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#dandelion fic
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Keeping You Warm
Pairing: Jaskier x reader
Summary: Sad bard turns up soaking on reader's doorstep during a storm, so they offer to give him a bath to warm him up. Comfort and cute bath fluff ensues
Warnings: fluff, fluff, fluff! Nothing explicit but it does get a bit steamy... Maybe a little angst but not really.
Words: 2159
A/N: I wrote this ages ago but forgot to post it. Hope you enjoy!
He was the last person you'd expected to see tonight, especially not looking like this. Dripping wet, brown fringe plastered onto his delicate face, soft blue eyes staring sadly down at you. He shivered, numb fingers trying in vain to hold his soaked doublet closed across his chest, which was heaving with ragged breaths of exhaled steam.
Behind him, rain mercilessly tore up the muddy ground, the light from the lantern by the front door casting odd shadows on the shimmering ground.
A puddle formed on your doorstep as you stared in disbelief at your old friend.
"Jaskier? What are you doing here?"
He attempted a smile, opening his mouth to respond, but was suddenly overtaken by a coughing fit, doubling over. You rushed forward, reaching for his shoulder and guiding him inside, pulling the door shut behind you.
"S-sorry..." he muttered shakily. He managed a smile as his eyes met yours. "It's good to see you."
You beamed back at him.
"It's good to see you too, Jask." You threw your arms around him, squeezing him tightly as he wrapped his own arms around you, firm hands pressing into your back. You relaxed in his embrace, smiling into his shoulder. He really was soaked, and the brush of his fingers through your shirt felt like ice. You finally pulled back.
"What the hell were you thinking, being out in that storm? You could have frozen to death!"
"Yeah, I know. I just... Needed to see you. And my weather forecasting skills are unfortunately lacking."
You sighed. "Well, at least you're here now. Come on, let's get you warmed up."
You pressed a kiss to his cheek, the warm touch of your lips making him blush slightly, obvious against his cold, paled skin, and led him by the hand towards your crackling fireplace.
"We'll get you out of those wet clothes, and then run you a bath," you said, looking him up and down to determine which of your garments would best fit him.
"So keen to get me undressed?" he smirked. You punched his arm.
"Don't flatter yourself," you winked.
"You'll freeze to death if you stay in those soaked clothes."
You turned to leave the room, but Jaskier quickly reached out and took your hand in his own, pulling you back and staring deep into your eyes.
"Thank you," he said, rubbing his thumb absentmindedly against your fingers, traces of playfulness wiped from his face, replaced with a genuine appreciation for your actions.
You swallowed.
"You're welcome, dear heart," you whispered.
***
You returned with a blanket just as Jaskier was pulling off his shirt. His doublet was neatly folded over the back of a chair by the fire, and his boots lay discarded on the floor. You approached the shirtless bard, eyeing his exposed form. He was still quite skinny and slender, skin soft and chest covered in a thick coat of dark hair, but he appeared fitter now, more muscular.
"Here. Wear this until the bath is ready," you smiled encouragingly, moving towards him with the large blanket outstretched and indicating a chair nearby. He sat, and you leaned in to wrap the blanket around his still shivering form, feeling his warm breath on your face as you pulled it over his bare shoulders. He wriggled cutely in the chair, getting comfy, his movements prompting you to giggle.
"What is it?" he asked, oblivious to the effect he had on you. In response you simply leaned closer to him, resting your forehead against his. You both closed your eyes, and he sighed at your touch.
"I've missed you so much, Jask," you whispered, bringing a hand up to cup his cheek.
"I didn't realise how much I needed you in my life until you left," you admitted.
"Don't worry, love. I'm not going anywhere," he said, voice a low rumble. You made the mistake of opening your eyes, and were met with an intense electric blue gaze, which was locked on your own. Your eyes flicked down to his party open lips, tantalisingly close, and suddenly you kissed him, quickly, strongly and filled with longing.
Then you came to your senses - you'd just kissed your best friend. The two of you had always been close, but this was something different.
"Oh. Oh god, Jaskier, I'm so sorry, I don't know what I-"
He silenced you with a passionate kiss of his own, letting the blanket fall away as he pulled you closer with an arm around your waist and a hand on the back of your head. He moaned into your lips, eventually pulling away.
"You've got no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he smiled, brushing his fingers along your cheek.
"Me too," you whispered, pulling him closer, warm lips back on your own.
***
Jaskier sank beneath the steaming water, groaning with relief as the weight was taken off his aching muscles. He sank down lower beneath the bubbles, closing his eyes and sighing.
"Just how long were you riding to get here, Jask?" you asked, turned away from him as you gathered a collection of soaps and scents from around the room.
"Oh, I don't know. A week? Two weeks? Don't worry about it."
You spun around, brow creased with concern.
"Don't worry? You were alone, without protection, on the road for two weeks. For what? To see me? I'm not worth the risk, Jask. You should have waited for Geralt."
"He was... busy, and like I said, I needed to see you - and you are absolutely worth the risk, dear heart." He did his best to look sweet, pouting and staring right at you with his intoxicating blue eyes. It worked.
You shook your head, unable to mask your smile as you moved over to the bath, setting the soaps down on a nearby table. You smeared shampoo onto your hands and moved closer to the bard.
"What- what are you doing?"
He pulled back as you reached towards him.
"What do you think I'm doing? I'm washing your hair."
He glanced uncertainly at you, swallowing nervously.
"It's alright, really. Don't worry about me, I'll be fine. Just go take care of yourself. Besides, the greasy look rather suits me, don't you thi-"
You swiftly leaned in, kissing him gently.
"I knew that would shut you up," you smirked. "Now, please," you whispered, "let me look after you for once."
He nodded slowly, and you kissed him again, before pulling away to sit on a stool positioned behind him. He gratefully sank back against the edge of the bath as you buried your hands in his soft brown hair, massaging in the soap. Jaskier hummed in satisfaction as you rubbed your hands against his scalp, forming a foamy layer over his hair.
He began to sing softly, occasionally sighing deeply as you passed your fingers through his hair. You poured warm water over his head to rinse the soap through.
"How does that feel, love?"
"It's wonderful. Thank you." he reached behind him to grab your wrist, pulling it around and placing a soft kiss on your hand.
You wrapped your other arm around him, one either side of his head, and leaned forward, burying your face in his shoulder from behind as you slid your hands down onto his partially submerged chest.
He hummed as you rubbed his chest, stroking a finger along his collarbone and enjoying the soft hair beneath your fingertips. You began kissing his neck, pressing your lips into the hot, sensitive skin and drawing a series of whimpers and little moans from the bard. He tilted his head, exposing more of his neck as you continued.
"Don't stop," he begged softly as you began to pull away.
"Patience, love." You shuffled your chair around to the side of the tub, before reaching towards Jaskier, turning his head to face yours. He groaned as your lips collided once more. You slid a hand behind his head, pulling him into you, and squeezed his shoulder with the other. His tongue darted greedily into your mouth, and you moaned. When you finally separated, he kept his eyes closed, lips parted, savouring the memory of your touch.
You stroked his face and he smiled, slowly opening his eyes. "We should do that again sometime," he sighed.
"How about now?"
***
Jaskier had finished his bath, which included lots of kissing, and even more touching. Now that your feelings were out in the open, Jaskier couldn't seem to keep his hands off you, rubbing your back, stroking your face, tracing his fingers - or lips - along your arm. You'd insisted on taking care of him, washing him with plenty of soaps and scents, gently massaging the mixtures into his soft skin as he hummed happily, eyes closed. As reluctant as he was to have someone take care of him for a change, he clearly enjoyed it.
Now, you were cuddled up in bed, beneath heaped blankets, bodies pressed tightly together. Jaskier lay almost on top of you, one leg thrown across your thighs, his bare chest pressed against you and his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"Thank you, love."
"For what?"
He hesitated, pouting, searching for the right words.
"For caring. I don't usually... Well, not many do. Care about me, that is."
You sighed sadly, and kissed him gently.
"You deserve to be cared for, Jask. More than anyone I know. I see the way you spend so long looking after everyone else, making sure everyone's okay, but... no-one ever seems to return the favour."
He looked away, lowering his gaze, but you noticed his cheeks reddening and his eyes sparkling with fresh tears.
"I-" he croaked, unable to find the words. He'd clearly given this quite a bit of thought before you'd brought it up.
"Hey," you whispered, "It's okay."
You reached up to stroke his cheek, before gently turning his head to face you again. You met his deep blue-grey eyes, the flickering light of the fire reflected in them. Gods, were they gorgeous. Intoxicating.
"I love you, Jask."
He managed a smile.
"And I adore you."
His lips met yours again, and he squeezed you tighter, moaning into your mouth. You ran your fingers down his exposed back, making him shudder and increasing the array of sounds coming from his mouth.
When he finally pulled back for air, you took the chance to flip him onto his back, and lay on top of him. You wrapped your legs around his waist, running your hands over his chest as you deepened the kiss, feeling him exploring your mouth with his tongue and humming contentedly.
"So good for me... I don't deserve you..." you muttered praises against his lips.
Jaskier shuffled backwards, sitting up against the headboard as you settled in his lap.
You continued to kiss him, leaning over him to grasp his face in your hands and pressing your lips down into his.
Jaskier broke through the moans escaping both your mouths as he began to sing pieces of his newest song, snatching at the words between ragged breaths and passionate kisses. You laughed against his lips, prompting him to sing more, almost moaning out the words as you tugged playfully at his silky brown hair, twirling it in your fingers. You finally pulled back, and he tried to follow your lips with his own, eyes still closed, outlined with delicate lashes set against flushed red cheeks. You sighed at the sight of him, so desperate for your touch, but stopped him by running your hands down his chest. You pressed a quick kiss to his nose, which he scrunched as your lips made contact.
"You're so beautiful, Jask," you said, gently caressing his face, his features appearing almost elven in their candlelit beauty.
He looked up at you with eyes full of an equal amount of adoration. His gaze managed to make you weak, as always, and you gave into those big blue eyes, returning your lips to their place against his smile.
***
You lay on your back once again, the crackling of the fire and Jaskier's soft breathing creating a beautiful melody in your ears. He lay on top of you, and you could feel the vibrations of his breathing against your chest. You snuggled comfortably beneath his warm, heavy body. His arms were wrapped around you, and the blanket lay strewn across him, leaving the smooth curves of his shoulders and back visible in the dim light. You stroked his hair as he began to fall asleep, utterly exhausted, but stubbornly continuing to sing under his breath, despite being so tired.
Managing to place a soft kiss on your lips as he was drifting off, he breathed a soft "thank you, my love," against your skin, before relaxing in your arms and settling into a deep, contented sleep.
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in the season 3 finale geralt gets beaten up so bad he becomes australian
7K notes · View notes
hannibard · 2 months
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In almost all yennskier fics there's an element of geraskier, them being exes or Jaskier having unrequited feelings for Geralt, and while that's fine and all, I'm desperate for some fics WITHOUT geraskier, with Jaskier having to deal with all the angst that comes with being in love with your best friend's girlfriend/ex bc even if Yennefer loved him back, Jaskier is too loyal to Geralt to ever do anything about it.
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Imagine them all traveling together post Voleth Meir and Jaskier and Yennefer desperately trying to hide their feelings while failing a bit more each day.
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Imagine the secret lingering looks and gentle touches and maybe a kiss or two when they're left alone and can't hold back.
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Imagine Jaskier writting song after song about her and having to lie when Geralt and Ciri ask who it's about. Yennefer would pretend not to know.
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Imagine Jaskier going back to his usual manwhore self, sleeping with any willing person around except Yennefer and imagine Yennefer slowly giving in to Geralt's attempts to get back together, hoping her feelings for him will rekindle one day. Imagine the jealousy!
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xejune · 6 months
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hooked and caught 🎣
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blue-aconite · 23 days
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fields of dandelions || prologue
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Summary: Jake's life falls apart in less than an hour and he's left trying his best to pick up the pieces.
Warnings: Swearing, cheating
Word Count: 1.6k
Pairings: Jake Seresin x OC
Authors Note: And we're back with a new series! This has been sitting in my drafts forever and I finally found the motivation to finish off the prologue. I just think the world needs more single dad!Jake, don't y'all agree?
Thank you to my betas @a-reader-and-a-writer & @green-socks and for letting me ramble on about this!
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Jake spent a good twenty minutes staring at his own house through the windscreen. He remembered when he and Sarah first bought it. A lot had happened since. And now it looked like it was all coming to an end. 
Sarah was on the phone as he entered the kitchen, talking quietly as she flipped through a magazine. He shoved his hand into the pockets of his jeans, leaning against the doorframe and waiting for her to notice him. When she didn’t acknowledge his presence, he cleared his throat.
“Sarah.”
She looked up, eyes widening as she saw him. “Jake. I didn’t realise you were going to be home yet.” She ended the call without saying goodbye and Jake noticed how she chose to put the phone with the screen down. 
He gave her a tight smile before sitting down across from her. “Half day. They’re running drills with the kids so Mav sent us home.”
“That’s nice. Did you pick up the boys?”
Jake shook his head. “Javy picked them up. They’re trying out his new pool.” The boys had been on their case since they found out their uncle Coyote was installing a pool in his backyard. 
She hummed but offered no other answer. An uncomfortable silence filled the space, neither of them speaking. Sarah shifted in her seat, eyes darting back and forth between him and her phone. 
Jake felt his stomach turn but decided to jump the gun. “I think we need to talk.”
He had expected some sort of fight, some sort of protest, so when Sarah only sighed and twisted her face in what resembled a smile, it was like a punch to the gut. 
“How did you find out?” she asked, completely unbothered as she inspected her nails. She didn’t bother denying it, even though Jake hadn’t asked about it directly. But it was enough to confirm what Jake already knew but hoped he was wrong about. 
Jake dragged a hand through his hair, baffled at her lack of reaction. “How did I find out? Is that all you have to say?” 
“What do you want me to say?” Sarah shook her head, manicured nails tapping the table. Jake dragged a hand down his face. 
“I want you to say that you didn’t fuck him. That you didn’t invite him into our house while our boys were home. I mean, what the fuck?!” 
If his words affected her, Sarah didn’t show it. She twisted her wedding band round and round, her silence telling him everything Jake needed to know. 
“If you’ve been unhappy -”
“It’s not about that. It’s complicated, Jake.” Sarah sighed. 
Jake scoffed, clearing his throat. “Uncomplicate it for me then. Tell me why I had to find out from our son that you’ve been inviting another man into my house. How many times, huh?”
“How many times what?” she countered, staring at him. Jake could barely recognise his own wife. She didn’t seem to care that their five-year-old had seen her with another man. 
“You know what I’m asking, don’t play dumb. How many times did you bring him here?” Jake pushed away from the table, unable to sit still anymore. Sarah’s disinterest only served to make him more agitated. 
As if his question finally affected her, Sarah looked up at him but her face showed nothing. “Just one time. And the kids were supposed to be asleep.”
“How long?” It hurt to ask but he needed to know. How long had she been cheating on him? He could piece it together, track back to when she started to become distant but he wanted her to admit it. As if it would feel better. 
Sarah pressed her lips together, hands clasped on top of the table. “Couple of months. I don’t know.”
He laughed at the absurdity of the situation. Of all the possible scenarios he had of the future when he asked Sarah to marry him after high school, this one had never crossed his mind. How had they ended up here?
“Why? Tell me why.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know.” 
Shaking his head, Jake gripped the back of the chair he vacated earlier. “Stop saying that. Tell me the truth. If the last 18 years have meant anything to you, you’ll be honest with me,” he paused, drawing a shaky breath. “You owe me that much.”
“I don’t know what to say, Jake! It’s done, okay? I can’t pinpoint the exact fucking moment, alright? One moment everything was alright and then it wasn’t. And he was there for me. Stop questioning me, this isn’t an interrogation.” Sarah spat, anger seeping into her voice.
“No. You don’t get to be angry. You’re the one that fucked up. You do not get to tell me I don’t get to ask questions.” Jake spat back, his own anger surfacing. She had no right to play the victim. 
Sarah rolled her eyes, a humourless laugh leaving her. “Alright, fine. Do you want the truth? I’m so fucking tired of this life. I’m tired of staying home all the fucking time whenever you get deployed, putting my own career on hold for you. I’m tired of it all. I’m tired of you. For once, I want to do something for me, have something for myself.” 
“And to achieve that you decided that cheating on me was the best course of action? Why haven’t you talked to me about this?” Jake demands all the anger and hurt clashing together. 
Sarah shakes her head. “Like talking would do any good.”
He thought it would hurt more, to hear that his own wife was tired of him but all he could feel was a numbness spreading through his body. 
The woman sitting in front of him wasn’t his wife, wasn’t the mother of his children. She sounded cold, detached, almost like Jake felt. 
Jake scoffed. “Well, you could have said something, instead of fucking someone else. We could have tried couples therapy -” 
“It wouldn’t have made a difference. And now it doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.” Sarah interrupted. 
He stared at her, trying hard to remember the girl he once had fallen in love with. But she was nowhere to be found. Instead he saw someone he didn’t even recognised anymore. Sarah stared back, neither of them breaking eye contact. He knew it was the end. She knew it too. 
“Are you leaving?” 
Sarah lowered her gaze back to her hands. “Yes.”
“What about the boys?”
Sarah didn’t say anything. She stayed quiet, once again twisting her wedding band round and round. Jake sat down again, exhaustion seeping into his bones. “Sarah. What about the boys?”
“What about them?” She kept her eyes on her hands, refusing to meet his eye. 
Jake threw his hands up in frustration. “What do we tell them?”
Sarah pulls the wedding band off along with the engagement ring he’d given her all those years ago. He could do nothing but watch as she ended twelve years of marriage right in front of his eyes. Eighteen years together, right down the drain. 
She leaves them laying on the long abandoned magazine and Jake couldn’t make himself pick them up. He didn’t want to touch them. “We need to tell them.”
“They won’t understand,” Sarah argues. 
“So we shouldn’t say anything? They’re old enough to understand that something is wrong. We need to sit down together and talk to them,” he reasons but Sarah seems disinterested in continuing their conversation.
“No. You can tell them whatever you want. I’m not doing this,” Sarah snaps, blindsiding him. What the fuck is she saying?
When he asks her as much, Sarah simply shrugs her shoulders, that cold, hard exterior back in place. “I’m leaving. You can tell them whatever you see fit. It’s honestly not my problem.”
Jake explodes. “You’re not even going to say goodbye? How am I supposed to go pick up our children and explain to them why their mother isn’t home? How is that fair? To me? To them?!” He wants to grab her by the shoulders and shake some sense into her. 
The chair scrapes on the floor as Sarah stands and Jake follows suit, anger coursing through his veins. “You can’t just leave.”
Sarah simply levels him with a glare, challenging him to make another move. After a tense minute Sarah folds, shoulders slumping. “Fine. Pick up the boys and we’ll talk.”
“I swear to God, if you’re not here when I get back -”
“I’ll be here,” Sarah promises, sitting back down and flipping the magazine open again. The rings clatter onto the table and down onto the floor but neither of them makes an effort to get them.
As he pulls out of the driveway, Jake prays that she’ll still be there when they get back. He doesn’t believe her but at this point, he doesn’t have a choice. He chooses to believe that she wouldn’t abandon their sons. She might be tired of him, their marriage, but Jake knows Sarah loves Josh and Levi. She wouldn’t just leave. She couldn’t.
After exchanging a few words with Javy and making sure the boys are safely strapped in their seats, Jake rushes back home. He drives slower than he’d like to but with the boys in the car, he’s not willing to risk it. 
Dread fills him when he pulls into the driveway. The garage is open and Sarah’s convertible is gone. After bribing the boys with ice cream if they promise to stay in the car just a little while longer, Jake jogs up the porch, heart sinking in his chest. 
The house is eerily quiet when he steps inside and he berates himself for trusting Sarah to stay true to her word. Because all that is left of the woman he’s loved for eighteen years, the mother of his children, is a note on the fridge.
“Tell the boys I love them.”
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write-ur-wrongs · 5 months
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Stayaway
In an attempt to get out of funk, here is a very short, not edited, written-directly-into-tumblr, song-inspired grealt x reader fic. Inspired by Stayaway by MUNA (the best band in the world, begging y'all to listen to their music you will be forever changed!!).
*********
"Come on! I know you're home, I followed you!"
The bard was yelling and banging on your door incessantly and you knew you had to answer eventually. The bastard followed you home after all, he knows where you live.
"I'm not home!" you shouted back, delusional.
"Y/N! I may be a fool but I'm not stupid," he replied, and you could hear the familiar smile pulling at his lips, "Now open up! The door and your heart!"
"Jask," you sighed, laughing despite yourself at his poetic antics, "go away!"
"No! I miss you!"
"I'm not home!" you tried again, will wavering.
"Y/N!" he pleaded, and you swore you could hear half that cursed smile pull down into a pout.
You rested your forehead against the door and bit your lip, debating. All the while, your hand betrayed you, reached for the doorknob and turned it open.
Before you knew it, you were face to face with an old friend and while the sight of him filled you with joy, you were also flooded with other, less welcome feelings of remembrance.
"Y/N!" he exclaimed, pushing himself into your home and saving you from dwelling on the heavy memories that tried to creep up over you. "You're home, what are the odds?"
"Hilarious as always, Jaskier," you said, closing the door behind him. "What brings you to my little hamlet?"
"Fate, chance, what have you," he said, his cheery demeanor working overtime to cover for his abject curiosity, "The sea called and I had to answer. You know how it is."
"I do, do I?"
"Don't you? I mean you just disappeared... I assumed something called and you, you know, answered?" His tone stayed light, the practiced levity of someone who's spent years buttering people up for information all while staying neutral.
"I guess..." you bit your cheek, busying yourself by playing hostess, and pouring you both a glass of wine, "things changed and I thought, 'hell, why not change too?'"
"Fair enough... oh thank you."
"Of course," you said, taking a sip of wine yourself before guiding you both towards your couch, "but seriously Jaskier, why are you here?"
"Seriously? I was just passing through on my way to Oxenfurt when I saw a familiar face. A face I thought I'd never see again..."
You looked up from your glass then, but immediately regretted it when you met the bard's earnest gaze.
"Yennefer thought she saw you in Novigrad a while back but then... nothing. We thought you were gone for good."
"Jaskier, come on," you pleaded, praying he wouldn't elaborate on who 'we' entailed, while another, less disciplined part of you hoped for the opposite. Maybe if you knew he missed you, maybe if you knew he was looking for you... maybe you could let yourself be found.
No!
"Don't shake your head at me, Y/N. You disappear from the city, you quit your job, no one has seen you at the pub, the library - anywhere!"
"I- I know... but Jask," you stammered, trying to start three sentences at once and fumbling them all.
"I mean, you loved your job, didn't you? And what about us?" he asked, voice cracking slightly. "Gods, was the breakup that bad?"
"The thing is, Jask," you sputtered between large sips of wine, "It wasn't. It was easy, actually. He did what he always does when we fight; scowl, shut down, turn away, and then take it out on our friends. The break was clean."
"If it was so clean, then why did you leave?"
"It's the rest of it! The, the staying away that was, is impossible. If I had stayed and kept going it out with you guys, we'd drink and dance and I'd wonder where he is. Or one moment I'd be at the library studying and the next, Yen be asking me about the breakup and trying to 'cheer' me up by bringing up the good times and next thing you know? I'm answering the door for him when he rolls back into town injured and brooding. I couldn't stand it! I- I couldn't risk it."
"That's -"
"Pathetic? I know."
"No! No, but if there were so many good times, so many reasons to go back then why not-"
"Damn it, Jaskier! This is why I had to leave." You said, gesturing between the two of you before dropping your hand on your lap with a smack. "If I let him back in, then he's not the man who broke my heart anymore. Not the one who told me I was overemotional for being worried when he'd disappear for months. Suddenly everything is fine... until it's not and I'm hurt and alone again."
You felt tears begin to prick the back of your eyes and shoved the heel of your palms into them to force them down.
"Hey... Y/N," Jaskier said, gently pulling your hands away from your eyes and taking them in his. "I'm sorry, I didn't know..."
"It's okay," you said, giving your friends hands a squeeze and looking up to the ceiling, letting your tears fall for a moment, "I'm okay."
"Y/N..."
"Oh alright, but I'll be okay," you amended, laughing at yourself lightly and wiping the tears away. "Jaskier, don't look so sad. I just need time, space, distance... I will be fine."
Your words had little effect on your friend though, who seemed to grow more anxious and sad with every passing moment. You quirked your brow at him and shoved his shoulder playfully, trying to break the mood.
"Jaskier, will you relax?" you asked, desperate to get him to smile now. You really had missed Jaskier and now that he was here, you realized how much you wanted him to stick around.
"Y/N, I'm really sorry." He whispered, refusing to meet your gaze.
You were about to try another lighthearted quip when you heard a knock at your door. Not someone knocking, just a knock. One quick but deliberate rap.
"Who...?" you heard yourself asking, even though you only ever knew one person who knocked on doors like that.
"Y/N, I'm so so sorry," Jaskier kept repeating. "I really didn't know. I never would have told him if I'd known."
Your mouth was bone dry but you couldn't get your hand to reach for your glass of wine. You just kept staring at Jaskier, watching him babble.
"I'll go tell him to leave, Y/N, I'm so sorry," you heard him say, his voice barely registering over the ringing in your ears.
You felt him get up off the couch, your blurred vision registering the now empty spot on the couch only after you heard your door be pulled open.
Every fiber of your being was on fire. You were frozen. You wanted to throw yourself on the floor. You wanted to run to him.
"Y/N..." you heard him say. Fuck he sounded sad. You wanted to hold him, tell him it'll be okay. You wanted to slam the door in his face. You forgive him. You'll never forgive yourself.
Against your better judgement, you felt yourself to turn look towards the front door and your breath caught when you saw him.
Gods above, you thought, he should have stayed away.
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thefandomlifechoseme · 5 months
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consider:
professor!Jaskier, who teaches in the winter, and travels with Geralt in the summer.
it's winter, jaskier's got to oxenfurt in good time, his students are polite and attentive, and they've been going missing. not many, and not often, but alice didn't turn up to that guest lecture she'd insisted she'd be going to, peter hasn't turned up in a week, and catherine never came to that meeting the other day.
his colleagues think it's some monster. he has to talk them out of hiring a witcher, citing the fact that they don't know what it is, witchers don't take contracts on people, and, oh yeah, it's winter. the only witchers currently available for hire are the Cats, and it's incredibly unlikely that their caravans will stop by oxenfurt.
now, jaskier's been travelling with his beloved emotionally-constipated witcher for a fair few decades now. it might be a monster, some necrophage, or a werewolf. but it probably isn't. there's a reason witchers don't work in winter, and it's that monsters hibernate. and besides, the dates that the students went missing don't line up with any particular cycle, lunar or otherwise.
they do however, line up with the dates for a fae festival. now, jaskier isn't saying that the fae did this, but the fae did this.
so, he checks the next relevant date, sends a letter to yennefer, triss and one for when geralt hits the path again, as a precaution, because he's not an idiot, no matter how he likes to play the part.
he brings an iron dagger, enough food and water for 2 weeks, his best lute, his composition notebook, his path notebook, and, begrudgingly, some of valdo's less terrible works and a few of essi's latest ballads, because they have different styles of performing, and he waits outside that mushroom circle he found a few years back.
he hopes that they're only after some music to live their festival up.
(they are, thankfully, and, aside from all the word games, mind games, and actual games, it's fairly easy to get their leader to sign a contract with him stating that they will play at this festival and his festival alone, they may, willingly play at other festivals if they choose, that they're all free to leave after the allotted dates for the festival are up, and that this contract will be good for 1,000 years irrespective of any changes in leadership, with him personally, and that any changes to the contract must be verbally, and explicitly signed by all the people involved in the signing of the contract.
it's actually fairly entertaining.)
(yen and triss have a go at him later, of course, and geralt has him go over all the loopholes in his own contracts for their next five years on the path, supposedly to help him get the most money he can, but they both know it's so he doesn't accidentally leave a loophole in any other contracts he might make with the fae. but it's out love and relief, more than anything.)
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access-point · 7 months
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i like that the reason any of us write jaskier as capable and strong and able to hold his own is because of joey and his clearly built figure because if you read the books, dandelion is about as useful as a wet napkin
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queenxxxsupreme · 9 months
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Benevolent Creatures (Jaskier x siren!reader)
A/N: Hi babes!!! I will be posting a little something shortly to just explain a couple things but nonetheless, I hope you enjoy this!
Warnings: nothing outside of canon for the Witcher Netflix
Word Count: 4.5k
“Where is Jaskier leading us, Geralt?” Cirilla asked quietly. Geralt looked over his shoulder to where she sat atop Roach.
“I don’t know.” He answered.
Just ahead of them was Jaskier. He strummed his lute as he walked down a narrow path of moss-covered stones.
Ciri’s eyes flickered to her right. Something scurried beneath the underbrush.
“How much longer until we get to wherever it is you’re taking us, Jaskier?” Geralt stepped over a tree root, then guided Roach by the reins over it.
“Not long at all.” The bard spoke over his shoulder. “We’re nearly there.”
“And where exactly is there?” Ciri raised her eyebrows. “We’re in the middle of nowhere.”
“You’ll see.”
Geralt didn't like how silent everything was. There were no crickets, no frogs, no birds. There was no sign of life anywhere in the swamp.
Roach huffed and whinnied, jerking her head back. Her ears flickered back and forth as if she too was trying to find some sort of sound.
“Shh, girl.” Geralt signed axii, calming her down.
“What’s wrong with her?” Ciri furrowed her brow.
The witcher looked to his Child Surprise, then returned his gaze ahead.
“She knows something isn’t right.” He pulled back a branch from a black willow tree that dangled in the path.
Just a few moments later, the walkway opened up to reveal a pool of water. A wooden bridge that seemed to be decaying crossed over the water and led the way to a small wooden structure on the other side of the pool.
The wooden structure— which appeared to be a home —sat up on wooden stilts four feet off the ground. The front porch wrapped entirely around the home. Green moss and vines of all sorts grew along the sides of the structure, appearing as though it was being engulfed in greenery.
“Jaskier!” Geralt hissed. “What are we doing here?”
“Relax, Geralt.”
As he climbed the stairs to the house, Jaskier straightened out his jerkin and tucked his hair behind his ears. But he decided that having his hair behind his ears wasn’t a good idea and made him appear as though he was trying too hard. So he shook his head out to give himself a bit of a roughened look.
Letting out a breath, Jaskier raised his hand to knock on the door. Before his hand even touched the door, it was pulled open.
You stood just inside your home, a soft smile on your lips.
Without so much as a second thought, the bard embraced you in a firm hug. His arms wrapped around your waist and then around your shoulders. He buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your intoxicatingly sweet scent.
You kissed his neck since that was all you could reach, your fingers grasping his jerkin.
Jaskier pulled away so that he could properly kiss you. His hand found your chin, tilting your head up.
You smiled against his lips. Your hands came up to hold onto either side of his face. The sound of his heart beating quickly filled your ears. It was a familiar sound you always longed to hear.
He pulled away first, blue eyes finding yours.
“You smell odd.” You furrowed your eyebrows as you looked up at him, brushing your thumb across his stubbly cheek.
You couldn’t quite place what he smelled like, but it wasn’t his usual scent. There was someone else laced with him, someone’s scent that made the hair on your neck stand on end.
“Well, I haven’t properly bathed in days— thanks to a series of unfortunate events.”
You opened your mouth to speak, ready to offer him a bath, but you heard movement to your right. You turned your head, eyes landing on the witcher and the child Jaskier had been traveling with.
You could sense her Chaos, the powerful aura radiating off of the girl. But she wasn’t what concerned you.
The white haired witcher carried twin swords on his back. A part of you wondered if they were the same swords he had decades ago. The same swords he used to try to murder you with. The same ones that he used to kill your sister.
A scar on your forearm burned from the sight of the swords. Instinctively, you placed your hand over the scar.
You took a step away from Jaskier, brows drawing together.
“Julian, what is the meaning of this?”
Geralt’s nose scrunched as he realized who you were. Your voice was far too familiar to forget. His medallion trembled, causing him to place his hand over it. The wrinkle between his brow deepened with frustration.
Without any explanation to the girl, he reached an arm out to guide Ciri behind him.
The simple action made you even more tense and unsure of the situation. He was preparing to fight you.
A growl began to vibrate in your chest, animalistic and primal.
“What the fuck, Jaskier!” Geralt demanded, drawing a sword from his back.
As you growled once more, dagger-like claws grew from what had once been human nails on your hands.
The bard came to stand between you both, holding his hands out to either of you.
“No, no! There will be no fighting!”
“Witcher.” You spoke through your teeth.
“What is she?” Ciri asked quietly, her question directed to Geralt.
“Siren.” Geralt let out a breath. He didn’t want to let on that he was worried. Should you choose to do so, you could very easily incapacitate him and slaughter Ciri and Jaskier. “Jaskier, why the fuck have you brought us here?”
“We will be safe here for a little while, Geralt! At least until we can get some sort of plan figured out.”
Your eyes shot to the bard, unaware of his intentions. Never had he brought anyone to your home.
“Ciri will not be staying here.” Geralt told him, yellow eyes finding yours.
Your lip curled up into a snarl. Human teeth were replaced with what looked like dozens of sharp canines.
“Alright, darling.” Jaskier turned to face you, reaching out to place a hand on your arm. You turned and stormed into your home before he could put his hand on you.
“Don’t you dare touch me!”
Jaskier followed quickly behind you.
“Y/N, I don’t—,”
“You brought a witcher here to my home, Julian! And now I cannot stay here!” You spun around to face him. Your chest ached with betrayal.
“My love, my dear heart. Geralt isn’t here to cause you any harm.”
“You can’t see into his mind.” You shook your head, walking away from him once more. “He’s already made his decision and decided my fate.”
“He’s probably made that decision based on what he knows of other beings like you, but my heart, you aren’t like them.” Jaskier took your hand to stop you from moving away from him. “You are different. All you need to do is show him.”
You looked up at him, searching his blue eyes for a few moments.
Gods, you had missed those blue eyes so much.
“I won’t beg a man for my life, Julian.”
You pulled your hands out of his and turned to walk away again. This time, you only made it a few steps before he spoke.
“I’ve told you stories of Geralt before, my sweet. You’ve heard the ballads of our journeys. I am so, so sorry that I brought them here to your home.” His eyes fell down to his hands momentarily. “I wouldn’t have done it if I had any other choice, dear heart. That girl out there, she’s in danger and this is the only place that I know she is safe. And Geralt trusts me, he trusts my judgment enough to allow me to bring her here…. So I-I suppose all I am asking is that you just please, please my love, my heart, trust me as well.”
You looked past him to the front door that was left open. The witcher still stood at the bottom of the stairs that led to the porch.
Your stomach twisted with the idea of letting him into your home, into what was perhaps the only safe place you had left. After what had happened the last time you encountered the witcher, the mighty Butcher of Blaviken, you didn’t even want to be in the same providence as him.
“I do trust you, Julian.” You murmured.
Jaskier kissed your knuckles and then your lips, smiling at you.
“I owe you one.”
“You owe me more than that.” You raised your brows as he took a step away from you.
“Indeed I do.”
***
While Jaskier talked with Geralt and Ciri outside, you busied yourself with straightening a few things in your home.
There was a small stack of books that had grown on the kitchen table. You picked them up and crossed the room to the wall of bookshelves on the opposite side of the room.
“I didn’t think sirens were capable of appearing….” Ciri trailed off as she walked into your home. “Human.”
“They aren’t.” You placed the last book on the shelf. “Sirens are only capable of looking like sirens.”
“But you said she was a siren.” She looked over to Geralt.
“It’s…. complicated, Ciri.”
You crossed your arms, eyes set on Geralt.
“Because something is complicated, you refuse to explain it to her?”
The witcher gritted his teeth together.
“You are standing before what is perhaps the last Nixe on the Continent, Ciri.” Geralt held your gaze. “They were nearly hunted to extinction at the beginning of the century.”
“Why?”
“Because they are extremely dangerous. Far more than the sirens you’ve seen from Skellige.”
You tilted your chin up, trying your damnedest to remain calm and collected while the witcher spoke of the truth he knew.
“Every creature must hunt for their food.” You said. “A lion hunts for its food just the same as a fawn. Doesn’t mean the lion should be killed.”
“Your kind turned into a problem when you began slaughtering hundreds of humans purely for entertainment.”
The tension in the air was thick and uncomfortable as neither you nor the witcher backed down from the glaring contest.
Jaskier clapped his hands together, making you look in his direction.
“Alright! Geralt, let’s go outside.”
“Come on, Ciri—,”
“No, she stays here.” Jaskier pointed to Ciri.
Geralt’s eyes shot over to the bard.
“I am not leaving her here with—,”
“Yes, you are.” Jaskier grabbed Geralt’s arm. “If Y/N wanted to spill blood today, she would have done so already. You know that. Now, outside! Come on!”
You watched as Jaskier ushered Geralt out of your home and closed the door behind himself.
Ciri looked around your home for a couple moments before her green eyes flickered to you.
“How long have you known Jaskier?”
“A while.”
“Geralt said you were dangerous.” Ciri’s blue eyes looked you over. “You don’t look dangerous.”
You wore an off white dress that brushed the floor as you walked. There was a slit up one side of the skirt that came just above mid-thigh. Over the dress was a dark green underbust corset. You wore no shoes, finding the material irritating and the restriction caused by them unbearable. Brown leather bracelets encircled both of your wrists and ankles.
You twisted a ring on one of your fingers as you moved towards the kitchen table.
“Come have a seat, child.”
She sat down across from you, curious to hear what you had to say.
“My kind…. We are very similar to sirens found on the coasts. We both are only women, and we both can produce what you know of as a siren song. But only sirens can fly, and only nixes can shapeshift.”
“That’s how you are able to appear human? By shapeshifting?”
“Yes.” You nodded, rubbing your arm absentmindedly. “Centuries ago, nixes existed just as any other creature. I suppose you could say we are dangerous, but humans are dangerous as well.”
“How are you dangerous?” Ciri tilted her head to the side a little.
“Just as sirens do, nixes hunt humans.”
The girl shifted in her spot, her eyes falling to the deer mandible on the table.
“Don’t worry, child.” You reached over to offer her a comforting hand, but at the last minute, you decided against it. You returned your hand to your lap. “Julian wouldn’t have allowed you here if I was like that.”
“Nixes…. What did Geralt mean when he said nixes kill for entertainment?”
You let out a soft breath.
“Nixes and humans are very similar, dear. Humans kill for pleasure too. They start wars, they slaughter their neighbors…. But my kind, we had a few slip ups where we went too far…. And there was no going back. For that very reason, we were hunted to near extinction.”
The front door opened and automatically, you stood up. It was only Jaskier, who offered you a gentle smile.
“Ah, sorry about that, ladies.”
“Where’s Geralt?” Ciri asked.
“He had to take Roach into town to be stabled.l since Y/N doesn’t have a stable she could stay in.”
“I have no need for a horse.” You reminded him. “They tend to have a strong dislike for my kind.”
You sat back down in your chair as Jaskier came to stand next to your chair.
“I apologize for his behavior, my sweet.” He placed a hand upon your arm and leaned down to kiss your head.
“There’s no reason for you to apologize for the ways of another man.”
“I hope Ciri isn’t giving you any hassle.”
The girl wrinkled her nose at Jaskier.
“None at all.” You smiled, shaking your head softly. “She’s just curious.”
***
Jaskier took Geralt away from the house in hopes that maybe you wouldn’t hear their conversation. But the witcher wasn’t keen on putting space between himself and the monster that had been left with his Child Surprise.
“I will not go any further, Jaskier.” Geralt spoke firmly, stopping his tracks just a few feet from the porch.
“Geralt, you—,”
“You led us straight to a fucking siren, Jaskier.”
“You don’t understand, Geralt! Ciri is safer here than she is anywhere else!”
“She’d be safer in a wyvern’s nest than here.”
“In all our years, Geralt, we’ve come across plenty of monsters that weren't actually monsters. Y/N is one of those–,”
“I promise you, Jaskier, she isn’t what you think.”
“But she is, Geralt!” A smile came to Jaskier’s face. “I’ve known her for seven years, and I swear to you she is one of the kindest, most gentle beings I have ever met. And-And I cannot have you holding such a harmful bias against someone I love!”
Geralt shook his head, rubbing his brow.
“You said the same thing about the blacksmith’s daughter in Caingorn last month.”
Jaskier shook his head and waved his hands dismissively.
“No, no, Geralt. Love isn’t black and white my friend! It’s shades of gray. Y/N— She is my one true love. The one my heart yearns for every bleeding second of the day. The one I long for when I am away. The one that causes a fire in my–,”
“Does she know your love isn’t black and white?”
“Yes! She does! And she is welcoming to my love.”
The witcher raised his brows. Jaskier let out a sigh, brushing his hair back.
“Geralt, please. She’s someone important to me. I love her and I trust her with my life. Yes, in the past she has hurt people…. But what matters is that she isn’t that anymore.”
Geralt shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his eyes flickering to the house.
He wanted to trust Jaskier, but sometimes the bard’s judgment could be distracted by the presence of an attractive being.
“The first time I feel that Ciri’s life is in danger, we are leaving.”
“Thank you, Geralt!” Jaskier embraced him in a tight hug. “And I will speak with Y/N about her…. Hospitality. Though I’m sure showing up on her doorstep was quite the surprise. Y/N isn’t keen on strangers, but she is a sweetheart once you get to know her.”
The witcher grumbled, disagreeing with his friend.
***
With two satchels over his shoulders, Geralt made his way into the house. His eyes flickered around the room in search of Ciri. He spotted his Child Surprise sitting at the table with you and Jaskier.
Jaskier’s chair was pulled rather close to yours, his arm wrapped around yours and your fingers laced together.
For a split second, Geralt saw you smiling as you spoke to Ciri. But then your eyes flickered over to the White Wolf and in the same instant, the smile fell from your lips.
“It’s getting late.” He spoke, placing the bags down beside the table. “Jaskier mentioned a guest room where Ciri could rest.”
“Just down the hall.” You nodded once.
Ciri’s stomach growled with hunger. She smiled sheepishly, bringing her hand up to her stomach.
You and the witcher were the only two to hear thanks to your enhanced hearing.
“My apologies, child. I wasn’t aware I’d be having company.” You frowned, feeling a bit guilty that you didn’t have the proper food for her.
“In the morning, I will go into town and gather what supplies we will need.” Jaskier volunteered.
You stood to your feet and moved around your home, picking up a netted bag.
“Where are you going, Y/N?” Jaskier’s eyes followed you.
“I can’t have her going to bed with an empty stomach.” You gestured to her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. For the meantime, start a fire in the hearth, please.”
As the front door closed behind you, Ciri looked at Geralt.
“I quite like her.”
He grunted and rolled his eyes.
“You shouldn’t be so quick to pass judgements.”
“Same could be said for you.”
Geralt turned his head to look at the bard, who moved away from the table to start a fire in the hearth.
***
After a small dinner consisting of fish cooked over the fire, you found yourself sitting alongside the young girl as she asked you questions.
“Are Nixes from a specific area?”
“We can inhabit any water source. Lakes, rivers, ponds, seas.”
“And swamps?”
You smiled a little, nodding your head.
“Yes, even swamps.”
“Where are you from?”
You looked over to her for a few moments, trying to think of a good answer.
“When you’ve lived as long as I have, child, you don’t keep track of something so trivial.”
She nodded her head and fell silent for a little while.
“I think it is a good time for bed.” Geralt stood to his feet.
“Y/N, have you got anything Ciri can change into?” Jaskier asked. “At least until her clothes can be washed tomorrow?”
“Yes, of course. But I do think she could use a bath before changing into clean clothes, don’t you think so, dear?”
“A bath would be lovely.” Ciri nodded her head enthusiastically. The poor girl was smudge with dirt and grime. Her greasy hair was pulled back into a braid and she smelled less than pleasant. A bath would be the perfect way to finish the night.  
“There’s a pool of water not too far away–,”
“It’s getting dark outside.” Geralt interjected, causing himself to be at the other end of your glare once more. “There are things outside that could harm Ciri.”
“I can keep her safe, witcher.”
Geralt locked his jaw.
“Geralt.” Jaskier said his name as if to encourage him to let you take the young girl out.
“Fine. Ten minutes.”
You nodded once, a wordless agreement.
***
You sat on the edge of the pool of water. One foot was dipped into the water. You leaned back on your hands, your eyes flickering around the edge of the woods.
While the princess bathed, you sat guard.
Crickets, cicadas, and frogs made a beautiful and tranquil sound that resonated through the woods. Every now and then, something would splash as it broke into the water on the other side of the pool. Ciri would jump and turn in the direction of the noise. You would tell her that it was a bullfrog or a fish breaching the surface, and you may have lied a little bit to her whenever the noise came from an alligator. The animals had no interest in coming close to you, so the girl was safe.
“Y/N? Can I ask you something?” Ciri brushed her wet hair over one shoulder. You gave her a nod in reply. “Geralt is usually a very good judge of character…. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so hostile towards someone within the first few moments of meeting them.”
You turned your head to watch a black and white ringed snake slither along the top of the water and away from yourself and Ciri.
“This isn’t my first encounter with him.” Your eyes flickered back to her. “The Continent is unfortunately far too small for those of us unfazed by time.”
“I take it you don’t like each other.”
There was a long pause as you gazed at her, tempted to tell her all the gory details of the first time you ran into the infamous Butcher himself.
“He killed my sister.” Your voice fell to a quiet murmur.
“I…. I’m sorry for your loss.
You sat up, brushing the dirt off of your palms.
“She was the reason for her own demise in the end. Witchers rarely give my kind a second chance. The White Haired One saw us as more than just beasts. He gave my sister and myself a second chance. She could not control her urges.”
“Urges?”
You nodded lightly, reaching your hand out to skim the surface of the water.
“Every monster craves something. Most act on their hunger, slaughtering entire villages to satisfy their cravings. Some act on the pain that rests inside them. They destroy whatever they can get their hands on in an effort to get others to feel the same pain they do.”
“And what is it you do?” Ciri tilted her head to the side just a little.
“Survive.”
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mlm-writer · 5 months
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Old Friend (Geralt x GN!Reader)
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Pairing:  Show!Geralt of Rivia x Gender Neutral Reader (can be interpreted as platonic or romantic) Rating: Mature Words: 1670 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 21 - “I did what I had to do to protect those I love… I had no choice!” Note: Don't @ me for still posting things that were supposed to come out in October. Tags: angst, mention of Ciri & Yennefer, ft. Jaskier & Milva, murder and dark magic
Everyone would agree that Ciri was an unlucky girl with a life tainted by tragedy. Every time you spoke with her about her past, you felt a little pang in your heart. However, sometimes you envied her. The way Geralt reserved his warmest of smiles for his charge, the way the most powerful sorceress spent her time teaching Ciri and the power Ciri possessed sometimes made you feel like she was, in some way, a very lucky girl. 
You spent life on the run with Ciri, Geralt and Yennefer. Most of the time you felt like you were family, sometimes you felt like an extra, an unnecessary weight, but no one told you to leave. You had nothing to teach Ciri that Geralt and Yennefer couldn’t. They had it covered from sword to spells to alchemy. 
Then things kept going to shit and before you knew it, Geralt was flirting with death and Ciri was missing. You wanted to go find her, but Yennefer insisted you stayed with Geralt. “You can heal anything!” Geralt exclaimed as you exhausted yourself once more. He was capable of loud verbal abuse. You should’ve counted that as a win, but it was hard to, when Geralt was still bed-bound. 
“I’m doing everything I can!” You yelled back. Milva entered, her hand landing on your shoulder. It has been the same song over and over again ever since Jaskier revealed Ciri was on her way to Nilfgaard. Geralt proceeded to demand more of you. Milva forced you out. Jaskier was waiting for you with a brew of herbs that would help you recover your strength. “I’m really doing everything I can,” you sobbed by the fire. 
Jaskier put his arm around you, comforting you the best he could. “I know. He knows. He is just… Geralt.” You leaned against the bard, letting his body’s warmth seep into yours. You sat by the fire until it got dark. Jaskier eventually let you be to mull over your thoughts in peace. When you had the strength you used your magic on those that did appreciate it. You were weak, but even a little was for many enough to pull their foot out of the grave. 
Exhaustion gnawed at your bones. Your muscles felt like they were weighed down by the state of the world. You took a stroll out of the camp, trying to avoid Jaskier and Milva. They meant well, but their words were not enough to distract you from the power you lacked. 
When the lights of the camp were far behind you, you stopped walking. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, knees colliding with the muddy ground of the forest. From a secret pocket sewn into the coat you’ve had for over two decades, you procured an amulet you haven’t worn since you met Geralt all those years ago. The deep red gem reflected the light of the moon onto your eyes. Deep within the stone you could see an old friend. You promised Geralt you’d throw this trinket away; you promised you would never give in to temptation again, but despair had forced you quite literally to your knees. You clenched the charm tightly in your fist. “All is fair in love and war,” you whispered as you stared down at your fist, noticing how red light seeped between your fingers. “These are times of war and… I love him.”
Those words spoken aloud strengthened your resolve. You closed your eyes as you put the thin golden chain over your head, letting the amulet fall right where your heart was. As soon as that metal hit your chest, you felt an old friend occupying your mind once more. “I always knew you’d come back,” it told you. It gave you visions of how to help Geralt. The methods dancing on the grey moral spectrum, but led by these visions, you made your way back to the camp. You entered the tents of the sleeping patients you had helped earlier. You touched those that you didn’t think would make it to the morning. Their life force entered through your fingertips. They breathed their final breath. You felt the weak energy pooling together. One tent, two, three, you passed though the whole camp, taking what you needed from those that were not likely to hold onto it for long anyway. Each time you took, darkness rose to your skin, revealing your deeds in the night. 
Your veins had turned black by the time you entered the final tent. Geralt was fast asleep as well, too injured to even hear you entering, too unwell to open his eyes and ask you what you were doing there. A black tear rolled down your cheek as you placed your hand on his chest and let go of all the energy you had collected. The life energy of the people that died that night flowed from your chest down to your fingertips. In his sleep, Geralt inhaled deeply as the energy filled him. It only took a moment, but it felt like an eternity as you felt the weight of the lives you took to save the one most dear to you. 
When you were devoid of all the energy but your own, you collapsed on the ground, legs too tired to keep you up. You took deep breaths, trying to avoid looking at your hands. However, in the end you just needed to know how bad things were. You raised your palms, the sight - though expected - still horrifying. Your skin had blackened from the dark magic. Your hands felt fine though. “You did well. This is only the beginning of what we can achieve. You’re meant to take what you please,” the old friend’s voice echoed through your skull. The words were reassuring, but you knew all too well where things could lead. You reached for the amulet, ready to rip it off you. “You need me. Without me you’re useless. You can’t protect the ones you love.” 
Geralt had you once believe otherwise, but it only took one glance towards him to show you where his faith in you had led him to. Even the great White Wolf could be wrong sometimes. Defeated, you slowly let go of the amulet, allowing it to occupy its old spot. “Everything will be fine. You will be fine,” the being spoke through the amulet to you. You had heard those words a million times from Jaskier, but only now did they actually soothe you. 
The next morning you woke up from stirring on the bed. You hadn’t dared to leave the tent and slept on a chair. “Geralt,” you whispered, aware of your surroundings the moment your ears picked up on the rustling of blankets. You forgot what you looked like, immediately rising from the chair and joining Geralt at his side. You inspected the wound on his leg, but it was not there anymore, a new scar adorning his skin. 
Your eyes didn’t meet Geralt’s until he sat up on his own. “What did you do?” His voice dripped of venom. You lifted your head to meet his yellow eyes, darkened by the deeply furrowed eyebrows. Your throat felt tight, so tight that not a single syllable could make it through to the cold space between you and the Witcher. He called your name and reached out. You were frozen in place as his calloused fingers traced the black marks on your face. “What did you do?” He repeated the question, emphasising each word with urgency. 
Black tears pooled in your eyes, the first few already rolling down your cheeks by the time you found your voice once more. “I did what I had to do to protect those I love…” You swallowed a lump in your throat. “I had no choice.” Your voice trembled, each word shaking more than the previous one. 
Geralt was visibly seething as he grabbed your arm, his grip tight. “What did you do?” He demanded, voice booming in the small space. You tried to free yourself. 
“Geralt, please, you’re hurting me!” “Say it!” 
He knew you. He knew you from the moment he met you. He knew the person you could be once you gave up on your ‘old friend’. He knew what you did then and he knew what you did last night. He knew, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted to have mistaken that familiar amulet around your neck. However, things were exactly as it seemed and just like things never changed, Jaskier and Milva came in right on que. 
Jaskier called out for Geralt, tried to calm him. He immediately commented on how he seemed to be better, proceeded to ask how. Meanwhile, Milva freed you of Geralt’s grip. A crowd had formed at the entrance, but you couldn’t see anyone in the room but Geralt. “How many have died tonight?” Geralt demanded to know, Jaskier and Milva now in between you two. They tried to calm him. “How many?” He roared. 
His fury eventually ripped the answer out of you. “I don’t know! I only took from those that were not likely to make it to the morning anyway.” 
“Jaskier…” Geralt’s voice was quieter now he got his answer from you. He turned to the bard. “How many people died tonight?” Jaskier turned to Milva, hoping she held the answer. 
“42,” she spoke with surprising steadiness. She then looked at you, shaming you with her eyes alone. She was not the only one who despised your existence after that night. Jaskier pleaded for your life, then left with Geralt to find Ciri. You had to go your own way, fend for yourself once more. If it wasn’t for your aching heart, it was like you never met the Witcher at all. He never wanted to see you again, but even as you walked with your backs facing each other, you felt like you would see him again. It was a funny thing… destiny. 
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myself-being · 4 months
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Ok, but like, do you think Geralt ever listened to Burn Butcher Burn?
I mean, what would happen if one day he, Ciri and Jaskier were dining in an inn, and of course the bard starts singing and entertaining the guests, but then people recognize him and ask him to play that song so fervently that he can't refuse?
Has this fic been written yet?
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Would you care to dance, my dear?
Pairing: Jaskier x female reader
Summary: Jaskier has been invited to perform at a ball and has convinced the reader to attend with him, but she is uncomfortable - that is, until she sneaks into the garden for some air and Jaskier notices and joins her.
Words: 2.6K
Warnings: lots of fluff, reader implied to be female, close friends to lovers, lots of hugs and singing from the bard, mutual pining, reader has a lot of thoughts at the start but I promise there is heaps of soft bard fluff after!
A/n: So I was thinking about the lack of Jaskier fics with a demisexual reader, and came up with this. It certainly doesn't have to be read that way, but it was in the back of my mind when I was writing. The song lyrics are from Fair by The Amazing Devil, it's a beautiful song you should all go listen to. As always it's unedited, so apologies for errors. Hope you enjoy!
You hunched slightly in your seat as your surroundings continued to encroach on you. Loud chatter and laughter, the clinking of glasses, expensive shoes tapping against tiles, figures brushing past you on their way to the ballroom floor.
No one had asked you to dance yet, thank the gods. You were sure it had something to do with your miserable expression and the men's pants and doublet you wore, in stark contrast to the elaborate gowns and hairstyles of the other women in the room.
The night was only made more tolerable, of course, by your companion, Jaskier. An excellent bard, and your best friend, he'd asked you to accompany him to the party at which he'd been invited to perform. You were reluctant at first, preferring the quiet comfort of a tavern or a night under the stars, but he'd seemed so disappointed by your initial refusal, staring at you with those sad blue eyes until you finally caved. The clothing was another issue, as you owned nothing formal, hated dresses in fact, but he gladly lent you one of his simpler outfits, insisting you'd look wonderful in anything. You'd scoffed at his words, but were appreciative of his consideration for your comfort.
He danced about the room, strumming a playful tune on his lute, grinning from ear to ear as he winked at various party goers. You rolled your eyes, unable to help a smirk as you watched. Ever the performer, it wasn't only his music, but his whole manner that served to entertain the guests. He always looked beautiful in this setting, radiating happiness, thoroughly in his element. His blue doublet was open, the low cut shirt beneath revealing a smattering of hair on his chest, which heaved as he sung. His boyish fringe was swept across his face, which seemed almost sculpted, the golden glow of the many candles in the room accentuating his delicate features. Then there were his eyes. You loved his eyes, a mesmerising blue, always seeming to convey such an unbelievable level of meaning and emotion, drawing you in the longer you looked.
Noticing you staring his way, he gladly returned the smile you didn't realise you'd given him, his eyes seeming to light up even more upon meeting yours. You gave him an encouraging nod, and he grinned, launching into another song. At least he wouldn't feel guilty for dragging you along if you pretended to be enjoying yourself.
As the night dragged on, you found it harder to maintain your false appearance of positivity. You fiddled with the undoubtedly expensive food on your plate, unsure exactly of what it was and unwilling to find out. You had rejected a couple of young men who'd offered you dances, finding yourself as completely uninterested as usual, instead mumbling apologies and excuses about a sore leg. As the guests became louder, drunker, rowdier, you finally stood abruptly, in dire need of fresh air. You threw a final glance in the direction of the bard, who was currently preoccupied with entertaining a gaggle of young women with what was most likely some dramatic tale of dreamy lovers. He shouldn't notice if you stepped outside for a few minutes. Taking a deep breath, you wove your way towards the large double doors leading to the gardens beyond.
***
Taking deep breaths of fresh air, you wandered between rows of brightly coloured flowers, running your fingers through the petals as their sweet scents brushed across your nose. You manoeuvred between carefully trimmed hedges until you reached a low marbled bench, placed before an intricately carved fountain with mythical figures intertwined beneath the rippling water. Sitting down with a sigh, you ran your fingers through your messy hair, a nervous habit you'd never quite managed to shake. You didn't know why you were so averse to these kinds of gatherings. The people? The clothes? The food? Maybe it was just the atmosphere, the fake smiles, the superficial laughter, the whispered barbs whenever someone turned their back.
Or maybe you were just paranoid. Maybe all these people really were enjoying themselves. Maybe you should be too - you were, after all, invited as a guest, arriving with your dearest friend, a man for who many here would give a great deal in order to take your place at his side. Many of the women he'd thrown nonchalant winks and smiles at tonight would be jealous of a relationship which doesn't actually exist, like many others who'd assumed the pair of you to be lovers simply by observing your innate closeness. You'd never understand the way all those women could so quickly fall for him, for anyone, really. He'd often encouraged it, of course - less so now, you'd noticed, but certainly when you'd first met. He seemed to fall in love with everyone, and they always seemed immediately infatuated with him in return. While his reputation wasn't as extensive as he'd have people believe, he had a reputation nonetheless. Still, it was something you hadn't even considered when you'd first met, and Jaskier seemed just as glad of your friendship as he would have been had you sought something more.
Of course, you'd be lying if you said you hadn't grown to find him quite attractive, beautiful in spirit and appearance, with a kind, empathetic soul. You found your thoughts drifting, lulled into a daze by the soft trickle of water from the fountain and the distant chirping of night insects. You really loved him, that much you knew. He was your constant companion, your closest friend, your bard. But recently you couldn't help but find yourself wondering if he could be... not something more, that implied your friendship was of far less significance than it was, but... something different. Why now? You'd been friends for years. Why couldn't you have had these feelings and acted on them from the start? Or why couldn't they have just stayed away completely? You groaned, frustrated with your own thoughts, placing your head in your hands.
"Are you alright?"
You turned at the voice, which was deep, melodic, instantly recognisable, and laced with concern.
Jaskier stood uncertainly behind you, absentmindedly fiddling with the strap of his lute, pouting thoughtfully as he awaited your response.
"Oh I'm... I'm fine, Jask. Sorry, I didn't mean to distract you from your performance-"
"You've nothing to be sorry about, my dear," he insisted, moving to take a seat at your side, resting his lute carefully on the bench beside him. You sat in silence for a moment, the soft sounds of the night filling the air, before he spoke again.
"If anyone should be sorry, it's me. I know you hate these sorts of things, I..." He looked down, tugging at the frilly cuffs of his shirt. "It was selfish of me to drag you along."
"Don't be ridiculous, Jask. I agreed to come, didn't I? I liked the idea of spending the night with you," you felt your face redden at the poor choice of words, but chose to stumble forwards over your mistake, "I- it's a nice evening, and..." you reached down beside you, grasping one of his hands in your own. "... And I really am glad to be here with you."
He met your eyes as the corner of his mouth quirked up in a cheeky smile that slowly spread across his entire face. It was infectious, and you quickly found yourself beaming back.
"I'm happy to hear it, dear heart," he said, before shuffling closer, leaning in to rest his head on your shoulder. His fluffy hair, which shone a golden brown in the moonlight, brushed against your neck and chin, making you laugh as he squirmed about, trying to find a comfortable position.
"Are you going to wriggle around like that all night?" You teased. "Don't you have a performance you need to get back to?"
"Everything I need is right here," he murmured against your neck, voice far more gravelly than you'd expected, his hot breath sending goosebumps across your skin. That was... That was new. You hesitated a second, before leaning back against him, the warmth of his partially exposed chest pressing into your shoulder as you rested your head against his.
"Can we just... Stay like this a while?" He breathed, eyes fluttering shut.
"Of course," you murmured back, closing your own eyes.
You enjoyed each other's silent company and the warmth of your bodies pressed together as the moon crept higher in the sky. Absentmindedly, you fiddled with his fingers, lacing them between your own. Reaching up with your other hand, you ran your fingers through his hair, drawing what sounded almost like a low moan from the bard, which was quickly interrupted by a cough as he stood abruptly.
"What's wrong?" You asked, staring up at him, causing your breath to hitch in your throat. Gods, you didn't know how he could have looked any more beautiful than before, but he did. The night cast shadows across his pale skin, accentuating his delicately sculpted features with a soft blue glow. His eyes seemed to burn with energy as they stared back into your own, and you noticed a deep red glowing through parts of his ruffled hair in the light of the moon. His doublet was crumpled from where he'd leant against you, and the low cut shirt beneath was pulled far to one side, revealing a teasingly large amount of his chest. You forced yourself to tear your eyes away as he responded.
"Oh, it's... It's nothing. I... Do you... That is..." He stopped for a second, composing himself, before his face lit up, seeming to have thought of something. An embarrassed smile broke through his features as he walked up to you, placing one hand behind his back and outstretching the other towards you.
"Would you care to dance, my dear?"
Heart pounding in your chest, you smiled, before reaching up to take his hand.
"I- I would love to, my sweet bard."
He let out a nervous laugh of relief at your response, stepping back as you rose from your seat, eyes locked on each other. His fingers, calloused from years of music, tenderly grasped your own, before his hands slid down your sides to find purchase at your waist, while you placed your arms either side of his head. You held your breath, the contact making you shiver, your heart fluttering in your chest.
What is wrong with me? It's not like this is the first time we've been this close. We've shared a horse, a bed, even danced together a couple of times at village fairs. Why should this be any different?
Too preoccupied with his own thoughts to notice your lack of composure, Jaskier confidently led you around the small patch of ground hidden between hedges, your own natural dance floor, with the sighing wind, bubbling water and singing crickets providing the music. He absentmindedly bit his lip as his mind swirled, heart thumping just as fast as yours.
Why am I doing this? Of course we're close, we always have been, but this is different and I know it. I'm an idiot, a hopeful idiot. She's never been interested in me, and, as much as it wounds me, I promised myself to never let my feelings get in the way of our friendship. Promised to never tell her just how deeply in love with her I am.
Jaskier pushed his troubled thoughts aside. He wanted to enjoy this moment, and wanted you to as well. Besides, maybe he could find out, once and for all, how you truly felt about him. Or at least, ease his aching heart by finally revealing his own feelings, regardless of your response.
Taking a deep breath, steadying his trembling body, he slowly leant towards you, until his lips barely brushed your ear. A pleasant warmth shot through your stomach at his unexpected touch, and you closed your eyes with a hum of contentment, welcoming his body as your arms pulled him closer.
Softly, he began to sing as the pair of you continued to sway in the moonlight, words raw and full of pure, unbridled emotion as he murmured them into your ear.
"It's what my heart just yearns to say, in ways that can't be said..."
You tightened your grip, clinging to him in silent awe as he continued the song, each new lyric causing heat to rise to your skin in the cool night air.
"Oh, how, oh, how unreasonably in love I am with everything you do, I'll spend my days so close to you, 'cause if I'm standing here, maybe everyone will think I'm alright."
You'd stopped moving now, not daring to pull away, confused by the tide of emotions flooding your mind. What was this song? You'd never heard it before, but it seemed to come straight from the heart. Was it possible...
"It's not fair, it's not fair how much I love you"
At these words, something clicked. You kicked yourself for not realising sooner. How could you be so blind? Forget your own emotions, you knew you hadn't always been in love with Jaskier. But him? He'd been infatuated with you from the start. Yet he'd kept quiet about his feelings, until he knew they were reciprocated. Your poor, kind, beautiful bard.
You closed what little distance was left between you two, burying your head into his chest. His voice trailed off as he gently slid his hands further around your waist, returning the embrace. He gave a deep sigh, hugging you as though he never wanted to let you go, nestling his head against your neck.
Eventually, you felt his lips brush your jaw as you pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, shining eyes filled with adoration, an expression of deep satisfaction resting on his face.
"That was... That was..." He breathed, fingers gently trailing across your back.
"It was beautiful," you finished, fingers twirling the fluffy brown curls at the back of his neck.
"I'm glad you liked it," he said softly, a half smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, as his eyes flitted across your features, eventually dropping to your lips.
"This feels too good to be true..." He mumbled, closing his eyes as he gently brought his lips forward to brush yours.
"Yet here we are," you whispered against his mouth, before finally pressing your lips into his own with a sigh.
He kissed you carefully, deliberately, the heat of your bodies pressed so close together serving only to fuel the motion. You slid your hands up the back of his shirt and he moaned into your mouth, sending another wave of warmth through your body. You allowed him to deepen the kiss, his tongue lapping and darting into your mouth as he made a series of small, pleasured noises, whimpering and gasping as you continued playing with his hair.
When you finally seperated, you were both breathing heavily, hearts pounding. Jaskier's appearance made you weak, as you examined his lust darkened eyes, the soft blush creeping across his cheeks, and his puffy, crimson lips. He looked so ruffled, like a startled baby animal, that you couldn't help but giggle. You moved to rest your forehead against him, his eyelashes briefly kissing your cheek as he moved to wrap his arms around your waist.
"I love you, Jaskier," you said, running your thumb across his cheek, causing him to hum softly at the touch. You hesitated, grinning, before adding, "thanks for waiting for me."
"Of course, dear heart," he said, cheeky smile once again tugging at the corner of his mouth, before adding more seriously, "You're more important to me than you could ever know."
"I think I have some idea," you smirked, grabbing him by his shirt collar and pulling his lips into your smile.
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thedemonofcat · 10 months
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As I continue further into the captivating world of the Witcher books, including the short stories, I've come across a tale that has left me genuinely surprised that it hasn't garnered more attention: "The Eternal Flame." Within this story lies a particular scene that I am eager to discuss—the scene that seems to have slipped through the grasp of many readers.
To provide a quick recap for those unfamiliar or those who may have forgotten, the essence of this story revolves around Geralt's relentless pursuit of a Doppler. However, it is the scene near the story's conclusion that truly captivates my imagination. The Doppler, in a desperate bid to save himself from Geralt's wrath, transforms into none other than Dandelion. Here lies the crux of my fascination.
In my interpretation, it became apparent that the reason the Doppler assumed the likeness of Dandelion was due to his astute observation of Geralt and Dandelion's interactions with others. It dawned on him that Geralt held such profound affection for Dandelion that he would be incapable of inflicting harm upon someone who bore his beloved friend's appearance.
Can you imagine the potential this plot point holds for fanfiction? It is a fertile ground awaiting fans' creative minds, yet surprisingly, I have not encountered such endeavours thus far.
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Prompt 4
Geralt is the captain of a pirate ship, named "Kaer Morhen." Perhaps he's still a witcher, perhaps he's just a regular old human (with white hair and golden eyes? Lol) His brothers (and "cousins" from other witcher schools) Now I can see this going two different ways, so choose a favorite (or make up your own, I am only the beginning, I hold no affront of being anything more) Jaskier is a nobleman's son, aboard his family's ship, possibly on his way to be forced into a marriage to a woman he doesn't love. And either he falls overboard or he's shoved off as a murder attempt, but he's lost in the ocean. Lambert (or someone else, but I love to imagine how Lambert would attempt to call this out to his captain who he doesn't take seriously 90% of the time, #brothers) calls that he spots a man bobbing in the sea, and they haul him up. The majority of the crew sees sight of his jewels and finery and insists on holding him ransom. But when the prisoner wakes up and isn't afraid of death, Geralt looks into this a little more. Apparently their prisoner won't get a ransom because his entire family despise him and his want to run away and become a bard. Funny. Most pirate ships have entertainers aboard to help the pirates deal with months of nothing but ocean. Perhaps they'll have use of this dumb twink after all. OR, option number two Jaskier is a nobleman's son, chained and starved for the crime of wanting to become a bard and not wanting to marry some prissy noblewoman. He hears a lot of loud noises and screams and then a bunch of burly men in fur cloaks stomp down and start rifling through their supplies. One catches eye of him and immediately yells to the captain. The captain is a very handsome man with silver locks and bright eyes, and the dreaded pirate captain is treating Jaskier with more kindness and gentleness than his family or their workers ever have. The pirate hauls Jaskier up into his arms and carries him to their own ship, laying him down in his own bed, and looking over his injuries and sending one of his crewmembers to make hm a fine meal. Jaskier begins telling the captain of his abusive life beforehand and mentions that all he's ever wanted is to spread music and love, and shockingly enough, this big scary (gorgeous) man doesn't even laugh at him for it.. Oh fuck he's falling in love-
♡!Optional addons!♡ • Geralt gayly teaching his bard how to swordfight!!!
• Perhaps Jaskier's family is crueler and has done more than beat him, perhaps they've stabbed him or something, and the very last thing he sees before he passes out from bloodloss is Geralt (Maybe he even thinks he's an angel! Lmfao)
• Geralt getting lovingly bullied by his brothers for taking care of his songbird so well
• Geralt's crew revenge-robbing or revenge-killing Jaskier's family if we do Option one for the story (attempted-murder route), since it's implied it happens in Option Two while they ransack the ship-
• Perhaps I'll do a sequel for this prompt one day for Mermaid Jaskier, I do LOVE mermaids, take this as a much smaller and much less detailed prompt for if you want that idea, too! Perhaps the Pankratz ship has a captured mer aboard, parched and dehydrated (I just mostly think it'd be funny if Geralt was checking his pulse and if he has any injuries while random other witches dump buckets of sea water on him-)
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lakka-arts · 9 months
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“Easy,” the White Wolf rumbled, a warm hand settling on his shoulder to steady him. Dandelion stared at him with wide, nervous eyes. The Wolf removed his hand and pulled the large swatch of fabric slung over his other arm open. A moment later, Dandelion found himself wrapped in a large quilt. He made a confused noise as the Wolf lifted him into the air like a child. One of those rough, warm hands landed gently on the back of his head. Dandelion quickly found himself in the unique position of having his face tucked into the White Wolf’s neck. He swallowed heavily. “Someone get the door,” the Wolf ordered.
i made a drawing.
hi, this is your sign to read @yellowspiralbound's warlord!geralt fic These Rivers Run, which i am currently in the process of rereading and i am having the Time Of My Life (/pos). It's a really good gerlion fic that goes by book!canon and even better! it involves the hanza with one of the greatest characterizations I've seen <33
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blue-aconite · 23 days
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Summary: After twelve years of marriage, Jake's wife walks out on him. Suddenly, he's a single father of two, trying his best to pick up the pieces of their life and making sure that unlike their mother, he will never leave them. The last thing Jake is looking for is love. But as we all know, love finds us in the most unexpected ways.
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Prologue
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