Now c'mere."
He pulled Aiden into another kiss, putting his all into it now that he wasn't caught off guard.
"I really am sorry I made you worry, Pup."
"Let's find an empty room and you can make it up to me."
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thedemonofcat · 11 months
Text
(Essentially, that scene from Avatar the Last Airbender when Azula taunts Sokka by revealing that Suki was captured. My intention is to write a Geraskier version of that, but I had yet to figure out what a full story would entail)
"He called your name," Rience spoke calmly in a manner which seemed creepy and yet unnerving.
Geralt stood still, his body tense and ready to move. He knew this was his opportunity to escape, and he had to act quickly. His mind raced as he considered the danger of staying any longer. Ciri and Yennefer were with him, and he had to ensure they were safe.
Despite the urgency of the situation, something within him held him back. It was a voice that spoke to him, telling him to stay and listen to the firefucker's words. He couldn't shake the feeling that there was something important that he needed to hear.
Geralt's heart raced as he tried to identify the Niflgaardian prisoner to whom Rience was referring. "My favourite prisoner used to mention you all the time," Rience had said, his words seeping into Geralt's mind like poison. Who could it be? The thought of someone being locked up and talking about him made him uneasy.
Rience's words hit Geralt like a sudden blow. He felt as though the air was being sucked out of his lungs. "The Bard was conceived. You were going to come to rescue him," Rience revealed, his voice laced with a hint of malice. Geralt's heart sank as he tried to understand what he had just heard. "Of course, you never came, and he gave up on you."
Jaskier was in the hands of Nifflgaard.
They had his Bard.
There was something wrong with this. Jaskier was supposed to be in a safe place. This war is supposed to be far away, so he must hide somewhere far away. Geralt shouldn't have to worry about any kind of danger from Jaskier as he shouldn't be a danger at all.
Who said witchers don't have feelings. They would have to rethink their thought process if they saw the rage in Gearlt as he charged toward Riences, with Yennefer able to use his magic to hold the other mage in place.
"Where is Jaskier" Geralt demand to know, only to be meant with silence. "Where's Jaskier? Answer me"
Geralt's fury was so intense that he was confident he could crush Rience's head with only his bare hands if he wanted to. If he didn't get told where Jaskier was right in that second. It wasn't until he felt a hand on his shoulder that he could figure out what was happening.
"Geralt, he won't talk," Yennefer tried to reason with Geralt. Getting Ciri out of here now was the most important thing they had to do, and they could always begin their search for the Bard once they all got to a safe place.
But Geralt needed help with thinking straight. "Where are you keeping him" The witcher yelled.
"We need to go now," Yennefer said, "We'll find Jaskier later." As she spoke those words, Geralt could hear the rumbling of horses as more Nifflgaardian soldiers got closers.
"Geralt" This time, Ciri was the one to speak up. She had remembered hearing stories about the white wolf and his Bards and had even heard off a few of Jaskier's songs.
Hearing his daughter's voice, Geralt knew it was best to leave and get to safety. But, unfortunately, it was highly unlikely that Geralt could rescue Jaskier if he were in jail or dead.
So Yennefer got on her horse while Geralt and Ciri got on to Roach. The three roads off with Geralt already trying to devise plans to rescue his Bard.
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fandom-junk-drawer · 1 year
Text
The Witcher Headcanon - Purring Bonus Scene - Part 4
Jaskier thought he knew all of Geralt's purrs. He purred when he was happy, when he was anxious, and when he was hurt or sick. And Jaskier had learned that each one had its own unique sound. Now he could read Geralt's moods by his purrs as easily as he could by his 'Hmm's.
It kind of irritated Geralt because he couldn't hide much from him now. Jaskier had always been very talented at reading people, and had very quickly learned to read all Geralt's subtle expressions, grunts, and body language. Geralt sometimes wondered if the bard didn't have some Fae blood in his family line because it sure seemed as if he could read his f***ing mind sometimes.
Geralt was just waiting for the day that Jaskier would predict, probably down to the minute, when Geralt would have to take a sh*t. And he would probably do it in the middle of one of his sets. In a crowded tavern. Or at a banquet.
Yeah, it would be at a banquet. And he would stop right in the middle of his song and yell in full bardic voice, "You might want to go find the privy, Geralt! I can tell by the way your left eyebrow just twitched that you are going to need to take a truly massive sh*t. You better squeeze those cheeks together and get moving. You've got maybe five minutes before that Food Baby gets born!"
And then Yennefer, from where ever she would be lurking in the hall, would add "And don't forget to wipe your a**!"
If that day ever came, Geralt would be the first Witcher in history to die of embarrassment.
Geralt's sardonic thoughts were interrupted by Jaskier's coughing. The bard had picked up a cold in the last town. It didn't sound like it was anything serious, but they were still going to stop in Vengerberg to let him rest before they continued on to Kaer Morhen. Hunting had been bad this year, so Geralt decided there was no reason why he couldn't go home early.
The bard was sitting by the campfire where he had been restringing his lute and was now trying to tune it. Geralt saw him slowly flex the fingers of one hand, and noticed the slight tremor in the digits. He watched him then squeeze the opposite forearm.
Geralt frowned to himself as Jaskier surreptitiously shook his arms and hands out, and forced them back to attending to his lute. He smelled like sickness, and...pain.
Jaskier had broken both his forearms two winters ago at Kaer Morhen, and Geralt knew what this Autumn chill was doing to the old injuries. He rose, rubbing at his own knee for a moment before hobbling over to the fire.
Jaskier blinked in surprise as his lute was lifted away. A hot stone wrapped in rags was placed in his hands, and he was then pulled face first against a warm chest that was vibrating with a rumbly purr.
Jaskier was going to protest, but the heat from the stone was chasing the ache from his forearms, and he suddenly realized that he was a little bit cold. And pretty tired. And his body ached. They had been traveling most of the morning. Oooh, that purring was...niiiice. The vibration felt good in his hands and arms... Wait, was that Geralt's Hurt purr? No, no, this one was different. It was quieter, steadier...
Geralt didn't know how the purr happened. He'd been trying to Hurt purr, because that was what always helped him when he was in pain, but somehow, it came out different. He felt the second when it hit a rhythm and frequency that...felt right. This was how he needed to purr to make Jaskier feel better.
Geralt purred until he heard Jaskier's heartbeat find a steady rhythm that told him the pain was gone, or at least diminished to where it was tolerable.
"Let's get to Vengerberg so you can rest."
They rode the rest of the day until they reached Vengerberg, and they went straight to Yennefer's house. The mage was waiting, looking as usual, as if their presence were an inconvenience. It wavered for a split second as she watched a pale, tired-looking Jaskier slither down from the saddle.
She grumbled as she led them inside and showed them to their rooms.
"Ugh! Now I have to look at you for the next few days!" Yennefer commented as she strode into Jaskier's room a few minutes later with Geralt at her heels.
"Look on the bright side. It's a nice change from looking at the ugly you see in the mirror every day!" Jaskier replied in a half-hearted, nasally grumble from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. Yennefer could hear him wheezing slightly with each exhale.
"Ha! Like you look any better right now!" Yennefer quipped as Jaskier started coughing. She made a face as he gagged up a blob of phlegm and leaned over the edge of the bed.
"Don't you dare spit that on my floor, you uncouth savage!"
Jaskier glared at her, then spat the greenish gob into his hand and wiped it on his shirt.
"That's disgust-! You're disgusting!" She snapped. Her tone was sharp, but Geralt saw that her hands were gentle as she pressed them to Jaskier's cheeks, and then the sides of his neck, before slipping her hand down the back of his shirt.
Yennefer ignored Geralt's knowing 'Hm'. She could feel a little bit of fever in the bard's skin and she could tell by the way he kept wincing that his head hurt. At least his breathing wasn't too bad.
"Yeah? Well...your mother." Jaskier mumbled in one last attempt to keep up the Mortal Enemies act as the witch ran a hand tenderly through his hair.
Yennefer saw him cringe.
"Sorry, Yen... I'm not exactly at my best right now."That had definitely not been one of his wittiest comebacks.
Yennefer leaned in and placed a soft kiss to his temple.
"It's alright, dear heart," She said sympathetically as she slipped under his other arm as Geralt helped him up. "Let's get you into the bath and then put you to bed."
Jaskier heaved a wheezy sigh. He was too tired and light-headed to reply, so he let them slowly lead him to the washroom, where a tub of steaming hot water and a roaring fire waited.
Jaskier drank the potion Yennefer handed him after he'd finished with his bath, then curled up in the bed, tucked up against his personal heater, smelling of the herbs Yennefer had dumped into the bath water to help his breathing. He lay there, listening to the rumble of Geralt's purr.
The vibration of it felt nice. It helped take his attention away from the discomfort in his arms. Or was it easing the pain? Is this why Geralt would purr when he was hurt? Is this what it felt like to him? Was it like a painkiller? Was this some kind of, of Healing purr?
Jaskier wanted to ponder that line of thought more, but the rhythmic sound and vibration of Geralt's purring was making it hard to think of much of anything. The thoughts came sluggishly, then flitted away leaving his mind pleasantly empty. There was just the purring and the warmth.
He shifted, summoning the energy to roll over and clumsily resituate himself. He put his arm over Geralt's stomach and rested his head on his chest. That was better...
Geralt continued purring until he felt Jaskier completely relax. His breathing was deep and even, if a little congested. Geralt slowly eased his sleeping friend off him, settling him on his back so he could breathe easier.
He shushed him when he stirred, snuffling and clumsily rubbing the back of his hand over his eyes as he muttered groggily. Geralt pulled the blankets up over him, and laid his hand on his chest so he could feel that he was there. Jaskier settled back down after a few moments, falling back asleep.
Geralt made sure there was enough wood on the fire, then went to help Yennefer.
He spent the following days helping out around the house when he wasn't cuddled up to Jaskier, purring.
Jaskier improved quickly over the next three days. He was recovering from the cold faster than Yennefer expected. His fever had broken the first night, and the congestion was all but gone now. The cough lingered, but Yennefer was not concerned about it. Coughs sometimes didn't clear up for a week or two.
Jaskier had entertained himself while he recovered by discussing his theory about Geralt's purring with Yennefer. The sorceress hadn't dismissed his thoughts as he'd expected her to. Instead, she seemed quite interested in hearing them, and the two of them would discuss and compare theories and observations until Jaskier started drifting off. Geralt was often dragged into their discussions for his personal perspective and experiences.
When Jaskier was finally fit to travel, he left with a thick, warm jacket, a bag full of potions for when his arms ached, and a brand new notebook to start recording his thoughts, ideas, and observations. He promised that when they next saw each other, Yennefer could help him organize his notes.
Geralt had rolled his eyes and braced himself for a long winter.
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dancingwiththefae · 2 years
Note
“ you need to distract me. do something, anything. ” for geraskier please!!
Thank you so much for the prompt and sorry this took a while!
CW for blood and injury, stitching up wounds
wc 967
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The scent of blood invaded Geralt's nose. It was everywhere. The worst was around his left leg, where Jaskier's trousers had been shredded by the wolf's claws. They had not long left Vorune, and had decided to take a lesser travelled path through the woods to save time. He heard them coming but Jaskier wasn't quick enough. He was halfway up the tree when one locked its jaws around his ankle and pulled him down to the ground. Geralt dispatched of it quickly, but not before it sunk it's claws into him and by that time the damage had already been done. Sweaty and pale, Jaskier tried to prop himself up to look down at the wound.
“Don't look,” the witcher reprimanded. He did as he was told, laying back down on the ground with a whimper. Eyes closed, breathing shallow. Geralt had to think fast. Jaskier was far more fragile than himself. Without proper care he could easily lose his leg. They weren't too far from the town. If he hurried, he could get them there before sundown.
He cleaned the wounds as best he could and tore up a shirt to bandage it. One of his. He'd be damned if Jaskier yelled at him for ruining a perfectly good shirt after all of this. It was the best he could do, to slow the bleeding, until they got to a healer.
“This is going to hurt. I'm sorry.”
He wasn't even sure the bard was listening to him but he warned him anyway before lifting him off the ground. He tried to be as careful as he could but Jaskier still cried out as he was lifted onto Roach.
“I'm going to die. I'm going to lose my leg and then I'm gonna die-” Jaskier babbled ceaselessly.
“Not gonna happen.” Geralt settled behind him, securing one arm around him to keep him from falling. “Just hold on. It's not far.”
They raced into town, swerving to avoid passers-by as they rushed out of their way but not stopping until they reached the healer. She wasted no time bringing them in when she laid eyes on them. With practised hands, she cut away at the bandage and frabric of his trousers to reveal the damage. The bite on his ankle would heal mostly on it's own. Though she advised to keep it clean and bandaged until it did. The wound on his leg, however, would need stitching. The cut was deep, running across the side of his calf. It would be a long and painful healing process. She poured clear liquid into a glass tumbler.
“Here, drink this,” she instructed as she passed it over to Jaskier.
“What is it?” He asked, tipping the contents back and immediately letting out a surprised cough.
“Vodka. Best I can do at the moment, I'm afraid. But it'll help with the pain while I stitch you up.”
The bard frowned at the glass.
“Got any more?”
“Need you at least semi-coherent,” she replied, taking the glass away, “can't be wondering whether you've passed out from blood loss or alcohol on top of everything else.”
Whatever witty reply Jaskier was about to say died in his throat as she prodded at the wound. At the sight of the needle his eyes grew impossibly wide and he quickly turned his face away.
“Geralt,” he said through gritted teeth, “you need to distract me. Do something, anything.”
He didn't know what to do. Jaskier needed emotional support. So he said the first thing he could think of.
“Did I ever tell you about the time I took Ciri ice skating?”
The bard let out a strained laugh that was almost a sob.
“Only about a million times.”
Shit. It was the best story he had for things like this. Guess he'd used it one too many times.
“Could just tell it again,” he shrugged. It made Jaskier laugh more, and then they were both reprimanded by the healer for making Jaskier move around too much.
“Don't make me laugh, it hurts,” the bard whined.
The old story flowed out of him just as it had a million times before. Jaskier had the courtesy to smile and nod at the appropriate times, despite probably being able to recite the whole thing himself. He ignored the small whimpers of pain for Jaskier's benefit, as they both did their best to ignore what the healer was doing. Jaskier reached out for his hand which Geralt took without a word.
The story was cut short. Even Geralt was tired of hearing it. But the stitching wasn't done and Geralt still had a job to do.
“Around Kaer Morhen, it freezes in the winter. You could come up. Skate with us.”
“Don't know how,” he whispered.
“I could teach you. Or Ciri for that matter. She always skated rings around me.”
“Always been terrifyingly competent, that girl.”
It was the last he spoke, the pain and blood-loss making him weak and nauseous. While his hand still gripped his tight, Geralt carried on talking. About winter, about Kaer Morhen, about how they would spend their time with small anecdotes thrown in. Nothing particularly interesting to Geralt but it kept the bard's eyes on him. That was enough.
“There we are. Done.”
“Oh thank fuck.” Jaskier's eyes closed and his hand slipped from Geralt's as he brought it up to wipe the sweat from his brow.
“Though there'll be no ice skating for a while,” she said as she washed her hands in a basin, “or walking for that matter. I'd prefer it if you stayed in town for a few days at least. So that I can keep an eye on it as it heals.”
“Yes. Perfect. Now if you don't mind, I'm going to pass out now.”
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seidenbros · 2 years
Text
In a matter of minutes, the sky turned from blue to grey to nearly black. They'd felt the increasing wind before which had made them hurry their steps, but they were not able to escape the thunderstorm that was rolling on.
“Jaskier, we need to hurry if we don't want to get drenched,” Geralt said through gritted teeth.
“You know, we would get to the next inn in time if we were actually riding on a horse.” Jaskier looked at Roach, who seemed to give him a glare, but that was probably just his imagination.
“You know we can't.” As much as Jaskier wanted to protest, he knew that Geralt was right, because Roach was already carrying enough weight at the moment, and they needed all of that. It wasn't like they could just abandon everything just to get to their destination. It wasn't even freezing cold, Jaskier didn't mind the rain at all – he loved the summer rain actually – but he knew how much force a storm could have, how much destruction lightning could leave behind.
Before they know it, the rain set in. Geralt grabbed Jaskier by the wrist and pulled him towards the trees to seek shelter from the downpour. In the distance, they could hear the thunder, but they couldn't see the lightning yet, because of their surroundings.
“So, you want us to stay here until this is over?” Jaskier quirked an eyebrow at Geralt,
“Don't tell me you want to go out into that downpour and get completely drenched? Are you mad?”
“You do know who you are talking to, right?”
“Yeah, you are mad...” Geralt shook his had half in amusement, half in exasperation. Before he could do anything, Jaskier stepped out of the shelter the trees were providing and into the rain. It smelled sweet and earthy, like the typical summer rain, which made Jaskier smile, even ad the rain made it's way through his clothes and onto his skin. “We're in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?” Geralt watched Jaskier stand there, already completely drenched.
“Yes,” Jaskier yelled over the sound of rain, a brilliant smile on his lips, as he tilted his face up to greet the rain. It felt amazing, it always did. He couldn't really say what it was about the summer rain, but it almost felt like it was cleansing his soul. For a moment, he simply stood there, enjoying the rain on his skin that cooled his body down after they'd been walking in the sun for hours. Slowly, he turned his face towards Geralt again as the rain was lessening. “You do know that lightning striked trees rather than flat land, right? So I'm actually safer here than you are over there.”
“I'm good here.”
“What's that, my dear Witcher?” Jaskier smirked, turning completely towards him, cocking his head to the left. “Are you afraid of a little rain?”
“That's not a little rain.” Geralt looks Jaskier up and down, his bright blue doublet now a couple of shades darker due to the water.
“So you are afraid,” Jaskier kept on teasing, but he looked up at the sky again, closing his eyes. It was already getting a bit lighter again, but the rain remained. There was still thunder and lightning all around, but still a bit away from them.
“Say that again.” Jaskier heard Geralt's voice close to his ear now, before he felt the Witcher's hands on his upper arms. The bard gasped when he opened his eyes and was suddenly nose to nose with Geralt. Still, he couldn't help but smirk.
“Scared, Witcher?”
“You wish!”
His words make Jaskier's smirk turn into a smile. His hands reach up to cup Geralt's face before he presses his lips to the Witcher's. He'd kissed a lot of people, but he'd never kissed anyone in the pouring rain before. Something that was so romanticised that he had to try it himself, and... it did live up to what he'd expected. More than that actually. Geralt's grip on his arms loosened, and instead, he dropped his hands to Jaskier's waist, pulling him closer. Seems like Jaskier wasn't the only one enjoying this kiss in the rain. They only parted when they both needed to come up for air. Staring into each others eyes, they both started chuckling.
“Maybe, we should keep going now to get to that inn... get out of these clothes, hm?” It was Jaskier's suggestion this time, because as much as he enjoyed standing in the rain, kissing Geralt in the rain, he liked being warmed by Geralt's body next to his in a comfy bed even more.
“You just want to get me naked, don't you?” Geralt asked, trying to suppress the smile that was about to break out on his lips.
“Maaaaaybe.” Jaskier pulled Geralt towards him for another quick kiss. “Can you blame me?”
No. No he could not, because he wanted to get Jaskier out of these wet clothes as well. To keep him from catching a cold of course.
Inspiration from this list
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s0apysm1les · 2 years
Note
Omg I love your yan geralt x rock troll darling; if it still ok with you maybe some hcs on geralt finding out darling's/reader's persuit was only intended to be a friendship and friendly company while she's separated from her mate and until she can unite with him again but she still wants to be friends with him? I don't think yan!geralt would take that info very well 👀
The ultimate - surely accidental - betrayal and one that you will come to regret. He not only did not kill *you* out of his random benevolence but he even left your comrade alone as well... until he saw the two of you hold hands and seem to lean on each other in a passionate way.
The rage he felt when he heard the clacking of stones that led to him turning and seeing the sight had never left him since then. Even as you treat him the same was you did previously.
The exited nature of matching a rock to his cold exterior and gleefully bringing it to him. Was it just you treating him as a lesser in your own sickeningly cruel way? You treat him like this. You open him up to you and make him connect you to him, make him have a vulnerability. You-you break him. And you can act like nothing happens? No. That's not how this works.
You CHOSE him. You already picked your mate when you sought Geralt out each of those times. The days where you somehow made him cater to your unspoken requests, the moments where he unpromptedly defended you, fed you and saved your life on multiple occasions was you. choosing. HIM.
It didn't matter that you had bonded with this other troll creature before you had met Geralt. It didn't matter because you had made Geralt chose you and with every one of your actions you had yelled to the stars above that you had chosen Geralt too. Don't you attempt to deny it now when everyone who you two had passed had seen everything and would agree with his thinking
If they knew what was good for them.
Your false... "mate" will die. He will ensure that you know this. He will ensure that *it* too knows this. Making a demented sort of show as he flourishes in watching the false mateship end in a gory tumble.
You will learn soon enough that this was only a farce that that other rock troll surely tricked you into.
You are just too oblivious and stupidly kind of a creature to notice that the other rock troll was lying and deceiving you the entire time into a relationship that is meant for Geralt to partake in with you.
But ignorance does not beget innocence you... darling, daft creature. And Geralt will teach you just who you belong to. No matter how much you cry and mourn for that fraudulent thing you called a mate.
Part One
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