#Valdo Marx x Reader

[askaalaska-vdeppressed]

#valdo marx #alaska writes #eskel x reader #jaskier x reader #Valdo Marx x reader #eskel #jaskier

[valeskafics]

"Perfect" - Jaskier x Reader

Summary: You and Jaskier share a moment while "babysitting" your niece.

TW: none, just fluff

Word Count: 885 words

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the The Witcher characters nor do I claim to own them. I do not own any of the images used nor do I claim to own them.

Comments, likes, and reblogs are never required but are immensely appreciated ❤️

“I’m sorry.”

You look at your niece, smiling kindly, “Ciri, what on earth are you apologizing for?”

The blonde princess gives you a sad look, “You and Jaskier are here, stuck watching me instead of dancing and having fun at the party.”

“Oh, my darling,” you ruffle her hair, “I don’t care about the stupid Conclave or the ball. I’m quite content sitting here with you and Jask, don’t you worry your head about it.”

Ciri doesn’t seem entirely convinced, but she relents, cuddling into her blanket, falling into a deep, peaceful slumber. You watch over your niece for a while longer, happy that she is safe and content here. She lets out a light snore and you hold back the snicker that threatens to escape your lips, considering Ciri insists that you’re the one who snores and not her. She reminds you so much of your beloved mother, Calanthe, at times that it makes your heart ache. Your reverie is interrupted by the sound of someone clearing their throat.

You turn to see Jaskier, looking at you with a mischievous grin, prompting you to question, “And what’s got you smiling like that, hm? I thought Valdo Marx’s presence was enough to dishearten you.”

Jaskier rolls his eyes, hands on his hips as he glares at you playfully, “Well, I had gotten you a gift, but if that’s how you want to play it, I’ll just give it to someone else!”

You grin at your lover, pecking his cheek, “And what sort of gift is this?”

“Go into the other room and see,” he teases, ushering you away, “Go on, shoo!”

“Alright, alright!” you burst into laughter, entering the other room and gasping at what you see.

Laid upon the bed is the most beautiful dress you’ve ever seen in your life. It’s red and made of the finest, softest silk you’ve ever seen, trimmed with silver. You absently wonder how in the world Jaskier was able to afford something like this, but you shake the thought off, instead, quickly putting on the dress. You run your brush through your hair, applying a bit of rouge to your cheeks and lips, feeling like a teenager all over again.

You step back out and giggle when Jaskier’s jaw drops upon seeing you, “I… Wow. You look…”

“This was such a sweet gift, Jask,” you say, taking his hands in yours, “But why?”

“You’re a princess,” he mumbles, “You deserve to wear the finest clothes, attend balls, be courted by princes. I’m just a bard-”

You press a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him, “You are not just a bard. You’re the Sandpiper, hero to the elves. You’re Jaskier,” you pause before admitting something to him that you’ve long been afraid to, but decide that this is the right time, “You’re the man I love.”

He gazes at you with those soft blue eyes, blown wide with surprise, before a grin spreads across his face, “I love you too. So much,” he embraces you tightly, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “I know we’re not at the ball, but would you do me the honor of having this dance?”

You giggle, curtsying to him in a display of mock gentility, the two of you beginning to waltz around the room without any music. That is, until Jaskier tells you he’s going to sing a new song that he wrote just for you.

Well, I found a woman, stronger than anyone I know.

She shares my dreams, I hope that someday I’ll share her home.

I found a lover to carry more than just my secrets.

To carry love, to carry children of our own.

You feel tears prick at your eyes as you continue dancing in Jaskier’s warm embrace, holding him tightly as the two of you dance around the room.

We are still kids, but we're so in love, fighting against all odds.

I know we'll be alright this time.

Darling, just hold my hand, be my girl, I'll be your man.

I see my future in your eyes.

At the last line, you gaze up into his eyes, smiling softly. You don’t think you’ve ever felt this much love for another person in your entire life. It’s as though your heart could burst from how much you adore the man before you. His forehead rests against yours as he continues twirling you about the room, making you feel every bit the princess that you are.

Baby, I'm dancing in the dark, with you between my arms.

Barefoot on the grass, listening to our favorite song.

When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful, I don't deserve this.

Darling, you look perfect tonight.

He reaches the final refrain of the song, the two of you now just swaying in place, Jaskier’s hands on your waist, his forehead resting against yours as he croons sweetly.

I have faith in what I see.

Now I know I have met an angel in person and she looks perfect.

I don't deserve this, you look perfect tonight.

Ciri opens one eye from her spot on the bed, smiling to herself as she sees two of the people she cares most about wrapped in each other’s embrace, sharing a tender kiss. For this brief moment, everything is perfect.

#jaskier x reader #jaskier x you #julian pankratz x reader #julian pankratz x you #dandelion x reader #dandelion x you #the witcher x you #my writing

[angst-fairygodmother]

WIP Game

Tagged by @seancekitsch . Thanks Bonnie!

Rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it!

Yennefer - Scars requested; Yennefer/Reader

Protective Lambert x Reader

Galavant/Witcher: Jaskier and Valdo Marx I had thoughts, and if no one else is going to put those two shows together, by god I will; pure crack

Velasco x Reader - Pruning Shears

Velasco x Reader [untitled] requested fic using some angst prompts

Sam Gamgee x Reader requested; jealousy

BFFLs (When Derek Met Sean)

Babysitting Jess/Ollie featuring Irina

[Untitled] Jess/Ollie; a mini-arc of probably 2-3 fics/chapters; next steps

Darkened Hearts - Like We Never Loved At All Light Fingers sequel chapter 1

Luther/Sloane fluff (not sure if this one actually counts because it’s more of a short list of ideas than it is a wip, yet)

Tagging (no pressure): @miss-kittys-magical-library @exlibrisfangirl @firstpersonnarrator @writefasttalkevenfaster  @imagine-you @sennextheassasinkingoflight

#tag game #wips #wip sneak peek #titles #feel free to ask me whatever #11 projects is a totally reasonable number especially when at least two are series/multi-chapter #😅 totally and completely reasonable #technically this isn't all my wips. just all the ones I've taken any steps on recently (and by recently I basically mean this year)

[seanfalco]

The Witcher Masterlist

*denotes smut

Punk!AU Masterlist/Time Line

Multi-Chapter:

(More Than Just) Travel Partners [ A tale of two bards ] - Complete ( Jaskier x f!Reader )

Part I

Part II

Part III

*Part IV*

Part V

Part VI

Blood in the Water [ Mafia!AU ] - Hiatus ( Jaskier x f!Reader )

*Part I*

*Part II*

Part III

Famous Last Words [ HS!Punk!AU ] - Hiatus ( Platonic!Jaskier & Aevryn (oc) / Valdryn )

Part I — I Can’t Do Everything, but I’d Do Anything For You

Part II — All I Do is Kiss You Through the Bars of a Rhyme

Part III — I can't do anything except be in love with you

One Shots/Drabbles/Prompt Requests:

Jaskier x Reader

Freckles

Wild Breathless Kisses brought on by a heartfelt gift

I never felt alone since you came into my life

Whispering “I love you” before a chaste, delicate kiss

*One person tracing the other’s lips with a fingertip until they can’t resist any longer, tilting their chin towards them for a kiss*

I don’t call you my partner in crime for no reason

*Shy!Reader x Jaskier*

Please stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting

Confession (can’t find the link;;)

Jaskier x Reader x Valdo

*Shared Performance*

Valdo Marx x Reader

One person pouting only to have it removed by a kiss from the other person

*Don’t threaten me with a good time*

A Matter of Honor

Introducing Jaskier

*Hair Pulling*

Headcanons:

Feral!Valdo hcs

General Valdo Marx hcs

Updated: 8/29/2021

#masterlist #jaskier imagines #valdo marx imagines #jaskier #jaskier x reader #the witcher #valdo marx #valdo marx x reader

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

"we are in public, you know?""Try and stay quiet" with valdo ?

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Valdo x Reader Word Count: 742 Rating: M Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @mycat-is-mylove @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @kemmastan​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @writingstudent​ @mlleecrivaine​ @coffee-and-stories​ @amirahiddleston​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @astouract​ @your-not-invisible-to-me @daydreamer-in-training @morelikebyesexual a/n: The Douche Prince rides again jk just fingering for now

On nights where Valdo wasn’t given his proper recognition and  praise, he was needy and hungry to prove himself and while you hated to see him so upset you couldn’t deny you enjoyed the result. On nights like tonight when his talents were met with great aplomb, he grew equally ravenous, bolstered by his success and eager to share his happiness with you. Sometimes a bit too enthusiastically.

“We are in public, you know,” you murmured as he pawed at you, mouth pressing hungry kisses against your lips and jaw and neck as he walked you into a dark corner of the balcony.

“Don’t care, need you now,” he muttered between kisses, the words falling into your cleavage as his mouth traveled further down, hands hiking your skirt up just enough to slide an arm under. His hand stroked the length of your leg from your ankle up your shin around your knee and up the tender flesh of your thigh, pausing and looking up at you with an entreating look in his lust-darkened emerald eyes.

“Well?” he purred, waiting for your permission as he always did no matter how eager. You raked your hand through the tightly coiled curls and enjoyed the way his eyes closed and he sighed, pressing his face down against the cushion of your breasts as you kneaded through his hair a few times before finally seizing a handful. His eyes snapped open and he gave a growl that hit you in your core.

“Yes,” you said a little breathlessly. He grinned and wasted no time in cupping you possessively, feeling your warmth and wetness and muttering soft curses of adoration. Your sigh bled into a moan as he deftly slipped past the smallclothes and parted your dripping folds.

“Try and stay quiet,” he admonished lightly. You stuck your tongue out at him and nearly bit it as he began to stroke and tease you, fingers well attuned to what you needed. He could take his time, he usually did just to be a prick and because he knew it was more intense when he finally gave you your release, but there were people milling around below who could look up at any point and see you not to mention if a partygoer decided to step out onto the balcony. The excitement of how close you were to being found out only made you wetter and he chuckled knowingly, rising to kiss you though his fingers never broke rhythm. When he slipped two of them inside of you he tasted your barely muffled moans, the feeling of you clenching around him tightly nearly enough to trip him over the edge but this was about you. He would take what he wanted later but he would give this to you now and you took it so well.

“Do you like that they could see us?” he purred into your ear, “Do you want them to see how beautiful you are when you come for me?”

You shot him a warning look but he was unabashed, curling his fingers and gently brushing against where you needed him, pausing only to give you a wicked, smug smirk before pushing you over the edge with his nimble fingers. He swallowed your moans and you wrapped your arms around his neck, holding onto him for leverage as he supported your slightly trembling frame. When he pulled his hand away and carefully brushed away any wrinkles from your skirt you were stunned as always by how calm and casual he could seem while painfully hard and wanting. Not a curl was out of place and to those who backed by scant moments later he seemed to just be kindly fanning a sweating, still softly panting woman.

“It’s the heat,” he explained, a tutting, sympathetic look on his face as he continued to fan you softly. You fought back a laugh and wondered how they couldn’t see the amused twinkle in his eye as they offered to bring water.

“Ah bless, that is terribly kind but she just needed a hand. She’ll be alright soon,” he said, pun very much not lost on you who groaned inwardly but smiled kindly at the strangers before they walked away.

“You’re ridiculous,” you scoffed.

“You love it,” he said, pressing a quick kiss to your nose, “Now, let’s get back home before I’m forced to bend you over this balustrade and give them my greatest performance yet.”

#Anonymous #smut #Valdo x Reader #Valdo Marx x Reader #Valdo smut #reader request #Valdo imagines

[moonlights-inkwell]

Come On, Rip My Clothes Off

Modern! Jaskier x Reader

Word Count: 1635

Summary: When your boyfriend told you he was dropping out of university to start a band, you expected a lot of things. This was not one of them.

A/N: Really, I have no excuse for this one. It’s straight up some mindless smut, but like. Modern. It was a good enough distraction from the like... 3 unfinished serieses I have. Rip. It’s modern and junk, but I’m still seeing this reader as the same as the one in the rest of my fics. Enjoy the smut.

Title from Wild Blue Yonder

Warnings: Smut. Fingering. Slight dirty talk. Jokes about foot fetishes. Explicit mention of Jaskier having an exhibition kink.

When your boyfriend said he was dropping out of university to start a band you expected a few things. One was moving out of your flat to find a smaller one that would be easier to afford on one pay check. Another was to spend too many nights hanging about in dive bars to listen to him strum away at that guitar, listening to honeyed words and watching ringed fingers move over the frets at speeds while trying not to focus on the silly Bart Simpson sticker in the lower corner. The thing you expected the least, however, is exactly what's happening to you now: being fingered in the back of a tour bus.  

The tour bus itself you probably could have guessed. Jaskier is overwhelmingly talented, you knew he would do well with music, even if his stupid song about his weird best friend hadn't gone viral and ended up on Billboard's Hot 100. The fingering too was always on the cards, but the two together? No. You never would have assumed that was on the cards. It seemed too much like something from one of those tabloid magazines piled up by the self-checkout in any store, kinda fantastical and something that happens to other people, not you. You work in a bar between classes, and girls like you don’t have this happen to you, but it’s happening none the less. It’s dizzying, but not as dizzying as his fingers are.  

His fingers, stupidly talented fingers, are moving at such a lazy pace you could cry, alternating between crooking and scissoring the digits as if you both have all the time in the world. You guess you do. It was a good show, and his hand is moving at a pace that would make that clear even if you hadn’t been watching the whole thing. He takes his time after shows where everything goes as they should, still riding the high of screams of his name. Thrusting and spreading fingers, moving and searching for your g-spot, have you trying to cover your mouth, but he pulls your hand away with his free one to press sweet kisses to your palm. A jacket, gaudy and dyed a mint green with pins and badges along the lapels, is on the floor at your feet; it had served as a pathetic attempt to at least vaguely mask what is going on between the two of you while Geralt had been searching for his own jacket before going to meet his not-quite-girlfriend. He had figured out what had been going on, you suppose, seeing as he had made a sharpish exit after you had moaned but Jaskier had pushed his tongue into your mouth by that point, and maybe he just thought the two of you were very into kissing. It wouldn’t be the first time it had ever happened.

Performer that he is, Jaskier's got an exhibition kink a mile wide, one you know all too well.  

First year, when he was dorming with a prick called Valdo Marx, Jaskier made it his mission in life to make you cum until you screamed every time you had sex. Second year had seen you and him fucking in the untouched music theory section of the Oxenfurt library so often that you’re still surprised you weren’t caught. But those were different; you hadn’t given a shit about if Valdo Marx knew that Jaskier could make you cum six times in one night and knew there were no cameras in the dingy third floor corner that housed music books that no one ever came looking for. Here though? Here is something completely different. Even with the tour bus being empty you feel far too exposed.  

“God, Little Miss, you’re fuckin' soaked.” He sighs out, rubbing the heel of his palm into your clit leisurely. You are. Each ministration of his fingers has a soft moan coming from you. He’s grinning, ocean-eyes glittering at the sight of what he's doing to you, and you don’t know if you want to kiss or kill him. “You really must have liked the show.” You did, but that wasn’t the point. It wasn’t even the show you had enjoyed, not really, it was the sight of Jaskier strutting about on stage: glowing from the pure joy of performing, winking in your direction with every song, the gruff way his voice turned to a growl in songs about your sex life. He’s a god, an idiot and everything in-between, and you have absolutely no idea what the fuck you must have done in a past life to deserve him.  

“Fuck off, Julian.” Is all you can manage in response before another moan is torn from you, muffled by you biting your lip. You don’t need to be quiet, not now, all of his band mates and security have long since left the bus, but still you’re determined to be quiet.

Quiet infuriates him. He cannot stand the quiet, you think it’s the musician in him that just can’t let the quiet be, he spends so much time making noises with his hands- drawing beautiful sounds from every instrument he ever touches. Being silent is rebellion, to encourage him to try harder, so he does. A hand, soft but firm, pushes you onto your back- and when you glance to him, he’s smirking down at you, like how a dog eyes a steak before devouring it. The look would be enough to make a weaker woman worried, but you know it all too well, know those cornflower eyes and the path they always take from your own eyes to your tits and then down to your cunt, how to roaming of his eyes has his pupils growing wider and darker. Feral. Your thighs are pushed up without warning, pressed into your stomach while those clever fingers are tugging your jeans and panties down so he can see you fully. A gentle breeze passes across your soaked slit, which makes you shiver and Jaskier grin. The position is not the most comfortable in the world, but it’s worth it when you hear the weak moan that comes from the man leering over you; dazed and grinning at the sight of your soaked sex.  

“Melitele's tits, Dear Heart, you’re fucking beautiful.”  

“Flatterer.”  

“No, just a man with eyes.” He smiles and thrusts his fingers back into you, struggling to remove your jeans with one hand. “A man lucky enough to have you, Little Miss.”

He’s forgotten your shoes, the muttered curses he lets out when he gets your clothes down to your ankles makes it obvious and you laugh. Of course, he did. Of fucking course he forgot about your shoes. He’s been all over you from the moment he got off stage, but now he’s found an obstacle, and it was entirely because he didn’t give you a second to kick off your boots.  

The laughter dies on your tongue though when he slaps your thigh playfully. He’s trying to look indignant, but you can see the smile in his eyes even if it doesn’t quite reach his lips yet. It isn’t enough power to hurt, but it is enough to make you stop laughing and smile up at him.

“Are you laughing at me, Little Miss?”  

“I don’t know. Did you forget I had shoes on?”  

He flushes at that, gnawing at his bottom lip before thrusting a finger towards your face as fingers inside of you crook; drawing out a loud moan both from shock and pleasure.  

“Sorry I care more about making you cum than I do about you having shoes on. It would be weirder if I spent my time staring at your feet, don’t you think?”  

He’s right, but you just moan again and grab at his wrist. Crooking fingers finally hit that spot deep within you, your thighs shake and eyes roll back slightly.  

“There she is.” Jaskier coos, and you feel your boots be pulled from your feet, one by one, followed finally by your pants. “You close, Dear Heart?”  

“Yes...”  

“Oh I know, darling. I can feel you, you’re so fucking tight.” He leans over you and presses his lips to the crook of your neck. “Do you wish it was my cock, Little Miss? My cock just slamming into you while you grip me so fucking tight.” How his words are enough to have you teetering on the brink of oblivion is confusing but you can’t afford it any thought, no all you can do is chase his fingers with your hips, desperately trying to reach that perfect, blissful high. “I wish it was too, Dear Heart.”

“Jaskier-"  

“Or my mouth on you. You always did say I had a smart mouth. Could just lie down and let you just... use my mouth until you cum, so I can flip you over and make you cum, over. And over again.”  

His fingers slow slightly, but there's so much more power in the thrusts now, clearly trying to send you over the edge. He’s hitting your g-spot over, and over, unyielding and unwavering. You’re close. So close, just a little more is all you need. For him to just duck his head down, lather his tongue across your clit and show you how that little death feels once more but...

He stops.  

“Jaskier!” You almost shout at him, moving towards him only for him to grasp the back of your head and kiss you- bypassing any nicety to push his tongue into your mouth and tugging you onto his lap. Cold, rough denim drags across your naked sex, and you remember suddenly how naked you are in comparison to him.  

“I want you to cum on my tongue or on my cock.”  

It’s going to be a long night.  

#jaskier x reader #jaskier imagine #jaskier smut #jaskier x y/n #jaskier x you #Modern!Jaskier x reader

[vands38]

2020 Witcher fic roundup

so, uh, it turns out I wrote a lot this year. I’m feeling sentimental so I’ve added my personal comments in italics. 

The Rumours Series. Geralt/Jaskier/Yennefer. M. 104k+ (WIP) approx ~120k when finished. fairly plotty ot3, set after season 1. 1) Tossing More Than A Coin. Jaskier POV. 6k. Jan 2020. My first Witcher fic! This was just fun nonsense and was 100% not meant to grow into a novel-length series. Ooops? 2) Indulging Desires. Geralt POV. 14k. Jan 2020. I remember writing that whole vampire plot and realising a) I love writing Geralt on a contract, and b) shit, now I’ve got to actually do something with this plot thread. (luckily it turned out to be a very useful plot device indeed)   3) Love, Destiny, and Other Such Bullshit. Yennefer POV. 25k. Feb 2020. So many people have been converted to Yennefer fans after reading this fic and that makes me so proud! 4) These Gifts He Give Me. Jaskier POV. 44k. Feb - Mar 2020. this is somehow an entire Geralt/Jaskier fic in itself but I have no regrets. 5) A Little Sentimentality. Yennefer POV. 16k. Aug - Nov 2020. I’m so glad I wrote the coming together from Yen’s POV. Not one of these idiots possess an ounce of emotional intelligence.  6) Home. Geralt POV. ~10k. Dec 2020 / Jan 2021. It’s so rewarding to finally be writing the ending that I’ve had in my head from the very beginning. I’m so thankful to everyone that stuck along for the ride. I promise you this final story very soon indeed!

give to you my silence. Geralt/Jaskier. G. 5k. a standard post-breakup fix-it fic. canon divergence wherein Jaskier realises Geralt needs his silence. Feb 2020. I just love how soft this one is. the handholding! the forehead touching!! I don’t think I’ve ever written a more tender version of Geralt. 

500 Crowns. Jaskier & Ciri. Geralt/Jaskier. M. 9k. Every year, Jaskier finds himself singing at Cintra’s court, watching Geralt’s abandoned Child Surprise grow up. Feb 2020. I love how this has become a popular trope??? I don’t know if I was the first one to write Jaskier checking on Ciri at Cintra but it’s my most kudos’d fic of the year and shortly afterwards I felt like I saw this idea everywhere! I just love that I might have been a part of that.

Julian. Geralt/Jaskier. E. 22k. Modern AU - Ballet. Jaskier was a child prodigy who burned out before he was sixteen. Now he's going from job to job with no aim in life until he meets Geralt Rivia - the famously strong ballet dancer who has also fallen from grace after an accident that he still blames himself for. Feb 2020. This was pure indulgence for me, but you guys made it so much more. I’m touched by all the comments I’ve received from those who were also child prodigies and are now struggling to get by, and those who have experienced the harshness of the creative sector first-hand and are still recovering, or those who frequently experience panic attacks or struggle with PTSD, to whom this fic meant something special to them. I’m so glad I wrote it. 

Lavender. Geralt/Jaskier. E. 84k. A love story in 30 (sex) acts. Apr - May 2020. I don’t have the words to express how much this fic means to me. Every time I felt despondent and depressed about this year I would tell myself “at least I wrote Lavender” because it honestly the proudest I have ever been of my writing. I know it’s a little self-indulgent. Okay, a LOT self-indulgent. But I LOVE it. I wrote the entire thing in a month and it was mad and wonderful and while my beta and I were working on it, I think we both felt it was something special, but it wasn’t until it was out there and you all thought that it was special too that I believed it. 2020 may have been a dumpster fire, but look, we have Lavender, and if someone as fucked up as Geralt can find a happy ending, then so can we, dammit! 

Return to Oxenfurt. Geralt/Jaskier. E. 90k+ (WIP) approx ~130k when finished. also set in the same verse - Gwent Addict (Gen, T, 3k). Trans Jaskier at canon-era Oxenfurt Academy. A fluffy fic, featuring soft! understanding! Geralt and genderswapped Valdo Marx. May 2020 (- approx May 2021). I was so nervous about writing this fic but so, so, glad I did. I know a lot of you see yourselves reflected in Jaskier’s story, and although it’s a lot of responsibility to bear, it’s taught me a lot about editing and sensitivity reading and how to embrace responsibility without fear. this fic helped me get through this terrible year and I know a lot of you feel the same. it’s been keeping me sane, and I can’t thank the readers enough for coming on this journey with me. 

The Butcher. Gen. M. 3k. Renfri's ghost haunts Geralt as he attempts to pay the penance for Blaviken. July 2020. I have so many feelings about Blaviken that this angsty ficlet was inevitable. This one flew mostly under the radar but Gen fics generally do so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ 

Daylight. Geralt/Jaskier. M. 4k. established secret relationship due to canon-typical homophobia. Oct 2020. ngl getting a prompt like this was a dream come true for me. I will write romantic angsty goodness until my heart breaks... which it definitely did while writing this. 

Thinking of Blue Always. Geralt/Jaskier. T. 5k. Modern AU - Formula 1. Geralt is in a car accident and the Polish reporter, Jaskier, is apparently not as neutral as he seems. Dec 2020. I honestly thought Julian would be my only Modern AU this year but then this idea just grabbed me and wouldn’t let go. I’ve started writing a sequel for this but we’ll see what happens in the New Year.

so, uh, all in all this year, I’ve published 331k words for the Witcher, including three novel-length stories (Lavender, Rumours & Oxenfurt). my other writing has obviously lagged during this time (I only published 23k combined for Star Trek: Discovery, Skyjacks, and X-Files this year and barely wrote any original work at all) but writing this much with a singular focus has really boosted my self-confidence and I’ve loved writing for this fandom so, so, much. I don’t want to get too sentimental here but writing copious amounts of self-indulgent fic (and reading just as much in return) has made 2020 bearable and I don’t know where I’d be without this lovely fandom and you lovely people.

*clears throat* ANYWAY my asks are open if anyone wants to indulge me further. happy new year!!! <3

#the witcher #fanfiction #writing #lavender #return to oxenfurt #rumours series #julian #500 crowns #give to you my silence #f1 AU #ballet AU #daylight #the butcher #oxenfurtverse

[aminiatureworld]

Moonlit Words

Ship: Geralt x Jaskier

Warnings: Bit angsty

Premise:  For Jaskier the night is a time for thoughts and anxieties. For Geralt it is a time when his bard seems to get little sleep but disappears a lot. This situation becomes unbearable and the two finally have a conversation about themselves and their feelings for each other.

Author’s Note: Sorry for how long it's been since I've written! My mental health took a bit of a hit these past few weeks, so writing was slow going. Still, I hope you enjoy this, and I hope to be back to posting every five days soon!

My thanks to my readers in the endnote!

Ao3 link in reblog

        Jaskier could never say that he was unlucky for being alive. The things he’d experienced, even in the first years of his life, were the kind that children would dream of. For who could say that they’d traveled the Continent with a witcher, that they’d seen the edge of the world and had been gifted an instrument by elves, that they’d seen the absolute best and worst of humanity? Who could say that they met someone said to be a monster and had fallen hopelessly in love with them? For indeed, by now Jaskier could wholeheartedly admit that he’d fallen for Geralt, had crashed and burned, and was now in the process of being eaten from the inside out with the longing. Though he also knew to say anything might be an even more painful fate. So he’d said nothing. And indeed he was grateful, and lucky too. But sometimes it hurt a bit to keep it all inside. Especially after the mountain.

        Geralt had apologized of course, and Jaskier, as angry and hurt as he was, couldn’t say no to joining him again. Especially not after meeting Ciri, after hearing that Yennefer had gone missing. How could he leave Geralt to fend for himself in such a situation? So of course Jaskier went along with Geralt. But the bard couldn’t deny that there had been a shift in the relationship between the two and that the secrets Jaskier had once thought to reveal were now locked up firmly in his thoughts. Thoughts not only of his love for the Witcher but other things, like the trials of boyhood and long-gone friends and enemies. The worst thoughts were the anxieties that kept him up ungodly hours into the night. He’d toss and turn, head spinning round and round in a litany of despair. Jaskier wanted someone to confide in, needed it even. But there was no one, and he felt a bit like he was adrift on a dark sea, continued to corrode inside, wondering if there’d ever be some sort of reprieve.

         Geralt knew that something was wrong with Jaskier. At first Geralt had tried to ignore it, then he’d tried apologizing again, then he’d said nothing and simply watched as Jaskier seemed to slip farther and farther away. It was an agonizing thing to witness. Nightly there were the now-familiar sounds of Jaskier’s unrest, oftentimes resulting in him walking away from where the trio was camping. He’d leave for hours, hours in which Geralt felt every fiber of his being screaming at him to run after Jaskier. Not that he ever disappeared. Geralt knew Jaskier wouldn’t pull something like that, nor did Geralt have any false pretenses about Jaskier being able to defend himself against vagabonds and the like. Jaskier was lethal with a knife, something that secretly thrilled Geralt. Still, monsters were a different matter altogether, and though Geralt was always careful to camp where they’d be least likely to disturb any creatures lurking who knew where the bard went in the night. And the Witcher knew too well there were some things in the world worse than the monsters around oneself.

        That wasn’t the only alarm though. Geralt sometimes marveled that he’d ever complained about Jaskier talking too much. Not that Jaskier was completely silent, no, perhaps that’d be too obvious. Still, the times when Jaskier made stray comments about something he’d learned at Oxenfurt or asked questions about Geralt’s adventures appeared to be over. Now it was asking if he was going too slow, commenting about whether there’d be a storm, and every so often letting a short hum pass his lips before the melody inevitably stopped short, replaced by a nervous smile. It threw Geralt off guard, more than he’d like to admit, and suddenly the Witcher began to realize how little he knew of Jaskier’s thoughts, much less of his past. The contrast was even more apparent when traveling with Ciri, who was in the habit of mentioning things that reminded her of home or asking Geralt, and now Jaskier as well, about things such as her parents and her grandmother. Jaskier answered those questions readily enough at least, but now even Valdo Marx seemed to become forbidden territory, and when Geralt offhandedly mentioned the incident with the djinn Jaskier simply chuckled and pointed out a particularly lovely patch of daisies.

         The fire flickered lazily, reflecting perhaps the hot day that’d come before the night. These were the worst nights for Jaskier since sleep never came easily to him on the best of days it seemed, and the heat was bound to make things a hundred times worse. He’d tried to stave off the others, had spent extra time telling Ciri about various friends and acquaintances of her grandmother and parents, ignoring Geralt’s grumbling that fatigue was deadly for warriors. He’d even broken out the lute, something that hardly ever happened these days in front of other people, for his instrument had become a companion of the night when he could steal away from the campfire, rather than something to be enjoyed out in the open. It was too personal now. Still he’d sung a few songs, the usual fare that people at taverns liked best, and managed to get himself about an hour and a half of time before the inevitable grumblings from Geralt became snappish and it was time to sleep. Well, for the others to sleep at least.

        Jaskier lay down as always, throwing off the noisy blanket with the pretense it was too hot, and closed his eyes. He stayed like that for some time, waiting for Geralt’s breathing to hit the length and depth that betrayed the Witcher as fully meditative, before sitting up and grabbing his case. A part of him nagged at this stealing away once more, but it was easily ignored. He needed this, needed some time where he could be alone, could be fully himself, fully aware of all the pain and anxiety that was kept tightly corked in the daytime. So he looked around him, making sure that nothing was out of place from where he left it, and slowly crept out of the glade and into the welcoming trees beyond.

         Geralt’s surprise at Jaskier’s nighttime excursions had by this point vanished. It’d become such a routine part of the night that the Witcher couldn’t even find himself surprised at his companion’s reticence to lie down, his insistence on tiptoeing around the idea of going to sleep. Still, the whole activity sat wrong with Geralt, and this night was no different. Maybe it was even worse, for try as he might Geralt couldn’t stop the thoughts spinning round his head. Visions of broken ribs, twisted ankles, shadows that maimed and stabbed and killed, they all lined themselves up in an exhaustive litany in his head. It was ridiculous of course, Jaskier was many things but though the bard was sometimes foolish he was never an idiot. Still, perhaps Jaskier’s leaving and Yennefer’s disappearance had taught him something, for Geralt now stood up, rolling the stiffness out of his shoulders. He walked over to Ciri’s bedroll, shaking her gently. “Whaddya want?” came the response, for by this time Ciri had stopped jumping every time Geralt went to wake her up, something that had originally hurt the Witcher to see, a reminder of how many lives were ruined by the greed of men, a reminder that his family was a band of various survivors.

        “Jaskier went off, I’m going to look for him. You know where the weapons are. Whatever you do –“

        “Don’t fall asleep yeah, yeah.” Ciri sat up and waved her hand dismissively. “About time you go after the poor fellow, what’s it been three months?”

        “Yeah.” Geralt replied, impressed, as he’d never thought that Ciri would’ve noticed. The surprise must’ve shown somehow for Ciri smirked and made a pushing motion.

        “Go off and get Jaskier, he’s waiting, whether he knows it or not. Besides you’re all awfully annoying as you are right now.” Geralt shook his head and rolled his eyes, but still, a smile came to his face, and as he stalked out into the woods, trying to track where the bard went, he found himself thinking, survivors or not, he was very lucky with the family he had indeed.

        The moon was a sliver in the sky, barely enough light for a human to make out a few fingers in front of their face. Geralt, of course, had no issue picking himself throw the overgrown, well could one even call it a path? The marks of Jaskier on the other hand were much more evident, brambles bent and crooked, marks in the cool, wet earth. If someone had wanted to come after the bard locating him would’ve been no trouble. Still, the air seemed clear enough, and Geralt could hear no anomalies in the normal nocturnal comings and goings, something he found himself grateful for. Ears straining to hear any mark of the bard, Geralt finally caught a few scraps of Jaskier’s voice, although the sounds were hardly intelligible. Using Jaskier’s voice as a guide, Geralt found himself veering off the path, into a particularly lovely group of trees, all greenery, leaves puffing out in perfect circles like mushrooms, although the stars could still be seen through the gaps. Stepping silently near the one with the lowest branches Geralt made to call out, but finally, the words hit him, and the Witcher could do nothing but listen.

         “Well it’s not like I wouldn’t still like that bastard to rot. I mean really, the amount of groveling I did in my youth.” Jaskier sighed, leaning back into the cool comfort of the tree. It was really too easy to talk to himself. He was swallowed up by his own words. His lute was swung about his stomach, carefully protected from being smashed, but Jaskier had yet to play it. For now he was simply talking with himself, releasing all the pent up frustration. It wasn’t a two-way conversation, not by any stretch of the imagination, but in a way Jaskier didn’t mind that either. After all, didn’t other people always act like you said the wrong thing?

        “Not that I’ve stopped groveling. Damn it’s a miracle I left Geralt instead of beginning for forgiveness or something. Before coming right back of course! Can’t ever explain myself can I? Not that I still don’t love the damn idiot, but it hurt. It hurts to be disposable. But no one ever thinks like that do they? I don’t even think like that. Still, oh I don’t know. It hurts of course, but that’s nothing new.” Sighing Jaskier gazed up at the sky. “I wonder if the stars feel cold and lonely. Do they talk to themselves? Do the gods do so, all up in their marbled palaces, away from us all? Maybe they’re all lonely, and that’s the secret.” Sighing once more Jaskier made a halfhearted attempt to open his lute case. The cap he was wearing, really Jaskier now couldn’t live without his hats, fluttered off his head, and, too afraid to crush his instrument, Jaskier waited for the sound of it hitting the mossy ground beneath. When that didn’t come he leaned over, trying to keep his weight as centered as possible so as not to fall and wreck his lute, and, squinting a bit in the dark, found himself face to face with the last person on the Continent he’d like to have heard his ramblings.

        “Jaskier.” Geralt’s voice seemed odd to Jaskier’s ears. He loved Geralt’s voice, it’s deep tone and slow cadence, Jaskier had always suspected the Witcher could be one hell of a storyteller if he wished to be. Geralt’s voice was steadying, but now it only threw Jaskier into a whirlwind of emotions and thoughts, most of them various levels of embarrassment.

        “Geralt!” Jaskier’s voice on the other hand was quite squeaky, hardly the dignified tenor the bard was known for. Still, acting cool in such a situation was out of the question, for Geralt had surely heard it all, damn his witcher senses. “Why’re you here?”

        “Why’re you here?”

        “I… uh… I came to relax. It’s much too hot, even without the blanket. I’m sorry if I woke you up.”

        Jaskier could make out Geralt shaking his head, his hair seeming almost like liquid silver in the faint moonlight. “I knew you weren’t going to bed. You always sleep with a blanket, even in the hottest weather.”

        “Ah.” Jaskier wasn’t sure whether to be even more embarrassed or vaguely happy that Geralt knew his habits so well. The talking, however, was a habit that Jaskier would rather no one know about, witchers absolutely included. “Well, I’m sorry to worry you, but I’m alright, really. Just want to stay out and see the stars a bit longer. You don’t have to babysit me. I know you don’t like dead weight or anything like that. Go back to bed, I’m sure Ciri needs sleep too.” No way would Geralt leave Ciri asleep alone at night; Jaskier realized with a pang how much this excursion was costing others. Still, he couldn’t go back to sleep, not now.

        “You aren’t dead weight.” The reply was so unexpected Jaskier for a minute thought he’d imagined it, that this was one of his fantasies where Geralt was understanding and receptive, and, yes, as in love with Jaskier as he was with Geralt. The breath seemed to steal from Jaskier’s lungs, and a what was forming on his lips before Geralt continued. “You don’t have to go off to talk either. I… I’ll listen to them. I want to listen to them. I want to know more about you, like before.” Geralt’s head moved, showing the Witcher had moved his gaze towards the ground. “I want to know about your past. I want to know about your feelings. I want to know your thoughts, about yourself, about those around you. About,” the pause in the air was so charged Jaskier wondered if it would shock him, “me. You aren’t disposable. And I’m sorry. About the mountain. About making you feel like you aren’t important to me. You’re my companion. My family.”

         Geralt felt as if all the air had been knocked out of him. He usually didn’t like to talk much, stringing multiple sentences together felt somehow burdensome to others. Still, the words needed to be said. More needed to be said of course. Geralt’s feelings for Jaskier had always been warm. Jaskier was the sunlight in his life, a fire that danced and crackled, brilliant and flashy, yes, but warm and comforting too. He didn’t want to think about it, not even to himself. He wasn’t brave like Jaskier, couldn’t put those words out into the universe, where they’d have such power. Still, apparently keeping them locked up harmed instead of helped. He gazed up in the tree, could see the watery quality of Jaskier’s eyes, something that only made the blue of his irises more striking. The urged seized Geralt to climb up the tree and sweep the bard into a hug. To listen to the stories of the bastard who forced Jaskier to grovel, something that swept waves of anger and sadness through Geralt, so strong for a moment he couldn’t even pin them down. He wanted to listen to Jaskier, to respond so that the bard didn’t have to respond to himself. He wanted to do that and then to talk himself, to string those tricky sentences together, to bind them and throw them haphazardly into the world where they’d fall to Jaskier’s feet, like flower petals. He wanted Jaskier to feel less alone, to feel happy. He needed to say that. How though? There seemed such a barrier, why was there always a barrier?

        “Thank you.” Jaskier was speaking now, even as his eyes continued to water and his face redden. “I know this is unexpected. And I know you don’t talk much about it. About anything really, most silent man I know.” Jaskier huffed out an awkward laugh. “You don’t have to say that just to humor me though. I just need time for myself.”

        “You don’t need to say that, don’t need to make me leave you alone.” Geralt he knew this dance, had learned the steps himself at an early age. Tell everyone it’s alright. Push them away. Let the loneliness eat you up inside as long as no one else knows. “I meant those words. I want to listen. And I want you to have someone to listen to you. I’m not letting you humor me either.”

        “You don’t understand what that means. I’m fine.”

        “No, you aren’t. And you don’t have to haul ass in a tree to hide. I don’t understand. But I want to. And that’s it.” Geralt reached for the nearest branch, and quickly found himself sitting on the same level as the bard. “I won’t force you to talk. But I also don’t want you to pretend and then spend the better half of three months running away at night to let yourself get eaten up by the feeling you repress. You always defended me against people who said witchers didn’t feel things, right? Well, I’m defending you against whatever part of your mind tells you bards don’t feel things either.”

        “Alright.” Jaskier shook his head. “I’m tired. You win. But don’t act all surprised when you don’t like what you hear.”

        “Thank you. From now on?”

        “From now on.” Jaskier nodded. “But first, sleep.”

        “What?” Geralt looked a bit as if he’d been rammed by a horse, something that made Jaskier burst out into laughter, for it all seemed so wildly hilarious now, the entire situation.

        “You left Ciri to defend on her own, didn’t you? And talking to you is exhausting.” Jaskier gazed up through the tree. “The stars will be here tomorrow. Just like my troubles. One night won’t make them go away. Even hundreds of nights won’t.” Sliding down the tree, careful to protect his lute, Jaskier landed in the moss, Geralt close behind. “You sure you meant all you said?”

        “Yes.” Geralt seemed back to his reticent self. Jaskier felt the urge to slip into his regular persona as well, but it was too late for that. Besides, he thought to himself, I don’t want to hide who I am anymore. I’m tired. And, somehow, I think it’ll be alright. After all, no one’s offered to listen before. Jaskier suddenly felt his hand enveloped in warmth. Glancing down he saw his finger intertwined with Geralt’s.

        “You sure about this?” He blurted out.

        “Yes.” Geralt replied again. “And, Jaskier?”

        “Yeah?”

        “I… I may not… I mean… you’re my friend.”

        “I hope I am!” Jaskier joked, slipping into his usual bluster. Still, it seemed as if Geralt wasn’t quite done with his thought, for he shook his head again slightly, and plowed ahead.

        “You’re my friend. But also, you’re more than that. Witchers don’t have companions. Not with our lifespans, not with the danger we put ourselves through. But, if we were to have them, if I could choose a companion… you’d be mine.”

        It wasn’t quite the same thing as Jaskier’s ramblings, honestly, nothing could compare to those, but the bard smiled anyways. Squeezing his hand Jaskier suddenly felt light. There was still so much he had locked away, still, so much he’d buried and hidden. Still, it was as if, if only for a moment, there’d been a great flash, and hope had suddenly warmed his soul. It wasn’t quite the same thing, but it was enough. And if Geralt was truly going to listen, then Jaskier was so very lucky to be alive indeed.

My heartfelt thanks to the 20 people who liked my last post and the 4 people who reblogged it. I’m so sorry for the wait and every single like makes me feel honored and brings me joy. I hope to live up to your expectations as a fanfic writer and I hope you continue to enjoy my works!

#fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #the witcher #geraskier fanfiction #mine #geraskier fanfic #geraskier oneshot #so many tags...

[cowbpy]

Witcher Fics I Want

this is jaskier x geralt by the way. i couldn't sleep so i came up with these instead.

Skating AU

Jaskier is a figure skater and Geralt is a hockey player. Geralt plays for “the Witchers”. The two groups fight for ice time a lot. 

High School Teachers AU

Jaskier teacher choir or art. Geralt teaches History or Chemistry. All their students call them mom and dad. Ciri is their favorite. She is too smart for her classes so she hangs out with them after school and during lunch. They are oblivious and ciri is like “omg just kiss already!”

Pride and Prejudice AU

Its just pride and prejudice, but Jaskier is Lizzie and Geralt is Darcy. Geralt is emotionally constipated and cant handle his feelings so hes a dick instead. Basically just follows the plot of the book/movie and geralt proposes and gets turned down until he fixes himself. Georgiana is ciri she helps geralt win back jaskier.

Princess Bride AU

Jaskier is Buttercup and Geralt is wesley. Follows the movie kinda. Geralt is “killed” by the witcher then comes back pretending to be that to save jaskier from marriage to a shitty prince (valdo marx???).

The Little Mermaid AU

Jaskier is Ariel and Geralt is Eric. Jaskier is a mermaid who loves to watch people but some drowners (or ther water monster idk) is in the area he likes to watch and geralt gets knocked out saving jaskier who in turn saves him. He makes a deal to give up his voice to have legs so he can travel with geralt. Yennefer is Ursula i guess,,, idk.

Aladdin AU

Jaskier is Jasmine and Geralt is Aladdin. Jaskier hates being stuck in the palace and having to act like a royal. He sneaks out and geralt helps him escape some guard so he can play his lute in a market or something. Geralt is in love but doesnt think a prince would fall for him so he uses a potion or magic or something (yennefer helps??) to change his hair color and disguise himself as a prince. Takes jaskier for a ride on roach idk.

Falsettos AU

This is based off of falsettos the musical. Geralt and Yen divorce and geralt leaves to live with jaskier, but hes still trying to have a relationship with ciri and yen. I think triss would be marvin cause gay is always better. This doesnt have to be an exact copy of the story, but just an inspiration.

Theater AU

This would just be a one shot lol. i just think it would be funny. Jaskier is the lead actor and geralt is on crew. thats it lol.

Coffee Shop AU

Jaskier works as a barista at a little cafe and falls for the guy (geralt) who always come in and sits in the corner reading and only orders a plain black coffee. Jaskier is a gay disaster and his coworkers know it.

Disney World AU

Geralt brings ciri to disney world for a weekend and Jaskier is playing her favorite prince (idk which one just pick) and they go and visit him everyday they go.

Drag Queen AU

Jaskier is a drag queen at a club (goes by dandelion or buttercup) and geralt is the bouncer/security. Someone gives jaskier a hard time outside f the club after closing and geralt saves him and walks him home.

Public Transport Musician AU

Geralt takes the subway everyday and jaskier is always playing in the station. One time he gets on the train with geralt and they talk. Jaskier shares that on weekends he plays at a club and geralt goes and sees him.

Self Defense Lessons AU

Jaskier moves to a big city or something and wants to take self defense lessons and geralt is the instructor. Jaskier can not handle geralt pinning him down and straddling him.

Neighbors AU

Jaskier and Geralt live next to eachother in an apartment building. Jaskier is always knocking and asking for extra flower or help fixing something. At first geralt hates it but it becomes endearing and then one day geralt asks jaskier for help with something and thats when they get together. Yen and Triss live across the hallway and laugh as it goes down.

Mandalorian/Star Wars AU

Geralt is apart of a bounty hunter clan (the mandalorians/witchers) and is supposed to find a child and deliver it to some bad people (its ciri/baby yoda) but doesnt and adopts her. Jaskier come in at some point idk how tho.

Gym Training AU

Trans!Jaskier wants to get buff so he passes better and gets trained by geralt. thats it.

Role Reversal AU

Jaskier is a witcher (he still has a smaller frame. I think hes more of an assassin and more stealth based.) and Geralt is a moody musician (i dont think he sings) Somehow geralt gets tied up with one of jaskiers hits and that how they end up travelling together. Jaskier is jealous that geralt is still huge and jacked despite being a musician.

Gender Bend AU

I just want a big muscly lesbian geralt. Jaskier is a cottage core lesbian. otherwise nothing changes.

You’ve Got Mail AU

Jaskier owns a smaller bookstore thats going to be swallowed up by witcher co. books. Just follows the movie plot. I read a really good youve got mail au fic a long time ago and i want more.

Fake Relationship AU

This is honestly my favorite au and ive yet to see it in the witcher fics. Jaskier lied to his family that hes in a relationship so that theyd stop trying to set him up, but they come to visit so he has to get Geralt to pretend to be his boyfriend. or Jaskier gets a chance to go to a resort or on a cruise and play for the guests but its a married couples only thing so he brings geralt along and they have to pretend to be a happy married couple. Triss and Yen are there and onto them the whole time.

Soulmate AU

i havent seen any witcher fics with a classic soulmate au. there is plenty to pick from. One could be matching birthmarks and jaskier ( or geralt) figures out that the other has the matching birthmark but is scared to tell cause “witchers cant feel”

Mechanic AU

Jaskier keeps “accidentally” breaking things so the hot mechanic will come fix it.

Circus AU

geralt is a strong man or “beast” tamer and jaskier is some artsy shit idk. Concept: jaskier is a trapeze artist and he sings while he does it so hes the “song bird”. Yen can be a fortune teller or some shit.

PLEASE let me know if you right a fic going off of these or if you find one similar to one of them that youd think id like. Im shit at writing myself, but im a pretty ok editor so let me know if you need a beta reader

#the witcher #geralt x jaskier #geralt #Jaskier #witcher fics #netflix #i need this #please

[whitewolfandthefox]

12,and 14 for dialogue prompts with geralt and friend reader?

Dialogue 12: “I miss moments like this more than anything.”

Dialogue 14: “You were meant to be watching him!”

Warnings: fluff, pure fluff, see guys? I can be nice

Words: ~2.2k

Masterlist

Add yourself to my taglist!

Summary: Geralt x friend!reader, Jaskier x friend!reader. Geralt and Jaskier stop by after Jaskier sustains an injury. Chaos ensues.

The Witcher and the Lute

“Thank you,” you murmured as you were handed a hot mug, Geralt groaning as he lowered himself into a chair next to you. You chuckled as you watched him, tucked into your own chair on your porch, covered in a blanket. You sighed as you returned your attention to the sky, watching the colours that spread across it as the sun rose. You loved mornings like this, seeing the dew glisten on the grass as it slowly dried, the sun rays glancing off of them, the fog slowly lifting as the sun chased it away.

“It’s nice to just sit and watch the sunrise,” Geralt glanced over at you. “I don’t get to do this much anymore, Jaskier is not a morning person.” 

You giggled, “I like it every once in a while. The world is quiet and calm in the mornings, it’s a nice time to centre myself.” You rolled your head to look at him with a gentle smile. “I miss moments like this more than anything, just being able to spend the mornings with you.”

Geralt drew a hand down his face, looking weary. “I don’t.”

You had been woken last night by Geralt pounding on your door, dragging an injured Jaskier behind him. You had let them in without saying a word, working on Jaskier into the early hours of the morning. He was resting now, wrapped in blankets on your bed. He had taken a nasty fall and split his head open and the wound wouldn’t stop bleeding. Geralt had had to give him some of his blood clotting potion, which was toxic to humans in the long run. You had cleaned and stitched the wound and then spent hours fighting Jaskier’s fever down.

Now that he was sleeping peacefully, you and Geralt were resting on your porch with a hot drink. Your smile slowly slid off your face. “Yes, he really is clumsy, isn’t he. He’ll be ok though, Geralt. He’s just sleeping now.”

Geralt hummed in acknowledgement and the two of you fell quiet once more, the silence broken by the clucking of your chickens and the singing of the birds as they welcomed the start of a new day. A while later, once you had finished your drink, you set the mug aside and stood. You stretched, a groan leaving your lips as your joints popped, stiff from having sat either at Jaskier’s bedside or curled up in the chair for hours.

“I’m going to check on Jaskier quickly before I head into town. I used up the last of some of my herbs last night and I need them to make his next dose of medicine. I’ll take Charlie, but I’ll be a couple of hours yet. The markets should just be opening by the time I get there.” Folding the blanket, you set it on your chair. “I might just pick up his next dose while I’m there.”

Geralt grunted his acknowledgement, standing and making his way towards your stables. You knew he was going to saddle Charlie for you and make sure you had everything you needed for the short trip. Charlie was a bay horse that the Witcher had gifted to you, Roach had apparently been a female and pregnant when Geralt had gotten her. She gave birth in your stables and you had raised the foal by hand, Roach was always happy to see him when they came back. As for the name, well, Jaskier had chosen the name for the small horse, and no matter what you tried, it had stuck.

You refused to take payment from the Witcher for your services, even though he used them semi frequently. He had saved you from a monster several years back, and this was your way of repaying him. Geralt came by a couple of times a year, most often when he was injured, but you were glad to see him when he did. It sometimes got lonely, far away from the village as you were.

Checking on the bard, you smiled as you smoothed his hair away from his face, laying the back of your hand against his forehead. You frowned slightly, his temperature was still higher than you would have liked, but it was acceptable. You dipped a cloth into the bucket next to his bed before wringing it out and laying it on his forehead. Jaskier’s face relaxed further in his sleep at the touch of the cool cloth, a sigh escaping his lips. 

Satisfied, you turned and left the house, seeing Geralt standing with Charlie fully saddled and waiting for you. The horse danced, throwing his head in anticipation of the journey ahead. You thanked Geralt as you mounted, taking the reins into your gloved hands. 

“Keep an eye on him, Geralt, if you don’t mind. He may wake up soon and he will be disoriented from the medicines I gave him. Make sure he stays in bed and is resting, I don’t want his fever coming up anymore.” Geralt nodded in response and stepped back, allowing you to turn the horse’s head towards the village, watching until you turned a corner and were out of view.

**~*~*~*~**

Knowing you would be several hours until you were back, Geralt stuck his head inside to check on Jaskier before getting to work. He knew you wouldn’t take money as payment, but he could do some of your chores instead. Returning outside, he grabbed the ax sitting next to the woodpile and started splitting wood. After he finished that, he moved over to your chicken coop, fixing the hole that had been torn in it by a rogue coyote.

Chores completed, he brought Roach out of the stable and took her tack off, letting her roam as he worked on repairing her saddle and oiling the leather. That done, he moved on to grooming Roach herself, working the knots out of her mane and tail. He put Roach back into the stable before going inside, brushing himself off as he went. He called to the bard as he went, not wanting to surprise him if Jaskier was awake. Entering the room, he stopped short at the sight of the empty bed, blankets thrown to the ground.

“Fuck.”

**~*~*~*~**

You rode back into the clearing to find an odd sight waiting for you. Geralt was sitting in the middle of your lawn, banging on Jaskier’s lute as he loudly called the bard’s name, the combination of his rough voice and the off-tune music making a discordant sound that filled the small clearing. Dismounting, you tied Charlie to the hitching railing next to the stable before approaching the Witcher cautiously.

“Umm, Geralt?” The man in question jumped at your voice, obviously having been caught unawares. Your concern grew as you realized he hadn’t heard you approaching. “What are you doing?”

Halting his strumming, a sheepish look came over his face as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Erm, I may have, umm, misplaced the bard?”

You stared at him. “You what?”

“Heh, I don’t know… where Jaskier… is.” The Witcher spoke haltingly as you slowly pale, not liking the expression that was slowly appearing on your face.

“You don’t know where he is.” 

“Ah, yeah, pretty much.”

You turned and marched towards the house as Geralt scrambled to his feet behind you. “Y/N?”

You whirled towards him, throwing your hands up in the air. “You were meant to be watching him! I left you with one job, Geralt, one job! Watch the bard! And you couldn’t handle that! Now I have to go find a sick Jaskier who has wandered off, and I have no idea where he would be.”

Turning back around, you continued towards the house to grab various healing supplies. As you went, you threw back over your shoulder, “Find him Geralt, or so help me, Melitle won’t be able to save you.”

You could hear the discordant sound of the Witcher and the lute started up again in the background, cursing to yourself under your breath as you went. You quickly searched the house, not finding the missing bard, before heading into the woods as Geralt continued playing in the clearing. You heard a cry of success as you returned to the clearing, the jarring sound of the lute continuing.

Exiting the trees, you allowed a small smile to form on your face as you saw Jaskier emerging from the trees, Geralt gently placing the lute on the ground as he strode towards the bard. A frown appeared on Jaskier’s face as he muttered something about needing to find his muse as he turned and walked back into the trees.

Geralt’s face turned frantic as the bard started to disappear, all but leaping back towards the instrument on the ground as he continued to play the lute. Jaskier turned back around again, coming further out of the trees, drawn by the sound of music. You snuck over to the bard, laughing as Geralt started backing towards the house, continuing to bang on the poor instrument. As you got closer, you could hear Jaskier muttering curses under his breath.

“That total sod, no idea how to play a lute properly. Should’ve done something about Valdo Marx when I got the chance, stupid talentless waste of a bard. No, not even a bard. Geralt, where did that djinn go? I need those wishes.”

Gently settling yourself underneath the bard’s arm, you took some of his weight as he continued to move towards the lute, and the house behind it. You got him settled in bed, handing him a potion to drink, promising to make Marx give him the lute once he drank it. As he drifted off to sleep again, you rounded on Geralt, narrowed eyes making the already pale man whither beneath your gaze.

You marched outside, not checking to make sure the Witcher was following, knowing that he would. You turned on him as you reached the centre of the clearing. “What the fuck, Geralt? Did you see what I meant? You left him alone and he got out!”

“Yes, but I also got him back.” The Witcher pointed out, hoping to calm you now that nothing bad had happened.

“Okay, but you also lost him in the first place! You wouldn’t have had to find him had you not lost him!” You threw your arms up, almost at your wit’s end with the stupidity of the pair. The dense idiot in front of you couldn’t figure out why you were mad in the first place. Sighing, you shook your head as you moved towards Charlie, intending to remove his saddle and rub the horse down before putting him back in the stable, done with Geralt’s antics.

As you were stripping the horse, you could feel Geralt approaching you. “I am sorry, Y/N. I didn’t mean to forget about him, I just wanted to get some chores done for you.”

Again you sighed as you leaned your head against the horse. You seemed to be doing that a lot because of these two. “I know, Geralt. I just worry when you two get hurt.”

You felt a hand on your arm, allowing yourself to be pulled against the hard chest next to you as Geralt wrapped you in a hug. “I do my best to keep us in one piece, you know that. And when I can’t, we trust you to put us back together.”

You wrapped your arms around his middle, leaning into him, allowing yourself to be soothed by his warmth and embrace. Remembering the scene you walked into, you started to giggle. You could feel Geralt pull back to look down at you, a confused expression on his face. “What’s so funny?”

“You, the lute, Jaskier.” You tried to get out, breathless as you dissolved into a full blown belly laugh, unable to speak in proper sentences. A sheepish grin crossed Geralt’s face as he realized what you were laughing about.

“Ah, I thought he would come for that. He never lets me touch that stupid thing, so I figured it would be the same even if he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on.” You could feel the vibrations against your cheek as he chuckled as well, happy now that he knew you weren’t mad at him and that Jaskier was safe.

You pulled back from him, wiping the tears of mirth from your eyes. “C’mon, you big lug, let’s go get dinner ready for when Jaskier wakes up again.”

The occasional chuckle left you as you walked, sensing Geralt catching up to you. “Thank you,” came the quiet sentence.

“Don’t mention it.” You swatted at him as you said this before falling silent. Your friendship had its ups and downs, but at the end of the day your small trio trusted each other without question. You would be sad when they left, but would look forward to the day they trundled back into your small yard once more. 

**~*~*~*~**

Add yourself to my taglist!

Taglist: @riviawitch3r / @jensensjaredsandmishaslover / @ayamenimthiriel / @uncoolcloudyhead / @secretsthathauntus / @vintage-mind-young-body / @creamysacrilege / @hina-chans-stuff / @bastardfruitsandbasil / @shewritesinthethirdperson / @widowvinter / @unnamedmaincharacter​ / @thenocturnalsyren​ / @loudlycolorfulkryptonite​ / @whatawildone / @geraltmrwitcher / @psychosupernatural / @chickennooget69 / @widowvinter / @just-antiyou / @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot

#geralt x friend!reader #jaskier x friend!reader #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x reader insert #geralt x you #geralt x yn #geralt x y/n #jaskier x reader #jaskier x reader insert #jaskier x you #jaskier x yn #jaskier x y/n #the witcher #netflix the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fandom #geralt fic #geralt fanfic #geralt fanfiction #the witcher fic #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #jaskier fic #jaskier fanfic #jaskier fanfiction #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x yn

[sarcastic-space-gal]

The Dancer with Golden Earrings (Part 2)

Summary: The bard and the reader travel together, hoping to find a job once in Brugge. However, more they get to know each other more they’re afraid to part from one another;

Pairing: Jaskier x Reader;

Word Count: 2k;

Warning: Slow burn? (or my attempt at it);

A/N: Here is the second part of “ The Dancer with Golden Earrings”, if you haven’t read it, here is Part 1. As always, feedback is appreciated. I hope you’ll like it. Love you all xoxo. 

The cool breeze of the morning caressed the leaves making them rustle and creating a peaceful melody. The sun was still faint behind the hills as the birds chirped before vanishing in the early lights of dawn. The only other sounds were a horse neighing and-

“No.” said a voice, sternly.

“Geralt come on!” Jaskier lowered his tone after seeing few people around him snap their heads toward him “She will travel alone!”

“The answer is still no”

The bard sighed “You weren’t so disappointed when you asked me to come with you”

“I did not ask you, you followed me”

“That’s because I knew you needed some company on your way to kill monsters” said Jaskier cheerfully pointing his finger to Geralt.

The witcher grumbled, quickly turned his head and came back to fix his bags on the saddle while the bard smile faded as he placed his fists on his hips. But Jaskier knew how to coax his friend, touching his inner protective side.

“So you are letting a young, unarmed woman wander these dark and dangerous forests, even knowing she’ll probably be at the mercy of some foglers, leshies or even giant centipedes?”

Geralt slowly made eye contact with him, a serious expression on his face. Bingo, thought Jaskier.

The witcher’s eyes glanced behind the bard’s shoulders were you stood saying farewell to the chamberlain, while giving him a respectful bow and a small smile.

Besides Jaskier constant ranting if he refused to let you come with them, he remembered how kindly and friendly you had greeted him, even after knowing he was a witcher. Moreover, Jaskier was right about all the forest’s creatures lurking around Cintra.

Geralt glanced back into Jaskier’s eyes and grumbled again.

“Fine.”

“I knew it! Lady Y/n, come here there’s a place for you on Roach”

“Nobody touches Roach, Jaskier!”

The first few hours of walking were occupied by the bard’s tales and by your interested comments in regard to those stories.

“And from that day, they all call him White Wolf, thanks to me” said Jaskier “I composed at least three ballads out of that”

“I’m sure they have been all very successful” you smiled watching your steps.

“Well, I can’t deny that” he smirked.

Laughing you looked up to the witcher, who was riding his horse ahead of you two.

“Oh, I still haven’t had the chance to thank you for letting me come with you” you mentioned while stepping over a fallen tree.

Geralt slightly turned his head to the side revealing his profile but not fully making eye contact with you.

“It was Jaskier’s idea” he simply said.

You turned to him and even if you weren’t sure, you could have sworn you saw a glimpse of redness on the bard’s cheeks.

“I thought this wasn’t the right place for wandering alone” he said with a nervous smile “Mostly for a lady”

You couldn’t help but feel flattered by his interest or… concern? No, it was probably an act of chivalry, you thought.

“This is wouldn’t be the first time that I travel alone, but I quite enjoy some company” you responded, winking at him.

Few days went by, you arrived in some small cities east of Cintra but luck was not by your side: no jobs, neither for you nor them, so you decided to head far east, hoping to find a better opportunity. To be honest, you were not mad at it. Geralt and Jaskier were an odd pair of travel companions as they sometimes made yourself ask how could they even be friends, due to their evident differences. Geralt was quiet most of the time, easily irked by the bard’s enthusiasm and his keen singing but they seemed to get along, nonetheless. Little did you know, they felt the same for you: Jaskier was always by your side, playing his lute or talking about new ideas he had for his ballads, happy to have found someone who gladly listened to him, meanwhile Geralt was delighted to have found some peace from the bard and not having to listen to him constantly.

All day went by and without even realizing it, the sun was already setting.

“We will stop here for tonight” Geralt dismounted, drawing his sword “I’ll find something to eat”

Placing your bag on the ground you watched as the witcher ventured into the forest. Finally, after a long day of walking, you sat down with a loud thud next to Jaskier.

“In just two days we will arrive in Brugge hopefully” you mentioned looking at the fire.

Jaskier seemed to think for an instant, then his face lit up.

“There’s the Spring Festival in Brugge!”

Both of you knew the annual festival always attracted many people and there was plenty of work for artists like you two.

“Oh, that’s true! I almost forgot it’s already spring time.” you squealed in excitement.

“If they want to listen to some good music and leave behind those old, awful ballads written by Valdo Marx, they cannot do it without me”

“A rival?”

“You can call him that. I prefer, pretentious pompous stuck-up minstrel”

“Uhh, I sense some bad blood” you chuckled “I have listened to those ballads and trust me there’s no competition” you assured placing your hand on the bard shoulder.

Jaskier’s lips curved in a genuine smile “Lady Y/n, you flatter me”

“Please, call me Y/n. Just Y/n”

“As you wish. We are already dropping the formalities”

You chuckled at his flirty comeback. After few days spent with him, you sort of got used to his antics and compliments, but you never got used to how those compliments made you feel.

“Let’s hope we have some luck this time”

“I’m confident we will find someone who’s looking for our service and not just any service. The best dancer around all the four kingdoms is coming their way. I’m sure you will find something” as soon as he finished the sentence a profound sense of sadness washed over him, even if he couldn’t quite understand why. Or maybe he could.

She will leave…, he thought. 

Why do I feel so upset about this? You knew it was just for some time, she has her life, someone to return to…

“What about you earrings?” he suddenly asked, trying to distract himself from his thoughts.

“What?”

“Well, you are known as “the dancer with golden earrings”, even if I prefer Y/n”

Giggling you glanced back at the fire “It’s a long story.”

“I love long stories.” he said, ready to listen to whatever you were going to say.

“But it’s also kinda sad…”

Jaskier instantly froze, worried to have touched a sore point “I mean if you want to tell it, if you don’t want to it’s ok-”

“Oh no no, it’s okay, it’s okay, it was a long time ago.” you lowered your glance “It all started when I was just a little girl. My parents were street artists, they traveled around the Continent trying to survive with just those little payments they received. My mother... she was so full of life, she loved to dance, she taught me all about it and my dad was a musician, together they performed in all four kingdoms. They were the happiest years of my life, but it didn’t last for too long… One day my parents were getting ready to go out on the street, just as every other day, when suddenly we heard screams from outside. I remember my mother screaming and shoving something in my pocket, I remember her tears, my father yelling to run away, my home burning down. What happened next is a just a confused and blurred memory, the only thing I remember is waking up in an unknown place, sobbing, asking where my parents were. One of my parents’ friend took my away and saved me, I could see the horror and the sorrow in her eyes while she told me I was now alone in the world. That day I lost everything, my parents, my home… the only thing I have are these earrings, that my mom gave me before dying. So, yeah, I travel alone more than you think”

Jaskier stood quiet for a bit, he just kept his eyes on you, then he simply murmured “I… I’m so sorry, Y/n”

You managed a small smile “I believe destiny has been cruel but I also think it has more plans for me. I know it”

When you turned your head toward him, Jaskier was glaring at you, silently.

“Do you believe in destiny Jaskier?”

Without breaking eye contact with you, he placed his hand on your knee tenderly.

“I do” his voice steady and clear.

You smiled.

The sun wasn’t up yet when you cracked your eyes open the next day. That would have been the last day of walk before arriving in Brugge even if you weren’t so happy about it. You knew that some coins could come in handy, but you couldn’t help but think you had to part from them. From him.

The day went by quickly as you tried to enjoy all the small things, even the bickering between Geralt and Jaskier, who never failed to make you laugh. When the sun eventually set, Geralt left as any other night to hunt, meanwhile you and Jaskier were left to light up the fire and set up the bedrolls for the night. Enjoying the fire’s warmth you placed your bag down and sat next to Jaskier who was now strumming his lute.

The night was already dark, the stars shined through the trees and Geralt was nowhere to be seen, but you knew hunting wasn’t a simple task, so you patiently waited for his return.

His fingers started moving on the strings, filling the air with a slow and gentle melody.

Jaskier started singing, just a little higher than a whisper, one of his most famous ballads. You loved  listening to his voice since the first time you heard it, back in Cintra. The bard was playing cheerfully around the room, making the audience sing and clap their hands and occasionally winking at the noble women, who were themselves really captured by the bard’s enthusiasm. And how could you not? you thought.

The rhythm of the music accelerated as your feet involuntarily began stomping on the ground and without thinking about it twice you got up and let the music take over you. Jaskier curiously followed you with his eyes, unsure about what you were doing and then smiled when you started dancing near the fire. Your arms, your hands, your fingers followed his voice elegantly in an almost hypnotic movement. He couldn’t help but thinking about how beautifully you danced, how naturally your legs rhythmically drew circles on the fallen leaves, how your golden hoops shined at the fire’s light. How breath-taking you were.

He gave a final, mighty strum of the lute as you playfully bowed, almost making contact with the ground with your head.

“Jaskier that was amazing!” you exclaimed getting up again.

“Your dance was superb!” Jaskier stood up as well, and without noticing it at first, you found yourselves mere inches away, making eye contact with each other.

Your breaths got caught in your throats as a strand of hair fell in front of your eyes. Few seconds passed in complete silence, just the crackling of the fire and a lonely owl screeching and hooting.

Jaskier’s eyes darted up to look at your head “You have something in your hair, umm… Do you want me to get it out?”

Too focused on his deep blue eyes to give a proper answer you just mumbled out something.

“Oh, umm, yes”

Jaskier slowly lifted his hand and grabbed the leaf that got stuck between your beautiful hair, the feeling of his palm so close to your cheek sent shivers down your spine.

The bard by now was surprised you still hadn’t heard his heart pounding so fast in his chest, he thought it would burst out of his ribcage. Your hair was soft

A sudden movement near the fire made the two of you break eye contact.

“Dinner’s here” Geralt dropped the carcass near the fire while his gold, feline eyes observed you, attentively.

With a quick step back you both parted from each other, hoping that the red light coming from the fire would conceal the warm sensation you felt all over your face.

“G-Geralt, you managed to come back after all” Jaskier mentioned trying to shift the attention to the motionless animal in front of the witcher.

“You can do it the next time” he grumbled “If you are not too...busy”

“Don’t be so prickly! I’m actually starving, let’s cook” said Jaskier approaching him.

Fortunately, their bickering draw the attention away from what was happening, even though you knew the witcher could see better than any other night creature and could hear anything even from far away.

The rest of the night you occasionally shared glances with the bard, your head was filled with thoughts, doubts, sensations, it was a mess, a complete mess. Why do I feel like this, nothing happened, stop being so silly, you thought. Looking at the two men you decided to focus on their conversation, trying to distract yourself.

“Geralt, are you sure Calanthe will give you his grandson? I mean you saw how she reacted with that sort of porcupine” asked the bard.

“I know she will, and even if she won’t, I will meet his grandson sooner or later”

“How can you be so sure?”

The witcher tossed something into the fire absentmindedly “Because it’s destiny”

Both you and Jaskier instantly looked at each other.

“And people who are destined to be together will always find each other.” 

Jaskier glanced at you before smiling. I hope you are right Geralt. he thought.

Part 3

TAG LIST: @alyxkbrl​

#jaskier x reader #jaskier imagine #the witcher imagine #the witcher fanfic #geralt of rivia #dandelion #netflix #joey batey

[angst-fairygodmother]

Parties (Valdo Marx x Reader)

For @heroics-and-heartbreak who is having a birthday. A/N: That little note in the wee hours of the morning was definitely not a mere (wholly meant and heartfelt) distraction in case I didn’t finish this in time... Word Count: 2150

Valdo had been acting strangely for weeks, oddly anxious, especially about your normally slightly lackadaisical travel schedule, and skittish when you tried to ask him about it. And even though you loved him and trusted him without question, you were starting to get a little bit annoyed and suspicious of his behavior.

“That’s it Valdo!” you snapped, planting your fists on your hips and staring him down. “Tell me what is going on. You’re rushing us like you’ve gotten an unexpected invite to a royal banquet. Only I know there isn’t any banquet. So what gives?”

“I know, my muse, that I have been acting peculiar and unfair,” he sighed, looking apologetically up at you through his long lashes. “But I promise, if you trust me just a little while longer, it will all be worth it. Can you do that for me?”

You jutted your jaw stubbornly. He reached out, pulling one of your hands away from your body so that he could lace his fingers through yours and bring it to his lips, planting adoring little kisses across your knuckles and trailing them down to the inside of your wrist. You tried to maintain your glare, but you practically melted into his touch and sighed.

“Fine, a little while longer. But this had better be good.”

~

You fussed and fidgeted with your laces for perhaps the twentieth time tonight as the carriage where you and Valdo rode bounced along the narrow road.

“Y/N, angel,” Valdo murmured, lips close to your ear and hand moving to cover yours, guiding it down into your lap instead of fiddling with your collar. “Please relax. There is nothing to be worried about.”

“But Duke Agloval is the ruler of Bremervoord.”

“And still just a duke. You have met kings and queens my love, and held your own against them stunningly. There is nothing to worry about. This evening will be fun, I promise.”

You bit your lip nervously and flashed him a shaky smile. “Alright, Valdo, I’ll try.”

“That is all I ask.” He reached over to brush a stray hair out of your face and smiled at you, leaving you momentarily breathless from the brightness of it and the glimmer in his emerald eyes.

When your carriage finally rolled to a stop, you had mostly talked yourself into being calm, if only to avoid embarrassing your lover.

Hopping lightly to the ground, Valdo reached back up to the carriage to offer you a hand, which you gladly took even though you probably could have alighted without assistance. Rather than releasing you, he tucked your arm into his, leading you down the long, cobbled path and up to the door. When the pair of you passed into the ballroom, you were momentarily startled to hear your name announced beside Valdo’s rather than simply being ‘and his guest’ as you usually were, but that shock was nothing compared to what you felt when you saw the sight before you.

Candles flickered in crystal globes around the room, some sitting on tables or pedestals but most suspended from the ceiling on delicate braids of silver and copper wire. Rich linens the color of the sea decorated every surface, and many had runners of a truer teal brocade down their centers. The air was thick with the heady scent of flowers coming from the bouquets of peonies and roses on the tables. You frowned, puzzled to notice how much of the room’s décor reflected your favorite things rather than anything more traditional of Bremervoord (or its parent-state of Cidaris), and at the fact that much of the crowd had stopped their actions to watch as you entered.

“Valdo,” you murmured, leaning close and feeling his curls tickle your face as you spoke. “What is all this?”

“Do you not know what day it is darling?” he asked lightly, waving the gathered people back to their dancing as he swept you into a move of his own as soon as your toes touched the polished floor.

“Of course I…” your jaw fell open, stunned. It was your birthday. Had he…?

“Are you telling me that you did all this for me?” you asked incredulously.

“Technically, I just called in the favors to have others do it for me, but yes. I’ve been planning and corresponding with the Duke for months. He owed me a few favors that I decided to cash in.” The grin on his face was of the cat that ate the canary, and you had a sneaking suspicion that his favors were not all granted in entirely good faith.

“Oh Valdo,” you sighed, eyes welling up with tears and feeling utterly overwhelmed. “It’s too much…you shouldn’t have.”

“Nonsense, I had to make sure it was only the best for you oh Pearl of my Heart. You deserve the world, and I wasn’t able to get that for you, so I had to do what I could.”

You smiled weakly at him, heart and nerves fluttering for entirely separate reasons, before pulling him close and resting your head on his shoulder, burying your face into his neck as you danced.

~

At some point during the evening, it had come time for you to open gifts from your guests (some of whom you actually knew, family and old friends and people you had met on your travels, but many more simply the nobles who had heard this was the event to be at). Your stomach twisted at the thought of what might be hidden in the colorfully and expensively wrapped parcels and how you were ever going to handle the attention of receiving them in front of a crowd of nearly two hundred.

Most of them turned out to be from Valdo: fine jewelry and extravagant clothing, a delicately engraved and embroidered saddle and set of tack (for the sturdy little brown mare that the duke proffered), a fine ivory toothed comb. You lost track of the number of clearly expensive things given, guilt at their cost rising higher and higher in your throat until it, along with the stress and pressure of the rest of such a public event, threatened to choke you.

Finally it became too much and you found yourself stealing away from your own birthday party during a moment where Valdo had disappeared to fetch you more wine. Collapsing with a sigh onto the rim of one of the fountains bubbling away in the castle gardens, you tried to steady your reeling head.

“Aren’t you the picture of godly grace?” a familiar voice teased from the shadows a short while later while you sat there running your fingers delicately through the pool. “I almost wish I were a painter in this moment rather than a musician, so I could capture this sight. Instead I shall just have to hold it in my heart until the day I die.”

“Valdo,” you said, trying to keep your voice from trembling. “What are you doing out here?”

“If you are here, Sweetling, then I can think of nowhere else I could possibly be.” His emerald eyes smiled at you, crinkling slightly at the corners, as he walked over to sit beside you, knees bumping. “Although I do have to wonder what the star of the hour, and every one of my hours, is doing absconding from their own party?”

You turned away, suddenly finding yourself unable to look at him directly, instead locking eyes with his reflection in the moonlight.

“I know you went through all of this effort, and I really do appreciate the gesture but…it’s just not me. It’s too much. I felt like I was suffocating in there.”

“I…” he trailed off as you held up a hand gently, his eyebrows pinched together in worry.

“It was a lovely thought to put together this party and those magnificent gifts, but I would have liked a quiet dinner with you under the moon and stars, the two of us tangled in each other’s arms for the night, just as well, or even better, than all this.”

“Of course you would have,” he sighed, face falling forlornly. “I should have known that. I wasn’t thinking enough of you when I…will you wait here, darling, for just a bit for me?” he asked, giving your hands a brief squeeze as he stood, a new determination on his face.

You nodded. “I would wait here for a thousand years if you asked, Valdo. You know that. Although I think my limbs might go a little numb by then.”

He chuckled, bending down to kiss you sweetly, all too soon pulling away despite you trying to chase after him. As your eyelids fluttered back open, all you caught sight of was his retreating back.

~

You were sure nearly an hour had passed while you sat by the fountain, waiting for Valdo to return. You weren’t particularly keen on returning to the party, but you were growing chilly as the shadows lengthened around you. You were just starting to consider breaking your promise and going back inside to look for him when Valdo reappeared from through the hedge.

Pausing before you, he reached out a hand. You placed yours in it, feeling the warmth of his long fingers curling around you as he tugged you up from your seat and into his arms. Cupping your jaw gently he kissed you with a slow, steady passion that threatened to send you back to the fountain rim, legs feeling weak beneath you in its wake. His tongue traced patterns and promises against your own and you threaded your hand through his curls, not letting your other hands part. Reluctantly, he pulled back to let you breathe, resting his forehead against yours.

“I’ve one more thing for you, love, if you’ll give me one more chance?” he whispered, lips and facial hair still tickling as they barely brushed against your skin.

“One, a hundred, a thousand,” you murmured in answer, licking your lip slightly in the hopes of tempting back into the kiss.

Instead, he pulled away, using your interlocked hands to lead you down a twisting garden path. You whined at the loss of his body heat, shivering slightly in the night. Noticing this, he shrugged off his lush burgundy doublet without pausing and draped it over your shoulders. You pulled it closed around you with your free hand, inhaling the sharp, spiced scent of him and admiring the way his now exposed black shirt clung to his lithe form.

Suddenly he stopped, blocking your view of whatever was in front of him with his body. Covering your eyes with his hands, your back pressed to his chest he spun you, swinging you around in a wide, circle, almost like the waltz you had danced earlier except that you were backwards, before coming to rest.

“I hope this makes up for my mistake,” he purred in your ear before sliding his hands away from your face.

You gasped at the sight before you. A smooth green blanket stretched over the grass of this open part of the lawns, and sitting off to one side of it was a tray with a pair of pewter goblets and a pitcher of wine. Several of the little candle-globes sat strategically around the blanket, lighting everything with a soft, warm glow. In the center, sitting like a crown jewel on display, was his lute.

“Before you had even finished saying it, I knew this is what I should have done,” he said, arms still wrapped around your middle. “Shall we sit?”

You nodded, not wanting to leave his hold but also longing to feel what the soft-looking blanket was like beneath you.

Gently, he picked up his lute, cradling it close as you settled and strumming a soft cord. It wasn’t long before he lost himself in playing and you lost yourself in him. This song was new, but so beautiful that you thought you might cry, and he was so beautiful and so in his element, peaceful and happy, that you did cry.

Noticing the tears rolling silently down your cheeks, he set the instrument aside, cupping your face so his thumbs could brush them away.

“Y/N?” he asked, tilting his head to one side. “Why are you crying?”

“Because this is perfect,” you whispered back, smiling.

“Only the best for you, star of my eye and treasure of my soul.”

He leaned in to kiss you once more, cradling your body against him as he laid you back on the blanket. You wrapped one hand around his shoulders, the other tangling into his hair, relishing in the familiar warm weight against you. You moaned softly, melting into him as his hands roamed and caressed you and his tongue danced with yours and he poured every ounce of love he possessed for you into your union.

“Happy Birthday, Y/N.”

#so I was originally going to write you a Klaus x Reader fic #and then /someone/ popped up and decided that was unacceptable #so Douche Prince it is #I'm sure you don't object #Happy Birthday! #Valdo Marx x Reader #The Witcher fic #reader insert #Valdo Marx #It was looking a little hairy there #but I got it done before midnight #and I like the result #and for that I am proud #I hope you like it too #Joz gets their own tag now

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Valdo Marx angst: “what do I even mean to you”

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Valdo x Reader Word Count: 1,944 Rating: T Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @mycat-is-mylove @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @kemmastan​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @writingstudent​ @mlleecrivaine​ @coffee-and-stories​ @amirahiddleston​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @astouract​ @your-not-invisible-to-me @daydreamer-in-training a/n: This is kind of a continuation of the angst drabble I wrote for Valdo yesterday. I hope you like it!

He returned in the middle of the night, stumbling drunk and with an equally intoxicated woman on his arm. You were roused from your sleep at the sound of their cavorting and when you reached the front desk, padding to it in your bare feet with a shawl hastily thrown over your shift, the woman had him pressed up against one of the wooden beams in the inn. She seemed to be trying to swallow him whole and he seemed to be trying to do the same. It was a horrific game of tag and your stomach lurched at the sight.

“Valdo?” you said, pulling his attention to you. Glassy emerald green eyes found yours and a strange look crossed them, a hurt that was quickly replaced with cold bravado.

“Ah, yes, Y/N, my companion and I are looking for a room for the night,” he slurred. You opened the ledger, counted the available rooms, and then shut it and looked back up at him.

“We’re fully booked,” you lied. You knew if your boss heard you saying this you’d catch hell but you couldn’t watch this. Couldn’t let it unfold under your roof. Not again. Not after the last time you’d seen each other. It was just a hug perhaps but you’d been sure that there was something more. Now that you saw him, the woman draped over him like a second cloak, you felt stupid and bitter and you were eager for him to leave your sight. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion and he leaned over the counter, the smell of whiskey ripe on his breath.

“Not a single one?” he asked, “Not even for me?”

He purred the words and your eyes widened with incredulity that he could flirt with you while actively being pawed at by another woman. Your eyes grew steely and you pulled the ledger out from under his elbow, happy when he lurched over, knocking the woman off of him, and put it out of sight.

“No rooms,” you said firmly.

“Very well! We shall sleep under the stars,” he announced, and the pair stumbled back out into the night. As you curled back up in your bed you weren’t sure which you hated yourself for more, the hot tears that ran down your face or that you worried for his safety out in the cold.

-----

The next morning he returned again, head bowed and eyes looking askance. You rarely saw him without his confidence bravado and never seen him look deferential but as he approached the desk he could hardly bring the bottle green eyes to yours. You did not make it easy on him, glad that he was apologetic but still deeply hurt.

“Are you here to book a room?” you asked.

“No, I know you’re out,” he replied.

“No we’re not,” you said, because you wanted him to know you’d lied, because you wanted him to know you’d chosen to turn him away. The point was received, a flash of pain in his eyes again and not only because of the horrible hangover you hoped he had.

“I’ve come because I fear I was an ass,” he said. You crossed your arms over your chest, not denying what he said but not turning him away either. This was encouragement enough for him to continue.

“I know that it was late and I didn’t mean to wake you. And from what I can remember I may have had… unbecoming behavior. I may have made advances I didn’t intend to make.”

“You’re apologizing because you think you flirted with me and because you woke me up,” you repeated, slightly incredulous. He looked up in surprise, eyes scanning your face as he nodded.

“Well of course. I would hate to cause you any distress,” he replied. You bit out a short, harsh laugh that made him wince.

“Valdo Marx you are…,” your voice trailed off as your traitorous mind filled in the blank with all the unspoken words you’d bitten back through the months he’d been coming to your inn. Handsome. Kind. Surprisingly perceptive. Instead you took a deep breath and leveled another stony look at his face.

“Are you renting a room, Valdo?” you asked.

“No, but-”

Before he could continue you strode away making a swift exit for the back door which led to the stables. Valdo followed swiftly on your heels.

“Do you accept my apology?” he asked.

“For waking me up and flirting with me? Sure,” you said in a very unforgiving voice.

“Well… what else am I not apologizing for?” he asked, fearful that he’d done something he couldn’t remember, something so horrible that you wouldn’t even look at him. He reached out to touch your arm and you smacked him away still turned. To his horror there were tears in your eyes. He instinctively stepped forward, arms raising to pull you close but you stepped back and he forced his hands to his sides and stood his ground.

“Y/N talk to me,” he pleaded.

“It’s stupid,” you whispered.

“It’s not. It won’t be to me,” he pressed. You closed your eyes, trying to calm your breathing, and a single tear fell down your face.

“Why did you bring her here last night?” you asked before opening your eyes. He took a few breaths, considering his answer. You could see him mulling over responses and prayed he’d choose the truth.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Horseshit,” you bit out, another tear falling.

“What do you want me to say?” he asked, an angry, defensive edge to his voice and you were grateful for it. You could endure his anger far easier than his pain.

“I want you to tell me the truth,” you cried, voice rising so loud it startled some nearby ducks.

“About what?” he demanded.

“What do I even mean to you?” you exclaimed, the words pouring out before you could stop them.

“What?” he asked, going a little pale. You could see fear in his eyes and some unkind part of you was grateful. Let him be scared for once. You spent months filled with fear. Afraid he wouldn’t return, afraid he couldn’t return because he’d been injured or killed. Let him feel just a taste of what your life had become since he’d entered it. And let the both of you put this to rest once and for all.

“What do I mean to you, Valdo? If anything? You always come back, we’ve become close and you vacillate between showing me hints of affection and then practically parading women in front of me as if to mock me.”

“I’m not mocking you,” he said, a slight tremor in his voice.

“Then what are you doing? What are we doing? Because whatever it is, it’s unkind and it can’t continue,” you said, your voice pleading and more than a little fearful. Afraid that he would tell you that it was all in your head. Afraid he’d say that he was secretly married. Afraid most of all that he had been with love you, briefly, and you’d missed it and you would never know what you could have had if only you’d been a little braver a little sooner.

“It is unkind,” he said, still looking down at the ground. When he looked up to meet your eyes, they were red-rimmed, the glossy tears making his brilliant green eyes shimmer in the early morning light, “You’re right. I have been… unkind.”

You waited breathlessly for him to continue, your stomach in knots and your hands curled into fists.

“I have wanted the impossible,” he said, his voice just a breath above a whisper but resonant in the stillness of dawn, “I have loved you and I have known that I could never have you and yet I couldn’t let you go. I should have. I should. But damnit no matter how hard I tried, and gods know I have tried, I couldn’t stop coming back.”

“Why?” you asked, not even certain which part you were asking about. Your heart was pounding in your chest as your brain raced to catch up with everything he said and what it meant.

“Because I’m weak I suppose,” he said with a little shrug and a soft smile that did not reach his eyes.

“No, why… why can’t you have me?” you asked. He stared at you for a moment, considering the question, a wry smile twisting his lovely mouth.

“I’m not a person to be loved,” he answered simply, “I have my uses. I’m good at them. But love, well, that’s for other people.”

“That is the stupidest thing any person has ever uttered in the history of the world,” you said plainly.

“You don’t have –”

You crossed the space between you so swiftly Valdo had only barely opened his eyes when you pulled him in and pressed your lips against his. He froze for just a moment and then he melted into you, arms surrounding you and leaning into your body, mouth opening to the soft intrusion of your tongue as you deepened the kiss. One hand tangled in the disheveled curls and his strong hands clutched your waist before roaming up to your face and hair and every inch of you he could reach without pulling away from your kiss. When you finally broke apart to breathe you left him gasping for air, a stunned expression on his face that would have made you laugh if you weren’t terrified at your own audacity.

“Let’s get one thing straight, Valdo Marx,” you said in a stern voice though it was softened by you pressing your forehead against his gently, “Everyone is someone to be loved, most of all you. And you already are, Valdo, you’re already so very loved by me. And I know that I’m not one of the noble patrons you’ve received or an artist or anything like what you may want or are used to but I’ll be damned if you stand in front of me and cry about being unlovable when I have loved you since nearly the day we met.”

He let out a sound that was something between a sob and a laugh and you brushed your lips against his softly once again. His hands clutched yours tightly between you and he leaned back to look you in the eyes before he raised one of them and cradled your face against his palm. He gazed at you in wonder, the way you’d always dreamt he would, and you returned his gaze with one of open affection, the kind he’d hungered for all of his life.

“You never answered the question,” you said, a little teasingly and a little because you needed to hear him say it and put it to rest. Your brain would take any dangling thread and work at unraveling your happiness if you didn’t snip it now.

“What question was that?” he asked, thumb gently caressing the curve of your mouth, emerald eyes falling to them and then returning to your eyes with a hungry look that sent a tremor through your body.

“What do I mean to you?” you asked, feeling a little silly and worrying he would be frustrated by the question. He smiled at you softly, pressing another kiss against your mouth. His tongue brushed against your lips and as they parted he breathed the answer before reclaiming them,

“Everything.”

#Anonymous #Valdo x Reader #Valdo Marx x Reader #Valdo imagines #Valdo angst #Valdo fluff #reader request

[ficsandcatsandficsandcats]

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Valdo x Reader Word Count: 746 Rating: T Taglist: @heroics-and-heartbreak​ @whatevermonkey​ @mycat-is-mylove @mynamesoundslikesherlock​ @kemmastan​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @writingstudent​ @mlleecrivaine​ @coffee-and-stories​ @amirahiddleston​ @ultracolorfulnerdcollection​ @astouract​ @your-not-invisible-to-me @daydreamer-in-training @morelikebyesexual a/n: I ended this angst in fluff and I SHALL NOT apologize. Hope you like it xo

You laid in bed until you heard his breathing even out, taking care to slowly extricate yourself from his grasp. He didn’t usually cuddle after but tonight he’d pulled you close against his chest and you’d listened to the frantic beating of his heart slow to a steady rhythm. This was your usual routine and you’d grown quite adept at it. You’d wait till he falls asleep, slip out of bed and back into your clothes and then sneak back to your room. No one was ever the wiser and when you and the troubadour saw each other in the morning you greeted each other as friends. Because you were friends, you told yourself as you pulled a stocking down from the mirror. Friends who supported each other’s dreams and listened to each other’s sorrows and fucked like enemies, every thrust an attack and every kiss a curse. It was perfect, you told yourself, and maybe if you said it enough you’d believe it.

You’d just placed your hand on the doorknob when he spoke.

“Please don’t leave me.”

You turned, expecting to find him still fast asleep, calling out in his dreams as you knew he sometimes did, though usually just to yell at an invisible rival. But he was awake, sitting halfway up in bed, curls askew and emerald eyes bleary but wide awake.

“What?” you asked, hand falling away from the doorknob as you turned to face him.

“Just… for tonight. Stay,” he said. There was a pleading note to his voice you’d never heard before and his eyes watched you, half-hope and half-despair, as you took a few steps towards the bed before stopping again.

“Why?” you asked, forcing the question though you wanted nothing more than to dive back in and let him hold you through the night.

“I don’t want to be alone. Tonight,” he said.

“So it’s not about who, just that there’s someone,” you said, a slight bitterness creeping into your voice that made him furrow his brow in confusion and shake his head.

“No, the person matters. If it didn’t I’d just go find someone else,” he explained.

“Well maybe you just want to save your coin,” you mused.

“I don’t have to pay women to be with me,” he replied, voice hardening in anger, “Gods, what do you want me to say?”

“I want you to say that…” your voice trailed away, the words dying on your tongue. That it’s me that you want. Not them. And not just for one night. Silent moments passed as you stood at an impasse, unspoken words drowning you both in uncertainty and regret.

“Will you stay?” he asked, reaching out a hand. You knew it was a mistake. You knew it was asking for something he couldn’t give you. In the morning he would be gone and you would be left in the cold as you had been a dozen times before, and likely would be a dozen times more. Still you found your resolve wavering and you shucked off the dress, disrobing as quickly as you had the night before though with far less vigor. You took his hand and let him guide you back into his arms. You left him press a soft kiss against the crown of your head and you played with an errant curl, trying to ignore the piercing eyes that stayed on you until the heaviness of sleep forced them closed.

-----

When you woke in the morning the bed was cold and you were alone. You gripped the sheets where his body had lain the night before, the scent of him still lingering. When you sat up, hauling yourself out of bed and back into the stark light of day, something caught your eye.

A rose and a folded note beneath it.

You picked up the rose, noting that it was the shade you’d one time passingly told Valdo was your favorite, and the note had your name emblazoned on it in gorgeous script. You broke the wax seal (wondering how the hell he even found the tools to make one) and read. It was short and sweet and it held no lifelong promises of long or loyalty, but it was everything you needed to hear. And when you walked into the main hall and found that Valdo had already left you did not despair, because you knew he would return. And you knew when he did, it would be for you.

#Valdo x Reader #Valdo Marx x Reader #Valdo imagines #Valdo angst #Valdo fluff #reader request

[seanfalco]

A Matter of Honor

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Feral!Valdo Marx x Reader Word Count: 2247 Rating: T Tag List: @ficsandcatsandficsandcats​ @nevadawolfe​ @magic-multicolored-miracle​ @coffee-and-stories​ @whatevermonkey​

a/n: Kat asked begged for some Feral!Valdo after reading my headcanons so I had to oblige :3  Takes place after this fic.  I just hope this lives up to the idea I have in my head;;

Traveling with Valdo had been like nothing you had ever dreamed and you were even beginning to understand why your brother enjoyed his own adventures so.  You were seeing so much; experiencing so much.  

And while the fancy parties Valdo was invited to perform at were exciting and romantic -- the sumptuous food and drink, the music, the dancing, the decadent outfits -- it was the simple quiet moments that were your favourites.  Those moments when you got to see Valdo for the man behind the flamboyant persona, somehow gentler than you could imagine him.

No longer were these moments stolen; ending much too soon for your taste, but they were unpredictable, sneaking up on you when you least expected them.  And though you had already fallen for him, it was in these moments that you knew it was more than just some passing fancy, and you marveled that it truly was possible to fall more in love with someone every day.

So when you walked into the latest noble’s ball on Valdo’s arm, decked to the nines, how could you have guessed that by the end of the night you’d grow to love him even more?

—

“You look especially stunning tonight [Y/N],” Valdo purred in your ear as he led you to the main hall.  “I fear I shall be so distracted by your luminous beauty while I am performing that I shall certainly forget all the words to all the songs,” he bemoaned dramatically, though his lips curled into an amused grin.  

“Perhaps you should only sing of me then,” you suggested, a mischievous twinkle in your eye.

Valdo hummed, clearly pleased.  “Perhaps I shall.”

Your heart gave a flutter as his lips brushed the back of your hand, his green eyes intent on your face before he straightened, throwing you a wink as he turned, making his way to the head of the room to greet the host.

Taking a seat, you settled in to listen to Valdo’s performance, glancing around you at the other nobles in attendance; trying to see if there were any familiar faces.  There were a few hushed murmurs around you, but most of them fell away as Valdo began to play; his fingers nimbly plucking the notes of a song you were familiar with as one of your beloved’s favourites and you lost yourself in his voice for a time, smiling as his eyes met yours.

It was during the next song that a pair of voices, not far from you, caught your attention and you glanced around to determine who was so rudely spoiling the moment.  A man and woman, glittering in layers of gold and velvet, seated several chairs from you leaned in conspiratorially, their rather loud whispers carrying and you half wondered if they wanted to be overheard; their eyes suspiciously flashing over to you more than once.

“Have you seen the bard’s latest muse?”  The woman asked, a touch of scorn in her hushed voice.

“Ah yes, the pretty little thing that swaned in on his arm tonight.  Isn’t she the daughter of some minor nobility?”  The man asked and you held your breath, knowing for certain now that they were talking about you.

This had become somewhat of a regular occurrence, for no matter where Valdo traveled whispers inevitably followed and now that you were connected to him, you’d swiftly become a favourite subject of gossip.  Usually you could tune it out, knowing the words they spoke were usually borne of jealousy, but this time they’d brought up your family.

“Yes,” the woman replied, glancing around surreptitiously.  “I can’t believe she left their family estate in the hands of her playboy brother to go gadding about with Valdo Marx…” here she paused to watch Valdo for a moment and sighed.  “Well, I suppose I don’t blame her, but really the girl obviously has no sense.  I wonder how long it will take him to tire of her.”

“Isn’t her brother the fellow who throws all those extravagant parties nearly every other week?  I believe I’ve been to a couple of them.”

The woman nodded primly.  “The very same.  I gather within the next few months their estate will be penniless, mark my words.”

Her haughty tone filled you with barely concealed rage -- how dare they talk about your brother like that?  Sure he had his flaws, but he was a good man and you knew for a fact that he was no longer throwing these parties; trying his damndest to be the responsible elder brother you’d always hoped he’d be.

“If they were my children it goes without saying that I’d be disappointed.  They have so much and yet they squander it away.  Perhaps it’s a blessing after all that their parents are gone, so they don’t have to see what their family name is coming to,” the man intoned solemnly and you felt like you’d been kicked in the gut.

“Oh quite right you are,” the woman agreed, “they’re probably turning in their graves right now…”

The casual callous way these two strangers spoke about your deceased parents -- like they knew anything about your family disgusted you.  It was a slap in the face, and though you knew none of it was true you felt shame grip you, twisting your stomach.  You didn’t even realize there were tears in your eyes until they spilled down your cheeks.  

Jealous pettiness you could stomach, but not this.  Without thinking you stood abruptly and hurried from the room before anyone else could see the tears running down your face.

—

Valdo watched you rush from the room with a frown, his brows drawing together, and it took every ounce of self control he owned not to simply chase after you during the middle of his set.  He eyed the crowd as he sang, noticing the way the couple not far from where you’d been sitting shifted, glancing over as you’d left the room before putting their heads together once more.

His eyes narrowed and he plucked at the strings of his lute with more force than necessary; anger and worry gripping him -- for surely something must have happened for you to flee like that.  As he finished the song, Valdo abruptly bowed deeply to the audience, cutting his set short despite calls for more songs.  Stalking the halls he searched for you and when he finally found you, tucked away into a tiny alcove, tears streaking your face, he felt he could finally breathe again, though the sight of you only made his worry spike.

“[Y/N],” he exclaimed, hooking a finger gently under your chin and tilting your face up to brush the tears from your cheeks.  “What happened?”

The tightness around his bottle green eyes was so at odds with the tenderness of his touch and voice that you lost your words for a moment, gaping at him.

“It’s foolish really,” you insisted, voice still thick from your sobs.  

Valdo shook his head.  “If it upset you this much, it’s far from foolish.”  Pulling an expensive looking silk handkerchief from his pocket he gently dabbed at your eyes, his touch so soft.  “Did someone, perchance, say something?” he asked pointedly, his gaze finding yours, and you knew you might as well tell him.

“Not directly to me,” you mumbled, your lips twitching into a frown.  “But I overheard… and I think they meant for me to.”

“Go on,” Valdo urged patiently, though anger simmered dangerously in his chest, just below the surface.

“They badmouthed my family.  Insinuated I was selfish for leaving with you and that my brother was going to ruin our house.  They even brought my parents into it…”  Your words were cut short by another choked sob and Valdo quickly pulled you into a hug, resting your cheek against his chest as he held you close, stroking your hair and back soothingly.  He didn’t know the specifics of your parents’ untimely deaths, but he knew it was still a tender subject and that you missed them very much.  

His anger sharpened.

“I’ve never done anything for myself before,” you murmured, sniffling.  “Was it truly selfish for me to run away with you?”  Your voice sounded so small and when you lifted your face to look up at him, he frowned slightly.  

“No love,” he whispered, a quiet fierceness filling his words, “you are the farthest thing from selfish.  Me on the other hand...”  He trailed off, taking a steadying breath before pulling back to place a firm kiss on your forehead, squeezing you tighter for a moment. 

“Why don’t you head back to our room and get comfortable.  I’ll be there shortly, but there’s something I need to attend to first.”

“Attend to?” you asked, peering up at him.

“Don’t you worry about it, songbird.  Just... bardly duties, you know.  I have to be seen mingling for a proper amount of time.”

Skeptical, but really just looking forward to putting the evening behind you, you nodded, sniffling.  “Alright, I’ll see you soon?” you asked hopefully, wanting nothing more than his presence, uninterrupted.

“Yes, this shouldn’t take long darling.”

As soon as you disappeared around the corner, making your way back to your shared chamber for the night, Valdo’s expression hardened, his green eyes flashing.  Turning on his heel, the half cape hanging off his shoulder flaring with a flourish, he stalked off in search of the two who had dared to make you cry.

It wasn’t hard to find the couple, the Duke and Duchess of some minor Duchy, their simpering smiles only serving to temper his fury further into a cold hard thing; sharp and swift, and he wondered if they had any idea what they’d done or if they were truly as clueless as they looked.  Plastering a hollow grin on his face Valdo approached, bowing slightly and taking the Duchess’s hand to press a kiss to.

“My Lord, my Lady,” he greeted and the Duchess’s face lit up at his presence while he fought to keep his smile from slipping, though it never touched his eyes.  

“To what do we owe this pleasure, Master Marx?” The Duke asked, his words somewhat strained; clearly displeased with the appreciative way his wife eyed the slim bard.

Valdo’s smile sharpened dangerously and he stepped closer, almost conspiratorially, and the Duchess’s eyes lit up with interest.  “You see I’ve just heard something rather shocking that I’m afraid concerns the two of you,” he said, his voice dropping along with his grin.

“O-oh?”  The Duchess’s ridiculous smile slipped at his tone and she reached for the necklace hanging at her throat out of habit.

“It really is impolite to sling unfounded judgemental accusations around, especially within earshot of those you’re so rudely gossiping about.  If you have a problem with me, well I could certainly care less; gossip is an occupational hazard in my line of work, but when you bring my lovely muse into it…”  He spread his hands apologetically and as the two gaped at him, their mouths working silently in an attempt to find the words to backtrack gracefully he slipped a slim dagger from the seam of his doublet, it’s razor thin edge pressed to the Duke’s side.

The man flinched, stiffening as he realized what was happening.  “Are you th-threatening us?” he demanded, spluttering indignantly.  “Do you have any idea who we are?”  His eyes flashed with fear as he kept glancing down at the dagger pressed to his skin.  To any passerby the three merely looked as though they were having a close conversation, not even noticing the blade in the bard’s hand and Valdo pressed it closer, a sadistic thrill passing through him as the man’s eyes bulged further and a small patch of red soaked through his shirt.

“Let me make myself succinctly clear,” Valdo bit out, his usual drawl falling away as cold anger filled his voice, his eyes flicking between the two.  “Spread such slanderous drivel about my [Y/N] again, and I will ruin you.”

“Bold words from a bard,” the Duke spat, though he flinched again and the Duchess looked on wide-eyed, her mouth hanging open like a codfish.

“And do you not realize how much sway I hold?”  Valdo retorted, a cruel smile twisting his lips.  “I hold the ear of those much more powerful than you, I assure you -- scores of important players that can make your life a living hell until your titles are empty and your reputation is shit.  Or, if you prefer, a dagger in the back before you even knew it was there…” Valdo shrugged, stroking his goatee with his free hand.  “Just remember this warning the next time you decide to flap your mouths about things you aught not to be.”

The Duchess nodded emphatically, her jewels jostling loudly as her husband swallowed audibly.  “Y-yes, we’ll remember.”

“Fabulous,” Valdo exclaimed, his usual rakish smile returning, though his emerald eyes still flashed darkly, a reminder that he more than meant his words.  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a very lovely woman waiting for me in my chambers.  Cheers.”

Without a backward glance Valdo strode away, tucking his dagger back into its hiding place with ease.  Did he go a little far?  Perhaps, but it was worth it to see the panicked look on the Duke and Duchess’s faces.  Besides, there was no ‘too far’ when it came to his love or her honour.

#valdo marx #valdo x reader #valdo marx x reader #valdo marx imagines #my writing