#geralt had to hold a baby once when he was helping a family out of a cart that had crashed so he could help lift it | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jay-arts-t · 10 months

Text

Sometimes I just like to think about what it could've been if Geralt had gotten Ciri right after Pavetta and Duny died. If Calanthe was so weighed down by grief she realizes she can't take care of Ciri. So she orders Moussack to go find Geralt to collect Ciri. Imagining Geralt in a random tavern somewhere in Temeria, slowly making his way up to Kaer Morhen for the winter as autumn is approaching. Him having a gut feeling he should head up early, he thinks it's because something is wrong with Vesemir so he's anxious to make it through. But Roach needs to rest and well, it wouldn't hurt to get some extra supplies for the winter. Certainly wouldn't hurt to get some extra booze so he has relief from Lambert's grating voice on his ears. Besides, he and Eskel can stay up late and drink to their hearts content up in his room like they used to sneak around when they were teens.

Then out of the blue he sees Moussack, and dread fills his entire body. He doesn't keep up with news outside of what Dandelion tells him. So when Moussack is telling him Calanthe is summoning him he's thinking "oh fuck, she's changed her mind and is going to execute me."

But Moussack reassures him he's not going to be harmed. Calanthe is asking for him because of his child surprise. And now Geralt is really worried. What happened to them? Are they okay? Are they hurt? Did they die? They're only a few months old, there's so much that could've gone wrong. So he agrees to go with Moussack.

Calanthe looks a mess when Geralt sees her. Eist is by her side as always, trying to comfort her. Pavetta and Duny are nowhere in sight and it's making Geralt extremely antsy. Calanthe tells him the news, her voice is hoarse from all the crying she's been doing. Geralt sympathizes with them, gives them his condolences. And then that's when he realizes "oh. OH. OH NO". Sure enough Calanthe tells him she can't take care of herself, how could she care for a baby. Geralt refutes telling her "they're your grandchild, I don't want to rip them away-" and Calanthe tells him then it's a girl. And for a split second his brain gives the helpful thought of "oh I have a daughter" and Geralt is having an internal meltdown right there in the throne room. But he can't refuse. His entire basis for not coming back and claiming her is because she has a family who cares about her. But now that family is saying that they can't care for her, not because they don't love her, but because they do. So Geralt agrees to take her.

The first time he meets her he is entirely captivated by how small and precious she is. The moment he holds her he feels overwhelmed with such a fierce protectiveness and he can't help but absolutely adore her. He is trying so hard to stay stoic and unemotional but the moment he's alone with Ciri back in that old tavern he'd been at he just holds her and smiles. If he'd been a normal man, he probably would've burst into tears by how happy he was. (he did later once she got settled into Kaer Morhen, when he and Eskel did end up drinking up in his room. They're talking about the usual things, and then he looked over to her in her makeshift crib and just started bawling. Eskel freaks out and asks him what's wrong and he replies "I just love her so much."... Yes Eskel teared up.)

Then he has to go through the lovely moments of "how the fuck do you raise a baby" which Vesemir watches with so much amusement. Geralt raided most of Kaer Morhen's library and Nenneke's office for books about parenting. (Kaer Morhen has none, unsurprisingly.) He eventually asks Eskel to go to Oxenfurt and grab Dandelion and any books about parenting, childhood development, psychology and women's health he can find. (He is DREADING eventually having The Talk with Ciri but he won't be unprepared.) Dandelion is completely awestruck with Kaer Morhen of course however, nothing shocks him more than seeing Geralt looking bone tired with a 5 month old baby wailing in his arms, trying to soothe her.

"uh... What ya got there, Geralt?"

"H e l p."

Where's Yennefer? What about Yennefer?? Geralt is hesitant at first to even tell Yennefer he has a kid. But she sends him a letter one day, asking him where he is now that it's coming up on spring. (Ciri's first bday!!! Yay!!!! Also oh gods planning a birthday?!?!?!?? That's a thing??????) So he does tell her, and she understandably to her character demands to see this child surprise. So again, sends Eskel on out (pls Geralt, he's your childhood best friend, not your errand boy.) to go get Yennefer. Yennefer storms through the main hall, not even acknowledging Lambert and Vesemir, and right up to Geralt. How did she manage to find her way through the halls without ever being there before? Geralt doesn't know and he's scared by it. Yennefer spots Ciri, who's doing her tummy time. To which she's very fussy about and gives the nastiest glares an almost 1 year old can to her father. Yennefer is absolutely gobsmacked that Geralt was being genuine. She points to Ciri, then to Geralt, then back to Ciri, to Geralt.

"YOU?????? HOW????"

"I'm really bad at making jokes."

Yennefer adores Ciri, but Ciri is a little skeptical of her. Who is this strange woman????? Where is her dad?????? Where's her other dad (Dandelion)???? How dare she smell nice and be warm???? Ugh as if she'd let her feed her!!! No way! Yennefer is always completely drenched with baby food whenever she attempts to feed Ciri. Geralt tries so hard not to laugh at her. Ciri is absolutely seething by the end of it and is only contained when Geralt picks her up and holds her securely. Then it's like little devil Ciri never existed, she's all smiles and babbling happily to her dad. Yennefer gets really disheartened over it. Late at night she ends up crying over it, thinking it wouldn't matter if she was able to have kids or not; Ciri proves she'd be a horrible mother anyway. Geralt doesn't know what to say at first, but he knows it's not true. Yennefer is trying her best, it's just that Ciri is really fussy. She even fusses sometimes when Dandelion holds her. He tries to comfort Yen, and ends up deciding the best thing to do is hold her and tell her that she's doing amazing. He doesn't think she believes him because she's still got a very somber look on her face the next day. She becomes reluctant to take up care of Ciri because of the incident. Well about after the third day of this Ciri gets fussy again. Geralt is taking a well deserved nap day. He's back in his room snoozing away. Yennefer and Dandelion are with Ciri in the library, one of the warmest places in the keep. Dandelion wipes his hands of the ink that stains them and picks her up and checks if she's soiled. She isn't, so he asks if she's hungry. She thrashes around in his hold and turns in search of Yennefer and starts grabbing towards her. So Dandelion hands her over to Yen. The moment Ciri's resting against Yennefer she settles down.

"huh, guess she just wanted her mommy." Dandelion comments and Yennefer starts crying. (Dandelion's face morphed from aww to OH FUCK)

The bigger Ciri gets the more rambunctious and energetic. Geralt couldn't be prouder that they're all raising her to be genuine to herself and that they've broken the generational trauma. Vesemir pats Geralt on the shoulder one day and tells him "I'm proud of you, Wolf" and damn, if that doesn't make him want to cry. He doesn't of course, only meeting Ciri made him cry from joy. And oh how she gives Lambert a run for his money. It's hilarious to see a 60-something year old argue with a 4 year old. They get into the most stupid arguments too. "blue is better than red!" Or "I'm taller than you" which is the most absurd because it's always Ciri who starts it. Geralt thinks it's because Lambert is the shortest besides Vesemir. But Vesemir has only become short due to his old age, and Ciri already gives him a hard time for that. ("Why are you so fat and old? Aren't you a Witcher like Daddy?" She said once and Vesemir just paused and looked at her like "why would you say that to me". She burst into a giggle fit at his crushed expression.)

The argument will always, without fail, go:

C: I'm taller than you.

L: no you're not? I'm 5'11!

C: well I'm 8 feet tall!!!!

L: more like 2 feet tall!

C: NO! SEE

Then she'll stand on the chair so she towers over Lambert.

L: fine well I'm older.

C: no??? My birthday is first

L: NO ITS NOT?

C: YEAH IT IS

L: NO APRIL IS BEFORE MAY. AND IM 67, YOU'RE 4

C: uhhhhh I hate to break it to you, but no you're not. You've been lied to your whole life.

L: W H AT WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE????

C: uhmmmmm god.

Then when Coën finally meets one of the Wolves and comes up to Kaer Morhen he's shocked to see someone so young. At the time Ciri was around 7. She calls him ugly and walks away to the stables. Coën is just left flabbergasted while Lambert and Eskel are laughing their asses off. Geralt apologizes to him, while trying to hold in his laughter. Coën becomes like an older brother to Ciri, and he gets on her good side by helping her prank Lambert.

When Ciri hits 12 she does get her period, and Geralt is like "OH GOD OH FUCK HOW DO I TALK TO HER ABOUT THIS I DONT WANT TO MAKE IT-" and Yennefer walks into the room and goes "I told her, we're good."

Then comes the "boy talk" Where Ciri brought up that a character in a romance book was attractive and Geralt went into "No one is good enough for my baby girl" dad mode and brashly announced "you're not allowed to date boys until you're 21."

Yennefer slaps him on the arm and Ciri looks at him almost offended.

"jokes on you I don't even know if I LIKE boys. Maybe I just like this character's personality." She replies sassily. Geralt cannot argue with that logic. (And yes 2 months later, she goes on a day trip with Yen and talks to a girl her age. She comes back and Geralt asks her how it went and she says "I definitely like girls." And walks up to her room to take a nap. Geralt celebrates as soon as she leaves "YES!!! I DON'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT SOME BRUTE MESSING WITH MY DAUGHTER FUCK YEAH" Yennefer reminds him that some women are just as bad and he crumples to the floor in agony. Now he has to worry about brutish women hurting his daughter.)

Essentially, I just love that Geralt has a daughter, and that he's so proud of her and loves her so much. Their relationship is just so 🥹❤️ I adore them.

199 notes · View notes

harukaprism · 2 years

Text

The Ragnvindr family

Pairing: Diluc x F!Reader featuring Razor and Bennett

Word Count: 1,642

Dawn's notes: I just love the idea of Diluc adopting all of the Mond kids

Before you had personally met Diluc you had joined the Adventure Guild and befriended a very very young Bennett, the older members had adopted him and being that you normally ran errands for them you were always around him. Then you met Diluc, fell in love and married. You stayed close to Bennett and his best friend Razor as well.

You had been running your commissions late today while Diluc was at the winery, you were nearby which was nice; you were just cleaning up dealing with some slimes which was no big deal if it had not been raining. As your sword stuck the last slime you watched it explode now just leaving a mess.

"Darling!" That was Dilucs voice which surprised you. Turning around you saw your husband, wet hair plastered to his face and weighing down the mop of hair he had.

"Diluc? What are you doing here? I'm just finishing my last commission." Tilting your head you could only guess as to why he showed up and looked like he was in a rush. Then you saw the face of a member of the Adventures Guild.

"It's Razor and Bennett, no one has seen them since Bennett went on a commission and Razor went with him." Okay now you were in a bad mood as a feeling settled uncomfortably in your stomach.

"Where Geralt?" Keeping your sword in your hand you started to walk towards the men, everything bad was going through your head, what could be happening to them, where were they, and of course were your babies okay?

"Just past Wolvendom!" The man said and with that Diluc and you took off running.

Not a single word was said between the two of you, it was obvious what the plan was. Go to where they were, kill anything and everything that was holding them back and head back to the Winery with them. Not that many people knew but when you got married you told him that Razor and Bennett were attached at your hip and followed you around like lost puppies, they were basically your sons, Diluc was a but nervous about it at first naturally, but he slowly came around to having the two boys around and even helped in training them in the small amount of spare time he had.

Once the two of you reached the small area that was pointed out you saw a scene that filled your blood with venom. Treasure holders were holding a very limp Bennett up by his hair. "We thought you Adventure Guild brats would have more on you. This is honestly just pathetic."

The young boy didn't make any moves to fight the man which was concerning. He was all bloody and you could faintly see the rising and falling of his chest and Razor was groaning which was a good sign. "Diluc, are you ready?" Your husband only nodded, you stepped out into the clearing. "You know gentleman, you really shouldn't touch those who do not belong to you."

Raising your sword you pointed it at the group of men, calling upon your vision and the winds themselves. Letting the wind whip around you as your vision flashed to life; the blessing of Barbatos himself. Your vision called forth wind swords that you could control, but the next part that was coming up was your favorite.

"You scum." Your husband spat as he lifted his claymore, you could feel the heat of his vision as he essentially lit the swords around you on fire. Rushing forward with Diluc you charged the men letting the wind and fire do their work. You loved fighting with Diluc, he trusted you to have his back and he always had yours.

Once the men had been dispatched you looked at the two boys laying on the ground. "You take Razor, I'll carry Bennett." Lifting the silvery haired boy you got him positioned on your back.

As Diluc carried Razor in his arms the two of you were quiet as you started on the walk home. It was nice, obviously not the part where your boys were hurt of course, but it was like a little family adventure.

"Sorry my bad luck got you and Master Diluc involved." Bennett mumbled into your shoulder as his grip on you tightened.

"Bad luck? Benny, you don't have to apologize for that. You two were hurt and needed help, we just happened to be close." Not a total lie, you were close but still a bit away. Giving a quick squeeze to his legs you nuzzled his head with yours. "Don't apologize for things you couldn't control. And looking at your wounds you took care of most of them and Razors too, good job."

Once the four of you were in the safety of the winery you set Bennet down and fell to your knees. "Let me see." Your eyes and hands ran over the boy's injuries, luckily the ran had cleaned off most of the dirt but they still needed a bath. "I think you'll survive, but you both need a bath and a fresh change of clothes."

“You should have seen the last move I did! I used what Master Diluc taught me to deal a good blow.” His mood seemed to have lifted as you walked.

“Oh yeah? Tell me, did my husband teach you that you needed to stretch out and do yoga after you use some of the moves he’s showed you?” Glancing over at your redheaded husband who refused to meet your eye. “Figured not.” Letting out a small giggle you held the young boy close and continued your walk in silence.

Adeline and the other maids that helped out joined the four of you, Diluc had them take the boys to the bath and get them changed. You walked to your bedroom grabbing some of the fluffiest towels to dry off. “I’m just glad the boys are okay.” You handed one to Diluc and started to take off your clothes.

After the boys had been mostly taken care of and you were cleaned up, you sat at your vanity doing your skin care routine while Diluc showered. The pitter patter of feet against the hardwood brought a smile to your face. “Everything okay Razor?'' Looking at his red eyes through the mirror your heart melted. You loved these two boys so much, you never really talked to Diluc about having kids yet but you didn’t really need to when you had these teenagers running around.

“I agree, though they would have been fine without us but I am glad the guild thought to come grab us.” You watched as he let the thick ponytail fall out and fall to his shoulders. He ran the towel through his hair trying to dry it. “I’ll make sure no severe injuries are on them and if there is anything worrying we will take them to The Deconeness to heal.”

You simply gave him a nod as you worked on drying off your skin. “Sounds good. I’ll take a shower after the boys." The two of you sat relaxing your bodies, and you with your mind. The boys were safe, your husband was safe and everything was fine.

“What are you doing?” He watched curiously as you beckoned him closer. He looked better now that he had been cleaned and changed into some warm dry clothes.

"My nighttime routine. Want me to do it to you too?" You turned to face him with a smile, holding out your hand. Soon Bennett joined the two of you as they crammed onto your vanity chair. You put headbands on them to keep their hair back and out of their faces.

You were so focused on what was going on with the boys that you didn’t notice that a certain redhead had finished his shower and was watching everything. You only noticed when he tried to stifle a chuckle when you mentioned that one of your serums is sticky.

Slowly you worked on cleaning their faces with your cleanser and then moisturizing their faces. Of course they both bunched their noses up when the cool moisturizer met their skin but they seemed to be enjoying it. “Smells good.”

Letting out a giggle you put the moisturizer on yourself, the three of you sat there as they asked you questions about all of your products; you were happy to explain what they all did and how they benefited your skin.

When you met the eyes of your husband it melted your heart. His cheeks had a slight blush, had anyone who did not personally know him looked they would miss it but not you, you saw how he was throwing basically heart eyes at you and the two boys.

“Okay boys, I think it’s time you get to bed.” They offered no objections as their little bodies made their way to the spare bedroom.

“Maybe we should have children.” Diluc said surprising you. “I don’t know if you are ready-”

“Diluc, I like having those two as our kids for now.” Placing a kiss on your husband's cheek you crawled into your large bed and once he followed you and wrapped you up into his arms you both promptly fell asleep.

Just a normal day in the Ragnvindr family home.

Once the sun rose and woke you two of you made your way downstairs, Diluc started breakfast as you started your morning yoga, once the sound of the boys waking up you debated stopping and helping Diluc cook but you watched as Bennett walked up to him and started to help cook; listening very diligently to the instructions Diluc gave him.

Razor on the other hand, he sat on the second yoga mat next to you and stretched and followed your yoga routine.

476 notes · View notes

multific · 3 years

Text

Little One

Alpha!Geralt x Omega!Reader

Omegaverse!AU

Summary: After all of his friends moved on, Geralt used to be alone. But not anymore.

After settling down into the cottage, you and Geralt could finally relax.

It was nice seeing Geralt so calm. You were worried for your mate, as he was so used to always being on the move and fighting. Then suddenly one day he decided to just stop, it was very random but he saw the abandoned cottage as a sign.

And now, now you were expecting your first child.

Geralt took the potion he got and once he was only a human for an entire day, he didn't waste any time. He wanted to be sure his seed took. And it certainly did.

Now, here he was, worried beyond belief.

Protecting you from even a leaf.

Geralt made sure the house was perfect while you made sure the nest you built for your baby is perfect. It was made out of the softest clothes and feathers. You even sew pieces of cloths you found around the house for a blanket.

Geralt loved watching you build your nest. He couldn't wait until your baby will finally be there. Geralt watched your stomach grew day after day, his Witcher senses coming in handy, he heard the baby's heart beat as strong as it should. And his Alpha side, that side was so proud and nervous at the same time. Proud that his Omega was filled with his child and nervous because he didn't know anything about children.

You had to reassure your Alpha that it was okay, and that will be okay. But that didn't mean that Geralt didn't spend nights thinking about it.

But on the night your Little One decided to finally arrive, Geralt was sleeping like a log. He had been up all day preparing the newest stable he built for Roach. So now, he was exhausted, snoring as he slept.

You woke up to an uncomfortable pain in your stomach. You thought your baby was only kicking, but a few minutes later, the pain hit again, this time it was stronger.

You heard that labour could go on for hours even days, so you got out of bed and decided to walk a little, not wanting to wake Geralt up unless it was time. It was rather chilly outside but you had a warm blanket around you.

"What are you doing?" Geralt asked when he found you sitting outside on a bench. "It is time, isn't it? I feel you are in pain, Omega. Is it the child?"

You only nodded and Geralt moved to be next to you, his hand on your stomach, he trained months for this, to help you give birth. Yet, here he was, nervous as a child, but he didn't let that show. You'd feel it too and he didn't want that, you are going through enough as is.

"Let me know when it's time and we will go inside, I don't think the cold helps here."

"I-I know, Alpha, it's just... I'm scared." you admitted as you moved closer to him and hugged him.

"I know. But it will be okay, My Omega. I'm here, and I will help, just like we practised." Geralt was overwhelmed with feelings. Witcher's were not supposed to feel anything yet here he was. Having to not only have his feelings inside but also yours.

You nodded and let out a deep sigh.

An hour later, both of you moved into the house, sitting by the warm fireplace, you let out long, deep breaths.

"I think...It's time." you told Geralt who stopped gathering things he will need and moved over to you.

"Okay. Let's push."

---

The cries of your baby were something you were relieved to hear. You felt disgusting, covered in sweat, but it was over. You finally have your child.

"You did so well, Y/N. It's a boy." Geralt said as he cleaned up his son.

"Let me hold him." you stretched out your arms and Geralt gave him to you. "Hello, Little One. You are so beautiful." While you focused on the baby, Geralt cleaned you and the room up before moving to help you to bed again.

Your baby was perfect. Had a head full of hair, beautiful blue eyes, which you learned was the same colour as Geralt's eyes were before he became a Witcher

Your Alpha was holding you in his arms while you held your son. It was a moment of pure love. Just as the sun came up, your little family was perfect.

"What should we name him?" you asked.

"Darin." Geralt answered.

"Darin." you said testing the name. "Our little Darin." you smiled and looked at the baby who was now sleeping.

You felt Geralt tighten his hold around you as he thought back to the day he met you. Although the two of you had a rocky start, both of you were now finally happy.

Just as everything should be the Alpha found his Omega, two souls finally one.

The End

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this little series! Read the other parts here.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway @fleursirvart v-2bucky ehsebastiancrunch-time-sports @pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmilersmexylemony @greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd@thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @avengers-r-us @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster celebsimagine@capsiclesdoll snoopy3000 @firstangeldragonranch @puknow crazzyter @alwayshave-faith @soleil-dor @alex12948 scream-kiwi79 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl

~Masterlist~

The Witcher Masterlist

ˇAO3ˇ

My taglist is open!

Feedback is greatly appreciated. Thank You for reading my story!~

1K notes · View notes

havenoffandoms · 3 years

Note

can you do “I may have accidentally sort of adopted five goats.” geralt and reader? tysm! x

Thanks for the ask :D Sorry if it’s short, but it’s super fluffy and cute. I had a lot of fun writing it. I hope you enjoy <3

Prompt: “I may have accidentally sort of adopted five goats.”

Warnings: None. This is pure fluff. There’s like one swear word. That’s it. Also, Geralt’s nickname for reader is inspired by @queenxxxsupreme‘s characterisation of him in her very cute reader insert fics. Go check them out! Geralt will be so pissed, you just know.

As you stare at the exhausted goat and her four kids eagerly draining their mother of her milk, you can’t help but coo in utter adoration. Yes, Geralt will be pissed, but how can you resist? Mama goat looks exhausted as she lays sprawled on her side, her breath coming in short panicked bursts. She’s staring at you with wide fearful eyes, clearly debating whether she should muster the strength to run away from you or risk a strange human taking her babies away. You do your best to reassure her, whispering soft praises to the struggling animal, but refraining from touching the baby goats just yet.

Realistically speaking, there’s no room in your life for a family of goats, no matter how cute they are. Following Geralt around on the Path is tiring enough as it is without having to look after a flock. Geralt may have forgiven one goat, but not five. Just as you convince yourself that the best course of action is to leave the goats be, mama goat gives a weak bleat from her, a sound that tugs at your bleeding heart. She won’t survive another week in the wild, away from her flock. The nights are getting colder, and she’s dangerously close to the forest, where wolves and other predators roam. Mama goat and her kids make for very easy prey indeed.

You can already hear Geralt’s chastising voice in your head. It’s the way of nature, predators hunt prey, prey gets eaten. Yes, that is the way of nature, and deep down you know that. But it doesn’t have to be, not on your watch. You look back at Roach, who’s eyeing you warily. Just like her master, she knows exactly what you’re up to and she’s judging you for it. The cart attached to Roach, who has been demoted to a draught horse on your way to Kaer Morhen for the winter, would provide an excellent shelter for the goat family. You think that if you wrap them up in warm blankets, they might make it to the keep alive.

Now, as you wait for Geralt to return to camp after a quick trip in the nearby forest to hunt your dinner, you wonder how you’ll convince him to let you keep the goats. You know that it’ll be impossible to hide them from him. His keen senses of hearing and smell will instantly pick up on the intruders. You need to come up with arguments that will convince Geralt of the usefulness of these goats once you make it back safely to the witchers’ keep. It’s admittedly very hard to think at all with goat kids sniffing at your hand curiously and licking the salt off your fingers with their tiny tongue. You coo again, making kissing noises with your lips to attract the little goats’ attention. Mama goat seemingly decided that you’re no threat, and is now resting peacefully by your side while her babies gallivant around you. One particularly brave one jumps onto your hunched back, mouthing at your hair insistently despite your futile attempts to stop it.

“Get off me! Shoo, get down!”

Roach huffs irritably when one of the goat kids prances around her legs, but remains otherwise unperturbed. You eventually managed to rise to your feet and rid yourself of the adventurous goat. A beaming smile plays on your lips as you watch the little flock move around the clearing, never straying too far from their mother. You’re so lost in the scene that you fail to notice Geralt step out of the woods, two rabbits dangling from his belt. You start when you feel his hand rest on your hip.

“Melitele, Geralt, you scared the shit out of me!”

A warm chortle rumbles in his chest.

“Didn’t mean to, dove.”

You turn around in his embrace and offer a wide smile in greeting, before rising to your tiptoes and placing a delicate kiss to his cheek. His lips twitch into a shy smile and his amber eyes shine brightly as they gaze softly at you. The moment, however, is interrupted by one of the tiny goats chewing on his already worn boots. Geralt hisses his disapproval before gently nudging the goat away from him, but that doesn’t dissuade the reckless thing, who squeaks indignantly at Geralt for his efforts and headbutts Geralt in the shin. You can’t bite back a giggle at the sight.

“I think I’ll be calling you Bumper,” you announce proudly, kneeling by the newly named Bumper and gently scratching him behind the ear. You hear Geralt huff over you.

“Don’t name them. That’s one way to get attached.”

“Yeah, about that,” you rise to your feet once again, and before Geralt has a chance to escape your embrace, you wrap your arms around his neck and place featherlight kisses on his lips, cheeks, nose, and every other part of his face you can reach. You can feel his resolve crack as he melts in your embrace.

“I may have accidentally sort of adopted five goats.”

“Y/N,” he groans, unable to hide his exasperation, “how do you accidentally adopt five goats?”

“Doesn’t matter how,” you insist, your kisses growing more heated as you press your body flush against his. The action pulls a small sigh from Geralt, and with each passing minute, you can feel him getting closer and closer to actually giving in. But the lingering tension in his shoulders tells you that you need to work him a little harder still. “They’re sweet. The mother is exhausted and skinny, she won’t make it through the end of the week. And if she’s gone, her babies have no chance of surviving.”

“That’s the way of-”

“I know, dear,” your hands come to rest on his shoulders as you leave a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along the sharp line of his jaw and down the length of his neck, nibbling playfully at the pulsing point, “but think about the benefits of having these goats up here. A supply of fresh milk every day, fibre for yarn…”

The tension in his shoulders slowly begins to loosen and you can’t bite back the satisfied smile. A small groan tumbles past Geralt’s lips as he grabs a hold of your arms and pulls you up for a heated kiss. You know you’ve convinced him, even though he hasn’t said a word yet. You’ve learned to read him like an open book over the years you’ve travelled with him.

“Is that a yes on the goats?” you ask as you two pull apart.

“Hm.” Your smirk widens at the resigned look on his face. The look in his eyes is fond and there’s the hint of a smile playing on his lips. “I’ve never been able to refuse you anything, dove.”

#geralt z rivia #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x y/n #geralt x you #the witcher x reader #the witcher x y/n #the witcher x you #fluff #prompt request #havenwrites

184 notes · View notes

lilith-of-rivia · 3 years

Text

The Bard’s Sister

Geralt X Reader

Part 2

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place Geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadn't seen since she was 5. The journey is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. This is still part of our introduction to the main characters and their personalities in this story. Next chapter will be more about (Y/N) and Geralt. I know I am trash at summaries.

I would like to state that I do plan on adding a pregnancy in the future to this story. (I know Geralt is steril. Just bare with me and the story line I’ve created) I just wanted to let eveyone know because I would hate for someone to get attached to the character and story only to have a plot line they do not like for themselves. I know not everyone like pregnancy plot lines but I’m such a sucker for dad!Geralt.

Trigger warnings: Cursing

Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader

Word count: 6,369

(Changed from 3rd to 1st person)

The sun was high in the sky, it was nearly two in the afternoon. The garden below the large windows of the castle was shining brightly. The birds chirping, children playing in the river that ran through the center of the city. Life was good. The sun was shining a little brighter today. It was because Jaskier was finally home.

I hadn’t realized how much I missed him till he was back. After breakfast, we walked around the castle’s courtyard. He and Geralt introduced me to their horses. To my pleasant surprise, Roach took a particular liking to me, as did her owner. He was nothing like the rumors. There were many times that I traveled out of our borders into the western part of the continent, and every time people had nothing but cruel fowl things to say about the poor witcher. Sure he wasn't perfect, but no one was.

“Would you like to see my studies?” I asked as we walked down the long corridors that lead to three separate staircases. I glanced between the two men that were on either side of me.

“Your studies?” Jaskier asked looking down at me. I couldn’t help but smile.

“I told you in my letter that I’ve been working with a man over the last couple of years. He has trained me well. But I have many books, drawings notes all sorts of stuff that I’ve written about the world outside of our home.” We approached the base of the three staircases.

“I’ve never seen a castle so big in my life.” Geralt’s sultry voice flooded my ears once again. I couldn’t help but smile up at him. He was so polite. He never turned his nose at us. I knew he didn’t have a very positive history with others like us. Yet he sent no judgment towards myself or my parents. He just listened, followed, and learned. I had never met someone so open to the world yet so closed off that the same time, and we’ve barely even begun to get o know each other.

“Our mines are some of the richest you’d ever see in your life. From coal to diamonds. Nearly 85% of all ores get mined and sent out to the rest of the continent.” I started walking up the staircase on the far left, the stairs led up a long corridor that was open and bright, the mountains that shielded us from the rest of the world in perfect view. Both were still by my side. I stopped at the first picture that hung on the wall.

“That’s my great-great-grandfather, he only recently passed but he started all of this.” I looked towards Geralt. He was listing intently, his eyes on me as soon as I looked in his direction. I knew Jaskier knew our history so I wasn't too worried if he was paying attention or not.

“He came here from Termieria with his 6 younger brothers. The mines here had been closed for many many years. The town was completely deserted. There was a serious necrophage problem that no one wanted to deal with, so they just up and left. Leaving the plentiful mines full for someone else.”

“Necrophages?” Geralt questioned his eyebrow tiling in curiosity.

“The people who inhabited the lands before we did, had not known of the creatures. Didn’t properly bury the dead. My grandfather wrote in his journal that when they got here the streets were lined with bodies that had been drug out of their shallow graves, crypts had been broken into. His best guess is that a flue came before the people fled, killing many in a short period.” I started walking ahead of the two men, down the hall towards my room. I pushed the door open walking in placing my books on the night table as they followed in slowly behind me. Their eyes wandered over every inch. Jaskier started wandering through the room looking at every picture on the wall. Most of them were sketches, mostly of him. Or the people he sang about in his ballads. He grabbed one off the wall and laughed softly.

“Who is this supposed to be?” I walked over to him and laughed softly, my cheeks turning a soft shade of pink.

“That, that uh was my first sketch of Geralt.” The sound of his name got his attention, he was trying to be polite and not snoop. Although I didn't care if he wanted to look around. He walked away from the door over to Jaskier and me. He lingered behind me, very close behind me. I could feel his body heat on my back and his warm breath on my face as he peered over my shoulder at the parchment Jaskier was holding.

“How old were you when you did this?” Jaskier asked.

“Eighteen, maybe nineteen. It was after your first balled about your adventures with Geralt that started to spread like wildfire. I went to a tavern one night with a friend and someone was singing it. I was intrigued by the song and asked them who they sang about. I was told they didn't write the song, our very own Prince had. So I listened to them play it over and over. I asked around the and so see if people knew what the famed witcher looked like. I got conflicting answers from nearly everyone I asked.” Geralt reached his arm over me, his hand gently brushing my arm, sending chills down my spine. His hand grasped the paper as he looked at it closely.

“They got the hair color right. That was about all. Some people have some very wild depictions that I drew, but none in any seriousness.” The particular one they were examining was nothing like Geralt. They got everything wrong but his hair color. Many people said he was a scrawny young lad with the strength of thousands of men, making him easier to blend in with the crowds. Granted this was very early on in my brother and the Witcher’s adventures together so not many people had paid close attention to the witcher.

“You drew what people described?” Geralt asked.

“Yes, some people tried to pay me but I told them to give it to the needy. I traveled with Serena for a couple of weeks right after I turned nineteen, we didn't venture far past the mountains but it was enough.” I couldn't help but frown at the memories of the people in the towns scowling and sticking their noses in the air when I asked about the Witcher and my brother.

“Can I see the other ones?” Geralt’s question took me by surprise.

“I don’t know…”

“Oh come on, you're very talented (Y/N), let him see them,” Jaskier said and shoved my shoulder playfully. I smiled softly at him but shook my head.

“It is not that I’m self-conscious of my work, it’s the depictions of Geralt outside of our Kingdom, for the most part, were cruel and inaccurate beyond belief. I only drew them because I was wasting their time asking questions. I honestly don't know why I kept them.” I nervously rubbed the back of my neck, the idea of Geralt seeing those ugly, horrendous, depictions of himself made my stomach turn. He didn’t deserve the hate he received. I never understood why people despised Witchers the way they did. I only experienced it outside of our kingdom. For some reason, whether it be our pure lack of monsters or the abundance of sunshine, my people seemed happier. Less judgmental than the outside world. I was grateful to live in such a kind and caring place, but it does get rather dull after a while.

“I’d still like to see them.” Geralt said softly as he handed the parchment back to me. I sighed slightly uncomfortable with the idea, I took the parchment and hung it back up on the wall.

“Let’s make a deal,” I said turning to them both.

“Oh boy.” Jaskier teased.

“I’ll show you the drawings if you let me paint you now, so I have an accurate model. Not just words.” Geralt’s eyes looked over me, his arms crossing over his chest. A small smirk formed over his lips as he watched me intently.

“If you want to draw me so bad, just ask dove.” The nickname nearly threw me off my feet. My heartbeat quickened at a rapid pace and I couldn't even look him in the eye. Jaskier snickered and pulled out a chair by my desk. He was enjoying this way too much. I cleared my throat swelling thickly.

“T-that I uh..” I had never been one to not have words. According to my parents, I talked too much. Just like my brother. Yet here I was gobsmacked and wordless. I grumbled under my breath moving to the desk Jaskier was sat at and made him move. He got up and I sat down. I opened the top hatch of the desk, lifting out folders and files of archives. Some containing spells, some more drawing, history of the continent, and even monster facts that I knew I wouldn’t ever need. I placed the folders on the floor. Jaskier grabbed a few and moved to my bed plopping himself down kicking his feet up. My head snapped over to him as he put his dirty boots all over my fresh linens.

“Jaskier. If you don't get your boots off my bed, I will castrate you.” I warned turning back around rummaging some more. I heard him kick off his shoes. Geralt chuckled behind me.

“Fiery are we.” He teased but I ignored him. Finally, at the bottom of all my work, I found the folder. I held it up to him, not wanting to watch his face as he looked at the disgusting depictions of himself.

“Thank you, dove.” His lip was right next to my ear. I felt frozen.

I couldn't tell if it was genuinely just a flirt or if this was directed to me. Sure I had heard the rumors of the witcher and his many women of the night, including the sorceress Yennefer. But this seemed different. I snapped back to reality when he let out a low chuckle. I turned around and stood up, peering over his arm to see what one he was looking at. This one was particularly nasty. His eyes were slanted like snake eyes, large fangs protruded out of his mouth, and his hair was a crazy mess. His eyes were blood red, his nose crooked from supposedly being punched so many times. His face was littered with so many scars he had scale-like skin. I remembered the man who gave me that description.

“I met this man in a tavern in Solveiga, it’s the furthest I've ever been from home.” Jaskier stood up walking over and looking at the drawing Geralt was studying carefully. I didn't know why he was spending so much time on such a cruel piece.

“He said you came through a few winters prior, he and a bunch of the townsmen had gathered some coins so you'd get rid of a Striga. I knew was lying the moment he opened his mouth.” Geralt looked up from the payment, his eyes meeting mine.

“Why do you think he's lying?” I took the folder from him, and just as I expected the parchment below the picture he was looking at was full of my notes. Every time I traveled and spoke to people about it. My brother or his companions took incredibly detailed notes, I never wanted to forget anything. I took the parchment out before handing him the folder back. I began to read the notes:

“This man takes me for a fool. No more than some silly girl. While he sits here and tells the tale of the Wolf he seems to be forgetting the incredibly important fact about Strigas, they only hunt during a full moon. He keeps saying that the beast was hunting their people every single night, slashing children, men, women, animals, every night for months. He’s using it to fuel the people's hatred of the witcher. He’s attempting to claim that they sent for him as soon as they knew of her presence. Claiming the witcher waited nearly three months before coming to discard the beast.” I flipped the page over scanning the meticulous notes.

“He said the beast was killed on a new moon, he said he remembers it so vividly because of the lack of moonlight while he escorted the witcher to her crypt. I may not be a witcher, but I am not stupid. The man is trying to make matters worse by lying through his crooked yellow teeth. How dare he tarnish a name for the sake of his prosperity.” Geralt chuckled at the last part making me look up at him, he had an amused smile on his face, his eyes twinkled as he looked at me.

“Why are you laughing?” I tilted my head to the side slightly and he just shook his head, putting the folder of parchment into the desk. He knelt and began picking up the rest of the folders neatly placing them inside the desk where they came from.

“Because you got so mad that someone lied about me, yet you at the time were not even sure I was a real thing-“

“Person.” I quickly corrected him. His eyes glanced at me, he didn't move his head as he continued placing my papers where they belonged.

“What?” He asked.

“You called yourself a thing, you're not a thing Geralt. You're a real living breathing person.” His eyes found my own again. My heart raced as he studied my eyes. I had never seen anything so beautiful. His eyes were like hot pools of gold and honey. The complexity of the colors was mesmerizing.

“And I wasn't only mad that he was lying about you, I was mad that he was lying in general. About something anyone could disprove if they just picked up a book on monsters.” I noticed the parchment with the drawing he was just looking at was on my bed. I grabbed it to put it back on the desk. Geralt's strong hand gently grasped my wrist stopping me. His other hand gently grabbed the parchment from my hand.

“I’d like to keep this one if you don't mind.” I looked at him shocked.

“Why that one?? Of all the ones I've done you choose one of the most inaccurate and the crudest?” It made no sense to me. Why did he want that? Was it some fun game of his to think he was just some stupid monster?

“Because it shows your talent in a way the others don't. And besides, you got my nose perfectly. No one can do that.” I sighed heavily not liking the idea of him possessing such a cured drawing that was drawn purely on lies.

“Fine. Keep it.” He smiled vicariously. I’d let him keep every single one if he smiled like that all the time. The smile quickly vanished when Jaskier came back over with the first file he took. The one he had been studying was full of my notes on herbology and alchemy.

“You are incredibly smart (Y/N), I felt as though I was reading Yennefer’s notes.” A huge smile spread across my face at his compliment.

“Thank you, Jax.” Geralt was now walking around my room, hands tucked under his arms as he studied the drawing and notes hanging on the walls. Some drawings were of monsters, some of the random people I’d met on my short travels, some maps I’d drawn up so I’d remember where I wanted to go when I had the chance.

“Your talent is very wide-ranging, little dove. I have to say I’m very impressed with your knowledge.” That blasted nickname nearly kicked me off my feet again.

I looked out my window noticing the sun was getting lower in the sky.

“If you'd like to get new clothes I’d suggest we do it now, it’ll be dark soon and the shops close earlier in the week.” Gertrude turned to me, nodding his head.

“Please. These pants are so tight I’m afraid I may lose my legs.”

We walked down the street. The sun was close to setting in the sky. The cool air kissed my bare chest as we walked. It was a comfortable silence between the three of us. For the first time in my life, I felt comfortable in silence. I hated the quiet with most people, it left room for negative thoughts, negative energies. Most times when it was unbearably quiet when I was present was because I was shut down from talking by the people around me. I know they meant no harm, I knew I had a lot to handle at times. I was just lonely. Board. I only had a few true friends. Most of the people I grew up with were married and with children now. I spent a lot of time alone, I liked being alone. It gave me space to think about the world. The world outside my small one.

We approached the seamstress, walking through the wood door. A small bell rang in as we entered. Hildi walked out from the back, a bright smile on her face. She was a sweet older woman, not much older than my mum. She had been running this shop for as long as I could remember. She was the best seamstress in the country in my opinion.

“Princess (Y/N)!! What a lovely surprise!” She walked around the counter and hugged me softly. Her hands-on the sweater I was in. She made it for me many years back for a birthday gift. She always had the best gifts. Full of love. I did adore the woman. Her attention turned to the men next to me. Her eyes grew bigger, her hand gently coming up to her chest.

“My gods. The rumors were true. Jaskier!! How wonderful it is to see you again!!” Her hands wrapped around my brother who hugged her back. I couldn't tell if he remembered her or if he was just being nice. As she released him she looked at Geralt who was visibly tense, scared that she may try and hug him.

“You must be Geralt of Rivia!” He nodded.

“Rain!! Get out here!! And bring me my Witcher’s guide!!” Geralt's eyebrows furrowed at the mention of the book. He shot me a glance and I just smiled. A few moments later Hildi’s daughter Rain appeared. She was my age. We knew each other in school. She was never nice to me. Picked on me. Would make jokes about Jaskier not being around. I never told anyone, in fear people would think I was nothing but a stuck up princess. Her presence made me uneasy. I slowly took a small step back, inching closer to my brother. Rain’s eyes landed on Geralt. I could practically see the drool pooling in her mouth.

“Gods save me.” She moaned out. I had to fight off the urge to cringe at her outward burst.

“The tales are true then?” She looked directly at me.

“So maybe you weren’t lying all these years.” I scoffed and rolled my eyes.

Hildi was very blind to her daughter's cruelness. After her husband passed away it was just her and Rain. She’d do anything for her. I understood that. She was a devoted mother and wife. I knew how heartbroken she was. She walked to Rain and took the book from her hand and grabbed a quill that had been dipped in ink. She turned to Geralt, a very soft smile on her face.

“Would you sign this for me?” His eyes bulged out of his head.

“Y-you want me to sight your book?” I held back a giggle at his shock. He truly wasn't used to being appreciated.

“Yes, please. If it is not too much to ask. Your stories were what got me through my husband’s death. Had it not been for the ballads and tales of your great bravery I may have not made it through.” Geralt’s shoulders softened at her words. He nodded his head and walked over to the counter. She opened the book to the first page and he scribbled down his name before giving her a soft smile. She gently placed her hand on his arm and squeezed.

“You are truly a great hero here Geralt. If our country had a mascot, you'd be it.” Jaskier chucked lowly at her comment making me swat the back of his he’d. He hissed in pain and looked at me. I glared at him.

“Do not ruin this for him,” I whispered.

Hildi turned her attention back to me and smiled.

“What can I do for you today my dear?”

“Well as you can see, Jaskier has a sore taste in fashion and also doesn’t understand sizing. I was hoping you could fit them in some better, more comfortable garments. Maybe a set of nice clothes for my party as well?” She gleamed. She hurried around her counter, grabbing a piece of parchment and measuring tape. She came back around and wasted no time in messing the two men. I sat down at a table by the window and watched as she rummaged through somethings in the back of her store.

“So you're like a real witcher?” Rain’s voice caught my attention. She was leaning over the counter, her dress pulled down, the cleavage of her breasts on clear display as she dumbly curled her blond hair in her fingers.

“No. I'm a fake one.” Geralt said back unamused.

“But like are the rumors true?” She asked leaning even further over the counter. She was trying so desperately hard to get him to look down her dress. But he was simply uninterested. I felt my heartburn with envy. I hated that it did. He wasn't mine, he was nowhere near it. But the thought of him looking at her like that made my blood boil.

“Rumors about what?” He took a step back from the counter slowly making his way over to where Jaskier and I were.

“Ya know. About your huge cock.” Jaskier and I both choked on our spit. My hand flew over my mouth to keep my laugh in. It was a good thing her mother’s hearing wasn't all that great. Geralt looked visibly uncomfortable. He sat down in the chair next to me, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. Jaskier and I were both trying to get ourselves under control after her question. She was completely unfazed. She thought she was hot shit.

“Common witcher. Tear me apart. Show me the real monster you can be.” That sentence made my grip on the chair so tight I thought I could’ve broken the arm in half. I probably could have if I did not have any self-control. I’m much stronger than I look.

“Do not call him that.” I hissed. My teeth were clenched so hard I was sure I was breaking them. Her eyes flicked over to me. She looked me up and down trying to size me up.

“Call him what? A witcher. Honey are you dumb. That’s what he is.” In a second I was inches from her face. I could feel my blood pumping thru my veins.

“Do not ever call him a monster again.” I was a bit shocked at how mean I sounded. I had never been this angry with her before. I wanted to punch her stupid smile in more than anything.

“(Y/N)..” I heard Jaskier’s voice behind me. He was very close to me. My hands were balled in fists at my sides. My knuckles were turning white with how angry I was.

“I promise you, studying princess, he's been called worse.” She smiled cheekily at me and her hand came up and she attempted to pat my face like I was a dog. My reflexes were much faster than she realizes. I grabbed ahold of her wrist in an intron grip. I began to squeeze and bend her wrist back away from my face. Her face contorted in pain. She wasn't expecting me to be as strong as I was.

“I said-'' I squeezed harder, and she gasped slightly as she tried to pull her hand away. “Do not call him that.” I threw her hand away from me before turning around and walking by the window. I hadn't realized both Jaskier and Geralt were standing behind me.

Moments later Hildi came out completely oblivious to the scene that just took place. She had a cloth sack filled with clothes and placed them on the counter.

“Alright, dearly that’ll be 45 coins.” She said as she wrote down the total in her book. I stood quickly pulling the amount from my coin purse and putting it in her hand. I smiled at her as best I could, Jaskier grabbed the bag of clothes.

“If something doesn’t go right, bring them back.”

“Thank you Hildi, very much.” Geralt said a charming smile on his lip. He gently shook her hand kissing the top of it.

“Thank you, Geralt. It was a pleasure meeting you. Don’t be a stranger.” She patted his cheek as a mum does. I turned on my heels and walked out of the shop. The cold air hit my hot face. My blood pumped slow and hard through my veins as the anger disappeared from my body. Jaskier came out of the shop and threw his arm over my shoulders leaning into me.

“Thank you.” He whispered lowly, Great not being very far behind us as we walked to the castle.

“For?”

“Defending him. Many people don’t realize how much he’s heard throughout his lifetime. I’m glad I’m not the only one who wants to help.” I turned to him and smiled. I leaned into his side hugging him gently before, turning around walking backward as I looked at Geralt.

“If you would like, I’ll show you both to your rooms, and you can change. We can then have tea in the garden and I can draw you.” A soft smile graced his lips, his eyebrow rising softly.

“You seriously want to draw me?” I nodded my head and stopped walking, but he didn’t. He kept getting closer and closer till he was a few inches from me.

“Yes, Geralt I do. You have a special spot in my heart, not just because I believe you are a true knight. And many people are just too scared to admit that, but also for keeping my brother safe all these years. You deserve to feel appreciated.” His features softened as his eyes searched my face before settling on my own eyes. His hand gently came up and he moved a small piece of hair from my face.

“A deal is a deal, little dove.” I felt as though my soul was being sucked out through his hand. Every fiber in my body wanted to pull him closer to me, to show him love, and tenderness. Something I knew he never actually had.

“Good, follow me,” I said with a smile.

After I showed them to their rooms; my brother’s old room not far from my own, and Geralt’s which shared a wall with my room, I went down to the garden. My easel, charcoals, and paints were set up on the table as they came down from changing and freshening up. Geralt looked more beautiful in clothes he could breathe in. his attire was so simple yet he made it look like the finest silks and jewels. It was a soft cotton button-down, it was loos on him, his pants were tight, but in a way that allowed him to move and feel free. I could tell by the way he walked he felt much more comfortable and in his element.

“You look like you feel better,” I said with a smile. Even Jaskier changed. A white shirt. And some black pants. He looked as he always did when I was a kid. The obscene choices in fashion were only adopted after he left home.

“I do.” I plainly said, a small smile on his lips. He and Jaskier sat down and I poured them tea. They both snacked on a few fruit tarts while I began sketching the background of the garden. allowing them to eat and not have to sit still just yet.

“So...while I draw maybe you could both share a story?” I glanced behind my paper and looked at the two. Jaskier smiled and leaned back into his chair fixing his hair and popping open a few buttons for the portrait.

“What story do you want to hear?” Geralt asked. Leaning back, his shoulders relaxing, a small piece of hair fell from the bit that he had tied back. It looked deliciously messy. It made him look disheveled, nearly like he was right out of bed.

“Wait!” I yelled and grabbed his hand gently, pulling his hand back softly.

“I like it. Keep it.” his hand went back down to his leg to rest. His eyes watched me for a few minutes. I studied their faces beginning my base sketches.

“What story shall we tell her Geralt?” Jaskier asked as he closed his eyes and tilted his head back to the sky, the last of the light kissing his skin.

“We could tell her about the Djinn?” Geralt said back, glancing at Jaskier before looking back at me, a coy smile on his face.

“A Djinn?? I’ve only ever read myths about them. You encountered one?” My curiosity was blossoming, the urge to get more details about the creatures I had been taught about.

“Geralt here was going onto day gods knows what on no sleep. He was beyond grumpy.” Jaskier tilted his head back up and looked at me with a smirk.

“The git said my singing was like a pie with no filling!!” I couldn’t hold back my laugh. It was much louder than I wanted, not very ladylike at all.

“Oh… I may have to steal that one.” I said in between giggles, whipping my eyes.

“I was hoping to use a wish from the Djinn to help me sleep. But unfortunately, your brother got in the way.” As Geralt spoke I moved into his details on his face, my eyes traveling all over his beautiful face. From the way, his brows arched to the cute little dimple on his chin. His face was beautiful. Some scares were prominent enough that I could see them if I looked hard enough he had one on his cheek, it looked newer than all the others, the skin being a bit lighter than the rest of his skin.

“What did he do this time?”

“He decided that because I told him I no longer appreciated his singing that he would take the Djinn away from me till I took back what I said.”

“And let me guess, you didn’t take it back?” I glanced at him from behind my easel, he was watching me closely, his eyes slanted like he was studying a pray.

“No. No, he didn’t. And I almost died!” Jaskier shouted dramatically causing my eyes to drift from Geralt over to him.

“Don’t be dramatic Jaskier,” I mumbled, putting down the charcoal I had been using. Now turning my attention to the paints I had in front of me. I started mixing the colors Id need for Geralt’s skin tone.

“No, this time he’s right. He did almost die. Unfortunately for Jaskier, he refused to let go of the vase the Djinn was in. While we tugged on it, the lid came off. Maybe the Djinn knew I was a witcher and its curse wouldn’t work on me, or maybe it was just annoyed at Jaskier. Either way, it attacked him.” My eyes were focused on the painting, brows furrowed as he spoke. I waited a moment for him to continue but he didn’t.

“I’m listing Geralt, please continue,” I said my eyes moving to his, the colores pooling in my head as I prepared for what pigments id be using to paint them.

“I don’t want to interrupt.” I shook my head a soft smile on my face.

“I will,” Jaskier said as he sipped his tea, looking at me.

“The Djinn attacked my throat. Made it swell, I was coughing up blood.” My painting stopped as I looked at him. My stomach sank a little as he spoke. I knew Jaskier had been put in harm’s way before but hearing the first-hand accounts made my stomach ache.

“Geralt took me to an elven healer that wasn’t too far from where the river bed was. Unfortunately for me, he couldn’t help me. But he knew of a mage that could help.” My hand started to paint again, filling in the sketch with colors on Jaskier’s face as he spoke.

“We can skip over those details Jaskier.” Geralt huffed crossing his arms over his chest.

“Why? Don’t want my baby sister knowing that we had to sit threw an entier orgey just for you to speak to the mage?” Jaskier snickered looking away from me to his friend,

“Jaskier, shut up.” Geralt grumbled. His eyes avoided my own when I went to look at him.

“An orgey?” I had heard the word but hadn’t ever fully understood what it was.

“What’s that?” I questioned looking at my brother. His head fell back as he cackled.

“Oh dear sister how you’ve been so sheltered from the world.” My cheeks flushed red at his words.

“Jaskier don’t be rude,” I mumbled grabbing a fine liner brush from my pile. Adding some final detail into Jaskier’s blue eyes.

“It’s when a very large group of people get together in one room and have sex.” The blood rushed to my head at his words. I could feel my ears turning red. My brother was right. I had been sheltered about sex in my family. I didn’t have friends who I could talk to it about, and never really had anyone in my life I was willing to have sex with.

Unlike many women my age I never viewed my virginity like a sacred rose that no one could touch, I just wanted it to be lost to someone who deserved it. No someone I was forced to allow to deserve it.

“Oh look at how red she is.” Jaskier snickered standing up and poking my sides. I smacked his hands away glaring at him. He was now able to see the nearly completed painting. All I had left was my Geralt’s eyes and some details in his hair.

“Gods (Y/N), this is amazing.” He whispered his hand on my shoulder. I smiled softly, swallowing the spit that had gathered in my throat thickly.

“Thank you, please sit down and continue your story.” Jaskier did as I asked.

“The mage was Yennefer. She helped me. Saved my life. The mage and I may not get along, but I do owe her my life.” I smiled softly as he spoke of the mage I had heard so much about.

“I’ll be sure to thank her myself if I ever come across her,” I said with a smile. My attention turned back to Geralt who didn’t look please at the topic of our conversation. His eyes were on his leg that bounced slightly. He was anxious.

“Geralt love, I cannot see your eyes. That’s nearly all I have left.” At the sound of my voice, his head tilted up so he could look at me in the eye.

I smiled sweetly at him. I broke eye contact as I added in the different hues of orange and a bit of red. Some gold flecks showed themselves in his inner iris. The depth of the color was so enchanting. I could paint just his eyes forever. I finished with his hair after a few minutes of silence. Both men just enjoying the warm afternoon air. They both looked relaxed, peaceful, safe even.

“I’ve finished, boys,” I said whipping my hands on my apron. I stood up and turned the easel around to the two. They both sat up straight, eyes wandering all over the painting.

“You, my dear sister are beyond talented.” Jaskier mused looking at me, a bright smile on his face.

“We both are.” I smiled at him. Geralt was still examining the painting, his eyes flicking over every inch of himself. I couldn’t tell if he was pleased or not. It made me nervous.

“I know the hair isn’t perfect. I’m still trying to get the brush technique down-”

“It is perfect.” Geralt interrupted me, a smile on his face as he looked at me.

I smiled back at him, my heart beating a little quicker.

“Can I keep it?” Geralt asked.

“Seriously?” I asked him.

“Well, actually it’s probably best you keep it. I don’t have a home, so I wouldn’t want to ruin it…” I smiled softly, taking a step closer to him.

“I’ll keep it safe but if you ever have a place that you want to keep it, ill get it to you,” I said, softly stroking the stray strand of hair behind his ear. His face tilted up as he looked at me.

“I think I’m going to turn in for the night boys,” I said gathering my items in my hands.

“What about dinner?” Jaskier asked.

“I’ll grab something from the kitchen, I’m quite tired. I need a bath. I’ll see you both in the morning.” I said hugging Jaskier goodnight. I turned to Geralt, courage surging through my veins. I bent down and placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight Geralt.” His cheeks turned a very, very soft shade of pink, but only for a moment. Our eyes locked again.

“Good night, dove.”

309 notes · View notes

charmed-asylum · 3 years

Text

RUMOR HAS IT

DARK STEVE ROGERS X OC MINI FIC

Reqested by @sage1998c request: Hi I was wondering if you would please consider doing a dark Steve high school au story starting Kat Graham as the main oc/face claim. I would really appreciate it if you would think about it.

WARNING: ALOT OF CRAZY SHIT!!! I never did a dark fic I am going to miss a few but let start with the basics NO ONE UNDER AGE OF 18 SHOULD READ THIS. BLACK MAIL/ SEX/ YANDRE/ RECORDING OF SEX WITHOUT SHARE AGRREEMENT/ ETC ETC

SUMMERY: Life was perfect for American boy, aka Steve Rogers. Great friends, hot cheerleader girlfriend, love and adore by everyone. Everything was perfect till senior year when Angelina came around and an anonymous gossip column, Rumor Has It, threatening to expose everyone's dirty laundry.

~ MASTERLIST~

SNEAK PEEK // Angelina OC

TAGGED: @geralt-jaskier20 @hypersonicxd-blog @muralskins @readermia @muralskins@david-winters-93@alagalaska @SAGE1998C

Thick FOG COVERED Rear WINDOWS of his navy blue 1967 Chevy Camaro. A deep moan came from his mouth as he digs deeper into her wet centerfold. His colossal hand holds tighter to her tiny neck, trying to take all his thoughts else were. “OHHHH FU FUCK. HARDER,” Jane shout from behind his thick fingers. His eyes squeeze tighter; he was close still but so far. Think think think of something Peggy beast No. Jane wet means you sure hit new heights with her. She is enjoying it. He opens his ocean blue eyes and gazed back at Jane; her back was arched, moving closer to his cock. Trying to get more. Greedy bitch.

He couldn’t wait until he was destroying her. By the end of her fifth orgasm (pushing her fourth ), she would know to never mess with him again. She ends this fuckin blog once together. Finally, end his bad luck streak. All this was messing with him mentally and psychically. Maybe after this, he can finally get in with Angelina. Fuck now; she was a piece of art. Body carve from god himself. He thought Peggy was an angel, his perfect dame, but then Angelina came back into his life. Right when he needed her. It’s been forever since he saw her. Just then, Jane let at whining cries for him. That and imagining it Angelina and her virgin pussy finally help him release. God, that’s it, he thought to himself. It has been happening a lot. Lately, he felt he was in love. He knows it even though he is young. No matter what it is, he was thinking about her. He can’t sleep, eat, think.

Whenever he had a chance to stop thinking of her, it’s about this FUCKING BLOG. RUMORS HAS IT. STUPID SHIT! It already got a few of his friends, and even though he is unstoppable invisible. His fears he was going to be next. That’s why Jane has to be the person behind it. No one else knows Thor secret besides him, Thor and his family, her, and that child’s family. So stupid. So Thor was involved in an accident and drunk and got a child in a fucking coma. With one peek at the camera, he stares back at the feedback, good he is still out of frame.

Jane utters another whimper. Almost there, he thought to himself. Jane’s sparkling baby pink cat claw nails scratch deep into his pecks and across his ample shoulders. The sight of her nail polish reminds him of a dress Angelina once wear. The last time he saw her, matter of fact, was 12 years ago. She was only three years younger than her. He can taste the chunky chocolate chips that melted into the cookies. He can hear the playful voice she uses when she would pretend to play house. He was daddy, and she was mommy. No matter what he did, she always looked up at him like he was god-like. He was the only one who could ever make her feel safe. Even as a weak, pathetic boy like him. Maybe she was that high he felt once and had been trying to get ever since. He can remember like it was yesterday when they share their 1st kiss. She wanted it; she kisses him sweet dreams of a cloud 9 type of kiss. He would have relished that kiss if he had any common sense instead of screaming around like an idiot. He accidentally pushed her away and made her hurt herself. Even though he was the cause of that pain, it was him she looks at to save her. Make her feel better. Fuck, where did that pretty brown eye with pink tails in tutu little girl go?

She turns into a fuckin unstoppable beast, a storm of everything that drove him crazy. Everything he saw was wrong with the world. Still, he wanted more. Man, he had to get Jane to understand she was messing up his chance to be with his little angel. God’s gift to him for what he has done what he has accomplished.

“OH STEVEEEEEE” Jane shouted, her legs clenching tight around Steve waisted her mouth in the notch of her neck. Five

“I told you I could make you come at least five times. Having the best sex you ever got, huh. Tell me I’m better no one can ever fuck you. Not even your stupid boyfriend, Thor,” Steve said breathlessly.

Jane nods and whimpers softly. It’s you.

“A no. Doll, I need you to shout it louder for the camera,” he whispered into her ear.

So far into her sexual bliss high, she did not hear him say that but instead agree with him.

He smiles, now holding the camera close to her wet fold. Jane lay back, eyes close, dazed. With a flash, her eyes peak open to see the phone filming her. She pushes up only to be pushed back down with one finger by Steve, still holding the camera. One hand holds down her arms above her head. A Pitch of Steve’s sweat drips onto her.

“Come on, Jane Baby. Say hi to the camera. Man, I made many sex tapes, but you are the first girl I made come without much effort. That is how much of a gold digger slut you are. Your boyfriend hasn’t even cleaned out his locker, but you are already begging to suck my cock. Tiss. Now now, what are we going to do, huh? One-click, and this goes quicker than one of your rumors. By the time you get out of this car, everyone will know what a dirty slut you are. No more Thor, no more ivy school options. The only thing you can do is give yourself to homeless people. Right, where you belong” Steve chuckle watching Jane cry, begging him to stop.

“But why Jane baby, you were holding me with an iron fist singing my name to the high heavens. Haha, you bitch. It would be best if you had someone to teach you—the right way. Don’t worry; I do that. Mmm. Would you like me to show you the right way? Show you how to be a lady, not trashy dirty whore” He said, proceeding close, sniffing her dark locks. Could Angelina still smell like sweet sugar and honey? Wonder if she uses a different shampoo than whores like Jane or Peggy. I bet she sounds different too.

“Please don’t. Do this I. I. I do anything. Please don’t post the video,” Jane said between each sob. Her tiny wrist was starting to burn from the tight grip.

“Oh, no amount of tears or begging to go to stop me. No. You are going to shut up and listen to me bitch. One-stop your blogging, shut it down, and then redact it all. I don’t care what you say, but you end this shit. THEN you’re going to be Thor’s slave. Do whatever he wants behind closed doors, and in front, you will hold tight to his arm to every court hearing throughout the trials. I don’t care if you miss school; I look or hear you miss anything. I’m posting this gem here. Understand,” He said, tilting his head to the side.

“Bu Bu bu it was not me I not the person behind it. I promise I got mad at Thor yes, he was flirting with girls at all the games. But I promise Steve I never do that. But I admit it if that what you want me to do,” She said, crying with chubby tears. He looks deep into her eyes, trying to see if she was lying. Maybe she didn’t. She was like him in a way, using Thor to better herself. He loosens his hold but remains on top. He savors this for future use, but he won’t tell that. Yet. No, he was going to have a bit of fun with this one.

“Not enough. Huh, I guess that’s bye-bye to a bright future. Or else. You come here and show me just how much you want me to keep this little homemade video a secret. Huh. Make it quick. I got a date with destiny, or should I say, little angel. Remember, you use those pearly whites teeth, or don’t swallow all of it up. Bye-bye future, “Steve says with a huge grind and dark eyes darker the midnight sky.

#dark marvel #dark fic #dark steve rogers #dark steve x reader #dark steve x you #steve rogers #steve x you #chris evans x you #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x black!oc #Angelina oc #jane foster #captain america #marvel #rumor has it #dark marvel fic #mini fanfiction #request #dark steve

56 notes · View notes

contemplativepancakes · 3 years

Text

yarn rants with dandelion

3.5k of Geralt poorly hiding the fact that he knits from his family and, in general, being an idiot, read here on AO3

Geralt slams his laptop shut as his apartment door swings open, causing Eskel to quirk an eyebrow. “Whatcha doin’?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Geralt says in a rush.

“Uh huh.” Eskel raises his hands. “Can’t be any weirder than the porn Lambert watches.”

Geralt grunts, scrubbing a hand down his face. “You’re not supposed to be here yet.”

Eskel glances at his watch. “I figured you might want help before the game.”

“I’m ordering pizza,” Geralt says. “Actually, do you want to do it? I have cleaning I still need to do before everyone else gets here.”

Eskel’s eyebrows climb higher on his forehead, and Geralt starts to sweat as he sees Eskel's skepticism. Geralt always makes a spread on game day, telling everyone he’s not going to wait two hours for delivery while they’ll be so busy.

“Um. Okay.” Eskel stares at him for a beat before finally pulling out his phone. “What am I ordering?”

Geralt shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

He goes to his room, shutting the door behind him and hearing Eskel’s voice as he talks to the pizza place. Geralt looks to his bed, where a half finished baby blanket is laid out, before hastily gathering it and its attached ball of yarn up and stuffing them in a basket, piled high with various colors and weights. He throws some dirty clothes from his floor on top for good measure before reemerging from his bedroom, Eskel looking at him suspiciously from his spot on the couch.

“Sure you don’t need help with anything?” Eskel asks.

“No, I’m, uh, I’m good.” Geralt goes to the fridge and pulls out two beers, passing one to Eskel and keeping one for himself.

Thankfully, Eskel doesn’t say anything about his odd behavior, just watches the pregame show with him without comment until Letho arrives, followed shortly after by Lambert and Aiden. Geralt’s relieved, because then Eskel’s attention goes to their ridiculous dancing around each other instead of scrutinizing Geralt.

After everyone has left for the night, Geralt pulls his laptop back out, settling it on the coffee table in front of him and goes to get his blanket. He spreads it across his lap as he clicks play, the sound of a cheerful voice filling his living room.

“Hey, guys! It’s Dandelion, back with my latest yarn haul! I’ve got some awesome ones, and ones you should avoid at all costs, so watch and see which is which!”

Geralt lets himself stare for a second before he jerks himself out of the trance and looks back down while his needles click together as he starts to knit.

Geralt lets the feeling of the yarn between his fingers soothe him. That’s why he watches these yarn reviews, after all. He hates going to the store for yarn, but he hates wasting his money on yarn that’s scratchy and uncomfortable against his skin even more.

Needless to say, he’s grateful to Dandelion for doing all the prep work for him, and he may or may not have developed a crush on the man. Who watches these videos and hasn’t? Geralt reasons.

Dandelion has an infectious enthusiasm, and Geralt can’t help the soft smile from spreading across his face as he listens.

Geralt keeps knitting until his skein is almost out. When he has less of a ball and more of a tangle left, he casts his eyes around for the next one before looking despairingly back at his blanket when he doesn’t find it.

Fuck.

He knew he should have ordered extra; he always does this to himself, but somehow he never learns. He groans as he pulls his computer onto his lap and opens up the website he orders his yarn from. He goes into his history and clicks on the link to his blanket yarn. It’s teal, velvety, and Geralt can’t stop running his fingers over it. When the page finally loads, out of stock blinks back at him.

Double fuck.

He’s never made a blanket before, and he’s drastically underestimated how much it would take. He’s going to need at least three more skeins. Yen’s baby shower is in a month and a half, and there’s no telling when the yarn is going to come back in stock. What if they discontinued it?

There’s nothing for it; he’s going to have to go into the store. He looks at the clock. First thing tomorrow, he decides, before it gets busy. He’ll go right when they open, before the store gets noisy and filled with women who always try to draw him into conversation for some reason.

Geralt huffs at the thought.

Geralt tugs his scarf a little tighter against his neck before he gets out of the car and heads into the store. There’s only four cars in the parking lot, so Geralt hopes he’ll be able to get in and out quickly.

Once he’s inside, he makes a beeline for the yarn aisle, trying to hold in his noise of dismay when he sees someone already standing there. Geralt avoids eye contact and feigns interest in the brightly colored acrylic yarns at the end of the aisle. The person is right in front of the baby yarn section, and Geralt tries not to tap his foot.

Just when Geralt is getting ready to pretend to browse other aisles while he waits, there’s movement behind him. “Lovely scarf,” a man’s voice says. “Looks very soft.”

Geralt turns around, only for his eyes to widen as he comes face to face with Dandelion.

He’s sure something very intelligent sounding comes out of his mouth, but he doesn’t register it.

Whatever it was makes Dandelion laugh, sounding familiar and alarmingly close when they’re not separated by a screen. Geralt glances down at Dandelion’s basket to see it piled high with yarn.

“Nice colors you have there,” Geralt finally manages.

Dandelion beams. “Thank you!”

Geralt takes a closer look and realizes they’re rainbow colors. He heaves a tiny sigh. He’s a disaster. Does Dandelion think he’s flirting with him? Not that Geralt doesn’t want to be, per se, but—it’s complicated.

“Did you make your scarf yourself? Or did a boyfriend make it for you?” Dandelion asks.

“I made it myself,” Geralt mumbles. He’s not sure whether he’s relieved by this line of questioning or not.

“Oh?”

“No boyfriend.”

Dandelion turns another smile on him, and Geralt tries not to melt. “What are you shopping for?”

“Oh. Um. A blanket.”

Dandelion turns back towards the shelves with a critical eye before he plucks out a chunky bright yellow and holds it out to Geralt for his inspection. Geralt runs his fingers over it absently. “Feels nice.”

“Right? I love this brand. How big of a blanket are you making?”

“It’s for a baby.”

Dandelion’s eyebrow arches in question.

“My friend is adopting soon; I thought this would be nice,” Geralt says, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

Dandelion shifts his basket from one hand to the other. “Oh, my. That is very nice.”

Geralt grumbles as he piles more yarn than can surely be reasonable into his own basket while Dandelion eyes the shelf thoughtfully.

Geralt finishes putting the yarn into his basket and goes to leave the aisle, but Dandelion stops him before he takes more than three steps.

“Better get more than you think. I get what I expect to use, and then add 25 percent more.”

That makes Geralt crack a smile. “That makes an expensive hobby even worse.”

Dandelion shrugs. “The curse of being a creative.”

Geralt picks two more bundles from the shelf. “I suppose you’re right.”

Dandelion clears his throat. “Hey, what’s your name?”

Geralt answers, and Dandelion looks him up and down. “Would you like to join our yarn circle?”

“What?” Geralt asks, throat dry.

Dandelion shakes his head glumly. “Nevermind. It’s just there are so few men…”

“I’ll join,” Geralt says, before he fully thinks out his words.

Dandelion brightens instantly. “Excellent!”

Dandelion follows him to the register, chattering the whole way, and by the time Geralt leaves the store, Dandelion has his number saved in his phone. Geralt can’t help but notice how the women are leaving him alone today, just shooting him the occasional baleful look. It’s a nice change of pace. Maybe he should run into Dandelion more often.

“I’ll text you, okay?” Dandelion says after he’s walked with Geralt to his car.

“Um, yeah, okay,” Geralt replies.

He slides into his car and watches Dandelion walk to a bright yellow slug bug. He quirks a grin. It fits him. Geralt’s just turned the key in his ignition when he realizes he didn’t even get the yarn that he came for. He sighs and shuts the engine off.

If he reemerges from the store with the yarn for the rest of his blanket in addition to two skeins of blue that remind him of Dandelion’s eyes, well, that’d be creepy, and it’s nobody’s business but his, anyway.

Geralt looks down at his phone. yarn circle at that coffee place on Main tomorrow at ten! you in?

He saves the contact in his phone, debating with himself before typing Dandelion 🌼.

He puffs a breath through his lips. He shouldn’t be this worked up about a text.

See you then , he types, and goes back to make the s lowercase.

“Who are you texting?” Eskel asks from his spot on the couch, setting down his own phone.

“Who are you texting?” Geralt retorts weakly.

Eskel looks at him, unimpressed. “My girlfriend, dude. Did you finally get yourself one? You know, it’s kind of weird Yen’s replacing you with a baby…”

Geralt grits his teeth. “She’s not replacing me. We just had conflicting goals for the future.”

“And what, pray tell, are these goals?”

Geralt shrugs. “Not kids. I’d be a terrible dad.”

Eskel rolls his eyes. It’s a conversation they’ve hashed out many times before. “Hmm,” Eskel says pointedly, and Geralt gives him an eye roll right back.

“Are we watching this movie or not?”

Eskel mumbles something too low for Geralt to hear.

The next morning dawns bright and early. Too early for Geralt to reasonably head out to the coffee shop by the time he’s ready, so he takes the time to work on the blanket. He’s inching closer to being done, and he’s looking forward to starting something with the yellow yarn, but he’s not quite sure what he wants to make yet.

He wonders if he’s supposed to take his blanket to this yarn circle. Do they knit? Or just talk about it? What if they gossip the whole time? Geralt doesn’t have anything juicy to contribute; he doubts they want to hear about Eskel’s latest problems with his goat yoga business. Giving customers ringworm probably isn’t the best breakfast conversation. He takes in a deep breath, trying to stop the panic spiral.

It’s fine. It’s going to be fine.

It’s not fine.

When he walks in, Dandelion is already sitting at a table, wearing a floral button down that has entirely too many buttons undone to be decent. Geralt tries not to imagine what Dandelion’s chest hair would feel like under his finger tips, if it would be coarse and wiry or smooth and silky.

Geralt shakes his head and grunts a greeting when Dandelion waves him over.

“Hello, hello! Find the place okay?”

“No issues,” Geralt says, pulling out a chair and settling his bag with his knitting awkwardly on the ground.

Dandelion glances down at his phone, and whatever he sees makes his face tighten.

“Hmm, looks like the rest of the circle isn’t going to be able to make it. Flat tire.”

Geralt arches an eyebrow at him. “Do they...need help? I could go change it.”

Dandelion mutters something to himself before looking back up at Geralt. “I think they already have that covered.”

Geralt laughs and rubs a hand on his neck. “You know, I’m going to start thinking you were just trying to get me alone.”

Dandelion returns the nervous laugh and warms his hands on his mug. “Are you going to get some coffee?” he asks.

“Uh, yeah.” Geralt stands up before turning back to Dandelion. “What do you recommend? I don’t come places like this very often.”

“Yeah, I bet. You seem like a coffee, black kind of person.”

“I don’t drink coffee,” Geralt admits.

Dandelion’s eyes practically bug out of his head. “What do you mean you don’t drink coffee?”

“Makes me jumpy. My hands shake.”

Dandelion lets out a sharp exhale. “Wow.”

Geralt scowls. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not! Well, maybe a little. You just better get hot chocolate, then.”

“Fine. I will.”

Dandelion’s laughter when Geralt returns to the table with a mug piled high with whipped cream is infectious.

He’s not sure what comes over him, but Geralt sticks out his tongue.

It’s not until he gets home that he realizes he never even pulled out his knitting.

Dandelion starts texting him more and more, and Geralt feels vaguely guilty when he watches Dandelion’s latest video.

He should probably tell Dandelion he watches them, but he doesn’t want it to turn into a thing , and he certainly doesn’t read too much into it when Dandelion mentions running into a handsome stranger on his latest yarn expedition.

He could be talking about anyone.

Geralt finishes his blanket for Yen, and he starts to think about what his next project should be. The yellow yarn is bright and warm; silky smooth between his fingers. He starts another blanket, because why not? He’s been wanting to practice cabling, anyway.

He brings it to the next yarn circle Dandelion invites him to, but it doesn’t get worked on, and Dandelion doesn’t say anything about where the rest of the circle is. Geralt doesn’t ask.

Finally, four yarn circles in where no knitting is accomplished, Dandelion gives up the ghost and asks Geralt out on a date. “That’s not what we’ve been doing?” Geralt asks with a small smile.

Dandelion shoves him in the chest, a teasing glint in his eye before his hand lingers on Geralt’s pec for a little too long. He jerks his hand back and clears his throat. “Great. I can’t wait," Geralt says.

“I’ll choose to believe that’s not sarcastic.”

Geralt pokes at him. “It’s not.”

“Hmm.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and hmm s right back.

A few weeks later finds Geralt sifting through Netflix for a movie to watch. “Hey, Dandelion!” Geralt calls from the couch, tugging a blanket up to his chin.

Dandelion freezes from his spot just outside the living room with a bowl of popcorn in hand.

“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt says.

“What did you just say?”

“I have some white cheddar for that,” Geralt repeats, more slowly this time.

“No, no, before that.”

Geralt thinks. “Your...name?”

Dandelion blinks at him. “My name is Jaskier.”

Now Geralt is the one who’s confused. “No, it’s not?”

“Geralt, I think I know my own name.” Dandelion’s face pinches. “Wait. You watch my videos?”

Geralt steels himself for the conversation. He had been wondering if he'd just be able to take the fact that he watches them to his grave. “Yes?”

“And you didn’t think to mention this?”

“It seemed...weird," Geralt says haltingly.

Geralt’s still reeling from the revelation. He’s the world’s worst boyfriend; Dandelion has to be playing a cruel prank on him.

“And it didn’t seem weird to you that you were watching me literally sing your praises last week?”

“I thought it was kind of sweet.”

Dand—Jaskier drags a hand down his face. “I can’t believe this.”

“How was I supposed to know that wasn’t your actual name?”

“Geralt, we have been together for a month. How do you not know my name ?”

“It’s never come up!” Geralt says defensively. “You’re the one who never even introduced yourself. Talk about bad manners.”

Jaskier splutters, and Geralt can’t help but quirk a grin at the ridiculousness of the situation.

Jaskier finally rallies. “We’re going to have a talk about online boundaries, but—”

“But what?”

“You’re so god damned stupid,” Jaskier says, before dragging Geralt into a kiss.

Geralt goes without complaint.

While Geralt ponders the new nature of their relationship, he finally finds a use for the blue yarn he’s been hoarding. The whole time he’s knitting the hat, he thinks of Jaskier. It’s exactly the right shade of his eyes, but Geralt doesn’t let himself contemplate it too hard.

When he’s finished, he finds an index card and scrawls a message. He wraps up the whole thing and gives it to Jaskier the next time he sees him.

Jaskier tears the package open and rubs the yarn between his fingers in delight. “You made this for me? No one’s ever knitted something for me before.”

“I’m glad I could remedy that,” Geralt says gruffly, shifting uncomfortably at the adoring look Jaskier is giving him.

Jaskier notices the card and reads it before bursting into laughter.

Sorry I didn’t know your name <3

“You’re forgiven.”

On to the next order of business, then. Geralt clears his throat. “Yen’s baby shower is next week.”

Jaskier makes a noise of polite interest, not looking up from where he’s examining the stitches in the hat. Geralt really hopes he doesn’t notice where he dropped one.

Geralt waits for a few more seconds and sighs. Jaskier is really going to make him ask. “I was wondering if you would want to go with me.”

Jaskier tilts his head up and gives Geralt a bright smile. “Of course I would!” He pauses to think for a moment. “Are you...out to them?”

“Yes,” Geralt grumbles. “It turns out my hiding spot for my play girls when I was 16 wasn’t as clever as I thought.”

Jaskier snorts. “It never is, is it?”

In the days leading up to the shower, Jaskier’s anxiety starts to show, but Geralt politely doesn’t comment. They walk up to the party arm in arm, Geralt carrying both of their gift bags. Geralt had told him he didn’t need to get anything, but he had anyway, insisting that he had just happened to stumble across the cutest onesie, Geralt! What a coincidence!

Geralt can’t help but smile as he looks over at Jaskier. Jaskier’s thumb is compulsively stroking over a spot on Geralt’s hand, and he’s even wearing the hat Geralt knitted him. Geralt’s chest feels tighter than normal.

“Oh, so this is why you haven’t been such a grump lately?” Triss asks once they walk through the door, taking their gift bags to set on a side table.

“I’m never grumpy,” Geralt says, and Jaskier has the audacity to laugh, so Geralt elbows him in the side.

Triss laughs at that, too, before she goes off to find Yennefer and drags her back to them. “Geralt!” she exclaims, rubbing a hand up his arm. “I’m glad you could drag yourself away from your very important activities that you refuse to tell anyone about.”

Geralt rolls his eyes and looks over to see Jaskier staring at him curiously.

“Ah, and this must be Dandelion!” Yen says, turning to Jaskier.

“Eskel wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about that!” Geralt hisses, but Yen just gives him a delighted smile.

Geralt sighs as she moves on to terrorize her next guest.

“Your friends are pretty brutal, Geralt,” Jaskier says lightly.

“You have no idea.”

Geralt leads Jaskier over to where Eskel and Lambert are sitting by the food table and attempts to make small talk.

Almost immediately, Lambert asks, “What’d you get her?”

Eskel and Geralt share an exasperated look. “Why so competitive, Lamb? Over compensating?”

Lambert scowls. “I was just curious. You’re not going to be able to top what I got her, anyway. Best uncle ever.”

“You’re not going to be an uncle,” Eskel says.

Lambert is unconcerned. “Best uncle ever.”

Geralt crosses his arms and leans into Jaskier, trying to block out Eskel and Lambert’s bickering.

“I hate things like this,” Geralt mutters.

“Oh, don’t worry, Geralt. You being an unbearable softie is our little secret. I won’t breathe a word.”

Geralt grumbles. “That’s not why.” He pauses, then, “Why do I put up with you?”

“I can think of a few reasons,” Jaskier says, turning his head to press a kiss against Geralt’s temple.

Geralt flushes at the touch and looks around, but no one is staring at them like anything out of the ordinary happened. Geralt relaxes back against him.

He’s almost dozing off by the time Yen gets to his gift, and he only realizes it by Jaskier digging a bony elbow into his stomach. He pinches Jaskier in retribution.

Yen opens the gift carefully, making the appropriate polite noises as she does so.

“Isn’t it soft?” Jaskier asks as she strokes her fingers over the blanket. “Geralt chose some great yarn.”

Geralt whips his neck around to look at Jaskier so quickly he thinks he heard something pop.

“What?”

“The yarn! It’s so nice and such a lovely color, don’t you think? Geralt did a wonderful job.”

“Geralt, you made this?” Yennefer asks incredulously, and great, her voice cracks.

Geralt sighs and tries to accept his fate of all the merciless jokes that are going to be made in his defense. “Yes?”

“And you didn’t think to tell me this?”

“When the fuck did you learn how to do that?” Lambert asks.

Geralt shrugs defensively. “I’ve been knitting for years.”

Everyone’s eyes are drawn to the blue cap perched on top of Jaskier’s head, and teasing grins spread over their faces.

Geralt groans. He’s never going to hear the end of this.

As Jaskier takes his hand in his and squeezes, he thinks maybe that’s okay.

#fluff #au #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #contemplative writing

207 notes · View notes

comfyswitcherblanketfort · 3 years

Note

now that we have a streamer geralt... could we have a ASMRtist geralt? and a sleepless jaskier? 👀❤️❤️❤️ ily!!!

Listen here, you little shits. This gave me FEELINGS and I dont even listen to/watch asmr?!?!?!

Rude

Now: Geralt

This little bitch was told by Eskel to do this and the only reason he started his channel was because Lambert won a bet.

He just does the little whispery growl thing so well

Plz

End me

But enough about me.

Jaskier absolutely listens to him to get to sleep

He has no fucking clue who WhiteWolfASMR is, bc Geralt never shows his face, but damn, he’s in love.

Jask mainly listens to Geralt reading old poetry and classic literature, but there are a couple goofy ones that he loves, especially when he’s having an anxious day.

Geralt filled his request for a few of Edgar Allen Poe’s shorter poems and Jask listens to it at least three times a week.

One day at a work meeting (do i care enough to assign jobs? No. just roll with it), Geralt leans over and asks Jaskier to pass him a pen and Jask’s soul leaves his body for a minute because “holy shit i know that voice wtf hunky work boi is the asmr guy mother of fucking shit balls im going to die right here and now”

He hands Geralt the pen and gets a weird look

Jask doesn’t catch a single thing the rest of the meeting

Geralt leans over and asks him if he’s okay in that same fucking gravely ass whisper and Jaskier nearly yelps bc honestly how the fuck is this fair

Geralt knows. Immediately.

Jask had left his phone out on his desk while he ran to make copies or some shit and he saw? idk and idc, maybe Geralt just has the gaydar tuned and ready bc Jask is cute.

Geralt goes and searches his followers to find him and corners him by the copier.

“Hey, I started reading more Poe. Thanks for the ah… suggestion.”

Jaskier’s eyes nearly pop out of his head and he stammers his way through the conversation and they somehow end up on a date.

Blah blah blah, they date and fall in love and live together

Geralt reads to Jaskier to help him fall asleep

Or he just talks to him, about anything and nothing and how much he loves him 😭

He makes special recordings just for Jask for when he’s out of town

When Ciri comes along (once again, not worried about specifics) and she’s teething and crying and waking up at all hours of the night Geralt does the voice and holds her close and rocks her back and forth

And Jask is just standing in the doorway trying not to cry bc his lil family is just so fucking cute oh my gods

Ciri tries to mimick him and she cant do it with her tiny little baby voice so she just blows raspberries and humms and it’s very cute

Geralt absolutely does NOT post a little video of them going back and forth

It is absolutely NOT the most watched video on his channel

Jask claims responsibility for at least half of those views

Listen guys, I just wanna listen to Geralt reading things. Thats it. The growly voice and legit any fucking written work. He could read My Immortal and I’d be enthralled.

So like if yall have any ASMR recs that do similar stuff? I guess hmu?

#comfy ansers #regan answers #hailie i know this was you #and i know it was a joke #but you have truly killed me #also i love you #asmr geralt #geralt headcanon #geraskier headcanon #ciri headcanon #the witcher headcanon #the witcher #geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jullian alfred pankratz #ciri #cirilla #fuck me i just really need geralt being a soft family man lately idk why

387 notes · View notes

bamf-jaskier · 3 years

Text

AU Where Dara is the Heir to the Elven Throne

I have been thinking about this NONSTOP and yeah so this is like my new fav headcanon rn. We know Dara’s family was involved in Filavandrel’s uprising and that Filavandrel himself wasn’t indicated/shown to have a family so imagine that Dara is either Filavandrel’s son or just heir and THAT is the reason he hid but still felt very guilty over hiding while the elves were slaughtered by Calanthe.

In episode 4 he says, “Her soldiers…They laughed when they did it, killing, raping. They laughed the hardest when they were swinging babies from their legs, smashing their heads in. I was the only one left. Because I hid. I should’ve saved them. or fought and died.” (I kinda talk about this more here)

and if you think about this in the context of Dara being a prince it makes sense. Because then he realizes he has to hid in order to continue the royal line of the elves but also he feels a sense of guilt because he is feels as though he has this sense of duty to his people. It also explains why he knew so much when the doppler was impersonating Mousesack about what happens in sieges and how prisoners are tortured, etc. Dara would have been involved in at least some way in the planning and fighting of the uprising even if he was extremely young.

So Dara leaves Ciri behind because he had this realization that just like Ciri is pushing for her destiny and her plans, he has to do the same. He felt this sense of kinship with her, both royalty whose kingdoms were stolen from them. It adds this layer that Dara’s home was stolen by Ciri’s family and how there is this struggle there and how much blame can Ciri hold for her ignorance and the sins of her family? Clearly Dara cares for her in some aspects but there is going to be this tension that I think in the end would be difficult to overcome.

Dara leaves Ciri behind and while she finds Geralt, Dara finds the few elves that are left. Filavandrel is still alive and is forming an elven army. They want to take advantage of Cintra’s weakness in order to take back their land. This sort of plays into the idea of the Scoia’tael but instead of being a group of elves who were manipulated by Nilfgaard and honestly were expected to lose from the beginning, this would be a real fighting force with clear goals and intentions.

At first, Dara has trouble adjusting once again to the responsibility of being heir. While he was on the run, he adjusted to hiding under the radar but he knows the eyes of his people are on him again and he feels a sense of survivor’s guilt for watching his people die during Calanthe’s massacre and struggles with having this leadership position alongside Filavandrel while feeling like he wasn’t good enough. Of course, as he plans this elven campaign, and they fight against the few remaining Cintran forces and take back a lot of their land and set up their own kingdom once again, he gains confidence.

He is crowned king once the new elven kingdom is set up because Filavandrel is just so tired and wants to rest and Dara is the new blood the elves sort of need to keep them strong and secure. He’s definitely the sort of ruler who will dress in normal clothing and go out among the people in disguise. I love the royalty-in-disguise trope and I’m willing to bet that Dara will often do this. He loves traveling and meeting new people and new experiences without the grandeur of the royal title.

Imagine he reconnects with Ciri while in disguise when she is planning to take down Nilfgaard, maybe it’s been a year or so since they last saw each other and by now, Ciri has grown a lot. She’s more secure, she has been training and being raised by Geralt and Dara has grown a lot too so there's now this sense of maturity between them. And although Dara doesn’t reveal he’s royalty he does offer to help Ciri once again. He is not a fan of Nilfgaard, recognizing that they are just another form of benevolent imperialism.

So perhaps Dara helps Ciri plan attacks against Nilfgaard and surprises her with his talent strategy. Maybe he plays a role as a spy or an infiltrator within the Nilfgaard Army. (also imagine him trying to keep his role as a fighter alongside Ciri a secret from his advisors and telling them he’s on the road or something when he’s actually fighting Nilfgaard, the comedy)

And then, down the road, Nilfgaard is defeated and a lot of people in Cintra want to take their land back and re-establish their kingdom again. However, there is now this new Elven Kingdom that has formed near Brokilon and much of the land they have is in what was once Cintra.

So Ciri goes to the newly set up Elven Court to negotiate and sort of feel out how relations between Cintra and the Elves would work and then who is on the throne but Dara who did NOT expect Ciri to arrive.

And they’ve been good friends for a number of years now so Ciri is just SHOCKED that Dara is actually the KING of the Elves and he’s just like “Listen, I didn’t want to tell you I thought it would make things awkward”

I love this idea a lot and I know I don’t really have time to ever write it but I am obsessed.

#the witcher #dara #ciri #I lot these two a lot and have many ideas but #I have no time to write #ARGH #the witcher netflix #the witcher aus #myposts #elves #why the FUCK are there not more Dara head canons?#deadass I haven't seen a SINGLE fic about him or anything #there's a couple where like...he's adopted alongside Ciri sort of #but nothing really about him specifically #anyways here you all go

215 notes · View notes

peaktotheocean · 2 years

Text

pinky promise

pairing: lambert/aiden notes: I pinch-hitted for the AW AU server’s exchange & wrote a gift @entwife508 summary:

This was the end.

Aiden was going to die.

He was going to meet his end right here in the city park, courtesy of the hot angry-looking guy who Aiden had just accidentally pelted with a snowball.

December was already hellishly busy and they weren't even at the holidays yet. However, the calendar was nearing the end of the college semester.

Jaskier planned to spend the weekend crouched over his desk, a last-minute rush to mark papers before the grading deadline. Geralt had tried his best to get in his business trips before the solstice but with snow in the northern part of the country, he was stuck at an airport hotel for at least the next day and a half. Which meant...

"Uncle Lambert to the rescue," Lambert muttered to himself. He didn't bother ringing the doorbell, and just let himself in. There was a confused "Lamb?" from the second floor of the house, followed by a squeal of excitement from his niece.

No sooner than the ear-piercing noise stopped, Lambert heard the increased thumping of a six year old's socked feet as she headed his way. Ciri slid across the last few feet of the front hallway and right into his arms.

"Ciri!" He lifted her up in a hug, swinging her back and forth. She giggled even as her legs acted as a pendulum.

When Jaskier and Geralt had adopted Ciri, Lambert had been dead certain that he would be a crap uncle. He didn't know the first thing about taking care of a kid. Not diapers, not appropriate toys or language, and certainly not even the right way to hold a baby.

Then he had seen her.

A little bundle in his older brother's arms, swaddled in a blanket with fabric dotted in cartoon hedgehogs. Jaskier was pressed against Geralt's side, unable to take his eyes off his daughter. The little family in front of Lambert, sleep-deprived and ecstatic all at once.

Lambert felt himself change instantly. He had such a massive protective urge had hit him. If anyone dared to hurt his niece, or her parents, or any other member of his family, he wouldn’t hesitate. Well, it had been overwhelming to say the least. Thankfully, Geralt had confided in him that he had felt the same way the first time he held Ciri in his arms.

Lambert had gotten over his baby fear quickly after that. Even if he was grateful to give Ciri back to her parents at the end of the day, Lambert was always excited to show up in the first place.

And now he was the certified Fun Uncle™ (Suck it, Eskel.)

Lambert had the whole day planned to take Ciri's mind off of the fact that Da was busy and Papa was stuck in another part of the world.

Hot chocolate, ice skating in the park, and the winter carnival to help her buy cute kid Yule presents for her dads.

Did Lambert enjoy the cold? Fuck no.

But Ciri loved the snow and the park was covered in the stuff.

So Lambert ignored Vesemir's shit-eating tone over the phone when he asked where Lambert planned on taking his niece for the day.

It was a foolproof plan.

Or it was.

One moment, Lambert was "sneaking" extra mini marshmallows into Ciri's hot chocolate and trying to figure out the best way to ease her out of giggling so she didn't choke on them, and the next thing he knew, he was on the ground, flat on his back, and freezing.

This was the end.

Aiden was going to die.

He was going to meet his end in the park, courtesy of the hot angry-looking guy who Aiden had accidentally pelted with a snowball that had been meant for his sister. Dragonfly had only cackled and disappeared behind her and Gaetan's snow fort on the other side of the path. If Aiden focused, he could probably hear them planning, but he was too busy worrying that he might have seriously injured a stranger.

He stumbled over his snowboots and slid across the ice-covered dirt path to where, thank Melitele, the man was groaning and moving. Aiden got on his knees, ignoring how the cold wet snow seeped right through his pants.

"I am so sorry. Oh my god. Are you all right? Please be all right," Aiden pleaded. He didn't reach out and touch the man but it was a near thing.

Light brown eyes, nearly golden in the winter sun, found his own as the stranger blinked a few times, attempting to focus.

Before Aiden could do anything else, a pink puffball slammed into his side.

Aiden found himself on the ground too, in the snow just like the stranger.

"You knocked over my uncle! You made him slip on the ice!" A furious and squeaky voice accused him. A little girl in an oversized pink and purple snowsuit was glaring down at him.

"Cub! Cub, back off." the mystery man groaned. He sat himself up and rubbed at his head. The little girl went into his arms easily, pouty lip showcasing her worry. "Ciri! He apologized. And I'm fine, I promise. I just got the wind knocked out of me. It was more the ice I was standing on than his snowball that did it."

"Are you sure, Uncle Lambert?" Ciri asked, biting her bottom lip. Her hot chocolate has fallen to the ground a few feet away and melted a little patch of snow. Lambert kissed her temple.

"I really am so sorry. Genuinely," Aiden put as much earnestness as he could into his tone. He didn't blame the little girl for not believing him.

"Da says apologies don't mean much unless you really feel sorry too," she told him seriously.

Aiden wasn't going to laugh at this adorable little girl, he wasn't. But it was a near thing. He sat up, a bit closer to this Uncle Lambert and Ciri and told them both, "I'm really, really feel sorry."

"And you won't do it again?" Ciri asked suspiciously.

"I promise," he told her, hands open in front of him.

Cir didn't seem quite sold yet. She squinted her eyes at him. "You have to pinky promise."

That, Aiden could do. His gloves were still covered with bits of snow, but he held them out to her.

"Oh." Ciri looked down at her own hands, trapped in sparkly mittens. It was clear by the movement of the fabric that she was attempting to wiggle her fingers but couldn't quite see where either of her pinkies were located. “Uncle Lambert? Can you pinky promise him?"

Aiden caught Lambert's gaze and the two of them did their best to hold in the laughter. Lambert even winked at him. Aiden tried not to blush but he wasn't sure if he was successful or not. It was difficult to tell already being flushed from a snowball fight and the exhaustion of hitting the ground.

Lambert held out his pinky and Aiden hooked his own around it.

"I pinky promise not to hit you with a snowball again. Or any other unsuspecting park visitor," he added. They both looked at Ciri for approval and thankfully, she nodded firmly even if she still didn't seem sold on Aiden.

"Hmph."

Lambert let go of Aiden's pinky and tugged on Ciri's mittens. "Come here, cub. I'm all right." He drew her into his lap for a little cuddle and Aiden didn't want to leave their little bubble, even if it was on the wet ground.

"Are you sure?" Ciri whispered loudly, no doubt hoping Aiden couldn't hear her.

"Positive," Lambert promised. He grunted as he got off the ground, taking Ciri with him and settling her onto her own two feet.

Aiden watched the two of them. Lambert tucked blonde curls up underneath Ciri's hat so they didn't fall into her eyes and Aiden decided he couldn't leave the park knowing he might not ever see this man again. "Can I buy you both hot chocolate? As an apology?"

"What do you think, cub?" Lambert sounded a bit stiff but he was upright and smiling and wow, Aiden wanted to keep seeing those lips, both upturned and preferably closer to him. Aiden felt his knees grow weak as Lambert winked at his niece. The little girl giggled and leaned against her uncle's legs.

"Extra marshmallows!" Ciri cheered. Lambert's laugh was glorious. He brought his hands down again and straightened out the cub, Ciri's, knit hat. She looked up at him adoringly and Aiden could relate.

"As the princess demands," Aiden promised as he led the way back to the street vendor.

on ao3 here!

#the witcher #lambden #aiden x lambert #this is my fic tag

15 notes · View notes

bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 3 years

Text

Baby, You Light Up My World

well I haven't done this trope yet...

sold to 1D au - modern au - absolutely a fluffy crackfic

I didn't do much editing, I just wrote this for funsies.

Please consider leaving me a comment since it is my birthday month. As both a bisexual and a Leo I desire nothing more than validation.

tw: mild panic attack

---

“Jaskier! You useless layabout!” his mother called from the bottom of the stairs. “Get down here!”

The young man dropped the book he’d been reading and jogged down the staircase from his room to the main floor. “Yes, Mother?”

“I had to pay the bills after your father died mysteriously so I sold you online.”

“What!?” Jaskier gaped, jaw dropping.

“Yeah, and your new owners are almost here.”

“My new owners!? M-Mother, what do you mea-”

“Go upstairs and get your shit packed,” the frowning woman interrupted. She lit up a cigarette and rolled her eyes in obvious annoyance. “That doorbell is going to ring any minute now and then my problems are over.”

The shocked teen wandered back up the stairs to his room, where he packed his meagre belongings into his old summer camp duffel bag and laid his father’s old guitar gently in its velvet-lined case. His mind raced with questions. Would they be nice people? Would they be cruel? Would he be happier with these strangers than he was at home or at school? Who were they? Was this even legal?

Jaskier nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard the doorbell ringing. He grabbed his bag and his guitar and slowly made his way to the front door. His mother was chatting quietly with several people - men, judging by their low voices - and his heartbeat skyrocketed.

“C’mere, boy,” she ordered, snapping her fingers with impatience. Jaskier scurried forward. “Meet the people who are taking you off my hands.”

“Hello, Jaskier,” said a familiar voice. His head shot up, blue eyes wide and confused.

“G-Geralt deRiv!?” his gaze moved from one man to the next in quick succession. “L-Lambert… Eskel?”

It was his favorite band, Wolf Direction.

---

EARLIER THAT MORNING

---

“Why the fuck are you buying another band member?” Lambert asked, glancing over Vesemir’s shoulder to read his laptop screen. “Why not just hold some open auditions?”

“Because this is a fanfiction, Lambert,” their manager huffed. “And this is how Geralt and Jaskier's meet-cute has to happen.”

“Oh.”

---

BACK TO THE STORY

---

Lambert took his guitar and Eskel took his bag while Geralt herded Jaskier onto the large tour bus parked in his too-short driveway. Jaskier was still in shock; his limbs moved on autopilot as he sat down on the surprisingly comfortable couch that stretched along one wall of the bus, beneath the tinted windows. Geralt sat beside him but kept his hands to himself, waiting for the old man with the mustache to speak first.

“Well hello there, Jaskier,” the stranger greeted warmly. “I know this is an unconventional situation but I wanted to personally welcome you to Wolf Direction. I'll admit that it's all a bit sudden and unexpected, but we needed someone with your gentle disposition to help balance out the boys and you're almost the same age, which is convenient.”

"I'm-" Jaskier blinked owlishly. "I'm joining the band?!"

"You're going to be the new front man," Lambert winked.

Jaskier, completely overwhelmed by the events of the past half-hour, passed the fuck out.

Geralt startled a bit as the brunette boy slumped against him and he gave Vesemir a worried glance. “What the fuck?”

By the time Jaskier managed to regain consciousness they were already nearly a hundred miles away. He sat up from the arm of the couch and stretched, listening as several places in his lower back popped into place. “Huhn?”

“Oh!” Eskel grinned, setting down his X-Box controller. “You’re awake!”

“And you’re Eskel.”

“Yeah… I sure hope so.”

“Cool.”

“Please don’t faint again!” Eskel pleaded, propping the smaller boy against a pillow and covering his lap with a blanket. “You scared the shit out of Geralt.”

“Sorry,” Jaskier blushed, allowing himself to be prodded and adjusted. “I didn’t mean to… It’s just been a very weird morning.”

“It’s going to get weirder,” Lambert added, slamming the bathroom door closed behind him. “Because now we have to know which one of us you’d like to bunk with. There are only four bunks and the bus driver has the couch.”

“Uhhh…” Jaskier’s eyes flickered between Eskel and Lambert. “I’ll just sleep on the floor.”

“I’ll take the floor,” Geralt offered, poking his head out from behind one of the bunk curtains. “He’s new and probably terrified. He’ll need more sleep than I do after the day he’s had.”

“I- No, it’s-” Jaskier tried to argue but none of the band members wanted to listen.

“Alright, floor for Geralt. Jaskier can have his bunk.”

Jaskier felt wrongfooted all over again. “Th-Thanks.”

“No problem. You any good at FIFA?” Eskel asked, offering Jaskier a second controller. The young man shook his head and settled back onto the couch.

“I brought a book,” he smiled timidly.

“Oh, you and Geralt will get along swell,” Lambert teased, tossing Jaskier the duffel. “The bus has been infested by bookworms!”

“Wouldn’t hurt you to read a book or two,” Vesemir said over his shoulder. “Might actually manage to fill some of the space between your ears.”

“Fuck off,” Lambert groused. He fumbled his way into his own bunk. “Let me know when it’s time to eat.”

Jaskier, still surrounded by a cloudy sort of surreality, opened his book and lost himself in the pages.

---

TWO WEEKS LATER

---

Jaskier had forgotten how much he hated thunderstorms. He whimpered as another loud bang shook the bus and rattled him in his tiny bunk. Thankfully the driver had parked them for the night, so he didn’t have to worry about crashing into a tree during inclement weather. He was worried about blowing away in the wind, however.

“G-Geralt?” he whispered, poking his head out from behind the dark curtain. Geralt blinked up at him from his air mattress on the floor, still mostly asleep.

“Hmm?”

“Wanna share the bunk tonight? I-” Jaskier licked his lips anxiously and took a deep breath “I’m scared of the storm.”

“Sure,” Geralt lumbered to his feet and slid onto the twin-sized mattress next to Jaskier. Their legs were pressed together and their faces were only inches apart. “Sorry. Bit of a tight squeeze.”

“I don’t mind,” Jaskier muttered. He was glad that the darkness kept Geralt from seeing the way his face had gone red from being in such close proximity to his favorite member of the band.

He and Geralt had been dancing around each other lately - terrified of their very obvious and very mutual feelings for each other - and Jaskier was glad for an excuse to be near him again. Geralt spoke up again: “Scared of storms?”

“I used to have the attic bedroom at my house,” Jaskier explained, keeping his voice low. Eskel was right above them, snoring away. “And once, during a storm, a tree branch flew through my window. I haven’t been able to sleep through the sound of thunder since.”

“I’m glad you’re alright,” Geralt replied. One of his heavy arms came to rest over Jaskier’s ribcage, holding him without holding him; merely a comforting weight to settle his nerves.

“Me, too,” Jaskier smiled. “Sorry for interrupting your sleep. I’ll be quiet now.”

“Hmm,” Geralt hummed his acknowledgement. He tucked the younger man’s head beneath his chin and started humming an actual tune, running through all of Jaskier’s favorite Wolf Direction songs until he started snuffling quietly. “Sleep, Jask. I’ll keep you safe.”

And he did.

---

TWO MONTHS LATER

---

"Thank you so much, Detroit, we loved being here!" Jaskier waved to the audience and let the microphone drop. He was panting for breath and sweat dripped from his bangs into his eyes, still... this was the happiest he'd ever been. Geralt wrapped a strong arm around his waist, waved to the screaming crowd one last time, and escorted Jaskier into the wings.

"You did great, babe," he smiled. Jaskier grinned up at him.

"Really?"

"You always do."

"You guys are disgusting," Eskel made a fake gagging sound.

"I think it's adorable," Lambert argued. They switched sides every week or so to keep things interesting. "They were made for each other."

"Whatever," Jaskier stuck his tongue out. "This is a found family strangers-to-lovers fic. We can do whatever we want."

"I want to kiss you," Geralt suggested. Jaskier grinned again.

"Sounds like a great ending to me!"

So they kissed, and it was beautiful and sweet and everything Jaskier had ever hoped for.

#crackfic #geraskier crack #witcher crack #geraskier fluff #fluff and crack #the witcher ficlet #geraskier ficlet #happy birthday to me #thank you hermit squad for enabling my gay ass #bouncey's birthday prompt celebration #bouncey's bday ficlets #geraskier nonsense #geraskier fic #geraskier modern au #wolf direction #sold to one direction meme

43 notes · View notes

write-ur-wrongs · 3 years

Text

Mother, Mother pt.2

A/N: Finally ready to post part 2 of my dad!Geralt fic!!! Part 2 is loosely based on this prompt Another request with baby!👀🥰 Reader has a newborn and geralt is just watching them thinking about how much have changed and how reader turned his life around...🍪 so I really want to thank that anon for their prompt and their patience! I definitely took some liberties with this story and worry the plot got lost along the way(?) but I really hope you like it nonetheless! Full disclosure I haven’t proof-read this piece so forgive the many typos!!

__________________________________________________________

“I said, no,” Geralt repeated himself slowly and with great authority, “thank you.”

The village healer looked at the witcher with eyes wide in disbelief, unable to accept that there was anything a witcher wouldn’t do for coin. Especially this witcher – the White Wolf – or so they used to call him. He used to be a force to be reckoned with on the continent, but now it seemed there was rarely a job he’d be willing to take.

“No? B-but who will help us!” they shouted desperately, “you can’t just leave this village to fend for itself! The creature will kill us all, Witcher!”

Geralt closed his eyes and took a deep breath before repeating himself yet again. “Please understand, I can’t help you, but I know people who can. Eskel is highly qualified and will be here by the next full moon. He will help you; I assure you.”

“But you’re here now,” the healer said, still shaking his head, “you could resolve this by nightfall! Why should these people wait a week for peace?”

“Hm.” He growled, lowly, biting down on his cheek to keep himself from giving into his rage and his pride. He wasn’t just living for himself anymore, not just living for the coin or by the witcher’s code; he had a family now.

He knew the world wouldn’t be easy to convince regarding his change in career path. Hell, it had taken most of your pregnancy to convince his brothers at Kaer Morhen of his plans. When he first told them you were pregnant, and it was his, they laughed heartily while sharing quick looks of concern between one another; fearing you’d strayed and were trying to play poor Geralt for a fool.

Yet that reaction was nothing compared to the one they gave him when Geralt admitted that his days of being a witcher were over. He’d be a consultant now. He’d travel the continent only when he heard of monsters through Jaskier’s letters, and once he reached these villages, he’d take stock and refer the case to one of his brothers, who’d pay him a modest commission for the referral. Geralt never took contracts he deemed to be too dangerous (which, so it happened, was most of them). The rule was if he wouldn’t readily bring Cirilla along to help, it was too dangerous for him alone.

Once, he let pride take precedence and he accepted a contract he knew was dangerous. It felt good to be back in the saddle, both literally and figuratively. He and Roach took to the forest like birds on a breeze, and his sword was just an extension of himself as he wielded it fiercely and with grace.

While he did conquer the beast in the end, it did put up quite a fight, and everything he thought made the fight worth it was washed away the instant he limped into your home and saw the look on his pregnant wife’s face and heard the cries of his beloved child surprise. To this day, he still feels the panicked sound of Ciri’s fearful shriek and your horrified sob weigh heavily in the pit of his stomach.

He felt this very weight now as he considered this desperate healer’s words. Yes, he’d handled this type of monster many times before, but it wasn’t worth it.

“Listen to me, this type of creature is only a threat during a full moon,” Geralt said, “just educate your people, spread the word, you’re in a position of authority here – use it.”

The healer sighed deeply before muttering to themselves in frustration. They pulled their cloak tighter around their body and made a scene of grabbing the coin-filled sac from the table. Geralt rolled eyes his at the paranoid healer before gesturing for them to head outside.

“Fine, leave! But if you leave now and anyone dies, their blood will be on your hands!” shouted the healer, as Geralt tended to Roach.

Geralt rolled his eyes before mounting Roach, urging her onto the trail.

This isn’t my fight, he thought, and their people will be fine.

You were having a wonderful morning. Wren slept through the night for the first time in who-knows how long, and Ciri was relaxing as she entered her fifth day without a magical episode; those lessons with her aunt Yennefer were definitely paying off.

Now you were savouring the gentle afternoon breeze, resting your knees in the cool earth of the garden as the sun warmed you from above. You loved harvesting produce and tending to the flowers; this year was especially bountiful thanks to a rainy spring and temperate summer. As you picked tomatoes off the vine, you smiled softly at the sound of Ciri celebrating a successful hit on her target across the yard.

Meanwhile, Wren played happily in the dirt at your side. She’s been sitting up on her own now which was such a thrill. Such a small change, but it granted you freedoms you didn’t know you’d been missing.

“Mama, snek!” Wren squealed, proudly holding an earthworm up at you. You laughed in relief upon seeing what she was holding up – for half a second you thought she’d managed to snag an actual snake.

“Wow my girl,” you cooed, “what a find!”

At the sound of your praise, Wren smiled up at you brightly and closed her little fingers around the earthworm with pride.

“Careful now, love! Don’t harm it,” you said, gently prying open her stubby fingers and releasing the worm back into the soil, “these little guys play an important role in the health of our garden.”

“You know she doesn’t understand you, right mom?” Ciri said a little breathlessly after stabbing her sword into the earth.

“I don’t think we can say that with certainty, Ciri. She is a witcher’s daughter after all, we are in for a lifetime of surprises I’d say.” You replied with a small shake of your head. Ciri rolled her eyes at you before making off towards the house at a run.

“Cirilla,” you warned, “don’t leave your sword in the yard! And wipe it down before you take it in – I don’t want dirt tracked in again.”

“Mom!” she groaned, stomping back to get her sword. “Witchers don’t need to do these ridiculous chores…” she said under her breath.

“They don’t get warm meals or comfortable beds either!” you replied in a sing-song, knowing it would drive Ciri crazy – you hated when she grumbled at you. Ciri had great respect for her father but would sometimes treat you like you were nothing more than a headmistress at school. Having spent time with witchers and sorceresses alike, scolding didn’t command respect; at least when you played it light it got her attention.

“Yeah – I know! I’ve lived those lives!” Ciri shouted, storming back towards the house, sword in hand.

Fuck. You forgot she was there when Cintra fell. How could you forget?! She was alone and, on the run, and oh gods if Geralt had been here and heard this he’d –

“Ciri, wait, I’m so sorry. I’m –”

“Sounds like someone could use some help.”

You stopped cold at the sound of the strangers’ voice. It ran through you like mead – ice cold but left a strange burning sensation in its place. Ciri also stopped in her tracks, dropping her hand from the door but keeping a firm grip on the helm of her sword. Ciri cast a quick glance at the stranger standing on the edge of your property before settling her nervous eyes on you.

You did your best to evoke confidence before turning to see this stranger for yourself.

It was Visenna.

Again, you did your best to seem confident as you addressed your eldest. “Ciri,” you said, not taking your eyes off the druid, “take Wren into the house, quickly!”

“Mom?”

“Cirilla please, take her and go into the house,” you said, impressed at your ability to keep your voice level. “And take your sword with you,” you added, turning to give her what you hopped was a look that encouraged her to stay calm and be careful.

Ciri said nothing but scooped her sister up and onto her hip with one arm while keeping her sword steadily by her side.

Once you heard the door close, you cast a quick glance to make sure your girls were safe before turning your attention back to the woman standing at the gate.

“Why are you here, Visenna?” you asked, holding your head high despite the fact your heart was pounding in your ears.

“Oh child,” her words dripped with condescension, “I never expected my son to write me back, but I had hoped he’d share the contents of my letter with his wife.”

“He told me about the letter,” you said, giving her a tight close-lipped smile, “in fact he told me all about you. So, I’m going to ask you again, why are you here?”

“If you know about the letter, then you know why I’m here.”

“Could you be so cold as to have you forgotten your history with your son? The way you left him to be tested on like a rat? You have no right to be here.” Your voice cracked as you finished your last sentence, and Visenna tilted her head at your sign of weakness.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about, dear. You weren’t there -”

“Neither were you!” you spat; with a harshness you didn’t think you had in you.

“Hm.” Visenna crossed her arms and watched you closely through narrowed eyes. You hated that she reminded you of Geralt as she seized you up – the had the same mannerisms, the same affinity for the non-verbal. Geralt could never know.

The druid’s scrutinizing glare made you squirm, and when you broke eye contact with her for a moment of reprieve, she moved to open your gate. For the briefest moment, your panic left you paralyzed as you watched the woman begin a confident stride towards the house.

“Stop!”

You whipped your head around as you heard Ciri come bursting out of the front door. She was wielding her sword up in front of her with one hand while the other hugged Wren onto her side.

“Do not come any closer, I am warning you!” she shrieked, her light eyes wild as her mousey hair blew behind her.

“Ciri-” you tried, holding one hand out to calm her.

“No!” she yelled, keeping her eyes and her sword fixed on Visenna, who was now standing stock-still at the gate.

“Stop trying to tame her, dear,” Visenna interjected. “Let the lion cub roar.”

At the sound of her old nickname, you took in a sharp breath and felt your heart drop to your stomach. It felt like the world stopped turning as Ciri reacted to the trigger.

Cirilla could handle discussions about her old life in small doses and only on her terms. Whenever the dreams came to her, it would take you hours to calm her down. More often than not, the episodes left you and Geralt drained and deeply concerned. Yennefer was really the only person Ciri responded to, and while her methods and lessons have helped, sometimes the pain brought on by the memories was simply too great.

Now, as the four of you stood in your garden, you could feel the earth begin to vibrate beneath your feet. Ciri’s jaw was clenched tight and her nostrils were flared. She slowly knelt down and placed Wren onto the ground before standing tall once again.

“Do not call me that.” She seethed, voice dripping with magic.

“Come now, child,” Visenna replied, seemingly unaware of the storm brewing, “I am your grandmother. I can help you; teach you.”

“You are not my grandmother!” Ciri shrieked, pushing a violent wind towards the druid which forced her to take a step back. “Get out of here! Leave!”

“I – I don’t mean any disrespect, Ciri. The Lioness was –”

“Ciri, no, wait –”

Everything happened so quickly. You felt the burning rush of Ciri’s magic roar past you and tried desperately to keep your eyes open so you could see Wren. Though your eyes stung against the harsh blast Ciri was emitting, you saw Wren crying soundlessly behind her sister, her chubby hands reaching out towards you in desperation. You tried to step towards her but an invisible force pushed you to the ground. You pulled yourself up on one elbow and tried to reach towards your baby without luck. Everything was burning and it took all of your strength to stay alert.

Meanwhile, Ciri’s blast of magic shot at Visenna like a bolt of lightening. Out of the tip of her sword and from her outstretched hand came a bright blue flame surrounded by pulses of violent wind. The destructive blast uprooted the gate and surrounding fence, throwing them back into the forest beyond. Burning shrapnel and earth flew towards her at breakneck speed, but the druid reacted quickly, pulling a portal with the help of an amulet and escaped the blast.

The garden in the path of Ciri’s blow burned harshly – leaving nothing behind but ash; except for the pocket where you lay. You tried to call out to Ciri to calm her down but there was no air for you to draw from. You let the force of her magic hold you down for a moment, trying to recuperate your strength, and when you looked up again you saw Wren taking a few wobbly steps toward her sister.

Holy fuck, you thought. These were her first steps.

You watched with wide eyes as Wren took step after step towards her sister, whose magic raged on. You were so drained by the weight of Ciri’s magic that you were convinced your eyes were deceiving you.

You watched in disbelief as Wren took step after step towards Ciri. The moment her little hand reached her sisters leg, the spell broke and Chaos released its hold on Cirilla. Drained from the exertion, she lost consciousness and started to collapse in on herself, her sword falling from her hand and onto the ground with a dull thud.

You scrambled to your feet and raced to Ciri, dropping to your knees once you reached her to catch her in her fall. You smoothed the ashen strands out of her face and rocked her gently from side to side, breathing shakily through your silent tears. You didn’t know when you started to cry, but when Wren waddled her way to you and nestled onto Ciri’s lap to press her face into the crook of your neck, you were sure you’d be crying forever.

“What the fuck,” Geralt growled upon seeing the destruction as he rode up to the house from the trail. In a growing panic, he urged Roach into a canter. When they got to where the gate should have been, he dismounted and ran towards the house at a sprint, his heart pounding in his ears. When he saw you sobbing on the ground with an unconscious Ciri and weeping Wren, he lost all control.

“Y/N! Y/N what happened?! Who did this?” he shouted, panic rising. When he spotted Ciri’s sword on the ground, Geralt fell to his knees beside you and quickly scanned you all for any sign of injury. You were weeping, holding tightly to Ciri, who was unconscious, and Wren, you

“Y/N please talk to me,” he said more harshly than he meant it, while brushing wild strands of hair out of your face gruffly.

“Ciri, she um –” you choked, working to slow your breathing, “she lost control of her magic…”

“Yeah, I can see that, love.” He said with an incredulous laugh, his eyes scanning your ruined garden with disbelief. “What the fuck happened to make her so upset? Did – did she have a nightmare? Did you, hm, say something to her?”

“Geralt – no,” you said quickly, the tears you managed to calm coming back with a vengeance.

“Y/N, I’m sorry I just…” Geralt regretted the insinuation that this might have been your fault but he’d only ever seen Ciri’s magic be this destructive when she was afraid or hurt. He was at a loss.

You shook your head and turned in his arms to look back at him, readjusting Ciri and Wren in your arms to free an arm which you placed onto Geralt’s chest. You held his eyes and took a steadying breath, unsure of how he’d react.

“We – we were in the garden just, just like always and,” you cast a quick glance down at your daughters before bringing your eyes back up to Geralt’s, both to ground yourself and to hopefully remind him of their proximity in order to temper his reaction, “and Visenna appeared at the gate.”

He gasped sharply at your words, and his body around you. You brought your hand up to his face and tried to calm him. His cat-like eyes were wild and unfocused – he looked like a frightened child and it broke your heart to see him like this. Wren seemed to sense this too, as she scrambled up and reached towards her father’s hair.

Wren’s light tugs managed to pull Geralt out of his shock momentarily and his eyes seemed to come back into focus. Seeing this change, you gently redirected his attention back to you.

“Visenna came for Wren… T-to take her or, or to raise her or something? She mentioned the letter…” Geralt clenched his jaw at the reminder.

You hadn’t motioned the letter in months. Geralt wasn’t at all ready to welcome his mother back into his life, and he definitely didn’t want her anywhere near his family.

“What did she do to Ciri? I swear I’ll –” he seethed.

“No, no, Geralt,” you interrupted gently, moving your hand back to his chest, “she didn’t get the chance. I don’t know what she was going to do, but Ciri came out with her sword,” you stopped short to look down at her with pride, “to protect us.”

“She did?” Geralt let out another incredulous breath, shaking his head at his child surprise.

“Yeah, it was like nothing I’ve ever seen. Her magic, it destroyed everything in its path but somehow, she was sheltering me from the blast. Visenna escaped through a portal, I- I think? But Ciri was… unstoppable.”

“Y/N, if Ciri was able to harness Chaos like this at her will, to protect you; this could mean –”

“Oh no, love, I’m sorry I’m not telling this right. She came out of the house with her sword to protect us but she lost control when Visenna called her the Lion Cub.”

“Oh, fuck.”

“Oh, I know,” you agreed emphatically before adding, “and then she called herself Ciri’s grandmother…”

“Fuck!”

“Right,” you sighed, shaking your head as a shudder ran through you.

“Da-ee,” Wren said suddenly, pushing her little hands into her father’s face, causing a shocked laugh to escape his lips. Geralt’s face softened in a way he reserved for his youngest daughter and the sight of it was enough to pull you out of whatever was left of your panic.

“Oh, gods!” you exclaimed, “Geralt you won’t believe this.”

“Hm?” he hummed, not taking his eyes off Wren; he was completely enthralled by his baby.

“She took her first steps – and, gods it was incredible Geralt – when she touched Ciri, it pulled her out of the trance!” You gushed breathlessly.

“She did? That’s my girl!” he beamed, earning a proud giggle from the toddler. “Fuck I hate that I missed this, you’re just full of surprises aren’t you, goose?” he said, peppering light kisses across Wren’s little face.

“I know, love.” You said softly, leaning into his arms once more. “I’m so relieved to have you home.”

“Come on, Y/N, let’s get our girls into the house.” Geralt said as handed Wren off to you before picking Ciri up gently as he stood. You took his outstretched hand rose to your feet along-side him. “I’m not leaving you again, I promise.”

“Geralt, you say that every time.” You tease lightly, holding the front door open for him.

“No, I mean it this time Y/N, really.” He said quietly, as he laid Ciri down in her room. “I can’t keep doing this. When I’m gone, all I do is think of you and the girls…” he trailed off when he noticed Wren had fallen asleep on the couch. You smiled tenderly as you watched him cradle her into his strong arms.

“My love, you know you’d go crazy if you stayed here with us all the time.” You said as you smoothed his hair out of his face.

“I’d go crazy if anything ever happened to you.” he whispered.

“Hey now… we’re fine,” you tired to reassure him, “today was an anomaly. I doubt Visenna would try that stunt again. Ciri will be fine, she just needs to rest, and tomorrow we can send word out to Yen for support. We – “you paused to take a steadying breath, “we can’t let fear rule our lives, Geralt.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, setting Wren down into her bed before wrapping his arms around your frame, “now when did you get to be so wise?”

“A certain witcher taught me a few things,” you said, a small smirk playing on your lips, “always preaching something or other but sometimes the lessons stick.”

“Is that so?” he growled, a fighting back a smirk of his own.”

“Hmm,” you teased, kissing him deeply.

#geralt of rivia #witcher geralt #geralt fanfic #geralt x reader #Dad!Geralt #the witcher #the witcher netflix #geralt x you #geralt x y/n #Cirilla of Cintra #cirilla fiona elen riannon #witcher cirilla #fanfiction requests #fanfiction #fanfic

210 notes · View notes

innocentbi-stander · 4 years

Text

I’ve had a whole bunch of non-human Jaskier headcanons bouncing around my head for ages, so here’s yet another segment highlighting my Witcher problem.

Hear me out on this one: child of the moon Jaskier... it goes like this:

Jaskier’s mother was a young village girl who was desperate for love

She had heard of the moon spirit granting wishes to those who asked who were worthy

She was young and foolish and wanted a great love story and so in the dead of night she snuck out to the fields outside of her village and begged the moon to find her a husband

Just when she was about to give up, the moon answered

She would grant her her wish, if she would give her just one thing, something the moon wanted more than anything

A child

So Jaskier’s mother miraculously encountered a viscount returning to his kingdom while on the road back to her village, a viscount who fell deeply in love with her and begged her to marry him

So she agreed, and left her village and they were wed and it wasn’t long after that, that she found out she was pregnant

Months later as she was holding her little blue eyed baby, she knew what she had to do

She took her son out late at night and the minute she stepped out into the open fields the moon was there waiting, ready to take her child

Once he was in her arms, everything else melted away

There was nothing else in the world except the moon, her son, and the field of buttercups where they stood, and that’s when she knew his name would be Jaskier

Once the moon had claimed him, Jaskier changed into a spirit of nature

His eyes were an unnatural shade of blue, and his pale skin would take on an ethereal glow at night

He has a number of abilities, including healing, he can manipulate shadows and moonlight

He also has some degree of control over the tides and is a skilled archer after his mother insisted he learn to fight with some sort of mundane weapon

Jaskier was raised by his mother, the moon, and considers many of the other spirits of nature his family

He had been traveling the continent for fifty years when he meets Geralt in Posada

Jaskier had never wanted to get attached to anyone outside of his many flings and dalliances, but the second he met the witcher he knew he was screwed

He didn’t know exactly how screwed he was until after the elves, and several weeks of following this man who thought he was a monster but did everything he could to help others who only hated him in turn that he realized, oh

Oh fuck I’m in love with him

And there was one big problem, well actually several problems if you counted yennefer, but the main problem was that Geralt thought Jaskier was human

Geralt still thought Jaskier was going to die on him one day, even though the bard was immortal and clearly hadn’t aged a day in the twenty years they had traveled together

Geralt was also, an idiot

Yennefer had known by the second time they had ever crossed paths when she commented on his glowing aura, that only the magically inclined were able to see

Twenty years and counting and Geralt had yet to realize that humans did not also have the same ability as witchers to see perfectly in the dark, or the light footed grace to never step on a single branch when gallivanting through the woods

Humans also can’t wrap shadows around themselves and their enemies or move the tides and Jaskier fantasized more and more about the lectures he would give to Geralt’s witcher dad Vesemir about his obviously failed lessons, if they ever were to meet

More than twenty years of Jaskier following Geralt across the continent, loving him, composing songs about him, and fucking glowing at night (how the absolute HELL Geralt hadn’t noticed was beyond him)

And then, the mountain

Following the mountain Jaskier allowed himself three months to mope and wallow in his sorrows

Jaskier decides to travel on his own once more, exploring the world once more and performing the nature spirit duties he’s been neglecting for the past twenty years

One night he’s wandering through the woods not far from Skellige when he hears the sounds of a violent fight

He rushes through the trees, ears ringing with the clash of steel, feeling the presence of powerful magic in the air

Finally he gets to a clearing and he’s shocked to find Yennefer, Geralt, and a little blond girl (Ciri, his mind supplies), surrounded by a pack of monsters

All of them fight fierce but it is obvious they are wearing down, and as the m0nsters close in they are forced closer and closer to a cliff’s edge, where the ocean waits in a steep drop below

Jaskier doesn’t spare himself a moment to think of heartbreak before he is acting

The shadows and moonlight bend to his will, holding the monsters in place, just out of reach of Geralt, Yennefer, and Ciri

There is only a brief second of pause for the three to notice the monsters have been trapped before Jaskier is feeling a tug in his stomach, a buildup of power, and with a flick of his hand the ocean is surging forward and dragging the monsters off the cliff and below to drown watery deaths

Jaskier is so distracted with making sure the monsters will never harm anyone again that he forgets the people in front of him

His fury is interrupted when a confused, “Jaskier?” rings out across the clearing

He whips around to see three astonished faces staring back at his, uncomprehending of what is before them

He knows how he must look, unhindered by a glamour

His blue eyes are bright, his skin shining with a steady glow

Jaskier’s features are ethereal and delicate, but there is an undeniable power in his stance

The bard forces a smile across his lips, and he knows it is strained but to other eyes it also charms

“Hello there,” he calls across the clearing, “It looked like you needed a hand there”

Geralt (and oh god it's been so long since he’s seen his face and it's just as lovely and beautiful as ever) is decidedly not amused. “What the fuck was that?” he doesn’t ask, he demands

Jaskier knows he must tread lightly, and he kind of wants to laugh and cry all at once, but he shoves it down because now is not the time to be emotional. “You see, it’s kind of a long story.…”

And even across the clearing Jaskier can see the fierceness in Geralt’s eyes, the burning desire for answers, and a small degree of pleading underneath it all. They lock eyes, and Geralt says, “We’ve got time.”

785 notes · View notes

dreamwritesimagines · 4 years

Text

Beautiful and Damned 5- New Threats [Geralt of Rivia x Reader]

A.N: My darlings, your great feedback makes me so happy, thank you! Please don’t forget to tell me what you think of this chapter, kisses!

Reminder: This story will not follow the show’s plot, so even if you haven’t watched the series, you can still read it.

The previous chapters are on my masterlist!

Summary: Court can be a dangerous place for many.

Word Count: 3191

Warnings: Mentions of violence and death.

So, maybe the last few days had been quite tense. Maybe you still had some very specific dreams about Geralt, even though you were still furious at him.

Maybe you thought about what he had said to you in that hallway over and over and over again.

Just maybe.

Maybe, the whole reason why you had insisted to practice drawing with Ciri was to catch a sight of him- to glare at him.

Nothing more.

“No, I give up.” Ciri’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts and you turned your head.

“What? No!” you took a look at her sketch, “That’s not bad at all.”

“Not good either,” she pointed out and you raised your brows,

“I should tell Fin to show you some sketches I made when I was your age,” you said, “He still keeps them, possibly to make fun of me.”

Ciri let out a laugh as you leaned your head back to the tree trunk, then shielded your eyes from the sun.

“Fin is coming.” Ciri said and you turned your head, then waved at your brother who approached you, then sat down next to you.

“Morning.”

“Morning,” you said, “Can you please tell Ciri of my drawings when I was her age?”

“They were good.”

“Fin!”

“What? They were.”

“Told you,” Ciri said and you shook your head.

“Don’t believe him,” you told her, “Does mother still need Cassie?”

Fin nodded, “Yeah. Tried to save her but mother shooed me away- this is still better than when I try to draw,” he motioned at Ciri’s parchment and she arched a brow.

“You’re just saying that,” she said, and looked up when you heard her name being called. Your heart started slamming against your chest and Ciri made a face.

“I’m not Roach, Geralt, say what you are saying here,” she called out and out of the corner of your eye, you could see Fin’s eyes narrow as he sat up straighter beside you, keeping his gaze on Geralt. You pursed your lips and made yourself busy with your own parchment as Geralt and Jaskier approached you.

“Come on,” Geralt told her and she put her parchment beside her, but then frowned for a moment and looked between you as the silence fell upon all of you.

“Oh no,” she said, “What did you do?”

“Ciri.”

“No I’m serious, what happened?” she turned to you, “What did he do?”

You looked up from your parchment and raised your brows, “I don’t know what you’re talking about. Sir Geralt.”

“Your highness.”

Ciri groaned, “Fin?”

“If she doesn’t know, I don’t know either.”

“Geralt?”

“Hm?”

She rolled her eyes, “Never mind, Jaskier can tell me.”

“I won’t.” Jaskier said as Fin’s gaze wandered off to him before snapping back to Geralt. Ciri stood up,

“I’ll find you later,” she said, and walked past Geralt, making him pinch the bridge of his nose.

“Jaskier,”

“I’ll be right behind you, give me a moment,” he told him, and Geralt left without so much as sparing you a glare.

You tried to ignore the sudden pang of pain shooting through you, but managed to turn your glances to Jaskier.

“Yes?” you asked him, and he cleared his throat.

“Your majesty, I was wondering if I- if….” He licked his lips, “If your maid is spoken for.”

Fin tilted his head like a confused puppy, his eyes narrowing once again as you raised your brows.

“Cassandra?”

“Yes.”

“You’d like to know if Cassandra is spoken for.” You smiled slightly, “Well, you have quite the competition then. Everyone in the court wants her favor. Lords included.”

“I think I got this, sister.” Fin stopped you and leaned back, “What is your name, bard?”

“Jaskier.”

“Never mind, I’ll just call you bard. What are your intentions?”

Jaskier looked between you, “My intentions?”

“Regarding my beautiful, beloved Cassie. What are your intentions?”

“I just….” Jaskier swallowed thickly, “Uh- I’d just like to know her better.”

Fin tut tutted, “See,” he said, “You’re a good looking man. Isn’t he a good looking man, sister?”

“I’d like to know what fault I have committed to deserve being a part of this conversation.” You muttered dryly, and Fin motioned at Jaskier’s face.

“You know, bright blue eyes and sweet voice and-“ he cleared his throat, “That is if you are into that sort of thing. But Cassie is our precious jewel, and a bard with not so serious intentions….” He clicked his tongue, and you rolled your eyes.

“Fin, stop scaring him off,” you reprimanded him, “Cassie likes flowers. You might as well make use of them while introducing yourself.”

“Or don’t introduce yourself.”

“Fin.”

“That’s also an option.”

“Don’t listen to him,” you said, “Flowers are a nice touch.”

Jaskier nodded, “Thank you,” he smiled and rushed to catch up with Geralt and Ciri, and you turned to Fin.

“Speaking of love,” you said, “Are we having that conversation yet?”

He had the audacity to look clueless, “What conversation?”

“You know what conversation.”

Fin pressed his lips together and turned his gaze to the court, crossing his arms, “I’m fine.”

“No you’re not.”

“Y/N.”

“Fin.” You insisted, “You’re not fine.”

“Yeah, maybe I’m not fine because no one else but me in this damn court seems to know how it feels not to be able to touch the object of one’s desire,” he snapped and for a couple of seconds you gawked at him as what he had just said dawned on him.

“Oh I’m especially dumb today,” he told you, “Have you noticed that? I woke up dumb this morning.”

You scoffed a laugh, “It’s alright,” you said, “Who is it then?”

He clicked his tongue, and closed his eyes, leaning his head back.

“I’m afraid my heart will stay a desert, sister,” he mumbled and even if you wanted to ask again, you knew Fin way too well to do so.

He would tell you, eventually. When you least expected him to.

It had been like that since you were children.

“It won’t.” you heard yourself say, and he opened his eyes.

“How do you know?”

You shrugged slightly, “It would be terribly unfair if both of us were unhappy,” you murmured, “One victim is enough for a family. Fate could at least spare you.”

He squeezed your upper arm over your long sleeved dress and you smiled at him, then leaned back to the tree again, closing your eyes for a moment of peace.

***

Thankfully, your mother was so distracted by the preparations of the guests’ room that she barely had any free time, so that crossed out the possibility of her asking you about embroideries or Fin, or anything really. By the time Cassie was allowed to come back to you, it was almost night but you had already lost the track of time due to being so engrossed in your sketching.

It was almost strange, drawing him. Normally, you needed a model in order to draw them correctly, to have someone or something to sit still in front of you, but Geralt had somehow burned himself into your memory that you thought you could draw him with your eyes closed.

No matter how much you despised what he had done.

“Your majesty?” Cassie knocked on the door and cracked it open, “Hello. I just wanted to say I’m back.”

“Oh come in, come in!” you told her as you put the sketch under the others so that she wouldn’t see, “Fin tried to save you twice, and I sent a maid. Mother just doesn’t seem to want to let you go.”

She let out a laugh, “It’s quite alright, it’s my job.”

“Your job isn’t to help my mother.”

“Your mother is the queen, your majesty. It’s everyone’s job in this castle.”

You shook your head slightly, “I suppose,” you mumbled, and Cassie walked to the big bowl on the table, spilled some liquid from the small vials and added water before the nice smell spread over the room.

“Your brother was reprimanded though.”

“By mother?”

“Yes,” she looked up at you and started tidying up the table, “I suppose the queen does not really like when the future king says “Leave my beloved be, I need her to discuss our wedding.”, who knew?”

You rubbed your eyes, “I’m going to smack Fin.”

“He has a good heart.” Cassie let out a laugh, “Can you imagine if he really was in love with me?”

“Oh trust me, you would want to divorce him if that ever happened. I pity his future wife.”

Cassie shook her head slightly, still smiling and your head shot up,

“I forgot to tell you,” you said, “You have another admirer.”

She raised her brows, “What?”

“Yes, Gera- um, the witcher’s bard. Jaskier.”

“Dark haired, blue eyes?”

“Yeah, that one,” you scoffed, “Poor thing, Fin intimidated him I think. He does look quite sweet though, wouldn’t you agree?”

Cassie curled her lips, shrugging and you walked to your mirror, grabbed your comb but both of you turned your heads when a blood-curdling scream reached into the chamber, along with the hurried footsteps and shouting.

You felt your blood freeze in your veins and Cassie held her breath, taking a step back while you put your comb down, trying to control your breathing. Both of you had been in the castle for way too long not to know what it meant.

If you heard a scream the middle of the night, it meant someone was either in danger, or was already killed.

You rushed to the door to swing it open as a guard came to block your way.

“Your highness-“

“Who is it?” you managed to ask through panic, “Fin-?”

“No, prince Fintan is alright, please go back to-“

“Who is it?!” you snapped at him and he licked his lips, exchanging glances with Cassie.

“Prince Tiernan.” The guard said, making your eyes widen,

“Did he-?”

“Someone has him, in the second hall. They’re trying to- princess!” he shouted after you as you bolted for the second hall, lifting your skirts a little to run faster. Your heart was beating in your ears, you could swear the fear had taken a hold of your body but you managed to reach the second hall, which was quite crowded with a lot of people staring at-

One corner.

The man was holding your baby brother who seemed to cry his eyes out, trying to reach for your mother who looked almost frozen, staring at them. The blade against Tiernan’s neck made the hair behind your neck rise but your eyes caught a sight of Fin, who had cornered the man and was standing still, maybe not even breathing as he held his sword against him, ready to attack the moment he made a move.

“Whoever paid you for this, we can pay more.” Your father’s voice was almost too calm, as Cassie reached you and covered her mouth. Fin’s sharp, fiery glare was unwavering as the man chuckled.

“You think this is about payment?” he asked, “You couldn’t afford my loyalty.”

“There’s no way out of this,” Fin growled, “Give me the baby.”

“Take one step and I will make his death slower.”

“Stay here,” you murmured through frozen lips and Cassie frowned,

“Your majesty-“

“Stay here.” You repeated as you made your way out of the hall, and looked around.

When you were children, one of your favorite games to play with Fin was hide and seek. By the time you were eight, you had already memorized every single hidden passage in the court, and second hall, just like all the other halls, had one.

You dragged your fingertips over the wall, then as soon as you found the spot, you pushed it and walked into the secret passage. The smell of dust almost made you gag, but you covered your mouth with your arm and kept walking until you reached the entrance, and slowly, very slowly pushed it so as not to make a noise. Fin’s eyes found you over the man’s shoulder before they snapped back to him.

“Who’s making you do this?” he asked to get his attention, and the man chuckled.

“I volunteered,” he spat, “This is an honor.”

“It’s an honor to harm a child?” Fin asked him as you swallowed thickly, barely hearing them over the sound of your own heartbeat. You flexed your fingers, taking a step closer and raised your hand, holding your breath.

“When this is over, Prince Fintan-“ the man said, “All of you will be dead.”

You could feel the fury roaring through you at the threat, and that somehow made the fear go away for a moment, making everything clearer in your head.

Then you touched his neck.

It was almost too easy, really. It barely took a second until his breath was caught in his throat, his body going limp and Fin threw his sword aside to catch Tiernan before he fell to the ground with the man. Tiernan let out a bawl, holding onto Fin as tight as he could before Fin pressed a kiss on his head, then handed him to your mother and rushed to you.

“Are you alright?”

You kept your gaze on the man lying on the ground, his eyes open but almost blank before you managed to nod.

“Yes.” You murmured, “I am. Are you?”

Fin raised his hand to squeeze your arm, but stopped when he saw that he had no gloves.

“It’s alright,” your voice was almost numb like the rest of you before you raised your glances to Fin, who nodded at you and took a deep breath.

And right in front of you, he turned into a king.

“Tell the guards to lock the gates,” he ordered, and grabbed his sword from the guard who brought it, “Everyone will return to their chambers.”

“Fin-“

“I got this, father,” he said, “Mother, you stay with Tiernan, there will be at least five guards- you, by the hall, grab four men and escort them.”

“Yes my prince.”

“Cassie, you and my sister go back to her chambers, send someone to check on Ciri as well.”

“Of course your highness.”

“Commander Bradan, I want every room searched, any suspicious letter will be brought to me.”

“Yes my prince.”

“Commander Marcel, you and your men, follow me.” Fin turned around and walked out of the hall, cutting through the crowd while you tried your hardest not to look at the men, the bile burning your throat.

Just like that.

Easy as that.

Neither your mother nor your father made any attempt of talking with you. You all just stood there for a moment as the whispers circled you, reminding you that there were people watching.

No emotions, no weakness.

Even if you felt like you could faint, you took a deep breath, threw your shoulders back and followed your mother and father out of the hall, all of you going in different directions without saying anything to each other as soon as you were out.

Deep breaths.

In and out.

Keep walking.

***

You had sent Cassie to her room, insisting that you needed some time after the events of the night, and that you would eventually go to sleep.

You knew you wouldn’t be able to.

You had almost forgotten how easy it was for you to kill somebody. While it was true that you had made sure you wouldn’t touch anyone, always kept your distance and kept your gloves on whenever you were outside, the feeling itself had grown cold, like a distant memory, until tonight.

The slight creak coming from the window made you turn your head and you swung your legs over the bed to stand up, frowning.

Another attempt?

You could feel the nervousness filling your system once more and you looked around the room, then grabbed the huge golden candelabra, and walked to the window to stand right beside it, holding the candelabra over your head. You held your breath, and as soon as the figure pushed the window open and jumped into the room you slammed it over their stomach, the impact making you trip as he grunted and grabbed the candelabra to snatch it from your hands-

“Geralt?!” you exclaimed, instantly letting go of the candelabra and covering your mouth, “Oh Gods, are you alright?!”

He nodded, rubbing at the spot and shot you a strange look.

“What are you doing?”

“What are you doing?!” you asked back, “Why are you climbing through my window?”

“They locked the whole castle down while I was in the woods. You can kill people by touch and candelabra is your weapon of choice?” he asked you, making your heart skip a beat as what had happened before flashed through your mind, while Geralt tilted his head.

“Were you crying?”

You sniffled and rubbed at your eyes before walking away from him to sit down on your bed.

“I could vouch for you, you should’ve just sent a guard.”

“Why were you crying?”

“Ciri is fine.”

“Why were you crying?”

“So you have no reason to worry, we made sure of that-“

“Princess,” he cut you off, obviously not in the mood for these games, “Why were you crying?”

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat and rubbed your temples,

“Because,” you murmured, “They should’ve never let me out of that damn tower. I should’ve stayed there, no matter how much Fin and I begged father.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I killed someone,” you blurted out, “Tonight. He was going to hurt Tiernan, so I touched him and I killed him.”

“Princess-“

“I don’t feel bad about it.” You interrupted him, “At all. That’s why they should’ve left me there to rot, a good person feels bad about taking somebody’s life.”

“You stopped a grown man trying to hurt a baby.”

“By killing him.”

“Actions have consequences, sounds like he deserved it.”

“What about the next one?”

He frowned, “The next one?”

“Who’s to say it will be just him?” you asked him, “Who’s to say it won’t be someone that I don’t want to hurt, someone that I care about? What if it’s Fin, or Cassie, or-“ you wiped your eyes, sniffling, “Or you.”

A silence fell upon the room and you let out a bitter chuckle, looking up at him.

“Can you promise that I won’t hurt you?”

He stared at you for a couple of seconds, as if trying to see whether you were lying to him or not, but in the end he took a step towards you, then crouched down so that you could be eye to eye while you sat still on the bed.

“I can promise that I will do whatever it takes to make sure you don’t cry again,” his voice was low, and you blinked back tears, nodding slowly before wiping your eyes.

“Geralt if anyone sees you here you will be in trouble.”

He smiled slightly, “Right. Staring at each other, how dare we?”

A giggle you couldn’t stop left your lips and you bit down on your lip, stealing a look at his golden eyes that seemed to hold a soft light contrary to the usual.

“I’m glad you’re back safe,” you said as you sniffled and he raised his brows.

“Are you?”

“Of course I am.”

His eyes searched yours, then he cleared his throat,

“Princess, if I upset you,” he said “With my actions lately, it wasn’t….my intention.”

You licked your lips, suddenly feeling nervous as your stomach made a flip.

“I was merely under the impression that-“ you started, but then looked up when both of you heard the loud ring of the city bell.

Once, twice, three times-

Four. It rang four times.

“What does that mean?” Geralt asked and you swallowed thickly, trying your hardest not to focus on the last time you had heard it.

“Confinement.” You managed to say, “Of the city. No one goes in, no one goes out.”

He cussed under his breath and stood up, “I should-“

“Find Ciri. She’s in her chambers with two guards by her door, I made sure of that.” You stood up as well, “Go.”

He nodded before rushing out of your chambers and you walked to the window, then leaned your elbows on the sill and closed your eyes, the bell still ringing in your ears.

***

Taglist1: @rhabakoli @rmwest94 @theskytraveler @alwaysadreamingoptimist @marymegger @addictedtofictionalcharacters @bubblegumnnebula @justnerdystuffs @alytavzla @wickedrum @billywig-on-baker-street @thorohdamnson @abroadcastofthemind @siriusement @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme @deputy-videogamer @geekyweed @tranquility-or-chaos @szhead31 @marvel-mystery @kahnacademyforfun @mellxander1993 @becs-bunker @mersers-moonypadfoot-prongs @flawedwanderer @onebatch–twobatch @emyyjemyy @theazm10 @darcia22 @imabookworm31 @secret-jester @peakyhardy @i-am-always-famished @nylalushlifexx @superwolfchild-fan @eleanorsparkz @never-saygood-bye @alina-barnes @teapartydreams @actuallyazriel @katalina-from-hellbound @greensadmoon @random-quartz @thenoblenomad @marauderskeeper @curlyhairedblueeyedangel @tessxblxckthorn @crazyandanonymous4u @a-banana-for-your-thoughts @firefly-in-darkness @shut-up-broccoli @ms-baekhyun @hangirl93 @nothingeverdies @beyond-the-ashes @loredanalore @annimalq @wasntpriscilla @unlikelyrsoulcollector @maelloute @claitynthewitcher @dreamers-wonderland @lettersofwrittencollective @sfyri

#the witcher #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia imagines #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt imagine #geralt imagines #the witcher imagine #the witcher imagines #geralt x reader #geralt #imagine #the witcher x reader #imagines #beautiful and damned

2K notes · View notes

roughentumble · 4 years

Text

geralt and roachie

@avrupasya asked for a fic/continuation of this post of mine, where modern au geralt’s roach is a stuffed animal. sortve told in, like, vignettes, i suppose?

[read on ao3 if you like!]

The one constant in Geralt's short, stressful life, is Roachie. The little brown stuffed horse, named after a fish with similarly colored eyes("I'm gonna' study animals when I'm big!" he proclaims to anyone who will listen, which isn't many, so he whispers it into his horse's mane instead) has been with him long enough that he has no memories without her in some peripheral corner-- clenched in his fist, sitting on his blanket, overflowing from a fit-to-bursting pocket of his shorts. She's been with him through two houses now. He likes to think that she was given to him the day he was born, that they'd never been separated, but he can hardly ask anyone for confirmation. It's just one of those certainties you hold in your heart as a child.

So of course, for his seventh birthday, a dog eats her.

(The kicker is that it isn't even his birthday. It's a government assigned day that may or may not be in the vicinity of the actual day of his birth. It's not like he was dropped off at the fire station with paperwork or anything. He is vaguely, sort of, aware of this, just enough that it feels like an extra kick while he's down.)

She is utterly and completely beyond repair. Her shape isn't even recognizable, and for all his inconsolable tears, she's gathered up and unceremoniously dumped in the trash.

He cries when he finds her, cries through dinner, cries late into the night, cries until he is informed by one of his caretakers through what seems to be a rather impressive headache that if he doesn't stop crying, he would be "given something to cry about," which...

He already had something to cry about. Hence the crying.

He chews on his fist, however, startled into silence by the shouting, and hiccups softly into his pillow. Even as he's left alone, in the dark, he can't settle-- the thought of Roach thrown away like garbage is one that just doesn't sit right with him. He waits until the house is silent, into the wee hours of the morning, then sneaks on silent feet to the kitchen. He rustles through the trash as quietly as he can, pulling out pieces of his old friend, now not simply in tatters but also covered in what was left of dinner.

He nearly loses it at the sight of her, destroyed and filthy. Tears well in his eyes, blurring the world around him, and he sniffles once, weakly, but he doesn't want to wake anyone, and who knows what they'd do if they found him rooting through the trash, so he steels his resolve. Stomps down on the urge to give into another round of crying fits.

The night air is cold against his hot, sticky face. It's refreshing, but he barely notices it as he shuffles into a far corner of the yard. He digs a shallow hole with his hands and reverently lays her body inside. He covers her back up, tamps the earth back down with his palms, and then sits back on his heels. He's a little too young to fully understand what goes on in a funeral-- he's never seen one before, after all-- but he's seen TV, and he knows you're supposed to say something nice, so he says something to the effect of "Roachie was the bestest friend, an' the prettiest horse, there ever was in the whole entire world," and then sits in silence for a few moments longer, sniffling in the cold night air.

He suddenly recalls headstones, and he doesn't have any rocks-- doesn't know how to carve words into one-- but he does see a stick nearby. He shoves it in the ground like a stake and looks over his work. About as good as any grave dug by a seven-year-old could hope to be. He stays there until the cold starts making the tip of his nose and the joints of his fingers hurt, and then he stumbles back inside and curls up in bed.

He's moved to a new house a week later.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He starts skipping lunches. He goes to school hungry, and comes home hungrier, and devours his dinners in this new house voraciously.

Every penny that would be spent on school lunches gets shoved in his pocket, then consolidated and shoved in his sock drawer when he gets home. Once he's gotten a decently-sized pile, he gathers it all up in his tiny little fists, shoves it in his pockets, and walks all the way to the local thrift store.

He'd gotten it into his head, somehow, that Roach still existed. Some childish idea that'd popped into his head as a comfort, and that got ingrained in his mind as he repeated it to himself over and over at night. He'd seen the rags, of course, what'd become of her after the dog had had it's way, he knew she was buried in the dirt a state away... but the core "soul" of his Roachie, that'd been with him and loved him and cared for him, was out there, in some other brown stuffed horse, waiting to be found again.

He marches into the toy section in the back of the thrift store with the determination of a soldier on a rescue mission.

And at the bottom of the bin, underneath all the teddy bears and off-brand babydolls, is one single brown stuffed horse.

Logic would dictate a coincidence-- but to his little eyes it looks a lot like magic.

He snatches her up instantly and runs to the front of the store, lest anything come and rip her from his arms again. He has to stand on his tip-toes, but he pushes her up on the counter, then pushes over the pile of money and asks if it's enough. The old lady looks at his pile, then pushes her glasses down the bridge of her nose to get a better look at the tag on the horse's ear. She squints, then glances at his wide, desperate eyes. "Well!" She announces. "Would you look at that. That's the exact right amount. Must be fate." Then winks down at him.

He gasps loudly, eyes getting impossibly wider. Fate-- Roach really had been waiting for him! He reaches up and makes a grabbing motion with his hands. "Can, can I... can I hold her, then?"

"She's all yours." The woman says gently, and places it in his waiting arms.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Roach stays with him all the way to the doorstep of the Kaer Morhen Home for Wayward Boys. He's thirteen, and she has a few weak seams, a few patches where the fur's been worn away. She's heavily loved, and he hasn't spent a night without her since they were "reunited". He's worn as well-- tired of the constant cycle of new places, new "families".

A few months later, with no prospect of leaving in sight, he takes back his wish for someplace permanent.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He rooms with a boy named Eskel, who is about the only bright spot in Kaer Morhen, as far as Geralt is concerned. He is only mildly mocking of a thirteen year old sleeping with a stuffed animal every night, and it's mostly companionable ribbing, so even though the thought of anyone mocking Roachie gets under his skin, he lets it go. Eskel is his friend, after all. Of course, though, because that's the way of the world, some older boys overhear Eskel's teasing.

He comes back to his and Eskel's room that night, expecting to find Roach under his pillow-- he's too old to carry her everywhere, now, so that's where she lives-- and instead she's strewn across his bed.

He's old enough, now, to know that it maybe looks a little ridiculous from the outside, but he's too upset to be self-conscious, and Eskel is nothing if not understanding as Geralt sobs into his shoulder that night, quiet except for the occasional little soothing noise as he strokes a hand up and down Geralt's trembling back.

It's unsalvageable, at least for their inexperienced hands. Neither of them is a seamstress. After lights out, Geralt sneaks out-- this time with Eskel in tow-- and creeps into the backyard. Just like last time, he silently digs a hole and places her inside. That's what you do with Roaches, after all-- you bury them, then you find her all over again. The idea of Roach not existing out there, somewhere, is inconceivable.

He curls up next to Eskel that night, and it isn't the same, and he doesn't quite sleep... but it helps.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

His first Roach had been about the side of a Beanie Baby, and had been a light, palomino sort of color. His second had been more the size of a Build-A-Bear, with slightly stiff limbs and brown fur so dark it was nearly black. The third time he finds Roach, she's a reddish sort of Bay, peeking out at him from behind a large Lego set on the thrift store shelf.

He'd already searched the bins three times and had come up empty-handed, not even a miscolored unicorn, or something else close-but-wrong to show for his efforts, and... there she is, sitting right there, like it's some sort of game. He gasps, and Eskel turns away from the slightly melted Barbies he'd been toying with at the sound. Geralt shoves the box aside and grabs at her, cradling her carefully in his hands. She's already a little on the worn side this time around-- one eye's a bit loose-- and she's right in the middle, size-wise, compared to her other two incarnations.

He loves her instantly.

It must show on his face, because Eskel laughs a little and throws an arm around his shoulders. "So, is this the fated horse, then?" He asks, teasing.

"Yeah," Geralt replies breathlessly, too excited to meet the teasing tone back, "I think so."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lambert shows up when he's thirteen and they're both sixteen.

He's loud, and violent, and instantly hones in on Geralt's preternaturally graying hair and the shock of white growing out of the back of his head(poliosis, born from stress, though none of them know that term). He's inhumanly annoying, a real pain in the ass, and somehow, against all odds, Geralt and Eskel both instantly adore him.

Maybe it's the way he talks back to their "caregivers", or the way he sometimes gets into fights on smaller kids' behalf, who knows, but the three of them form a little clique fairly quickly. Lambert pretends it's begrudging, but it's not hard to see that it's mostly a front. He's a brat, through and through, but he's their brat.

Which is why he's even in their room-- they're all hanging out, Geralt flipping through a book and Eskel attempting to study, while Lambert fiddles with Roach. He turns her over in his hands, examines the spot where the loose eye had fallen off a year back, picks at one of her loose seams. "I just don't get it," he says, scrunching up his nose, "like. What does it do?" He asks.

"Be careful with her." Geralt says, flicking a glance over at Lambert before returning to his book. "And she doesn't do anything. She's a stuffed animal, she just sits there."

"Well, yeah, no duh." Lambert replies, rolling his eyes. "I'm not stupid." Eskel mumbles 'Could've fooled me,' from his own bed, and Lambert hisses back 'Watch it,' and kicks his leg as he snickers. "I mean, what do you do with it? Give it wots and wots of hugs and kissews?" He asks mockingly. He's holding her by the front legs, wiggling them up and down like some sort of dance and shoving her in Geralt's direction. He's about to tell Lambert to knock it off, trying to bat him out of the way to continue reading when, one of her legs just... pops off. There's a stunned moment where Lambert just stares at the two pieces in his hands.

A strangled noise works its way out of Geralt's throat, and he snatches Roach out of Lambert's hands.

"I-- I didn't mean..." He tries, looking between Geralt and Eskel helplessly, but the tears are already welling up as Geralt clutches her closer to his chest.

"Oh, shit," Eskel mutters and scrambles to his side drawer, which hides in the bottom a small sewing kit. Lambert slips out of the room in between Geralt sobbing and Eskel rushing to reattach the limb.

The fabric is weak enough around the seam, and Eskel is inexperienced enough at sewing, that the limb is noticeably shorter than the rest, but she's whole and in one piece by the end of the night.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lambert awkwardly shuffles in place in their doorway the next day. "I-- fuck, man, I really didn't mean to..." He mutters, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Geralt holds Roach a little closer. "It's fine," he says tersely, "but no one's allowed to touch Roach anymore. Ever." He says firmly.

"Yeah, no, that works." Lambert tentatively steps into the room and then, when he isn't shooed out and no one starts crying, grows a bit bolder, sitting down on the edge of Eskel's bed. "I mean, except for nursemaid Eskel over here, right?" He says jokingly, and earns himself a punch on the shoulder from Eskel.

"Piss off, ya' little brat." He mutters fondly.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Years pass and Geralt and Eskel age out of Kaer Morhen. They get an apartment, split the costs, because they've basically never not shared a room, and they need all the shoulders to lean on they can get. All they really get is each other, so they settle for that. A few more years and Lambert is shoved out at the healthy age of eighteen-- just like they were. He's invited to their little apartment, and he's loud, and complains that he went from one roommate to two, bitches about how they're both sticks-in-the-mud who don't know how to have fun, and that they snore, and that he'll never get a good night's rest.

It's exactly what they were missing, and Roach watches all of it from her spot on the shelf near Geralt's bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Then, Geralt meets Jaskier.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first time Jaskier comes over, Eskel and Lambert are both at work, so they have the apartment to themselves. Geralt opens the fridge to pull out two beers, and Jaskier flounces past him towards the shared bedroom. "I'm gonna' go root through your stuff without permission." He announces teasingly as he opens the door and slips inside.

Geralt snorts and rolls his eyes, taking his time popping open both bottles. He hears an exaggerated 'oooohh, interesting,' from the other room and carries the beers to his room. "There's really not much here to see." He says as he bumps the door open with his hip.

"Oh, I don't know about that." Jaskier replies from his place on Geralt's bed. "Who's this little cutie, huh?" His tone is light, teasing, and he's got Roach in his lap, playing with her ears.

Panic crawls up Geralt's throat-- she's old, now, and her ears were always a weak point. It's been years since he was sixteen, and her leg had come off so easily back then, so now... he shouts something strangled at Jaskier, maybe 'no' or 'stop', he isn't really sure, and Jaskier looks up with wide, startled eyes. He rushes over and drops the bottles on his night stand before scooping Roach out of Jaskier's hands. He doesn't yank-- terrified of what might happen to her stitching if he did-- but he isn't nice about it either.

He ignores Jaskier's stammering entirely, swiping his hand across her shelf to make sure there isn't any dust, before carefully sitting her precisely where she'd been. His hands tremble a little as they hover in the air in front of her, waiting to make sure she didn't fall, glancing over her to make sure nothing was out of place, that she still had all her limbs. After a moment, he lets out a shaky breath and steps back from the shelf.

"No one touches Roach." He says firmly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," Jaskier starts, and Geralt whirls on his heel, grabs Jaskier's wrist.

"Swear it." He says, squeezes Jaskier's wrist tight. "Swear you won't touch her."

"I won't." He sounds a little mystified at the afternoon's sudden turn, but he gently places his other hand over Geralt's. "I promise."

Geralt deflates a little with relief, loosens his grip and lets Jaskier's wrist slip from between his fingers. "She's..." he starts quietly, eyes averted, guilt and embarrassment creeping in over his sudden outburst. "She's really fragile. I... I didn't mean to... just, please don't touch her." He finishes weakly.

Jaskier agrees once more, reaches out and squeezes Geralt's hand reassuringly. They drink their beer in the living room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Months pass and his friendship with Jaskier deepens.

Then, he meets Yen.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hmm." She says thoughtfully, arms crossed over her chest. "I like your stupid little horse."

Her tone is light, teasing, and it strikes him right through the heart all the same. But, at least she isn't trying to touch Roach. He pulls her down into his bed, and the conversation is forgotten.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

They dance around each other like that for far longer than either reasonably should. Fuck, then fight, then silent treatment, only to fall back into bed and start the cycle anew.

He cares, really he does, and he knows Yen cares back, in her own way, but it's just all so... much. It's a little hard to take, most nights. As he lays there, unable to sleep, he catches sight of Roach out of the corner of his eye. His bed is cold and lonely, and thoughts of Yen won't stop swirling around his mind, and he just... he just wants to feel settled. Before he can talk himself out of it, he's carrying Roach down off her perch and curling around her to sleep with his old friend for the first time in a long time.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few months later, Jaskier uses his spare key to open the door to Geralt's apartment after a few rounds of knocking goes ignored.

He's got snacks, and a six-pack of beer that he deposits in the fridge, before calling out into the apartment, announcing his presence. He gets back a muffled 'in here,' and opens the door to the bedroom to find Geralt planted on the middle of his bed, Roach cradled carefully to his chest. "Sorry," he says weakly, sniffling into his palm, "I- I guess I forgot we were supposed to hang out."

Jaskier's by his side in a moment, kneeling in front of him on the bed, gently brushing his hair out of his face. "Oh, Geralt, what happened?"

He shrugs a little, helplessly. "Yen and I broke up." He pauses for a moment, rubbing little circles into the back of Roach's head, and then adds, "For good this time."

Jaskier reaches out and gathers Geralt up in his arms, lets him tuck his face in the crook of his neck. "I'm so sorry..." He mumbles, nosing into Geralt's hair.

"It's fine," Geralt replies weakly, voice cracking, "it was bound to happen sooner or later. We're kinda'... volatile."

Jaskier huffs out a humorless laugh. "Yeah, that you were..." The past-tense on Jaskier's tongue hits Geralt like a bolt to the chest, and he chokes out a sob. "Oh," Jaskier croons back, reaching up to cradle the back of his head, "oh, it's alright... it'll be alright..."

As he collapses forward into Jaskier's arms, he lets himself be soothed by Jaskier's voice, his arms enveloping him, and the softness of Roach's fur beneath his fingers.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A few months later they kiss for the first time there, on his bed, in full view of Roach, which doesn't occur to him until later, but once it does it makes some small part of him wish he'd turned her around. She's seen enough of him, she doesn't need front-row seats to... that.

Then he realizes that she was also there for Yennefer, and he feels a sudden surge of guilt mixed with a healthy dose of shame.

His poor little Roachie.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The first time they fuck in his room, Geralt pauses with his hands on Jaskier's hips, blushing faintly. "Do... do you mind if I...?" He asks nervously.

"What is it, dearest?" Jaskier asks lowly, smoothing his hands up and down Geralt's bare chest, eyes all want and smoldering heat.

Geralt clears his throat awkwardly and lets go of Jaskier for a moment to reach up and carefully turn Roach so she was facing the wall. It's deeply embarrassing, but he hasn't been able to stop thinking about it ever since he had the realization about his time with Yen. He turns back around, expecting to be mocked, but Jaskier looks nothing except fond.

He laughs a little, but not meanly, and wraps his arms around Geralt's neck. "Good call," he says, pressing a kiss into Geralt's cheek, "don't want to subject poor Roachie to anything she didn't sign up for."

The complete lack of judgement, paired with the nickname, has a surge of affection swelling in Geralt's chest. He grabs Jaskier by the hips once more, and gently tosses him onto the bed. Jaskier laughs again, delighted, and opens his arms to grab at Geralt, who happily follows after him.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Geralt, look at this!" Jaskier announces from the couch, tilting his phone screen to the side as Geralt scoots closer and hooks an arm around his shoulders for easier viewing. "It's a stuffed animal repair service, but she runs a blog with pictures of the process and calls herself Doctor Beth. Isn't that the cutest thing?"

"Hmm." Geralt hums back. He glances at the screen, scrolls a little, but he quickly abandons it in favor of burying his face in Jaskier's neck and depositing kisses along its length.

Jaskier laughs and snuggles closer, but holds out his phone screen more insistently. "C'mon, Geraaalt," he whines, "you have to actually look. It's cute! You have to say it's cute."

Geralt flicks his eyes towards the screen once more, then away just as quickly as he deadpans the word "Adorable." right into the curve of Jaskier's jaw.

"You are the worst!" He announces, but he's grinning like a fool, and he turns his head into Geralt's affection all the same.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Once the kissing has died down, and Jaskier is seated side-saddle in Geralt's lap, he pulls his phone back out. "In all seriousness," he says, tucked up comfortably against Geralt's chest, "it's actually very interesting. She's really good at her job-- look at this, the bear's practically rags before she reconstructs it."

Instead of trying to distract Jaskier again, Geralt dutifully listens, watching the pictures as Jaskier flips through them. She is rather good, he has to admit, and there is something interesting in watching the stuffed animal go from rags to repaired, in the same way it's relaxing to watch an episode of How It's Made. He 'hmm's again, though it's a more thoughtfully, agreeing sort of ‘hmm’ this time.

"I've actually been following her blog for a little while now, and... I was just thinking..." Jaskier fiddles with the edge of his phone case, "maybe you could... send Roach to her, and--"

"No." He says, swift and firm. The playfulness has left his tone entirely, just the thought of sending Roach anywhere enough to make anxiety race through his chest and his palms turn clammy.

Jaskier's mouth twists into a frown. "Oh... sorry. I just... I know she's fragile and I thought this might help, so I--"

Geralt slides a hand up and down Jaskier's back soothingly. "It's alright. Thank you, for thinking of her, just... I... I can't."

He nods in return and straightens up to press a kiss to Geralt's cheek. "Alright, love, whatever you're comfortable with."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Now that Jaskier's said it, though, the thought won't leave Geralt's head. He scrolls through Doctor Beth's blog when he's alone, gets a feel for her track record.

Roachie is fragile now. Close to ten years with him, and she was already thin in some places before he got to her.

On the other hand, does he really trust some stranger on the internet to treat her right? What if she comes back wrong? What if, somehow, she doesn't come back Roach? He reaches out to run his thumb gently across her snout, looking to soothe himself, and watches as little tufts of fur come away under his feather-light touch.

He's already buried two Roaches. He really doesn't want to do again.

"Well, Roachie," he murmurs into the empty room, "third time's the charm, right?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

He is the closest to a nervous wreck that Jaskier's ever seen him in the intervening weeks. He'd packed the box with Roach so delicately, gently surrounding her with bubble wrap so she didn't get knocked around and somehow lose pieces in shipping, and as soon as the box was shipped he took to pacing the apartment and checking his phone every twenty minutes. Jaskier thought it was endearing, if a bit worrying.

It drove Eskel and Lambert up a wall.

There were a lot of movie nights in those weeks in an effort to keep Geralt's mind off of things, but inevitably about halfway through the movie he'd get a bit of a distant look in his eyes and he'd reach down to feel his phone in his pocket, make sure it was where he'd be able to feel it if he got an email.

Waiting to confirm materials, what color cloth to use and what eye matched best with her other in his opinion, what to do about her now rather sparse tail and mane.

Jaskier would touch his arm gently, bring him back to the present, and he'd turn his attention back to the movie, maybe sling his arm around Jaskier's shoulders. It was nice, and very sweet to see him so very concerned, but Jaskier did wish he could do a little more to ease some of Geralt's worries.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

There are, as Jaskier recalls, a few posts where people had sent in video of the results, of them opening the box and seeing their little stuffed animal friend all fixed up. And he knows for a fact Geralt's going to be excited to see Roach again, so when the box finally arrives and Geralt sits down on the couch with it, Jaskier opens up the camera on his phone without much thought.

And then has to set it down almost immediately.

As soon as the box opens, before he could even get his hands on her, big, fat tears start rolling down Geralt's cheeks. Jaskier drops his phone on the table without even bothering to turn off the recording, rushing forward to envelop Geralt in a hug.

Geralt's hands grip the edge of the box so tightly his knuckles turn white, and Jaskier holds him closer, runs his fingers through Geralt's hair soothingly. "What is it, what's wrong?" He asks softly. Geralt shakes his head.

"She just-- she didn't even look this good when I first got her and I--" He's cut off by another sob, and Jaskier holds him a little tighter. "I just can't stop thinking about e- every time she... she broke and I couldn't fix her and I h- had to just... just buy a new one and I... I..."

"Shh, shhh..." Jaskier quiets him gently, pressing a kiss to his temple. "It's alright..."

"I know, I know, she just... she's like new, you know?" He says weakly into Jaskier's shoulder.

That gives Jaskier pause. "Love... are you," he asks incredulously, "are you crying because you're happy?" Geralt nods, and Jaskier can't help the little laugh that escapes him. "Oh, my dear heart..." He murmurs, almost sickeningly fond as he nuzzles into Geralt's hair. "Why don't you pick her up, then? I'm sure she missed you."

Geralt reluctantly pulls back from Jaskier's embrace to look down into the box.

She really does look good as new, and Geralt's almost afraid to touch her. Maybe the new stitching isn't as sturdy as it looks, maybe she'll fall apart in his hands, or maybe she just won't feel right... He sucks in a breath and carefully curls his hands around her. All his breath leaves him in a whoosh.

He holds her in his hands, and something he didn't even know was unsettled, settles in his chest.

As he presses her close to his chest, she still feels like Roach.

Except now she looks like herself again. Whole and complete and strong.

"Thank you," he turns to Jaskier and wraps an arm around him, tugging him in close while the other keeps a hold of Roach, "I never would've done this if you hadn't brought it up. I... Jask... thank you so much."

"Of course, love," he says gently, carding his fingers through Geralt's hair, "got to look out for dear Roachie... where would you be without her, hmm?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"You know, she's so much sturdier now that she's all fixed up." Jaskier points out gently, after a few quiet moments have passed. "She could handle... well. Being handled more, again. She doesn't have to live up on that shelf anymore."

Which, kind of had been the whole point, but Geralt hadn't thought it through in so many words. The tears come back with a vengeance and he sniffles into Jaskier's shoulder, clutches her to his chest firmer than he's dared to in years.

That night, he falls asleep with Jaskier behind him, and his old friend clutched in his arms, and it's maybe a little silly, a little childish, but it's the best sleep he's had in his life.

#witcher tag #writing tag #ogc tag #uh!!! hope u like it #also jaskier definitely gets to cuddle roach at some point now that she's all fixed up #also also. sorry if geralt seems like a crybaby here. i swear he's not its just that we only see him during the few times in his life #that he does cry #pinky promise lol

310 notes · View notes