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starfirewildheart · 5 months

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The Wolf and the Flame

Summary: Geralt had just found Ciri and was headed to Kaer Morhen when something drew him into the woods. He found a woman near death and things changed for them all. (I suck at summaries just read please!) Yennefer is bad in the start of this but she and Geralt work on their friendship. Eskel is a dick at first but there is a reason and it works out. Will have a happy ending. Ciri is younger here than in the netflix show. She is about 12.

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to

Words: 3,936

Chapter 1

Ciri was trying to hide her chuckle at Geralt’s low growl but couldn’t keep quiet. The red spot on his forehead was already fading to soft pink due to his witcher healing powers. She’d been frightened at the goat-like creature that had jumped from the bushes at first because it looked like the demons she’d read about in books. Geralt had told it to go away but it shot a metal ball at him from a slingshot, catching the witcher in the forehead with a loud thunk. After a low growled “fuck” Geralt was off of Roach and had the little menace pinned to the ground. The entire scene was more than funny to Ciri and even though Geralt cast her a very frustrated glare she couldn’t help but laugh.

This lifestyle was a far cry from what she was accustomed to as the princess of Centra and coupled with the loss and trauma she’d suffered she was glad for the levity. It had only been four days since she’d managed to find her protector and while she felt safe with him she was still uncomfortable with what being someone’s ‘child surprise’ meant. What were the implications of being a child surprise? Was she to be the Witcher’s mate when she got older? Was he just to be her guardian? What was expected of her? Was he now her owner? Could he sell her if he wanted to? Did she have any say in what was going to become of her? There had been no time to ask any of these things because it seemed something was always trying to kidnap or kill her. She’d seen Geralt fight several times in just the short time they’d been together and as reluctant as she was to admit it, even to herself, the witcher intimidated her greatly.

Geralt had led them to a small town to get a room for the night. Ciri had never been more grateful for a hot bath and a bed. At dinner, she was introduced to the bard, Jaskier, who had been performing at the inn. She was surprised Geralt and Jaskier were friends as they were so different. They were like night and day. She wasn’t happy when her protector left her with the bard with a simple rumbled, “Stay.” She protested but he told her he had to take a contract and earn some coin if they were going to continue to eat. She sat at the inn for nearly a full day before he returned. He was covered in blood and muck and what looked to be entrails as he swept into the bar. The silence was deafening as he approached the mayor of the town and dropped a cloth bag containing a severed Endrega head on the table in front of him. The next morning he used some of the coin to get a horse for Ciri and they headed off, that was two days ago.

Ciri finally worked up the courage to speak. “Where are we going?”

“Dorian.”

The witcher was a man of very few words and sometimes having a conversation was like pulling teeth. “Why?”

“Information.” Geralt wasn’t trying to be difficult but something was off. He felt a hum throughout his body. It was similar to when a monster was near yet not quite the same and he didn’t know what it was. It had him on high alert and he was trying to focus on their surroundings.

“Can you speak in full sentences?” she huffed softly thinking he wouldn’t hear her.

“Yes, I can,” he arched a brow in her direction. “I may be a mutant but I am an educated one.” Geralt hissed and cringed; his shoulder and back felt as if they had been licked by fire. He could feel blood trickling down his skin and pulled Roach to a stop

“I didn’t mean to…” she blushed. “Geralt?” she asked worriedly.

He was off his horse and removing his shirt with a hiss. “Fuck!” The air felt electric and the pull he felt was even stronger. He wanted to run into the woods and find whatever was doing this. He looked up when Ciri came to him. “Hand me the kit in my pack.”

“What happened?” she gasped as she saw the large slash that went from his right shoulder down to his waist in a slight inward arc.

“I don’t know.” He laid out the kit and found the healing potion he needed. He poured half of it down his back on the wound itself, the sting making him growl then he drank the rest. “What the fuck is happening?” he wondered aloud.

Ciri took one of the bandages, wet it from one of the water skins and started gently dabbing at the bloodll. Geralt tensed, “you don’t have to do that.”

“I know I don’t but you can’t get to all of this to clean it on your own. What happens if it gets infected?” She took her hand and turned the witcher back around. She knew it was only because he allowed it but still she wanted to be of use. His muscles were rigid and tense the entire time she was touching him. “Am I hurting you?”

“No.” He tried to hide the unease in his voice. He wasn’t used to someone caring for his wounds unless he was at Kaer Morhen. It made him uncomfortable.

“There, finished,” Ciri said as she got the last of the blood off his skin. The wound was no longer open and bleeding but it still looked very red and angry.

Geralt pulled his other shirt from his bag and quickly put it on. “We need to keep moving.”

They rode in silence for a bit before Ciri spoke again. “Has anything like that ever happened to you before?”

“Quiet” he whispered as he pulled Roach to a stop again. The feeling was much stronger now. It was pulling him toward the forest. Whatever it was that was guiding him didn’t seem dangerous but he couldn’t be sure. His first instinct was to ask Vesimer but of course, that would have to wait until he saw him at Kaer Morhen. For now, he had to trust his instincts.

A loud wolf’s howl ripped through the air and made Ciri jump. “Geralt!”

“Stay on your horse. You aren’t in any danger,” the witcher assured her. He slid off of Roach and handed her reins to Ciri. “Stay close.” He walked farther down the trail, sword at the ready. The scent of blood and sulfur hit him before he saw the remains of the first body. “Wait here.”

Ciri was frightened but did as he told her. Somehow the witcher seemed to have a calming effect on her even though she was scared.

Geralt walked farther away from the road into the woods and he saw a small camp. As he looked around the area he counted the bodies of about twenty Nilfgaard warriors littered on the ground. It looked as though they had been torn apart by animals and fed upon. They were in various stages of decomposition and dismemberment. Suddenly he saw movement. Someone was alive. He rushed over to the prone body and knelt down.

Naurel saw someone approaching but did not have anything left in her to fight with. This was the end for her and she was grateful for it. The pain was finally over she thought to herself as she saw a giant cloaked figure approach. Just as hands reached for her the world faded to black.

Ciri gasped when she saw Geralt running back toward her with a woman in his arms. An unconscious, bloody woman. “What happened?”

“I don’t know. There seemed to be a fight of some sort. Maybe with a beast or animal, I’m not sure. She is the only survivor.” He knelt on the ground lowering her gently so he could examine her. “Get my bag and bring me the bandages and my kit,” he ordered as he moved to unbutton the top of the woman's dress.

Ciri knelt down beside him to help and she had to look away from all the gore. “What would do something like that?”

“No beast that I know of,” Geralt growled. “This was done by humans.” He wiped away all the dirt and blood he could in an attempt to help her. “This is beyond my skill,” he sighed. “We need to get her to Lakeside. They will have a healer and with any luck, Triss will be there.” He knew the sorceress frequented Lakeside and stayed there with the healer a lot. She enjoyed the quiet and the herbs that grew by the lake. Geralt lifted the woman onto Roach and climbed up behind her. “We must ride quickly. Keep up,” he ordered as he urged Roach on.

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Triss smiled as she heard people start whispering about the approaching witcher. One thing about a small village was that news of visitors spread like wildfire. She was anxious to see Geralt. It had been too long. Her smile faded however when she opened the door and saw the near lifeless woman in his arms. “Get her on the table, quickly.”

Geralt laid the woman down and helped Triss start removing her dress. He noticed among the wounds was one just like the one he got on his back before finding her. “Found her in the woods. She was the only one left alive out of about twenty Nilfgaardian soldiers. No sign of what or who did this though.” They stopped short of bearing her completely. No one noticed Triss's friend the healer slip out the door.

“These wounds are not from a beast or animal Geralt. A human; likely a sorcerer or mage did this to her,” Triss worried. She turned to the young girl that was with them. “Fill the tub with hot water. Use the tea tree oil and add some of the liquid soap to the left.” She saw Geralt arch his brow in question. “There are so many wounds the best way to ensure we cleanse them all is to put her in a tub loaded with antiseptic. Normally I wouldn’t because it will be incredibly painful but she’s unconscious.”

Geralt removed his armor and dropped it on the floor out of the way before tossing his shirt aside as well. As soon as the water was ready they rid her of the last of her clothing and he lifted her into his arms. Carefully carrying her the few steps over and lowering her into the water. The maiden’s eyes snapped open at the searing pain and she started to thrash about and struggle. Geralt grabbed her wrists in both his hands and held her still. “Shh, you’re going to cause yourself further injury. We are here to help you. My name is Geralt and this is Triss. She is a sorceress. She’s going to heal you.”

The maiden’s mouth opened to scream at her to get away but the only sound that escaped her was a wheezing rasp. She wanted nothing to do with another sorcerer. Why couldn’t she just die? What had she done to anger the gods enough to make them let this happen to her? She could feel the restraints around her wrists and it took a moment to register that they weren’t metal cuffs but huge hands holding her still. For the first time, she forced herself to focus on the looming figure above her. Her emerald green eyes met gold and she slowly calmed down. She didn’t know why but all the fight drained from her as his low, growling voice soothed her and her eyes slipped shut again.

Ciri positioned another bucket of water under the woman’s hair as it draped over the back of the tub. She began scrubbing and picking muck and bone fragments out of her hair while Triss and Geralt cleaned her body. Ciri couldn’t help but stare at the witcher as he gently cleaned and cradled the maiden's arms and legs. She hadn’t seen the gentle side of him and it helped her relax to know he wasn’t always such a brute as he seemed.

The snarl Geralt let out when he started washing her feet made them all jump. Triss quickly moved to see what he was so upset about. There were bruises and lash marks from a cane where the bottoms of her feet had been beaten raw. “It’s a war crime,” he growled in answer to Triss’s unspoken question. “They do it so the person can’t stand to run away. I haven’t seen anything like this since Falka’s Rebellion.”

Once she was cleaned Geralt moved her back to the table and Triss covered her breasts and pelvis with towels to preserve what she could of her modesty. “I can’t heal all of this,” she sighed. “I can heal the internal injuries, probably the broken bones and the worst of the burns but she is going to have a very long recovery.”

Geralt nodded, “do what you can.”

“Girl,” Triss called to Ciri, who was now sitting in a chair by the fire. “I need to go out behind the cabin and collect all the wildflowers you can for me. I need the stems to be about this long,” she showed her with her fingers. “Take those two baskets and that cloth bag by the door. As quick as you can.” Ciri nodded and ran out the door.

Triss pushed up her sleeves and prepared for a long session of healing. “ Hold her so she doesn’t hurt herself more. Healing bones is extremely painful and the burns won’t be much better.” Several hours and most of the flowers in the village later Triss was passed out in her bed, exhausted and Ciri was asleep in the den.

Geralt sat beside the woman and kept the fire going in the kitchen. He put his shirt back on but was too tired to even bother buttoning it as he leaned back in one chair and put his feet up in another. He finally took the time to really look at her and study her features now that she was stable. Her hair was fire red, her skin as pale as his own, and her eyes almost crystal green. She was tall, with long legs, slender but muscular build. He could tell she was used to hard work be it on a farm or as a servant. She had several scars on her back and legs that looked like she’d been whipped and beaten throughout her life and he wondered where she’d come from. He took her small hand in his large one. “Who are you m’lady and what drew me to you?” he asked.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic #geralt x reader #witcher geralt #geralt z rivii

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thedemonofcat · 1 year

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Modern with magic Au: There is a distinct separation between the world of humans and the world of monsters. Since most human beings are not aware of the world of monsters, the world of monsters remains a mystery to them. Geralt of Rivia is a member of an organization that is known as the Witcher. Besides hunting monsters, witchers are supposed to make sure regular humans don't learn about the monster world.

It used to be that Geralt and Jaskier used to date and were very deeply in love with each other. It was, however, not a happy ending as Geralt was afraid to tell Jaskier about the world of monsters, so they broke up. Jaskier's safety is a concern for Geralt since he fears that if he finds out about monsters, then he would be in danger. The decision was made by Jaskier to leave as he believed that Geralt was cheating on him with Yennefer.

On occasion, Geralt and Yennefer worked together on jobs, they even dated for a short period of time. However, they decide to remain friends. Yennefer helps Geralt's daughter Ciri with her magical abilities.

The heartbroken Geralt makes the difficult decision to let Jaskier go. Eventually, Geralt comes to the conclusion that Jaskier has a regular human life that would be jeopardized if they were to be together.

So a few years pass, and Geralt continues to watch Jaskier from a distance. Every time Jaskier realizes that he has come up with a new song, Geralt makes sure to be the first person in line to hear it, just so he can hear the voice once again.

However one day Yennefer comes with some shocking news. A changeling has been discovered who has yet to be able to fully gain control over their powers. Fae are powerful creatures which, in comparison to most magical beings, are kept even more hidden from the public eye. The main advantage of Changeling is their ability to be incredibly powerful since they have all the regular powers of Fae, but Changelings do not have the weakness of Fae. A Changeling's only has two weakness that of iron and if someone learns their true name, not their human name, but their true fae name. Consequently, the Changeling will be compelled to obey the commands that he has been given.

Records indicate that there has not been a Changeling in years. There have been rumours circulating, however, that a soothsayer has predicted a changeling will bring about a change in fate that will last forever.

Geralt is told by Yennefer that he must find the Changeling in order to train them to use the Fae power inside of them. The Changeling is also being pursued by an unknown force that plans to use its powers to accomplish some unknown goal.

The changeling is tracked down by Geralt by using a special device that he uses to trace its location in the city of Novigrad. The job of Gearlt is to locate the fae and then bring them back to Kear Morhen so that the changelings will be safe.

Geralt finds the Changeling after saving them from kidnapping. Only problem is the fact that the changeling in question is none other than Jaskier.

Now, Geralt tries his utmost to keep Jaskier safe and unaware of the world of monsters. However, it appears that Geralt had failed as the musician possesses uncontrollable power and is being hunted down. At the same time, Jaskier is grappling with the realization that the magic is real and he has a part in it.

In order to take Jaskier to safety, Geralt and Jaskier embark on a cross-country road trip for the first time since the breakup. A romance that once flourished starts to bloom again

#the witcher netflix #joey batey #geralt of rivia #jaskier the witcher #the witcher #henry cavill #the witcher jaskier #geralt x jaskier #fic ideas #geraskier #jaskier #gerskier #cirilla fiona elen riannon #freya allan #anya cholatra #yennefer of vengerberg

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fandom-junk-drawer · 10 months

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The Witcher Headcanon - Assumptions

(Eskel finds out about Feral!Jaskier)

Eskel always enjoyed the winters when Jaskier stayed with them at Kaer Morhen. It was never dull when he was around. The more Eskel got to know him, the more he liked him. The man was talented, highly educated, entertaning, and a genious when it came to music. He was loyal, and cared deeply for the people he held close to his heart.

And while he was highly educated, and intelligent, he was also, well, to put it bluntly, dumb of a**. The man couldn't fight worth a d*mn. His strategy for avoiding trouble was to talk/joke his way out of it, seduce his way out, or scream and run like h*ll.

Even though Jaskier couldn't really fight, that didn't stop him from causing trouble. Eskel figured it was because not too many people were willing to mess with a man who was under the protecton of a scary Witcher, and an equally scary sorceress.

Still, the Wolves were concerned that Jaskier couldn't defend himself. They had tried several times over the winters to train him at least a little, but the bard just didn't seem interested. No one appeared to be concerned about Jaskier's lack of survival skills, so Coen had taken it upon himself to try to train the bard. He had, after only a few weeks, completely given up and told his brothers not to even bother.

Eskel had been shocked. When he questioned him on the decision, Coen had replied simply that Jaskier was absolute dogsh*t at it, and it would be more dangerous to train him. Eskel suspected that his sour mood had something to do with the hip pointer he'd aquired while trying to train Jaskier.

According to Lambert, it had been a complete sh*t show, and Coen had ended up falling hard on some tumbledown masonry when Jaskier had slipped and collided with him. Eskel decide that if Jaskier couldn't fight, he was just going to have to help Geralt look after him on the Path as much as he could.

That was how he found himself meeting up with Geralt and Jaskier one summer. They had crossed paths by chance and Eskel decided to travel with them for a while. Past experience had taught him just how hard a time Geralt had keeping the bard alive on the Path. Jaskier seemed determined to unintentionally yeet himself off this mortal coil at every opportuniy. Jaskier was happy to see Eskel. He rarely saw his friends outside of Kaer Morhen, so any chance meeting was welcome.

They stopped in Aldersberg to rest and let Jaskier earn some coin. The people had been genrous, and he had earned enough for supplies and a little extra to squirrel away. Geralt and Eskel were packing their things while Jaskier went down to get the horses. He was gone just a little too long.

F**k. He was probably getting into touble.

Sure enough, when the Witchers found him, he was being confronted by three angry men. Things were not looking good. Jaskier was already scuffed and had a bloody nose. He was definitely in trouble. Eskel was mentally thrown off balance when, instead of rushing to help, Geralt was just hanging back, watching.

"What the h*ll, Geralt!"

"What do you mean, 'wait'?"

"Geralt, he's in trouble-!" one of the men dragged Jaskier up by the collar, punched him in the jaw, then drew his sword.

F**k you, Geralt! Eskel thought, and rushed in.

He slammed into the man with the sword, sending him tumbling across the stable yard to crash into the stone wall. He turned and saw the second man was down, and Jaskier was struggling with the last one. They both fell to the ground in a tangle of limbs and curses. The man snarled in pain and his wicked looking bloodstained push knife went flying into the dirt. The scent of blood was in the air, and blood was beginning to pool on the ground.

Eskel reached for Jaskier, grabbing the back of his jacket, intending to pull him off the man.

Geralt's warning shout of "No, Eskel! Get away from him-!" came too late.

Eskel was knocked over backwards as Jaskier threw his bodyweight into him. His head was spinning as Jaskier attacked him. Pain exploded on the left side of his throat, just below his jaw. He felt something hot run down his neck, and his survival instincts kicked in. Eskel shoved his thumb into the jugular notch at the base of Jaskier's throat.

The bard made a choking sound and jerked, sitting back on Eskel's torso. Eskel saw him pull two knives from inside his jacket.

Holy f**k those knives were his!

Jaskier turned, his attention going to Geralt, who was apporaching slowly, his hands up and empty. Eskel covered the bleeding wound on his throat, trying to stauch the flow of blood.

Jaskier turned at the movement and Eskel recoiled at the cold, intense look in his eyes. He'd never seen him look that way. He had definitely never seen him pointing a knife at Geralt either, or with blood smeared around his mouth... This was not his Jaskier...

"Jaskier, it's us! It's Geralt and Eskel. Calm down." Geralt said, mentally cursing. He wished Yen was here. She was always able to bring Jaskier back to himself when his feral side came out.

Jaskier's fingers moved restlessly on the grip of the push knife he had pointed at Geralt. His hand twitched. A warning.

Geralt stopped walking, immediately going compeletly still. Geralt knew that if he moved any closer, Jaskier was going to drop the push knife, and go for the throwing knives.

He knew Jaskier wasn't seeing faces right now. He was too far into his feral state for that. He was only registering shapes, movement and sound.

"Julek, " Geralt said gently, "Julek, it's alright, they're gone." He hoped the use of the diminutive of his name would snap him out of it. It always seemed to work when Yennefer did it.

It apparently was a Yennefer Thing because it had no effect when Geralt did it.

F**k.

Geralt was more that slightly purturbed, and maybe just a little bit jealous at how Yennefer could just walk up to Jaskier when he was in this state, call him 'Julek', touch him, and he would just come back to himself. It was like watching a little girl walk up to the meanest f***ing bull in the village, and tame it with pat on the nose.

Geralt wasn't Yennefer, so he had to come up with a different way to fix this sh*t show.

He started Distress purring, not knowing what else to do. The sound thrummed, deep and rolling. He saw the way the knives wavered slightly as the sound vibrated through the air.

He kept it up, and Jaskier's arms started to untense, the push knives slowly lowering. Geralt saw his eyes unfocus for a minute.

Geralt knew he was starting to feel the soothing rocking sensation the purring was causing in his head. He purred louder.

Eskel started quietly talking to him while Geralt purred. "It's me, Jaskier, " he said softly, his hand moving up to slowly rub up and down Jaskier's thigh. "It's your 'Esol'. Come on, you remember," Eskel could feel the blood soaking into the collar of his gambeson.

Jaskier turned those hard eyes on him when he felt him touch him. It was getting hard to concentrate, to watch both men at the same time. The feeling of his own blood pounding in his head was starting to fade, and his mind was starting to feel quieter. Rational thoughts were starting to bob to the surface.

Eskel kept rubbing his leg and talking softly, ignoring the knife, "It's Eskel. You didn't forget me, did you, Baby Bird?"

Jaskier blinked. Baby Bird.

That name was familiar... That was what his friend Eskel called him...

"Baby Bird, put them down."

The cold, hard edge in Jaskier's eyes faded.

He took in the scene, saw Eskel bleeding heavily from his neck, saw the push knives in his hands. Tasted the blood in his mouth. He'd hurt Eskel! Oh gods, he'd hurt Eskel!

His face went pale and he dropped the knives, throwing himself off the injured Witcher to retch in the dirt.

Geralt was right there, hand rubbing up and down his back, still purring.

"I-I...," Jaskier stammered, looking at the blood on his hands, and on his shirt. "Shhhh," Geralt shushed him, "We'll talk about it later. We need to get Eskel patched up."

They got Eskel back into their room, got Jaskier calmed down, and Yennefer was summoned. Geralt filled Eskel in on the whole backstory while they cleaned themselves up and waited for Yennefer.

"F**k me," Eskel said, impressed, "You'd never know from just looking at him!" He reached over to Jaskier, who was kneeling beside the bed, and ruffled his hair, "Trained with an elven assasin. D*mn, Songbird, you're amazing! And you, Geralt, you're an ar*ehole for not telling me."

"Hmm."

"Those other ar*eholes know too??? Why the h*ll didn't any of you tell me?"

"'F**k around and find out'? F**k you! F**k all of you b**tards!"

Yennefer had been unsettled by the injury. It was on the left side of Eskel's throat, right under his jaw. She recognized the pattern of the marks.

Jaskier had almost severed Eskel's cartoid artery. With his teeth.

Yennefer used her magic, sealing up the ugly wound, and leaving him another set of scars. When she was done, she went to make sure Jaskier was okay. She sat with him on the bed while Eskel changed out of his bloodly clothes.

She let him lean his head on her shoulder, holding his hand, fingers laced through his. Yennefer tucked a few strands of hair behind his ear, stroked his cheek, and fussed with the lace on his collar while carrying on a private mental conversation with him. He smiled at something she thought to him, then took her hand and raised it to his lips to kiss her fingers.

"I'm so sorry, Eskel..." Jaskier mumbled miserably as he watched Eskel inspect the new scars on his throat. Eskel snorted with a cheeky smile. "It's not the first Love Bite you've given me, Baby Bird," he said, holding up his wrist to show him the bite scar there. "Now I've got another Love Bite! The others are going to be so jealsous, especially Lambert!"

"That's not a Love Bite," Geralt said with a smirk, "It's on your throat. That's a Mating Bite. You two are married now."

"But that's a werewolf thing! And anyway, it's just a myth made up by writers of erotic literature!" Eskel protested.

"Read a lot of erotic literature about werewolves, do you?" Geralt inquired, raising an eyebrow. "I'm surprised you even know what erotic literature is."

"Man, f**k you!"

It became The Joke and Eskel and Jaskier ran with it all winter long. Yennefer spent that winter in Kaer Morhen so she wouldn't miss a moment of watching the mayhem.

Eskel got to hear his bothers tell their stories about how they found out about Feral!Jaskier, and show off their scars. Except for Lambert, whose scars were in a place he couldn't show in the presence of mixed company.

And Eskel was reminded to never make assumptions. And never f**k with the bard.

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lassieposting · 1 year

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So in NOTW Illyana had three daughters with Lord Zerbst, one of whom had just made her a grandmother before the Sacking of Kaer Morhen. As children of a noble house, those daughters would've married into other noble houses across the Continent.

Anyway AU where she survives to see her youngest daughter marry a Pankratz of Lettenhove.

She survives to see the birth of several grandchildren and even more great-grandchildren, including a brood of Pankratzes.

Everyone in Jaskier's family knows that Great-Grandmama had a tame witcher. It's part of the Family Lore. Jaskier - Julian, back then - spent more time in disgrace at Great-Grandmama's lake house than his better-behaved siblings, and he's fairly sure he actually bumped into the witcher - gods, what was his name? - once or twice; tall and strong, golden-eyed and intimidating. He's only ever known Great-Grandmama as a twinkly-eyed, wizened raisin of a woman who walked with a cane, but her witcher looked young enough to be her grandson himself, no older than Father.

(He's fairly sure he only remembers these chance meetings at all because Great-Grandmama's witcher really had been quite startlingly handsome. Jaskier has always appreciated broad shoulders and toned arms. Perhaps this was something of a formative experience for him.)

She told him once that they'd once been children together, and that her witcher had grown boys of his own, but Jaskier hadn't believed her. No way they were the same age.

They seemed happy, though, despite the age gap. He remembers her giggling like a schoolgirl as her witcher swept her off her feet to lift her into her carriage as though she weighed nothing at all.

(Looking back, and with the advantage of knowing Geralt, the swords the monster hunter carried probably weighed more than she did, by then. She really was terribly old.)

He remembers the roll of letters she kept in her bedside drawer - yes, he was a snoop as a boy, sue him - tied up with a silk ribbon. Remembers the stories she told him when he was small, of brave and heroic monster hunters protecting the innocent from a grisly fate.

He finds himself telling Geralt's family this little nugget of Pankratz family history over an evening of ale, passing on Great-Grandmama's stories. The one about the two young witchers teaming up against a manticore. The one about the big battle at some hidden witcher fortress a long way from Lettenhove - the battle that almost killed her witcher, and would've killed her too had he not sent her away beforehand. The one about the witcher and the elf king.

And when he finishes the story, he realises that his audience has gone very quiet and very still

And they're all staring at Vesemir

#the witcher #the witcher headcanons #netflix witcher #nightmare of the wolf #kaer morons #geraskier #jaskier #vesillyana #anyway jask getting emotional as bards do over the parallels between illy's love story with vesemir and his own love story with geralt #'at least i only had to wait TWENTY years for you to get your head out of your arse and realise i was flirting with you'#vesemir #illyana zerbst #ves has gone as pale as a witcher can go

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shy-urban-hobbit · 6 months

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Halloween Lamden!!

CW for harassment.

"I still can't believe that's your idea of a costume." Jaskier said with a shake of his head as he downed yet another shot the bartender handed over to him, courtesy of some fan. It had been a really good set. He'd performed here a few times before and between the Halloween staples of songs such as 'Thriller' and 'Ghostbusters', the owner had been more than happy to let Jaskier perform some seasonal originals he'd been working on and they'd gone down a treat with the revellers.

"I'm wearing shades indoors. It counts." Lambert said, tapping the black frames and grabbing the next shot and downing it before Jaskier could even think to protest, trying not to wince at the overly sweet, fruity concoction. Apparently it was now more likely you were going to wake up after a night out with a cavity rather than a raging hangover.

"Just barely. Everyone else in here made an effort!"

"Too much of an effort in some cases." Lambert smirked moving his head to exaggeratedly look Jaskier up and down as the musician sat fanning himself with one hand, pausing briefly to flash the raven haired man the middle finger.

He'd gone for what he claimed was "Glam rock Dracula" and Lambert was loath to admit he'd made a pretty decent job of pulling it off. A black sequined peasant shirt which made Lambert feel itchy just looking at it, tight leather trousers with black rhinestones down the outside seams, paired with a black faux fur jacket that looked more like feathers from a distance and black platform heels. The look completed by dramatic black and red makeup and foundation pale enough to make his already fair skin look damn near ethereal underneath the club lights, his plastic fangs sitting on the bar next to him (turns out it was a total bitch trying to drink while wearing them).

Geralt and Yennefer had gone the classic Dracula and Bride of Dracula couples costume, with Yennefer meeting Jaskier's joke about people thinking he was their third with a "More like our Igor."

Which caused Jaskier to sulk and pout that "That isn't even the right fucking story, Yen." Lambert was pretty sure she'd gotten it wrong just to annoy the other man.

Eskel had put in an appearance as the wolf man. Complete with torn shirt, monster contacts and fake fur spirit gummed onto the back of his hands. He'd made his exit not long after Jaskier had finished his set, wanting to support his friend but not wanting to stick around. Halloween had never really been his favourite holiday but even less so since his accident. He found masks claustrophobic, prosthetics irritated the scar tissue and people constantly asking him about his "realistic make-up" got old fast. He was content to celebrate by binging on fun sized candy and watching B rated horror movies.

And Lambert? Lambert had thrown on a black muscle shirt along with his black jeans and boots and a pair of shades and just told anybody who asked that he was "His security." Whilst pointing at Jaskier (and ignoring Jaskier's grumblings about how saying he was his Familiar would be more in character whenever he was in earshot). Lambert had nothing against Halloween itself, it just pissed him off whenever he got dragged to anything where fancy dress was mandatory. It just seemed wasteful spending money on clothes and props that'd just get thrown into the back of the closet never to be seen again (at least, that's the excuse his mum had given - among others - whenever he'd asked why they never went to costume parties, or went trick or treating).

Jaskier had become enamoured with a sexy bumblebee who had sidled up to him during the lull in conversation and Geralt and Yennefer had disappeared about ten minutes ago to try and find some dark corner to do whatever the hell people tried to do when both parties were wearing fake fangs, leaving Lambert free to people watch. The DJ who had taken over was seemingly just replaying the classics Jaskier had already sung but at this point in the night people were either too drunk or too hyped to care. He hooked his shades into the neck of his shirt as his eyes wandered over various interpretations of cartoon characters and superheroes - some he recognised, most he didn't - and a handful of what he guessed to be meme references, interspersed with the traditional monster costumes.

He straightened up on his barstool when his eyes fell on one zombie costume in particular, or rather, the man wearing it. He looked pissed as hell and from the looks of it with good reason as he held another guy dressed as a poor man's Phantom of the Opera at arms length with a hand to his skinny chest, scowling as he yelled something while Phantom was looking at him with the kind of sleazy smile that made Lambert's skin crawl and he wasn't even the one it was aimed at. Zombie made to turn and walk away before Phantom grabbed at his hand and reeled him back. Lambert caught a brief flash of fear on Zombie's face before the anger returned as he turned to give a more forceful push this time, Phantom laughing like it was all a big game.

Fuck this.

Lambert's feet had carried him across the dancefloor before his brain had even fully registered what he was doing. He clapped a hand down heavily on Phantom's shoulder, causing both men to pause in their altercation and stare at him, "Let him go and piss off." Lambert growled into the man's ear.

He flashed Lambert what he obviously thought was a charming smile (and what Lambert thought made him look slightly constipated), "What? It's just a misunderstanding, it's all good."

"Not from where I'm standing. He doesn't want you touching him."

Zombie proved his point by using the lapse in concentration to yank his arm free, "That's exactly what I told him right after he groped my ass for the second time." He yelled in an accent Lambert couldn't quite place, sharp white teeth flashing from under black painted lips.

"C'mon man, you know how the game goes." He petitioned Lambert like they were old college buddies or something, "He's just playing hard to get."

Zombie looked about two seconds away from clawing this guys eyes out and Lambert was tempted to let him. Instead he threw him a warning look which, to his surprise, the other heeded. Didn't stop him from trying to kill the douche with the power of his stare though.

"Look pal, either you leave here on your own two feet, or I drag you by that three dollar cape and throw your ass out onto the kurb myself. Your choice."

"What the fuck? Who the fuck even are you man?"

Lambert smirked dangerously at him, "Security."

Phantom floundered for a few seconds before looking angrily back at Zombie, as if this were somehow his fault, "Whatever. Frigid bitch." And then to Lambert, "This place sucks anyway."

"Oh my god, thank you." He sighed, taking the empty stool next to the one Lambert reoccupied. Now that he wasn't distracted, Lambert saw that he was fairly dark skinned under the ashy makeup. His tight fitting jeans and shirt were artfully ripped and torn in a way that might be called stylish if they weren't covered in fake gore and mud, someone had covered his tightly curled hair in what looked like talc and something else to give the illusion of grave dirt, one of his eyes was clouded but Lambert was unsure whether that was part of the costume or genuine and he wasn't about to ask, "My knight in....black cotton, apparently."

"No problem. Would've happily punched him in the face if I knew it wouldn't escalate shit. You ok?"

Zombie laughed, "I was about three seconds away from doing that myself before you stepped in. You saved me from having to grovel to my brother after getting blacklisted by another club."

Lambert raised an eyebrow, there was a story there.

"Hey, what time does your shift end? I'd like to buy you a drink. Nothing weird." They quickly added, holding both hands up, "Just as a thanks."

"Oh, I don't work here." Lambert said, leaning on the bartop.

Zombie's brow scrunched in confusion, "But, you told that guy you're security. And the outfit-"

"Is the worst costume ever!" Jaskier exclaimed, leaning forwards on his own stool to peer around at whoever Lambert was talking to, "My Security is not a valid costume option."

Zombie tilted his head as he appraised Jaskier's outfit, "If you're supposed to be a vampire, wouldn't Familiar be more accurate anyway?"

Jaskier grinned so widely and smugly his fangs almost fell back onto the bar top, "Hah! Vindication! I like you..."

"Aiden."

"Aiden. I'm Jaskier and Mr. No - Imagination here is Lambert if he's not told you already. Now, what's this I heard about punching somebody?"

Jaskier's face grew darker as the other two filled him in and he had to be talked out of marching into the back to the main office to chew out the acting manager about their "fucking non existent security." before getting helpfully distracted by another sexy insect (a butterfly this time).

Lambert felt oddly touched at Aiden's concern over him getting into trouble for impersonating club staff - a worry that was put to bed by Lambert pointing out with a shrug and a bucketful of mock innocence that even if anybody found out; he'd just told the creep that he was security, he never said who's exactly. Not Lambert's fault if the guy just assumed he worked here. Aiden had laughed at that and bought Lambert another drink.

"I should get going." Aiden said, finishing the last of his drink (the third they'd shared), "I need to make sure I'm up early enough to get revenge on the siblings who abandoned me here. Although." He flashed Lambert a shy smile. Totally different from the wide, dimpled things he'd been sporting for the last couple of hours and one that for some reason made Lambert's stomach flip, "Perhaps I should be thanking them instead."

Lambert poured all of his concentration into not blushing while he downed his own drink to prevent his mouth from coming out with something stupid.

Aiden pulled something out of his wallet, scrawling on it with what Lambert thought might be the stub of an eyeliner pencil fished from his pocket, "Here." He held out a small rectangle Lambert recognised as a business card, "I'd really like to talk to you again when I'm not covered in three layers of face paint and fake blood. Call me?"

Lambert nodded, their fingers brushing as he took the card, "I'll text you my number. You ok getting home?"

Aiden's smile widened adorably as he nodded, "Different sibling lives two streets away and I have a key. I'll see you around." Aiden held a hand up in a final farewell before making his way to the exit and disappearing in the crowd of departing party goers.

Lambert gave a private smile as he absently flipped the card over and saw Aiden's little hand written "Happy Halloween, Knight." complete with a little doodle of a smiley ghost. He dug his phone out to text the number on the other side. Happy Halloween indeed.

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #lambert/aiden #lambert x aiden #lambden #aiden x lambert #aiden/lambert #witcher aiden #witcher lambert #lambert

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captainkirkk · 1 year

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✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes.

Shadowhunters

Dona Nobis Pacem by lawsofchaos (+ podfic)

Part 2 of Consular High Warlock Magnus Bane

"When Alec kneels before you on that dais, Magnus,” Jace keeps going, “he’s telling every person present that it is your judgement, your respect, that he places before all others. In you placing that rune on his neck, Alec is publicly proclaiming that it’s your blessing and your judgement on him and on his reign as Head that gives him the right and the authority to uphold the Covenant.”

Magnus' throat is too tight to speak, but there’s a distinct shimmer visible in his suddenly unglamoured eyes.

Oh My God Dad, You Can't Just Ask People Why They're Blue by Ellegy42

"Nothing weird ever happens when Rafe sneezes,” Max complains into Papa’s stomach when he finally gets home.

The Sandman

Right Place, Right Time by sherwoodfox

Over the centuries, Hob had dreamt plenty of dreams about his friend from the tavern. All good dreams, of course.

Very good dreams.

Usually not dreams that featured either of them wearing very much clothing.

But until the talking bird told him otherwise, he hadn't considered that those dreams might be real.

(Featuring: a live Jessamy, Hob rescuing Dream from the fishbowl, a mess to clean and a happy ending.)

The Witcher

Every Word by GoldenDaydreams

Jaskier kept his secrets close. The fewer who knew, the fewer could hurt him with the curse—it was a secret he intended on taking to the grave.

The grave might just come early.

Hannibal

They Came to Florence or: Plagiarize This Fic by shiphitsthefan

Author William Graham has had a book on the bestseller list for the better part of a decade. He's also a recluse—no interviews, only a rare book signing or lecture. Otherwise, no one knows much about the man beyond the words in his novels and the requisite headshot on every cover. Even the blurb printed underneath his scowling, bespectacled face, framed by a head of messy curls—

“Oh my God,” said the woman strapped to Hannibal's surgical table, “will you please just kill me already?”

Dr. Hannibal Lecter has a thriving psychiatry practice and a not-so-secret obsession; William Graham has an impressive writing career and not a single goddamn clue

DC (Batfamily)

still feel your teeth around my organs by gladioar (deargalileo)

drake isn't getting out of bed. damian doesn't know what to do. thankfully alfred and dick do.

Untamed

See Me, Feel Me (Listening to You) by Ghost_Honey

Letting himself get cursed may not have been the smartest thing Wei Wuxian has ever done, but he'd argue that it’s completely in character. So he should earn some points for consistency, at the very least. Besides, when the spirit had been explaining it, the curse hadn't sounded too bad. Maybe a little bothersome if he underestimated how many people felt strongly about him, but surely, surely, it wouldn't be enough to hamper him in the long run.

Let it be known that Wei Wuxian is an idiot.

Because, when he emerges from the dilapidated husk of the temple, he can't see anyone

Or: Wei Wuxian gets cursed so he can’t see or feel anyone who feels strongly about him and assume this means that the people he cares about actually hate him.

#i've been so busy i haven't been able to read much fic #hence the lateness of this #but i have a BUNCH of fandoms this time #and a new one!#i haven't finished shadowhunters quite yet but i'm already reading fic for it kjdkj #weekly fic round up #my posts #my fics #dc recs #untamed recs #hannibal recs #witcher recs #sandman recs #shadowhunters recs

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flowercrown-bard · 2 years

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A Happy Man

(@thingr2 you might like this? It kind of has 'birds still sing' vibes. Please tell me if I should stop tagging you in stuff)

"Are you happy?" Geralt asks. He's pretty sure he already knows the answer, but he needs to hear Jaskier say it.

Jaskier's spoon stops half-way to his mouth. Soup is drizzling back into the bowl but Jaskier doesn't seem to notice. He's too busy staring at Geralt like he had just asked him to sell his lute. The steam rising up from the soup fogs up Jaskier's glasses and obsures his eyes, but the bewildered expression is no less effective for it.

"What's brought this on?" The spoon clatters, as Jaskier let's it fall back into the bowl. Some of the soup splashes onto the woolen jumper he's wearing. He hadn't worn the extravagant doublets in a long time, said there's no need for that anymore and that he prefers comfort over luxury.

Geralt shrugs. He wants to avoid Jaskier's eyes, but he had unlearned how to tear his eyes away from him ages ago. It had been even longer since he had wanted to.

"I don't know," he says. His fingers drumm on the table - a nervous habit he had adopted from Jaskier. "It's just. You always wanted to have adventures."

A laugh tumbles from Jaskier's lips at that. He reaches out and takes Geralt's hand; a way to share the laughter with him, even if sometimes Geralt still struggles with laughing as loudly and freely as Jaskier does.

"Oh dear heart, I'd say I had my fair share of adventures," Jaskier says, when his laughter dies away. "All these years you try to tell me not to run after you on hunts and now you want me to go on adventures again?"

"I want to know if you're happy," Geralt corrects him softly.

"And why would you think I'm not?" Speaking makes the wrinkles around Jaskier's mouth even more apparent. They come from years of laughing and singing and loudly proclaiming his love for Geralt and yet Geralt can't help but wondering.

"You always wanted to travel. There is still so much of the continent left that you didn't see."

"There is," Jaskier agrees. With his free hand, he gestures towards the painting of the coast hanging on the wall, the collection of knick-knacks on the window sills, that Jaskier had bought on their travels and the stack letters on a shelf, that Geralt had sent to him over the years whenever he had left their home for a little while. "And how lucky I am that I have someone by my side who has seen every part of it and can tell me all about it."

He lifts Geralt's hand and presses a lingering kiss against his knuckles. He doesn't lower their hands back onto the table again.

"You wanted an exciting life," Geralt says.

Jaskier sighs softly and presses his cheek against their joined hands. "And what makes you think I don't have the most exciting life I could imagine?"

There are so many answers to that. So many ways in which Jaskier could be leading a better life, but the way he is looking at Geralt makes all words die away on his tongue.

"Are you happy?" Jaskier asks, when it becomes clear that Geralt won't reply.

Geralt takes in the small room that is filled with mementos of their life together. And he looks at Jaskier, well-fed, healthy and still smiling despite the way his bones would sometimes creak in the morning.

Yes, he is happy. Of course he is. How could there be any other answer, when he gets to be there by Jaskier's side, as he is growing old?

Unable to put any of that into words or even say a simple 'yes' out loud, Geralt simply nods.

Jaskier's face lights up, just the same as it had that time Geralt had told him he liked his songs.

"See?" Jaskier's thumb caresses a small circle into the back of Geralt's hand. "There you have your answer."

#I don't ever write in present tense #So I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors #Geraskier #Old Jaskier #Jaskier #Witcher #My writing #Ficlet

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thelostgirl21 · 10 months

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youtube

"My number-one priority, which I said to her, was just to make sure that we were doing it right and that we did it sensitively with a care and a kinship, and I wanted to avoid all kinds of stereotyping, really. So there was an awful lot of script rewrites and things like that. We deleted whole scenes in favour of songs. So I brought in a new song, and I said: 'Can we just cut all this dialogue, and I can just sing something?'" - Joey Batey, Digital Spy interview

The first time I watched that scene, when Jaskier started singing that last part to Prince Radovid:

Of them, I’ve had enough. With you, I have enough. With you, I am enough. I am… I am enough...

I literally started crying. Because, although it's played for laughs, since the beginning of the show, Jaskier's often been portrayed like this "annoying character" that tries too hard to be liked, wanted, and involved in his friends' lives... to find his "forever home"...

But often, he just gets punched in the gut, blamed for everything going wrong in other people's lives, gets told off when he tries to introduce himself or be included in moments where people are there to offer each other comfort (but apparently want none from him) as a result...

Season 2 started to make some progress on that, with Yennefer and Geralt allowing themselves to show more vulnerability around him, and telling him that his help his needed...

Season 3 saw characters that are usually so quick to dismiss him and treat him harshly (ex: Yarpen Zigrin) actually thank him, when they realize how selfless Jaskier can be, and the risks he is willing to take to help others (even those that treat him like an annoying nuisance)...

But still, he'd gotten used, at some point, to being "barely tolerated" rather than "wanted". And his "break up" with Geralt broke his heart and hurt him so much that, although forgiven, I believe it did leave some scars...

As someone with ADHD (that has a tendency to get overexcited about a bunch of things without noticing that it doesn't interest people, impulsively interrupt them with my thoughts, follow them around, and "impose my presence" without meaning to) and associated rejection sensitive dysphoria, Jaskier's behavior and emotional responses are something very easy for me to identify with.

And having him sing "With you I am enough. I am enough," hit me right in the feels, in the most cathartic way!

Prince Radovid is the first person we met on the show, I think, that was shown as being immediately happy to meet Jaskier, wished to adopt that puppy and bring him home right away, saw him as being irresistible and special, envied Geralt for having Jaskier as a friend/companion, couldn't get enough of his singing, and listened when he talked to the things he didn't say...

Knowing that it is Joey himself that just decided to basically show up to work with that song he'd written, and ask if he could sing it instead of using the dialogue in the script, just ended up offering yet another layer to that scene.

When hearing him sing:

"It’s not a want, it’s a need, it is paying no heed to what others say to sing."

now, I can't help but feel like there's some kind of "meta" dimension to those lyrics, as the actor chose to sing what he - as the person embodying Jaskier - wanted to sing, rather than what had been scripted and what others would have wanted him to sing.

That song feels deeply personal, born out of a very intimate understanding of the character, and how being treated the way that he used to be treated would have emotionally and psychologically affected him.

I'll be 100% honest, when Joey was talking about the sapioromantic connection between the characters, and explaining how Radovid wore a mask, was a bit of a mystery to him, and how Jaskier would become fascinated and wish to figure him out...

...I was genuinely concerned that they'd somehow manage to "romanticize" yet another toxic relationship, where the two characters would constantly be trying to outsmart and play mind games with each other.

But that's not it at all. They are both seeing what they try so hard to hide from others. Prince Radovid's environment is highly toxic and dysfunctional (as Jaskier aptly described, he's stuck in a vipers' den) - knowing too much, or not enough - can mean life or death for him.

Whereas Jaskier tries so hard to meet expectations and be what others need or want him to be - give voice to other people's issues, stories and problems - that he all but becomes invisible to others himself as a process.

Sure, they know his name and his songs. But they don't know Jaskier's own soul or story. He fades away in the background for the benefit of others.

They are both trying to figure each other out not because they are people that enjoy indulging in court intrigues, manipulating others, and dominating "the game" for their own gain...

They are trying to emotionally connect with the good, beautiful, and vulnerable parts of themselves that they have been forced to hide from the rest of the world to survive.

They are highly insightful empathetic individuals using their gifts on each other to empower each other, rather than malignant narcissists using their perceptiveness to control each other.

This is an extremely refreshing and healthy relation dynamic that I was sort of hoping for - since Joey put so much emphasis on how important it was for him to offer a relationship that may be flawed, but handled sensitively and carefully without resorting to stereotypes - but this totally went above and beyond my expectations!

If Joey Batey himself isn't queer, then he's got such a capacity for love and emotional empathy that he's apparently able to care about queer issues with the intensity and insightfulness of someone that has experienced them.

The fact that he's using queer labels and sub-categories that are often lesser known by people outside of the LGBTQ+ community to describe Jaskier's sexuality (sapioromantic, panromantic or pansexual...), as well as talking about issues affecting non-monosexuals, such as the desire to avoid bisexual erasure, brings some much needed attention towards the richness and diversity of the LGBTQ+ community!

I sincerely couldn't be happier, or more grateful...

Apparently, there are plans to further explore Ciri's bisexuality, too, with the introduction of Mistle in Season 3!

Here's hoping they'll be using Jaskier as "queer consultant" for the other queer romances on the show...

Also, the relationship between our sweet Bi!Ciri and her weird Pan!Uncle Jaskier means everything to me...

I'm trying to remember if Ciri has been exposed to any models of queer romances in her life...

I mean, most unions between princes and princesses, or kings and queens, are often political alliances. They might have same gender consorts, but I'm not sure that this is something they would have educated younger princesses about, or made very "public".

I sort of want to have her catch Jaskier and Radovid while they are kissing at some point, and realize that the innocent crush she had on Triss in Season 2 is something that is perfectly normal, and that she shouldn't be afraid nor ashamed of that part of herself.

Maybe even go to him and start asking him questions about it... That would be a very thoughtful and sensitive way to explore what being queer means in the world of the Witcher; having Ciri learn, directly from Jaskier, about the potential risks associated with being in an openly gay relationship.

There would really be such an opportunity for the two of them to continue to bond over something like this, and Ciri would know that she's got someone that genuinely loves her and that she can trust to support her and the choices she makes regarding her love life in the future, no matter what.

I can see so many possibilities, though I'm trying to be cautiously optimistic about this (since if they went that route, it would just seem too good to be true!)...

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bambirex · 10 months

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I'm already seeing people say that when if Radovid betrays Jaskier, it means that Joey lied to us and that it's disappointing, bad queer rep, queerbaiting, even...

I just really do not agree with this mindset...?

Like, even if the worst happens, it does not negate the fact that Joey has fought tooth and nail for bi Jaskier since season 1, and we got it!

It does not negate the fact that there was a canon queer ship on the show that wasn't just in the background.

It does not negate the fact that we got a new, beautifully sincere layer to Jaskier's character via this relationship.

It does not negate the fact that Jaskier was loved and appreciated. If what we're worried about actually happens, I truly doubt Radovid will end up laughing maniacally and revealing that he only played with Jaskier and had no feelings for him. I think he would rather be bitter and sad about it, like "shit, I've truly started falling for you, and I don't want to hurt you but I have to and I hate that, in another lifetime we could have been something beautiful together" like, even then I believe it's mostly sincere, as in Radovid isn't JUST playing?

Clearly a lot of thought and care went into this story, and into this ship. They could have made it into a joke, could have made it completely subtext, but they didn't, because it's clear that they cared. That, in itself, is beautiful and something that needs to be remembered fondly.

Also, not a big fan of this idea that only happy sunshine and rainbows queer couples should exist in media. I've been here when the bury your gays trope was rampant, when LGBTQ characters were only tokens in the background and just characterized terribly. But things are definitely a lot better now in terms of representation (there's still a lot that needs to be fixed, of course), we have more options to choose from so... Even if a queer couple turns "toxic" (or it just simply doesn't work out), that does not mean the authors clearly hate all of us and wanted to hurt us on purpose. We have a lot of stories to tell, and as long as they're told with respect and care, it's a good thing

#we don't know what happens yet in vol 2 #i am actually leaning more towards the expectation that it will end sadly for them one way or another #but that's not something we can know for sure #and even if things turn sour... it's still a well written ship with nice chemistry #also nowhere did joey promise they would have a happy ending? he simply said that that he wanted to make sure queer stories #are told truthfully and that Jaskier's relationship with Radovid would be safe for and would mean a lot to him #so it's obvious that a lot of care went into this and neither of these things are mutually exclusive for me at least #the witcher #the witcher season 3 #bambi says some bullshit

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27dragons · 4 months

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New Year Countdown: Dec 25

Random choice for today was Geraskifer and the AU the generator picked for me was... canon. This obviously isn't really canon, but it's not TOO far off. Do I want to tell you all the time I spent poking around in various Witcher wikis and fandom sites trying to figure out their winter holiday traditions? I do not. Let's just say it was probably more than a 600-word ficlet really warranted. So just have some sneaky clever Jaskier and a Ciri who's enjoying her second childhood to the fullest.

Dec 25 - Geraskifer - Canon - Stocking

Ciri’s shriek jerked Geralt out of a sound sleep. He snatched up his sword even as he leapt out of the bed. “Ciri!”

Yenn pulled a silver dagger from under her pillow as she stood, heedless of her nakedness. Her eyes narrowed and her jaw clenched in determination.

The door burst open. Geralt’s shoulder ached as he recognized Ciri and halted his instinctive attack.

“Come on!” she demanded, and she didn’t look frightened or even worried. She looked... Excited and happy.

Geralt lowered his sword with a heavy sigh of relief. “Fuck. Don’t--”

“Come on!” Ciri repeated, practically dancing on her toes. “It’s Midwinter! We have to open our stockings!”

Geralt twisted to look at Yenn. He hadn’t thought about the Midwinter celebration at all. He certainly hadn’t gotten gifts to hide in anyone’s stockings.

Yenn’s violet eyes were wide as they met his, and she gave him the tiniest of head shakes. She hadn’t gotten anything either.

“Come on!” Ciri urged. “Father Winter came!”

“All right, give us a minute, we’ll be there,” Yenn said. When Ciri had danced back out of the room, they both sagged.

“I forgot about Midwinter,” Geralt murmured as he picked up his shirt.

“Me too,” Yenn admitted as she pulled on her dress. “What are we going to do?”

“She’s nineteen,” Geralt grumbled. “You’d think she was six, with all the yelling.”

They finished dressing and went out to the little cottage’s common room and stopped, staring in amazement.

There was a roaring fire on the hearth. The copper kettle was hanging on its hook, bubbling gently and smelling of wine and spices. Laid carefully beside the hearth were three bulging stockings. No Yule tree had appeared, but there was an evergreen wreath on the table, bright with berries and apples.

“What--” Geralt wondered, but was cut off when Ciri shoved his stocking at him.

“I told you, Father Winter came!” She grinned and kissed his cheek. “Happy Midwinter.”

“Happy Midwinter,” Geralt repeated, still half-stunned, and looked down at his stocking. It appeared to be filled with fruit and candy and nuts. He emptied it onto the table, item by item.

“Did Ciri do all this?” Yenn whispered as she emptied her own stocking, next to him.

“She must have,” Geralt said. “The house is warded, no one should be able to--”

The door opened with a flurry of snow, revealing Jaskier, his lute and his pack both covered by a thick, fur-lined cloak. “I made it!” he exclaimed. “I thought this storm was going to make me miss Midwinter.”

“Jaskier!” Ciri yelped, and dove forward, pulling the bard into the warmth before hugging him tightly. “You’re back!”

“I am,” Jaskier agreed. “I rode right through the night in the hopes of getting here in time for Midwinter.”

Geralt’s eyes narrowed. Jaskier didn’t look like he’d been riding through a storm for hours upon end. He barely looked chilled, and the flakes of snow in his hair were already melting.

Ciri released him to bounce over to the fire for a mug of wine to warm him. Jaskier swirled off his cloak with a flourish and came to greet Geralt with a kiss. “Geralt.” He eyed Yenn. “Witch.”

“Insufferable bard,” Yenn returned, though she leaned in to give Jaskier a kiss of her own, then lowered her voice. “Is all this your doing?”

“Of course it is,” he said. “You two are rubbish at anything that isn’t serious. I wasn’t going to trust you with Ciri’s first Midwinter with us. Radovid sends his greetings, by the way, and a large parcel for our feast.”

#my writing #countdown to 2024 #the witcher #geraskifer

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starfirewildheart · 3 months

Text

Chapter 7

The Wolf and the Flame

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to

Words: 2,104

“Turn your back to the forest, hut, hut. Turn your front to me, hut, hut.”

“I’m sorry,” Yennefer said as they walked through the forest toward the hut.

“Don’t,” he growled. “There is no apology that can make up for what you did.”

“I lost my chaos, Geralt. I’m nothing without it. This was the only way I could get it back.” His silence was more painful than if he physically struck her. “What if someone took your ability to be a witcher away? Would you be this damn self-righteous then?” she snapped.

He stopped walking and spun on her. “Even without the mutations and trials, I would still protect the innocent! I would not damn others because I couldn’t be what I felt I was meant to be!” He tried to calm himself as he knew a blind rage could get them both killed but he was over her arrogance. “Just like your need to have a child when you were willing to sacrifice everyone in your path to get what you wanted! You said you had no choice in becoming what you are just like I had no choice but that’s not true Yennefer. You had a choice! You had a choice to leave Aratusa just like you had a choice to remain as you were before you paid the price for beauty. You had a choice to use your chaos for good but instead, you chose to use it for power. Do not speak to me about choices! Naurel and Jaskier are humans! They are innocents but none of that mattered to you. All you cared about was yourself, it’s all you will ever care about!” He stormed off deeper into the woods letting his medallion guide him leaving Yennefer to wallow in her self-pity.

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It took nearly two full days to get to the temple and Yarpin was worried about his charges. Both of them had stopped talking and that was shocking for the bard. He was surprised to see Nenneke and a few others waiting outside the temple when they arrived. There was something about that woman that put him on edge. She seemed to know things that others didn’t and he couldn’t prove it but he thought she could read minds too. “Geralt sent us. He said you would help them.”

The priestess nodded and told her people to take Naurel and Jaskier to the healing wing before turning to Yarpin. “You and your people are welcome to stay but you will not bring weapons into the temple.”

“We’ll wait out here,” he told her, unwilling to disarm.

Nenneke and her people set to work on Naurel and Jaskier quickly stripping them both and cleaning them and treating their injuries. They were both still unconscious when Geralt arrived a day later.

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The white-haired witcher shifted in the chair where he’d sat for the better part of two days after arriving at the temple. It had all been a waste of time. The deathless mother had already escaped her prison and was lost to him and Yennefer had fled. He hadn’t cared enough to search for her since she wasn’t a threat without her magic. Leaving her to wallow in her self-pity seemed all he was capable of since he was so worried about those he loved. Nenneke had tried to get him to rest, promising she would come to get him if there was any change in either patient but he steadfastly refused. She called him stubborn and treated his injuries before leaving him with his friends.

He’d held both their hands on and off, talked to them, fretted over them hell he’d even yelled a little hoping to get a reaction but nothing happened. Naurel’s wounds were healing well and Nenneke felt that the reason she’d not woken yet was due to exhaustion and starvation. Jaskier on the other hand was not fairing as well. A few of the burns had festered and infected and with it being winter Nenneke didn’t have access to the herbs she needed to help him. The wars that Nilfgaard had waged had wiped out her stores. She sent some of her people out to check apothecaries but it would be a while before they returned even if they were able to find what she needed.

“It’s not looking good Geralt,” the priestess told him, trying to prepare him for the worst.

“He’s stronger than you think. He will pull through, he has too,” Geralt said softly as he wrung out a cloth and placed it on Jaskier’s fevered brow.

Nenneke put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “If you need anything, send for me.” She left when he nodded.

Naurel heard water dripping and it caused her thirst to rage as she struggled to break through the blackness of sleep. It felt like her eyelids were glued together and her mind was muddled and foggy as she fought to wake up. She wondered where she was because she didn’t feel like she was still tied to a chair. There was something soft below her. Memories of Geralt riding to their rescue flooded her mind. Her witcher had come for them! Geralt was there! Damn it she had to open her eyes, she berated herself. Finally, her eyelids fluttered open and she saw his broad back and white hair beside her. Breathing a deep sigh of relief that they were safe and he was with them she allowed herself to relax a fraction and focus. His body was tense and she knew something was off because he hadn’t realized she was awake yet. It took more effort than she wanted to admit but she was able to move her shaky hand until it rested upon his thigh. She couldn’t help but notice him jolt at the touch. “A witcher caught off guard?” her voice was raspy and she barely recognized it as her own.

He’d been so focused on Jaskier that he hadn’t noticed the increased heart rate of the shift in scent as Naurel fought to wake. Her touch shocked him and he jumped, turning to her. “Naurel,” he gasped as he moved to the edge of her bed. Carefully looking her over and brushing the hair from her eyes he placed a soft kiss on her lips. When her arms moved around his neck he wrapped her in a hug pressing her to his chest. They stayed that way for a long time just breathing each other in and drinking in the embrace.

When he finally laid her back she saw the tears that were falling from his golden eyes. Reaching up and cupping his face with her hand she wiped at them with her thumb. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner,” he told her.

“You had no idea where we were taken. It’s a miracle you found us at all.” He was beating himself up for it and she knew it. “This isn’t your fault.”

“I should have protected you,” he argued.

“You saved us Geralt,” she said again and caught his eyes looking to the left. She followed his gaze and saw Jaskier laying in the bed next to hers. “Jaskier?”

Geralt lowered his head. “He’s not doing well. Nenneke is trying but the infection is bad. If I had gotten there sooner,” he trailed off.

“Then he would still have the infection,” Nenneke said from behind him.

Naurel looked up and saw a small, friendly-looking woman approaching and noted that Geralt didn’t react to her so she relaxed as well. She took a breath to say something but started coughing and couldn’t stop. Geralt grabbed a goblet of water off the nightstand and held it to her lips as he lifted her head. She took several drinks, the cool water felt heavenly on her cracked, dry mouth and throat. “Thanks,” she smiled as she eased the cup away.

“How are you feelin dear?” Nenneke asked, offering her a smile.

“Like I lost a battle with a dragon,” she grinned. “But better now,” she put her hand on Geralt’s chest.

“You have been through a lot, young one,” the priestess nodded. “The anomaly in your blood seems to be what is keeping you from having an infection like Jaskier.”

“Anomaly?”

Nenneke nodded. “There are several things we need to discuss but you must heal first. You are all safe here. Rest and recover.”

“You can heal Jaskier right?” she looked over at her friend. “He kept me alive through all of this.”

“It’s winter and the herbs I need are out of season. I’ve seen people looking for them,” Nenneke explained. “If they can be found they will be.”

Naurel chewed at her bottom lip worrying a split there causing it to bleed again. She hadn’t realized until she felt Geralt’s thumb gently free the abused flesh from her teeth with a soft hum of admonishment. “Do you have a bed for the herbs where dead husks are?”

“Of course but the dead plant has no healing properties,” Nennenke explained.

“Take me there,” Naurel pushed herself to a sitting position.

“No,” Geralt’s booming voice was jarring. “You are not strong enough to be up. It will do no good to make yourself worse just to see a plot.”

“I know it makes no sense but please. You can carry me if you want but I need to get to that garden.” She was terrified of what she was about to do but she refused to let Jaskier die because she was afraid of repercussions. She could help and she would.

“Naurel, stop,” Geralt pushed her back against the pillow with no effort at all she was so weak. “Nenneke is doing all she can.”

“But I can help!” she insisted. “I’m going, Geralt! You can help me or I can go on my own.”

He shook his head as she tried with all she had to remove his hand from her chest and stand up. “You are going to hurt yourself. Naurel! Meletele you are stubborn,” he sighed in defeat. Standing he scooped her up in his arms and followed Nenneke out to the gardens to the small plot where the herbs she needed were normally.

“Put me down please,” Naurel urged. She wasn’t surprised when he knelt with her instead of just laying her down. She looked around for anything she could use to cut herself, her eyes finally settling on a pair of sheers that had been left near the edge of the garden. “I need those,” she pointed and told Nenneke. The priestess handed them to her curious as to why she was doing this. She and Geralt shared a worried look as the redhead took the sheers.

“Naurel!” Geralt growled when she cut the flesh of her palm with the sheers. “What are you doing!”

She moved her hand over the dead husks before Geralt could grab it and let the blood drip over them as she said a prayer. She felt the energy leave her body and prayed it was enough as she lost consciousness again.

Nenneke gasped and Geralt jumped to his feet holding Naurel to his chest. “How?” he whispered.

“I.. it can’t be,” Nenneke shook her head.

“What?” the witcher asked again.

“There are legends but I didn’t think they were real. It was so long ago,” she said as she quickly picked the now live and healthy herbs.

“What the fuck are you talking about?” he demanded!

“I will explain, I promise but right now I have to get these herbs to Jaskier. Bring her back to bed so she can rest.”

Geralt growled, unhappy that he still didn’t understand but he did as she said. He felt Naurel stir as they walked through the halls. “I’ve got you,” he soothed as her small arms wound around his neck and she buried against his chest.

Wolf and flame tag list

@kneelforloki

@shellyshellshell

@warriormirkwood

@mollymal

#geralt x reader #witcher geralt #geralt z rivii #geralt of rivia #witcher fanfiction #the witcher #the witcher netflix

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fandom-junk-drawer · 9 months

Text

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern AU) - Sibling Vibes

Yennefer and Jaskier's early relationship worried Geralt at first. It had caused a certain level of tension that kept Geralt on edge, making him feel like something was coming. Something he would not at all be happy about. He was convinced that Jaskier, at some point, would make a move and try to f**k Yennefer. He had a certain reputation, after all. Geralt was left in a perpetual state of uncertainty.

Geralt knew that Jaskier had considered the idea when he first met her, but at the time he was mildly terrified of her so he elected to behave himself. He was very good at reading people, and it was obvious at the time that Yennefer was not going to put up with his nonsense.

But years later, well after they had figured each other out, he'd never tried to make a move on her. There was nothing but chaste forehead and cheek kisses, hugs, and cuddles, and Jaskier never put his hands on Yennefer in any kind of inappropriate way.

Geralt had been suspicious for a long time, watching Jaskier closely. He was uncomfortable with the way Jaskier seemed so casual about making jokes and calling Yen his 'wife'. He knew Jaskier knew that Yennefer was taken, but that had never stopped Jaskier before. Geralt had heard many of Jaskier's stories about past lovers. Many of them involved individuals in commited relationships.

Geralt wondered how he was still walking this mortal plane.

But Yennefer was different. Jaskier told Geralt one evening, as they sat drinking in Van Roach, that Yennefer was...just special. He loved her in a way that he had never loved a woman before. She made him feel seen, and like he was just an average, irritating brother. She didn't give two sh*ts that he was a Viscount, or a famous bard.

He couldn't really explain the feeling. It was complicated. He knew, without her even telling him, that even though she constantly reminded him of how much she abhorred him and wanted to vomit at the sight of him, that she didn't mean any of it, and that she would go to war for him. She would burn the world to the ground if anyone hurt him. Or if he asked it of her.

"She would b*tch about me the whole time, but she would do it without hesitation, and give no quarter. It's actually mildly unsettling, now that I think about it."

"I know it sounds stupid...but she's...she's the b*tchy, edgy, slightly unhinged-- probably demon possesed -- sister that I didn't know I was missing in my life. The thought of touching her like that... I could never! It feels wrong, and it makes me feel sick to my stomach."

"Geralt, you know how I am. A week or two and I would be chasing someone else's a**. I don't want that for her. I won't do that to her. I won't f**k either of you like that."

"What do you mean how would I-!" *offended gasp* "How dare you! I'm trying to have a heartfelt conversation with you, and you are making jokes!"

Yennefer had summed her thoughts up less poetically, and much more consicely.

"He's a f***ing aggravating, derpy a**, sing-songy manwh*re, who is so f***ing stupid I don't know how he's survived this long. But he's so babygirl I can't help but like him!"

"Oh please! He's not my type."

*eyeroll* "Big, beefy, oblivious, white-haired himbos with better tits than me and dummy thicc a**es."

"You f***ing heard me."

Geralt had been left feeling kind of silly for not trusting his own family. Every day that passed from then on was just more proof that what they had said was true.

Geralt realized that was what was special about Jaskier. Sure, he was a genious when it came to his craft, but he was also gifted at reading people and he naturally interacted with them in the way that balanced them; gave them what their heart needed the most.

Geralt thought about his own interactions with Jaskier. He knew he tended to brood, and be too serious. He kept things to himself and self-isolated. Jaskier balanced him out by bringing the humor, playfulness, and extroversion Geralt needed.

He could see that Jaskier was meeting a need in Yennefer that she probably didn't know she was ignoring. Something her heart needed. He was allowing her to have a little of the life she could have had if she had not been sold to Aretuza. She was experiencing life with a sibling.

There was a certain level of bellicosity to their interactions. It appeared as if they lived for confrontation, craved it, bickering just like siblings would. Neither of them could let an opportunity to make a comment go to waste. Geralt secretly kept a score card on who came up with the best insults. Jaskier was winning so far, but only because he was a bard, and words were his business.

There were pranks, and made up games, and hundreds of little things they did to each other to pester, annoy, and irritate. Most of them, if not all of them, were f***ing childish, which somehow made it even more amusing.

Their pranks on each other were just as childish and sometime impressively creative/sneaky. They were mostly harmless and didn't make too much of a mess, and the way they would scream when they got pranked was somehow satisfying.

Names were often called, but in an affectionate way. It was all in the tone of voice. There was a difference, Yennefer insisted, between "b**tard", and "b**stard" (affectionate), even though it sounded the exact same to Geralt.

And there were the times when they were so soft with each other. Just little quiet moments where they stopped pretending to hate each other and would be disgustingly cute or playful. They really were like a brother and sister.

The only thing that gave Geralt a headache about their relationship was how it could just randomly change. One moment they were close, loving siblings, then they were being brats to each other, taking immense joy in f***ing with each other, then they were threatening to disown each other, then Yennefer was jumping Geralt's a** for something he said to Jaskier, or both of them had ganged up on him and were being petty little a**holes becuase Geralt had p*ssed one of them off.

It was exhausting, and that was why Geralt called them the Chaotic Siblings. It was as if everyday they woke up and chose violence. But Geralt couldn't complaint too much. It was free entertainment after all!

#the witcher #the witcher headcanon #the witcher modern au #the witcher netflix #twn #geralt #geralt of rivia #yennefer #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #julian alfred pankraz #geraskier #geraskefer #geraskifer #yenskier #yennskier #yenneskier #yennaskier #sibling vibes headcanon

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seidenbros · 2 years

Note

Hey :) OMG I LOVED YOUR GERALT IMAGINE YOU POSTED YESTERDAY ❤️❤️ Therefore I also wanted to ask for a Geralt imagine where the reader is maybe his true love (and also a Witcher) but they separated ways long time ago. Then he comes back to Kaer Morhen only to see her being carried in by Eskel, terribly hurt and barely alive. Geralt then cares for her and waits till she wakes up to tell her he still loves her and wants a second chance. It's all cute then and he insist on taking care of her the whole time. Maybe something like that and I hope this is fine for you ❤️

Hey there!

Thank you so, so much for these kind words, they already made me amile when I read them for the first time, and they did so as well right now. 💚

This was MORE than fine for me, because I loved writing this. (I'm a sucker for soft and worried Geralt tbh). So I hope you'll enjoy what came out in the end 💚

(I’m always happy to receive requests, so if you want to, send some in. If you need inspiration, here are some prompt lists )

Pairing: Geralt x (Witcher)Reader

Warnings: Angst, fluff, soft Geralt

Word count: 2648

_______________________

I Will Love You Until My Dying Day

With high hopes, Geralt retired to Kaer Morhen for the winter. He'd talked to Jaskier for a long time, after he'd managed to make the Witcher open up. Jaskier knew how he was, that he didn't talk much, that he looked grumpy most of the time, but the last couple of months – ever since Geralt had met up with him again after the winter – he'd been worse. Even less words, always on edge, so that he'd even lashed out at Jaskier again. That had happened before, but an apology had quickly followed, since Geralt's anger hadn't really been directed at him, but Jaskier had just been there in that moment. This time, Jaskier had demanded an apology for his stupid behaviour. He'd gotten that, but Jaskier had also wanted more: An explanation for his behaviour, what had happened over the winter, that he'd returned with an even worse attitude than before.

With a sigh Geralt had told him that you hadn't returned home for the winter. He'd been so worried about you, but had quickly found out from the other Witchers that you were fine, that you were just spending the winter with a friend instead of coming home – because you didn't want to see Geralt. He'd brought that upon himself, he knew that, because he'd been the one to break you heart.

For some time, you'd been happy together, been travelling together even with Jaskier. So Jaskier knew what had been going on between you and why Geralt had broken up with you, why he'd thrown all these years of happiness together over board: Because he thought that you deserved better.

Ridiculous! Jaskier had told him how stupid that was, because Geralt clearly still loved you, and he did, but that was why he had to let you go. So that you could really be happy with someone else, and not worry about him all the time, because he was more reckless than you were when it came to fighting monsters. You'd always been a great team, but he'd seen your worried face too many times over his wounded body, when he'd finally woken up again. He never wanted to see that look on your face again, so breaking your heart and pushing you away from him was the logical thing for him to do. To save you. To Jaskier, that was just ridiculous, because you two clearly still loved each other, kept each other in check, and Geralt thought that leaving you would be the best thing for you. What a giant idiot.

The first year after your separation, it had been strange between you at Kaer Morhen. Geralt had tried his best to get out of your way, but every time you were alone, there had been awkward silence. You hadn't wanted to talk to him most of the time, because you'd still been in too much pain, while Geralt hadn't known what to say to you, wishing everything could have gone back to normal. You were one of them, part of there family, so it had been logical for you to return home, but it had been... painful.

The second year, you'd stayed away from the keep, had written Vesemir a letter to let him know, and though he'd missed you terribly, he'd completely understood. Ever since you'd left Kaer Morhen the spring before, you'd only seen Geralt once, when you'd stayed in the same town, but you'd done your best to get away as quickly as possible. So by now, it was well over a year that you hadn't seen him, but whenever you'd met one of your brothers, you'd asked them about him.

The last winter, you hadn't been able to return, had needed to stay away, instead of being up there in close proximity to Geralt. You'd needed more time to heal your aching heart, get to the point where you could stand in front of Geralt and treat him as a friend again and not have flashbacks of the love you'd shared before. It had been good to spend the winter with a friend, even though you'd missed your family. But that was why you were coming back this winter – at least that had been the plan...

When Geralt arrived at the keep – he'd taken Jaskier with him this time, not wanting to leave him on his own after what happened the previous winter where he'd nearly gotten himself killed – there were only two people missing. Everyone had already arrived except for Eskel and you. Geralt didn't want to get his hopes up about you, but he couldn't deny that he wanted you to walk through that door so that he could wrap his arms around you, tell you how sorry he was. Jaskier had made him realise how stupid he'd been, how much happier he'd been with you by his side. Now, he was just miserable and put himself in even more danger than before, because he didn't have anything to lose, did he?

Wrong!

Jaskier had made it clear, that there was so much he had to lose, that he was miserable without you, and that he was jealous of the person you'd spent the last winter with. That much had been obvious to all his brothers as well, because they'd teased him about it. None of them had understood why Geralt hat broken things off with you in the first place. All his reasoning for this kind of behaviour had slowly vanished over time, and he'd admitted to Jaskier that he missed you, that he still loved you and never wanted to hurt you, but pushing you away had seemed the best idea to him, instead of someday making you suffer even more when he got himself killed one day.

“It is better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all!”

Jaskier words were still ringing in his ears while he was waiting for you to walk through that door, day after day. Nobody had heard anything from you, which he took as a good sign. After all, the year before you'd let Vesemir know that you wouldn't come here. This year, he didn't know anything.

When the door finally opened, Geralt detected your smell, even before he turned around. Eskel's smell as well, but something else. The scent of blood. He whipped his head around and was on his feet even before Eskel's lips opened.

“I need help!” he yelled, carrying you in his arms, your heart barely beating, breathing coming shallow, unconscious.

“Let me!” Geralt said before carefully taking you from Eskel's arms, giving you a once over. “Fuck...” It didn't look good. You'd lost a lot of blood, and the cold had affected you as well in your weakened state. Right now, he couldn't see all of your injuries, but he'd make sure to tend to them.

Eskel hadn't protested when Geralt had taken you from him, knowing that it wouldn't end well if he did. He knew what Geralt felt for you, how worried he was, so he let him take charge. Eskel was worried as well, yes, but getting in Geralt's way right now, would be lethal for him. So he stood by and watched Geralt take you away, Vesemir and Jaskier following him.

“You have to do something,” Geralt said to Vesemir putting you down, beginning to strip you of the clothes that were in the way of your injuries, to see what exactly had happened. He didn't need to hear it from Eskel, it was more than enough to see the damage you'd taken.

“You need to breathe, Geralt.” Vesemir's words were calm as he started to tend to your wounds, but Geralt was still scanning you to figure out just what he could do to help you. Seeing you like this... it tore his heart apart.

“I can't lose her, Vesemir.”

“I know.” He'd always known and though Geralt more than stupid for his behaviour, but he'd never said a word.

Feeling Jaskier's hand on his shoulder, the presence of his friend by his side, Geralt relaxed a tiny little bit, but was more than happy to help, when Vesemir told him what he needed. Geralt could probably have taken care of some of your injuries himself, maybe even all of them, but right now, he wasn't able to think straight. So he let Vesemir do the work, gave him everything he needed, let him stitch you up, while Jaskier was taking care of your clothes, bringing some new ones into the room as well as blankets and furs to keep you warm.

“She needs a lot of rest now,” Vesemir said, putting another fur over you, the last one Jaskier had brought in here.

“I'll stay here,” Geralt said immediately. He wouldn't find peace anyway, so he'd watch over you.

“Just... let me know when you need some rest and I'll come and swap places with you.” Jaskier meant well, he always did, but Geralt wasn't having it.

“No need. I won't leave her side.”

Vesemir and Jaskier exchanged glances, but said nothing more. They knew better than that, and so they left the two of you alone.

For two days, Geralt only left your side for a couple of minutes, because he didn't want to be absent once you woke up. He had a couple of things to say to you and didn't want to waste any more time than necessary. He slept next to you on a chair, ignoring the pain in his back and his butt. Most of the time he was covering your hand with his, but now and then he got up to walk a few steps, always keeping his eyes on you. If the others hadn't brought him something to eat, he would have completely forgotten about that as well. His focus was on you, on your well-being, nothing else mattered to him.

It was the evening of the third day, when you finally opened your eyes. Everything still hurt, so the first sound you made, was a groan, blinking several times to focus on what was in front of you, or rather who was there.

“Geralt?” you managed quietly, voice croaky because your throat was dry. Geralt acted immediately, helping you sit up slightly, so that you could down some water.

“Y/N... Just take it slow. You've been injured and unconscious for three days, so please don't strain yourself.” Geralt's voice was unusually gently as well as his touch when he pushed a couple of loose strands from your face.

“I'm sorry I worried you.” A sigh left your lips. Yes, your injuries were bad, you knew that, felt it as well, but you were here and they'd taken great care of you. They always did. But still, you were more concerned about what your family had gone through, specifically Geralt. You'd tried your best to put distance between him and you, to tell your heart that you weren't allowed to love him anymore, because that would only end in more pain. But your heart hadn't listened, had never thrown Geralt out, and instead, it was still beating for him. You knew that he'd pick up on that, but hopefully, he'd just attribute that to what was going on.

“I'm the one who needs to apologize,” Geralt said quietly, clearing his throat, before he took your hand in his again. “I never should have said all these things to you.”

“What do you mean?” You were confused, because you hadn't talked in a very long time, so you weren't sure what he was talking about.

“When I said that I didn't love you anymore and you should go and be happy with someone else.” There, these words were out at least. He could see the surprise in your eyes, but you didn't know what to say to that, because you didn't know what exactly he meant with his words. You didn't want to interpret too much into his words.

“I never stopped loving you, Y/N.”

That made your heart beat even faster, and now you were sure that he knew that it was due to his words. Tears were pricking at the backs of your eyes, but you tried to hold them at bay. Needless to say: you failed big time. All these years with a broken heart, and now he was telling you that he'd loved you all along?

“Why did you...” you tried to say, but couldn't get more words out.

Geralt let go of your hand to carefully wipe away your tears, letting his fingers linger on your cheeks a little longer than necessary.

“Because I was an idiot. I thought you were better off without me. Every time I got hurt, I saw that worried look on your face, and I didn't want to be the reason for that any longer. I wanted you to find someone that loves you just the way you deserve and that you don't need to stitch up and fear that you'll lose him any time there is a monster to fight.” Geralt heaved a sigh, brushing his thumb over your cheek. He was calm, calmer than he'd been in a very long time, all because of you. “I wanted what was best for you, and so I thought that leaving you was the best way to achieve that.”

“You were the best thing for me, Geralt. I was happiest when I was with you.” The hint of a smile grazed you lips.

“I still love you... Last winter when you weren't here I was going crazy, because I thought of that friend you were staying with.” Geralt shook his head.

“Say that again!” Your smile widened a little at his words.

“What?”

“That first part... Everything else doesn't matter anymore.”

Geralt's lips twitched up in a smile, when he leaned down. “I still love you, Y/N. Always have, always will,” he whispered against your lips before he kissed you. A soft, lingering kiss that made you feel more alive the longer your lips touched.

“I love you, too,” you whispered against Geralt's lips, raising your hand to let your fingertips graze the stubble on his cheek and chin.

“Do you feel well enough to move? I'll carry you!”

“Move where?”

“To my room. We'll have some privacy to talk, because SOMEONE is eavesdropping.” You heard shuffling at the door, knowing that Jaskier had been listening to the two of you the whole time, which only made you chuckle. “I'll get us some food and we'll take the blankets, and just-”

“Yes!” You pulled him down to kiss him again, before you slowly sat up.

“I need you for myself for some time. I think we have a lot to catch up on.”

“Oh yes, we do!”

Geralt got everything set up in his room, which gave you a little time to talk to the rest of your family, before he pretty much whisked you away again, only to bed you in even more furs than before, so that it was comfortable for you. You only talked for a little bit, before Geralt fell asleep. His head bedded on your stomach, your hand in his hair, and he'd closed his yes. The last days had held very little sleep for him, and now that he knew that you'd be alright, now that he'd told you what he'd needed you to hear, he could finally sleep peacefully in your presence. There were many more days when you could talk, but for now, you were more than happy to stroke his hair and watch the man you loved sleep for some time.

#Asks #staffi writes #geralt of rivia #the witcher #the witcher imagine #the witcher fanfic #geralt imagine #geralt fanfic #geralt x reader #geralt x female reader #requests #geralt x fem!reader #geralt x witcher!reader #imagine-all-the-fandoms

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chemicalcindercat · 2 years

Text

The thief had snuck in through the window to the small inn room in the middle of the night, looking for his pouch of gold. Had Jaskier been a heavier sleepier, maybe he would’ve had the luxury of sleeping through his mugging, waking hours later to find himself broke. However, as luck would have it, he just had to wake up with the urge to pee right as the man with the dagger was crossing the room in front of him.

No sooner did Jaskier blink away the sleep in his eyes, than the weapon was lodged into his stomach. It had been a shallow stab, obviously meant as more of a warning than anything else. The man had told him to keep himself quiet, and he wouldn’t be hurt any more than he already was, but he was Jaskier.

He had never been good at keeping his mouth shut in the first place.

The bard’s first instinct was to scream. Geralt was two doors down- they had finally saved up a small fortune, enough to rent more than one room for the night, and Geralt had tired of Jaskiers noise- and would be quick to the musician’s rescue, surely.

As soon as Jaskier opened his mouth, the man clamped a stinky, sweaty hand over his mouth, and dug the knife in deeper with his other hand.

“Hnng-!” Jaskier groaned in pain as the dagger dug deeper into his skin, trying to quiet himself. He weakly pushed against his attacker, in a pitiful attempt to make the pain stop, but his efforts were met with more pain as his arm was twisted painfully behind his back. He cried out, before biting his lip hard to cut off the noise.

“Like I said, keep quiet, brat,” The man hissed roughly in his ear. “No need to bother the witcher, aye? Else it’ll be him bleeding out here next to ya.”

Jaskier whimpered softly, but kept his mouth shut even as the man removed his hand. Perhaps it was the blood loss, but the more Jaskier thought about it, the easier it was to stay quiet. He didn’t want to bother Geralt, after all. The witcher already had to put up with his noise constantly, he wouldn’t be happy about being woken up to something like this.

Jaskier nodded slightly, to himself. There was no point in waking the witcher, he needed his sleep. The world was already fuzzy on the edges of his vision; it would be so easy to simply close his eyes and never open them again. Geralt would wake up and realize that his annoyance was finally gone, and he would be very happy. It was much better this way. In fact, Jaskier thought as his eyelids fluttered shut, it would be much more work to keep his eyes open at this point than it would be to close them.

There was a loud bang from down the hall, followed by strangely familiar heavy footsteps. Another bang sounded, this one much closer and louder than the last, and that was finally enough to make Jaskier open his eyes again.

“Let him go,” The witcher growled, his golden eyes dangerously furious.

‘Oh no,’ Jaskier thought in his delirium, ‘He looks really mad at me…’

The man holding the knife into Jaskier was so scared, his trembling hand let go of the bard’s hands, causing Jaskier to slump over limply across the bed. A moment later, Geralt was kneeling next to Jaskier, some blood splattered onto his night clothes. There was a deep emotion in the witcher’s eyes, and for the first time since they had met, Jaskier thought he looked rather scary.

“I…’m s-sorry…” He groaned out weakly, clenching his hand in a fistful of Geralt’s shirt. “T-tried… not t-to… w… wake you...”

The last thing Jaskier saw was Geralt’s golden eyes going wide in horror, as the world went dark.

#geraskier #angst #jaskier angst #Making the hard suffer #Is my favorite thing to do #Got bored in class and started writing #Literally started with “Jaskier groaned in pain as the dagger dug deeper” lmao #Feeling evil so I hurt the bad #It’s as simple as that #Drabble #ending is up to imagination #fanfic

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bigfan-fanfic · 2 years

Text

A Song at the Hearth (Reader x Geralt x Jaskier)

A sequel to A Song on the Air

Requested by Anonymous for Hello 👋 could i request a sequel to the Geralt x Jaskier x Reader fic where they fell in love with R's singing? Doesnt have to be nsfw, Id love to see them all domestic-y together when the pair drop by btwn their adventures

Jaskier hasn't yet told you of his new song.

He sings it when he feels particularly homesick - and you and Geralt are his home.

The song is a soft and sad ballad, of a man who met a beautiful spirit of air and mist and song, whose voice captured him, and ripped his heart from his chest to keep it for all eternity. A song of how every moment away from his love is torture.

He likes to think back to how he lucked out on becoming a part of your and Geralt's relationship, how he had been stunned silent by your singing, and how Geralt had growled in his ear in that gruff voice of his when he asked the bard in.

Jaskier had never been so empty of words. So lost. To see Geralt smile, and what's more, to see a genuine smile directed at him. To see the witcher relaxed, vulnerable, even. His shirt discarded and reclining on pillows while the herbalist played with his hair. Jaskier will never forget the moment Geralt shifted to rest his head in Jaskier's lap, and the herbalist draped himself over the bard's shoulders.

Never in the most decadent courts, never in the most passionate tryst, had Jaskier ever felt so loved. They hadn't done anything more than eat and feed each other and drink while reclining on pillows and pelts, but it was easily the most sensual night Jaskier had ever had.

Days passed in delirious happiness. Geralt hunted. The herbalist cooked and cleaned. Jaskier made himself useful where he could, but even with doing more than anyone would ask him to, he still found himself with hours of time to fill - hours to write and compose, to find and lose stanzas of great epics and create new ones on the spot. Time to sing with the herbalist and practice harmony with a master, albeit one not classically trained.

But perhaps the most wild thing he experienced was the free exchange of affection. He could pull Geralt in for a kiss whenever he wished, or be suddenly wrapped in an embrace with the herbalist. He could walk in after a while in contemplation and find Geralt giggling at the tickling sensation of some soothing ointment the herbalist had made being rubbed into his skin.

The Path awaited Geralt, however, and wanderlust once again claimed Jaskier with a passionate fever. He knew they must go but for the first time, felt bitter about the transient nature of things.

"Do not fret. You will return to me." was the only goodbye said.

"I leave my heart with you. You will keep it safe." was what Geralt offered in turn.

Jaskier preferred to end things with a kiss, and did so, with the herbalist, and with Geralt, realizing that he was leaving Geralt the man and lover with the herbalist and setting out on the Path with Geralt the Witcher.

But it was true. They returned, again and again, and each time they resumed the idyllic peace as though it had never left. As though all that existed in the world was the three of them.

Perhaps someday, Jaskier mused, there would come a time when they would grow weary of travel, and that great peace would claim them until the end of their days.

Perhaps there was something truly great about being with the ones you love, greater than coin or fame, or the immortality of song.

#jaskier x male reader #geralt x male reader #the witcher x male reader #the witcher x reader #x reader #witcher headcanons #headcanons

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