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eskelsgirl · 19 days

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Labour?

(Title is still in the works) This is just a brief prologue. With an abrupt ending. Main pairing: Geraskier, Side pairings: Vesemir/Original Male Character, Eskel/Original Female character. Tags: Alpha/Omega/Beta au, canon divergence, arrange marriage -kind of? Vesemir looks down, unimpressed at the young omega at his feet, even less so at the omega’s beta ‘father’ that put him there. Male omegas were as rare as alpha females, unheard of but not impossible. The boy wasn’t a tiny thing like his omega; he was all limbs and about as tall as his oldest, with no hips to speak of. This wasn’t the first time men have tried to sell their unwanted children off to the witchers to pay their debts. But Vesemir already had enough pups and wasn’t looking for another.

“And what am I to do with him?” Vesemir asks, looking back up at the court. “He’s no child surprise, far too old for the mutations to take.” The beta growls a low warning, which is unimpressive, but Vesemir doesn’t allow the challenge to go unpunished. Growling back louder, a vicious snarl that sends the beta aback. A fraction of a movement caught Vesemir’s eyes: a young girl hanging off the skirts of her maid. The red swollen mark on her cheek would soon become a proper bruise. She was a timid thing, holding on to a well-cared-for doll. “She’ll do,” Vesemir says, his eyes narrowing on the girl. "She’ll make a fine playmate for my youngest.” “No!” The forgotten omega at his feet snaps, grasping Vesemir’s arm, pulling attention back onto him. “You will not touch her.” Cornflower blue meets harden amber, the first time Vesemir had seen the omega’s eyes full of defiance. The pieces clicked; maybe he would have a use for this omega after all. “Very well, then,” Vesemir shacks his arm out of the boy’s grasp. “I’ll take the omega off your hands, as well as his dowry.” “Dowry!” The beta yells, “Yes, if he is to mate one of my sons, a dowry is to be paid,” Vesemir explains, taking the time to now circle around the omega. “Then again, you are trying to cheat your way out of a 1,000 crown contract. You must not even have a dowry for your children.” A few snickers meet Vesemir’s ears, it seems someone else was enjoying the look of humiliation on the Lord’s face. After that, getting the dowry, a horse for the omega, and a bag of his belongings didn't take much convincing. “Go witcher.” The lord sneered, “Do not expect a warm welcome again.” —------- It was a long ride to where ever the Witcher alpha was taking him. While Jaskier was pleased to be away from his father, he will dearly miss his little sister and hope she will be safe without him there to protect her. The alpha didn’t speak much or at all, only deeming him worthy of conversation to command when to rest, eat, and water the horses. Jaskier wasn’t good at silence, so he spent most of the time lost in his head, humming songs or speaking softly to himself. He had made it through most of Hannelore Varidil’s epic poem, which he had memorized years ago. When they had stopped in a village outside of Kaedwen after weeks of camping outside, Jaskier was ready for a real bed, even if it was filled with straw. The Witcher dismounted effortlessly, while Jaskier still hadn’t mastered it. Once his feet touched solid ground, a young boy quickly gathered the reins in exchange for a few coins. “Come.” One-word commands. It seems that all the conversation Jaskier will ever have. Vesemir leads him to some form of market, stalls set up near two established buildings, the inn, and a tailor. Assuming they were heading for the inn, Jaskier didn’t think much but walked forward, only to be stopped by Vesemir. “Finally going to sell me then?” Jaskier couldn’t help the quip as it left his mouth. Then, he braced himself for a smack that never came, only a chuckle. “Not worth the hassle.” Vesemir answered, “They’ll probably arrest me for kidnapping.” “Fair. So what are we doing?” “Shopping.” Vesemir turned to the nearest stall, selling vegetables, and moved on before finding a traveling merchant with what he needed. “A master Witcher,” the merchant smiled. Vesemir didn’t need his secondary gender to tell him what he needed from the man. The Distaste was obvious, but he wouldn't turn down a paying customer.

“A blue Opal pendant to match your omega’s beautiful eyes.” The pendant was beautiful, and its silver wiring suited it better than the gilded sapphire next to it. Vesemir huffed but didn’t correct the merchant; instead settled on a crescent moon-shaped jasper with bronze wiring. “My mate prefers the simpler things in life,” Vesemir admits, holding the necklace in the light. “A young thing such as him-“

“He’s not my mate. He’s for my son.” Vesemir growls,

#Witcher #Geraskier #Geraskier a/o/b #geralt of rivia #jaskier the bard #jaskier #omega Jaskier #Alpha Geralt

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hegorys · 4 months

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Geraskier fic idea #2

What if in a universe a/b/o the witcher, the witchers were just alphas and considered sterile because they can't get pregnant people they have sex with, be they female betas, female omegas or male omegas, but some group of wizards can transform omegas in witchers and can these omega witchers get pregnant by alpha witchers? And their children are born witchers and don't have to go through all the torture that their parents had to go through to become witchers?

In this universe, the group of wizards who manage to transform omegas into witchers are not necessarily bad, they are people who reached a point where they asked themselves "instead of going through the whole process of experimenting with thousands of alpha children to get just one small percentage of alpha witcher children, since out of every 10 only 3 have a chance of surviving the transformation process, why don't we try to resolve the issue of reproduction of alpha witchers?", because if witchers could reproduce and the children were already born witchers, there would be more witchers to deal with the monsters on the continent, they would not need to go hunting alone and the chances of dying on the way decrease

Of course, the omegas that go through the transformation process are aware that if they choose to go through the process they have a high chance of dying, however, in an a/b/o universe the omegas usually suffer a lot, including suffering at the hands of alpha humans for being considered weak, a low caste in the pyramid, and risking becoming stronger and having a freer life with a chance of finding a good alpha (here alpha witchers are decent and loyal people ok, hahahaha), they would definitely choose the second option, at least I think so, ahahahah

Jaskier chooses to become an omega witcher, meets Geralt on a hunt and they both click "oh my loki I want to climb that grumpy alpha" and "holy loki look at that male omega beauty is flexible, I want him to carry my cubs ", of course, for that kind of thought to happen I think they would have to be virgins, I've never seen Geralt a virgin in any fic, hahahaha

#alpha geralt #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #geralt de rivia #witcher geralt #witcher #jaskier #omega jaskier #geraskier fic

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kayte-overmoon · 1 year

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An excerpt from my Geraskier ABO Pregnancy AU

I'm still working on this fic (it's a big one) but I wanted to give you all SOMETHING, so here's a little (3.5k-word) excerpt to tide you over!

Rating: Mature (no explicit sexual content, but it's fairly suggestive)

Tags: fluff, mild angst, platonic affection, idiots in love, pregnant Jaskier, mpreg, ABO/Omegaverse, canon era

Jaskier is soaking in an Igni-heated bath barely big enough for him to fit in. He doesn’t seem to mind, kicking his feet up over the far edge as he rests his head on the other end.

“As much as I hate you spending all our money on inns,” he’s saying, eyes closed as Geralt cleans his swords. “I do appreciate a good soak in a man-made basin every now and then.”

“I know you do,” Geralt says, half a smile on his face for a moment before it drops. There’s something on his mind, something that’s been bugging him since the moment he decided to keep Jaskier.

“Now, now, witcher,” Jaskier tsks. “What’s the frown for this time?”

Geralt sets aside his swords and looks at his companion. Jaskier has twisted his torso to see Geralt better, arms crossed on the side of the basin and chin propped up on them, watching Geralt with wide, amused blue eyes. Geralt no longer bristles at the bard’s nudity—a good thing, because he tends toward heat spells these days, and often the only way to cool down is to strip to the skin. They’ve had a good couple of weeks of work, so his cheeks are full and pinked with the heat from the bath. He could use a shave, but other than that, he looks good.

Geralt looks down at his own hands. “We should talk. About our arrangement.”

“I wasn’t aware we had an arrangement.”

Geralt rolls his eyes, watching the omega smile out of the corner of his eye. “I mean our situation.” He looks up and meets Jaskier’s eye again. “You can’t keep traveling like this, Jask. We need to get you somewhere safe. Comfortable.”

“But I am safe,” Jaskier pouts. “I feel safer with you than I do anywhere else.”

“That’s the problem, little lark,” Geralt says, the endearment spilling from his lips like water. Every time he calls him that, Jaskier’s shoulders relax like Geralt’s taken a great weight off them. He makes it a point to do it as frequently as possible now. “I told you before, the Path is no place for a child. And all that aside, you’re going to keep getting sicker if we don’t let you rest.”

Jaskier waves him off, sinking back into his bath. “You worry too much.”

“No, you don’t worry enough!”

The omega flinches at his tone, glaring at him from the corner of his eye.

Geralt sighs, looking at him apologetically. “I just mean you should take care, Jaskier. If you’re this ill barely a third of the way into your pregnancy, what do you expect to happen later on?”

“I’m not that ill.”

Geralt scoffs. “You turned down a minced pie today, Jaskier.”

He purses his lips, caught. “Fine. You’re getting rid of me, then?”

Geralt should take it for the opening it is. He knows how dangerous traveling with him is for Jaskier. How much worse will it get when he has a child at his breast? Geralt’s new worst nightmare had quickly become returning from a hunt to find Jaskier taken, hurt, beaten, ripped apart and sold for parts. And besides all that, it was becoming dangerous for Geralt. He’s never been so attached to someone—perhaps Eskel or Vesemir, but they know the dangers of their line of work and can fend for themselves. It’s hard to focus on monster hunting when half his mind is preoccupied with the omega waiting for him back at the inn.

A distracted witcher is a dead witcher.

“No,” Geralt says, not even surprising himself.

There’s no question. He physically can’t bring himself to let Jaskier go. He’s tried considering it a time or two in the months they’ve been together, and each time, his stomach ties itself in knots.

The omega relaxes in the tub. “Good. Because as much as I love you, Geralt, there are some things even you can do to break my heart.”

His tone is light, teasing, and he doesn’t seem to realize the impact the words have on Geralt.

He’s still reeling from those words (I love you echoing in his mind) when Jaskier finally pulls himself from the bath, dripping wet, pruned, and smelling of chamomile. Perhaps the sight, perhaps the smell, perhaps those words muddle his mind enough for Geralt to blurt out, “Come to Kaer Morhen with me.”

Jaskier blinks up at him from the towel he’d been drying himself with, his hair tufted up on one side from where he’d rubbed it. “Kaer Morhen?”

“The homeplace of the witchers,” Geralt explains. “The wolf witchers, at least. It’s where I grew up. It’s where I—where we go every winter.”

“And you… want me to come with you?”

“Is that… is that alright? For me to ask?”

Jaskier chuckles and comes to where Geralt is sitting at the edge of the bed—there’s only one, since they’re on a strict budget, after all—and insinuates himself between Geralt’s knees. He doesn’t even seem to be aware of his nudity. Geralt decidedly is aware of it. “Dear witcher,” Jaskier says fondly. His hands land on either of Geralt’s shoulders and his scent, warm and happy, surrounds Geralt’s senses. “Never doubt how much your generosity means to me. It sounds lovely, but…”

“But?” Geralt gives into temptation, lets his hands settle in the dip of Jaskier’s hips, his wrists almost brushing the soft skin of his ever-growing belly. Some deep, base instinct makes him want to rub his scent glands over Jaskier’s bump, to claim him and the pup as Geralt’s. He digs his fingers into his bard’s hips to keep from doing that. He hasn’t been given permission. Jaskier has given no indication that he sees Geralt as anything more than a close friend, a platonic person who could protect him and his pup. The last thing Geralt wants is to breach his trust.

Jaskier purrs softly, not seeming to realize he’s doing it. He fiddles with Geralt’s hair. “I feel as if I’m taking advantage of you.”

Geralt snorts. “Trust me, if I didn’t want you here, I would have dumped you before we even left Posada.”

The bard tips his head and smiles and gods above Geralt just wants to pull him into his lap and press his face against his neck where his scent is strongest. Still grinning, Jaskier asks, “Why do you put up with me, witcher? You don’t seem the type to form attachments.”

“I’m not.”

“And yet… here we are.”

Geralt observes him carefully in the candlelight. “Here we are.” He drags his thumb absently across Jaskier’s ribs, watching goosebumps rise in his wake. Jaskier takes a breath at that, pulling himself away from Geralt to continue drying and dressing himself. Geralt mourns the loss of his touch but lets him go.

“So.” Jaskier twists open a jar of sweet-smelling oil he’d been rubbing on his belly of late. I may adore this child with every fiber of my being, Geralt, but that does not mean I wish to have the marks of pregnancy on my youthful form for the rest of eternity. “Kaer Morhen?”

“Mmm.” Geralt picks up his swords again, going about cleaning and sharpening them absently while he watches Jaskier go about his routine. “Vesemir will be there. He’s a healer, of sorts. He could help with the delivery. Or we could bring someone if you like. A midwife of your choosing.”

Jaskier hums back at him, a mannerism he’s beginning to pick up from Geralt without even realizing it. “Vesemir?”

“My… father, I suppose.” At the omega’s inquisitive look, he goes on. “Witchers are born human and come—came, rather—to the keep when they were young. Many were orphans. Some… weren’t.” Jaskier clearly catches on but graciously deigns not to dig in. “Vesemir was one of the teachers before the sacking of Kaer Morhen, when mages destroyed all knowledge of making new witchers and killed all but a handful of us. Vesemir is the oldest living witcher. He took it upon himself to care for the keep and the last few witchers.”

“You speak fondly of him,” Jaskier says. “Are you close?”

Geralt grunts, not in agreement or disagreement. “I suppose. As close as witchers let themselves get. We have a lot in common. All the witchers left do. No one quite understands the life of a witcher more than another witcher.”

“How many of you are there left?”

“Of my school, the wolf witchers”—he thumbs his medallion—“there’s only me, Vesemir, and my brothers Eskel and Lambert. There are several others left from other schools, but we’re not nearly as close.”

“So, this winter,” Jaskier says. “Would it just be us and Vesemir? Or will your brothers be there?”

“Hard to tell,” Geralt shrugs. “We usually don’t know who’s going to show up until they arrive at the keep. The past couple years, Lambert has brought a guest.”

Dark eyebrows rise as Jaskier slips into a clean change of smallclothes. “A guest? Then it won’t be strange if I come?”

Geralt snorts. “No, it will be strange. Lambert’s guest is a witcher from one of the other schools.” He meets Jaskier’s eye. “None of us have ever brought home a human. Not since it’s just been the four of us.”

“Let alone a pregnant omega?” Jaskier snorts. He flicks a wrist, playing at being scandalized. “Imagine what they’ll say, Geralt! They’ll accuse you of stealing my virtue!”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “As if you had any to begin with.”

Jaskier gasps, clutching his chest. “You wound me, darling. I’ll have you know I was the picture of innocence before—well, before this.” The hand at his chest smooths over his stomach as he looks down fondly.

Geralt hums in response, languishing in the omega’s happy scent as he strokes his baby bump. “They’ll know it’s not mine anyway.”

“How so?”

“Witchers are sterile,” Geralt says. He expects the shocked, saddened look Jaskier shoots his way, and waves him off. “I’m not sensitive about it. It’s part of the Trials to become a witcher, and they don’t hide the information from us beforehand. We go in knowing we will either die in the trials or come out the other side an alpha with no ability to breed.”

“Oh.” Jaskier wilts a little, his scent—usually a mix of honey and lilies—dips toward something like sandalwood. “I’m sorry, Geralt.”

“It’s not your fault, Jask.”

“No, I mean.” He throws his chemise over his head and scrambles up onto the bed with Geralt, laying his head on the witcher’s shoulder with no regard for the sword in his hands. Again, that blind trust that makes Geralt wonder what he did to deserve it. “Here I am, running around and making poor life decisions while carrying a pup, and you can’t…”

“Jask.” Geralt nuzzles his hair absently to get his attention. The omega tips his head up to look at him with watery blue eyes. Geralt sets the sword aside—again—and resolves to finish it in the morning. “I told you, I don’t care. Especially not when I get to see how happy you are every day.”

Jaskier squints, mushing his cheek against Geralt’s shoulder, looking every bit like a contented house cat. “I am happy. I feel as if I should be worried or anxious or afraid, but I’m not. I have many regrets in my life, but this is not one of them. I’m glad I have the pup. I’m glad I have my freedom. I’m glad I have you. You’re a dear friend, you know that, Geralt?”

Geralt grunts.

“You are!” Jaskier shoves his arm gently, not even enough to dislodge himself from Geralt’s shoulder. “Not many people would be willing to put up with me, with or without the child. And here you are, not just tolerating me, but taking care of me. Why is that?”

Geralt shrugs with his free shoulder.

“Oh, don’t get silent on me now, Geralt! We’re having a heart-to-heart!”

“Exactly.”

“Ugh!” Jaskier flings himself back on the bed, kneeing Geralt in the thigh as he squirms to get comfortable. Geralt pinches his leg in retaliation, making him giggle. “Fine. Don’t tell me, then. I’ll just assume you are susceptible to my charm and wit. You saw me in Posada and thought, ‘Yes. Now there’s a man I’d let rub chamomile on my lovely bo—‘”

“It was one time, Jask.”

“One very memorable time, on my part.” Jaskier grins, cheeky and lecherous. With a face like that, there’s no wonder he was knocked up before the age of twenty.

Geralt makes himself end that line of thought the second it arrives.

Instead of admiring his friend’s fuckability, he grunts. “It’s not too late for me to leave you along the road somewhere.”

“No!” Jaskier wraps his arms around Geralt’s waist from behind, his head knocking against his hip. Geralt twists to accommodate him, letting the bard rest his head in his lap. “I’ll surely shrivel up and die the moment you leave me. You wouldn’t want that on your conscience, would you?”

“I think you overestimate how much you need me. You’d make it just fine on your own.”

The omega tips his head to level an unimpressed look up at him. “When we met, I was getting booed out of taverns and stuffing bread in my pants so I’d have something to eat later.”

Geralt just hums.

Jaskier pokes him in the side. “I’m happy with you, Geralt. It’s a peculiar arrangement, but I couldn’t ask for anything better.”

Geralt watches him for a moment, aware his face was probably too fond at the moment but too content with the omega’s closeness to care. “You pet your stomach when you’re tired, you know that?”

Jaskier looks down. Sure enough, his hand had strayed to the little bump and was smoothing over it. “I hadn’t noticed.”

“Winter isn’t for another two months still.”

“Very astute, love.”

Geralt snorts and tugs his hair until Jaskier yelps and bats his hands away. “I mean, I think we should find somewhere safe for you until it’s time to make the trip to Kaer Morhen.”

Jaskier frowns and turns to lay on his back, his head still in Geralt’s lap. The hand that had tugged his hair now smooths it back. “You want to split up?”

“Only for a couple weeks,” Geralt says. “The Path, as I’ve said, is no place for you right now. You’re only going to get more uncomfortable in the coming months, and you need to be somewhere you can rest and relax. It would… I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you or the pup because you’re with me.”

“What do you propose, then?”

“I can put you up somewhere. Somewhere with good weather and plenty of things for you to do. Somewhere you can relax and pick at that lute you’ve barely touched the past few weeks.”

Jaskier frowns. “Fingers were too swollen.”

“The swelling will go down if you rest.” Geralt leans over him to catch his eye. “And as much as I love having you close, knowing you and the pup are safe and healthy, I’d feel better knowing you were somewhere you can get warm baths and hot food whenever you want.”

“How do you propose we do that, hmm? It isn’t as if we have the money.”

Geralt puts a hand on Jaskier’s chest to hold him steady as he reaches over the edge of the bed for his sword. He unclasps the pin there, the one he’d pulled from Renfri’s body as a reminder all those years ago. He holds it out for Jaskier.

The bard takes it and studies it. “I’ve seen this but didn’t want to ask.” His thumb runs carefully across the clasp. “I figured it was sentimental. It’s fine craftsmanship. I’m sure it would sell for a pretty penny, if that’s what you’re suggesting.”

“It is,” Geralt says. “I’m not sentimental. The person who gave it to me is long dead. It was more of a… reminder to myself, than anything else. I don’t…” He looks at Jaskier. The bard was now holding the hand Geralt had put on his chest, stroking his wrist softly as he watches Geralt with those wide, innocent eyes. “I don’t think I need it anymore.”

Jaskier’s heart rate spikes for a moment as he turns the pin over in his hand, pink flushing his cheeks. “If you’re sure,” he says. “I don’t want you giving up any more than you already have for me, Geralt. I’ll never be able to repay you for your kindness.”

“I’m not doing this so you’ll pay me back.”

“Then why are you?”

The same question from earlier, just rephrased. Glancing at Jaskier, Geralt knows he did it on purpose. Geralt sighs and takes the pin back, just to give himself something to do. “Because you’re special, Jask.” The bard beams, and Geralt nudges him softly. “Don’t let it go to your head. I’m going to sell this so you don’t freeze or go hungry while I’m gone. I’ll let you pick the town.”

“Oxenfurt,” he says without hesitation.

Geralt frowns. “Why Oxenfurt?”

“I’ve got friends there, at the university,” Jaskier explains. “I know at least one of them will put me up, especially if I pay for food and whatever other expenses I’ll have.”

“How do you know these friends?”

“Stand down, guard dog,” Jaskier chuckles. “We grew up together. Priscilla was from a neighboring family, and we were the same age, so we always sat together at parties. She is kind, and generous, and happily bonded to her alpha, Philippa.” He gives Geralt a significant look and Geralt stops bristling—which he didn’t even realize he was doing. “They’re good friends, Geralt. They’ll ensure I’m looked after while you’re gone.”

Geralt nods, smoothing a hand down Jaskier’s chest. His gaze strays to the little bump on the bard’s belly, where Jaskier is still stroking.

“You want to feel?” the omega offers. “Pup won’t be moving for a couple months, probably, but it’s a fascinating feeling.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Oh, Geralt.” Jaskier takes his hand and lifts his chemise, letting Geralt finally rest his palm over the little swell beneath his navel. His skin is hot and smooth, little divots where his skin has begun stretching to accommodate the life growing beneath the surface. It’s not big—Geralt’s hand covers the full expanse of it—but it feels significant. If he focuses, he can feel the vibrations of the pup’s heartbeat. His breath leaves him in a rush.

“What?” Jaskier asks in quiet alarm. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Geralt says. He strokes his hand across Jaskier’s belly gently, soothing him in and taking in the feel. “I can feel their heartbeat.”

“Really?” Jaskier slips his hand under Geralt’s, brows drawing in with the effort of trying.

Geralt chuckles softly at him. “You won’t be able to. Witcher senses.”

“Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier squeaks. The scent of tears alerts Geralt to his sudden burst of emotion.

“Jaskier?” He shifts around so the bard is no longer on his lap and leans over him, one hand still on his belly and the other on the bed. “Jaskier, what’s wrong? Are you in pain?”

“No, no.” Jaskier gives a shaky laugh and wipes his face with the hand not trapped under Geralt’s. “I’m fine. Just… overwhelmed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He flips his hand over to catch Geralt’s fingers in his. “That was the greatest gift you could give me. Guh.” He gives a mighty, nasty sniff that makes Geralt laugh. “Shut up. Don’t make fun of a poor, pregnant omega.”

“I would never.” Geralt raises their joined hands to his lips before he even realizes what he’s doing and presses a kiss to the omega’s knuckles. Jaskier’s cheeks turn pink and his scent takes a sultry spike that Geralt doesn’t let himself linger on. “So, we’re agreed? Tomorrow we leave for Oxenfurt, where you’ll stay with your friends if they’ll have you. I’ll return for you in two months when it’s time to make the trip up the Blue Mountains. We’ll spend the winter in Kaer Morhen until the pup arrives, then we stay as long as you need to recover.”

Jaskier blinks up at him. “We… you mean you intend to keep me around after the pup arrives?”

“Of course,” Geralt says, though he hadn’t put much thought to it before. All he knew was that there was no way he was willing to part with his omega.

No, not his omega. Just Jaskier. Jaskier, who happened to be an omega. Jaskier, who was carrying another alpha’s pup.

Jaskier can’t seem to find words—a rare occurrence for him—so he just pulls Geralt down into a crushing hug. Geralt keeps himself up, afraid to put too much weight on the bard. “Thank you,” Jaskier whispers, a fresh wave of tears spilling from his eyes and smearing all over both of them. “Thank you, thank you.”

#fanfic #the witcher #geraskier #sfw #for once #maybe a bit suggestive though #omegaverse #ABO #omega jaskier #mpreg #pregnant jaskier #alpha geralt #they're in love but they're not ready to admit it #kayte overmoon

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bambirex · 6 months

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Okay, just out of curiosity - it won't necessarily affect the plot, just genuinely interested in your thoughts:

#geraskier #yennskier #radskier #mamma mia au #jaskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #radovid #omega jaskier #alpha geralt #alpha yennefer #beta radovid #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #genuinely just curious

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transholmes · 1 year

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Title: A Loving Scent

Prompt: Omegaverse. Yes that was the wreck prompt but these guys wanted to be fluffy.

Pairing: Geraskier.

Rating: Teen.

Warnings: None

Can be read on AO3. @whataboutthebard

Jaskier buried his nose at Geralt’s scent gland, breathing deeply of the rich, musky odor.

He was at this moment oblivious to the nice bed and cozy inn room they occupied, too caught up in scenting his friend and sometimes lover, relishing the scent itself almost as much as the fact that Geralt let him.

Scenting was as intimate to alphas and omegas as it was crucial to their personal well-being and to forming and maintaining bonds with one another, done between friends and close family members as much as between lovers or mated couples. Geralt was usually so guarded and let so few close enough to catch even a stray whiff of him, but Jaskier was allowed to scent him to his heart's content. And he in turn loved scenting Jaskier.

Right now Geralt’s scent was pure contentment.

“I love how you smell when you’re all relaxed like right now,” Jaskier murmured.

He nosed at the scent gland, his hand stroking Geralt’s chest and Geralt let out a low moan.

“Keep doing that and I’ll start smelling frustrated,” Geralt rumbled.

“A little frustration never hurt anyone,” Jaskier replied, nosing Geralt’s scent gland again.

Geralt nudged him back and gave him a look that very much said, ‘That’s rich coming from you’.

“Oh come now, you know I’d never leave you unsatisfied for long,” Jaskier said, caressing Geralt’s chest again, relishing the feeling of the firm, warm muscles beneath the thin linen shirt.

Geralt burst into motion, grabbed Jaskier, and flipped him onto his back, pinning him down with his weight as he gently nosed at his gland.

Jaskier laughed delightedly, tilting his head to allow Geralt better access. It thrilled him that Geralt approached him so openly now, without hesitation, trusting in his welcome. He closed his eyes and surrendered to the warm, fulfilling feeling of having a trusted person scent him.

It wasn’t something he allowed many, this unrestricted, easy access to scenting him. In his own way, Jaskier was as guarded and cautious as Geralt though few saw beyond his flamboyant clothes and bright smiles to ever notice the walls. And Geralt was the only alpha he had ever trusted with this.

They weren’t mated and though Jaskier had agreed to spend the winter, and thus his heat, at Kaer Morhen he knew neither of them had any intention of having that lead to mating. Jaskier knew he wasn’t the mating type, too restless for one and disinclined to stick to one partner exclusively for another. Traits that Geralt shared.

But even if he didn’t desire a mating bond having someone scent him like this, someone as trusted and beloved as Geralt, filled him with contentment and happiness.

“Are you sure?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier hewed a mental sigh, they were having this discussion again then? He’d have it as many times as needed, keep telling Geralt that he would always be welcome to scent Jaskier whenever he wanted to, but that didn’t mean the topic didn’t sometimes feel old.

But before he could say anything Geralt continued, “About this winter I mean. Coming with me to Kaer Morhen?”

Oh, so it was this other discussion they were having again instead? Jaskier could do that, at least this one wasn’t quite as old and rehashed.

“Did you or did you not hear me say yes to coming with you?” he said.

“I did.”

“So why bring it up again?”

“Because I’m still not sure you know what you’re agreeing to. Kaer Morhen has few comforts and fewer people in it. And once the snow starts to fall you’ll be stuck there until it melts from the pass. I worry you’ll be bored.”

“Well if the library is anything like you said it is then I’ll be plenty occupied. In fact, you may have to haul me out of there by force come spring.”

“I have a hard time imagining you with your nose in a book.”

“I spent most of my childhood doing nothing but. Lettenhove was dreadfully dull and the abbey little better, they provided a welcome distraction. Kaer Morhen can’t be worse than those places. At least no one is going to beat me there.”

“No, but Lambert might bite you,” Geralt quipped, recognizing Jaskier’s attempt at dark humor.

Jaskier shrugged.

“I’ll bite him back then,” Jaskier said primly.

“You may want to be careful about that, Eskel thinks he might be into it,” Geralt deadpanned.

Jaskier playfully punched his shoulder, then raised his hand and cradled Geralt’s cheek.

“But truly, I want a winter of- of us. Of not feeling moody and itchy at the end of winter because your scent is gone.”

It wasn’t something he had ever told Geralt, not in as many words, how much he missed his scent. It felt too vulnerable somehow, but maybe it was a good time to spell it out.

Geralt’s face softened.

“I thought-” he began only to break off and look away shyly.

“You thought what?” Jaskier gently prompted when Geralt remained silent for several moments.

Geralt pressed his nose against Jaskier’s wrist, his eyes closed.

“I’ve always hated it when your chemise stop smelling like you at the end of winter,” Jaskier teased.

“Hmmm, I suspected you stole those on purpose.”

Geralt blushed faintly.

“Come now. One of my chemises can only go missing at the end of autumn so many times, and then magically reappear after we reunite in spring, before a man grows to be a bit suspicious about things.”

“Sorry,” Geralt muttered.

Jaskier caressed his cheek.

“There's nothing to forgive, darling. But you could simply have asked me for one, and I’d happily have given it to you. No need for sneaking.”

“I know, just...”

...just didn’t want to admit how much he felt a desire for Jaskier’s scent, or so the bard suspected.

Damn if all of this hadn’t been a battle, to get Geralt to allow himself to want. But Jaskier knew that digging further into this might have his witcher close off again.

Though they had both come far from those early days where Geralt refused to accept anything Jaskier gave him except when he did so in the most surreptitious fashion, there were still times Geralt would retreat, emotionally if not physically, if Jaskier pushed too hard or too fast. It made their relationship feel like a very intricate and challenging dance. But to Jaskier, it was still more than worth it.

Ah well, no need to dive into this right now.

“Nevermind,” he said. “This winter you get to be annoyed by a real, life bard instead.”

“Hmmm.”

Geralt reached out and tugged at Jaskier and Jaskier moved willingly to sit in his lap, the witcher all but wrapped around him, nose again buried near his scent gland.

There was one thing nagging in the back of Jaskier’s mind.

“Are you okay with it? Me coming with you for the winter?”

Geralt shifted his head just enough that he could look at Jaskier.

“Do you think I would have invited you if I wasn’t?” he asked.

“Probably not.”

“I’ve wanted to ask you the last couple of years, just didn’t think you’d agree.”

“Have I ever passed up spending time with you?”

“No, though the gods know why.”

“Because you’re the best alpha I know, the best friend. I know you don’t believe me when I tell you and maybe never will, but that doesn’t make it any less the truth. If I were to ever pick a mate, it would be you.”

“I’m sure your family would love that choice.”

Jaskier laughed.

“Probably would be the last push they needed to completely disown me. But I would gain so much more than I would lose in that.”

“You could do better.”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. Regardless, I don’t want better, I want you. I want an alpha that isn’t trying to control me, who isn’t hung up about having kids.”

“You don’t want to be leashed.”

“Exactly. This is one of the reasons why I want you, you understand.”

“I’m sure you could find another.”

“Maybe, though this is rarer than you think. But it’s not about that, I don’t want to look. I’ve already found what I’m looking for, why would I keep searching?”

He gently pushed at Geralt’s chest for him to lay down, then cuddled up against his side, head resting on his shoulder.

“I know when I’ve got it good, my dear and it’s nice to be cherished without being restricted.”

“And it feels good to...”

Jaskier carefully stayed silent, letting Geralt find his own words in his own time.

“Good to have someone. I never thought I would.”

It was more vulnerability than he had expected from Geralt. He reached up and brushed his fingers along the edge of the witcher’s hair.

“You have me,” he promised. “As much as anyone can, you have me, Geralt.”

Geralt smiled softly.

“I know,” he whispered back.

They curled up around one another, breathing each other’s scent and for a long while after, nothing more was said.

#geraskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #geralt #omega jaskier #alpha geralt #willow whisper #wuv the bard

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geraskierficrecs · 11 months

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An Offer You Can’t Refuse Update!

New chapter here.

Teaser:

Jaskier stared at the blank screen and tried to swallow down the bile rising in his throat.

It had been years since anyone had called him by his name. He closed his eyes and fought through the grief and instinctive panic at the reminder of the last night he’d been Julian.

It’s better this way, Julian.

Cahir had sounded almost fond even with the blood dripping from the tips of his claws. Jaskier could still see the reflection of the flames in his eyes.

That boy had deserved to die, he thought now. He’d been a spoiled brat. Weakened by the belief that his world could never be toppled or changed. Julian would never have survived the world outside of his pack. Likely, he would have turned into one of the obnoxious, self-absorbed pricks like the Slater boy.

“What did Geralt say?” Aiden asked, coming up behind him to drop a cup of coffee onto the table beside him. When Jaskier gave him a curious look, the wolf shrugged. “I stole it from the counter because the lady who bought them was rude to another customer.”

Jaskier nodded and took a slow sip to avoid answering immediately. “He doesn’t believe me.”

There was no way to hide the hurt the simple statement caused.

“Did he…say anything about Lambert?” Aiden asked, aiming for casual and missing by a mile.

“No. He didn’t say much.”

Everything you told me was a lie.

“We could try again. Maybe Eskel or Lambert could–”

“No,” Jaskier said, shaking his head and taking a deep breath. “We focus on the plan. Nilfgaard has to burn.”

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ficsforfundota · 1 year

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Additional Tags: Omegaverse, Witcher Bows and Arrows Valentine's Day Event, omega Jaksier, Alpha Geralt, Knotting, Biting, some blood, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha/Omega, Nesting, Alpha Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Vaginal Sex, Clit Play, Rough Sex, jaskier needs Geralt bad, i love them your honor, writing prompts, Mating Bond, Bond bites, Licking, bottom jaskier, top geralt Series: Part 57 of Alpha/Omega/Beta, Part 18 of Feburary events Summary:

Jaskier’s gone into heat and needs his alpha to help him quench his needs

Omegas have female anatomy regardless of gender :) Witcher bows and arrows nsfw Mate

#The Witcher #Jaskier/Geralt #Jaskier x Geralt #Omegaverse #Omega Jaskier #Alpha Geralt #Witchers Bows and Arrows

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eggcompany · 6 months

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#ao3 fanfic #fanfic #egg_company #smut tag #wattpad #fanfiction #geralts #geralt x jaskier #witcher fanfiction #the witcher fanfic #smut fanfiction #alpha/beta/omega au #omega x alpha #omegaverse #omega jaskier #alpha geralt

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holylulusworld · 1 month

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Broken Rose (1)

Summary: He may have stolen your kingdom and freedom – but he’ll never own your heart. Right?

Pairing: Alpha!Geralt of Rivia x Queen(Omega)!Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of forced/arranged marriage trope, a/b/o, magic, light smut, unprotected sex, mating, claiming, forced proximity, I’ll label this dub-con (just in case)

Broken Rose masterlist

Broken Rose (Prologue)

He’s like a fever dream coming over you and your kingdom. All of your knights have fallen under his spell. Robbed of their will and honor by his dark powers.

Your sword and armor lie abandoned on the ground. Just like your crown. It’s broken, like your heart and pride. You lost. The battle. Your kingdom. Your freedom.

And now, you lost a part of yourself too because you allowed Geralt to strip you bare and take you to bed.

It’s not an unknown feeling having this man inside of your body. You did it many times, unbeknownst by your father, the former king, and your knights.

He stole your innocence and heart years ago – when you were still a foolish girl believing in love and fairytales. You believed that you could marry the man you love when you become queen.

Your mind runs wild while he ravishes not only your body but your soul too. Geralt is all-consuming and undefeatable. Not only in battle but between your thighs too.

He enchanted you with his soft kisses and sweet promises reminding you of a different time. A time in which you were hopelessly in love with the Witcher conquering your kingdom and cunt.

You had no choice but to surrender. Not only in battle but in the bedroom too. Your omega, and body gave in, but the queen did not.

You’re buying your time by letting him claim your body for the time being. “You’re mine, say it,” he purrs against your throat, lips nipping at your untouched mating gland. “Say it.”

Clawing at his back you ignore the tingling in your core. It’s been too long without him, but he still remembers how to make your body pliant. “No.”

“Say my name, my queen,” his thrusts become more demanding, and the bed starts to creak at the effort he puts into forcing pleasure on your body.

The headboard slams into the wall, and for the first time, you are grateful your knights are still under his spell.

You should be ashamed that you are close to an orgasm while your people are robbed of their free will.

“Say my name,” he growls against your throat. “Now!”

“No! We are not even married, and you just took me to bed,” you snarl at him. “You ruined me. How dare you take a queen like that.”

He laughs against your throat. “My rose, I plugged your blossom years ago,” Geralt playfully says. He gets impossible faster and grips your legs to throw them over his shoulders.

“No…I can’t…” you shake your head and press your hands against his chest. You are forced to stare at Geralt as he pushes his cock inside of your cunt as deep as possible with every thrust.

“You can and will let go for me,” his eyes glow in the dim light of your bedroom. He tilts his head, tempted to take your free will from you too. “Now! This cunt will squeeze me and take my knot.”

“I hate you,” you whimper the words. Your body surrendered a long time ago, and all you can do is let go and clench tightly around his cock. “Why?”

“Because you are mine,” he growls and drops your legs to cover your trembling body. His teeth sink into your mating gland. You cry out in pleasured pain, whimpering as you come undone once again. “We are married by my rules for years.”

The bond is already forming, and you sniffle because there is no escaping him now. Endorphins float your whole body and take away all of your fears for a moment.

Geralt’s knot swells deep within you. He growls your name, and paws at your body. The alpha lifts his head to watch your face contort in pleasure.

“You’ll have my knot and heir tonight. I made you my queen and mate. Forever.”

“Forever,” your eyes flutter shut, and you refuse to open them again. Your body got conquered, but your strong will is a different story.

“Y/N, stop fighting fate,” Geralt growls in your ear. He has you underneath him, his knot still locked inside of your body. The second time he mated with you he wanted you on your hands and knees. Simply to tame you and show you who is in charge.

He didn’t think you’d kick, scratch, and bite him before he got the chance to get his cock back inside of you. Geralt had no choice but to mount you like an animal to get what he wanted.

Submission never was your style and never will be.

“Fate?” You snarl. “This isn’t fate. You attacked my kingdom and used magic to win the battle. You forced your mark on me and talked about fate?”

“We were meant to be from the beginning,” he whispers lowly. “Stop fighting me, and I’ll set your knights free. Give in to me, my queen and I’ll be your loyal king and mate.”

“As if you’d let my knights go,” you huff. “I’ll never be your queen or mate. Only because you pushed your knot inside of me doesn’t mean I’m yours.”

Geralt smirks at your words. You’re a strong-willed woman. Undefeatable and angry. That’s what he always liked about you. The alpha chose you as his mate to have an equal partner, not a submissive and meek omega by his side.

“We will talk about your behavior in the morning,” he wraps his arms tighter around your body. “Maybe I need to use my magic on your cunt too. Oh, I forgot. You’re already wet for me all the time.”

You grit your teeth. It’s not your fault that your body gives in to your instinct. Geralt’s scent is driving you crazy, and there is nothing you can do to fight it.

“I dare you!” You snap at him. “Don’t get too comfortable in my bed and kingdom. I’ll get rid of you soon enough.”

“No. You won’t,” he whispers in your ear. “You’re a beautiful but broken rose. No one stands by your side. You’re all alone and only have me left. Give in, and I’ll give you everything you can wish for.”

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #alpha!geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x you #female reader #a/b/o #Broken Rose (1)#the witcher fanfiction

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hegorys · 1 year

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Geraskier Idea Fica A/B/O

Okay, I can't sleep with this idea in my head so I posted it here after being gone for months, hahahahaha

a universe with alpha/beta/omega dynamics where Geralt has a twin brother, both become witchers who mutate twice, both are alpha, Geralt remains the serious grumpy yet protective and possessive character, Geralt's twin, Gerard, has a better and more accessible humor, thinks about Geralt being the same from the series on Netflix and Gerard being the Geralt from the games, they walk the path together, sometimes separately, but both start to follow the path together when they find Jaskier in Posada.

Dandelion falls in love with the two, in this universe the male omegas are intersex, they are born with both male and female genitals, but the penis is not much, something like a micro penis, he is a size queen and will catch these two wolves whites.

Geralt and Gerard never felt anything sexual between them, but that changes after they meet the omega Jaskier, Gerad is versatile, Geralt is a top and Jaskier is a bottom.

at some point when Gerard ties omega Jaskier in the knot, Geralt will use Jaskier's natural lube to open up Gerard's ass and fuck him while still attached by the knot to Jaskier, pretty rough and make him moan like a bitch and see stars when Geralt knots your ass.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #omega jaskier #alpha geralt #alpha beta omega #witcher fic #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic Idea #geralt de rivia #jaskier dandelion

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kayte-overmoon · 10 months

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PART TWO of Daisy Chain is up!

I posted it last night but I’m only getting around to sharing it now. If you want to read it the second new parts come out, make sure to subscribe:)

#fanfic #the witcher #kayte overmoon #jaskier #geraskier #Geralt #the witcher fanfic #mpreg #ABO #daisy chain #pregnancy au #geraskier pregnancy au #alpha geralt #omega jaskier

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bambirex · 8 months

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It's A Game We Play

Pairings: Geraskier, Yennskier, Radskier

Characters: Jaskier, Geralt of Rivia, Yennefer of Vengerberg, Radovid, original female characters, Essi Daven, Priscilla, Ciri of Cintra, Valdo Marx

Additional tags: inspired by Mamma Mia! (movies), crack, alpha/beta/omega dynamics, omega jaskier, alpha geralt, alpha yennefer, beta radovid, awkwardness, jaskier is a good parent, protective jaskier, weddings, found family, post mpreg, fluff and humor, alternate universe-modern setting

Rating: teen and up audiences

Word count: 2,390 words

Chapters: 1/?

Summary: Jaskier's daughter is about to marry the love of her life, and she decides she wants both her parents at her wedding. Only problem is that Jaskier has slept with a little too many people in his youth, so the identity of the other parent is a mystery. That does not stop the bride-to-be from inviting three potential daddy candidates and unleashing absolute chaos in the process.

Otherwise known as Jaskier's terrible horrible no good past decisions leading to terrible horrible no good outcomes. Also known as the Mamma Mia! AU nobody asked for, but I wrote it anyway.

Author's notes: It's time for some crack!!!!! What do you get when you have canonically slutty Jaskier, and add Bambi being a multishipper who loves chaos? That's right, you get a Mamma Mia!AU !! I'm planning on using the plot of the first movie pretty loosely. As in, I will probably not do scene-to -scene recreations, but take advantage of the general idea and the setting!

Feedback is super appreciated!!! Let's get the party started!

Read on Ao3

“I can’t believe this day has come.”

“Papa, it’s not my wedding yet. I’m just trying on dresses, remember?”

“Still,” Jaskier smiled, blinking against the sentimental tears in his eyes, “my child is getting married. She’s picking out her wedding dress, how am I supposed to cope with this?”

Amaryllis cooed and leaned up to kiss her father on the cheek. Jaskier immediately wound his arms around her, enveloping her in a crushing hug.

“You promised no crying until the ceremony,” Amaryllis reminded him. Jaskier chuckled against her hair.

“I’m failing, obviously.”

But who could blame him, Jaskier mused as Amaryllis finally managed to pull away. He let his daughter take his hand and lead him inside the saloon, her steps happy and prancing, so adorably enthusiastic. Amaryllis was his only child, his baby, his light in this world. Of course, he would become emotional (over and over again) over the fact she was soon to be a married woman. Amaryllis’s fiancée, well, soon-to-be-wife, Sara, was the sweetest thing. Jaskier loved and trusted her, but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry. He always did: he was a parent, that was what he was supposed to do. His child was facing a huge milestone in her life. Jaskier was filled with fear, hope, and a tremendous amount of pride at the same time. He was just overflowing with emotions, and they manifested in constant weeping, apparently.

He decided to try and shut off the waterworks at least while they introduced themselves to the seller. She was a cheerful middle-aged lady named Kate, who heartily congratulated Amaryllis on her upcoming marriage, then she gave a sympathetic hug to Jaskier as well.

“It’s a huge thing, one of the biggest days in our lives,” Kate chirped as she led them further inside the saloon. “Therefore, it has to be perfect. Any ideas on your dream dress, dear?”

“Not sure,” Amaryllis admitted. She still held onto Jaskier’s hand as she looked over the numerous racks and shelves. “My fiancée will have a strapless dress, and it would be nice to match with her, but I think sleeves are more my style?”

“You should pick whatever you’d feel comfortable in,” Jaskier reminded her softly. “You will look beautiful in everything, anyway.”

Amaryllis gave him a bright smile and a squeeze to his hand before she followed Kate into the jungle of dresses. Jaskier raked his eyes around with a sigh. Fluffy dresses and sleek suits hanged everywhere from floor to ceiling, in every shape and every size. They all looked so pretty. Jaskier’s chest tightened for a second before he decided to look away and check on his daughter instead.

Amaryllis was an absolute dream to shop with. Instead of turning into the stereotypical “bridezilla”, she was calm and collected, listening intently to everything Kate told her. Jaskier was immensely proud of her. He also knew that if he were in this situation, he would probably break down five minutes in.

While Amaryllis disappeared inside the fitting room to try on a couple dresses, Kate approached Jaskier with a smile.

“Beautiful girl,” she told him earnestly. Jaskier grinned, proudly puffing his chest out.

“Thank you.”

“Yours, right? I can tell by the eyes. Same set of beautiful baby blues.”

“Ah, you’re so kind. Yes, she’s my daughter.”

“Are you planning a big wedding?”

“Not that big. More people on her fiancée’s side.”

Saying that out loud tasted bitter on Jaskier’s tongue. He wished he could give his daughter an epic ceremony, but unfortunately, he wasn’t on good terms with his family. His parents divorced while he was still a child, and he has only rarely seen his father after that. He’s always had a stormy relationship with his mother as well. She was a very strict, traditional woman, whose pride was greatly hurt when her husband left her. That was probably why she got so angry when Jaskier told her at the ripe age of twenty-one that he has gotten pregnant and had no clue from who. She wanted Jaskier to fulfill that idyllic family picture that she did not manage, and seeing her own child fail at it, too, caused her to cut ties with him. The only relative that Jaskier could count on was his aunt, the only person who has supported him after he ended up alone, pregnant, and scared out of his mind. Her death devastated Jaskier, especially because she didn’t get to see Amaryllis’s birth. She has left his beloved nephew a lovely gift, though, the Dandelion Inn. Jaskier has spent most of his childhood on the small island his aunt lived at, and he really enjoyed staying over at the Inn, even when he was an adult. It was a friendly, warm little motel that felt more like his home than his actual house. He has also met his two best friends there, who have helped him through many hardships.

Jaskier now lived on the island with his daughter and managed the Dandelion Inn. It was idyllic in many ways, and not very idyllic in other ways. Jaskier knew that an unbonded, mate-less Omega would always be the hot topic of every gossip, especially one that got pregnant so young. He has gotten better at handling the acidic insults, but he wished he could have protected his daughter against them, and he wished he could have provided her with the big, happy family that she deserved.

He quickly waved away the sad memories as Amaryllis exited the fitting room. Jaskier gasped and clutched a hand over his heart, willing himself not to tear up again. As expected, Amaryllis looked beautiful in her mermaid- style dress. Her smile shone brighter than the gemstones on the hem when she twirled around.

“My God, you look beautiful,” Jaskier whispered in awe. Amaryllis ducked her head with a shy grin.

“I like it. I think I’m gonna try the high-low dress, too.”

She tried on four more dresses, and Jaskier told her she looked gorgeous in every single one of them. Amaryllis groaned as she plopped down next to him on a pouf.

“You always say I look beautiful in everything, Papa.”

“But that’s the truth! No matter what you’ll pick, you’ll be the most beautiful bride.”

Kate disappeared to find some accessories to go with the dresses. Amaryllis waited until she was out of sight, then she turned to Jaskier with a look that indicated she was about to say or ask something potentially uncomfortable. Jaskier knew that look too well. It was the same, head ducked down, nose twitching, jaw slightly wobbling face she gave him when she told him she accidentally broke his acoustic guitar, and when she presented as an Omega and had to ask her father about the birds and the bees. Jaskier braced himself with a sigh, and a free cupcake that he retrieved from the tray next to him.

“I was thinking about checking out the suits, too,” Amaryllis started, choosing her words obviously carefully. “But then I was like, I’d rather have a dress. It’s traditional, and I know we’re both free spirits, but I think I’d like a really traditional wedding, you know? An Omega girl in a big fluffy dress, her Omega father weeping into his tissue in the front row…”

“Hey, I won’t cry in the front row,” Jaskier objected with a huff, “I’ll cry while walking you down the aisle.”

Amaryllis cleared her throat. She fiddled with the tulle on her dress. The clock on the wall ticked loudly in the silence. Jaskier didn’t even dare to breathe.

“What’s wrong, honey?” He asked, scooting closer to her on the pouf. “I feel like you’re trying to tell me something.”

“Well,” Amaryllis squeaked, avoiding Jaskier’s eyes, “iwantmyotherparenttowalkmedowntheaisle.”

Jaskier blinked in utter confusion. Amaryllis turned an alarmingly bright red, which was only accentuated by her snow-white dress.

“What… what was that?”

“Papa.”

“You said it so fast I couldn’t make out a single word!”

“God,” Amaryllis sighed, grinding her teeth in embarrassment, “don’t be angry! Just… I… I said that I want my other father, or mother, I don’t know? To… to walk me down the aisle… you know, all traditional…”

Jaskier was very glad he was already sitting, otherwise he would have probably collapsed on the floor. He waited for Amaryllis to reveal it was just a joke. For several, uncomfortable moments, Amaryllis stared at Jaskier, chewing on her lip. Jaskier stared right back, his brain drawing a complete blank page.

“Honey…” Jaskier squeaked out, “you know exactly I don’t know who that is.”

“But, maybe there’s a chance we could find them?” Amaryllis asked hopefully. “I was thinking a lot about this, lately. I would be really happy if we managed to find out who it is, so they could be there, too. I don’t know… maybe you still have some phone numbers? A hunch? Anything? It’s just… it would be nice.”

Jaskier let out a deep sigh. It’s been literal years since Amaryllis has brought up this subject. With each passing year, as she has gotten older, it has gotten easier to explain: it was the worst when she was still a little child, not understanding why everyone had two parents while she only had her Papa. It was even worse with her overhearing all those nasty gossips about how Jaskier was such a lowlife Omega, sleeping with everyone and having bastard children. When she was a little older, Jaskier could give her a vague explanation on how her other parent left, and how they were unfortunately not coming back. Amaryllis was already a teenager when Jaskier eventually revealed the truth that he had absolutely no idea who the other parent was. He didn’t give her all the details about how he was definitely enjoying his youth. He was a pretty hedonistic young Omega who gladly shared his heats and non-heats with many, many… many people. He didn’t tell her about his short-lived, heartbreaking romances and everlasting loves that only lasted for about a week. She was a smart child, she managed to put the pieces together anyway.

So, Amaryllis stopped pushing for an answer a long time ago, accepting the explanation that Jaskier didn’t know. It felt like a bucket of icy water was poured straight over his head when she, twenty years old and ready to get married, brought this up again.

“Look,” Jaskier told her softly, reaching for her hand, “I know this is going to be your big day, and trust me, I would give my left arm to make sure everything could go exactly as you wanted, including a full set of parents if that’s what would make you happy, but unfortunately… I can’t give you that. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Amaryllis squeezed his hand gently, “I didn’t say that to make you feel guilty. This isn’t your fault. I just… I guess I reminisced a little, and I daydreamed a little, and… when I imagine my big day… I see someone else there. With you.”

“Well,” Jaskier forced a grin onto his face, deciding to hide the sudden pain that flared up inside him with humor, like so many times before- the only way he managed to survive the heartbreak, the loneliness and the hopelessness he has felt through his life. That was the only way he could get through the pregnancy alone, that he could get through raising a child alone. The only way he could protect Amaryllis from feeling that pain.

“It seems like you’ll have to make do with your old, single father.”

“You’re not old,” Amaryllis reminded him with a laugh. “You had me when you were about my age. You’re still rockin’ and you’re still smokin’.”

“Such flattery. I assume the dress you want is really expensive, then?”

Amaryllis laughed and gave him a tight hug. Jaskier hid his face in her neck so she couldn’t see the way his smile faded.

Kate returned with the accessories amidst many apologies for going away for so long. She took Amaryllis with her again to try the jewelry with the dress so they could settle for the best option. There was an uncomfortable, churning sensation inside Jaskier’s stomach when he was left alone.

The last thing he expected was this. The idea that Amaryllis has been thinking about this again, that she might have felt sad over not having her other parent there shattered Jaskier. He never wanted to see his daughter sad, especially because of him. And sure, Amaryllis assured him it wasn’t his fault, but it kinda was, wasn’t it? If he wasn’t such a slut, sleeping with everyone who caught his fancy, this wouldn’t have happened. He could have committed to an actual relationship, bonded with a nice Alpha or Beta or maybe even another Omega, could have gotten married, and now Amaryllis would have a beautiful wedding with all her family there, because if Jaskier did that, his mother wouldn’t have disowned him, either. All he had to offer his daughter was his stupid self, a tiny inn, and a herd of goats that he also inherited from his aunt.

He looked into the golden-framed mirror on the wall and sighed at his reflection. He looked younger than his age, something he was very proud of, but when he looked closer, into his own eyes, he’s seen the burden of leaving his careless youth behind.

He spotted a veil on the hanger by the mirror. The ache in his chest amplified. He turned around, quickly checking that no one saw him, then he took the veil off the hanger. He turned it around in his hand, running his fingers over the thin lace. It felt heavy like lead as he put it on his head and checked his reflection again.

You could have had this, a voice inside his head that sounded suspiciously like his mother reminded him, if you weren’t such a loose, immoral Omega.

Jaskier cursed and took the veil off, putting it back on the hanger as quickly as he managed. No, he would not let his guilt consume him. He needed to be strong for his daughter. This was about Amaryllis and her beautiful future, not about him and his tragic past.

Jaskier could only hope Amaryllis would forget about her mysterious other parent.

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