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queenxxxsupreme · 2 years

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Congratulations on your milestone! Could I request an oneshot where it’s the moment where Jaskier holds baby Charlotte for the first time when she’s born, and he goes all soft, please? Thanks so much!! 😘

A/N: I have this whole story behind Charlotte’s name which if I ever get around to it would tie into an OC x Eskel fic that has to do with a sister of Jaskier’s and this whole dad!Jaskier AU kind of dabbles into it…. But I just have to kick my own ass into gear lmao.... also this is another one of the asks that was sent in over a year ago.... yikes I'm the worst lmao

Warnings: a bit angsty but fluffy, nothing outside of canon

You hummed quietly as you moved around the kitchen, making sure to be nearly as silent as possible. One week old Charlotte was just in the other room taking a nap. You had struggled to get her to sleep but now that she was finally asleep, you could clean up where it was needed.

As you were passing a window, you glanced outside out of habit. Your eyes caught sight of two horses coming down the path. One was Roach carrying Geralt and the other was Piper carrying Jaskier.

You hurried to go outside and meet your husband, but made sure to quietly close the front door behind yourself.

Jaskier jumped down from Piper’s back before she even came to a stop. He was so eager and excited to get to you, to make it to you before the baby arrived.

But as he started to approach you, he realized your stomach wasn’t as prominent as it had been two weeks ago when he left with Geralt for a contract.

The bard came to a slow stop, brows drawing together with concern. His lips parted as his breath caught in his throat.

“The-The baby.” He couldn’t even form a complete sentence.

“It’s alright, my love.” You assured him, placing your hands on his arms. “She’s inside.”

His features immediately softened. His hands came up to your biceps.

“She?”

“Mhm.” Tears sprung from seemingly nowhere as you nodded your head.

Without missing a beat, Jaskier pulled you in for a hug. His arms wrapped around you so tightly, hands pressing against your back.

“When?”

“Six days ago just before sunrise.”

His shoulders trembled as he cried into the crook of your neck.

The both of you had been told by your midwife that the baby wouldn’t be born for three more weeks, so you encouraged Jaskier to go with Geralt on one final trip before fatherhood prevented him from traveling for a while.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Nonsense.” You brought your hand up to brush your fingers through his thick dark hair. “We are both safe. I only wish you would have been here to witness her birth.”

He pulled away to look at you. His cheeks were stained red and tears dampened his skin. You reached up to brush the tears away, smiling softly.

“Would you like to see her?”

“Of course.”

Jaskier started to go towards the house, his hand firmly holding yours. You hesitated. Your eyes found Geralt.

“Come on, Geralt. You must see your niece.”

“I will be in momentarily.” The White Wolf told you, a soft smile playing on his face. “I’ll put the horses up.”

***

Jaskier squeezed your hand intermittently as you led him down the hallway towards your bedroom.

“She just laid down for a nap not too long ago.” You warned him.

He let your hand go and began to go to the crib by himself. You remained near the door, watching your husband with teary eyes. You had cried multiple times since her birth thinking about what this moment would be like, and now it was finally here.

Jaskier took his lute off and gently placed it on the floor against her crib.

“Oh my gods.” He whispered.

Inside the crib was what looked like a wrapped up loaf of bread. But the little face poking out from the off white cloth made his heart melt.

Without hesitation, Jaskier picked her up.

“She barely weighs anything!” He whispered, blue eyes very briefly finding you. He returned his gaze to Charlotte as he cradled her in his arms.

“Right now, she has your eyes.” You moved to stand next to him, leaning your chin on his shoulder. “Hopefully it stays that way. You have beautiful eyes.”

“She’s got your nose.” He chuckled softly, then sniffled. “What-What have you been calling her?”

“We agreed on Charlotte. After your sister.”

Jaskier brought his gaze back to you.

“Thank you, Y/N.”

“We agreed on it.” You cupped his cheek and used the pad of your thumb to gently brush the tears away.

“No, thank you for this. For-For giving me a daughter.” He turned his head to kiss your palm. “It’s more than I ever could’ve asked for.”

“My love, I’d give you the moon and stars if I could.”

Jaskier leaned his head down to rest his forehead against yours.

You both stayed like that for a few moments, eyes closed and taking in one anothers warm breath. It was comforting to just be there with your husband and now with your daughter too.

“Geralt is going to love her.” Jaskier pulled back, a bright and proud smile on his face.

“Let’s go introduce him.”

Taglist: @samuraigrl89 @burningcoffeetimetravel @open--till--midnight @beautifulsweetschaos @gm_abbo @thefirelordm @here4thespice @many-fandoms-lover @one-eyed-captain-kinky @sparrowsparadise @bluscryn @blushingskywalker @buckysxgal @lady-of-glass-and-bone @super-calithehamm @invelda @eddyofthetruth @hc-geralt-23 @persephonehemingway @adhdhufflepuff @Purple-Tsuki @bitquirkydoe

If your name is in italics, it wouldn’t let me tag you :(

#jaskier x reader #jaskier x reader fluff #dad!jaskier x reader #dad!jaskier fluff #dad!jaskier #dad jaskier #jaskier fluff #jaskier #the witcher netflix #the witcher #kacey answers #anon #queenxxxsupreme

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kingeomer · 2 years

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He’s The One I Dream Of

Geralt/Jaskier / rated teen (for language and innuendo) / 3,002 words / ao3

this is part one of my totally self indulgent coffee shop au which is half abandoned while i wait for my fluff brain to return. it’s also the first fic i’d written in about 8 years when i wrote it last year. please be gentle, and enjoy.

Geralt’s alarm was unrepentant this morning, beeping furiously on his bedside table. With a grumble, he threw an arm out blindly, thankfully not hitting anything in the process, and fumbled to find his phone, hitting snooze on the screen and laying back with a sigh. Just five more minutes, he told himself. Five more minutes, and then it’ll be 5:20, he can push himself out of bed at 5:20, debate whether to shave, swallow down some painkillers, and start the morning routine. Five more minutes…

And then Geralt’s second alarm started up. A loud meow from the hallway, followed by frantic scratching at his bedroom door frame and another howling meow. Fuck, so much for five more minutes.

“Roach, for fuck’s sake!” Geralt groaned, turning onto his front to bury his face in his pillow, tugging the covers up to hide despite knowing it was pointless. Roach let out another howl, and Geralt groaned, lifting his head from the pillow to squint at the closed door. Groaning again, Geralt pushed himself up on his hands, hair hanging loose in front of him as he arched his back, stretching much like the horrible, demonic cat on the other side of the door.

Hauling himself up with a sigh, Geralt got out of bed, grabbing his glasses and his phone from the bedside table and opening his bedroom door to glare weakly at the soft ball of fur blinking up at him.

“Come on, little shit. Breakfast time,” Stepping around Roach -who immediately started trying to wind around his ankles- Geralt headed towards the kitchen, setting about feeding his little buddy and affording her scratches between the ears. Watching as Roach started to eat, he crouched to give her gentle pets, stroking down from head to tail with a fond smile, cooing nonsense as he did.

Straightening back up with a grimace, Geralt rubbed at his aching thigh muscle as he headed to the bathroom, taking a box of codeine from the cabinet to pop two pills, washing them down with orange juice from the fridge as Roach ate noisily at his feet. The smell of baking bread from downstairs had quickly become unignorable and all too welcome, and Geralt smiled to himself as he padded down the corridor to open his apartment door, finding a brown paper bag and a coffee cup waiting on his doormat with a scrap of white till roll taped to the cup lid.

“Morning sleeping ugly xx” written surprisingly neatly, with the i’s dotted with little hearts, in Lambert’s handwriting, making Geralt roll his eyes fondly. Fucking moron.

Taking his bag of goodies and the coffee, Geralt headed back inside and made a beeline straight for the small balcony leading off his living room, snatching up his cigarettes and lighter, so he could wake up slowly in the fresh air. Soon after, Roach came to join him, weaving between his legs and rubbing her cheeks against his ankles, making Geralt laugh softly. It was early, and his body still ached, but the sun was rising, he had fresh croissants for breakfast, coffee and a cigarette, Roach was purring at his feet, and Geralt had seen him yesterday.

Geralt didn’t know the other man’s name yet, he just referred to him in his head as “Blue Eyes”. The man was, for lack of a better word, breathtaking. Blue Eyes had started coming in to the coffee shop a few weeks ago, almost always very late or very early, usually with his guitar case, often with eyeliner smudged around his bright blue eyes, and every time Geralt had to make someone else, be it Lambert or Ciri, serve him, because Geralt could hardly think when confronted with the other man’s soft features, elegant ringed fingers, and that thick thatch of hair that spilled out of his open collared shirts.

Geralt was, to put it bluntly, fucked.

Flicking cigarette ash over the edge of the balcony, Geralt leaned on the railing, rubbing absently at his stubbly cheek with his other hand and sighed. Fucking Blue Eyes. Taking two quick, deep pulls from his cigarette, Geralt dropped the butt into an empty plant pot, and he scooped Roach up into his arms before heading back inside, tickling her under the chin as he held her snugly to his chest.

With a yawn, Geralt sank into the couch, and Roach hopped from his arms and began to knead at the cushion next to him as he tilted his head back, blinking up at the ceiling as he let himself drift back off, lulled by the sounds and smells coming from the bakery downstairs.

——————————————

Geralt woke again with a start, this time to the intercom buzzing loudly. Fuck. He hadn’t overslept as such, as he wasn’t due anywhere for hours yet, but he had planned on going for a jog, enjoying the mostly empty streets before the city woke up. But now it was mid morning, he had a stiff neck, and Roach was glaring at him for causing the loud noise that woke her up.

Hauling himself to his feet, Geralt padded across the flat, picking up the intercom and grunting down the line. “Yeah?”

“It’s me! Open up!” a high, feminine voice responded far too loudly, causing Geralt to pull the receiver away from his ear with a grimace. Fucking teenagers. Geralt pressed the button to open the magnetic lock on the outside door, allowing Ciri to enter the building, and took the front door off the latch for her, heading into his bedroom to get dressed.

Re-entering the living room dressed in an old, worn loose t-shirt and dark jeans, Geralt brought a pair of socks out with him and perched on the arm of the couch to put them on as Ciri pottered around in the kitchen, plates and mugs clattering as the kettle boiled away.

“Sorry, why are you here?” Geralt asked, head tilted to one side and his face contorted into a confused sort of frown as he looked across the room to the young blonde currently struggling to reach the good biscuits Geralt kept on a high shelf. Ciri cast a glance over her shoulder at Geralt, stood on her tiptoes with one arm supporting herself on the counter top while the other rested on a shelf two lower than she wanted to be.

“To ruin your life, obviously . Get the bickies, old man,” Ciri gave Geralt a pointed look, dropping back onto the soles of her feet, her trainers making a soft thud before she moved over to the kettle, dropping teabags into two mugs to make them both a drink. Geralt sighed softly and did as he was told, getting up and heading into the kitchen, lifting a hand to grab a box of fancy Marks & Spencer biscuits from the top shelf and setting them down.

He turned, and leaned against the counter top, arms crossed over his chest, as he watched Ciri add milk to the two mugs before tucking her bright blonde hair behind her ears. “With tea?” He asked, a soft smirk on his face. Ciri gave him another pointed look over her shoulder, every inch of her screaming “fucking idiot”.

“Here,” she said, handing Geralt one of two matching mugs, bright pink with “i love horses” printed in the middle of several horses, a result of a stupid inside joke she’d latched onto without knowing half the story.

Sitting by on Christmas Eve after unwrapping his Secret Santa gift as Lambert cried laughing and Eskel explained to Ciri with the patience of a saint that Lambert had already given Geralt that same mug, that it was half the reason they called Geralt a horse girl, and explaining the other half of the reason (that Lambert had traumatically discovered Geralt was a size queen after accidentally finding his toy collection, not that Geralt liked horses particularly much), and Ciri not reacting with horror or revulsion but by throwing her head back and laughing along with Lambert and Yennefer had just sealed her place in their group.

Ciri was one of them, and her ability to make fun of Geralt while also looking at him with unbridled adoration was proof.

“Your little fancy man was in the shop last night,” Ciri informed him while taking a sip of her own tea from a matching mug, leaving Geralt to roll his eyes with irritation while he also felt his heart rate pick up sharply at the mention of Blue Eyes.

“Dunno what you mean,” he tried to brush the comment off nonchalantly, setting his own mug down and reaching for the biscuits, helping himself to a white chocolate covered wafer and a tuile curl, fully intending on using the latter like a straw when Ciri carried on speaking.

“Julian, his name is. Or Jules , that’s what his mate called him,” Sticking a hand in her jacket pocket, Ciri pulled out a scrap of paper, and Geralt felt like his heart was fit to burst out of his chest with how fast it’d started beating. “And I told him you’d text him.”

Written on the paper was a phone number, with a little note attached. “Hi Geralt, feel free to send nudes! Jaskier xx”

Yep, Geralt was fucked.

——————————————

A few hours later, Geralt and Ciri were seated at a table in the coffee shop downstairs, joined by Yennefer and Lambert whenever they could spare themselves. Geralt’s phone sat on the table between them, the note from Jaskier next to it as the four of them debated what he should send.

“You could just send him nudes…” Lambert had most unhelpfully suggested, causing Ciri to screw her face up in mild disgust. “What? The man literally asked for them!” He added, depositing two coffees and two sandwiches in front of Geralt and Ciri, staying at Ciri’s side of the table to avoid the inevitable swing of Geralt’s arm.

Geralt threw his friend a glare, and picked up his sandwich -bacon with a fried egg between two slices of French toast- taking a large bite as he continued to glare at Lambert while chewing.

“It’s not a bad idea, darling,” Geralt’s eyes snap to Yennefer, a look of betrayal on his face. Of all the people to agree with Lambert’s idiotic ideas, Yenn was at the bottom of the list, and yet here they were. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, I’ve seen you naked.” Geralt rolled his eyes, ducking his head to try and hide the hot blush he could feel burning his cheeks.

“ Gross !” Ciri groaned, nose scrunched up again at the very thought of Geralt naked. Although by now she was used to mildly inappropriate conversations between the idiots she worked with, she still didn’t want to think about any of them in that capacity, thank you very much. Least of all Geralt and Yennefer, Christ.

Geralt rolled his eyes skyward, gesturing to the phone still sitting on the table between them. “Can we focus on the task? Please?” There was a throbbing feeling beginning to set in behind his eyes, for God’s sake. He should’ve just ushered Ciri out of his flat and worked this out on his own, doing this with everyone involved was a mistake. What is it they say about too many cooks?

Geralt scratched at the back of his head, a nervous habit he’d picked up whenever he was starting to feel a little too stressed out, and he tugged out the elastic holding his hair up in a messy bun, letting his silver curls fall down as he continued scratching at his scalp. “Knock it off, pretty boy,” fingers wrapped around Geralt’s wrist and tugged it away from his hair, and Geralt snapped his head round to glare at Eskel, the younger man giving him a grin as he let go of Geralt’s wrist. “You finally get the little twink’s number?” Eskel continued, slipping into one of the free chairs at the table and stretching out, legs spread so he could nudge Geralt with the toe of his boot should he feel the need to.

“Ciri meddled.” Geralt grumbled, opting to tap his fingertips on the table top. He hated how transparent he’d been over this… this fixation , that everyone around him could read him like a book.

Ciri preened a little across the table, flicking her white blonde hair over her shoulder in an overexaggerated display of cool, cocky confidence. “I’m amazing, Gerry, I know.” Ciri responded, smiling at the older man across the table so sweetly and innocently, making Eskel snort a loud laugh, made worse when Geralt’s face contorted into an indignant frown.

“Don’t call me that,” he groused, annoyed by the way Ciri, a teenager he’d not even known a full year yet, could bug him and get under his skin like his two oldest friends could, and that throb behind his eyes was getting more pronounced, God damnit.

The café door flinging open suddenly didn’t help matters, Geralt whipped his head round with his heart hammering from the shock, and then promptly felt like it was either going to stop or beat right out of his chest at the sight of him . Jaskier. Only he didn’t look like Jaskier, Jaskier wore tight jeans and patterned open collared shirts, wore smudged makeup and looked like sin. This Jaskier wore a smart, well tailored suit, the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt were unbuttoned but the rest of him was prim and proper, almost a direct contrast to the man Geralt was so familiar with and still the most blindingly attractive human being Geralt had ever laid eyes on.

“Hi! Can I get the biggest, strongest coffee you can make? I don’t care if it tastes like shit, it just needs to get the job done,” Jaskier leaned against the counter as he gave Lambert his order, all long, lean lines enough to make Geralt’s mouth go dry. He watched as Jaskier pulled his phone out of his pocket, tapping at the screen to pay for his drink, and then he glanced around the room and his big blue eyes landed on their table, and a smirk spread across his face as his gaze landed on Geralt.

Fuck. He was coming over to their table.

“It’s… Geralt, right?” Jaskier asked, gesturing towards Geralt who suddenly felt like a deer frozen in car headlights. Oh, this wasn’t supposed to happen, was it? He was supposed to send the other man a text message, win him over from far away and feel a lot more comfortable talking to him face to face. There was no way out of this, now, though, short of the ground opening up below him, or the kitchen setting on fire suddenly.

“Uh, that’s. Yeah, that’s me.” Geralt cringed. Now would be a good time for the fire alarm to start blaring. Instead, he got a nudge from Eskel’s boot, and when he didn’t respond right away, a second, harder nudge. Shooting Eskel a glare, Geralt looked back to Jaskier and managed a small smile. “Hi, Jaskier.” He added, not really sure what else he was supposed to say.

And then, of course, everything had to go wrong. Geralt pushed his chair out to stand, his intention being to… to offer a handshake, maybe, or suggest they step away from his weirdo friends and talk somewhere more private, but of course, he had to bump into the table as he stood, and he has to swear loudly and at length when his inner thigh made contact with a pointy corner.

“Fucking jesus cock loving Christ!” He cursed, not realising until at least seven sets of eyes were fixed on him how loudly he’d spoken. Geralt felt his cheeks growing hot, and again, ground, time to open up.

Jaskier looked at him with a cocked eyebrow, and a slight smile was tugging at his lips, replacing the shocked look. “That was impressive,” he teased, tone light as if they’d known each other for years, enough to put Geralt’s jangled nerves at ease. He smiled at Geralt, a slight teasing grin with a soft edge, and God, Geralt was doomed.

“Was um, was just gonna text you,” Geralt mumbled, cheeks still flaming hot but feeling somewhat less embarrassed thanks to Jaskier’s playfulness. He gestured vaguely at the table, at his phone and the thrice-damned napkin, Jaskier’s bright eyes following his hand and his smile not faltering once. Geralt shoved his hands into his jeans pocket, nerves starting to get the better of him.

Jaskier stepped forward, though, closer to Geralt, and fuck , he smelled divine. “Wanna walk me to work..?” he asked, a deceptively innocent look on his face. Geralt felt like his heart was pounding out of his chest, but the other man, the charming, beautiful man in front of him, he was doing his best to calm Geralt’s nerves. Fuck, Jaskier was a good one, wasn’t he? Someone he could let in and who’d put him at ease.

Geralt nodded slightly, swallowing past a lump in his throat. “Y-yeah, that’d be. Nice. Good.” Geralt cleared his throat slightly and smiled, and before he could second guess himself or get caught in his own thoughts he snatched his phone up from the table, and walked to the counter to grab Jaskier’s coffee for him. “Shall we?” He asked, holding the cup out with a slight smile. Yeah, yeah. He could do this.

Their fingers brushed as Jaskier took the cup from him, and it wasn’t quite like something from a romance novel, there weren’t really sparks or fireworks, Geralt’s breath didn’t catch. They brushed fingers, though, and it felt right , no awkwardness, no need for stuttered apologies. And as they fell into step and Jaskier held open the door so Geralt could step outside ahead of him, Geralt felt like yeah, maybe this would work.

Fuck, he’d have to buy Ciri so many fucking tins of biscuits after this.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #fluff #coffee shop au #geralt's got a cruuuuuush #he's also got crippling anxiety but more on that at 10 #cat!roach #kaer morhen is a coffee shop but vesemir is still everyone's dad #manda writes #kaer morhen coffee house

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process-pending · 1 year

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Chapters: 64/64 Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel/Triss Merigold, Lambert/Macee (Original Character), past jaskier/valdo marx Characters: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Jaskier | Dandelion, Eskel (The Witcher), Lambert (The Witcher), Triss Merigold, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, Vesemir (The Witcher), Macee (Original Character), Aiden (The Witcher) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Biker AU, Geraskier, Triskel, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Fluff, family by choice, Found Family, dnd, Fiber Arts, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Domestic Violence, Major Character Injury, Disabled Character, Jaskier Has a Physical Disability, Physical Disability, Chronic Pain, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Aftermath of Violence, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Getting Together, Financial Issues, Financially Poor Jaskier | Dandelion, Food Insecurities, Musician Jaskier | Dandelion, Poverty, Angst with a Happy Ending Series: Part 1 of Take Me Back (To the Night We Met) Summary:

"Witcher business?” Eskel asks, recognizing the fury burning in Geralt's eyes, the one that stemmed from innocents being hurt by monsters who deemed themselves men. Technically it is in that Valdo will be blacklisted but the rage, the want to show him how monsters are dealt with isn’t. It would never be sanctioned, should never be. “Valdo Marx is blacklisted. Every chapter to be notified. He’s not welcome here, better for him if he doesn’t make it through the doors,” Geralt’s words are calm, but it’s the danger that lurks in the spaces between. Lambert looks over his shoulder at Eskel as he shifts to the side, keeping an eye on Geralt. This was broad strokes measures, actions with repercussions that couldn’t be easily undone. We all know the story of how the White Wolf saved the Songbird, but this, dear reader, isn't that story. This is the tale of how it would have gone should the White Wolf find out long after blood has been spilled that someone else ensured the Songbird lived to sing another day. This is how the Songbird gains an army of Wolves to bring the monster to justice all while learning he's just as strong with a damaged wing.

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shy-urban-hobbit · 9 months

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28 + Geraskier!

Here you are Nonnie! Some Geraskier angst/ fluff for 28 - "I care about you."

Jaskier had always been there, taking care of Geralt. But who takes care of the caretaker?

“You alright?”

That did it. After being cast aside on a mountain, tortured, imprisoned, the whole Voleth Meir thing and everything in-between, it was those two words leaving Geralt’s mouth that caused Jaskier to break.

He wrapped his arms around his torso, hugging himself as he cried. Geralt stared like a startled deer before he sat next to him on the half rotted bed and hesitantly gathered the bard to his chest.

“Jaskier?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Jaskier pulled away slightly, attempting a smile which only looked more like a grimace as tears continued to fall, “No idea what that was. I’ll be fine in a second.”

“Jaskier.” Slightly more forceful this time

“I’m fine, Geralt. You don’t have to humour the human and pretend to care about my petty grievances. I don’t see any of you lot crying about it because you’ve had a bad day.”

A decades old memory stirred: A young Geralt, eavesdropping on Vesemir and an old Bear Witcher who had needed a place to stay for the winter. He couldn’t remember the details of the conversation but he remembers an unfamiliar, rumbling bartitone asking “And who takes care of the caretaker?”

Jaskier had always been there. Patching up Geralt’s wounds, making sure he was well fed and well rested (and well paid) after a hunt, knowing exactly how to pull him out of his own head when he started feeling a little too melancholy. Even after everything on the mountain, Jaskier had helped Geralt without a moments hesitation.

And Geralt had....

“Who takes care of the caretaker?”

He tightened his hold on the bard, “Not pretending Jask, if something’s upset you enough for...this, then I want to know.”

Jaskier gave a watery laugh, “Holy Hell, Ciri really has turned you into a dad hasn’t she? Mr. Witcher’s-don’t-talk-about-feelings.”

“You’re deflecting.”

He felt Jaskier slump against him, “It’s nothing. These few months have just been a bit much.”

It was testament to how much his bard had changed. When they first met, the "nothing” would have been Jaskier scuffing his new boots. Now it was being heavily involved in aiding Elven refugees, spending an entire night holding his own against a fire mage alone and then everything at the Keep with barely space to breath in-between. Geralt would have been impressed if he wasn’t so terrified on Jaskier’s behalf.

Jaskier gave an exaggerated sigh as he finished, “Phew! Sorry to suddenly dump all of that on you. It’s not like everyone else here hasn’t been through worse.”

Geralt felt himself tense at those words, which in turn caused Jaskier to tense.

“Uh, Geralt?”

“The fuck Jaskier. You’re acting as if all of that was a stroll through the fucking woods.”

Jaskier lowered his head, “I’m sorry.”

“No. That’s not what I-” Geralt sighed through his nose, “I’m doing this wrong. I’m trying to say I – that’s not nothing, Jaskier.”

Jaskier tilted his head in a slightly birdlike manner with a “Huh?”

“I’ve known experienced soldiers who have cracked under less than that. You shouldn’t have had to carry all that alone and I’m sorry you felt that you had to.”

Jaskier gave a slightly bitter laugh, “Shit shoveller, remember? I...I didn’t want to push you away again by adding to everything.”

“No, Jaskier. I pushed you away and I never should have fucking done that.” He gently took both of Jaskier’s now healed hands in his, “Please don’t keep stuff like this from me again. I care about you too much for you to suffer like that.”

“Good riddle that: How much is too much?” Jaskier asked, trying to sound lighter than he felt in an attempt to joke his way out of the awkward tension which was now building. He expected Geralt to give one of his usual grunts, maybe a three words quip if he was lucky.

What he wasn’t expecting was Geralt’s lips to land quickly and lightly on his. Jaskier would have been convinced he’d imagined it if it wasn’t for the fact that Geralt was still close enough that they were nose to nose.

“That a suitable answer to your riddle?” Geralt asked, gaze flitting between Jaskier’s mouth and eyes.

“Hmmm, close but not quite. You’re on the right track though.” Jaskier murmured before initiating the first of many longer, firmer kisses.

#the witcher #witcher #witcher fanfiction #geralt/jaskier #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #jaskier/geralt #jaskier x geralt #witcher geralt #geralt #geralt of rivia #witcher jaskier #jaskier

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mattey-stu · 4 months

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MATTEY-STU'S MASTERLIST

Fandoms i write for:

Supernatural

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel Novak

Saw

Adam Stanheight

Lawrence Gordon

Mark Hoffman

Peter Strahm

Daniel Matthews

Five Nights At Freddys

Michael Schmidt/Afton

William Afton/Steve Raglan

Mortal Kombat 1

Johnny Cage

Kenshi Takahashi

Resident Evil

Leon Scott Kennedy

Luis Serra

Carlos Oliveira,

Agent Patrick (from Resident evil: infinite darkness)

Ethan Winters

Chris Redfield

Albert Wesker

Scream

Billy Loomis

Stu Macher

The Witcher

Geralt Of Rivia

Jaskier

The Princess Bride

Westley

The Crush (1993)

Nick

Cooties

Doug

You

Joe Goldberg

Forty Quinn

Gossip Girl

Dan Humphrey

Devil May Cry

Dante Sparda

I literally dk anything about the game or fandom hes just hot😞Someone educate me rn

American Horror Story

Tate Langdon

Kit Walker

Kyle Spencer

Jimmy Darling

Other people I'll write for:

Skeet Ulrich, Matthew Lillard, Devon Bostick, Josh Hutcherson, Eddievr, Ronnieaintavampire, Juicyfruitsnacks, Chico Lachowski, Jordan Barrett, Cary Elwes, Evan Peters, Luis Gerardo Méndez

What i WILL write (as in smut):

Choking, degrading, maybe petplay, ftm reader + cis character, cis reader + ftm character, cis reader + cis character, ftm reader + ftm character, hair pulling, blood kink, if requested breeding kink, younger reader + older character, if requested stepson x stepdad (dont even ask.), teacher x student (both 18+), incest (again, do not even ask.) MIGHT write noncon.But only if requested

What i WONT write:

Minor user + 18+ character, 18+ user + minor character, pregnancy smut, sa, scat kink corpse fucking, foot kink, fem reader, fem character

What i WILL write (as in platonic fluff):

Dad x son, brother x brother, uncle x nephew

This is a male reader only blog.Females aligned please DNI.

LMAOO WHYD I WORD IT LIKE THAT

When writing smut i will make any possible 18- characters 18+.

Whatevers not on here i might write. :P also i dont kinkshame🫶🏼

I do not condone any of the acts i write about.

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viking-raider · 1 year

Text

A WITCHER’S LEGACY - PART THREE: BONDS

Summary: You travel to Kaer Morhen with Lycus and Jaskier, while Geralt hunts down who's behind the Mage attack. Starting with Nenneke, in the Temple of Melitele.

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia/Reader

Word Count: 4.8k

Parts: I II

Warning: PG - Witcher!AU, Dad!Geralt, Soft & Protective!Geralt, Sassy!Reader, Language, Hurt/Comfort, Protective!Jaskier, Uncle!Jaskier, Confession, Separation, Nicknames, Memories, Unrequited Love, Rude Behavior, Fluff

Inspiration: A subject from my story, A Witcher’s Destiny, Season Two of Netflix’s the Witcher and a Quest in The Witcher 3!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy it! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to be added A Witcher’s Legacy Tag List, please message me!

I also have the story on my AO3

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLIST and turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!’

“I don't want to leave you.” You whimpered, tugging on the hem of Geralt's cloak, while trying to stifle back tears.

Geralt smiled softly, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulled you in, closing Lycus in between you. “I know you don't, my firefly.” He whispered, pressing his lips to your forehead. “But it's for the best.” He told you, looking down at Lycus, nestled inside your own cloak. “For you and our son.”

“We've never been apart for more than a day or two, since we've met, you know that?” You said, looking up, and trying to smile for him.

“I do.” He chuckled, golden eyes sparkling. “What is it that married couples say?” He quipped at you. “The ol' ball and chain.”

That drew a genuine laugh out of you. “Is this you suggesting we legitimately marry?” You teased back, nudging him with your shoulder.

“I've told you before, you've been my wife for a very long time.” Geralt answered, catching your chin in his fingers. “I don't need an alderman to tell me that.” He whispered, his forehead brushing yours.

“Unless, you want it?” He mumbled, softly.

“I don't need one either.” You assured him, sweetly. “Besides, I think this sweet guy bonds us together far more than a marriage contract ever could.” You said, glancing into Lycus's face, seeing so much of Geralt in his teeny features.

“That's more than true.” He nodded, smiling at his beautiful son. “Now, hop up on Bell. It's a four day ride from Asheberg to Kaer Morhen.” He told you, grabbing a hold of the rose gray horse's reins to hold it still, while you maneuvered Lycus in his sling and pulled yourself up into the saddle.

“Hey.” Geralt called quietly, squeezing your calf as he looked up at you.

You looked down, lifting a creased brow.

“I'll miss you and I love you.” He assured you, giving you a reassuring expression.

“Same, my wolf.” You rasped back, your voice cracking around the lump in your throat.

Patting your thigh, Geralt turned away from you and Lycus. Taking a deep breath, as he tried to ignore the raging storm inside his body that wanted to keep him from walking away, knowing the danger the two of you were in. Stiffening his jaw and squaring his shoulders, he set his right boot forward in the slimy mud, before approaching Jaskier, who was fussing with the buckles to his own horse's saddle.

“I'm entrusting their safety to you, Julian.” Geralt said, giving the Bard a stony, golden glare.

“Come now, Geralt, I will protect them as if they were my own wife and child.” Jaskier replied, clicking his tongue at the Witcher, in an attempt to sound confidently dismissive. “As if they were my lute!” He added, with a melodic laugh, glancing at his long-time friend.

“That's another thing I want from you.” Geralt said, turning an eye over his shoulder to you. “She probably won't hear of it, but should anyone ask on the journey to Kaer Morhen, they are your wife and child.”

“What, why?” The Bard frowned, shaking his head.

“Because, people are clearly trying to find a woman and her child that she had with a Witcher.” He replied, cocking his head at him, amused by his friend's airheadedness. “While it won't fool the people specifically looking for them, it'll keep word of their location from being spread.”

“Ri-ight.” Jaskier nodded, finally understanding. “If it comes up, I'll claim them.” He promised Geralt, reaching out to clasp his shoulder. “I'll get them to Kaer Morhen and Vesemir safely.”

“I trust you, my friend.” Geralt sighed, returning the gesture. “Until then, I'll be looking for the bastards that are up to this.”

“How are you going to do that?” Jaskier asked, curiously.

“When I took her to the Temple of Melitele, to give birth to Lycus, there was an incident.” He replied, eyes narrowing, as he recalled the moment. “I didn't think much of it, at the time. One of the visitors snooped on a conversation between Nenneke and I. It's a suspicion and my only lead currently.” He explained, biting his lip.

“Other than heading to Aretuza and demanding the name of the Mage, by the description I give them.”

“Well, Hell Hounds know no fury, like a father and a Witcher on a warpath to protect his wife and child.” Jaskier laughed, slotting his expensive boot into one of his saddle's stirrups, but paused, looking back at Geralt. “Oh, this is going to make a great song.” He chuckled, the wheels already turning in his mind.

“No, it won't, Jaskier.” Geralt warned, giving him a knowing look.

“I said, it would make a great song.” Jaskier huffed, rolling his eyes and heaving himself into the saddle, but leaned down. “I never said anything about singing it to the Continent, you muse killer.” He grinned, winking, and straightening up.

Geralt shook his head and moved out of the way, catching your eye as you nudge your horse northward, out of Asheberg and in the direction of Kaer Morhen. His slow heart clenched, seeing your reddened eyes, his brow drew together as he nodded his head at you. Doing his best to instill one last bit of hope and strength into you, before you lost each other around the bend in the road. Letting out a heavy sigh, Geralt turned and grabbed the horn of Roach's saddle and swung into it, turning the Chestnut towards the west, where the revered Temple of Melitele was situated, just outside the Duchy of Ellander.

He hoped that Nenneke would remember the man that interrupted their conversation the night he had brought you to her.

“She's resting now.” Geralt said, meeting Nenneke just outside her office. “It was a hard journey from Smallton. We could only ride Roach a quarter of the way, before it became too much for her and the babe.”

“Well, from the examination I gave her, she is quite far along.” Nenneke replied, her expression troubled. “I would expect her to give birth within the next two weeks or so. It was wise you brought her to me, when you did, Geralt.”

“I was worried about more than her just giving birth.” He whispered, pressing his lips together, exhausted from the long travel, as well as the concern about you and the pregnancy.

“I don't want to sound—odious, Geralt.” The Priestess started, trying to pick her words carefully, for the Witcher's sake. “I know you love her and the two of you have been together for a very long time. But-” She gulped, regarding him with a measured eye. “Are you sure that this child is yours?”

Geralt sighed and rubbed his face.

“I am sure that the babe is mine, Nenneke.” He nodded, meeting her gaze. “Without a shadow of a doubt, it's mine.” He said, his voice wrapped with conviction. “I know she would never betray me, and I can hear its heartbeat, it's slow. Just like mine is.”

“But how, Geralt?” Nenneke pressed, shaking her head, surprised and confused. “You are a Witcher! Witchers are sterile. You can not have children, because of your training!”

“I know that, Nenneke. Trust me, she and I both had that conversation.” Geralt grunted back at her. “But she's adamant. She's never lain with someone that can get her with a child.” He huffed, agitated in your defense. “Besides, I know when she's lying to me. Her heart speeds up and her eyebrow twitches. Neither of these things happen, when she's asked about her fidelity.”

“But I have my suspicion about what it could be, that made it possible.” He added, pushing his jaw forward.

“What is your--”

A loud crash filled the stone hallway, startling Nenneke and putting Geralt further on edge. They turned and discovered one of the brass candle holders had been knocked over, spilling the thankfully unlit candles to the floor. Frowning, Nenneke strode forward, discovering the perpetrator of the disruption, a man hiding behind a pillar, like a gecko attached to a wall.

“What is the meaning of this?” Nenneke demanded of him, angered to find him spying.

“I-I--” He floundered, mouth flapping like a caught fish.

“Leave my Temple at once!” Nenneke hissed at him. “I will not have such disrespect to Melitele and her visitors.” She barked, jabbing a finger towards the double doors of the great Temple.

“Begone with you, at once, before I call the city guards upon you!”

Hesitating for a second longer, the man bolted from the Temple and out into the pouring night.

With any luck, Nenneke would remember who the man was, enabling Geralt to track him down, and through him lead the Witcher to those that were now hunting you and Lycus.

You saw the city of Ban Gleán come into view as you rode over the ridge, Lycus snuggled inside your cloak, babbling to himself as he tugged at the neck of your bodice, while Jaskier hummed to himself just behind you; the trail too narrow for you to ride abreast.

“We should stop here for the night.” You called over your shoulder to the Bard. “Restock whatever items we'll need for the last leg of our journey to Kaer Morhen.” You told him, gently pulling on the reins as the trail sloped downwards.

“It's the last trading post we'll see until we get there.”

“What about Ard Carraigh?” Jaskier yelled back to you.

“High Rock is too far out of our way.” You replied, shaking your head. “We'd have to go all the way north, then east to make it to Kaer Morhen. It adds at least a day to our journey, and I don't want Lycus out in the open any longer than I have to.”

“Fair enough, my fair lady.” The Bard twittered, pulling up alongside you as the road widened. “What are we in need of at Lower Village?” He asked, pursing his lips and crossing his eyes as Lycus popped his head out of your cloak, making him giggle.

“Winter is three months away, but judging by the mountain range,” You said, jerking your chin in the direction of the Blue Mountains. “The snow has already fallen in that region.” You guessed, chewing on your lip, wishing Geralt was there to confirm your suspicion. “I'll have to get Lycus something warmer to wear. Since his other warm clothes were from when he was a newborn. But I'm sure Geralt will bring me things to knit him more warm clothing.” You sighed, looking down at the little boy, and smiled softly.

“That's if grand-papa Vesemir hasn't beaten me to that.” You chuckled, amused at the idea of the oldest, surviving Witcher on the Continent knitting baby clothes as he wiled away his time in the Witcher stronghold. You still had the little cap Vesemir had made for Lycus's first winter at the Keep, when he was just a few weeks old.

“We'll have to replenish our food satchel as well.” Jaskier added, patting the bag attached to his saddle.

“Yeah.” You nodded, narrowing your eyes at him. “If someone had re-framed from munching on it, it should have been enough to make it all the way.” You quipped at him, eyes gleaming.

“Madam, are you implying something?” Jaskier gasped, touching a hand to his breast.

“Oh, not at all.” You chuckled, fluttering your lashes at him. “I'm just saying we have some sort of ghoul amongst our party, that's nibbling the food supply.”

Jaskier leaned over in his saddle, bringing his face close to Lycus's. “You sir, need to keep your wee ghoul hands out of the food satchel. You hear your mother, you're eating us to starvation!” He gasped with dramatic outrage.

Lycus stared at Jaskier, froze in place, it made you laugh, seeing the blank, but intent look in his eyes. How you loved them, with the small flake of warm amber at the bottom corner of his left eye, like a coin dropped in a calm sea, of their otherwise cerulean blue. It makes your heart both sore and light at the same time. Your sweet little boy. He was a wonder to the world, both in how he was created and to how the world worked to him.

But your wonder was short lived catching wind of something vile.

“Ugh!” You winced, nose wrinkling and face twisting in disgust.

“What's the matter?” Jaskier asked, pulling back to look at you.

“Someone has soiled his nappy, big time.” You said, shaking your head at your son.

“The ghoul has struck again!” Jaskier howled with laughter, rocking back in his saddle.

You and Jaskier hastily made it to Ban Gleán and you quickly changed Lycus's pamper, before going down to the grocer's stall with the Bard.

“Why are you using your own coin?” You asked, watching Jaskier pull out a coin pouch to buy the two loaves of bread and other food items that would last you until reaching Kaer Morhen.

Jaskier's cheeks colored as he dropped the orens into the grocer's hand, nodding his head to the man, before moving away with you. “It's not really my coin.” He admitted to you, reluctantly.

“Oh?” You replied, cocking a brow at him.

“Geralt gave me the coin, in case you needed any extra, along the way.” He confessed, unable to take the expression you were giving him.

“Why would he give it to you, and not me?” You asked, frowning. “I'm the one he gives our coin to, when he wants to save it.”

“I guess, he wanted to do the same thing, just extending it to me.” Jaskier replied, biting his lip. “You know Geralt trusts you in all things.” He said, trying to soothe whatever worries or concerns you had. “But you also know he's a bit overprotective, especially over you and Lycus. Just wanting to make extra sure you were prepared and taken care of.”

You sighed heavily and gently touched your shoulder to Jaskier's. “I know that, Julian. I'm just--” You trailed off, unable to find the words.

“You miss him and would rather be with that sour puss, than this charmer.” Jaskier chuckled, putting his arm around your shoulders, hugging you against him. “Honestly, I thought you were crazy when you and Geralt got together.” He snorted, shaking his head. “I really had it pegged, you and I would have been a couple.” He said, voice softening and his eyes darting to Lycus for a moment, a hint of something guarded in them, before it vanished behind another laugh.

“But now, I see the two of you have truly been made for one another, and because of that, I found the Countess!”

You cleared your throat, surprised at Jaskier's confession that he had felt something for you. “How is Lara, by the way?” You asked, having met the Countess de Stael on several occasions over the years.

“She's magnanimous!” Jaskier grinned, smiling up at the blue sky.

“You angered her again, didn't you?” You asked, lifting a knowing brow at him.

“I may have, unknowingly, insulted a beneficial member of her circle, in one of my latest songs.” He winced, looking back at you.

You laughed, shaking your head. “How do you unknowingly insult someone, in a song, Julian?” You asked, pausing by a stall selling yarn and other knitting goods. “You had to use their name or a general depiction of them for it to be perceived as an insult.”

“Ah, yes! Well-” He laughed, flashing that charming smile at you. “I did happen to attend a banquet, where this Earl was also an invited guest. But word got to me that he made a tactless remark about one of my songs...”

“Oh?” You giggled as he trailed off, picking up a thick ball of black wool, indicating to the seller of your interest in buying it. “What song, if I dare ask?” You shot a look over your shoulder at the Bard.

“One of your own favorites!” Jaskier replied, up playing his outrage. “The Stars Above The Path!”

You gasped, turning towards him. “That's blasphemous!” You huffed, half playfully offended and half actually angered by someone having the gall to say anything negative about Jaskier's music. Jaskier was many things, but a bad song writer wasn't one of them.

He wasn't a multi-hit wonder across the Continent for nothing!

“That's what I'm saying!” He replied, his blue eyes wide with indignation. “That puffed up, misanthrope!” He growled, brows drawing together as he pictured the man in his mind. “Anyway! He said the song wasn't, and I quote, catchy enough.”

“Not catchy enough!” You retorted, your face contorting with your confused exasperation. “I've watched grown men cry by the second verse of that song!” You huffed, ready to track this mediocre critic down and give him a piece of your mind.

“Geralt's tapping his foot to that song!”

Jaskier's head jerked back with surprise. “Geralt...Geralt taps his foot to 'The Stars Above The Path'?” He asked, his voice shaking with disbelief.

“He does.” You nodded at him, smiling at the shock on the Songster's face. “If you ever tell Geralt I told you this, I will deny it on my son's name.” You told him, chuckling softly at him. “But Geralt of Rivia, infamous White Wolf, proclaimed Butcher of Blaviken and supposed emotionless Witcher, loves your music.”

“Well,” He sighed quietly, planting his hands on his hips. “That little shit.” He huffed, rolling his eyes.

You snorted at him, shifting Lycus as he moved restlessly against you. “I'm still your number one fan though.” You added in, paying the stall worker for your yarn and stuffed it into the satchel that rested against your hip. “Yes, I know my son.” You cooed, feeling Lycus tug at your bodice and grunted. “I'm going to the inn to find a room, I need to feed this little rascal.” You told Jaskier, then glanced at the vendor.

“Where's your inn?”

“The Clover Hunter is just down the road, the first building you come to, after the bend.” He explained to you, pointing the way.

“Thank you.” You smiled, nodding your head.

“I'll see you there, just going to finish getting a few more things here.” Jaskier said, waving a hand around the stalls.

“All right.” You replied, then set off for the inn, softly humming the Stars Above the Path as you went. “Your eyes, like the stars above the road, Your lips like a cup of delight!”

You could smell a sharpness of imminent snowfall in the air. Despite how good the warmth of the mid-afternoon sun felt on your back, walking down the cobblestone street, mindful of the horse and donkey piles that dotted it. Turning the corner and glancing up, you found the town's inn. A brass sign of a Hunter drawing an arrow, its glinting tip shaped like a clover, swaying softly from its walnut beam.

Up the creaking steps, that led to a small porch shading the main entrance, you could hear the ruckus inside. Even for it being so early in the day. Situating Lycus, you shoved the door open and the rush of sound filled your ears. People filled the tap room, mostly men and soldiers, sharing mugs of ale and mead, while leaning against the bar top or crowding the long tables. Serving women sailed through the thicket of sweaty and unwashed bodies with ease. Ignoring, swatting at or shooting a look at any of the males that made a grab at them or offered an ungentlemanly remark.

With a quick scan of the room, you found the innkeeper, a rail thin man, in such a state of balding, you might have mistaken him for a monk for a moment, had it not been for the apron and no nonsense look on his face. He only had a ring of salt and pepper hair around his head and a smooth dome on top, that shined in the light of the sconce, he stood beside.

“Pardon me.” You called to a Dun Banner, a Kaedweni light cavalry soldier, who was local to the city of Ban Gleán, and stood in your way to the innkeeper.

The cavalryman turned at the sound of your voice, and lifted a dark brow at you. You stared back at him. The smell of his stained, gold and black tunic, bearing the Kaedwen Unicorn, his lank and greasy, shoulder length black hair, coupled with his unwashed body was a powerful bubble around you and Lycus. You stopped breathing through your nose shortly after entering the inn, to help combat the assault of the smell that permeated in the air. But, it no longer helped.

Making your brow wrinkle, as you took a deep breath as quickly as you could and blew it out, just as fast.

“Excuse me, I'd like to get to the innkeeper, please.” You elaborated, as politely as you could, when he continued to just stand there, his ale thick breath wafting on your face, making your eye twitch.

“Would you now, darling?” He finally spoke, cracking a smile at you to show his one chipped front tooth and its missing partner.

“Yes.” You replied, putting some authority in your tone. “My son and I would like to rest.” You huffed at him, but tightened your hold on Lycus, should the soldier try anything.

The cavalryman's beady eye cocked downwards to see the top of Lycus's white head peeking out of your cloak. The little boy had stopped fussing about you feeding him during the walk from the stalls to the inn. Sufficing himself with sucking on the combination of his fist and the hem of your bodice as he grabbed onto it, steadily soaking the fabric with his saliva.

You didn't mind, he was quiet and content.

But now you were faced with the brute, who decided to test your patience. If Geralt had been here, the Kaedwenian would have gotten out of your way with a hard golden glare and a growl, despite being a soldier for the Kingdom of Kaedwen and Geralt being an evil Witcher. But, you were just a lowly woman with a baby, who would most likely lose interest in his fist soon and start screaming for lunch, if you didn't get this single brain celled, brute to get out of your way.

“Croso!” A voice roared from the thicket of people.

The cavalryman looked away from you, his black eyes lighting on the caller, his smile growing wider, at the woman. She had a hard face. But you had a feeling it was deceiving and she may have been younger than she actually looked in her burgundy and black, buskless, plain fronted corset gown.

“Morana!” He called back to her, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively at her.

“Stop pestering that lady and buy me a drink, you hound!” Morana scolded him, holding up her empty tankard. “Perhaps, I'll let you play with my toes later on.” She added an impish look in her gray eyes.

At that invitation, the Dun Banner was stumbling over his own feet, as well as into everyone, to get to the bar for a fresh mug of mead for her.

You looked across to Morana and gave her a gentle nod of thanks, which she returned with a kind smile. Now with your path less obstructed, you weaved through the crowd to the innkeeper, just as he finished a transaction with someone else.

“I would like a room, please.” You told him, once you had his attention.

“That'll be twenty Ducats, then.” He replied, hardly looking at you as he grabbed a tankard that was thrust at him, from someone behind you, and started to fill it up.

“That's fine.” You answered, taking the gold coins out of your money pouch and dropped them on the nicked up bar top.

Setting the overflowing tankard down with a slosh, the innkeeper swiped up your money and deposited it into his pocket, before waving you around the bar. You followed after him, mounting a set of stairs to the next floor, but bypassed that for the second floor. He took you to the end of the hall and shoved a door on the left open, jerking his head inside.

“This is the room.” He said, his face uncaring. “Don't cause any trouble.” He huffed, heading back downstairs.

“I don't plan on it.” You replied, looking into the room. “Oh, wait!” You called after him, catching him just as he took the first step down. “If a Bard comes in looking for him, please tell him where I am.” You informed him, not wanting Jaskier to worry you'd been stashed away somewhere.

“Sure. Fine. Whatever.” the Innkeeper shrugged and continued on.

“All right, my boy.” You sighed, going into the room, closing and locking the door behind you. “Let's get that monstrosity of a diaper changed!”

Geralt felt a small relief as the Temple of Melitele came into view as he crested the top of a hill, astride Roach. Urging the Chestnut onward, his troubled mind mulled over the situation for the hundredth time. He needed to find out who was looking for Lycus, and before they managed to do any harm to his son.

“Geralt?” Nenneke's surprised voice echoed in the vast, stone entryway of the great Temple.

“Nenneke.” The Witcher called back, giving her a wary smile, while handing over his swords to one of the other priestesses.

“What are you doing here?” She asked, shaking her head at him and looking around. “Where is your dear wife and that precious babe?”

“They're on their way to Kaer Morhen.” Geralt returned, leveling a tired and troubled brow at her. “Where it's safer for them.” He added, softer.

“Safer?” Nenneke frowned, her head cocking slightly in her increasing confusion, but she reached out and took Geralt by the elbow, ushering him to the back of the Temple, where her office was. “Tell me what's going on, Geralt.” She ordered him, motioning to the chair before her cluttered desk, while she began to brew them some tea.

Sighing heavily, Geralt folded himself into the seat, rubbing the side of his stubbly face. “There are people—a mage, at least that we know of, currently. Stalking my wife and son.” He put it, simply.

“Stalking, for what reason?” She inquired, skillfully pouring boiling water over a kettle of loose herbal leaves.

“I'm a Witcher that sired a child, Nenneke.” Geralt grunted at her, indignant. “Obviously, they caught word that Lycus is my blood and wish to do him harm.”

Nodding, Nenneke let the tea finish steeping and poured them each a cup, handing one over to Geralt, before taking a seat in her own chair. “You never did tell me how you managed to father a child, Geralt.”

“Since we were so rudely interrupted.”

“Yes, I know. It's the person that interrupted us, I believe is behind all of this mess.” He sighed, holding the hibiscus tea between his hands and stared into its deep red tint. “I want to know, if you remember who they were? Do you know their name? Or, perhaps, where they came from?”

“I might recall his name.” She nodded, pressing her lips together. “But, why don't we start with exactly how you came to have Lycus.”

Geralt gave Nenneke a critical look. He didn't want to talk about how you and he conceived Lycus. As complicated as it was to start with. He just wanted a name and a location of the man he was inquiring about. So he could settle into his room for the night, get a half decent night's sleep, in a soft bed, before traversing across the Continent in search of him and anyone else in the scheme, for the next three months. On top of plying his Witcher trade, so he could bring back supplies for the three of you.

But Geralt also knew Nenneke was far too curious to be deterred away from the subject.

“All right, fine.” He huffed, taking a large gulp of the scolding tea.

“It occurred during our stay in Toussaint.” He started, resting back in his seat, and looking up at the window set high on the wall behind Nenneke. The light slowly fading on the other side. “Originally, we were only supposed to pass through. However, an acquaintance of mine had a letter delivered to me, while in Beauclair, informing me of something that might prove troubling to Witchers.”

116 notes · View notes

fictional-malewife-tournament · 1 year

Text

Here’s our line up guys. 👍

Here is the list right now, there is a lot so they’ll be seperated into 8 groups and then we will go through all of those 8 groups to get to the end.

group 1:

Rom vs Puss in boots

Alex (stardew) vs Jim Kirk

Roulx Kaard vs Jin Zixuan

Caleb wittebane vs 2bdamned

David Kostyk vs Mirabel’s dad

Kanji tatsumi vs Papyrus

Bob vs weyoun

Donkey vs Duster

Gren vs Janus the silverdeath

Lloyd vs Hannibal lector

Todoroki vs Gajeel redfox

David (lilo) vs link (botw)

Sugawara vs Pixel-Mess

M!Robin vs Stanley pines

Ben Chang vs Quirrel

Saul Goodman vs Will graham

Group 2:

Kiryu vs Hero

The medic vs Ron

Percy Jackson vs professor Layton

Neelix vs Iggy frome

King Harrow vs Lucas (Runs factory five)

Yu Narakami vs Elliot (stardew)

Jakob vs Aoi kurashiki

Sokka vs Moxie

Nightwing vs tatsu

Archer (emiya) vs Master splinter (2018)

Barius vs Forrest

Ryuuji vs Jay walker

Sanji vs Garmadon

Quark vs Kaito

Fox mulder vs tenma tsukasa

Leon (Pokémon) vs Delbert Doppler

group 3:

Berdly vs Marten Reed

Kai (ninjago) vs James

Usui vs Gobber

Charlie vs Steve Harrington

Alec lightwood vs kronk

Paper vs Dr octopus

Discord vs Dedue

Arven vs Harvey Dent

Hunter vs Christopher Pike

Narciso vs Kermit

Cletus Jones vs Gomez Addams

Tom vs The king

Klavier Gavin vs Greg Universe

Kamado Tanjiro vs Brock (unikitty)

Ashe vs Louis Moriarty

Sisko vs dale lee

Group 4:

Trip vs Brady

Franky (one piece) vs Tom Wambsgans

Shinra vs Jaskier

Your father vs Banquo

Silver the hedgehog vs Troy Barnes

Archer vs Space Boyfriend

Donald Duck vs Mr clean

Ren vs Nandor the relentless

Cove Holden vs Magnus Burnside

Bail organa vs Hiccup

Riker vs Corpus

yoo joonghyuck vs Kazuki

Fan vs kunikida doppo

Lazlo cravensworth vs loid forger

Peter b Parker vs Ken

Ryunosuke Naruhodo vs venti

group 5:

Prince Fluff vs Sarek

Nagito vs Zagreus

Macbeth vs Lucas (mother 3)

Stede vs Anakin skywalker

Tack vs Felix Madrigal

Jason mendoza vs N (murder drones)

Ren (oxenfree) vs Soren

Saru vs Kaveh

Castiel vs Yarne

Ivor vs King furgus

Kuboyasu Aren vs James Wilson

Yeza Brenatto vs Kristoff

Makoto Naegi vs Stoick

Tomohisa Kaname vs hunk

Peeta vs Jadzia

Kim Gonja vs Henry clerval

Group 6:

Ron delite vs wang pangzi

Sam (Sam and max) vs Emmett

Kazuha vs serizawa katsuya

Jayce talis vs Asmodeus (iruma-kun)

Kai satou vs Professor Saguaro

Steve cob vs Minato Namikaze

Dean Winchester vs Chakotay

Eugene Fitzherbert vs Chat noir

Spitelout vs Spock

Matt hooper vs Childe

Siegblut vs Worf

Edric Blight vs Yanki

Control (from southern reach) vs Tuco Salamanca

Seteth vs Louis de pointe du lac

Maes hughes vs Kazuma Asogi

Dr Watson vs Thoma

Group 7:

Tennisball vs Barry bluejeans

Luigi vs Hatsuharu

Snotlout vs howl

Jay (ghosts) vs dj Octavio

Gregory house vs Elliot Spencer

The mad hatter vs Joe tazuna

Basil hallward vs Harvey (Stardew)

Ethan winters vs olruggio

Albedo vs pleakly

The heavy vs Jake English

Bruce Wayne vs Shen wei

Naven NukNuk vs Dante (mystreet)

Phillip vs bow

Anji Mito vs Fishlegs

Stanford vs Speedwagon

Bariel vs Jesse Pinkman

Group 8:

Ralsei vs Goofy

Sam (stardew) vs Seymour (little shop of horrors)

Ethari vs Cecil

Fix it Felix vs Kaoru hakaze

Ignus scientia vs Lukas

Majima vs Hercules

Magolor vs Calcelmo

Fred vs Randy Hapukurk

Kurogiri vs The riddler

Declan lynch vs Philza

Jaune vs Sergeant Schultz

Reiji Sakamaki vs Q

Luo Binghe vs King of hearts

Thatcher Davis vs Jonathan buyers

#Not submission #Hope you like this lol #Have fun imagining different battles

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leighsartworks216 · 2 years

Text

Masterlist

This will inevitably get longer the more fandoms and characters I write for, and I will absolutely be keeping it updated. Also, if links don't work, please lemme know and I'll fix em :)

Request Rules

Dialogue Prompts

Tag List Form

Marvel

Loki Masterlist

Also includes Mobius M. Mobius and Wowki/Lokius fics

Markiplier Egos

Markiplier Egos Masterlist

Baldur’s Gate 3

First Baldur’s Gate 3 Masterlist

Second Baldur’s Gate 3 Masterlist

I Come With Knives Masterlist

My Hero Academia

Shouta Aizawa/Eraserhead

Stressing About Finals - ao3 - Dadzawa x gn!reader (familial)

Warnings: brief mention of family abandonment

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic

Feeling Shitty - ao3 - Dad Mic x gn!reader (familial)

Warnings: feeling like shit, depression i guess, hurt/comfort, slight fem reader vibes kinda?? But it can be read as neutral. Oh also swearing just a little

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Number One Dad - ao3 - Dad Might x gn!reader (familial)

Warnings: none

Erasermic

Erasermic Drabble - ao3 - Shouta Aizawa x Hizashi Yamada

Warnings: none

The Witcher

The Viper - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10 - Part 11 - Part 12 - Author’s Note (PLEASE READ) - Geralt x gn!reader (platonic/familial), Jaskier x gn!reader

General warnings (Please read the warnings on each chapter): swearing, blood, fighting

The Viper: Rewritten - AO3 - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 7 - Chapter 8 - Jaskier x gn!Witcher!reader, Geralt & gn!Witcher!reader (platonic/familial)

General warnings: swearing, blood, violence/fighting

Jaskier

I'm Not Fine - Jaskier x fem!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort, monster attack, injury (not explicit), nightmares, fear of death (mostly implied)

The Old Witch Sleep - Jaskier x gn!reader

Warnings: mention of exes, hurt/comfort, gross descriptions of crying

Bloodborne

Rom, the Vacuous Spider

My Love - self-indulgent first person

Warnings: canon-typical depressing and angsty

Pokemon

Raihan

Dragon Trainers - Raihan x FTM!reader (headcanons)

Warnings: none

Star Trek

Leonard “Bones” McCoy

Logical - Bones x GN!Reader (platonic or romantic)

Warnings: swearing, injuries, angst + hurt/comfort with a happy ending

Data Soong

Painting Data’s Nails - ao3 - Data x GN!Reader (platonic)

Warnings: very very light angst

Biological Malfunctions - ao3 - Data x AFAB!reader (platonic or romantic)

Warnings: period fic, read warnings on fic

Pottery with Data - ao3 - Data x gn!reader (platonic)

Warnings: none, just fluff

Star Wars

Obi-Wan Kenobi

I Forgive You - Obi-Wan Kenobi x gn!reader

Warnings: hurt/comfort??, some fluff, read warnings on fic

Din Djarin

Goodbye to a World - AO3 - Din Djarin & gn!reader

Warnings: blasters are pulled out but not fired, lots of emotions dealing with walking to one’s death, angst

Ace Attorney

Miles Edgeworth

You’re Married?! - AO3 - Miles Edgeworth drabble

Warnings: none

Phoenix Wright

We’ll Be Okay - AO3 - Phoenix Wright (disbarred) x gn!reader (can be read as platonic)

Warnings: living paycheck to paycheck, depression, references to alcoholism, hurt/comfort, fluff, light angst

Not Guilty - AO3 - Phoenix Wright (disbarred) & “adopted” gn!reader (PLATONIC/FAMILIAL)

Warnings: allusions to murder, blood mention, possible abusive family references

I Believe In You - AO3 - Phoenix Wright (disbarred) x gn!reader

Warnings: mentions of murder, references to past mentally abusive relationships (not explicit), mentions of blowing noses/snot/mucus, like 2 swears

Klavier Gavin

Strawberry Lip Balm - AO3 - Klavier Gavin x gn!reader

Warnings: none

Legend of Zelda

Ganondorf

My King - AO3 - Ganondorf x gn!Hylian!reader/no-name OC

Warnings: making out, allusions to sex, possessiveness, size-difference

Forever and Always - AO3 - Ganondorf x gn!Hylian!reader/no-name OC

Warnings: none, just fluff

Wishes - AO3 - Ganondorf x gn!Captain!reader/no-name OC

Warnings: none

Lord of the Rings

Aragorn

Face the Crowd - AO3 - Aragorn x fem!Reader

Stardew Valley

Harvey

... Oops - AO3 - Harvey x gn!Farmer

Warnings: swearing, dizziness, anxiety, possibly OOC Harvey

On The Count Of Three - AO3 - Harvey x FTM!Farmer

Warnings: needles, injections, mention of fear of heights, anxiety, references to Harvey's ten heart event, slight hurt/comfort, semi-implied transphobia (not addressed)

375 notes · View notes

bambirex · 8 months

Text

It's A Game We Play: Chapter 3

Pairings: Geraskier, Yennskier, Radskier

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

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

Rating: teen and up audiences

Full word count: 7,390 words

Chapter word count: 2,576 words

Chapters: 3/?

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

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

Chapter summary: Geralt, Radovid and Yennefer all receive letters from someone who meant a lot to them many years ago. Meanwhile, Jaskier seeks support from his best friends, oblivious to the letters his daughter forged in his name.

Author's notes: Obviously, the letters found them. Here's some more personal info about the three candidates, and a little friendship sweetness.

Read on Ao3

“Dad! Dad! Are you asleep?”

“Not anymore. You sound like a fire alarm.”

Geralt groaned as Ciri jumped on the bed, hitting him in the side with her knees. Geralt rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a sigh. He only had work in the afternoon, and he hoped he would get to sleep in late for once in his life- his daughter had different ideas, clearly.

“Thank God for summer break,” Geralt murmured as he glanced at his digital watch on the bedside table. “What possessed you at 7 in the morning that you had to scream me awake?”

“I’ve been up since 6,” Ciri replied as she lounged on Geralt’s bed. “The mailman was here.”

“Okay.” Geralt failed to see why that was such a big deal that Ciri had to wake him up for it.

“You got a letter,” Ciri announced as she propped her feet up on Geralt’s lap, ignoring her father’s morning misery.

“Okay.”

Geralt didn’t really receive letters, except for the advertisement mags he definitely did not subscribe to. Ciri called him a hermit, but that was an over-exaggeration: Geralt simply wasn’t too fond of people. He didn’t like big crowds and loud noises, so he tried to avoid them as much as he could. He enjoyed living a simple, routine-filled life: he got up, went to work in the town’s small gym, took care of his clients, then he went home to his farm where he only had to interact with his brothers and his adopted daughter. Geralt was completely fine with this. He didn’t need chaos in his life. The less mess, the better, was what he always said.

“You never get letters,” Ciri pointed it out. Geralt hummed and closed his eyes again, sinking back into his pillow. Even without his eyes open, he could imagine Ciri’s cheeky grin as she said, “it’s because you’re a hermit.”

“Thanks for reminding me again,” Geralt chuckled. “What would I do without you?”

He meant it sarcastically, but he truly didn’t know. Funny how that was, because he never thought himself to be good father material when he was younger. He never believed he could give a child the kind of love they deserved. But as he got older, he realized he was much more of a family man than he originally thought. He lived his life surrounded by his brothers, and while they got on his nerves, he really loved them. Hitting his forties, Geralt realized he had a lot of love to give, and while he never managed to find a partner he was comfortable committing to, he did want a family of his own. He and his brothers were all adopted, raised by a single father who took care of them after their biological families stopped wanting to. It inspired Geralt to lean into the caring streak inside him, and thus, he adopted a ten years old girl, Ciri, four years prior.

She was a sassy thing, a real teenage menace now that she was fourteen years old. She was stubborn and always got in trouble, but Geralt was a patient man. He loved his daughter with all his heart, even when she kicked him awake because of a stupid letter.

“I didn’t realize you had friends,” Ciri continued, poking him in the face with the paper. “Especially from Thanedd Island. Isn’t that a little too far away?”

Geralt sat up so quickly he nearly sent Ciri flying off the bed. His heart sped up inside his chest as he stared at the letter in his confused daughter’s hand.

“What did you say?” Geralt croaked. Ciri raised an amused eyebrow at him.

“Thanedd. Some Jaskier sent it to you?”

The room started spinning with Geralt. He kept staring at the letter, waiting for it to disappear and find out it was all just a dream. Thanedd. Jaskier. Shit. The memories flooded his brain right away. It was twenty years ago, but he still remembered the time he’s spent with Jaskier, clear as day. He remembered the pretty Omega waving him down in distress when his car decided to die under him. He remembered intense blue eyes on him all the while he helped him change his tire. He remembered running into Jaskier pretty much every day after the accident, feeling both annoyed and endeared by his insistent flirting. He remembered the night they’ve spent together, Jaskier in his arms, looking up at him with such adoration like Geralt hung the moon and the stars.

Geralt remembered feeling love like he has never felt before, and hasn’t felt ever since.

But he was scared of those new, confusing feelings, and he ran away from them. He loved Jaskier, he really did, but he was a stupid, young Alpha who wasn’t really okay with himself and who didn’t know what he wanted out of life. So, he broke Jaskier’s heart and his own. The look on Jaskier’s face when Geralt said goodbye to him still haunted his dreams.

He took the letter from Ciri with shaky hands. The envelope even smelled like Jaskier, sweet cinnamon that made Geralt’s head swim. He had no idea what he would find once he opened that envelope, but he had to know. After spending so much time trying to forget Jaskier, he realized he wasn’t able to.

The knock on his door felt like a real salvation. If Radovid had to listen to one more word coming out of that man’s mouth, he would’ve done something that would land him in jail. He had a degree in economics, and the guy thought he couldn’t count?

He should have been used to this by now, probably. Radovid inherited the company about twenty years ago, and all the jealous douchebags thought it was just handed to him. It may have happened a bit suddenly, but Radovid wasn’t just sitting on his throne and making his employees do all the work. He finished college, graduated top of his class, and built a thriving business from scrap all on his own. Most executives were old, uptight Alphas who thought of Betas as a useless secondary gender, so of course, they looked down on him. It was very satisfying to show them that Radovid could do better than all of them- still, having to take part in an online conference with an absolute idiot wasn’t his favorite way to start his day.

“Come in.”

His secretary poked her head inside with a polite smile.

“Hey. You’re still on that conference?”

“I turned it off. What’s up, Kara?”

“You got a letter,” she said as she entered his office. Radovid sent her a confused look.

“An actual, hand-written letter? And it’s not a gas bill?”

“It was sent to you, personally,” Kara said as she handed the envelope to him. Radovid took it with a sigh. He was certain it was a mistake, or maybe one of the execs decided to threaten him and they skipped sending e-mails.

Radovid nearly fell out of his chair when he noticed a familiar name on the envelope.

Him and Jaskier spent a lovely time together on Thanedd Island. Radovid hasn’t met anyone like that Omega ever since. He was sweet, but sassy, dorky but deeply intelligent- and beautiful, the most beautiful thing Radovid has ever laid his eyes on. He could have been just a one-night stand, an adventurous Omega Radovid had fun with, but he was more than that. They didn’t just have sex: they connected. Every look, every touch, every sweet smile was remarkable. He left a mark on Radovid, but he couldn’t stay there with him on the island. He needed to come back home and take care of things. Too much time has passed since then for him to try and seek Jaskier out.

It made no sense. Jaskier must have settled down with someone since then, had a family. He deserved it.

Radovid has entertained the thought, sometimes, but then he always realized he wasn’t cut out for that. He never settled down, never bonded with anyone. His schedule was too packed for that. It was probably pathetic, that he cared more about his mango trading organization than about his own happiness, but he simply didn’t have time for the latter. And, let’s face it, the idea of him as a family man was ridiculous. He wasn’t meant for that.

But Jaskier must have matured since then, must have found himself a gorgeous Alpha or whoever he wanted. He most definitely wasn’t a workaholic, stuck-up businessman with no personal life outside of his one-night stands like Radovid was.

God, what could he want from him after all those years? What could be so important, that Jaskier wrote to him, a personal letter, especially?

Radovid swallowed heavily as he opened the envelope to find out.

Yennefer stared at the piece of paper in her hands. She had half a mind to throw it into the trash. It must have been a prank. Someone must have been messing with her. Because there was no way that someone she slept with twenty years prior would suddenly decide to send her a letter out of nowhere.

And yet, the name on the envelope belonged to the Omega that Yennefer so desperately tried to forget. Jaskier, the fucking moron who tried to seduce her all the time while she did her internship at the inn on Thanedd. She tried to resist him, but then her heart got the better of her and she took him to bed. Yennefer hated to admit it, but no one could ever compare. And she hated it even more, but she may have fallen in love with that ridiculous Omega on that night.

The boy must have put a curse on her, maybe that was why she never managed to find the one. It wasn’t as if she never tried: she longed for a deep bond, someone she could love, and someone who would love and take care of her in return. She wanted children, a family. But she never managed. Nothing ever worked out for her. No one was ever right. Either her partner didn’t want things to be as serious as she did, or Yennefer bailed, realizing she wasn’t with the right person.

Her life was quite the mess, to be completely honest. She was forty years old, mate-less, childless, working as a cook in a small bistro instead of being the Michelin star chef she dreamt to be. Yennefer has given up on finding a happy ending for herself, long before her last divorce was finalized a couple months prior.

She knew what her colleagues at the bistro thought of her, what most people did. Jaskier called her strong, beautiful, and confident. It really sucked that it turned out she was none of those things. Alright, she was hot, at least- she still had that, if nothing else was going on in her life anyway.

And now, this. This stupid letter, and stupid Jaskier. Why the hell did he decide to do this just now, what could have happened that made him write Yennefer a freaking letter after literal decades?

Yennefer twisted the paper around in her hand. She should have probably thrown it away to save herself from the mess it probably contained.

Yet, for some reason she couldn’t explain, she decided to open the envelope anyway.

Jaskier was glad he had such great friends like Essi and Priscilla. He’s met them shortly after he permanently moved to the island. Essi was a sweet Omega who was now married with two teenage kids, and Priscilla was a painfully honest Beta who enjoyed her singledom greatly. Without them, Jaskier probably wouldn’t have survived. They always offered him a shoulder to cry on, whenever he needed it. They even formed a band, “The Sandpipers”, though they mostly just played for themselves and sometimes at the inn, and not really in general, lately. Essi and Priscilla felt like sisters to Jaskier, so of course, he turned to them again.

He told them about what Amaryllis said. They listened to him intently, holding his hand all the while. It made Jaskier emotional, which was a common occurrence, lately.

“I hate that Amaryllis is miserable,” Jaskier sighed. “She wants her other parent to walk her down the aisle, like, where did this even come from? And how could I give that to her? I don’t even know…I'm not sure who it is.”

“Hey,” Essi spoke softly, “don’t worry, okay? Maybe she will forget about it.”

“And what if she won’t?”

“Essi’s right,” Priscilla chimed in, “she will have plenty of things to occupy her brain with. She won’t have time to think about this.”

“I love my daughter so much,” Jaskier whispered, staring down at his lap. “I would literally walk through fire for her. But this? I can’t give her this. And I hate that. I don’t want to ruin her wedding.”

“With what, exactly? Not having someone she doesn’t even know there?” Priscilla chuckled. She wrapped an arm around Jaskier and pulled him closer. Jaskier rested his head on her shoulder. “Look, don’t beat yourself up over this. The past is in the past. You were a slut, so what? It doesn’t matter. You’re a great parent to her.”

“The best,” Essi cooed as she ruffled his hair gently. “And Amaryllis knows this, too. Don’t feel guilty. I’m sure Amaryllis is just a little sentimental with her wedding coming up, it makes sense. But it will be all okay. She’s gonna have a beautiful wedding, and the only tears we will see will be tears of joy.”

“You wanna get your acoustic guitar out, sweet cheeks?” Priscilla grinned at Jaskier. “We could fire up The Sandpipers again.”

Jaskier snorted. “You want me to sing about my feelings? I have a better idea. I have a bottle of…”

“It’s better than trying to drink them away,” Priscilla cut him off quickly. “Do you remember your rendezvous with that tequila?”

“You threw up in a bush,” Essi giggled, “and then you apologized…to the bush.”

“Alright, no drinking,” Jaskier chuckled. He squeezed his friends’ hands tightly. “Thanks, girls.”

Essi and Priscilla enveloped him in a tight hug. Jaskier sank into it with a grateful smile. He hoped his friends were right, and that Amaryllis truly wasn’t in anguish over this. That idea was just horrifying. If everything went right, by the time her wedding came, Amaryllis wouldn’t even remember ever bringing this up.

Dear Geralt…

Dear Radovid…

Dear Yennefer…

I hope you still remember me. I’m the Omega you’ve spent time with on the island in the summer of 2002. I know my letter must come as a surprise to you. I need to tell you something, but I can’t write it down. I’d much rather tell you in person. I still live on Thanedd, so you know where to find me. We have to meet up. It’s a matter of life and death!

The ferries come in every hour on Saturdays. Please, be on the one that arrives at 2 in the afternoon. I’ll meet you at the dock. If my letter found you at all, please, be there, this is very important. And pack enough clothes for a few weeks? I feel like we can't get this sorted out in a day, so be prepared for staying a little longer.

With love,

Jaskier

#geraskier #yennskier #radskier #a/b/o #jaskier #geralt of rivia #yennefer of vengerberg #radovid #omega jaskier #alpha geralt #alpha yennefer #beta radovid #the witcher fanfiction #the witcher fic #my fic #mamma mia au

16 notes · View notes

seidenbros · 2 years

Text

Belated Honeymoon

Soooo, this is my first entry for the @witchersummercamp prompts (and a special thanks to @luteandsword who reminded me of this, because being down with covid, I completely forgot about this). It's the first time ever that I'm doing something for an event, so if there's anything wrong, anything needs improvement, just let me know 💚

Prompt: Cabin

Pairing: Geraskier | Geralt/Jaskier (established/married)

Rating: T

Words: 2183

Warnings: fluff, domestic fluff, maaaaybe a little angst if you squint, modern au

Summary: After Jaskier spent the day right after their wedding in the studio all the time Geralt whisks him away to a cabin by the lake, where he can finally take some time off from everything and everyone - and they can spend some time alone. And it seems that Geralt has a little surprise question for his husband as well.

also on AO3

______________________

The warm summer breeze tickled his nose as he stood at the edge of the lake. Jaskier twirled the silver ring around his finger. The newest addition to all the other rings, but still his favourite, because it meant something. After years of dancing around each other, of being friends and supporting each other, they'd finally managed to admit their feeling for each other. He'd seen Geralt get his heart broken, and the other way around. And along the way, Geralt had even become a Dad. Not that it had been in his plans at that time, but Ciri was the best thing that had ever happened to him – Jaskier had to agree.

Geralt had changed after Ciri had been born. He's gotten a lot calmer, hadn't taken everything for granted anymore – especially not Jaskier. After her mother had left Ciri in Geralt's care, he needed all the help he could get, and Jaskier had always been there. It had brought them even closer together, and after waking up in each other's arms, Ciri on top of Geralt's chest, they'd shared their first kiss. For hours they'd talked afterwards, thinking about the pros and cons of getting in a relationship, taking it further than just being friends, but they'd never regretted it.

Two months ago, they'd gotten married, and now, they were finally on their honeymoon in the middle of nowhere. Geralt's choice of course. Ciri was staying with Yennefer, and it was the first time they were spending a week apart from each other. At the end of the week, Ciri would join them, for some family time, but Geralt and Jaskier needed some time to themselves.

It was beautiful out here, no other people around, just the sounds of nature, a house and a lake all to themselves. Jaskier wasn't usually the quiet type, but after some exhausting weeks, that he'd spend mostly in the studio recording his new album, even he needed a break and some peace and quiet. Therefore, he was standing out here without headphones, enjoying the view.

Geralt had left in the early morning to go fishing. He'd woken Jaskier up with kisses to say goodbye to him, but before he'd left, he'd prepared breakfast for his husband, so Jaskier had immediately smiled as soon as he'd walked into the kitchen. There had even been a little note that said: “See you in a bit. Love Geralt” - he'd even drawn a little heart next to his name. And then people said that Jaskier was the cheesy one of them. If only they knew...

His eyes landed on the ring Geralt had given them at their wedding. They hadn't wanted matching wedding bands, but they choose one ring specifically for the other. While Jaskier had gotten Geralt a silver ring with the soundwaves of him singing “I'll love you for eternity”, Geralt had gotten him a simple silver ring with a dandelion engraved on the inside, his nickname for Jaskier. It was the sweetest, most personal thing Jaskier could think of. In addition, his wedding band was completely different from all the other colourful, flashy rings he wore, and he loved it all the more for that.

“Everything alright?”

Jaskier turned around to the low voice, that belonged to no other than Geralt. He'd been so lost in thought that he hadn't even heard him come back. Apparently, he'd already put away the fish he'd caught – Jaskier was sure he'd been successful, since the rod and everything else were gone as well – and was now ready to take a shower.

“Perfect. It's just so peaceful out here.”

“That's why I chose this place.” Geralt walked up to Jaskier, wrapped his arms around him and leaned in for a chaste kiss. “You need some social detoxing.”

“Oh look at you with your fancy words,” Jaskier said with a smirk, stealing another kiss. “But you're right. I haven't even looked at my phone all day. The last time was yesterday evening when we asked Yennefer about Ciri.”

“Good, I'm proud of you. You've been working non-stop ever since the wedding, so you need to not think about work and everything that had to do with it for these two weeks.”

“But-”

“No buts. You need to relax.”

“And you need a shower. You smell like fish!” A laugh followed Jaskier's words, but it turned into a squeal when Geralt picked him up and threw him in the lake. The look on Jaskier's face when he came up for air made Geralt laugh in turn

“I said YOU need a shower, not me!”

“Well, in that case...”

In one swift motion, Geralt stripped off his shirt and jumped after Jaskier into the water. The sun was still high in the sky and it was hot, the days still long, so that they could enjoy some time out here. Now, that they were both in the water, there was no rush to get inside.

Geralt pulled Jaskier back into his arms, brushed the wet hair from his face and smiled down at him.

“Looks like you'll need to take a shower with me then...”

“Do you really think I'd object to that?” Jaskier chuckled, wrapped his arms around Geralt's neck and pulled him in for another kiss, but this time not a chaste one, but one that lingered a little longer, that held the promise of more.

After spending some more time in the lake, they enjoyed their shower together. For dinner, they had fish of course, and Geralt was rather proud of what he'd caught. Hence, cooking was Geralt's task for the evening. Usually, they cooked together, but tonight, he'd sent Jaskier outside with a glass of wine. Most of the time, they were both busy, but the last couple of weeks, Geralt had stayed at home to take care of Ciri while Jaskier had hardly been home at all, so he definitely needed the rest.

Sitting outside on the deck, overlooking the lake in the evening sun calmed his soul, but it also inspired him, gave him some new song ideas. Not today, though, no, he wouldn't pull out his notepad and write something down. He had a couple more days to do that, but tonight was just for the two of them.

“Beautiful,” Geralt said when he places the plates on the table and sat down opposite Jaskier.

“Isn't it? I could sit here for hours and never get tired of it.”

“I wasn't talking about the lake,” Geralt said with a smile before he refilled Jaskier's glass.

“Oh...” Jaskier didn't manage anything more. His cheeks turned pink due to the compliment. Usually, he loved compliments, couldn't get enough of them, but with Geralt... it had always been different. It wasn't some superficial compliment to get what he wanted from Jaskier, he really meant what he said, and that made all the difference.

Over dinner, Geralt told him about his fishing trip, and Jaskier listened with a smile. It was wonderful to hear Geralt talk about something that he enjoyed. He wasn't a man of many words, but sometimes, he went all out, and Jaskier just let him talk. He didn't know a lot about fishing, but he loved listening to Geralt talk, no matter what he was talking about in the end.

After dinner, Geralt didn't let Jaskier help with the dishes, but instead sent him outside to enjoy the last rays of sunshine. At first, Jaskier had tried to protest, but there was no use. So he found himself out on the deck again, glass of wine on hand. Slowly, he walked to the edge, took off his shoes and sat down to let his feet dangle in the water. There was no noise except for the casual splash in the water from a fish or some other animal. A complete contrast to the city, where he was constantly surrounded by noises, not all of them good. The longer he sat there, the more he felt the tension leave his shoulders, and he finally relaxed. He'd already relaxed a little earlier when he'd been by himself, but by now, he was completely at ease and happy with where he was. No noise, no music, no nothing. Just Geralt and him.

Geralt walked slowly towards him and sat down next to him silently, not wanting to disturb this peaceful moment. Jaskier immediately reached for Geralt's hand and interlaced their fingers.

“This was a good idea,” Jaskier eventually broke the silence, a smile on his lips, as he kept looking over the water.

“Mhm... I'm glad you think so.” Geralt turned to press a kiss to Jaskier's temple. He took a deep breath, before he continued. “You know... I never thought I could feel like this, like I'd never seen the sky before...”

Jaskier quickly turned towards him, a look of surprise on his face.

“Are you really quoting Moulin Rouge at me?”

“It's your favourite movie, I thought you might like that.”

“You're full of surprises,” Jaskier said with a love, before he pulled Geralt close to kiss him. He'd pleaded with him so often to watch that movie together, until Geralt had finally given in. His reaction had been a simple hmm and Jaskier hadn't expected anything else from him. But that he was able to quote Jaskier's favourite song from the movie now, made all the butterflies in his stomach turn into a storm again.

“There's something I need to talk to you about, though.” Geralt eventually broke the kiss, but kept Jaskier close. “It's nothing bad. At least I hope so.” So much for not worrying Jaskier. Geralt had tried his best to get Jaskier in a good mood, and he'd succeeded, but he was still nervous about this now.

“Okay... Spit it out, I'm getting anxious!”

Geralt could see it in his face, like he was expecting Geralt to tell him that marrying hadn't been a good idea or that he'd cheated on Jaskier. The truth couldn't be further from that.

“Ciri asked me something and I told her I'd talk to you about it before she gets here.” Geralt took Jaskier's hand in his again, ran his fingers over the wedding band, which was the only ring he'd kept on his fingers after the shower. “She wants you to be her Dad as well. Not just in the way you already are, but legally. Her greatest wish is that you adopt her.”

“She... what?” Jaskier blinked once, twice, and kept staring at Geralt.

“She wants you to become her Dad.” Geralt repeated his words, thinking about if he could make it any clearer somehow, describe it in an easier way, but his words had been pretty clear.

Without a word, though, Jaskier got up and walked back into the cabin, leaving a stunned Geralt behind. He needed a moment, before he got up as well and ran after his husband.

“Jaskier?” Geralt called after him until he found him in the kitchen, his head stuck in the fridge. “Jaskier, talk to me! It's absolutely fine if you don't want to, I'll just need to find a way to tell Ciri then.” His own heart was beating rapidly in his chest. He hadn't wanted to ruin their whole trip with this, but it was something that was important to Ciri and to him as well.

“Jaskier...” He was getting really worried now, and curious about what Jaskier was looking for in the fridge. When Jaskier finally closed the door again and turned to Geralt, there were tears streaming down his face.

“I was just...” he mumbled, holding up the bottle of champagne they'd gotten in their way here.

“Dandelion...” Geralt still wasn't sure what this meant, but his gut was telling him that it was a good sign.

“I couldn't be happier,” Jaskier managed, putting the bottle aside to wipe away the tears. “I want that! I just didn't expect that at all.”

“Come here,” Geralt said with a smile, opening his arms, and Jaskier didn't waste a moment. He threw himself into the arms of his husband and held onto him. Geralt's hands caressed his back, simply held him there for a moment. “So these are tears of joy?”

“Of course they are! I love that kid with all my heart.”

“I know... and she loves you as well. That's why she wants this so badly. She absolutely adores you.”

Geralt's words managed to make Jaskier sob and shed even more tears. When they'd become a couple, Jaskier had never really expected them to get married, always thinking that something would go wrong along the line, but they'd managed. There had been bad times, but they hadn't abandoned each other and had instead managed these situations together, had become a family. Gods, he couldn't wait to tell Ciri his answer once she got here.

#WitcherSummerCamp #the witcher #geraskier #the witcher netflix #geralt x jaskier #witcher summer camp #geralt of rivia #jaskier #staffi writes #modern au #established geraskier #they're just too soft I swear

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kingeomer · 2 years

Text

Now You’re In The World

Geralt/Jaskier / rated teen / 1,849 words / ao3.

inspired by this tweet, which grabbed ahold of me right after christmas and wouldn’t let go until i wrote some new years fluff. i’m super proud of this one, i’m not gonna lie.

“Merry Christmas from the Pankratz family! Julian couldn’t join us this year so it’s just the two of us again, and the dog, of course. May your holiday be filled with the warmth of your loved ones by your side! — Alf and Jules xx”

The picture on Jaskier’s Facebook feed had caught his attention first; his mum and dad sat by the fireplace back at Lettenhove Hall, logs burning in the hearth. The family dog was at their feet, and hanging from the festively trimmed mantelpiece were three red stockings, each with a name embroidered in white thread below the fluffy white trim.

Julia, Alfred, and Jasper.

They could’ve at least pretended there was a place for their son in the family home by hanging a stocking for him.

Geralt lifted his head when he heard a weary sigh from the other side of the room, looking away from the lunch he’d been preparing to where his boyfriend sat at the kitchen counter, phone in hand as his coffee sat neglected.

“What is it now?” he asked, wiping his hands on a tea towel as he padded across the kitchen, leaning against the counter across from the musician.

Jaskier let out another sigh, putting down his phone to slide it across the surface to Geralt, showing him his mother’s oh so perfect Christmas morning without her failure of a son present to ruin things.

“Ah,” Geralt responded, swiping up on the screen to close the cursed app for Jaskier, saving him from looking at the offending picture and caption much longer.

“It’s fine,” Jaskier said, aiming for noncommittal but knowing he’d missed the mark by miles. Geralt sighed quietly, moving around the counter to wrap an arm around his boyfriend, holding him close and kissing the warm spot behind his ear that always made the brunet shudder.

“It is fine, because we’re gonna have a great holiday,” Geralt told him firmly, his large palm resting against Jaskier’s chest pressing against him, right over his steadily beating heart. Jaskier grinned to himself then, turning slightly on the stool to look up at the love of his life fondly.

“We are, aren’t we?” He leaned up for a kiss then, capturing warm, plush lips with his own and shuddering as strong arms enveloped him, Geralt stepping closer into the gap between his thighs and crowding him against the counter as his tongue slipped past Jaskier’s lips.

Yeah, they’d have a fine holiday without the judgement of the Pankratzes, thank you.

——————————

A week feels like no time at all when you’re having the time of your life.

Geralt and Jaskier were at Geralt’s family home just like every year, in the company of his two dads and his three brothers, ex wife and her new wife and their adopted daughter. Lambert had brought a guest this time, a “friend from work” called Aiden. Jaskier immediately bonded with the other outsider, welcoming him into the fold alongside himself and Triss.

Geralt, as the eldest of the brood, would pretend like he was somehow above his two younger brothers and their shenanigans. Jaskier knew better, having seen -year after year- endless drinking games, dick punches, unplanned wrestling matches, and various other stupid feats of physical endurance that usually ended with Jaskier kissing Geralt’s bruises and rubbing his aching joints on an evening. He’d had no doubts that this year would be much of the same.

The week between the two holidays was spent eating too much good food, like always. Eskel and Ciri had spent hours in the kitchen, and having roped in Aiden this year, there were cakes, fresh bread, and elaborate meals aplenty. There’d been too many drinks, too, with Jaskier curled up in Geralt’s lap, drinking a glass of wine which kept mysteriously being topped up while Geralt sipped at a glass of scotch.

When New Year’s Eve did roll around, Jaskier couldn’t help but feel a little miserable. Another year unwanted, he found himself thinking as he scrolled Facebook again, speeding past bullshit updates from his family, not caring to see their annual ball, the pretentious bullshit, and some horribly passive comments about Julian not being present.

He was torn out of his thoughts by Ciri, the preteen throwing spindly arms around his waist and beaming up at him with the full power of the sun. God, he loved this family. He ruffled his as-good-as stepdaughter’s hair before he wrapped his arms around her, hoisting her up the couple of inches he could manage and making her shriek with laughter.

He would not let his parents ruin his time, he wouldn’t.

Later, with the party in full swing and a few too many glasses of what Vesemir had dubbed White Gull, a horrifyingly strong mix of just about every bottle in his liquor cabinet that the Rivias all swore blindly was a punch, Jaskier was content. Content, but… Well. He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of regret, like he was missing something by not being at that stupid snooty fucking ball.

“What’s up?” A voice pulled him out of his thoughts as Lambert flopped down next to him, his red curls bouncing. Jaskier sighed, looking down at the empty glass in his hands before glancing up at his friend, a surprising amount of sincerity in the man’s eyes.

“‘S just this time of year,” he answered with a tiny shrug, biting his lip nervously. Lambert nodded at his side, and Jaskier almost jumped when a large hand landed on his knee, patting him gently, comfortingly.

“Family can fucking suck, mate. Especially the Pankratzes.” Lambert’s voice had a definite teasing lilt to it, and a quick glance at the redhead’s face revealed a playful smirk. Jaskier huffed a laugh in response, aiming his elbow for Lambert’s ribs and laughing harder when he made contact, knocking a winded sound from him.

“I’m a Pankratz, numb nuts!” But Jaskier was still laughing, a warm feeling bubbling through him. He hadn’t ever really felt a sense of family, not since he was a kid, but here with Geralt and his ridiculous family, he felt like he had somewhere he could belong.

“Whatever you say…” Lambert responded, bumping his shoulder into Jaskier’s with a little smirk before he got to his feet again. He reached a hand out and ruffled the brunet’s hair, cackling and walking away as his hand was slapped, Jaskier smiling to himself as he tried to straighten it back out.

The night went on as expected, with Ciri on a sugar high charging round the house and Eskel holding an ice pack to a bruise blooming on his jawbone after a stray hit from one of his brothers. Jaskier had lost track of Geralt at some point, but he’d popped back up at around eleven thirty, an arm wrapped around his boyfriend’s narrow waist and chin resting on his shoulder.

“Come here often, handsome?” Geralt joked, the smile on his face audible. Jaskier laughed brightly, patting Geralt’s hand with his own and turning his head to kiss him sweetly, lips lingering for a moment. The two men stayed like that for a long moment, swaying slightly to music.

“Hey,” Geralt’s voice was soft, close enough to Jaskier’s ears to make him shiver, and his arm tightened around the brunet’s narrow waist briefly. Jaskier hummed in response, inhaling his boyfriend’s warm scent before blinking blue eyes open slowly. He hummed in response, frowning softly when Geralt’s arm dropped away only to snatch up his hand, tugging to pull Jaskier around to face him.

“What is it, love?” Jaskier asked, a slight uneasy feeling bubbling up in his stomach. He watched as Geralt swallowed and licked his lips, honey warm eyes flickering from Jaskier’s eyes to his lips, down to their joined hands and back up again. He let out a huffed breath before chuckling to himself, a sure sign to Jaskier that he was nervous.

“I uh. I’ve been doing some thinking…” the silver-haired man started, giving Jaskier’s hands a soft squeeze as he bit down on his lower lip, tongue flicking out to wet plush pink lips before he continued. “About family, and what it means. Who family are.”

Jaskier nodded, confusion no doubt writ across his face, but he smiled all the same, encouraging Geralt to continue. He wasn’t always the best with his words, so he’d tread as carefully as he could.

“You’re family, Jaskier. My family.” Oh. Jaskier nodded softly, his eyes prickling with tears he would not shed. He watched Geralt inhale deeply before he spoke again, the bigger man’s eyes uncharacteristically wet.

“Julian Rivia has a nice ring to it, right?” Geralt was clearly aiming for casual, but the slight waver in his voice gave away his nerves.

Jaskier was stunned. Was Geralt saying what he thought he was?

“Marry me, Jask.”

Jaskier couldn’t speak. The world seemed to narrow down to just the two of them, the feeling of Geralt’s large hands holding his, the warmth of his breath on Jaskier’s skin as he waited for a response, bottom lip pulled between his teeth to worry at the thin skin.

He nodded first, his mouth hanging open slightly. As Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s hands back, though, he found his voice.

“Yes! Yes, of course!” Jaskier could feel his eyes prickling with tears as he let go of his boyfriend’s— no, his fiancé’s hands so he could throw his arms around his neck, clinging onto the other man like his life depended on it. Face buried in Geralt’s neck, Jaskier didn’t notice when the whole of his— their family turned their eyes on them, but the loud cheer from Coen was impossible to ignore.

Lifting his head with a wet laugh, Jaskier wiped the tears from his eyes before leaning up to capture Geralt’s lips with his own for a deep kiss, tongue teasing at the spot Geralt had kept biting down on before sweeping into his fiancé’s mouth. A wolf whistle had them both laughing, Geralt resting his forehead against his as he smiled.

“He said yes!” Geralt called over his shoulder to another round of cheers. The wind was suddenly knocked out of Geralt from behind as Ciri barrelled into her dad, clinging to him excitedly. She was followed by Vesemir and Filavandrel , the two men smiling proudly.

“Welcome to the family, son.” Vesemir’s voice was a warm, rumbling thing, his eyes and his smile kind and inviting. A large hand clapped Jaskier’s shoulder before he was wrapped up in the old man’s arms, and truly, Jaskier had never felt more like he belonged.

The sound of fireworks outside interrupted them, Vesemir letting go of Jaskier with a fond smile and stepping away, taking his own husband’s hand and leading their family to the open patio doors.

“Happy New Year, Geralt,” Jaskier’s voice was slightly shaky still, too many emotions running through him. Geralt didn’t seem to mind, though, instead giving the brunet another soft kiss, large hands stroking down his back to his waist, holding him close as fireworks lit up the sky.

tagging @jaskierswolf, @kueble, @thepassifloradiscord on request :3

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #fanfiction #fluff #manda writes

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spielzeugkaiser · 2 years

Text

Baby!Ciri and her dads! It's still, literally, the tired dads 'verse.

#baby!ciri #Jaskier is off to play at some taverns and Ciri has to look out for her dad - I always had the impression that coin was already short #even with regular geraskier and traveling expenses and stuff for a baby? that's not cheap #geraskier #jaskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher #geralt x jaskier #I'm on a fluff run y'all - and we all know what that means :)#that's me polishing my emotional baseball bat

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geraskierficrecs · 3 years

Text

Modern AU Stories

when midnights break their sleep by SummerFrost

The first Snapchat that anyone ever sends Geralt is a picture of his own irritated face.

shrike_princess: can u believe this dumbass finally got a snapchat bc a cute boy asked him nicely

"It wasn't even that nicely," Geralt says flatly.

AKA: The one where Geralt is a bartender and Jaskier sings karaoke.

(This is one of my favorite stories in the fandom. I love it so much!!)

Give Me Nothing, Give Me You by dis

Ciri's kindergarten letter comes in the mail on a Tuesday. Geralt opens it, skims it, and frowns at the class his daughter has been assigned.

Dandelions.

Or: A modern AU with Dad!Geralt and Teacher!Jaskier.

Chopsticks by thisgirlsays22

“Yennefer sent me a check for eight lessons for you,” Jaskier said the following weekend, wearing a beige button-down with--

“Does your shirt have owls on it?” Geralt asked, caught somewhere between amusement and horror.

Jaskier looked down and tugged on the front of his shirt as if he had to remind himself what was on it. He beamed at Geralt. “Yeah! Do you like it?”

“Not particularly.”

The smile swiftly disappeared.

“It’s not terrible,” he amended, stepping back to let Jaskier inside the apartment. Then Jaskier’s initial words sank in. “Wait. Yen did what?”

Hanging up on Yennefer was always a mistake.

New Monster Stories by kathkin

“So do you have a name?”

“Yeah.” The man who had saved his life less than an hour ago – the white-haired, absurdly buff, weirdly sexy man Jaskier might have called taciturn if he was feeling charitable and surly if he was feeling less so – dug into his second burger.

Jaskier waited. “Are… you going to tell me what it is?”

The man paused mid-bite, and looked at him reproachfully as if to say how dare you. How dare you interrupt me. Can’t you see I’m enjoying my cheeseburger. Can’t you see this cheeseburger is the most important thing in my life right at the moment. He swallowed, and said, “Geralt.”

It turns out almost getting eaten by a werewolf can make your whole life go careening off in a new, terrifying, wondrous, artistically flourishing direction. Who knew?

Where There’s a Witcher by ghostinthelibrary

Jaskier is a twentysomething recently unemployed journalist and amateur musician looking for his big break. So when he’s saved from the jaws of a wyvern by the infamous Butcher of Blaviken, Geralt of Rivia, he comes up with a brilliant idea: he’ll follow the Witcher around and sing about their exploits. He’ll gain fame and fortune and Geralt will get a much needed image rehab. Everyone wins. Unless Jaskier goes and falls in love like an idiot.

Only Human Series by ghostintxelibrary

It’s a Tuesday, so someone is threatening to kill Jaskier.

Geralt doesn’t know why he’s surprised anymore.

Geralt moonlights as a superpowered vigilante called the Witcher, but his cover identity is the mild-mannered Geralt Rivia, reporter at The Continental Press. Jaskier is an entertainment writer at the Press and Geralt’s ex-boyfriend. He's obsessed with the Witcher, the vigilante who has saved his life multiple times. When Geralt is blackmailed by a powerful sorcerer into pursuing the Shrike, a serial killer who’s been targeting abusive men, Jaskier gets involved, despite Geralt’s best efforts.

(Seriously, all of her stuff is amazing. Read it all.)

Thieves and Riches

Geralt is just trying to do a favor for an old friend when he finds himself tied up and shoved into a storage closet by a group of robbers. There he meets Jaskier, an enigmatic cat burglar who is a little too good at teasing a reaction of the normally stoic detective.

I’ll Never Be Free From Your Smile by whisperedstory

Geralt isn't sure how he got here, standing in his kitchen in black gym shorts and a baby pink—baby fucking pink—shirt that stretches too tightly over his muscles and has Toss a Coin written in sparkling gold letters across his chest while Jaskier is aiming a camera at his face.

Or: Jaskier is a YouTuber and Geralt is his best friend and roommate.

Next to You by Bean_Writes

Moving to a new town is one thing. Moving to a new town, becoming best friends with his neighbor and falling head over heels for her dad is something entirely different.

In his second year of college, Jaskier struggles with his undying crush on Geralt, Ciri's dad. It also doesn't help that the man's job involves him looking like an absolute wet dream come true, emerging from beneath a car, muscles flexing, slick with sweat and grease.

He's really fucked.

The Tale of Jaskier's Grudge Against Historians (and how they gave him his happy ending anyway) by notebooksandlaptops

[Text Sent From Ciri] Is there a reason why a love letter to Yen and Geralt is in the British Museum signed from you?? -C

[Text Sent to Ciri] Because Historians are nosey pricks. Do NOT tell your parents. -J

[Text Sent From Ciri] ;) – C

The winking face of a semicolon and a bracket stared up at him, composed of unforgiving pixels. She wouldn’t, would she? No. No. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t.

She wouldn’t.

-///-

Or, an exploration of the reason (immortal) Jaskier hates historians (hint: it's because they keep stealing his shit and putting it on display)

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samstree · 3 years

Note

25. "prove it" for the banter prompt list? I love ur writing jin!!

Ahh thank you so much for the prompt!! And thank you for the kind words! <3333 Here’s Geralt being a tired dad, some cheeky Jaskier and our sassy girl Ciri! ;))

(established geraskier, fluff, sparring, kaer morhen, 880 words)

---

“I can take you.”

“No, you can’t.”

“Prove it.”

“Jaskier.”

Geralt watches in amusement as the bard gets up from the bench and takes Ciri’s place, cracking his knuckles as if it’ll make him look more impressive. The girl lets out an exhausted sigh, glad to finally take a break from training but equally enthused for the drama that follows.

“Get him, uncle Jask!” She sounds way too eager, now sitting at the bench next to the lute.

“Why are you on his side?” Geralt frowns at Ciri, slightly hurt.

“No, I’m always on your side, Geralt,” she tilts her head sweetly. “But I also really want to see a bard kick your ass.”

“Your wish is my command, princess.” Jaskier bows before picking out a dagger.

“You are getting better with a dagger, Jaskier, but you’re no match for me.”

“Didn’t you tell your daughter that she can beat anyone as long as she puts her brains into it? Exploit their weakness? After all, everyone has them.” The bard rolls up his sleeves and readies his stance. “Watch and learn.” He winks at Ciri.

“Weakness or not, it’s not even a fair fight.” Geralt takes up his training sword regardless. There’s no harm in humoring the two of them.

“There’s no fairness in the real world. You taught her that too.” Jaskier smiles before attacking.

The bard is getting better. His strikes are powerful and true, mostly aiming at a particular side, but the witcher blocks with ease.

“My bad knee won’t be weakness enough, bard.” Geralt flicks his wrist, landing a hit on Jaskier’s ribs. He lets out an offended cry.

With an exasperated huff, the bard changes tactics. Now his footwork is speeding up, taking advantage of his nimble movements and smaller size. It’s almost enough to find a window in Geralt’s tight defense. The girl can indeed learn something here.

Impressive.

“Take that, old man!” Ciri shouts out a cheer for Jaskier.

The witcher rolls his eyes and wards off another quick strike. The blunt of his sword hits the bard heavily on his bicep. It’ll definitely leave a bruise.

Jaskier shakes it off almost impatiently. He’s getting tired and sloppy.

“Yield now, Jask.”

“What, scared?” The bard heaves out a breath before charging directly at Geralt, using his full body weight. It’s a stupid move against someone a lot heavier. On the bench, Ciri physically flinches, knowing what will happen, because it takes very little effort to direct the momentum the other way and let Jaskier fall on his own. The dagger flies across the courtyard.

But the bard lands heavily on his side and lets out a pained gasp. His entire body goes stiff, curled into his right side.

Geralt stares as Jaskier’s breaths hitch and shudder, before moving towards him. “Shit, Jask. Are you hurt?”

He kneels next to the bard in a hurry. When Jaskier looks up, his expression is full of pain, his brows knitted tightly. Until he sees Geralt’s worry closely. Suddenly, his face relaxes completely and breaks into a cheeky grin.

“What…”

In an instant, Jaskier has rolled on top of Geralt and pinned him to the ground, the unexpected force knocking the breath out of him. Cold metal presses against his neck—the training sword he put down in a hurry when checking on Jaskier’s ‘injury’.

“Yield,” the bard demands. His cornflower blue sparkles smugly.

“You bastard.”

“There’s no fairness in the real world. It’s an important lesson, Geralt.” Jaskier presses the blunt weapon harder. “Now yield!”

“I yield.” Geralt stares as the bard throws the sword away with a clink.

“Come on now. Let’s get you off the ground.” The bard climbs off the witcher before pulling him up as well. He continues to beat the dust off Geralt’s shirt, grinning like a fool. “Oh, don’t be a grump! Wasn’t that fun?”

Winning does not seem to be good for the bard’s ego. Geralt shakes his head in exasperation.

Although Ciri has come to hug Jaskier in celebration and giggling freely. It’s hard to be mad at the bard when he makes the girl so happy, even with a silly stunt like this.

“You took that loss with grace, Geralt,” she teases, her cheeks flushed with excitement.

“Hmm,” he admits defeat. “It was smart.”

“Your weakness, Geralt. Didn’t expect that, did you?” Jaskier raises an eyebrow, letting Ciri walk off to prepare for the next round of training.

“I still don’t see the point of this. You know you can never pull this off again?”

“True,” Jaskier says as he watches Ciri put away the weapons on the other side of the courtyard, his voice lowered. “But your daughter is no longer grumbling about how hard you’re working her.”

Geralt blinks. The girl is walking with a little skip, her earlier weariness completely replaced with a chirpy smile.

“Carrot and stick. Another lesson.” Jaskier kisses Geralt on the cheek adoringly, before returning to his lute.

As his daughter comes back to the training ground revigorated, Geralt sends his bard a soft look. Cornflower blue meets him in understanding. After so many years, Jaskier has long since learned to discern the gratitude he never vocalizes.

He chuckles to himself.

Maybe losing to a bard is not that bad.

#he definitely should have seen that coming #like from a mile away #geraskier #geraskier fic #prompt fill #geralt x jaskier #sassy ciri #tired dad geralt #the bard is cheeky #geralt of rivia #jaskier #fluff

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comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Note

Hi Comfy! 💜 Could you write some Tired Dad™ Jaskier, please? Ciri has been really difficult all day, crying because she misses her other daddy. Geralt made a business trip 3 days ago and will only be back at night.

Nonie i love this. I really hope i did your idea justice. I threw in as much fluff as I could!

just for clarification, ciri calls Jask “Fafa” and Geralt “Papa”, also I'm going with her being like 4? so only having a light grasp on language?

Warnings: none unless you don’t like specific dad nicknames? crying toddlers?

____________________

Three days.

It's not that long. It's not a big deal. Jaskier wasn't even worried about the logistics of Geralt being gone (other than Ciri being a morning baby), he was worried about missing his husband. So worried, in fact, that he forgot until night #1 that Ciri was going to miss him too.

"Where's Papa?" She asked, holding one of her feet close to her face to examine the bruised toenail from when she dropped the birdbath on it last week.

Jaskier gently tugged her leg back down so he could tuck her in, "He's working, cub. He went to help Uncle Skel."

Her little brow furrowed just like Geralt's did when he was thinking. They were so much alike you'd think they'd used Geralt's sperm for the fertilization. How she got bright blonde hair and green eyes with Jaskier's DNA was a mystery, they were pretty sure the egg donor they chose had brown eyes too, but either way she was cute as could be. The one thing she absolutely got from Jaskier was how much she loved Geralt.

"Papa will be home late?"

Jaskier brushed the hair off of her forehead as he sat next to her on her brand new big girl bed, "Really late. He'll be gone two more nights."

"But where will he sleep?!"

"At Uncle Skel's house," Jaskier laughed.

Ciri didn't think it was funny in the slightest, "But people sleep at home!"

It was a good half hour before she accepted that, yes, Papa would sleep okay somewhere else, and no, that doesn't mean it's his home now. It was another half hour before Jaskier heard little snores coming from her room and could finally relax. Not that he slept much. The bed was cold and the constant reminder that he was gone just made him worry over his husband.

Geralt called them early the next morning and Ciri was ecstatic, holding the phone up close to her face and cradling it reverently. She prattled on about a dream she had and nearly choked on her oatmeal because simply wouldn't stop talking. When Geralt finally said he had to go, she dragged out the 'i love you's and 'see you soon's as long as she could.

As soon as Jaskier stuffed his phone in his pocket and turned to grab a paper towel, the toddler was in tears.

She wailed as Jaskier pulled her out of her booster seat and cradled her to his shoulder, bouncing back and forth like he did when she was still bottle feeding, "I know Cub, I know. He'll be back soon. It's okay."

"I want Papa!" She shrieked and cried some more, burying her face in Jaskier's sweater.

"I know, darling. I miss him too." Jaskier tried not to be hurt by her little tirade, she was only four, she didn't mean anything by it, but it still stung.

The days passed in a coffee-fueled blur, Jaskier doing his best to distract Ciri and avoid complete meltdowns. They went to the park, went for a ride on Roach (and even gave her a bath), went for bike rides, saw a movie, did two parent/child painting classes, and even baked a cake from scratch to fill the time. Jaskier thought he might fall asleep walking.

On the third night, Ciri crept into their room just as he was about to fall asleep, “Fafa?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m-” she was cut off by a yawn, “I’m not sleepy.”

Jaskier propped himself up on an elbow, “Do you want snuggles?”

She nodded and wiped at her nose. He pulled back the blankets and she scrambled onto the bed and up against his side, flinging one of her lanky little arms over his chest. He tucked her under his arm and made sure they were both pleasantly cocooned in the comforter.

“Fafa?”

He resisted the urge to sigh, just wanting to drift off to sleep, “Yes, Ciri?”

“Do you miss Papa too?”

He looked down at her and frowned, “Of course I do, darling. I miss him even when he’s gone on a regular workday.”

She snuggled in closer and wrapped her little fist around his sleepshirt, “Why don’t you cry?”

He kissed the top of her head, “I don’t want to worry you, love. And I know he’s coming back.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

That’s how Geralt found them, snuggled up and both snoring softly as the morning light filtered through the curtains.

He quietly set his luggage down and shrugged off his jacket before slipping into bed on Ciri’s side and pulling them both close. It was a few minutes still before either of them stirred, and even when Jaskier sleepily carded his fingers through Geralt’s hair he didn’t seem to notice till a few seconds later.

A sweet smile spread across his face, still keeping his eyes closed, “You’re back.”

Geralt leaned over to kiss him, doing his best not to squish Ciri, “Did you miss me?”

“Immensely,” Jaskier sighed, going back to playing with Geralt’s hair, still not opening his eyes.

Their talking woke Ciri and before Geralt even had the chance to say ‘hello’ she was squealing and clinging to his neck for dear life.

Geralt laughed and Jaskier just rolled his eyes fondly. “Hope you’re not tired, love.”

Geralt peeled Ciri off him to set her on his chest, “Good morning, princess. What do you want for breakfast?”

She bounced, punching the air out of Geralt’s lungs as she answered, “Pancakes!”

“Pancakes it is,” he roared, hoisting her above his head and rolling to sit up on the edge of the bed. He glanced back at Jaskier, “Coming, Fafa?”

Jask snuggled deeper under the blankets, “Call me when the coffee’s ready.”

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deeplywornletters · 3 years

Text

pancakes for dinner

Wrote this for a 24h-flash-challenge being hosted on @thewitcherbog

Just some tooth-rotting domestic fluff with Dad!Geralt and Ciri, enjoy <3

You can also read it on AO3!

„Papa, how did you and Dad meet?“

Geralt puts down the book he is currently reading and looks at the small girl standing before him, blonde curly hair put into two small pigtails on either side of her head, dressed in green dungarees and a soft yellow sweater.

“Why do you want to know, love?” he asks her as he reaches down to pull her into his lap, giving her a small kiss on the cheek and tickling her with his stubble, resulting in a small squeal.

“Mrs. Vennerberg asked us today in school and all the other children knew but me!” She puts her lips into an angry pout, crossing her arms before her little body, a frown on her face.

‘Absolutely adorable,’ Geralt thinks to himself, before he answers: “Well, Ciri, you never asked!” a slight tease in his voice.

Ciri buries her head in the nook between Geralt’s ear and shoulder and mumbles something that is most likely supposed to mean: “I am now.”

Gently, he retrieves her from where she’s more or less successfully tried to hide and puts a hand under her chin, gently forcing her to look at him.

“Were you embarrassed that you were the only one who didn’t know?”

That question seems to hit the nail on the head as Ciri once more smushes her face into Geralt, her pigtails tickling his nose.

As cute as she looks, buried into his chest, Geralt knows that an embarrassed Ciri can very quickly turn into an angry, crying one, and so he comes up with a plan.

“How about,” he says as he pulls her into his arms, getting up from the sofa, “I make us some hot chocolate and I will tell you how your dad and I met.” His question is answered with sparkling blue eyes and a toothy grin, and so they make their way to the kitchen, Geralt gently putting her down to sit on the counter.

“Don’t tell your father I let you do this!” he warns her, lifting a warning finger, but Ciri only sticks out her tongue at him and dangles her legs off the edge.

He turns to pull two mugs out of the cupboard behind him – one in the shape of a blue dinosaur, his neck functioning as the handle, the other a plain white one with only the word “D.I.L.F.” written on it (Geralt thanks the Gods that Ciri still hasn’t learned to read every time he uses it) – before retrieving the box of cocoa powder from a drawer next to him, putting two spoonfuls of it in each mug, as well as a sugar cube.

Ciri watches him put a small saucepan on the stove and filling it with milk, adding a dash of cinnamon and flicking on the gas.

“So,” Geralt begins as he’s stirring the pot to make sure the milk heats evenly, “your Dad and I met around 10 years ago.”

He has barely finished this sentence when he’s interrupted by Ciri asking: “10 years? I wasn’t even born yet, that was ages ago!”

‘Way to make me feel old, kid,’ Geralt thinks, but he knows that Ciri means no harm, still too young to really grasp the meaning of time.

He doesn’t further acknowledge her comment and instead continues the story: “So as I said, we met 10 years ago. I had just moved here and didn’t know anybody and was overall just feeling a bit lonely.”

The milk is starting to bubble, and Geralt turns off the stove keep it from boiling all over the place, pouring it equally into the two mugs perched on the counter. He gives the mixture a good stir, making sure that there were no lumps left, and, when he feels satisfied with how it looks, hands Ciri her dinosaur-mug.

“Thanks, dad!” she says, blowing raspberries to cool down her hot chocolate, making Geralt laugh in the process.

“You have to leave your lips slightly open for that to work, love,” he advises her before he sits down next to her on the counter, his feet dangling alongside Ciri’s.

“Anyway, one day I was grocery shopping because I wanted to make pancakes and had run out of flour. So I grabbed the flour package and wanted to put it in my basket, but some idiot had apparently decided to open it and just put it back into the shelve afterwards, which led to me dumbing all of it over me and the person who happened to walk past behind me.”

Ciri gasps, a small moustache of cocoa on her upper lip, seemingly listening with all the attention she can muster.

“I turn around to apologize to that poor bastard, and well…” he trails off, waiting for Ciri to work out the rest on her own.

“That was dad?” she squeals, her voice shrill and full of childish glee. She looks so proud of herself for figuring it out, Geralt feels like he is about to melt.

He wishes that she would always stay this small, even though he knows that it’s pointless, the past 6 years with Ciri in their lives having already flown by in the blink of an eye.

“That was dad, yes. You know how he loves to wear expensive clothes, right?” Ciri nods in response, taking another sip from her mug.

“Well, he was wearing his favourite pair of very expensive jeans that day, and he made sure to tell me that.” He laughs at the memory of that, still seeing Jaskier standing there in the grocery store aisle, his pants covered in flour from top to bottom. He can see it like it was yesterday, although the Jaskier who wakes up next to him every day now has a few more wrinkles around his eyes, and even though his face is a bit rounder and his stomach a bit softer, to Geralt he still looks as stunning as he did back then.

“And so to make up for it, I said that I would pay for the drycleaner and invited him over for pancakes, because that was the reason I was even buying flour in the first place.”

“Did you tell him you love him then?” Ciri looks at him with such an innocent look in her face as she asks him that, head cocked slightly to the side, clearly not yet understanding the weight of such a confession.

Geralt takes a mouthful of hot cocoa and smiles.

“No, that actually took quite a long time because your dad and I were stupid.”

‘Can’t believe everyone else knew we were dating before we did,’ he thinks back, remembering all the dinners and movie nights they had before a friend had pointed out that maybe, maybe there be a bit more than friendship going on between them. Looking back, the constant flirting and touching (a hug here, an evening spent on the couch cuddling there) may have been an indicator.

“Hm.”

Ciri, having finished her hot chocolate, hands Geralt her mug and jumps off the counter, landing on the floor with a soft thud and nearly falling over in the process.

Geralt is curios what she’s thinking, and he asks: “So, are you satisfied with my answer?”

Seemingly content, his daughter looks at him and says: “Yes”

Feeling relieved, Geralt scoops her up into his arms once more, giving her a peck on the forehead.

“Wanna have pancakes for dinner?”

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geralt x jaskier #geraskier #geraskier fanfiction #dad!geralt #domestic fluff #married life #fluff #my writing

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