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write-ur-wrongs · 3 years

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The Death of Me

Pairing: Geralt x reader

Word count: almost 4K - big whoops!

A/N: This was totally meant to be a drabble / blurb, but the story got away from me! A huge thanks to the sweet anon who submitted this prompt - I was beyond inspired and chuckled warmly throughout the entire writing process. This baby isn’t proofread so thread lightly!! I sincerely hope y’all enjoy this one :’)

Prompt: Heya! I saw your post about wanting to practice writing short stories so I have a small prompt for Geralt! What about: the reader and Geralt have always had a difficult relationship, always running into each other at the most inconvenient moments and hence disliking each other. However, while Geralt is passing through a village the reader comes barging into his room bloody and near death, only getting a chance to say “I didn’t know where else to go” before collapsing. I would be honoured if the idea inspired you :3

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You’d never considered yourself unlucky but lately life had a funny way of throwing you for a loop, or rather, throwing you to the wolves. One wolf, actually. A damn, irritating, and arrogant white wolf.

At first, it was all business. You’d arrive in a village itching for a contract, only to find that a “legendary witcher” had already come through and taken care of every monster within a two-days ride. Furious, hungry, and broke, you set out determined to get as far as you could and as quickly as possible. Your determination got you far enough that you’d managed a full three months of contract work, but not far enough it seemed.

You’d been on your way to collect payment from your latest contractor when you’d heard the buzz on the street; a witcher had come through asking about work, and had been told to wait and see as someone else (a woman! A human woman!) had already committed to the case. Apparently, he was either incensed or bemused at the idea – the brute was very hard to read, so say the town gossips – but it didn’t matter to you. You beat him to it and now you get to eat. When you finally met with the contractor to collect your coin, you couldn’t help but swell with pride as they thanked you, eyes wide, for taking care of a monster no human ought to be able to handle. You could have sworn your pride had given you wings as you floated out of the inn.

That is, until you heard them mumble under their breath, “Thank Gods that lass was able to handle it! Had it been the witcher, I would have had to pay triple!”

“Thank heavens for cheap labour!” whispered their partner, raising their glass to cheers their big victory.

Suddenly whatever weightlessness you felt transferred onto your coin purse. Biting hard on your cheek you pushed up your chin, determined to remain dignified. But then you saw him.

Impossibly broad chested, rippling muscles evident beneath his leather armour, with golden eyes that reflected back to you with a cruel playful nature that made bile rise in the back of your throat. He held your gaze and raised his own tankard to you as you walked past him. His deep voice rumbled through you as you pushed the door open.

“Cheers to cheap labour,” you heard him say, and swore you could hear the smirk on his full lips.

Groaning furiously, you pushed the door so hard it swung back and slammed shut behind you with such force a flock of birds took off somewhere in town. Undeterred, you stomped off towards your horse and set off at a gallop.

I’m going to make sure I never cross his fucking path ever again, you thought searingly.

You were wrong it turned out, but how were you supposed to know that?

You’d gone years without actually seeing him again, but that didn’t mean you were free of him. You’d alternated winning and losing contracts to each other, and the pressure of beating him to the next one stressed you so fiercely you developed ulcers. That alone would have been enough to push you to murder had you not heard from another witcher that their brother, the great white wolf, was losing sleep trying to keep up with you. Knowledge of this fact spurred you on; after all, if you couldn’t beat him, it’s best to be even, no?

The next time fate brought you two together, though, you could not have been farther from on top. What made matters worse, is that you weren’t even in battle when your paths crossed. Your literal paths just simply… crossed.

You’d been riding east for many days and just as many nights. You were tired, sore, and somehow still soaked to the bone despite the fact that the rain had stopped at least a day ago. You were so tired, your muscles seemed heavy in your limbs, and you had to keep blinking hard to bring the spinning world around you back to its axis. As you rode through an intersection on the trail, the sun peaked out from behind the thick curtain of clouds just long enough to pull you fully into sleep, and right off your still-moving-horse’s saddle.

You honestly didn’t remember falling asleep, or off the saddle. You also had no memory of the moment another traveler, who was riding towards the intersection on the other trail, leapt off his mare just as you started your descent and caught you before you could split your skull open on one of the many rocks sprinkled throughout the street. You had no memory of the way he’d pulled you off the path, leading both horses behind him as he’d carried you over his shoulder. Zero recollection of him laying you down on a bed grass, tying your horse to a nearby tree, lighting you a campfire, or filling your pack with some bread and meat.

What you did remember, was the arrogant look on his face when you finally woke up. The condescending tone he took as he reminded you that you were ‘only human’ and had to take care of yourself accordingly was also seared into the annals of your memory.

You hated that he’d saved you almost as much as you hated the fact that you’d been asleep around him. Completely vulnerable for God knows how long and he’d been there to witness it all. Whenever the memory of the look on his face or the way he’d crossed his arms and tilted his stupid head as he condescended your humanity came to you, you couldn’t help but cringe even months after the fact.

***

Your saving grace came a full six months after your damned damsel in distress moment on the trail.

Well fed, well worked, and well travelled, you were taking your time enjoying the market in your town of the week. The work you did wasn’t glamourous, but it did allow you the means to afford a few luxuries every now and then. This time, it just so happened that your coin could buy you the sweetest gift of all: revenge.

The market was busy as ever, you could barely hear yourself think over the cacophony of voices and animal bleats bouncing around the square. Had it been anyone else, the conversation would have been lost among the noise around you, but when that voice came rumbling through the mess of shrieks and shouts, you couldn’t help but seek out the source. You didn’t know why you cared or why you were so surprised to find that the voice’s owner was none other than the White Wolf himself.

“You good?” you asked, making sure to tilt your head, hands on your hips, the same way he’d done the last time you’d met.

“Fine.” He practically barked, not even turning his head fully to address you directly.

The merchant, none-too-concerned with your arrival on the scene, continued as if uninterrupted. “I’m sorry Mr. Witcher, sir, but I can’t go any lower. This is the best I can offer.”

“I can’t pay that much,” he grumbled, hands closed into tight fists.

“I’m sorry-”

“Is this enough?” you interjected, knowingly offering forward far too many ducats.

“Y-yes!” breathed the merchant, looking quizzically at Geralt before picking three coins from your open palm, “thank you, madam...”

“Y/N,” you introduced yourself with a warm smile and a nod.

“Y/N!” Geralt hissed, at the same time, reaching out to push away your hand a fraction too late; the vendor was paid, and you’d won this round.

“What is it, Witcher?” you teased, as the vendor took his sword back for repairs, “been on vacation? Why so skint?”

“Been low on work lately,” he replied coolly, cat-like eyes boring into yours, “not as many contracts as there use to be.”

“Well, I’ll be,” you said, cocking your head to the side and pursing your lips in mock contemplation, “I can’t imagine why that’d be the case! Seems I keep running into monsters to kill.”

“Mmhm.” He hummed, narrowing his eyes at you.

Refusing to let him have the last word, you quickly turned on your heels and high-tailed it out of the market, shouting over your shoulder to the blacksmith to give any change back to Geralt before disappearing back into the crowd.

***

Being even should have brought peace between the two of you but it seemed to have the opposite effect. Your last interaction only fanned the flames of your rivalry. As the months turned to years without coming upon each other again, you still found yourself filled with unreasonable anger whenever you saw a mop of white hair cross you on your travels.

And not that you’d know it, but it turned out that Geralt wasn’t faring any better; finding himself frustrated and acting recklessly whenever he’d come upon anything that reminded him of you.

You were both completely obsessed with one another. Thoughts of the other constantly on the mind. Whether in waking or in dreams, you were both equally afflicted by an intense need to outperform, out run, and also, inexplicably, to impress the other.

It was that need to impress each other that led you to accept a contract you should have never even considered taking. You honestly wouldn’t have even considered it had the circumstances been any different but you’d been hearing about this monster for weeks on your travels. Tales of the mighty griffin tearing people to shreds had been circulating far and wide on this side of the Yaruga, and honestly, with every retelling you’d expected to hear that a witcher had handled it, but that never happened. You’d somehow managed to arrive at the village at the source of these stories before him and had an opportunity to literally rob him of this victory.

Granted, you were the only one who’d been attributing him with this win, but that didn’t matter, not to you. The only thing you cared about when accepting this particular contract was the knowledge that by taking it, you were preventing him from having it, and that was more than enough.

The shock on the villagers faces when they saw you accept the contract only added to your already inflated confidence. The sheer size of the griffin’s wingspan humbled you a little, though, and whatever grand illusions of an easy victory you’d carried into the forest were squashed along with a couple rib bones only moments after engaging the beast. In short, you were fucked.

Some might say that coming out of it alive was enough of a win. Those people would be morons, you thought as you stumbled clumsily back towards the lights of the village, clutching your split abdomen with both hands and blinking back blood dripping from your forehead. Every step you took came with the stabbing pain of additional tearing around your wound. You could barely think, your ears were blocked and caked with dried blood and dirt, your tears stung as they fell across the gashes on your cheeks, and every breath in felt like it could be your last. You’d never admit this out loud, but a part of you wished the creature had finished the job.

Perhaps the only saving grace here was that in your condition, you couldn’t hear the villagers as they pointed and gossiped. You didn’t hear the “told you so’s” or the lewd shouts coming from the drunk men as you stumbled into the tavern. You could barely hear the disappointment in the inn owner’s voice as they reprimanded you for accepting a contract, they knew you couldn’t complete. Rolling your eyes, you pushed your way towards the stairs as quickly as possible – which, as it turned out, was not so quick, praying that someone would call you a healer.

“… and to think a witcher arrived only hours after she went off to kill herself! Tsk-tsk!”

You stopped dead in your tracks, drops of blood falling across your brow as you interrupted the momentum you’d been building. “W-what?” you croaked, turning towards them as much as possible to make sure you’d hear them correctly.

“Yeah! And not just any witcher, lass, the Butcher of Blaviken no less! Checked in with us just as you head out. Had you waited half a day you could have saved yourself a world of – ‘ey! Now where’s she off to?”

As you registered this news, something inside you snapped. Before you knew what was happening, you’d made your way upstairs and started pushing your full weight onto every door you passed. The great White Wolf, the Butcher of Blaviken, was certainly arrogant enough to leave his door unlocked. You might have been wrong about the griffin, but you’d be damned if you were wrong about this.

Fortunate or not, you weren’t wrong about this. As you pushed your shoulder against the last door with whatever strength you had left, the door swung open with very little resistance. The heavy wooden door slammed loudly against the wall at the exact moment that your limp body crashed onto the floor.

“WHAT the fuck!” Geralt howled, leaping off the bed and onto his feet. His wild eyes assessed the situation in an instant, and he bound to you in barely two strides. “What the fuck did you do? What happened?” he asked as he flipped you over, so gently you were sure you’d already passed out and were now dreaming. Or maybe the blood loss was finally catching up to you and you were full-on hallucinating.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you breathed, barely above a whisper, before losing consciousness in his arms.

Regaining consciousness was a slow, painful process. You’d come in and out of it a handful of times throughout the night, and flashes of what you’d seen before you lost it were coming to you in an almost dreamlike haze; terrifying images of the furious griffin, its blood-soaked talon shining in the setting sun as it reared back to strike you again, and warmer visions of Geralt, shirtless, running towards you with – could it be? – genuine concern in his eyes.

Now as the rising sun cast its glow across the room, you squinted painfully against the light. Your head felt as though it was full of cotton; heavy, and scratchy, and unnatural on top of your shoulders. Hesitantly, you ran your tongue over your teeth and were equal parts relieved to find them all there and disgusted at the acrid, mineral taste the blood left behind. Blinking slowly, you tried to bring up your hand to rub at your eyes, but stopped short as you felt the large bandage draped across your forehead.

Slowly, you started to register the other bandages, on your arms, your cheek, across your abdomen. Your eyes grew wide as you finally registered the man facing away from you in the far corner of the room. Geralt’s broad strong back was hunched away from you as he rifled through herbs and small glass vials looking for something. Inexplicably, you found yourself disappointed to see he’d put his thick black tunic back on. Horrified by that realization, you literally gagged, startling Geralt and pulling his attention squarely onto you.

His big dumb beautiful face was all hard lines as he looked you over, stern eyes flashing to meet yours before dropping back down to the vial in his hands. You couldn’t help be notice the way the muscles in in jaw rippled and tensed as he sighed. He was oozing disappointment and anger, and that infuriated you.

“Am I dead?” you ask, squinting at him a little theatrically as you squirmed and winced in your bed.

“No.” he practically growled, his body tense as he made his way towards you slowly.

“Oh,” you breathed, bringing your eyes up to his before adding, “this isn’t hell?”

To your immense satisfaction, his stern eyes widened into shock, but then something unrecognizable flashed across his features – wait, was he hurt?

“Why, because I’m here?” he shouted, as if in confirmation of your hunch, and slammed the damp cloth he’d been holding back into the basin.

“No, jackass,” you retorted, pleased that despite the position you were in, you still had some semblance of an upper-hand, “because a griffin fucking fileted me like a fish and some poor drunk is probably downstairs slipping in a pool of my blood right now.”

You’d kind of hoped that he’d laugh, or at least have a comeback geared up for you, but Geralt just stood there staring at you, his mouth in a tight line, nostrils flaring.

Uncomfortable by the intensity of his stare and the silence accompanying it, you decide to continue to poke the bear.

“Come on, what’s with the face, Geralt? Pissed I’m still alive? You know you could have just closed the door over my body, let nature finish the bloody job.”

“Fuck, no! Y/n!” he screamed, startling you out of the attitude you’d put on, “I’m pissed because you’re an impossibly difficult woman hellbent on killing herself! I’m pissed because you don’t seem to fucking care about what happens to you! You can’t keep doing this Y/N! Because one of these days you’re going to get hurt and you’ll be too far away from me and I won’t be able to fucking save you, again! I am pissed because I am losing my mind spending every god-awful day wondering if you’ve gone and gotten yourself killed! Fucking hell, woman! If you didn’t find me – I-if I wasn’t here, with these herbs – Damnit Y/N!”

You just sat there, mouth opening and closing like a fish. You couldn’t believe it. You didn’t know what to say. This man, your nemesis, was in front of you pacing back and forth, breathing heavily, looking like a maniac. His nostrils were flaring more than the monster that almost killed you just yesterday. Part of you wanted to correct him and demand he never address you as ‘woman’ again, but his wild earnest eyes kept you quiet. My god… was he crying?

Before you could say anything, Geralt sighed gruffly, ran his large hand over his face and stormed out, mumbling something about needing to get you more water.

Left alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t stop yourself from spiralling. You’d expected him to be angry – hell, you wanted him to be angry! You’d humiliated yourself twice over, enraging him would ease the blow – but this was… different. He seemed genuinely concerned about you. And what was with his whole speech? He spent every day thinking about you? Worrying about you? There’s no way.

Sure, you thought about him daily, but that was out of spite! You hated the man! Why else would your heart race whenever you thought you spotted him in a crowd? Why else would you actively seek out the most dangerous contracts? What, like you were hoping these contracts would draw him out, and therefore, closer to you? As if!

Your ridiculous inner monologue was interrupted by Geralt’s return. The horrible brute knocked gently on the door before stepping inside, and your heart had the audacity to skip a beat.

Oh, you thought, fuck.

“I need to change the dressing on your wounds,” he grumbled, not meeting your eyes. You nodded wordlessly as he settled onto the chair next to you. You watched him work in silence, praying he would attribute your insane heartrate and flushed skin to a pain response from his work.

“Geralt?” you tried, chewing nervously on your cheek, as was just finished up with the last of your dressing.

“Hm?” he hummed, keeping his eyes cast down as he fussed with the bandage on the gash across your abdomen.

“Thank you… for saving me.”

He finally brought his gaze up to meet yours, but said nothing in return. He merely grunted in acknowledgment. You didn’t know why, but his silence in combination with his inscrutable gaze encouraged you to keep talking.

“I honestly only took this contract because I didn’t want you to have it,” you admitted bashfully.

“What the fuck? No one was taking it because they weren’t paying nearly enough! Hell, and you’re just a human,” he fumed, throwing up air-quotes as he said it, “so what – they offered you a third of nothing?”

Laughing lightly, you shoved him with your elbow, “they offered me three whole ducats!”

“Oh, wow,” he laughed, low and rumbling, “so a big pay day for you, eh?”

“Shut up,” you gasped as pain rippled through you with each peal of laughter, “knowing I could screw you over was payment enough!”

“Well congratulations are in order, you did manage to screw someone over,” he chided.

“Me,” you stated dryly, gesturing widely at your busted up body.

“You,” he echoed with a sigh that seemed to deflate him.

He suddenly looked so small, sitting there next to you. You watched him as clenched and unclenched his jaw, rubbing his large hands up and down his thighs – was he anxious? You mind raced as you felt his eyes travel slowly up your body. You held your breath as he worked up the nerve to finally bring his eyes up to yours.

The moment his eyes landed on yours, something shifted. Whatever had been lodged uncomfortably between the two of you all these years had finally clicked into place. This change, albeit small, was palpable. His eyes dropped to your lips and lingered there. He was looking at you like he’d never seen you before. Like he was afraid he might never see you again.

Without speaking, Geralt inched himself closer to you and reached a tender hand to tuck your hair behind your ears before cradling your face.

“You’re not allowed to die, do you hear me?” he whispered, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

You gave him a quick nod and brought your hand up to his, nuzzling into the warmth of his palm before giving his hand a quick kiss.

“I need to hear you say it,” he begged, bringing himself even closer to you.

“I do,” you breathed, trying to sit up to bring your face closer to his. “I’m not going to die, not on your watch, but I’m also not quitting.”

“Y/N –”

“No! If I quit, you’d get lazy. Who’d push you? What would be your driving force?”

“Wow,” he scoffed, looking at you incredulously but fondly, “you’re so fucking arrogant.”

“And yet…” you said, quirking a brow flirtatiously as you pulled him closer by the collar.

“… and yet?” he murmured, letting himself be pulled closer to you. His eyes half-closed and his lips slightly parted.

“You love me.”

“I love you.”

And then he kissed you. His mouth claimed yours urgently but his hands were ever gentle, ghosting over your bandages and caressing your skin with a feather-light tenderness that would have brought you to your knees had you not already been bedridden. Any hesitation or doubt melted away under the heat of his touch as all those years of tension sprung apart catastrophically. The knot you had carried in your stomach unfurled into flittering fireflies, their heat traveling up your stomach to your chest as his hands worked their way into your hair.

You didn’t know when they’d fallen, but you let out a shaky laugh as Geralt kissed away the tears on your cheeks, his thumb swiping at the tears his soft lips failed to catch. Breathing heavily, he rested his forehead against yours; his hands cupping your face as yours captured his.

Gods – this man was going to be the death of you.

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thesleepy1 · 2 years

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Dinner With Lampchop And A Drunkard

A/N: People just love Lambert. Can’t seem to get enough of the bastard. I mean, he’s pretty hot so I’ll give you that. But I write for other characters too, ya know? Any who, anon requested a Lambert fic that’s super similar to an Eskel fic I wrote a while back. You can find it in my masterlist under “Death’s Imminent Door.” I know how people love Eskel as well. How could you not love goat dead and his foul mouth brother? A quick note since then is I have not improved on writing action or fighting whatsoever. Hahaha, don’t get your hopes up or anything.

Pairings: Lambert x Reader.

Summary: After a long and grueling hunt all you want to do is get a nice warm meal and relax with Lambert. This wonderful and simple plan is interrupted by some very unfortunate, idiotic individuals. You decide to teach them a thing or two about respect.

“Lambert x reader where they’re in a tavern after a hunt and some locals start pestering Lambert for being a Witcher, and the reader (fed up with people’s brutality) knocks the heckler on their ass, defusing the situation and impressing Lambert. Maybe please and thank you? Love your writing! I always get excited when you’ve published something new!”

Word count: 1,414

Warnings: violence, injury, blood, language,

Lambert straddled atop his horse, Maple Syrup while you walked. He had, to no one’s surprise, decided to take the brunt of the monster’s attacks. The two of you had been hired to take care of a Bruxa living in the remains of a burned down fortress. A new merchant had purchased the land and planned to build her home there.

What she had forgotten to mention was that her husband was infatuated with the Bruxa. The cheating man did everything in his power to get in the way of your monster slaying. Even going out to the ruined fortress with a blade of his own. He had every intent of killing you and Lambert to keep his mistress alive.

When you had brought the merchant the Bruxa’s head, she was happy enough to forget the fact her husband’s body was among your evidence of kill. She was overjoyed in fact. Even paid you and Lambert a bonus for your efforts and set you off on your way. The merchant was generous enough to give you a sack of new bandages and the clothes of her former husband to replace the ones he destroyed by trying to kill you.

Maple Syrup was glad to not have guts and gore on her coat and Lambert was happy to be out of blood soaked clothes. You were just content with being alive with more coin to your name. It made life much easier. The merchant’s bonus was enough for a room with a hot tub of water and two hot meals. You were ecstatic to say the least. What could have been a very poor contract turned out to be better than you had expected.

“You seem way too happy that I got stabbed in the leg,” Lambert noted from Maple Syrup’s side. He used the mare and stable door as support while you unloaded your belongings. His gaze watched you, breaths coming in puffs of mist. The stables were warmer than the cold snow beyond its walls, but not by much. “Wanna see the wound?” He gestured with his head towards the gash that had clotted.

You stuck your tongue out at Lambert. “I’m not happy about you being hurt, Lampchop. I was smiling because of how much we got paid today. We have enough for two whole meals,” you told him excitedly. You grabbed hold of everything you needed for the night, clothes, coin, and weapons. You made way for the inn, politely nodding at the stable boy as you passed. Lambert trailed behind you and you could faintly make out a curse from the boy’s tongue. Perhaps he was not a fan of the cold either.

Inside, the inn proved to be no more than a tall three story building with a small dining hall that could have been someone’s parlor. There were perhaps four tables set, most of which was already preoccupied by those wishing to get out of the cold. The bar was filled as well. Only two seats remained and that was where you staked your claim. Turning towards the innkeeper’s office, you made Lambert sit down and rest. The witcher grumbled the whole time but for once did as he was told.

“One room with a bath, please,” you told the innkeeper politely, twisting your face in what you hoped was a friendly smile. The innkeeper eyed you warily but once he saw the pouch in your hand he said not one ill word of you. You paid your keep and returned to Lambert’s side. While you were gone, he had ordered a piping hot meal for the both of you.

The witcher even had the courtesy to splurge a little, considering your luck. Roasted lamb with rosemary and garlic laid on a plate, a boat of thick gravy and mashed squash towards its side. There was a bowl of baked beans, peas, and tomatoes, with goat cheese sprinkled on top. Your mouth watered at the sight of it. Your hand could not wipe the spittle away fast enough.

“Down wolf,” Lambert teased, tearing a piece of lamb with his canines. There was not a care for manners as he dug into the glistening meat. “I haven’t had a real cooked meal in ages!”

“I made rabbit stew just a fortnight ago,” you smiled at your witcher, taking the seat next to him.

Lambert shoved you gently. If he were using his real strength you would no longer be sitting on your stool. Instead, you rocked back and almost dropped your spoon piled with mashed squash and peas. “You utter dick,” you cursed him in a language you knew he did not know. “I’ll smother you in your sleep for this.” This threat only received a laugh as Lambert stole the bite right from your spoon.

“That’s it. I’m leaving you for the stable boy.”

“Oh, that scrawny lad? He can’t begin to compare to me, darling.” Lambert winked, his feline like eyes making your heart skip a beat. He must have heard because he leaned closer to your side. Whispering into your ear, he said, “And if you try to deny it, I’ll know you’re lying.”

A commotion behind you made you shift on your seat to face a man who had waded his way through the small crowd to your little corner. He smelt drunk, even from your distance. His hair was in disarray and his clothes seemed like they hadn’t been changed in months. “Filthy witcher,” he spat at the ground in front of you. “Fondling that there hunter,” he grunted in a harsh tone. His words drew in an audience as he advanced on unsteady footing. He wagged his pointer finger at Lambert, “You leave them alone!”

“I’ll do whatever I damn please,” you stood up from you seat, standing between the man and Lambert. “He can flirt with me all he wants. That witcher is my husband,” you stated clearly for both the man and the crowd.

“Oh?!” the man looked at you in mock surprise, face going red as he drank from a stolen tankard off of someone’s table. “What has that monster been feeding you to make you say that? Is it something in that there food?” Before you could stop him, he had reached a random bystander’s meal and flung the plate towards Lambert.

It rained turkey meat, corn, and noodles. Lambert’s head was soaked. His witcher senses were no match for the plate of dinner. Coin and noodles clung to his shirt, a strip of turkey hanging onto his shoulder like a crude, mute parrot. You were rendered speechless and Lambert froze in disbelief.

“Sorry Eskel,” you murmured under your breath before balling your fists. “But I’m done being polite for the day.” Just as quickly as the plate had flown through the air, your fist met the side of the man’s skull. His jaw muscles tensed under your touch, you could feel the imprint of his teeth through his skin. “Don’t you dare go near him again.”

The man had landed on the ground flat on his ass. His head rolled with your assault. Your leg swung back and nailed him straight at the crook of his neck. He was down before he could even groan. And the crowd that had watched intently turned back to their meals in fear. Their shoulders hunched and the small dining hall was reduced to rapid whispers.

“You better stay down,” you cursed the man who twitched on the ground.

Back at your seat, Lambert had been given a rag by a passing barmaid. He had wiped most of the turkey and noodles from his form but it was very difficult to get the last pieces of corn when there were so many. “Are you alright?” you asked once sat down. “Are you hurt anywhere? I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Lampchop.”

Lambert huffed out a laugh in spite of what happened. His voice was a tone of unsullied amusement. “Sorry? Why are you sorry, love? Hell, I should be thanking you for knocking out the bastard. That was single handedly, the most amazing thing anyone had ever done for me.” Lambert’s words were as sincere as the witcher could make it but it was hard to take him seriously with corn stuck in between his buttons.

You pulled the remaining kernels off his skirt and smiled. “And I would do it again in a heartbeat. Anything for my Lambchop.”

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sunflowersteves · 4 years

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leaving for good || g.r.

summary || you couldn’t bare the nightly routines that Geralt tended to make with other women, so you leave.

author’s note || this is my first Geralt fic and medieval type fic so please pleaasseee go easy on me!

warnings || angst, unrequited love, mentions of sex, fluff

masterlist

You start chugging your fourth pint of brew for the night, the salty liquid dripping down your chin and onto the neatly carved wooden table.

Jaskier only raised an eyebrow at you, concerned for your well-being. Ever since you two had defeated a large turbulent Golem that wreaked havoc on a small nearby town, you had been slightly and cold. Jaskier had his suspicions that the two of you had slept together, but he was never fully sure.

You and Jaskier had become quite good friends when you joined in on their adventures. The two of you would laugh and have the best of times together, even Geralt would have a small smiled placed on his lips.

However, he was concerned because Geralt is known for not caring about anyone or anything—certainly those who come to bed with him. He knew how Geralt could be and even though you can very much take care of yourself, he sees the toll it sets upon you.

“Haven’t you had enough?”

You ignored him and continued to chug the dizzy inducing liquor until every last drop. You slightly slammed down the now empty cup, fully drinking it down your gullet. You wiped the slightly sticky substance off of your chin and rolled your eyes at your concerned friend.

“It’ll only be enough if I’ve downed all the ale in the world.”

Jaskier sighed at your state and you were now slightly giggling at everything in sight. He was now quite sure your despair was all from the Witcher as you stared at him longingly.

Geralt came and sat with the two of you, a brown sack of money from a bounty in his hands. He gave a couple of coins to you and Jaskier but he had the most since Roach needed to be fed and bathed.

After a weeks-long journey of riding through the countryside, Geralt finally gave in to you and Jaskier begging for a warm stay and hefty pub. All the two of you wanted was a nice warm meal and a cozy bed to sleep in.

Of course, when the three of you arrived at the small village, there was quite the talk about The Witcher ‘Geralt’ arriving to help them fight off a Golem that had been tormenting their town. Geralt would always roll his eyes at one of the townsfolk raving on about how it was destiny’s calling.

He picked up his sword and walked into the forest, much to your protests. He would always place himself straight into the mouth of danger and

“Geralt, I can fight-”

He just grunted in disapproval but you persisted, grabbing Roach’s reigns to stop him from going into the swampy vines forest. She nudged you slightly as you subconsciously patted her. This time your arguing and clamors have been loud and a large ramble about how women can fight as well as men.

“Y/n. I’m aware of this but it’s too dangerous.” He then ripped the reigns out of your hands and sauntered off into the darkened forest. You let out an exasperated sigh but Jaskier turned to you with a bright smile.

“Let’s get you a pint, my lady.”

Now here you were, on your fourth pint of beer, watching as a whore flirted with Geralt across the room. That dark pit that rested in your stomach only grew.

You honestly didn’t blame her, Geralt was probably one of the prettiest men to set your eyes upon. The vast difference and breath of fresh air were most likely wonderful. She probably had lots handful of men that beat her or treated her like shit. Geralt was cut off from the world sure, but he wasn’t an asshole to women for being women.

He held a lot of respect towards women and treats them like they’re equal, which most men can’t say they do.

However, the actions that made your skin crawl and that abyss in your stomach grow was from Geralt flirting back and most of the time he followed them into rooms reserved. Sometimes, even a smile would capture his face as the women would flirt dashingly towards him. Jealousy had always coursed through your veins as he would flirt back with the woman.

Tonight had been no different from any other. A whore came over, resting her arms on top of his broad shoulders, and seductively asking him for some coin. Geralt slowly stood up and without a word, followed her into his reserved chambers.

A hiccup passed your lips and Jaskier was about to make fun of you until he saw your broken face. There were a couple of tears that had left your eyes, that sparkle that Jaskier saw in them when you laughed was no longer there.

Your eyes looked almost dull, like there was no life in them anymore. Geralt was breaking your heart every time he went to bed another woman.

“Oh, my dear, you shouldn’t let him get to you.”

A full sob escaped your throat and Jaskier moved to sit beside you on the bench. His arm wrapped around your shoulders and pulled you into a small hug.

“I can’t help it, Jaskier. I love him.” A sigh escaped his lips at your confession. Even though he predicted this, he still can’t help but have sympathy for his best friend. He was getting tired of Geralt’s shenanigans with longing stares he would always send your way when you weren’t paying attention.

His arm fell slightly off of your shoulders as you straightened yourself. You furiously wiped the fresh tears that had fallen on your cheeks.

“I’m leaving. Don’t follow me. I’m going back home.”

Before Jaskier could even register what you had said, you were already more than halfway across the pub. You had even left what coin Geralt had given you to pay for your pints. Jaskier tried to call after you but it was no use as you opened the pub’s door and waltzed right out.

He quickly regained his senses and ran into the chamber's area of the pub, looking for Geralt’s room. He quickly found it from the sounds of grunts and moans. He loudly banged on the door but knew he was a rush. He barged through the door, leaving it wide open. The woman sat on top of Geralt, their bodies completely naked.

“Jaskier, what the fuck?” He ignored the crude comment and rushed out the words so quickly it was hard to decipher them.

“Y/n left. She’s gone.”

Geralt wasted no time, picking up his clothes and quickly putting them on. He had already paid the woman in full so when he was half-dressed, he ran out of the room and out of the pub. He ran over to the stables to see some of your belongings were no longer on Roach.

Your favorite snack of little bread pieces sprinkled with rosemary wasn’t in the left satchel.

Your favorite medallion that Geralt gave you when he found it in a deep dark cave when he hunted a beast sat on top of roach’s saddle, you were giving it back. His thumb grazed over the gold metal, his heart clenching at the thought of leaving.

He gave you that medallion as a courting gift, he watched as your eyes lit up and a bright smile appeared on your face. Ever since you were little you had been able to talk to snakes; they had always made a bright smile appear on your face when you spotted one. They also were sometimes handy in sticky situations.

Even though he kept the fact that he was trying to court you to himself, it didn’t hurt any less to see that you’ve left it behind. His hand curls into a fist, his grip even tighter on the medallion. He leaves Roach, running as fast as he can to the end of the village. He knew Roach was faster but at this point, he didn’t care. He just needed to see you.

He finally sees the frame of your back and it feels as if he’s running even faster, gravel scraping underneath his boots. He was able to get to you just in time before leaving the small village.

A yelp had escaped your throat as his hands spun you around so you were facing him. His breaths were in a fit of pants, white hair had sprung out from his bun, and his clothes were half-heartedly put on.

“You can’t leave.”

You quickly shoved his hands off your shoulder with a huff and rolled your eyes at the large Witcher in front of you.

“And why not?”

He didn’t say a word, his mouth was closed but his eyes were giving you a pleading look. However, you weren’t going to give in. You weren’t going to let him break your heart every time he went off with another woman.

Even though you liked the adventures, you weren’t about to let that abyss grow in your heart. You rolled your eye again at the witcher in front of you. Wasn’t he supposed to not care for anything or anyone?

“You’re unbelievable.”

You turn around, leaving him be until he spun you around once again.

“Geralt! What is going on-”

Your words were completely interrupted by a pair of soft lips that were placed upon yours. Your lips moved in sync; his hand covered your shoulder and the other was on the small of your back.

He forced his tongue into your mouth, practically aching to taste you. His tongue explored your mouth in passion, his hands moved to gently cup your face in adoration. He gently moved his head, his lips leaving yours.

“I love you.” A gasp left your lips, wide eyes were turned his way. Not a word had left your lips because you were honestly shocked. In no situation did you ever think that you would hear those three words come out of his mouth.

Your body was now fully pressed up against a tree near the village’s entrance. His broad chest and tall stature had towered over you. His face was just inches from yours, breath fanned up against your cheeks.

“I can’t sleep unless I’ve thought about the shape of your nose or your plump lips. Not a single thought passes unless it’s somehow entangled you in it. There have been weeks on end where not a single word leaves my mouth but all I want to do is talk and laugh with you for hours.”

His hands had never left your cheeks, his eyes were darting all around your face to see your expression. He couldn’t help but let hope crumble as no sound made avail from your throat. You hadn’t said a single word.

What he hadn’t known was that it was from utter shock. You never thought that the Witcher who you had fallen in love with would ever say those words back. Before he could fully pull away, your body launches itself forward into a loving kiss.

This time it was much more desperate, your hands had gone exploring from his back to his chest to his neck and his handsome face. Your kisses became needier and more passion like the two of you were singing a song.

You jumped up, wrapping your legs as Geralt caught you, his arms right under your legs to keep you stable. The two of you had never broken the kiss as he started to walk back to the pub and its chambers.

There wasn’t a need for words to be shared, not now anyway. Of course, the two of you needed to talk, to sort out your feelings. However, that was put on hold. Your love for him had burned a straight hole in your chest, the feeling of his hands and body pressed up against yours was heavenly.

And that’s all that you needed at the moment, was each other.

permanent taglist: @hailmary-yramliah @kitkatd7 @captainchrisstan @angstysebfan @teenagereadersciencenerd

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scmediafest · 2 years

Text

📚 DAY 5 - CREATOR REVEALS 📚

vroom vroom, bitches by @blueink3

[David/Patrick - M - 30,859]

It’s Friday, for fuck’s sake. David did not have ‘death’ on the agenda for today.

But here he is, on a bus, attempting to steer this twin-axle six-wheeler despite lacking a valid regular license, let alone a commercial one, because to add insult to severe injury, the driver’s been fucking shot and if the speedometer drops below 80 kilometers per hour, said bus will explode.

Because some idiot decided to go ahead and put a bomb on it.

Or, the Speed AU that at least one of you asked for.

there's no such thing by @dinnfameron

[David/Patrick - T - 19,226]

When David Rose was a child, he had an imaginary friend called Patrick.

aka the Monsters, Inc. AU that I asked myself for.

There's Never Only One Bed by @frizzlenox

[David/Patrick - E - 7,366]

David and Patrick's relationship evolves as they bond over David's favorite guilty pleasure show and Patrick decides to spice up their love live with ideas he gets from the fanfic written about it.

5 times Patrick got ideas from fan fic and 1 time David did.

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Bathilda E. Schitt by sonlali (@landofsonlali)

[Alexis & David - G - 6,212]

> Missing: Priceless Crocodile Bag and Children

> Valuable family heirloom subject of devious thievery. Reward available in exchange for safe return. Also missing, Davis and Alex Rose. If seen, call Moira’s Rose’s Phone 4856.

David is fed up with being ignored by his parents, so he decides to run away from home to the most beautiful place that he can think of (that doesn't require stealing his parents' private jet). His little sister, Alexis, joins him as they decide to secretly take up residence in the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Inspired by From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler

like a streak of light by @lilythesilly

[Alexis/Twyla - M - 5,149]

Police are seeking information on the masked vigilante after the Police Chief of New York issued an arrest warrant on her just one week ago.

Not much is known about the newly minted Spider Woman, except for the videos posted online and shown on the local news saving people from death-defying events by swinging from building to building before disappearing into the night, although she has been known to pose for the occasional selfie if you stumble upon her in an abandoned alley (which we do not recommend, because crime).

Contrary to the opinion of the police, locals see Spider Woman as a hero, even more so after last night when she saved no less than a dozen people when what looks like a giant lizard stopped traffic on the Manhattan Bridge and tore through cars—like it was looking for something—before disappearing into the sewers.

Spider Woman, wherever you are, we hope you’re having an amazing day, sweetie.

or, Alexis Rose gets bitten by a radioactive spider.

And Feed Them On Your Dreams @coffee-and-glitter

[David/Patrick, Alexis & David - G - 2,603]

David is throwing a baby shower for a friend, but this time he actually wants to. He and several friends choose books to gift to the new baby.

This is an angry break up song, right? by @typewritess

[Alexis/Ted, Alexis/Twyla/Ted, Ruth/Stevie - G - 1,533]

Ted convinces Twyla and Alexis to watch the Witcher....and very quickly regrets it when one particular song becomes the focus of a debate.

[Podfic] Always Kiss Me Goodnight by petalpods (@petalwritesx)

[David/Patrick - M - 07m:27s]

Listen to this,” Patrick says, and David closes his sketchbook without hesitating. He shifts only enough to set it back on the nightstand and then turns his attention to Patrick, curling up against him and resting his head on his shoulder. Patrick slips his fingers through David’s hair as he begins to read.

[Vid] I'll Be There For You by NC Vids (@n0connections)

[David/Patrick, Alexis & Twyla, David & Stevie - G - 07m:27s]

The one where they lived in Schitt's Creek.

OR: A Schitt's Creek fan video to the Friends theme song

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eyessharpweaponshot · 4 years

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hi there!! are there any fics you’re reading right now that you would recommend? i need something good after the season we’ve been given so far 😣

hello there!

I agree, this season has been disappointing - especially considering it’s the last one. but thankfully, our fandom is full of amazing writers that serve us goods regularly. I have so much to recommend, it’s a joke. so prepare for a long fic rec. In no particular order, let’s begin:

1. Chasin’ You - @burninghoneyatdusk

okay. you’re gonna see a bit of a theme with me in these fic recs because the authors I mention are some of my favourites in the world - sam being one of the TOP TIER ones. this fic is a modern au, written about clarke and bellamy as exes (a favourite trope of mine) that have went their separate ways. clarke has moved away and hasn’t kept tabs on bellamy but he's soared to the top as a country star, his hit single being about her and what they had. if there’s any fic from this list you need to start reading, it’s this one.

2. Voices in the Water - @burninghoneyatdusk

It’s the canon version we all wanted. set on earth, clarke’s aunt (nia) forces her into an arranged marriage with king bellamy to unite the clans. but under it all, nia has tasked her to kill him. obviously, as clarke falls in love with bellamy, it’s the one task wanheda probably can’t complete. I'm in love with the imagery and descriptions in this fic. there are honestly some lines that sam writes that I want to frame and put up in my house. absolute brilliance.

3. All Because of You - @burninghoneyatdusk

*sheepishly raises hand* - hi, it’s me again, fangirling over another one of sam’s fics. if you have followed me for a while, either here or on twitter, you’ll have seen me screaming about this fic. I've pulled over while driving to read an update that came through to my email. no lie. I don’t say this lightly but it is definitely in my top 3 favourite bellarke fics of all time. sam DELIVERS with this one. bellamy knocks up his sister’s best friend when they’re both young and they grow together in raising their daughter. this fic flashes between present and future in the most seamless way and we see how in love they were back then but too scared to admit it, combined with how in love they are now that they are mature and older - but yet can’t seem to take the leap. I can’t tell you enough how good this fic is. I'm in love and it’s one of those fics that I would happily have as a book on my bookshelf, the pages worn and falling out from the amount of times that I re-read it.

*I just want to note that sam is doing a fantastic job at running @bellarkefic-for-blm. This is an opportunity for the bellarke community to directly support the Black Lives Matter cause through reading and writing fanfiction. For every fanfiction prompt a participating writer receives, they ask that you donate to an organization that supports the BLM cause. This initiative includes non-bellarke the 100 ships and requests for other content (e.g. gif sets, icons, moodboards, fanart). please check them out and request a prompt (this also includes updates for the above mentioned fics)*

4. Count Your Teeth - @icantloseyou-too

let me tell you, you guys will be well fed after reading this fic. It’s one of the most original idea’s and we get so much bellarke and the blake siblings in this one. bellamy is a treasure hunter and married to clarke, after leaving his thieving days behind him. that is until his past comes knocking and drags him back into that world again - and clarke along with him. absolute chefs kiss!

5. Cups and Sorcerers - @icantloseyou-too

again, such a unique plot with just the right amount of fluff. clarke is a witch who owns a coffee shop and she ends up meeting someone just as unique as her. I’m invested in this to an embarrassing degree and it always puts me in a good mood when this fic is updated. such a light and heart filling read and ciara does a fantastic job of world building in this fic.

6. Paint me in Trust - @pawprinterfanfic

I'm sure this fic needs no introduction. everyone and their mother has heard of it and if you haven’t read it yet, believe me, you’re missing out. a harry potter au that runs alongside the last few movies without being involved with the main characters. essie manages to make an already existing world so different, thrilling and gripping. it emotionally upends you and takes you along for the ride without any intention of letting you off. I'm just in love with it and rightly so!

7. When the Wolves Come Home - @pawprinterfanfic

I don’t know how people aren’t RAVING about this fic more because I certainly am. it’s massive for me to even say this because I love all of essie’s work but it’s my favourite fic that she’s written. I can’t describe the feeling I get when I read how she’s written bellarke in this. it’s a percy jackson au but you don’t need to have knowledge of that world to enjoy this. I actually started reading the books because of this fic. essie writes it so well and incorporates a lot of fantastic elements from greek mythology while also keeping me on the edge of my seat with bellarke’s journey. HERE FOR IT ALL THE WAY.

8. I’ll Find You in the Morning Sun - @cominguproses13x

I’ve never seen a fic talked about as much as this one. with 60 chapters, it’s bound to satisfy any hunger you have for bellarke. it’s set in a post apocalyptic world and it is beyond a shadow of a doubt, my favourite setting to read bellarke in. I've actually stopped reading this fic on chapter 5 because im currently writing my own post apocalyptic au as it was a trope on my bingo card and I don’t want any subconscious spill over, but I fully intend on reading the rest of the fic in one go once my fic is published and done. it deserves all the praise and hype.

9. For Blue Skies - @kombellarke

kayla’s fics make me actually weep. her writing style is just unbelievable and she sucks me into stories so fast. this one is no different. I live and breathe for bellarke as exes and this fic is one of my favourites. it’s a modern au with clarke as a mother and she cascades back into bellamy’s life without warning. perfect angst and anticipation. in love.

10. Love Like Fools - @talistheintrovert

the way I love talis with my whole heart. I'm always obsessed with her fics and the way this one was written was just magnificent. enemies to friends to lovers, roommates, angst, emotional comforting? SIGN ME UP. the perfect mix of all of those and I felt so good after reading this. always a fan.

11. It Had To Be You - @useyourtelescope

I had the honour of pre-reading some of this fic before it was published and I felt so privileged. a regency au with a prank war sprinkled in? perfection. hana honestly writes this so beautifully and I can’t recommend this enough. it’s so unique and we are all so incredibly lucky that there’s something in the bellarke fic world for everyone.

12. Veni, Vidi, Vinci - @carrieeve

Again, proof of the pudding that there’s something in fic for everyone. I’ve never read one like this before and it THRILLED me. murphy and bellamy working together to steal a Vinci? it was the fic I never knew I needed. the bellarke interaction in this was beautifully written and I am just completely obsessed. we really struck gold with the bellarke big bang works this year.

13. A Twist of Fate - @queenemori

let’s be honest, soulmate au’s are always wanted and needed in this fandom and kara does an excellent job of serving us this one. we got some team cockroach in here along with some top tier quality bellarke. what more could you ask for? if you haven’t read this fic yet, you need to. so thankful for kara being the absolute gifted babe that she is.

14. Power Over Me - @sparklyfairymira

okay, if you recently watched the witcher on netflix like I did, believe me, you NEED to read this fic. if you haven’t watched the witcher, this fic will make you want to watch it. the smut in this, the plot, the WRITING. absolutely phenomenal. have I mentioned how lucky we are to have such fantastic writers in this fandom?

15. There’s a Serpent Lying Deep Down in These Still Waters - @shaeheda

post apocalyptic au? SIGN ME UP. bellarke thrown together in unkind circumstances? SIGN ME UP. this magnificent human writing a fic? SIGN ME THE FUCK UP. I'm so in love with this fic already and I haven’t even finished it yet. as I've said, I've stopped reading fics in this genre until my own is completed but I’ve read enough to tell you that this needs to be on your next to read list. forever in awe of the talent here and this fic makes me feel so lucky to be part of something so great.

I hope this satisfies you for a while and that you enjoy all the bellarkey goodness that comes from these fics. I'm gonna drop some of mine below because why not? just in case you’re in need of something more.

1. I Found Peace in Your Violence

clarke griffin has it all. she’s popular, an artistic prodigy and has a wealthy family to boot. so when her perfect world comes crashing down around her, it’s time to sink or swim. she tests positive for the Homicidal Tendency Syndrome gene, also known as the kill gene. clarke is plucked from her comfortable life and placed into a school with people just like her - carriers, delinquents. when she meets bellamy blake there, he looks like everything they say HTS carriers are. a monster, a criminal. yet, he’s the one who protects her.

2. I Am Lost This Time

a void!bellamy fic that we all deserved to have happen in canon. an au where bellamy hears clarke’s radio calls from earth, sees her memories in m-cap and where she really is the key: the one that unlocks his memories and brings him back to her.

3. Purple, Blue, Orange, Red

bellarke are childhood friends and teenage lovers, reuniting in the midst of the same grief that tore them apart.

4. Devil Side

post apocalyptic setting and my favourite fic to have ever written. both of them coming together to survive and protect those in their family, including two small children. bellarke started out as strangers, who would have thought that they’d end up co-parenting in the middle of a world that is too dangerous to survive out in the open?

5. Waste It on Me

a soulmate/reincarnation au that I wrote based off my own breakup and feelings. probably my most popular fic and should keep you going in terms of bellarke feels.

#bellarke #the 100 #bellarke fanfiction #bellarke fic rec #fic recommendations #jensfic #eyessharpweaponshot #wonderful writers #wonderful fics

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sauntered-vaguely-downward · 4 years

Text

A Place to Stay, Part 4. Geralt x Reader.

Dont ask me where this story is going... I dont know. Dont ask me how many chapters... I dont know. All I know is Geralt is fit af, i mean if you dont believe me just look at that gif above, and I desperatly want him to LOVEEEEE MEEEE. so anyways... enjoy!

Y/N made herself busy getting some food together while her new house guest, Geralt, changed. She hadn’t been prepared to find such a large man hiding in her stable so the food she had on hand to offer him was limited.

It wasn’t much, she’d make him a proper strew or something before he left, but as Geralt returned changed into the dryer clothes (which fit surprisingly well) holding his wet ones in his hands, there was a plate ready on the table for him. A few slices of home made bread, some left over meat Y/N had from the week, cheeses and some fruit sat on the plate beside which she had also poured him a glass of her homemade wine.

“You’re lucky,” she grinned walking over to him, removing the damp clothes from his hands, motioning towards the plate on the table. “My brother is a large man, not large like you, he just eats too much, I fear if he wasn’t as fat there would be no chance of you fitting into his clothes.”

“I’m very grateful,” Geralt said, seating himself at the plate before him. Looking at the food before him he was surprised by not only how much she had given him, but the care that had clearly gone into it. “You must let me pay you for all of this, you’ve clothed and fed me, and given me a place to stay, I do not expect such kindness from a stranger for free.”

“Don’t be silly,” she smiled from the other room, doing her best to lay out his clothing on the rug in front of the fire to help it dry. “I can’t take your money, that would be wrong. You were in need of help, I won’t charge you for that.”

She slipped away only for a moment, coming back changed into warm dry clothes, laying her damp dress and shawl beside him on the floor. Making her way back to the kitchen, she joined Geralt at the table, sipping on a glass of wine as he ate.

“I’ll make you something hot and hearty before you leave, I would have made some now but by the time it's ready your bath would be ready.”

“This is more than I could ask for, thank you.” She smiled as he ate. Neither spoke for a while, oddly comfortable in the silence. It wasn’t until Geralt decided that now would be a good time to ask the kind stranger about herself. “If you don’t mind me asking, why is it you live alone? You have family and yet you choose to live out here, in practically the middle of nowhere.”

“Simple really,” she laughed a little, sipping on her wine. “I don’t like people.” Geralt couldn’t help the deep chuckle that erupted from his chest. “As much as I love my family, I much prefer the company of myself to that of others, I only go into the nearest town when I absolutely have too, for things like meat or fabrics, everything else I get from either my own garden or what I find in the woods. As little contact I can have with people the better I feel.”

“Ah a woman with a similar thinking to me I see.”

“Not a fan of people that much either then?”

“Well, it's more that people don’t particularly like me,” Geralt chuckled, feeling at ease to discuss the matter with her. “I’m not usually welcomed anywhere, my kind is seen as the lowest of the low.”

“What… a traveller? I didn’t realise that was considered that bad,” she said, the confusion evident in her voice. It hit Geralt at this moment that she genuinely did not know either who he was or what he was. “Personally I quite like travellers, they come with the best stories unlike those who remain in one place from birth till death.”

“You really don’t know do you?” Geralt had heard from her own lips that she rarely spoke to other people but clearly she was as incredibly serious about how little she interacted with others. She shook her head at his question, waiting for him to continue. “I am a traveller yes, but I travel because of who I am and the job in which it forces me to do. I’m a witcher.”

“Oh,” she wasn’t much sure what to say. Of course she had heard about witchers but all she had been told when she was younger either by her older brothers or other children was they were scary, born of magic, and incredibly dangerous. Geralt however didn’t seem like that in the slightest. Looking at him from across the table, sitting watching as he ate, she wouldn’t have said there was much scary about him aside from his sheer size, and the only fear she had about that was he might break her chair or knock himself out on a doorway. “I’ll be honest, I haven’t heard much of your kind, but you don’t appear to be the big scary monster everyone made your kind out to be when I was a child.”

“We can be,” Geralt’s voice was so deep it rattled her chest, “But we are not as different from everyone else as we are made out to be.”

“You certainly appear rather normal to me,” she smiled letting out a small chuckle, “Aside from the fact you were willing to sleep in what's basically a large shed rather than come inside.”

“Ah yes,” he laughed too. “Needs must and all that.”

The pair continued to talk, both being happily surprised by how easily the conversation flowed. Geralt, as much as he hated people, was rather enjoying himself as he sat and ate, and drank, and talked to her. She was nothing like anyone he had met, she didn’t care about who he was, didn’t ask about his life as a witcher like the others, she asked about him. It was only little things, like his favourite season, the best place he had ever been, even silly things like his most favoured colour. To someone like her this was nothing but a normal conversation, but to Geralt, it was a conversation that made him feel human. Nobody was ever interested in the things he liked, no they wanted stories of monsters and demons, and if it was Jaskier he wanted stories of women he had bedded, but Y/N seems only interested in him, nothing more.

The conversation only stopped when the bubbling of the bath in her tub could be heard. Grabbing him a towel from her basket she showed him where the bathroom was and all the soaps she had that he was welcome to use, blowing out the fire beneath so it wouldn’t continue to boil before dismissing herself from the room, allowing him to bath in peace.

#geralt x reader #geralt #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #witcher #the witcher #witcher x reader #the witcher x reader #witcher reader #witcher reader insert #witcher fanfic #witcher fanfiction #the witcher fanfic #the witcher fanfiction #reader #reader insert #fanfic #fanfiction

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randomfandomimagine · 3 years

Text

End Of The Year Faves

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 8 (ish) favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome work!

I was tagged by @myriadimagines and @musicallisto, thank you, lovelies!

10. Zack Fair (FFVII) gif imagine

I really love this one because it’s like the definition of short and sweet. It’s adorable, warm and I think I got Zack’s characterization pretty well and I often reread it when I need a smile. I just love my boy Zack and how this little thing turned out.

9. Connor (DBH) prompt (”I shouldn’t be in love with you”)

The reason I love this one it’s because I wrote it as one of my favorite things to write: a character study. I tried to express Connor’s struggle as he develops feelings for the reader and how conflicted he would be to have fallen in love with someone, having developed such a human thing as feelings. One of the many reasons why I love Connor is because of his arc in the game, because of how guilty he feels for becoming deviant despite being the very android that hunts them, it just gets to me. I’m just really glad that I could explore that in this prompt and that I managed to show it properly as well as make this more angsty, since my specialty is usually fluff.

8. Yennefer (Witcher) prompt (”I shouldn’t be in love with you” “Are you jealous?” “I’m so scared”)

This is the only Yennefer request I’ve ever gotten (besides one for a dating would include that I had already written), and I had so much fun writing it! Yennefer has appeared in my Witcher writings a lot, but never as a main character and never as a love interest, so that’s why this was so cool! I think she’s a very interesting character, so I really enjoyed getting the chance to explore her personality. I love how it turned out because I think it’s the perfect balance between her being sly and also being loving and showing her feelings for the reader.

7. Too Nice (John Ambrose McClaren, TATBILB ficlet)

John Ambrose is another character I really like writing for. What can I say? I fell in love with him and it was great to write something for him. This is somewhere between love and almost hate, with a lot of misunderstandings and complex feelings that ultimately lead to a happy fluffy ending. He’s just the sweetest and it was curious to write his reactions to someone who doesn’t always respond well to his kindness, even if because it flusters them.

6. Special (Howl Pendragon, HMC ficlet)

And yet another character I love. It was a bit hard settling on just one version of the character, because I love both the movie and book versions, so I tried to make it a little bit of both... even if this Howl is more suave and charming like in the movie rather than the absolute endearing disaster that book Howl is. Still, I always have fun getting other characters involved with the reader and their love interest, so I loved adding Calcifer and Marko to the mix. As well as the cute interactions Howl and reader have, I love the ending in which he hints at the fact that the reader unlocked something in his heart that he didn’t think was possible.

5. Kind (Jesse Pinkman, Breaking Bad ficlet)

I don’t often get to write about Jesse, so this was awesome! Peekaboo was one of my favorite episodes and it was amazing to get to explore it. While it’s not perfect, I really like how the connection between Jesse and reader turned out, how kind (:D) he is and patient and respectful, and I think I also poured a lot of emotion to the reader with that background.

4. Separated (Zuko, ATLA ficlet)

By this point, it’s obvious that I’m more proud of ficlets (because they’re longer and take more planning and more time and effort) and about characters I love because I think the passion I have for them is more obvious. I wrote this one right when I was watching ATLA because I loved (and still love) Zuko so much. It’s sort of a character study as well (it’s established that I adore writing them) and I’m so glad that I had the idea of getting Iroh involved because he’s awesome. This ficlet just has a lot of pining and repressed emotions that come out in the end and I love it.

3. Weight On His Shoulders (PS4 Peter Parker ficlet)

This one if pretty recent, as I wrote it after beating the game myself. This game is just awesome, and this is my favorite representation of Peter ever. He’s cute, charming, nerdy, loving, kind, a bit awkward and just everything that Peter and Spidey should be (at least for me). I wanted to represent both his personas in this one, and I like the balance I achieved with it as well as the emotions, the pining, the secret identity and in the end the understanding of the reader. The part with Spidey saving reader is great and I’m very happy with how reader is prepared to confront him about it once they learn he’s Spiderman only to change their mind when they see how much it’s weighing on him so they decide to relax with him for a bit.

2. Reunion (Cloud Strife, FFVII ficlet)

I’ve written a lot of things for this fandom this year because I was super inspired after beating the remake with my brother, I loved it (honorable mentions to Heal My Heart and Stars In Your Eyes, two other ficlets that I wrote and I’m very proud of). Cloud has always been one of my favorite characters, and in this one I got to examine a side of him I usually don’t. Not only does this ficlet include Zack Fair (another one of my favorite characters) but it also goes along with an idea I had been thinking about for a long time of a female reader pretending to be a boy to get into SOLDIER and becoming friends with them, but it also shows Cloud as the meeker and shy boy he is in Crisis Core. It was so cool to write about him back then and after once he had joined AVALANCHE. His relationship with the reader was also bittersweet because of their past and it’s just so complex and emotional that I love it, especially their reunion at the end.

1. Soul of a Warrior (Jaskier x Nissa, The Witcher Fanfiction Series). This was a big project, as series always are. I spent several months planning and plotting the story and even more months writing it, and also revising it once it was finished before posting it. I put so much effort, love and time into this series that it absolutely had to be number one. Soul of a Warrior is probably the thing I’m most proud of (that I have written) in 2020.

As most of you know (my mutuals definitely do, as they have gifted me amazing things with him), Jaskier is probably the character I fangirled the hardest about this year. I wrote many things for him (the ficlet What Would You Do Without Me? deserves another honorable mention because it’s probably my favorite thing I’ve written this year along with the series) and working on each of them has brought me so much serotonin. Jaskier is just such an amazing character, loving and compassionate but cheeky and selfish while at the same time being charming, optimistic, bubbly, extroverted and a huge flirt. So many layers!

But back to the series... Soul of a Warrior had one of the best faceclaims I’ve found, the sweetest friendship between my OC Nissa and Geralt and the slowest of burns romances with Jaskier. Him and Nissa are very similar in some aspects, so much so that they’re both too blind to realize the other’s feelings (idiots to lovers, am I right?) but they care so much about one another. The three of them were strangers, but they become family (found family, another one for the fandom bingo!) and I’m the proudest of how real and organic their relationship feels. Not to mention that their dynamic was super fun to write because Geralt is the only one that knows they’re in love and is so fed up and exasperated with their obliviousness. As well as this, I think I managed to mix action, emotion and depth really well. My secondary OCs feel more alive than others before them, Nissa was pretty complex and coherent and had a true voice of her own, and their part on the story feels important. There are tense moments, cute ones, sad ones, tragic ones... a little bit of everything. I think this one as a lot more angst and whump because I was in a bit of a dark place when I wrote it, but it still has hope and light in it, which I really love. The series also has a lot more violence than what I’m used to, but it was interesting to get out of my comfort zone a bit.

Overall, not only do I think it’s fun to read, compelling, funny and emotional all at once, I’m just very proud that I managed to write something a little different from what I usually do and feel like I did it well. I put a big part of me in this series and for that reason Soul of a Warrior will always have a special place in my heart 💜

That it’s, sorry if I ranted a bit! I tag anyone who wants to do this!!

#tag game #faves #myriadimagines #musicallisto

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occassionalfanficwriter · 4 years

Text

I see your Jaskier Falls in love first but Oblivious Geralt, Geralt falls in love first and Oblivious Jaskier, They both know Jaskier is in love but Jaskier doesn't know Geralt loves him back, They both know Jaskier is in love but Geralt is obliviously in love with him and raise you my contribution:

Geralt Falls in love first and falls in and out of love with Jaskier and Jaskier doesn't realize up until post dragon hunt.

So it goes like this:

Geralt doesn't have any opinion on bards and he's just minding his business treating everything as a background noice up until his brain suddenly registers the singing and he looks and sees Jaskier and it's love at first sight even if the song is terrible and horrendously wrong on so many levels. He can forgive that because 1. Bard and 2. Beautiful Singing Voice.

So he goes back to eating and thinks to keep this one as a memory. Nothing will come out of it because he is a witcher and the Butcher of Blaviken.

But then he hears footsteps and the bard is talking to him and look, Witcher School didn't include what to do when your crush talks to you in its curriculum so it takes him a while to register what Jaskier is saying but because Witcher genes, a while in terms of Witcher is equivalent to like nanosecond to humans.

So he gives 3 words and that's it. Geralt kinda hates himself for it but also thanks his self discipline that he didn't say some stupid shit like, "i like your voice" because that's probably an i love you is bardspeak.

And Geralt is ready for this to be over except Jaskier keeps talking and Geralt realizes that Jaskier ("what a nice name" "shut up brain" doesn't recognize a Witcher and Geralt entertains a one night stand and no more because we all know he accepts the love he thinks he deserves. Sad emo witcher™ etc etc.

But THEN! Jaskier pieces it out and then he's recognized as Geralt of Rivia and he leaves because he knows what follows his name.

'Story of my life' Geralt thinks because no good thing lasts when it comes to him. So yeah he's a little broken hearted up until Jaskier calls him the Butcher of Blaviken and then he falls out of love because you know he has standards. And he is slightly pissed up until they get captured and then he is pissed and sorry for Jaskier.

And then he keeps on getting disappointed with Jaskier especially on the beginning of toss a coin up until he hears the whole song and then Jaskier explains why he did what he did and Geralt falls in love again and has an introspection so Jaskier becomes his travelling companion.

And then they travel together and Geralt just wants to punch a whole drowner pack or go back in Kaer Morhen because in all the years he spent on the Path, Jaskier is the only one who gives him continuous emotional upheavals. Falls in and out of love towards this Bard that loves peole easily without a care for his own self and look this wasn't part of the Witcher curriculum. His heart and mind is in a seasonal love with Jaskier and the worst part is that Jaskier doesn't know.

Now to make this more fun think about this from Jaskier's side. It's the medieval fantasy era and during that time artists treat their Muses so much better than they would when compared to a lover, think about a fan that got close to their idol but little bit more personal and yet dettached at the same time.

Like Jaskier, calls Geralt his muse at the same breath as saying they are friends but back then a Muse was someone the artist saw and put into a pedestal. Flaws are loved and beautiful in their eyes. And Geralt senses this distance but can't articulate the feeling and Jaskier knows it but doesn't say anything because a Muse isn't like a comman man.

So Jaskier is toeing the line between keeping his Muse untarnished and being a friend. There is a fine line between Jaskier the Bard and Jaskier the Witcher's friend, and it begins and ends on Geralt's witcher job. Geralt doesn't notice this at all up until the mountain.

Because Jaskier easily flunctuates between his personas and does it seamlessly that it barely registers to Geralt. Because they don't travel together long enough even if they've traveled together for 10 years before the djinn incident.

Which brings the djinn incident and Yennefer to a whole new meaning.

Because when they meet, Yennefer knows a likeminded soul and Geralt is in the same boat as her. In and out of love. Jaskier is the Istredd to Geralt's Yennefer. And they bond over that and in this moment, Geralt is hurt and sorta tired of loving Jaskier but he doesn't want to stop. Add that with the sex magic and the almost dying and the djinn Geralt decides to fuck with Yennefer because they're on the same boat and nothing can truly come out of this.

And Geralt isn't adverse to friends with benefits and there is, in the depths of his heart, the unspoken desire for Jaskier to take him down on whatever pedestal he was placed on by doing this thing with Yennefer.

But it never happens and its just awkward. Because nothing changes, Jaskier still keeps on treating him the same and he just wants to keep on being in love with jaskier and not fall out of love because of whatever new muse Jaskier found while away from him.

He wants to be more than Jaskier's Muse,to be his only muse, to be a friend and to be his lover but he can't because Jaskier goes where the winds take him and Geralt is afraid that one day he'd walk the path alone and Jaskier won't return to his side.

And then the whole dragon hunt happens and he hears Jaskier's offer and he wants to take it. Agree and make promises that whenever they part there is a place where they will meet and it will be theirs but then he hears the words,

"-for a while."

And Geralt knows that whatever he'd have with Jaskier on the coast won't be permanent it would be a fleeting moment and they'd be back where they started and Geralt.Is.So.Fucking.Tired.

So he simultaenously says all the words he doesn't want to say and the words he want to say and he is fed up with the world and himself because nothing ever comes out right from his mouth and Jaskier is hurt but Geralt has no fucks to give right now.

He just wants Jaskier, wants Jaskier to remain in his life for as long as possible, something permanent that he can hold onto, something that makes him different from the other people Jaskier has come to collect over the years, something more than whatever it was that he had with De Stael.

So Jaskier leaves and he is one muse less and sure it hurt but artists takes their pain turns the ugly into something beautiful and its what Jaskier does. Her Sweet Kiss is his pain and heartbreak turned into a beautiful song and after that he turns to his other muses. Finds other Witchers and interesting people with interesting stories and sometimes ordinary people with their beautiful ordinary stories.

Except his fellows from Oxenfurt realizes this and Jaskier gets an awakening and has committed the most heinous crime, for him, by falling in love with his Muse, Geralt of Rivia the White Wolf. He had debased his Muse by doing so and suddenly the parting is more painful and more just in his eyes because real artists don't do that. They illuminate their Muses and makes them more brilliant, loving them and not loving them at the same time. And Jaskier stops singing because he knows whatever song he'll make next won't hold up to what he had made when Geralt was his Muse.

His other muses were not muses at all but lovers and he has fallen the same way his many colleagues did once in their career. So he takes up writing for awhile because there are stories to be told, stories that are not song worthy but worthy to be told in writings. Jaskier becomes just Jaskier and he grows for it.

In a different way than Jaskier the Bard had grown and he accepts his many failings both as a friend and as a Bard to Geralt.

So the next time they meet, both of them has grown as a person and Geralt takes the first step because he has learned that sometimes no matter how many times he has been hurt that it is better to have known love that left guessing what it would have and he had chosen Jaskier a long time ago. Settled his heart on the gentle palm of Jaskier's calloused hand and trusted that it would be taken care of.

Geralt apologizes for the hurtful words and bears himself naked to Jaskier's eyes, lets himself be known and finds comfort in the knowledge that no matter what Jaskier had once loved all of him. He lays his heart and soul bare to this person who had seen beyond his worst and taught him how to be his best.

And Jaskier accepts him as he is and as he was all the while saying sorry for the hurt he had unintentionally gave him and all of this gives Ciri hope even if the world is in turmoil. Because this is what she would be fighting for, it was more than just surviving and peace for her now.

Because Geralt and Jaskier has shown her something that calls to the primal part of each person's soul. Something that has been discarded by the world for a long time, something thought of as useless and disdained and yet it was what would make the world a better place.

In between the wartorn and ravaged land that the world became underneath Nilfgaard's army, Geralt and Jaskier learned and remembered the gentleness and healing of love.

A love that comes from a place of understanding and striving to be good, to others, to the ones we love, and to ourselves. That separation doesn't always mean good bye, that not all bridges that have been burned can't be rebuilt anew, and that there is always someone who will look at you and see all of you, even the parts of yourself that scare you because they have loved you and decided to keep on loving you.

And for all of the pain they gave each other, intentional or not, they had chosen to love and keep on loving each other. And Geralt knows that Jaskier has made his choice and that choice is him.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #mini fic #also a prompt #the quarantine is making me yearn lads #mobile tumblr

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seanfalco · 4 years

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So I had a thought for another ValdoxReader, if you want. Your repeat-Reader is a minor noble. You know who else comes from nobility? Jask. So maybe he and the reader are old friends (or even formerly arranged betrothed?) and she and Valdo run into him on the road. A jealous snark off ensues and/or Something happens and our beautiful bards have to set aside their differences for the reader's sake?

Fandom: The Witcher Pairing: Valdo Marx x Reader / Former lover!Jaskier x Reader Word Count: 2.5 k Rating: T Tag List: @ficsandcatsandficsandcats @nevadawolfe @magic-multicolored-miracle @wayward-dream a/n: Sorry I’ve been away for a bit, been overwhelmed with some stuff and working on some original fiction. :3 This takes place after ‘A Matter of Honor’ & I got a little carried away trying to push through this writer’s block, oops. I hope you enjoy it though. <3

Another day, another courtly party.

Upon arriving you were met with talk of another world renowned bard slated to perform that evening, much to your paramour’s chagrin and you wondered just who the mysterious performer might be.

Valdo’s sharp green eyes surreptitiously scanned each room you entered, no doubt searching for his competition, though he would never admit that he actually saw anyone as such, and you fought back a grin; squeezing his arm reassuringly. He turned to you and smiled, his expression softening, and that was when you saw him across the room, recognition flashing across your visage before you could stop it.

Valdo noticed instantly, his gaze seeking out what had caused your reaction, his warm smile twisting to a disdainful sneer.

“Ah, Jaskier,” he hissed. “So that is the other entertainment they invited. I would have thought the Noble host had better taste than that talentless wastrel who spends his time pandering to the masses.”

Arching an eyebrow at the venom dripping from Valdo’s words you glanced past him at the other bard -- the man you once knew as Julian.

“So… you know him, do you?” you asked.

“Unfortunately,” Valdo answered coolly, raising his chin to peer haughtily across the room at his rival. “From my days at Oxenfurt Academy,” he explained and you wondered how Jaskier hadn’t noticed the icy glare currently piercing his shoulder blades -- surely the hostility in your lover’s gaze would itch.

It was obvious Valdo despised Jaskier enough as it was, you could see no reason why you should disclose your own history with Julian Pankratz as well. For that would surely only fan the flames and that was not a fire you wanted to fight this evening. All you had to do was keep the two bards apart.

Simple enough, in theory.

Jaskier performed first, which seemed to mollify Valdo slightly. You heard him mutter something about him ‘getting the audience warmed up for him’ and you shook your head ruefully.

Careful to keep your expression neutral during Jaskier’s performance, you slipped your hand in Valdo’s, twining your fingers with his and pulling him off to the side for a few stolen kisses, hoping the distraction might help lighten his sour mood -- all the while wondering if omission of the truth was the same as a lie or not.

When it came time for Valdo to take the floor he brushed shoulders with Jaskier, his icy sneer a match for the other bard’s fierce glower.

Wonderful, you thought with a sigh; obviously Valdo’s disdain for Jaskier was mutual and all the more reason to keep the two apart.

Settling in to watch, your eyes followed Jaskier as he left the room and a small sigh of relief passed through your lips. Soon the large hall was filled with people dancing -- some gracefully and others rather drunkenly, for the host was far from stingy with the wine and you rose from your spot at the table to find more of said wine to refill your cup and possibly peruse the sumptuous spread of deserts.

Nearly being trampled by a spirited couple twirling across the floor, you stumbled backwards into a pair of waiting arms, catching you before you could fall. Your savior set you upright and you straightened your skirts as you distractedly thanked him, finally raising your face, your voice failing as you found yourself met by a pair of clear blue eyes you hadn’t looked into in years.

“Julian!” you exclaimed once your voice had returned and he flashed you a grin, the cheeky one you remembered all too well, which was usually accompanied by trouble.

“[Y/N], it really is you,” he replied, looking over you as if he still couldn’t quite believe it. “I caught sight of you earlier, but thought my eyes were playing tricks on me. How are you?” he asked. “You look… stunning.”

Smiling politely you waved away his compliment. “You look good yourself,” you replied, taking note of his thread of gold embroidered doublet, wondering who his tailor was and imagining Valdo in something similar.

“I’m well,” you continued, refocusing your attention on Jaskier, a genuine smile slipping through. “I’ve been traveling lately, seeing the world.”

“Oh?” he asked, surprise flitting across his boyish features. “On your own?”

“No, I have someone I’m traveling with,” you answered, somewhat enigmatically as you poured yourself a drink, your eyes searching for Valdo amidst the crowd. Luckily he was still preoccupied and hadn’t seemed to notice you speaking with his rival.

“Well, where is he? Or she? I’d love to meet the lucky person who’s managed to pull you out into the world.” Jaskier asked, glancing around as if expecting your beau to appear at your side any moment.

Choking on your wine only bought you a handful of seconds to think as you swallowed, a lame excuse springing to your lips. “Ah, he’s… around here somewhere. Perhaps I’ll introduce you later.”

Jaskier appeared a trifle disappointed, but he soon perked up again as he asked if you happened to catch any of his performance. As you caught up, you found it rather ironic that you’d nearly married a man who had run off to become a bard, only to end up in love with another bard. How different would your life have been, you wondered, if Julian hadn’t broken off your arranged betrothal to seek his adventure?

“Would you like to dance?”

“What?” Jaskier’s question pulled you out of your thoughts and you gaped at him, mouth moving soundlessly for a moment. “Oh, I dunno, uh, maybe later,” you floundered, certain that Valdo would see if you took the floor with Jaskier, even for one song.

“What, are you worried your lover will get jealous?” Jaskier asked with a laugh, flashing that rakish grin as he spread his hands.

Before you could answer, you felt an arm wrap around your waist and you jerked, glancing over to find Valdo at your side. “Jealous? Of you Pankratz? I think not.”

Jaskier’s surprised face might have been comical in any other situation but as he stared wide eyed and gaping between you and Valdo you chewed your lip.

“Am I missing something?” he asked incredulously. “[Y/N], this must be a joke, because you can’t seriously be with-with him. With Valdo Marx,” he nearly spat the name, while Valdo glared back, equally disgusted.

“I assure you, it is most certainly not a joke,” Valdo shot back, bristling. “The only joke I see here is you.”

Jaskier spluttered angrily as Valdo ignored him and turned back to you.

“[Y/N], please tell me you don’t truly know this poor excuse of a bard? ...Because it seems as if you two are already acquainted.”

“I, uh…” you hesitated, not quite meeting his eyes which flashed momentarily with betrayal. “Yes, Valdo,” you admitted, though quick to assure him it wasn’t what it looked like -- as if you were going behind his back. “I know Julian from a long time ago. We were friends as children, but I haven’t seen him for years. How was I to know that you two were… rivals?” you asked, a frustrated snap to your voice.

“Rivals? More like bitter enemies,” Jaskier grumbled under his breath, though you ignored it, keeping your eyes trained on Valdo’s.

“You… may have a point. I don’t recall ever mentioning him, nor my distaste for the drivel he peddles as music before tonight.”

“Hold on a moment,” Jaskier butted in, his eyes narrowing with mischief. “We were more than just friends, I’ll have you know. [Y/N] was my first kiss and we were very nearly married.”

“Julian!” you hissed warningly, no trace of amusement in your tone.

Valdo’s eyes hardened as his lips went taut; his arm around your waist tightening perceptively. “Not exactly something to boast of, Pankratz, as I’m assuming you were the one who broke it off, no doubt to chase your dreams of fame,” he sneered. “You are a greater fool than I thought, if you let [Y/N] go so easily.”

“Oh my Gods,” you groaned, completely fed up with the pair of them and their bickering. “You two are acting like children. Valdo,” you exclaimed, turning to the man at your side. “I have no feeling for Julian other than friendship, and Julian,” you said, next directing your attention to the other bard. “Stop antagonizing Valdo just to make him jealous! It is cruel and beneath you. I understand neither of you care much for each other and that’s fine, but in my presence at least all I ask is you be civil, like adults, for my sake.”

Giving both of them one last stern glare you slipped out of Valdo’s arm and stalked out of the hall, leaving them both quite speechless and thoroughly chastened. Without a word Valdo took off after you. Prideful as he oft was, he was loath to admit you had a point, though he knew it was true, and his pride was certainly not near as important as you were.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Jaskier cried, scrambling to catch up to Valdo, falling into step with him with a frown. “Where do you think you’re going?”

“To find [Y/N] and apologize to her,” Valdo explained shortly, purposefully quickening his stride so Jaskier would have to as well if he wanted to keep up.

Jaskier’s frown deepened as he noticed, breathing beginning to labour as he worked to keep pace. “Well, I’m coming too!” he announced. “Don’t think I’m going to let you look like the mature one here,” he puffed, swinging his arms forcefully.

Valdo glanced over at him and scoffed. “Oh please, Pankratz, you will never be mature, no matter how much you age.”

“You take that back!” Jaskier gasped, blue eyes widening at the insult.

“I will not,” Valdo replied sharply.

“You--! You… rapscallion!” Jaskier cried, grasping for a suitable retort, thoroughly scandalized.

Valdo’s lip curled with amusement as he continued to look for [Y/N].

Up ahead a commotion shook the small gathered crowd, pulling Jaskier and Valdo up short. Glancing at each other curiously they proceeded to push to the front.

“What’s going on?” Jaskier asked at the same time Valdo demanded, “What’s happened?”

“Oh! Valdo Marx…” The chief servant withered visibly when he turned to see who had arrived. “I’m afraid there’s been a-an accident.” The man blanched further under Valdo’s level gaze and Jaskier hovered next to him anxiously.

“What do you mean? What sort of accident?”

“A d-disgruntled member of the kitchen staff came out wielding a large knife, raving mad and-and abducted one of the guests.”

“Which guest?” Jaskier exclaimed sharply, though he and Valdo could already guess.

“Why… the young lady that accompanied you, Valdo Marx,” the man’s voice wavered as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. “We’ve alerted the guards, but --”

“Which way did he take her?” Valdo demanded, cutting the steward off.

“Uhh, that way,” he answered, pointing down the hall. “Deeper into the estate, but -- wait, it’s dangerous!” the man called as Valdo already turned in the direction indicated, hurrying down the hall, Jaskier right at his heels.

“Are we really doing this?” Jaskier panted, jogging now to keep up.

“I am, Pankratz,” Valdo replied, barely seeming to break a sweat. “I could care less if you tag along or not.”

“Oh please! Just admit you might need my help!”

Before Valdo could answer, the telltale sound of a struggle could be heard from the balcony up ahead and he shushed the other bard, pulling him off to the side. The two crouched down, moving closer so they could get a clear view of the madman, brandishing a long dagger and pulling [Y/N] along behind him.

“Get your hands off me!” you cried, struggling in the servant’s grip. “What do you think this is going to accomplish?”

“Shut up wench!” the man hissed, pressing the blade closer to your skin as you drew back. “I just want what’s owed me. And the ransom I’ll get for your pretty head will do just the trick. If you cooperate I won’t have to hurt you.”

“So what’s the plan?” Jaskier whispered, blue eyes flicking back and forth between [Y/N] and Valdo.

“You really want to help, Pankratz?” Valdo asked, his sharp green eyes never straying from the knife at his beloved’s throat.

“I do! I care about her too!”

Valdo thought for a moment, stroking his goatee thoughtfully. “Good, then a distraction will do nicely, I think.”

Jaskier nodded, thinking quickly. “That, I can do. Now, watch a professional at work, Marx.”

Standing and straightening his blue doublet Jaskier stepped out into the hall with a flourish, his hands spread, and an ingratiating smile on his face.

“You there, don’t come any closer!” The servant cried as soon as he spotted the bard, holding the dagger out toward Jaskier.

“Oh my, there you are,” he stalled, flashing a small smile for you. “I’ve er, come at the bequest of the uh, host to find out what it is you are after and how we might get [Y/N] back safely.”

The dagger lowered slightly as the servant obviously believed him. As Jaskier kept the man talking, you swallowed, catching movement off to your left and quickly averting your eyes, lest you alert your kidnapper. Without warning you felt Valdo slip around behind you, the glint of steel visible in his hand before the arm around your waist went slack and the dagger clattered to the ground.

Pulling you away and into his arms, you buried your face against Valdo’s chest as several guards rushed in and hauled the servant to his feet as he clutched at his side, blood running through his fingers.

Taking a shaky breath you glanced over at Jaskier who slowly approached before tilting your face up to Valdo’s.

“Are you alright, my darling? You’re not hurt in any way?”

“I’m alright now, thanks to you two,” you murmured, tracing Valdo’s jaw before reaching out to take Jaskier’s hand and squeeze it. “You know, I’m sure you’ll hate to hear this, but you two make a pretty good team. Perhaps you might translate that to your music?”

Both men recoiled at your words, eyeing each other with disgust.

“Songbird, are you quite certain you haven’t retained some sort of head injury?” Valdo asked wryly and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“No, I’m serious. You should think about it.”

“I think this may be the one and only time I agree with Valdo Marx, [Y/N]. I don’t see that happening any time soon,” Jaskier exclaimed, propping his hands on his hips, though he couldn’t quite keep the grin from his face. “I think the only time we’ll put aside our differences will be the next time you get kidnapped.”

“There will be no next time!” Valdo cried, frowning disdainfully at Jaskier, his arms tightening protectively around you.

#valdo x reader #valdo marx x reader #platonic!jaskier x reader #x reader #reader insert #the witcher fic #valdo marx imagines #reader request #magic multicolored miracle #my writing

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