#geralt of rivia drabble

[velvetcloxds]

if you're too shy- send me a character and a scenario and I'll write a little baby blurb for it

Geralt of Rivia falling in love with a beautiful chubby cottagecore healer, after she helps him, when he is wounded, please? Thank you!

SOFT HANDS | GERALT OF RIVIA

word count: 0.6k

warnings: plus sized reader, not specified per se but definitely implied

You woke up startled by a crash in your kitchen, looking around your room in tired confusion, trying to figure out the time by looking out through the rags you had weaved into makeshift curtains, it was not morning just yet, far from it, but the timing of the intrusion usually only meant one thing- your witcher was there. You stumbled from your bed, pulling one of your blankets with you, covering your nightgown as it did not aid you much in concealing your curves, thin it its design- Geralt never minded though.

"Geralt," you breathed, you were barely awake, stumbling slightly as you found your footing, already smelling him and you were glad that he had managed to bathe before breaking into your home, very considerate of him.

"Good evening, las," he was talking with his mouth full, busying himself among your wooden cabinets, it piqued your interest, making you speed up until you were next to him, his hands hard at work making some sort of stew. "Are you hungry?"

"Let me see first," you were very convincing, voice just soft enough to make him pause to give you a quick glance at his face, new scars, still bleeding as they stretched over the side of his forehead. "Are there more?" he nodded, grunting when you swatted his hands away from the knife and began pulling him to your washroom, the action only possible because of his willingness to follow you. You noted the burning candles he had arranged around the house, knowing you would need the light, always uneasy when he arrived in the dark.

He could not help the sort of amused tilt to his lips as you forced him onto a chair, struggling to remove his armor but he made no attempt to help you, enjoying the little huff and pout the struggle earned from you. When you finally managed to take it off, you threw it to the floor, giving him an unamused glare, not at all fooled by his faux innocent shrug.

You sat down in front of him, folding your legs and shifting the blanket over them, another huff was given as you dragged the bucket of water closer, taking one of the clean cloths from where you had folded them in a pile. Your cheeks burned as you scanned his torso, it was not right, was not fair for that matter that he had that effect on you- none of your other patients had, in fact, you prided yourself on being professional but only Geralt could make you flustered while cleaning his wounds.

"These are fresh," you noted, eyes averted from his as you dragged the wet cloth over his stomach, frowning lightly when he did not flinch. "You know, there are plenty of healers on the road, most if not all of them more suited to treat wounds such as yours," you were done with his chest, drying it with another cloth and wrapping it with strips of cloth that had been soaked in your homemade healing remedy.

"Hmm," a grunt, a familiar sound, a comfortable one. "I prefer coming to you," he stated and shifted lower, leaning his elbows onto his knees so you could easily access his face, a new surge of heat finding your skin at the eyes that soared over your features. "Your hands are the softest," he explained and you nearly pulled away from him, hands just barely keeping still as you wiped lightly at the scar on his face, the other hand gripping his chin to keep him still. "I also do not mind the view," he was being sly, daring, and extremely cruel as he breathed a light chuckle, not missing a single beat of your sporadic heart. "Nor the company," you paused, eyes falling to his without any control and you were stuck, entranced, unable to move or look away, only managing to break the daze when he cleared his throat.

"I assume it would be a waste of breath to ask you to be more careful?" you attempted a change in subject, following the same process as you did for his stomach as you finished up your work.

"Completely," he agreed and you wiped your hands, shaking your head in familiar disapproval as he simply enjoyed the very view he had traveled many miles for. "For what reason would I have for coming to see you if I were?"

"I should go and make myself decent," you dismissed the question, not surprised when he took your hand to help you stand, rough hands uncharacteristically gentle as his thumb brushed your wrist in his hold. "Do you have a place to rest for the night?" he shook his head, he dare not attempt to lie to you with words, tell you that Jaskier had booked the pair of them a room not far from your cottage, because truth be told he rather enjoyed you fussing over him, taking care of him, and he knew you did as well- so, who was he to take that chance from you?

"I was rather hoping you could spare me a room."

"Of course, I will prepare it while you clean my kitchen," he smiled, a true smile, one you had not had the chance to see before but you were grateful you could, it was lovely, dreamlike. He nodded in silent appreciation and agreement, looking down to where he still held onto your hand. "They truly are the softest that I had ever held," he told you and you were the one to smile, a shy smile, warm with affection as you tried to consider how you would survive a whole day with this man in your house when he was insistent on stealing your heart and your sanity.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x yn #geralt of rivia x y/n #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia blurb #geralt of rivia drabble #geralt of rivia oneshot #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia fic #geralt of rivia fanfic #monique's writing events #right where queue left me

[fivequartersoftheorange]

Little Wife

Quick warnings: Oral (female receiving), vaginal fingering, cocky (perhaps slightly OOC) Geralt

----------

Winter has blanketed the world in silver-grey. Bitter cold seeps through the cracks in the doors; the howling wind rattles the windows in their frames and branches, like icy claws, scrape across the roof. 

The room is sweltering from the fire in the hearth. The heat is oppressive, hair sticks to her forehead and to her neck, the sheets damp with sweat. 

Geralt lazes in front of her bended knees; she is spread out before him, dewy cunt on display as he lazily mouths at the seeping wetness. 

"The prettiest cunt I've ever seen," he rasps, desire weighing heavily in his voice. "Practically soaked and all for me, isn't that right little wife?"

A finger parts her folds and Geralt blows hot air into the gleam of her cunt.

"Please," she begs, squirming. "Want you in me."

A low chuckle rises from him, "How so, little wife?" 

"Tongue - cock - just want you please."  

Geralt dips a finger inside her, the rough pad of it sweeping her inner walls, he pumps his finger lazily, chuckling at the whine of protest that leaves her mouth.

"Please, please," sobs wrack her body, "S'not enough."

Anticipation curled and settled low on her belly.

His smile is all teeth; canines flashing in the firelight, predatory and foreboding. 

----------

#geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x female reader #geralt of rivia drabble #geralt of rivia imagine

[cavillanche]

Last Night

A Geralt drabble - OFC wakes up after a night of heavy drinking and finds she's not alone. Rated T ~500 words

_______________________________

The room was spinning before her eyes opened. She gripped the sheets, begging the world to stand still as she groaned.

"I don't think it works that way."

The deep male voice made her bolt up straight. She clasped a hand over her mouth as nausea washed over her. The white-haired man jumped to his feet, and shoved the chamber pot in her hands just in time.

"Haven't seen anyone that shade of green in a long time."

He lay a wet cloth across her neck while she leaned over. The balmy dampness helped to ease the tension that vomiting always gave her.

"Who are you?"

"Geralt."

She stared at him and wiped a large clump of hair from her forehead. He was large. It would have made her wary if he weren't keeping his distance.

"You were in the tavern. I remember you." She slowly looked around the room. "Where are we?"

"My room at the inn next door."

"Your room? Did we—"

"No."

She groaned and put her head in her hands. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?"

"I remember… those men."

"Four of them."

"Yes. Loud, overbearing—"

"Asses."

She laughed and immediately regretted it.

"Sailors," she said. "The downside of being so close to port. I challenged them to drink."

"You did." The corner of his lip turned up. It could barely be called a smile.

"I remember the first one passing out. After that…."

"You outdrank three of them. The fourth held on long enough to have one more than you."

"Ah, damn."

"The tavern declared you the victor. They'd never seen a woman drink like that before."

She smiled. "How did I get here?"

"I didn't like the way some of the men were looking at you after. No one knew who you were or where you're staying, so I brought you back here to sleep it off."

"And where did you sleep?"

He jutted his chin toward the empty space next to her. "It is my bed."

She ran her eyes over him, and her hands over herself. Her clothes were still on properly, and he still wore the clothes from the day before, wrinkled and clearly slept in.

Geralt drew the curtain on the small window aside, and the light split through her head like an ax.

"No. Please close that."

"Sorry. Just checking the sky. I have to head out. Do you have a room?"

"I hadn't gotten one yet."

Geralt shook his head. "Always settle your room before drinking." He dressed himself with his sword and other accessories. "I'll pay for one more night on the way out. You can stay here."

"You don't have to do that."

"I know I don't." He stopped after opening the door. "You'll want to drink a lot of water. It helps."

He closed the door and was gone. She sat staring at the worn wood, left with a pounding head, and a churning stomach.

At least she didn't have to worry about finding a room.

#Henry Cavill #Geralt #Geralt of Rivia #The Witcher #Geralt fic #Geralt drabble #Geralt of Rivia fic #Geralt of Rivia drabble #The Witcher fic #The Witcher drabble #Henry Cavill fic #Henry Cavill drabble #my fic #I made this

[hannibard]

Witchers were feared by all, especially "The Butcher of Blaviken" and yet Jaskier was never scared of Geralt, which made zero sense. Geralt might not have been the emotionless killing machine the Continent made him out to be but Jaskier couldn't have known that.

Afer spending time with him, Geralt realised that it probably had to do with the bard's terrible self-preservation instincts. He got into trouble constantly and always followed Geralt on hunts, no matter how dangerous.

When the witcher once asked him about it the bard replied with his brightest smile: "I'm here for a good time, not a long time". It made Geralt roll his eyes but when he thought about it later, he realized with a chill that the bard meant it.

He already knew there was more to Jaskier than meets the eye. The bard talked nonstop and yet Geralt knew almost nothing about his past. He fleeted through towns and relationships, but nothing was permanent and none lasted. When he thought no one was looking at him he had a melancholic look in his eyes, void of the usual shine.

It always puzzled Geralt but now he couldn't help but face the terrifying truth: Jaskier didn't care at all whether he lived or died.

#drabble #tw implied suicide ideation #i hope someone more equipped than me could write something with this prompt #bc i can't do more than that #the witcher #text #fanfiction #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #my writing #crispy

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Until Sunrise | Geralt of Rivia Drabble

Summary: Geralt doesn’t plan on leaving until sunrise. 

Rating: 18+ (Smut)

Pairing: Geralt x Reader (Y/N)

Tags: smut, prostitution, bathing, Geralt’s thick thighs, mentions of blood, thigh riding, p in v, sex, unprotected sex, orgasms

WC: ± 1K

A/Ns: Not new to smut, but new to Geralt so go easy 🥴🤣 Hope you enjoy my obligatory bathing Geralt turned smut offering to be accepted into The Witcher fanfic world ❤️

The Witcher Masterlist || Support my Writing Here

“Please, sir, allow me.”

Geralt scoffs to himself under his breath, but loud enough that she can hear it. He’s clearly amused by the very title she’s thrown his way. She knows she’s probably a little more coy than the other whores he’s used to, but that’s exactly how she likes to play it. 

“Do you know what I am?” he asks her, obviously still bemused as a smirk plays on his tempting mouth. 

“Of course,” she agrees, unable to stop the playful smirk from curling across her own full lips as she replies. “But you’re still going to pay me handsomely, are you not?” she adds, a playful glint in her eye as she wades through the water towards the witcher. 

She’s unable to take her eyes off of his broad, thick body, the way the blood soaks into his skin, the way the water ripples and laps against the tight muscles underneath, the slight curl in his pale blond hair as the steam of the bath dampens it. Y/N isn’t sure she’s ever seen a more perfect specimen before. If she thought she was pleased to have been selected by The Witcher when he entered the brothel earlier this evening, she’s even more pleased now she’s alone with him, naked and soaking in a warm bath together. 

Geralt’s eyes seem more golden in this lighting as she gets closer, and he brings his longs arms out to stretch them along the back of the bath, the muscles in his shoulders only bulging thicker, water evaporating from his skin before it has the chance to drip across the broad span of his biceps. 

Y/N reaches for a rag, wetting it in the hot water before bringing it to the witcher’s skin, dabbing at the dried blood staining it, careful to get every drop. A low hum vibrates through his throat and straight through Y/N’s core as he closes his eyes and takes a slow, deep breath, relaxing into her touch with ease. 

“Is it true what they say about you?” Y/N dares to ask, rewetting the cloth to bring it further across his shoulders, her fingers wrapping around his thick arm, digging into the impressive muscle as her thighs instinctively rub together under the guise created by the water. 

“What do they say?” he asks, his voice low and rumbling in his chest as he speaks, only serving to make Y/N even more desperate to feel him; taste him. 

“That your impressive stamina doesn’t end with fighting,” she smirks, watching as he slowly opens his eyes to look at her. 

He scoffs, staring directly into her eyes for a moment or two, and Y/N begins to wonder if she’s said the wrong thing and overstepped her line. But then a smirk grows wider on his lips. 

“Well I don’t plan on leaving here until sunrise,” he informs her matter-of-factly, before reaching for her wrist and pulling her closer, catching her before she can slip deeper into the water. 

He pulls her into his lap, her legs straddling his thick thighs, having to spread pretty far apart just to accommodate him, but she groans all the same, feeling his hands push into her hair, his large arms trapping her tight against his body. She can feel how hard he already is between her legs, trapped between her pelvic bone and his own. She reaches under the water, her hand seeking him out, her fingers wrapping around his length as she moans louder, realising they don’t even touch thanks to the girth. 

“You just keep on impressing me,” she quips, but Geralt only growls in response, tugging on her hair harder, pulling a whimper from her lips as she bucks her hips against him, her aching pussy dragging back and forth along his hard, muscular thigh. 

Another primal grunt escapes The Witcher as he lifts Y/N with ease, and when he drops her, it’s onto his cock as it sinks deep inside her, stretching her open with a burning pain she welcomes. Y/N moans, throwing her head back, her hair soaking in the hot water, her breasts pushing into his face as the stubble that adorns his chin scratches against her delicate skin. Geralt places chaste kisses to her chest, his teeth scraping over her hardened nipples, his fingertips digging into the flesh on her back as he instantly begins to fuck up into her. 

Y/N takes the brutality; welcomes it even. She’s never felt a pleasure like it, she’s never been fucked so thoroughly in such a short space of time before. Her orgasm is already building deep in her core, climbing higher and higher as her fingernails bite deeper and deeper into the witcher’s chest. 

“C’mon,” he encourages, pulling her down to send himself what feels like impossibly deeper, his cock throbbing inside her as she finally comes undone around him, her pussy clenching rhythmically as her orgasm ripples through every fibre of her body in a constant wave of ecstasy. “That’s it,” he hums, Y/N’s head flopping forward as she slowly begins her descent from the high of her climax back to the very bath they’re in. 

“Who needs stamina when you fuck like that?” she jokes, breathlessly. 

Geralt doesn’t reply, he just stands, lifting her in his arms with such ease that it only makes Y/N feel even more powerless. He’s still inside her, throbbing and filling her like she was made just for him. He carries her over to the bed, throwing her down onto it, and Y/N can’t help but stare up at him, even more in awe now she can see him in his impressive entirety. 

“I’ve already told you, I’m not leaving until sunrise,” he growls, grabbing her ankles to pull her closer to the end of the bed. “And I plan to get my money’s worth.” 

Liked this fic? Want to see more Geralt fics? Please consider leaving me feedback by replying or reblogging :) Feedback is fuel!

#until sunrise #geralt x reader #geralt smut #geralt of rivia #the witcher fanfic #smut #drabble #negans-lucille-tblr #lemon

[princessaxoxo]

｡ﾟﾟ･｡･ﾟﾟ｡ ﾟ。Masterlist 　ﾟ･｡🌷͙֒

𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘯 💌

𝘣𝘶𝘺 𝘮𝘦 𝘢 ˚₊‧꒰ა 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ✿ 𝘢𝘰3 ✿ 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘢𝘥 ✿ 𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘰𝘯

𝘙𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 - 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘥-𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘣𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘴𝘰𝘤����𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘴. 𝘪 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘰3, 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘱𝘢𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘭𝘳.

𝘔𝘺 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘨 𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 18+ 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺.

𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘪 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯, 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦 𝘕𝘚𝘍𝘞, 𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘳 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬. 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘶𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡⋆

𝓗𝓮𝓷𝓻𝔂 𝓒𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓵𝓵

𝓖𝓮𝓻𝓪𝓵𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝓡𝓲𝓿𝓲𝓪

𝓜𝓲𝓴𝓮

𝓒𝓵𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓚𝓮𝓷𝓽

𝓐𝓾𝓰𝓾𝓼𝓽 𝓦𝓪𝓵𝓴𝓮𝓻

𝓢𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓸𝓬𝓴 𝓗𝓸𝓵𝓶𝓮𝓼

𝓦𝓪𝓵𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓜𝓪𝓻𝓼𝓱𝓪𝓵𝓵

𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓻𝓵𝓮𝓼 𝓑𝓻𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓸𝓷

𝓒𝓪𝓹𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓢𝔂𝓿𝓮𝓻𝓼𝓸𝓷

𝓚𝓻𝓪𝓿𝓮𝓷/𝓢𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓰𝓲 𝓚𝓻𝓪𝓿𝓲𝓷𝓸𝓯𝓯

𝒻𝓁𝓊𝒻𝒻: ꕤ 𝓈𝓂𝓊𝓉: 🍒 𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓈𝓉: ❦

#henry cavill #masterlist #oneshot #short story #henry cavill fandom #drabbles #mini series #geralt of rivia #clark kent #sherlock holmes #mike hellraiser #geralt x reader #mike x reader #sherlock holmes x reader #clark kent x reader #henry cavill x reader #first post #walter marshall x you #henry cavill smut #fluff #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill sherlock holmes #august walker #night hunter #angst #smutty #clark kent x you #clark kent smut #charles brandon romance #charles brandon fanfiction

[witcher-and-henry-cavill-stuff]

𝔎𝔩𝔞𝔲𝔰 𝔐𝔦𝔨𝔞𝔢𝔩𝔰𝔬𝔫 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔈𝔵𝔭𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔐𝔦𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔩𝔢𝔰

𝔇𝔬𝔫'𝔱 𝔎𝔦𝔩𝔩!

𝔄 𝔉𝔞𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯'𝔰 𝔱𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔢𝔯 𝔠𝔞𝔯𝔢

𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢'𝔰 𝔏𝔞𝔰𝔱 𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔥

𝔈𝔫𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔡 𝔉𝔩𝔞𝔪𝔢𝔰

ℜ𝔢𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔭𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫'𝔰 𝔈𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢

𝔈𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔫𝔞𝔩 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡

𝔄 𝔏𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔩𝔢 𝔉𝔲𝔫 ℑ𝔫 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔑𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱

𝙷𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚢 𝙲𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚡 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𝙰 𝙱𝚘𝚡𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚘𝚗

𝙰 𝙵𝚊𝚝𝚑𝚎𝚛'𝚜 𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚎𝚛 𝙳𝚒𝚕𝚎𝚖𝚖𝚊

𝙰 𝙿𝚕𝚊𝚢𝚏𝚞𝚕 𝚎𝚡𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚎

𝚂𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚍𝚒𝚜𝚎

𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝚌𝚛𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜

𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝙿𝚛𝚘𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚎

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎'𝚜 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚊𝚌𝚢

𝙰 𝙳𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝙵𝚞𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙰𝚍𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎

𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝙰𝚌𝚛𝚘𝚜𝚜 𝚋𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚎𝚛𝚜

𝙴𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚍 𝙷𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝𝚜

𝔊𝔢𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔱 𝔒𝔣 ℜ𝔦𝔳𝔦𝔞 𝔵 ℜ𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔉𝔯𝔞𝔤𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔰 𝔒𝔣 𝔞 𝔅𝔯𝔬𝔨𝔢𝔫 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

𝔄 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔯'𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

𝔘𝔫𝔣𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔢𝔢𝔫 𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰

𝔅𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔰 𝔬𝔣 𝔇𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔶

𝔖𝔥𝔞𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡 𝔙𝔬𝔴𝔰

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔊𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔞𝔫𝔰 𝔈𝔪𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔠𝔢

𝔄𝔴𝔞𝔨𝔦𝔫𝔤 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔰

𝔇𝔞𝔢𝔪𝔬𝔫 𝔗𝔞𝔯𝔤𝔞𝔯𝔶𝔢𝔫 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔉𝔦𝔯𝔢 𝔄𝔫𝔡 𝔚𝔦𝔱𝔥 𝔅𝔩𝔬𝔬𝔡

𝔅𝔯𝔢𝔢𝔡 𝔶𝔬𝔲

𝔈𝔫𝔳𝔦𝔬𝔲𝔰 ℌ𝔢𝔞𝔯𝔱

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔚𝔢𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱 𝔒𝔣 ℜ𝔢𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔱

𝑲𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒎 𝑨𝒍 𝑨𝒔𝒊𝒎 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

𝑴𝒄'𝒔 𝒍𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒆𝒓

Masterlist Part 2

#henry cavill x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #imagine #Materlist #x reader #klaus mikaelson #Witcher #one shot #klaus mikaelson x reader #TVD #fanfiction #Masterlist #female reader #drabble #fluff #daemon targaryen #house of the dragon #HOTD #Smuts

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Common Knowledge 1

Warnings: non/dubcon, power imbalance, bullying, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

Characters: Geralt of Rivia, Harald Halfdansson, tall & plus-size reader

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

You unfurl the strip of legal pad, marked with Professor Halfdansson's messy and pointed writing. The usual scribble that has you squinting at your returned papers. He must be the only instructor in the college that still handmarks his assignment.

Like much of his style, his slanted cursive is chaotic. Often, his lectures or spiraling tangents about his trips to Norway or some mythos unrelated to the topic at hand. He is a well of knowledge, but one which is often overflowing and bottomless.

The subject is far from your first choice. You prefer history with a human subject. Your intrigue is those events which truly occurred, people who once walked the same earth as yourself. Mythos and belief is a human creation but it hardly captures your imagination.

Along your search for title jotted onto the scrap, you find several other books to sate your personal preferences. A book on the Beothuk and their demise and another illustrated index of Renaissance art. Finally, you find the rear corner of the store, the mythology shelves nestled behind Spirituality and New Age.

You hover your finger before the rows and lean in, squinting through your lenses as you search out the rather Nordic-sounding name. You sense a shadow at the end of the aisle but do not look over. You'll just be on your way once you-- there it is.

You pinch the spine of the deep blue tome and slide it out. The cover is stamped with gold runes and lettering, a viking helm the central image. You double-check that it matches the professor's scrawl, however you can never be sure as his Fs look like Ss.

You set it flat on your armful of book, balancing the weight with the rest as you crumple the scrap and tuck it into your pocket. It's a bit more than you want to spend but it will be useful in maintaining your average through Halfdansson's course.

The shadow comes closer and you shift out of the way for the approaching customer. You sidle away as they huff, a breath that fans around them. He leans into the shelf and you sense his head shift and his gaze follow your slow retreat.

"Ah, you are a fan of vikings?" He asks, stopping you in your tracks. "You must've watched the show, hm? Cute series but not very accurate, you know?"

You blink, taken aback but his tone and his assumption. It isn't the first time you've met the attitude in your chosen discipline. When it comes to military history or the lives of vaunted men, there is often an intonation towards female scholars. You have been dismissed more than once.

"Never seen it," you lie, "you seem the type though."

You note his snow white hair, a peculiar shade, drawn back into a half pony, and his blindingly pale eyes. He wears a tunic better housed in the closet of a LARPing club and looms with an air of indignation. He puts a thick hand on the shelf and leans, no doubt used to towering over others.

"Funny, that is the very book I came for," he intones.

"Oh, what a coincidence."

HIs jaw ticks and he snorts, "seems you've found quite the lot--"

"I have. A whole trove."

You go to turn away and hear his sole clomp down behind you, "surely you can grab another encyclopedia. I really need that one."

"Uh, no, this is what I need."

He follows you down the aisle as you keep a quick step, uneasy at how he trails you so fervently.

"Maybe you should grab another one."

"I have all the others. I've been waiting months for that to come into stock," he insists.

"Well, you can find a kiosk and order one in--"

"On a three month backorder," he interjects and grabs your arm. "I'll pay you--"

You spin back to face him and hit his chest with your books, "don't touch me."

"Well, just..." he retracts his hand, "hold up. I'm trying to talk to you. To barter--"

"I'm sorry, but I need this book for class," you hug the books and back up, overly aware of the tingliness from where he grabbed you. You don't like being touched. At all. You can feel your heart pumping.

"Does the school not have a library, little girl?"

Your mouth falls open. Little girl? This guy just can't help himself. You haven't been rude, maybe matter-of-fact, but he's been downright mean.

"Not for sale," you push your shoulders up and back away.

You twist on your heel and speed away. You weave between the shelves and discount tables and join the winding queue at the counter. You don't look back and sway in your boots, waiting your turn.

"I could give you several recommendations for an alternate text," the man appears at your side, crowding you inside the black cords that rein in the queuing customers.

You ignore him and turn your head away. You wish he'd just take a hint. If you heard a single please or any sort of respect, you might consider it. He's only been a jackass and judging at first glance, he's too old for that.

"You don't need it–"

You move with the line and he growls, shifting with you.

"Look, girl–"

You snap your head back and give him a glare. He sucks in one cheek and exhales heavily, "miss, I am asking you nicely–"

The associate at the counter calls for next and you take your cue. You quickly cross the space and put your haul onto the wooden ledge. You hear the pushy stranger snarl something under his breath. You refuse to look back as you hand over your membership card.

Men like that are the very reason you despise the general public. Hard to fathom how you can be so intrigued by the human condition when you can hardly bear to be around other people.

#geralt of rivia #geralt #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt x reader #harald halfdansson #harald x reader #dark harald #dark!harald #harald finehair #vikings #the witcher #bookstore au #au #series #drabble

[13atoms]

Heart Moon (Geralt x Reader)

A little Valentine’s day drabble! There’s a heart moon above our sleeping heroes, and the beginning of a love story growing between them. | 1.2k | Fluff/Romance

   💐♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐 ♥ 💐

You groaned, rolled your shoulders, and curled up against the cold forest floor. Across from you, Geralt was soundly asleep, the proud line of his nose catching the moon light, the harsh line of his jaw softened by his slumped neck.

Roach was somewhere behind you, mooching around in the undergrowth, not far from her tether. Jaskier was curled up on furs, sleeping in a bundle with his lute strung up on a tree, safe from mud and danger.

Night watch was no fun, but it gave you a moment alone. And that was rare, especially since Jaskier had rejoined your party a few weeks ago. You liked having him there. The noise, the joviality, his complaining just as your feet began to ache. You liked him, his spirit and his company, a fellow human beside Geralt’s superhuman stamina and senses.

The Witcher had never made you feel like a burden, but beside him it was hard to feel like you were pulling your weight.

The bard’s presence had brought something else into focus. That your relationship with him was different, to the one you shared with Geralt.

You had long suspected it, that there was something unusual in the way you curled around him when the night was cold, or the way he never finished eating until you were full. He never finished the water skeins until your thirst was quenched. Never let you carry your own bags until he was at capacity.

He didn’t do that for Jaskier. You didn’t want to hold Jaskier like you wanted to hold Geralt.

And late into the night, you’d stay awake into Geralt’s night watch shifts, just for the chance to talk to him alone again.

You liked Jaskier, loved him, as a friend and a confidant.

You’d never longed for his company as you longed for Geralt’s.

It was a red moon, rising strong and high above the continent, leaving a strange glow on everything.

Geralt’s pale skin was tinted with it, the water nearby reflecting it, the light dissipating to pink as it painted all that was below.

There were rumours, about pink moons. Old wives’ tales, stories for children. For romantics.

You wondered how many Geralt had seen, in his long life. This was only your second – you had seen one as a child, and laughed at the celebrations which took place in your village.

It was a night for mischief and flowers and kindness. Gifting and smiling and loving.

You watched how the light caught Geralt, his pale hair fanned out against his sleep mat and face pressed to a fur. Perhaps, a few dozen miles away, the nearest village would be celebrating as yours had. Maybe it was celebrated no where else on the continent. It was so rare, you had never thought to ask.

A pang of heartache for your home threatened to overwhelm you, tightening your throat and forcing your gaze from Geralt like he might feel the intensity of it.

Without much further thought, you arose, beginning the hunt for flowers.

The season was just beginning, but hardy early species survived. Snow-white droplets of petals and tiny pale blue flowers, blood-reds and buttery-yellows cut by your knife and gathered in your hands until you realised you’d wandered too far. Trying not to make too much noise, and not truly worried, you rushed back, the crook of your arm full of delicate blooms.

As you returned the moon was directly overhead, Geralt fidgeting in his sleep at the sound of your return. His golden eyes batted open, scanning the campsite until they settled on you.

“Sorry,” you whispered, descending back onto your sleep mat, flowers in your grip.

“Not to worry. We must be due to swap soon,” he murmured, voice low for fear of waking Jaskier, and gruff with sleep.

He rolled onto his side, perched up on an elbow. You were always amazed at how quickly he recovered from being awoken. He missed nothing, eyes flickering  to the flowers in your lap.

You were making quick work of stripping the stems of leaves, knife slipping easily down the delicate stems.

The Witcher watched your hands for a few moments, before rolling onto his back.

“Heart moon,” he murmured, and you swore you saw a smirk on his lips, the flash of his pointed canines.

Both of you stared up at it through the clearing in the canopy of the trees, knife resting still in your lap.

Geralt took his time as he sat up, finding a place against his bags to lean, before gesturing for the flowers in your lap.

“Collect your own,” you teased, a laugh on your tongue at his dejection.

“I’m warm here. Give me half.”

You faked a bit of grumbling, but acquiesced, and soon Geralt had his own pocket knife out, stripping the stems with the ease he stripped flesh from bone.

You returned to your task, taking quick glances up to see the concentration on the Witcher’s face.

“I hope these weren’t for Jaskier,” he grumbled, no malice in his voice.

You smiled to yourself, focussed on removing the roots from a bunch of conical purple flowers.

“Just felt like it. It’s tradition, under a heart moon.”

The Witcher hummed in agreement.

“Tradition to be given flowers, I believe. Who were you giving them to?”

“Both of you. Myself. Roach.”

When you looked up, Geralt raised an eyebrow. You didn’t talk about home much, but now felt right. A quiet moment, just the two of you.

“We always gave flowers on a blood moon. To children, parents, friends, siblings, neighbours…”

“It was always lovers, I thought.”

You fixed him with a look, stilling the blade in your hands once again.

“Sometimes lovers,” you confirmed.

“It must vary, across the continent.”

“Must do,” you conceded.

You’d started to fashion little bouquets, your own flower pile split in two, smiling to yourself as you found twine to wrap them into neat forms. Geralt watched with unveiled interest.

With a groan at the movement, you uncrossed your legs and stood, placing one bundle by Jaskier’s sleeping form. The other you nestled into Geralt’s travel pack. Sitting back down, you noticed Geralt’s movements had stopped. His eyes glanced between the bundles, then back to his lap. Finally, to you. You stifled a yawn, looking back to the bright red moon where it sat between trees and the stars.

“You should get some rest,” he murmured, voice quiet, hands unmoving by his flowers.

For a few moments, you took one last look at the moon. You might see another in your lifetime, but it wouldn’t be like this. Not with your closest friends, one of them a Witcher who you hoped might see you as even more precious than that.

You took in the image of Geralt, lap covered in flowers and golden eyes fixed on you.

Finally, you laid down, curling beneath blankets and on your side facing the Witcher.

“Goodnight, Geralt.”

“Goonight,” he murmured.

You laid still, eyes closed, listening to the sound of him slicing at leaves, imagining him bathed in that pink moonlight.

As you were drifting between wakefulness and sleep you heard him stand, moving away, no doubt not wandering far. You let sleep take you.

When you awoke it was to the early morning light, the heart moon vanished, the Witcher nearby. Golden eyes flickering away from yours as they opened, and you found yourself half-way buried in flowers.

#this is daft and cute and unbeta'd #the witcher #the witcher x reader #the witcher x you #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #13atoms #valentine's drabble

[darklydeliciousdesires]

20. “Please, remind me again why we’re having sex against a tree?” This one is giving Geralt vibes, I'm intrigued 🤭 x

Intrigued seems to be the word du jour in describing this particular prompt, bestie, hahaha! Here you are!

Smut below the cut, minors DNI!

The lush greens of the late spring canopy occupy every last space within the forest, so thick and blooming that only the occasional beam of light from the bright sun shines through the entanglement of branches above.

The particular tree you are pushed against scattering blossoms upon you, shaken by the gentle breeze, while you are shaken by your lover, your dress and underskirts rucked up around your waist, Geralt behind you, his full cock sliding back and forth into the satin clutch of your cunt.

“Please, remind me again why we’re having sex against a tree?” you pant softly, a particularly deep thrust forcing a groan from you, the noise sending shivers through him.

"Because you complain that I never take you anywhere beautiful, love. So now here I am, literally taking you somewhere beautiful." Your face is a picture of incredulity as you turn to him, Geralt amused by your reaction to his statement. "Stop looking at me in that tone of voice."

You chuckle, gasping as he spears into you faster. "Oh, you assume yourself to be so very clever," you tease, Geralt grunting a 'hm', his lips meeting your neck in a fever of kisses.

"I assume myself to be a much greater fuck."

Well, he isn't wrong there.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia smut #geralt of rivia fanfiction #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt of rivia x female reader #geralt of rivia x you #henry cavill #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you #ddd drabble requests

[islenthatur]

The other witchers didn't know how to think of the colourful human that Geralt had brought back to the Keep with his child surprise. He was not what they had expected, truly, they didn't know what to expect at all considering they didn't know he was coming but if they did it wasn't this.

"Geralt for the love of Melitele..." The man sighed exasperated as he bullied a potioned dosed Geralt into a chair by the fire. Nimble fingers removing armour with ease, face and emotions uncaring of the bottomless eyes staring back.

"Hm." It was a grunted with a sigh.

Jaskier sighed. "I worry for a reason, looks like a claw got under the armour, it'll take me but a moment to stitch..."

"Hmm." Geralt hummed again, slightly drawn out.

The witchers watched with wide eyes as the Bard paused slightly with a scowl. "Yes, I know it's unnecessary, but I'm still going to stitch it."

"...hm."

"So help me Geralt of Rivia..." Jaskier threatened slow and low, his blue eyes flashing as he presses the damp cloth carefully around the wound. "Don't you take that tone with me. I worry, doesn't matter of you're a witcher."

Lambert had enough. "How the fuck can you understand Geralt?"

Jaskier paused and cocked his head to the side with a furrowed brow. "Twenty years of travelling, it's easy enough know when you have that experience by ones side..."

#the witcher #the witcher fanfiction #geralt of rivia #jaskier #jaskier/geralt #jaskier dandelion #geraskier #the witcher fandom #writing drabble mood

[velvetcloxds]

in love with you- send me a character and an au scenario and I'll write a little baby blurb for it

Can I please ask for a Tangled!AU for Geralt of Rivia + Princess!Reader, please? Thank you!

RUFFIENS | GERALT OF RIVIA

word count: 0.8k words

warnings: reader having very long hair, geralt being a grumpy little simp

Geralt knew the feeling of frustration well, an annoyance to the point of murder, that nagging tug to his brain that had his fist shaking around his glass and his eyes burning- this time, however, the feeling was different, clouded, as annoyed as he was, he was also sort of awed, vividly aware of the fact that he didn't look away from you for even a second as you walked about the drunken witchers with a smile bright enough to light up all of Kaer Morhen despite the darkness that loomed its halls. You were hardly the threatening kind, in fact, he was sure he could quite easily force the information you promised right out of you without much, if any hassle, but when he saw you or rather saved you from the tower your mother had kept you in, he caved into taking you to see the floating lights you'd very adamantly demanded to see.

He questioned your reasoning when you so senselessly considered him a trustworthy traveling companion, it spoke of ignorance and naivety, evidence of being robbed from the company of other humans or living beings for that matter since he was yet to determine what or who you really were aside for a princess. He brought you to his winter home purely for shock value, needing to pass the stony confines on the way to your destination anyway, so he considered it only fitting to tease you some in the process- he'd not, for even a second, considered that you'd be just as sickeningly sweet in a room full of murderers as you were with just the one, him, of course.

You were currently sat atop one of the bulky wooden tables, fawning over Lambert's curls as he offered you a sip of his drink, he looked up at you much like he would an innocent deer running across his path- conflicted between finding you unmentionable adorable and just a bit too foolish and weak to be around him. He allowed you to drag a hand through his curls, musing about the ways you could braid it for him so it bothered him less, giving him advice about keeping it healthy while gesturing to your own hair that spread down the table onto the floor, comically well-kept despite what might be assumed.

"Las, I shall humour your remedies for keeping the curls at bay, but you're not bringing any leaves near me," he reprimanded and you giggled as you sat back, feet peeking out from the hem of your dress as you folded your legs under you, not at all looking like the princess the witchers were accustomed to, admittedly much more satisfying to be around, to listen to and to talk to- you'd managed to charm a group of men who hated your kind with all their hearts.

Geralt was walking towards you before he even knew it, reaching out to support your back when you leaned back just a tad too far while laughing at Lambert's opinions on the different flowers he'd seen on his hunts, listing all the very many reasons why he despised them. A few hours ago the touch of the fingers spread out over the thinning material would've felt foreign, unknown, but despite how uncharted Geralt's presence was to your existence, his touch was quickly becoming familiar, comfortable regardless of how uncaring it was.

"Careful," he grunted though the sound wasn't nearly as annoyed as he wished it to be, earning a shy smile from your lips as you moved your hair out of place to turn around towards him, looking up at him with those big eyes that were daring to break through his cold exterior. "Wouldn't want you to fall and get injured, might not make it to the stars."

"Floating lights," you reminded, he was almost regretting his mistake when your smile threatened to dip into a frown, shaking his system with nerves for being the reason for it. However, luckily the notion was interrupted by a giant yawn, the motion of you slipping from the table to stand next to him being far too smooth. "And I don't think you'd mind it all that much if you didn't have to take me to see them."

"What makes you think that?" he mused and you swore his eyes were lighter as he spoke, a sense of playfulness behind the golden orbs, but you didn't think of it too much, scared to get your hopes up, instead, you gathered your hair into a big ball in your hands, smiling at the white wolf when he helped you do so.

"Just a suspicion that I have," you shrugged in return and tucked the last few inches of roots under your arm, dreading the process of having to braid the main in the morning, not used to having to do so alone- but before you could make your way to the room Geralt had pointed out as yours, you looked back up at him with a sincere smile, one he noted to be very different from the thousand other smiles you were capable of. "Thank you, Geralt," you breathed and he was notably surprised, a foreign feeling for him, you supposed because he didn't recover from the slip of emotion as quickly as you expected. "I know you're only doing this to get something out of me, but I appreciate it still, so thank you," you leaned up to kiss his cheek, a brisk gesture, hardly long enough for him to react before you were tiredly skipping away from him.

"You need to be careful with that one," Lambert noted, a perfect position to have viewed the whole scene as he looked at his friend with a knowing nod. "A girl like that won't be easy to let go of," he explained and Geralt was frozen, dazed as he looked at the arch you just walked through, frazzled and confused as the feeling of your lips still tingled against his white skin.

"Get rid of," he corrected but he wasn't convinced and neither was Lambert because right before his eyes the witcher in question stood lingering, no doubt listening to your steps, determining if you made it safely to your room, a fool really for thinking you hadn't already thread your way into his heart.

#geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x yn #geralt of rivia fluff #geralt of rivia blurb #geralt of rivia drabble #geralt of rivia one shot #geralt of rivia fanfiction #monique's writing events #right where queue left me #tangled au #tangled!reader #princess!reader

[cas-kingdom]

I think I’ll also add Geralt and “Poke me again and see what happens.”

Find the OC version of this fic here.

“Poke me again and see what happens,” Geralt spoke monotonously as he glanced over his shoulder. It was only after you felt his eyes on you that you realised he was talking to you. Which was shocking only because you hadn’t a clue what he was talking about. Before you could ask, he returned to his meal.

Your confused stare lingered on him a little longer, your tired mind attempting to catch up to his words, but you gave up after a moment or so. You’d been trying to sleep, curled up behind Geralt with a blanket and a pillow in the hall of Kaer Morhen. Though the witchers had all returned for the winter and were busy drinking and exchanging stories, you welcomed the clamour more than you found it difficult to rest with. It was a reminder, after all, that your family had remained in one piece for another year.

“Stop it, Y/N.”

Now that you were sure Geralt was addressing you, you turned on your side and propped yourself up with an elbow. “I’m not doing anything,” you insisted truthfully. “I’m just trying to sleep.”

Geralt glanced over his shoulder again and hummed, most likely in disagreement. You rolled your eyes and turned your back on him once more. You were growing more restless by the minute, increasing each time Geralt told you to stop doing something you weren’t doing.

Staring ahead, your eyes caught Lambert’s, the redhead grinning from ear to ear in a very conspicuous way. He was supposedly having a conversation with Eskel and Coen, but Eskel and Coen seemed to be the only ones actually conversing. Knowing he was far too chipper to not be up to something, you narrowed your eyes at him, watching as he picked up a small stone from the ground, tossed it once in the air, took aim, and sent it sailing towards Geralt. It hit his shoulder and he tensed.

This time, you shot up in your makeshift bed, sending a look of utter hatred, eyes wide, brows furrowed, mouth open, to Lambert, who merely crossed his arms behind his head and settled back against his chair.

“You dick!” you hissed, just as Geralt turned to face you. You shook your head at him. “It was Lambert, Geralt.”

“Poke him again, Y/N! I wanna see what happens!” Lambert called. If looks could kill, the witcher need not worry about dying by a monster’s hand. You got to your feet, snatching up your pillow as you went, and stormed towards Lambert.

Lambert chuckled, clapping Eskel on the back. “Watch this,” he said. He remained still as you made quick work of rushing over to him, pillow raised high above your head. As soon as you neared him enough to attempt a solid hit, Lambert jolted upright, grabbed you, and pulled you onto his lap, tickling your sides so suddenly your arms jerked...

And hit Eskel instead.

Witcher Masterpost

send me the first sentence of a fanfic and i’ll write the next five, except i don’t know when to stop writing so i guarantee there’ll be more than five

#the witcher #geralt #geralt of rivia #vesemir #lambert #eskel #coen #reader #reader fic #teen reader #teen!reader #geralt x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #vesemir x reader #eskel x reader #lambert x reader #coen x reader #mine #baby fic #drabble #daughter reader #daughter!reader

[jaskierskisses]

Written for the @ficwip drabbles prompt

Fandom: The Witcher

Ship: Jaskier/Geralt

Title: Jealousy

Prompt: You call this a sword?

Jaskier was missed again. They had arrived two days ago to a village full of life and places to explore, but losing Jaskier for the third time was enough of a record.

“You call that a sword?” Geralt heard Jaskier’s voice coming from inside of a rainbow colored tent. The Witcher stopped and pressed his ear against it. “It's not that big!” the bard exclaimed and Geralt slammed the door open and glared at Jaskier. But his mood of serial killer vanished at the sight of a sword shop and the old seller.

“Great! Now my surprise gift is ruined!” Jaskier said as he crossed his arms dramatically.

#ficwip #drabble prompt #geraskier #geraskier fic #geralt de rivia #jaskier pankratz #geralt x jaskier #my writing

[negans-lucille-tblr]

Just finished my first Geralt drabble

And I took inspo from this gif...

#coming soon #geralt x reader #geralt smut #geralt of rivia #drabble #pwp #watch this space #bee writes #negans-lucille-tblr

[dapandapod]

It’s strange to see Jaskier like this. Not just dressed in fine clothes, but dressed as a royalty. It punches the breath out of Geralt’s lungs, firmly draws the line between him and Jaskier, once and for all. Because Geralt is but a witcher, and Jaskier is now a prince. What they shared in the past matters no longer. That kiss in the rain that lit him up like a beacon inside, it will remain a memory, a dream.

But Jaskier approaches him, takes his hand, brings his knuckles up to his lips.

“What a scandal we’ll be, Witcher Mine.”

(written for @thepassifloradiscord drabble challenge)

#geraskier #royalty au #the witcher #geralt of rivia #jaskier #prince!jaskier #geralt x jaskier #dapanda writes #drabble challenge #julian alfred pankratz #the bard of many names