#let jaskier have one thing please geralt

[shy-urban-hobbit]

“I mean, you’ve got to feel a little sorry for them really haven’t you?” Jaskier said from where he was mopping up the last of the evidence of the half dead rat Roach had thoughtfully decided to gift them (the first time it happened he’d shrieked in surprise before Geralt put it out of its misery with a matter of fact “Welcome to country living, city boy”). Geralt gave a non committal hum from where he was warming milk up for Ciri on the stove. The little girl sat colouring at the large kitchen table - too large for two, but that would change when Geralt’s brothers and any guests they decided to bring descended on them.

“I mean they’re just minding their own business like, Oh I’m a hungry rat. Please don’t kill me.” Here Jaskier put on a slightly squeaky voice and held up his hands in imitation of paws, still holding onto the mop, “And then wham one of the last things they see is Roach’s teeth coming towards them. So many teeth.” He gave the resident farm cat a critical stare and received a dismissive tail flick in response.

Ciri giggled at his antics which caused him to grin back at her in return. It always felt like a special sort of personal victory when he managed to coax a laugh out of the little girl.

Despite being together for six months, he was still being introduced to her as her father’s ‘friend’ (which was true enough, they wouldn’t be dating if they didn’t get along) and Jaskier was happy to go along with it. Geralt had explained without revealing too much that the little one had been let down by too many adults in her life already, himself included, and ‘boyfriend’ was maybe just a little too official sounding for the time being (and if he said his heart hadn’t broken a little for the five year old smiling at him from Geralt’s phone, he’d by lying), especially after the shit that had gone down with his ex. Geralt hadn’t gone into detail but from what Jaskier had gathered, the woman had had a hidden agenda in wanting to get back with Geralt and Ciri had almost gotten seriously hurt as a result. Geralt had blamed himself for jumping back into the relationship too quickly and so, any potential partners now had to pass what Jaskier had dubbed ‘The Ciri test’.  

He liked to think he’d passed the first portion with flying colours, the tiny blonde seeming perfectly comfortable with him in public places. Now they were dipping their toes into Jaskier staying in their home for longer periods, with Jaskier having graduated from the guest bedroom to sharing with Geralt the previous visit (the brunette wanting the ground to swallow him up when she happily informed her Uncle Eskel of ‘Daddy’s sleepover’ when the man had dropped by unexpectedly the following morning. Geralt had just shrugged and told him to be thankful it hadn’t been Lambert; who could and would, happily take the piss forever).

“Alright Ciri, put your things away and then go get your bedtime book. I’ll be in in a minute.” Geralt said, pouring the warm milk into a plastic My Little Pony cup.

“I want Jask.” Ciri declared form where she was trying to force the crayons back into their box by the (relatively small) handful, Causing both adults to stop what they’d been doing and stare at one another. This was new.

“You sure you don’t want daddy?” Jaskier asked, looking to Geralt for some sign as to what he should do.

“You do better funny voices. Daddy’s all sound the same.”

It took everything Jaskier had not to burst out laughing at that as he took in the minute eye twitch from the other man at that statement, “Geralt?”

Geralt nodded, “Mind if I stay and listen? You know how much I love The Gruffalo.”

Jaskier snorted and felt a surge of fondness. The lies we tell for our children.

It ended up being a joint effort, with Geralt guest starring as The Gruffalo “On account of you being so, well...gruff.” and admitting to a slightly too smug looking Jaskier and a mostly asleep Ciri that “Yes, Jaskier does better voices for everyone else. Especially Mouse.”

"Everything ok? You’ve gone all quiet on me.” Jaskier said from where he had his head in Geralt’s lap as they watched some mindless Netflix show. “I didn’t overstep did I?” He was suddenly frantic, his anxieties bubbling back up to the surface now that he didn’t have a performance and an audience to focus on, “I know you probably just said yes so things wouldn’t be awkward. I probably should have told her no and come up with an excuse but how can anybody say no to that face-“

“Jaskier. It’s fine, honestly.” Geralt said, rubbing his hands up and down Jaskier’s arm in a way he knew calmed him, “I’ve built up something of an immunity to Ciri’s puppy eyes. I would’ve said no if I had a problem with it. I’m just thinking.”

“About?”

“About how I might have a question for Ciri.”

The next morning saw Jaskier seeing both of them off with a hug (also accompanied by fishing a stray cheerio out of Ciri’s hair which he had been too tired to question) before heading back to his city apartment and his job as a music tutor.

“Ciri?” Geralt asked, putting her school backpack by the door as he knelt down to help her button up her coat, “You know how Aiden is Uncle Lambert’s boyfriend?"

It had slowly been killing Jaskier not to check his phone as soon as the text notification came through but he was nothing if not professional and he would not check his phone when he was in the middle of a lesson. Thank the Gods he did wait as he was prettu sure he gave his retreating student a minor heart attack with the squeal he let out at Geralt’s message:

‘Ciri has been proudly announcing to her classmates this morning that Jaskier is her daddy’s boyfriend. Much disappointment from the single mums.’

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

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

witchers x maleficent!/fae!reader

summary: how witcher characters would react to someone having maleficent type horns/wings and magic

notes: got this out just in time for the new season phew

warnings: gn!reader, lambert the middle schooler, jaskier's composing

tagged: @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper @lu-in-the-library @sunndust (msg me to be added!)

based on this request | masterlist | requests are OPEN!

Geralt

He’s mostly just praying that fate isn’t throwing another curveball at him

Sureeee he’ll spend time with you!! (his fingers are crossed and he’s praying let them be normal let them be normal

Will end up totally accepting you, but he doesn’t love the attention that comes from being a witcher in the company of a fae

He secretly adores your wings

Jaskier

Immediately in song-writing mood

Will make up things about your life to fabricate contents for his ballads

Won’t treat you very different from his other ~weird~ friends

Loves loves loves the attention that comes with it (read: basks in it like the sun)

Yennefer

Yen is fascinated

The academic in her wants to tell her colleagues

And the girl who was all alone and abandoned in her absolutely adores you

You’d do good to make sure that she’s on your side, or she might sell you out

Definitely wants a piece of your magic either way

Ciri

Poor ciri

Eugh she just wants some friends

That don’t die…

She loves your horns and wings

Definitely adores you for also being *different* and having your own magic thing going on

Eskel

He adores your wings

If there is a wing care routing, please let this man do it

Otherwise, he might invent a conditioner-potion for your wings

Don’t scare him in the beginning though, or you may get stabbed

Lambert

Has the reaction of a seventh-grader

Might literally go woahhhhhh

Big hater, but not against you

Will protect you, but will also ask you if you can carry stuff with your horns constantly

Yeah becoming a christmas tree-esque creature may be a con

Coen

Coen honestly just enjoys a helping hand

Your magic will in fact be contributing to his work

Tbf he also makes sure you don’t get killed by angry farmers

The whole thing starts off as a symbiotic relationship but will turn into a friendship (if not more hehe)

Vesemir

Bro does not trust you

Thots and prayers girldude

Oh you have horns and wings? LIKE A MONSTER??

Unless one of his witchers (read:children) introduces you to him, he may attempt murder

#the witcher #the witcher series #geralt x reader #eskel x reader #geralt #eskel #vesemir #lambert #lambert x reader #ciri #cirilla of cintra #yennefer x reader #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt x you #geralt of rivia #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x you #the witcher imagine #the witcher fic #the witcher netflix

[renren-006]

Heyo! How are you? I was wondering if I could put in a request for a Geralt x fem reader one shot?

Reader is injured in some sort of way but tries to hide it from Geralt coz she doesn’t want to worry him but he obviously finds out?

I’m bad at descriptions😪

Please and thank you xx

Wounds and Kisses | Geralt x fem Reader

a/n: hello! thank you for the request and i hope you like it!

fluff and angst

word count: 966

You tagged Geralt along on another one of his quests. You had before, and Jaskier seemed to think it was an excellent idea to have another person join them. So it was you and Geralt on Roach and Jaskier on his own horse, Fawn, playing tunes on his instruments. You were not a Witcher, but you did have basic abilities passed down from your mother, who was a half-elf and half-sorcerer, making you a mixed-blooded woman. Your abilities revolved around the elements, like your mother and her mother before her. You were trained by her before she died and before you had met Geralt.

He was adamant about letting you on quests; he wouldn't tell you why, but you knew the brooding man had some form of feeling towards you. The two of you never discussed it, but there was always something between them. You had slept together, kissed in halls, and spent the nights together, but no relationship was formed, and no words of love were ever spoken. You wished he would; you wished he would just tell you he loved you so you may finally not have to steal glances at the man without him knowing. 

The beast was something of a bigger size than either you or Geralt had previously thought it would be. Jaskier was back at the tavern drinking away and singing about adventures, while the two of you were stuck dealing with a beast that continuously terrorized this poor town. You didn't expect it to also be so difficult to defeat but its hard armor made things worse. It also made things worse when the beast tail slammed into you sending you flying to the ground. Geralt was too busy with a second beast that charged that he had no idea you had been flung by the beast. You stumbled back over to the fight, trying not to clutch your side. Your powers roared in you as you launched yourself on top of the beast, shoving your sword in any place between the armor before finding its weak spot. You shoved your sword deep into the spot by its neck in between the brakes in its armor, it wailed loudly before it fell. You stumbled off the beast intime to see Geralt doing the same with the second beast. Once you stumbled out of the muddy water onto land your side erupted in pain, you bit back a cry as you got onto Jeskier horse, Fawn, and rode back alongside Geralt who was far ahead of you and determined to finish the job fully and get home. You didn't dare touch your side or grimace about it, not wanting the boys to know you got hurt. 

You sat by Jaskier who held his nose by the stink of the beast coming off you. 

“Damn Y/N you stink” he said “Oh and Geralt smells worse…both of you go take a bath!”

“Were fine Jaskier” Geralt said, not wanting to jump to the bath and instead started drinking whatever it was he bought.

“Ill go” you said. As you stood a flash of pain crossed your face, making Geralt straighten. You stumbled your way to the room finding that someone had already filled the bin with hot bath water. As you undressed you didn't hear the door open or the heavy footsteps of Geralt entering. 

“Y/N” he said, standing still at the sight of the entirely too large gash and hole in your side. The beast tail had been spiked and its tail punctured your side while also slashing the entire length of your stomach. The blood and ooze that gushed from you seemed like it didn't matter under the eyesight of Geralt who stumbled over to you. “Why didn't you say anything?” he asked you. His voice was…soft. 

“I didn't want to worry you” you told him. You clutched the bin, your vision blurring as Geralt caught you, finished undressing you and got you into the hot water. You screamed a bit from the feeling of the hot water in your wound. Geralt held you, sliding in after undressing himself and holding you close to him.

“I want you to tell me when you're hurt. It means nothing against your skills when you are” he told you, making you feel worse about not mentioning it.

“I'm sorry,” you told him. 

“No apologies. Just heal” he told you, knowing that with concentration and his strength behind you, using the water and your magic can help heal the deep wound on you. The water swirled slightly as you used the magic in you to heal what you could. The deep gash slowly faded to a large gash, and the scratches along your stomach turned to scabs and then to scars. Your body had enough scars that you hated the sight of them but your magic only worked so far.

“I'm sure Yennefer would be happy to show you how to heal scars” He told you, pulling you even closer to him. “I know we never talked about what is between us…”

“I love you” you spoke faster than he could finish his thought. 

“I love you too y/n…if you had let me finish” he said, causing you to laugh. 

“Sorry, just wanted to say it before I couldn't” you told him looking at his face. 

“I should have told you sooner. I took advantage of your feelings before mine came around..”

“I know, but i never told you to stop” you said, “I just wanted all your love not just parts”

“Now you have it all” he told you, “so no more hiding your wounds” 

“Promise,” you said, kissing his cheek before falling back and laying on him.

#witcher geralt #geralt x reader #geralt x you #geralt of rivia #henry cavill

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

for the kiss prompts - a playful kiss to make the other stop rambling + geraskier, pretty please 🥺

Jaskier has never been one to suffer stage fright. Since the first time he gave an impromptu performance at one of his parents’ banquets at the age of seven, he’s soaked up the spotlight at any chance he can get. There’s nothing he delights in more than having a crowded tavern or ballroom watching him with starry eyes, hanging onto his every word. He knows he’s good at what he does, a far cry from the boy who used to get bread pelted at his head while he sang about hags and abortions.

Except that as he stands behind the stage at the Oxenfurt Music Festival, listening to a pair of Nazairi troubadours sing a lovely duet, his insides roil with the same queasy nervousness he’s carried with him all day. He glances over at Geralt to make sure the witcher doesn’t notice. Geralt is leaning against the wall, looking remarkably stoic for a man who has been dragged to a music festival entirely against his will. 

Jaskier can’t let him know how nervous he is, not when Geralt took on two wyverns singlehandedly only three days ago. The fact that Jaskier, who has been a traveling bard for years, who has faced far scarier things than a crowd of onlookers (usually while cowering behind Geralt, but his point stands) has stage fright is too mortifying to admit. Luckily, Jaskier is excellent at keeping his feelings under wraps after years of traveling with his witcher. He’s sure Geralt has no idea.

“You’re nervous,” Geralt says.

Fuckity fuck.

“Nervous?” Jaskier breaks off in a monologue about how he lost the Student Bardic Competition to Valdo Marx his final year due to trickery and biased judging. “I’m not nervous! Merely excited to claim yet another in my long list of accolades.”

“You stink of anxiety.”

Jaskier just manages to resist the urge to sniff himself. “Why, thank you, Geralt. How kind of you to say. And here I thought you liked this new perfume.”

Geralt just stares at him, unimpressed.

Jaskier sighs. “I seem to have come down with the tiniest case of stage fright.”

“Stage fright?” Geralt arches an eyebrow. “But you perform all the time.”

“Not at places like this.” Jaskier waves his hand in the direction of the stage.

“You just told me in detail about all seven times you performed here before. You said you won five times.”

“And it would have been all seven, if Valdo Marx weren’t a cad and a cheat.” Jaskier puffs up in remembered outrage. “But that was the Student Bardic Festival. Everyone expects the acts there to be a little bit shit. Melitele help them, but my classmates didn’t give me much of a run for their money, save for Valdo and Essi. This is the first time I’ve performed in a professional competition.”

“And that’s why you’re nervous.”

“Yes!” Jaskier throws up his hands in exasperation. “I know this isn’t a wyvern or an angry mob, but I don’t want to make a fool of myself in front of thousands of people!”

Geralt gets an expression on his face like he’s valiantly refraining from pointing out that Jaskier doesn’t normally care about making a fool of himself. “You perform all the time.”

“For drunks in taverns who won’t notice if I make a bunk of the pronunciation of an elven ballad or courtiers who wouldn’t know a wrong note if it hit them in the face. Many of these people are trained musicians themselves who have come from all over the Continent to be here today. I have to be perfect.”

“Then be perfect.”

“Geralt.” Jaskier moans and slaps his hands over his eyes. “Have you ever heard of Elsa Svensen?”

“You know I haven’t.”

“Of course you haven’t! She was a cautionary tale when I was at Oxenfurt, a rising star in the bardic circuit until she tried to sing The Six Swans at the Lan Exeter Bardic Festival.” At the blank look on his witcher’s face, Jaskier elaborates. “It’s a famously difficult ballad in Elder. Very long, lots of tricky notes. She butchered it so badly that she was laughed off stage! Suffice to say, there was an unfortunate mispronunciation and she sang a line about the hero committing unspeakable acts with a donkey in front of the entirety of Lan Exeter, including the king and queen. It ended her career. Rumor has it that she changed her name and is now working as a traveling player.”

Geralt doesn’t look suitably horrified, in Jaskier’s opinion.

“A traveling player, Geralt!” Jaskier practically shrieks, which isn’t good for his voice, but he can’t stop himself. “I can’t act! There isn’t a single troupe of traveling players that would have me. I’ll starve. Gods, I should never have let Essi talk me into this. I’m too young to live in disgrace. Can you go out there and tell them that a horrible tragedy has befallen me and an evil witch has stolen my voice? Ooh, yes, say I’ve ruined her for all other men and this is my punishment. Do you think we can find an actual witch in—”

He doesn’t realize Geralt is approaching him until the witcher presses a brief kiss to his lips.

Jaskier blinks, surprised. Geralt isn’t one for displays of affection where anyone else might see. “What are you—”

Geralt kisses him again. Jaskier can feel the curl of his lips.

“Geralt, this is—”

Another kiss, this one accompanied by Geralt nipping at his lower lip.

“Geralt,” Jaskier says through another kiss. “Are you trying to distract me?”

“Trying to shut you up.”

“How dare—”

Geralt kisses him again. “You were working yourself up.”

Jaskier opens his mouth to protest, then realizes he was just plotting to find an actual witch to steal his voice in order to get out of a performance. Perhaps Geralt has a point. “Right.”

“You know Elder too well to accidentally sing about donkeys. And if you do manage to fuck up so badly that you ruin your career, I won’t let you starve.”

Jaskier melts into him. “Geralt, that’s the sweetest—”

“Because you’re right, you’d be a shit traveling player.” Geralt’s lips quirk.

“You—”

Geralt kisses him again, slow and sweet, and Jaskier feels the last bit of tension drain out of him.

“Jaskier the Bard!” a woman’s voice calls from the stage. “Also known as the Dandelion!”

“That’s you.” Geralt pushes him towards the stage. “You’ll do great, Jask.”

Jaskier can’t help but smile at him. “How can I not, after a sweet pep talk like that?”

“Hm. Probably not as great as Valdo Marx did earlier.” A full-on smile spreads over Geralt’s face at Jaskier’s outrage. “But we’ll see.”

And just for that, Jaskier gives the best damn performance of his life. Which is probably what Geralt intended, the terrible man.

***

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

Kiss prompts

#the witcher #twn #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #ghost's writing #prompt fills

[samstree]

Jaskier hates sweet things, and Geralt loves them. It’s why they work well together.

“It’s why we work well together!” Jaskier exclaims, pushing his dessert plate towards Geralt. He’s only taken one spoonful of the cherry pie, made a face and declared it too sweet for his taste. “I hate sweets, and you love them—don’t try to deny me, dear. I’ve seen the way you look at the pastry stands when no one is watching.”

“Hmm.” Geralt’s cherry pie is long gone, and his mouth waters at the sight of Jaskier’s piece. “It’s yours. You paid for it.”

“Actually, my performance paid for both of our dinners.” Jaskier winks. “But as you can see, it’s become a burden for me, as I cannot stand anything with so much as a layer of frosting.”

Geralt is not, and that is more than enough. “I don’t need a second dessert, Jask,” he says. “Witchers can live on very little food.”

“But you’d be doing me a favor.” Jaskier bats his eyelashes. “Please? My gorgeous witcher, my brave champion, my most generous lover—”

“Fine,” Geralt interrupts, taking up his spoon. “Don’t finish the thought.”

Jaskier giggles, sitting back to watch Geralt eat. “It’s a saying even. They say a couple only works if one likes the food the other hates. This way, if it comes up on the dinner table, one can finish it for the other.”

It’s a cheeky saying, one that is definitely just been invented by Jaskier himself.

The pie is good though. The cherries add a hint of tartness to the cream frosting. Geralt chews slowly, letting the sweetness pop in his mouth. He closes his eyes with the last bite, and only opens them slowly afterward.

“Is it good?”

Jaskier watches Geralt with a quiet smile, his hand reaching forward on the table, his palm facing up. Geralt takes it and squeezes gently.

“It’s…sweet,” he answers, belly full and content.

It seems to satisfy Jaskier enough to press a tiny kiss on Geralt’s scarred knuckles.

“See?” Jaskier preens. “We work well together.”

☆ 

For some reason, Jaskier keeps buying sweets for himself.

The two lemon cakes are freshly baked, wrapped in paper and drizzled with honey, the warm aroma wafting through the busy marketplace. It reminds Geralt of a snowy day at Kaer Morhen, with the fireplace burning bright.

Jaskier holds them to his nose and takes a sniff, only to shove them into Geralt’s hands.

“Too sweet,” Jaskier says, pouting. “Finish them for me?”

Geralt sighs. “You can just not buy them.”

“Thought I wanted one, and now I don’t.” Jaskier shrugs. “Anyway, it’s good you’re here, so you can take care of them for me, dear. Meet me later?”

With that, Jaskier disappears into the crowd, leaving Geralt with the two cakes. They do look good, so he takes a bite, and then another.

He wouldn’t normally spend coin on luxuries such as fancy cakes, and whatever food he does purchase would be rationed carefully. Being on the road with a human calls for caution, as Jaskier is not nearly as sturdy as a witcher when it comes to on-and-off meals. Geralt always saves extra for him.

Which makes sweets the only indulgence he has. It’s okay. Jaskier hates sweet things so much he’d never eat them anyway.

The honey is sticky on Geralt’s fingers. He makes sure to lick the last of it clean.

☆   

Lettenhove bustles with the laughter of children. Every year they come back, there seem to be a dozen more of them. The extended family welcomes them with warm hugs, with Jaskier’s parents giving the tightest one.

Jaskier looks exhausted from traveling, but as soon as his nieces and nephews hug him on the leg, he seems to melt into a puddle all over again. The children drag him off to play games in the courtyard, and he can never say no to that.

Geralt can only shake his head and head straight to the kitchen. Jaskier skipped lunch to get here sooner, and the kids will soon run him ragged, so naturally, Geralt needs to fetch him something solid for later.

He encounters more cousins and uncles on the way, who all pat him on the back warmly. It’s still unreal to think the Pankratzes have just accepted Geralt as a member of the family. Even years later, it still takes a moment to wrap his head around the fact.

The smell of freshly baked biscuits comes from the kitchen, rich with caramel and butter.

“Oh, Geralt!” Mira, Jaskier’s older sister exclaims when she finds him in the doorway, her eyes as blue as Jaskier’s, full of a big smile. “How was your travel? Good weather, I hope?”

“Good,” Geralt nods. “The road was easy. Jaskier was missing you, so we didn’t rest today.”

“Well, we missed him too, and you, of course.” Mira always manages to soften Geralt, putting him at ease. “You both must be so hungry. All that witchering must be hard, you look much thinner, Geralt. I’m sure it’s the same with Julian. It’s good timing! The biscuits are just done. I made his favorite, made it extra sweet with caramel just for our Julian.”

Geralt blinks, confused. “For who?”

“Who else has the biggest sweet tooth in Lettenhove? Of course it’s my baby brother, your Jaskier.” Mira turns to put the biscuits into a plate, amused by fond memories. “He used to sneak into the kitchen at night just for the candied fruits we keep for the holidays. It’s embarrassing how long he kept it up, even right before we sent him off to university.”

In the distance, Geralt can hear Jaskier’s voice, playing with the children and laughing loudly.

Geralt takes the plate from Mira, and stares for a moment.

☆  

The biscuits, as it turns out, are decimated instantly by the children.

Only crumbs are left on the plate by the time Jaskier walks up behind the kids, his cheeks flushed and hair a mess.

“How’s the family treating you, dear?” Jaskier asks, equal parts amused and sympathetic. “Not overwhelmed by them? I have to apologize if you are. The Pankcratzes are an overwhelming people. It just can’t be helped, as you see.” He spread his arms dramatically, gesturing to the kids running around behind him, with biscuit crumbs on their chins. “But we do try to overwhelm you with love!”

“Yes,” Geralt muses quietly, a familiar mushy feeling spreading through his chest. “That you do, Jaskier.”

Geralt isn’t sure what expression he’s making, but it must be worrying enough. Jaskier steps closer with a serious face.

“What is it?” A frown creeps up on Jaskier’s brow. “Is anything wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong.” Geralt holds the empty plate tightly, shaking his head. “Mira knew this would happen and saved a few biscuits in the kitchen. They are made extra sweet, with caramel.”

Something flickers in Jaskier’s eyes. It’s subtle, barely there, a flash of excitement that appears out of instinct but is suppressed quickly.

It’s something Geralt should have seen long ago.

Jaskier, he realizes, is a sweet tooth.

Has been this whole time.

“It sounds lovely.” Jaskier nudges Geralt on the elbow. “Do you want to go and try it? Go then! Mira must be dying to feed you after seeing you’ve gotten thin, and—oh, Geralt, what are you doing?”

Within a heartbeat, Geralt has taken Jaskier into his arm, kissing him passionately. It’s awkward with him still holding the plate, and Jaskier’s youngest niece, Issy, makes a disgusted noise, but Geralt can’t find it in his heart to care.

He kisses Jaskier until the bard has to pull away with a flustered smile, his hands holding onto Geralt’s shoulder for balance. Jaskier’s cheeks have gone wonderfully red, his eyes shining with love.

“What, um,” Jaskier clears his throat. “What was that for? Not that I’d ever complain.”

Geralt stares into those cornflower blue eyes he’s known for years, and finds a new way to fall in love all over again. “I got a little…” he answers, exhaling deeply, “overwhelmed.”

“Oh,” Jaskier breathes. “In a good way?”

“Very.” Geralt kisses Jaskier’s nose one last time before letting him go. “Do you want to come with me? Try Mira’s biscuits. Just this once. Maybe you’ll like it.”

“But I don’t—”

“Please?” Geralt looks at Jaskier pleadingly. He knows Jaskier won’t say no to that look. “For me?”

Jaskier beams, his grin spreading impossibly wide, looking stupidly happy.

“Alright,” Jaskier agrees chirpily, taking Geralt’s arm. “You know I’d do anything for you, but you are being unreasonably amiable today. What’s gotten into you?”

Geralt lets Jaskier wraps himself around his side as they return to the kitchen, the rich scent of caramel filling his lungs once again. It seeps into his core, indistinguishable from the ever-growing affection he feels for Jaskier.

“Just,” Geralt says finally, voice hushed like it’s a secret, “I find you sweet, is all. The sweetest.”

Luckily, Geralt loves sweet things.

#geraskier #geraskier fic #fluff #established relationship #my spirit is hardened and yet my fic is soft #it's a problem really

[flowercrown-bard]

Aghast, Jaskier pressed a hand to his chest, as he stared at Geralt, who looked as if he hadn't just admitted to the most heartbreaking thing the poet had ever heard.

"But in eighty years, not even once!" he exclaimed.

Calmly, Geralt shrugged.

"Didnt think it would be such a shock to you."

"Excuse me, of course it comes as a shock to hear that one of the kindest, sweetest, most lovely -"

Feeling his cheeks warm up, Geralt let out a half-hearted warning growl, that didn't do anything to stop Jaskier.

"- genuine people I have ever met, has never received flowers from anyone."

Heartbroken didn't even come close to the look on Jaskier's face, as he took Geralt's hand.

"I don't mind," Geralt said, forgetting to put the growl into his voice, as he stared dumbly at Jaskier's thumb rubbing circles into the back of his hand.

Jaskier huffed in indignation.

"Keep saying that, if you please, but I still think it's an I justice."

Letting go of Jaskier's hand felt like leaving home, yet Geralt didn't stop the bard, as he dropped his hand.

"My duty as your best friend is to care about you and make sure you're feeling properly appreciated, so -"

Never pausing in his speech, Jaskier squinted at the grass next to the road they were walking on.

"Oh!"

Perking up, Jaskier skipped ahead a couple of steps.

Quickly, he bent down and plucked something off the ground, immediately hiding it behind his back.

Raising an eyebrow, Geralt tried to silently ask Jaskier what he had found, but for once, Jaskier stayed silent.

Slowly, almost reverently, he waited for Geralt to catch up with him.

Then, he presented him with a bright purple flower.

Unsure what to do, Geralt only stood there dumbfounded.

"Very well," Jaskier sighed with a fond roll of his eyes, "guess I'll have to do it myself."

With that, he stepped closer, gently brushed Geralts hair behind his ear and ever so carefully tucked the flower behind it as well.

"Xeranthemum, also known as immortelles," Jaskier started to explain, caressing the blooms one last time before dropping his hand, "stand for things that are everlasting, just like us."

"You're staying with me then?" Geralt asked and even as he said it, he knew that it wasn't really a question.

"Zeugls, ghouls and selkimores combined wouldn't be able to make me leave your side," Jaskier said and slipped his hand once more into Geralt's, where it stayed for the rest of the day.

#Alphabet game #Thank goodness I found a flower beginning with x that also stood for everlasting love #It's getting harder to do this every time #My writing #Geraskier #Geralt #Jaskier #Yeah I'm once again doing this to procrastinate the next arranged marriage chapter but shhhh #Witcher #Fic #Ficlet

[annmarcus63]

Jaskier is the luckiest man on the continent. He and Geralt are together now. After so many years of longing, the witcher has finally seen him. He can finally comb the witcher's hair and pep kisses all over his handsome face. He can cherish him every way he can to make him feel wanted, worthy of love and safety. 

The best part? Geralt is willing to accept his love and he seems happy with it. Jaskier wants to believe that even more happy that when he is with Yennefer. Geralt also shows him how much he cares about him. Some days Jaskier finds in the witcher's gaze something close to love. Jaskier's happy too.

Geralt hugs him close at night, the sounds of crickets the only thing that break their closeness, their love. Jaskier is starting to believe this is going to last forever. They want to spend their lives together as long as destiny lets them. It's the perfect life.

Too perfect. The truth crushes his reality in the form of a beautiful and dangerous sorcerer.

"It's not real, bard" says Yennefer in a mocking tone.

"You're only jealous cause I won! Geralt now loves me as much as he loves you, no, I think he loves me more!" he's behaving like a child, he knows, but he's allowed to do it after so many years trying to be better than her, trying to get Geralt's attention.

"You haven't told him?" it worries Jaskier that the mocking expression on Yennefer shifts immediately to one of apprehension.

“I can’t” says Geralt looking away from them.

"Ok, now what are you talking about?" every time Geralt and Yennefer have a silent conversation Jaskier is always the one to lose. Please let this not be it. The bard pleads silently to no one in particular.

"Yen" Geralt warns but Yennefer doesn't listen to him, she never does.

"He's under a spell bard" says her while looking at his eyes with grave seriousness, like you'd do to a child.  "This is not real. The same spell prevents Geralt from telling you the truth. I'm sorry."

"But... no, no, it's not truth. Geralt, tell her." The witcher look at him with so much sorrow and shame drowning the love from before. And then, Geralt looks away and doesn't say anything.

He can't see anything behind the fat tears wetting his face. The white noise in his ears must be the noise of his heart shattered beyond repair.

Jaskier turns around, takes his things from Roaches saddlebags, and flees to the trees.

He thinks he hears Geralt calling his name.

This is a part form a love spell au I publish a long ago but i can't seem to find. Sorry for that.

#geraskier #the witcher #the witcher netflix #jaskier x geralt #jaskier #julian alfred pankratz #geralt of rivia #sorry for the angst #angst angst baby #yennefer of vengerberg #don't hate her she's doing what she thinks it's the right thing to do #joey batey #geralt x jaskier

[shanastoryteller]

happy pride!! geraskier? 🏳️‍🌈

Yennefer doesn't think anything of the silver ring on Geralt's left hand. He's a witcher, for fuck's sake.

She keeps not thinking of it until she stumbles on him at a pub, which wouldn't be too strange except there's a semi-talented bard belting out a tune, jaunty and uplifting enough that the whole place is rowdy with it.

"I didn't know you liked music," she says, sliding into the chair next to him with a goblet full of mead.

He doesn't seem surprised at her presence, but he never does. He almost smiles at her, the closest he gets when they're still clothed. "I don't really have a choice."

She's still trying to puzzle that out when the bard careens towards their table and plops himself in Geralt's lap, continuing to play and sing from his new position.

Yennefer freezes, waiting for Geralt to shove him aside or start yelling or even draw his sword. Instead he smirks, pointedly turning his head away to drink his beer. The bard goes so far to lean back into his chest, his head falling over Geralt's shoulder and singing directly into his ear.

The volume can't be comfortable if nothing else, but Geralt doesn't so much as flinch. Neither do the other patrons, laughing and shouting and no one screaming obscenities' or going green at the sight of a witcher.

For a moment, Yennefer almost thinks that she's not speaking to Geralt at all, but she dismisses the thought just as quickly. Her magic would sense if he were a doppler or under a glamour.

The bard only stands once he's finished, bowing to all the clapping patrons and accepting several beers when he refuses an encore - or a second encore, based on what several people are yelling.

People eventually dissipate and the bard drops into the seat next to Geralt. "Who's the pretty lady?" he asks, taking Geralt's beer instead of any of the full ones littering the table.

"She could eat you," he says but the bard just laughs.

She notices a familiar silver ring on his left finger and her eyes drop to Geralt's hand. They're identical.

"Sorry that he's so rude," the bard says, holding out his hand. "I'm Jaskier. You're gorgeous."

She doesn't take his hand, instead slowly moving her gaze between them. "How do you two know each other?"

Geralt sighs. "Don't-"

"Carnally," he says, "physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually, metaphysically-"

"Do you even know what that means?" Geralt asks.

"Alchemically," Jaskier continues, "holistically-"

"I'm going to divorce you," he says, which at least answers that question.

Jaskier shrugs. "You can try. How did you two meet?"

Yennefer stills. She's not pleased with being the other women, but she's not about to get in the middle of anyone's marital business, even Geralt's, so she'll just agree with with whatever lie Geralt tells.

"She put a curse on me and now we sleep together," he says.

Jaskier looks her over, but less like a jealous lover and how she's used to men looking at her. "Nice."

He holds his hand up for a hand five which Geralt ignores. Jaskier pouts.

A very pretty barmaid comes over, holding a cup of the same mead Yennefer is drinking. "Hello, Jaskier," she says shyly, the lines around her eyes taking nothing away from the lush curves of breast and thigh. "You have such a lovely voice. I'd love to hear more of it, later, if you're free."

Jaskier looks to Geralt with a raised eyebrow. Geralt shrugs.

"No time like the present, my lady," he says, bouncing to his feet. He takes the mead in one hand and settles the other on her hip, leading her toward the stairs.

Yennefer stares. "You're just going to let him do that?"

He shrugs again. "You can sleep with him too if you want. He's the one that taught me the thing with my tongue that you like so much."

Interesting, but not currently her focus. "Why didn't you tell me you were married?"

How the hell is a witcher married? To a bard, of all people?

"You didn't ask," he answers, and then says nothing else.

Okay, just for that she is going to sleep with his husband.

#prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #kourasmenos #witcher

[starfirewildheart]

Chapter 3

The Wolf and the Flame

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

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

Words: 1717

They had been traveling for nearly a week. Naurel was getting stronger but Geralt was still worried. He knew something was not as it should be with her but he couldn't seem to get her to open up about the things that had happened. They came to the last city between them and the final part of the journey to Kaer Morhen. He knew they had to stop and restock supplies. Also, the humans needed a soft bed and warmth for a bit. They left the horses at the stable and walked over to the Inn. Naurel was leaning against him, holding his arm to help support herself or for his warmth, he wasn’t sure which. All he knew was that he didn’t mind it. In fact, he felt at peace when they were touching. 

Ciri heard someone singing inside the bar at the inn and bound up the steps. “It’s Jaskier,” she said excitedly. 

“Ciri,” Gerault sighed as she ran inside ahead of him. “Damn it that girl never listens.” He and  Naurel moved faster to catch up with her. Once inside Geralt grabbed Ciri’s arm and leaned close, whispering something to her that made her shiver and look repentant before he led her and Naurel to a table to sit. “Stay here where I can see you both while I get us a couple of rooms.” 

Naurel waited until he walked away to put her hand on Ciri’s arm that was resting on the table. “You are going to get hurt or end up making him so angry that he’s going to punish you.”

Ciri rolled her eyes. “Please, he’s not my father. I have no family which makes me an adult. I’m in charge of me.”

“You are far from an adult little miss and you are showing that childishness more and more by the day,” Naurel warned. “He cares about you. He worries about you. Stop making it harder for him.” She knew that Geralt was struggling to figure out how to deal with a child. He knew how to deal with a misbehaved witcher but not a young human girl so he just took what she dished out. The yelling, arguing, not listening, stubbornness that she likely got away with as a spoiled little princess and Naurel was losing patients with her. Ciri was a loving girl but she was being a huge brat. She looked up at Geralt as he sat heavily in a chair beside her, noting that he put himself where his back would be up against the wall. “Everything alright?”

He nodded. “Got two rooms with an adjoining door,” he eyed Ciri, “and a large tub.” He grinned when Naurel sighed happily. 

“Mmm, a bath sounds heavenly. Maybe if I boil myself I will actually heat my blood and stop having to steal your warmth,” she smiled at him. 

He reflexively pulled her close. “I don’t mind sharing warmth.”

Ciri made a slight gagging sound drawing their attention. “You two need to get a room.”

“We have a room. Two in fact,” Geralt smirked at her. He loved their teasing banter when she wasn’t driving him mad with worry. Naurel was listening to the two of them and jumped when someone plopped down in a chair near her at the end of the table.

“Geralt you gorgeous beast, who are you lovely friends?”

Geralt shook his head and sighed. “Jaskier,” he nodded in greeting. He let Naurel and Ciri introduce themselves though kept his arm possessively around Naurel. Jaskier was a friend but he was also amorous and for some reason that bothered him where his newest companion was concerned.

“How did two such lovely creatures end up with such a grumpy, silent companion?” Jaskier wondered. 

“He’s not silent nor grumpy,” you smiled at the bard. 

“He’s grumpy and bossy,” Ciri teased. 

The waitress approached and Geralt ordered food for the three of them before joining the conversation. “I’m surprised to find you this far north this close to the snowy season.  I know you hate cold weather.”

“You are right,” Jaskier chuckled. “Oddly enough I’ve been looking for you. You are a very hard witcher to find. You would think with the white hair, yellow eyes, and rippling muscles that you would stand out more.” Naurel chuckled.

“Jaskier,” Geralt grumbled, stopping the bard from babbling. “Why were you looking for me? Is everything alright?” 

“A friend, no, no she’s not a friend she’s a,” he stopped himself before he finished his thought. “Someone we have in common needs to speak with you. She’s rather insistent and very annoying and she keeps following me. I implore you, please speak to her before I throw myself off a cliff.”

Geralt paused as if he was considering the option of speaking to someone or letting him jump, only answering when Jaskier whined indignantly. He had an idea of who the bard was talking about but he wondered why she just didn’t come to him herself. He’d heard that she survived the battle of Sodden from Triss and he was happy to hear his friend was still alive. “Is she here?”

“I’m here,” Yennefer said from behind him. “We need to speak, alone,” she looked at the others pointedly. 

He nodded and stood. “Jaskier, stay with them until I return?”

“Of course,” he smiled as he started asking both of them questions.

Yennefer led Geralt to an out-of-the-way corner near the stairs. She noticed that he positioned himself so that he could still see the table. “I need your help. Something has happened. I’ve searched everywhere, through all the lore about magic and chaos except the books at Kaer Morhen.”

“What are you searching for?”

“A spell,” she lied. “I am searching for a spell to try and help Istredd study the monoliths.” She wasn’t going to expose her weakness to anyone. It was bad enough that the old woman was in her head calling to her, telling her to bring both the woman and the girl to her; she wasn’t about to tell him she had lost her ability to do magic as well.

“Why doesn’t that ring true to me?” Geralt gave her a look.

“Fine, don’t help me,” she hissed and started to walk away.

“Yennefer,” he stopped her. “Portal to Kaer Morhen. Vesemir is willing to work with sorceresses and mages. He will show you the books you are looking for.”

“Why don’t we just travel together?” she asked. “Seems like you seem to be gathering a rather large party on your journey,” she eyed his new friends. “I could help you look after them. They both seem sort of defenseless.”

He could use some help protecting them since Ciri seemed to be so dead set on getting herself hurt. Maybe with Yennefer’s magic, he could actually rest a bit. “You want to travel, on foot, in the cold. You know it will be snowing soon?”

“Please witcher, the weather does not bother me,” she scoffed and walked back to the group at the table. She made sure to place herself next to Naurel where Geralt had been. Jealousy made her blood boil when she noticed how Geralt looked at the woman. The witcher and his new child suprise were supposed to be her family, not this woman's. She was tired of life screwing her over and giving everyone else what was rightfully hers.

Geralt frowned but sat next to Ciri. “Yennefer has decided to join us for the rest of our journey home.” Naurel looked into his eyes in question but didn’t speak, Jaskier however did.

“I’m going to then,” he insisted.

“I thought you wanted to be rid of her?” Geralt asked.

“Rid of me?” Yennefer scoffed. “I saved your life.”

“No, you distracted him so I could run. That’s not saving me, that's being a tease,” Jaskier argued. Ciri laughed at the two of them.

Their food was served and Naurel picked a small piece off of her bread and ate it as she listened to Jaskier tell stories of his time with Geralt. The bard was funny and he had kind eyes. She liked him. She could see how he would get on Geralt’s nerves though with his knack for babbling and Geralt being stoic and quiet.

‘The redhead! Bring the red head’ the deathless mother screamed in her head over and over. It was becoming hard to ignore but she pushed it to the back of her mind and continued on with the conversation. “Awe you left out the story of how the three of us met,” Yennefer interjected. “All bloody and dying because of the Djinn. Geralt, ever the protector, riding in to find me to save you.” She saw the muscles in Geralt’s jaw flex as he clenched his teeth.

“Well, he ended up saving you too,” Jaskier snapped. “More than saving you if I remember correctly.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighed.

The bard looked up and quickly realized he’d said too much. “But he came to his senses!”

She closed the door behind her before laying on the bed next to her friend. “He thought she was dead,” she explained softly. She wanted to be sure she knew Geralt had not intentionally tried to hurt her though Ciri never realized that Yennefer and Geralt were mates.

“I know,” her voice choked as she lost her battle with her tears. “It’s my fault,” she repeated to herself more than Ciri. She took the comfort Ciri offered and allowed the young girl to play with her hair before she ran over to the chamber pot and vomited.

Wolf and flame tag list

@kneelforloki

@shellyshellshell

#geralt x reader #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fanfic

[artistsfuneral]

The Road to Kaer Morhen - p.4

Jaskier's heart was hammering inside his chest. He knew that Aiden could hear it clear as day and wondered if his own heartbeat quickened Aiden's as well. Outside the voices grew louder, angrier. Jaskier bit his lip.

“Alright, fine! We'll do it your way,” the bard hissed through gritted teeth, “Just- let's hurry, please.” Aiden nodded at him encouragingly. “Of course. Thanks for trusting me, Jaskier.”

With their minds set on the same goal, Jaskier and Aiden stood in unison and opened the door that separated their bedroom from the long hallway that let to both the stairs and a single open window. Training his ears on the downstairs commotion, Aiden stepped out first, Jaskier close behind him clutching the handle of his short sword. They made it just past the stairwell when the door to the inn burst open and the telltale sound of heavily armored men echoed up to them. Unable to help himself the Cat Witcher turned around and made a 'I-told-you-so' face at Jaskier, who rolled his eyes and ushered him along.

Once they made it to the window it was clear from the sounds that the redanian soldiers were forcing their way into every single room of the inn, scaring the guests and servants.

“I'll go first,” Aiden said, already shoving his pack through the wooden frame and onto the withered roofing. “Throw me your things, then I can catch you easier when it's your turn.” He sighed with annoyance when he saw the dubious look on Jaskier's face. “I'm a Cat, I've been catching people ever since I could lift them.” It wasn't as reassuring as Aiden may have thought. Jaskier told him exactly that while he watched Aiden gracefully climb through the window.

“I am lacking the entire context for this to make any sense at all!”

Aiden gave him a look Jaskier couldn't read. “Cats, among other things, specialize in balance and climbing. From a very young age we balance on everything, everywhere. If you're not caught by someone you'd easily break something. Which obviously nobody wants to happen, so every Cat gets very good at catching people. It's only natural.”

It kind of made sense, Jaskier thought as he took notice how Aiden climbed down the roof in three moves, unknowingly making any of Jaskier's previous window escapes look pathetic. Granted, he wasn't wearing pants during half of them, but Aiden had that natural elegance to him that the bard envied. Still he winced, when it was his time to drop his things down the roof and he had to let go of his lute case.

Aiden caught it easily and placed it on the ground much more carefully than Geralt ever would have. Then Jaskier stood at the edge of the wonky roof and stared into the witcher's ember eye. “Come on, Jaskier. If I can catch three trainees at once, I can catch one silly bard.” Jaskier was up and about to argue that he was in fact not a silly bard but an amazing artist and should therefore be treated with more respectful nicknames, when a loud shout rang out right behind him and he froze mid movement.

“They're escaping through the windows!”

Out of the corner of his eyes Jaskier spotted the red and and gray armor and immediately understood that he had to think fast. Already kneeling with one leg, Jaskier dug his fingernails into one of the roof tiles and pulled at it with all his strength. It came loose almost too effortlessly and the bard did not hesitate to throw it right into the soldier's face. Jumping down roofs and balconies was always easier when his life was threatened.

He was down in no time, Aiden's arm steadying his fall like promised, barely had the time to secure his bag and lute on his back before the first soldiers were running around the corner and shouting at them to surrender in the name of the crown.

Neither Jaskier, nor Aiden found themselves really caring about the crown's desires shared one last look at each other and ran towards the market place as fast as they could.

The bard was quite familiar with this part of an adventurer's life and navigated through narrow alleys without difficulty. At this point there was no use in trying to hide his identity, but he could tell that Aiden was far more used to hiding away in the shadows than running past them. He'd have to be careful not to lose the witcher before they were swallowed up by the crowd where Aiden was back in his natural element of getting away through stealth alone.

“That one armed peasant is not Geralt of Rivia!” Fuck. Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck! Jaskier cursed in his mind as he darted around a corner and past a group of barrels he carelessly pushed into the way of his pursuers. Had he only spent his coin on that stupid coat, then they could've hidden Aiden's identity! As if searching for a one armed man wasn't an easy enough descriptor, if the soldiers should figure out that he was a witcher as well they'd surely be even more interested in catching them just for the bragging rights of the kill.

Melitele once again showed that she did not favor anyone. Fuck! “This way!” he called out to Aiden who suddenly looked a lot paler than he did minutes ago. “We're almost there,” he shouted just as the soldiers realized what they were trying to do.”Cut them off,” one screamed, “They're headed towards the market!”

please like and reblog if you voted

✨🌿🌼✨

hmh. Should we ship Jaskier with Aiden? 🤔 I mean it's 100% going to be Lambden but in my heart I need to make everything poly

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#the witcher #witcher #artistsfuneral about the witcher #geraskier #road to kaer morhen fic #jaskier #jaskier the bard #aiden #witcher aiden #artistsfuneral draws

[wyrm-mlm]

Yooooo I just had an idea for a modern Witcher AU that has latched my brain and won’t let go so I gotta just get it out:

Kaer Mohren Animal Hospital

Geralt, Lambert and Eskel all grew up, adopted by Vesemir and somehow all became Veterinarians. Then they decided to open an animal hospital together

Eskel is usually who you see if you bring in a cat or dog, handling the general practice. He’s kind with animals and people alike, sitting with clients as long as it takes to make sure they understand everything.

Lambert takes care of exotics, the weirder the better to him. If Eskel’s schedule is tight he’ll examine a dog or two but he refuses to work with cats. They hate him, he’s sure.

Geralt is usually on the road, tending to livestock. Horses are his favorite of course, and he has some of his own. When he’s at the clinic he will see dogs and cats too.

Yennifer is the lead Tech. She’s hard on her techs but they all know she does it for the good of the animals. She’s not great with clients.

Triss is basically her right hand and takes over if it’s Yen’s day off. She’s great with people and is usually the one to take scheduled euthanasias. It takes a lot out of her but she pretends it doesn’t effect her.

Letho is the muscle, and usually tags along with Geralt to help restraint with larger animals. He tends to intimidate people in the clinic so he’s happy to stay on the road most the time.

Coen is also the muscle but tends to stay at the clinic as he’s better with people. He can get a mastiff on the surgery table with little help. Though it’s catching up to him and he has chronic back pain. He has a hard time asking for help. Yen tends to scold him for that.

Iorveth runs a wildlife rehabilitation center and often brings in things to Lambert. They have to make sure his appointments are on different days from Roche(who helps Foltest with his show and hunting dogs. Basically a glorified assistant.) or the two will argue for hours in the waiting room if they run into each other.

Jaskier fosters animals constantly (he has a big heart and a deep wallet, what can he say?) so he’s commonly bringing in dogs and cats and the occasional exotic to make sure that they are healthy and can be rehomed. He flirts with everyone. All the time. Also a lot of business comes from people who he refers to the clinic.

Aiden is another tech. He has a way with cats that no one else does. Even clients are surprised. A lot of cat owners ask for him by name because of it.

Gaetan is a kennel tech that wants to become a vet some day. He dreams of opening an all cat hospital and roped Aiden into the idea. Lambert thinks they’re crazy.

Vesemir used to be a large animal vet but now works the books for his boys.

Ciri is Geralt’s god child and dreams of becoming a zoo vet some day and spends most of her time not at school at the clinic with Geralt.

That’s all I got for now, may add to it. If anyone has suggestions or head canons let me know. Also PLEASE if this inspires fanart or fanfics tag me.

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher games #the witcher books #jaskier #geralt #geralt of rivia #witcher lambert #lambert the witcher #Eskel #lambert #witcher eskel #letho of gulet #witcher letho #witcher gaetan #witcher aiden #vesemir #papa vesemir #witcher vesemir #yennifer #yennifer of vengerberg #witcher triss #triss merigold #ciri #cirillia #cirilla fiona elen riannon #I didn’t add any shops because 1 witchersexual Jaskier and 2 I want anyone who sees this au to be able to add the ships they want

[shy-urban-hobbit]

If these are prompts please can I get a "Good boy" with Lambden? 👀

This went pure angst!! I would apologise but I'm not sorry 😂

It was Kiyan-or rather, the news of him-who bought it on. Aiden had stared at the medallion Geralt presented, along with heartfelt condolences. The medallion which had belonged to a brother he’d thought long since dead when none could find any sign of him, only to find out that he’d spent the last few years in what could only be described as Hell.

Lambert had only managed to get out a cautiously whispered “Aiden?”, recognising the signs in the way his partners pupils were dilating wildly, the way his muscles started to tense and his breathing was starting to grow harsher. The Cat gave a noise between a whimper and a yowl before Lambert bundled him into his arms and made his way to an abandoned part of the Keep at a near run, feeling his Kittens claws digging deeper into the fabric of his tunic with every passing second.

 

 Geralt gently grasped a concerned Jaskier by the elbow to indicate that he should stay put, “Not the best idea, Lark. Aiden’s not in his best mind right now and he’d feel even worse if he hurt you.”

“Geralt’s right.” Eskel said, coming over to wrap an arm around his brother, unable to stand his guilty expression any longer, “Cat Witchers, sometimes when they feel an emotion strong enough it can consume them, is the best way to describe it. Aiden wouldn’t mean to hurt you but he wouldn’t register that it was you. He’d even attack Lambert in that state, has done once before I think.”

The air grew sharp with the scent of Jaskier’s concern, “Well, will Lambert be alright alone with him?”

Geralt drew Jaskier closer to his chest, “Lambert knows Aiden better than any of us. We trust he knows what he’s doing and besides, it’s best Aiden doesn’t feel outnumbered right now. Lambert will let us know if he truly needs help.”

 

Lambert’s back had grown stiff hours ago from sitting propped against the thick wooden door but no way was he moving even for a second, his worry and frustation just as fresh as it had been when he locked the door behind him, accompanied by the first of many bangs and snarls and shouts from the other side from Aiden who could smell him, but couldn’t reach him. When they’d agreed on this plan, Lambert never thought in a thousand years that they’d have to use it. Unfortunately for him it was one of the few things that Vesemir and Aiden had whole heartedly agreed on. If Aiden was to continue visiting the Keep they needed something in place in case something like this happened, Lambert was loath to let him work through it in the forests surrounding Kaer Morhen where he could fall victim to exposure, among other things, and letting him roam the keep when he was in the throes of Cat madness was out of the question. Accidental or not, Lambert knew from personal experience that Aiden hurting someone he cared about when in this state only pushed him dangerously close to it taking hold again. And so, this was the compromise that had been reached, Lambert playing jailer while waiting for Aiden to come through the other side alone and hurting.

It took him a few moments to realise that the room (more like a cell at this point in time) had been fairly quiet for a while now.

“Aiden?”

No response. That worried Lambert more than the constant barrage of noise had and he scrambled to his feet, dropping the key twice as he fumbled to get it in the lock.

“Aiden?”

Lambert’s heart broke a little for his love as he took in the sight before him. Aiden was crouched on all fours in a corner of the room, taking shaky breaths and dripping with sweat and blood. The same blood that was covering the walls in various places from where Aiden had clawed and punched.

“Oh, Kitten.” Lambert made to step forwards only to be made to stop by a flinch and a low growl. Lambert bit his lip, this was bad. He so wanted to gather Aiden in his arms and take care of him now the worst had passed but that wasn’t happening whilst Aiden was throwing him a look suggesting that he was in danger of getting his eyes clawed out if he took one step closer. Unbidden, a memory found it’s way to the forefront of Lambert’s mind.

 

“Will you stop squirming already?”

“It’s not my fault your hands are so cold! You dunk them in ice water before you came back up here or what?” Aiden complained from where he was lying shirtless on the bed.

“My cold hands are going to be the least of your problems in a minute.”

“That a promise?”

Lambert let out a warning growl as he went to dab at the wound on Aiden’s stomach again, the Cat flinched minutely but didn’t pull away this time, allowing Lambert to finish up cleaning and treating it. A flesh wound, it would be gone in a day or so.

“Good boy.” Lambert said absentmindedly and patting Aiden’s uninjured side in what was supposed to be condescension until he both felt and heard the hitch in the others breath. He flicked his eyes upwards, as much as Aiden was trying his hardest to avoid eye contact it was obvious that the Cats pupils had dilated slightly accompanied a small spike of arousal.

Huh.

“Aiden, you want to be good for me, don’t you?” He asked experimentally, letting his hand drift down to Aiden’s thigh as he dropped the cloth back in the slightly bloody water next to the bed.

Aiden tried to fight back a noise of want and failed miserably.

Lambert slowly trailed both hands up to Aiden’s wrists, guiding them above Aiden’s head

“Then behave. Leave these here, let me hear you properly and I’ll make sure you’re rewarded.” He said, squeezing Aiden’s wrists briefly for emphasis and rewarding him with a kiss when Aiden nodded eagerly before curling his fingers into the pillow as Lambert started slowly making his way downwards.

 

Lambert went back to contemplating the figure in front of him. It was entirely different circumstances but it wouldn’t hurt to try. He was always one for experimenting after all.

“Aiden, it’s me.” He took a slow step forwards,  “I just need you to stay there a second, alright?” Another step. Aiden growled again in response but didn’t move as he kept still slightly hazy eyes firmly on Lambert, “Good boy, that’s it. You’re doing so well for me.”

And so it went, Lambert slowly making his way over, keeping up a steady stream of “Good boy, you’re alright. So good doing what I asked, so brave.”

It was when Lambert crouched down in front of him, taking a bloody hand in his and praising Aiden yet again for not attacking him that the Cat seemed to come back to himself a little more, letting out a shaky “Lambert?”

“I’m here, Kitten.” Lambert answered, trying not to wince at the wooden splinters buried under broken nails. He suddenly found the hand replaced with an arm full of shaking Cat, who appeared to be apologising to him over and over.

“I didn’t....” Aiden trailed off, gazing at Lambert pleadingly with watery eyes.

“No, everyone’s fine. You did so well, following Vesemir’s instructions and letting me bring you here. If anyone should be apologising it’s me for leaving you in here alone.”

Aiden shook his head, “No. Didn’t want to hurt...”

“I know, and I love you so much for that.”

He grabbed Aiden’s chin gently and guided it to the crook of his neck when it looked like he was moving to take in the state of the room. He knew Aiden would be able to smell the blood and no doubt feel the pain in his broken hands and the scratches on his arms and face (because of course Aiden would turn on himself when there was nobody else. Fuck, Lambert was an idiot for not considering that) but that didn’t mean Lambert wanted him to see it.

“I’m taking us to our room. Focus on me until we get there. Alright?” he asked, hoisting Aiden into his arms again as he stood and giving another quiet “Good boy.” When he felt Aiden nod against his neck and bury his nose deeper.

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

[dapandapod]

oh my god, I need this in my life ;____; Pairing is dealer's choice.

36. unconsciously searching out each other’s hand while sleeping

Look. I kinda missed the mark here, in a sense, as did I miss the timely window to write/reply.... xD anyway here it is? some Geraskier, a healthy dose of pining, and a lot of semi-platonic cuddling! Thank you Ebs my love for beta-reading! And I hope you like it, Kuri-darlin! Please enjoy <3 On Ao3 here!

It starts, as it often does between the two of them, with a deep bottle of spirit and a great idea. Usually, it’s one of Jaskier’s, but this time neither of them will claim the responsibility.

Skinnydipping is a much better plan in summer temperatures, rather than in late spring. Cold water from the icy mountains is still trickling down in rivers and finding itself in the lake they are now rushing out of, bare as the day they were born.

Jaskier isn’t shrieking, he never is, he is just flexing his vocal chords. Geralt is telling him that he is indeed shrieking, and that he should stop before it gets shrill enough to call the local dogs over.

Punching Geralt’s chest is very different when he is not wearing any clothes, skin cool and slippery, and Jaskier loses himself for a moment.

This is where it all begins, in a sense.

They are both rather lost, directionless in the free way of the traveling pair they are, but still trying to make out what path is theirs, and if what they will find at the end of the road will please them.

Geralt grasps Jaskier’s hand, and holds it to his chest. If asked, he will say he is clearly making sure Jaskier won’t be able to punch him again, but if you ask Jaskier, the only thing he will remember is firm fingers around his wrist, chest hair rough against his knuckles.

When Jaskier does not immediately protest, just stares at their hands with wide eyes, Geralt declares the bard too drunk, and he pulls Jaskier with him towards land by the hand.

Getting dressed one handed is… even more complicated while drunk, but the witcher does not let go of the bard, and leads him all the way to their rooms. They technically have their own rooms, but somehow they both end up in Jaskier’s room, only half way into the bed.

Later, Geralt remembers waking up with Jaskier’s fingers laced through his, and turns to look at his face lax in sleep, pressed against the mattress.

It happens again, of course it does. This time they are between inns, with winter and his bad timing stealing one last cold night before spring broke through properly.

They have found alright shelter, compromising the comfort of the open forest floor for keeping warm, snuck in the crack of a rock formation.

The fire is doing wonders, and despite the smoke stinging their eyes, Jaskier is looking decidedly snuggly with the fire behind him outlining his figure.

Their bedrolls are side by side, and Jaskier has grabbed onto Geralt’s hand, marveling over… well, marveling in general actually.

This time there is no alcohol between them, just a sense of peace and amusement, and Geralt watches Jaskier trace each digit, using both hands to look this way and that.

His knuckles are getting a great deal of attention, as is his thumb and palm. While he does it, Jaskier tells a story about his mother and a fortune teller that probably was a sham, but there once was this palm reader he met in Novigrad, and did you know that the placing or lack of calluses really tells a lot about you as a person?

Geralt listens with a smile, and snarks at the obvious holes in the storytelling when Jaskier is making too much up again, and, between one heartbeat and the next, Jaskier’s eyes droop shut.

He is still holding onto Geralt’s hand, one cradling the side of his hand and his pinky, the other holding onto his thumb. Even as specks of snow trickle down from above, and the wind howls, the fire crackles merrily, and Jaskier is holding his hand in his sleep.

Geralt doesn’t take his hand back, and in the morning they have inched closer, and Jaskier is holding Geralt’s hand against himself like you would a teddy bear.

Not long after the summer solstice, they make a close acquaintance with death. Her foul breath brushes the bard’s cheek as a Necker’s claw dug into his flesh.

Lucky for all of them, Jaskier is wearing a leather coat, and instead of being fatal, it just ends up being very fucking painful.

Blood is not a good look on bards, at least not their own, Geralt decides when Jaskier sits eerily quiet after being patched and bundled up in a barn that they’ve got to borrow for the night, with the promise not to bleed on the hay.

That night, Geralt reaches for Jaskier’s hand, holding it as he presses himself up against the bard’s back, listening to his even breaths and rapid heartbeat, infinitely grateful he made it in time to save him.

As with anything, spend enough time doing something and a habit is formed.

It isn’t every time, nor is it a conscious thought, but if there is but an arm's length between them, they will either end up half way out of their bedrolls and meet in the middle, fingers lacing together, or when they’re sitting idly next to each other for whatever reason, their fingers will seek each other out, sometimes barely touching, and other times overlapping.

It stops being a conscious choice, it is something just done. Jaskier eagerly grabbing his hand as he tells exciting news and then forgets to let go, or Geralt wanting to keep track of him, or to support him, or when in a crowd.

It’s natural, an anchor when they are in danger of getting lost.

They part, and they reunite later that summer, and that fall Geralt grabs Jaskier’s hands to rub them warm, to breathe on them to help him regain temperature.

He knows you shouldn’t breathe on them, knows how a breath actually can make them colder, but Geralt may or may not be accidentally brushing his lips to Jaskier’s knuckles, and Jaskier is pretending not to notice, pretending he doesn’t have fine rabbit gloves tucked in his backpack, gifted by the very witcher right in front of him.

Things change, and also they don’t.

Dragons and witches and a child of the elder blood marks each change in their own way. Jaskier finds himself waking up, holding his own hand in his cold room in Kaer Morhen, and Geralt’s hand reaches across the empty bed for the bard’s even before he registers not to.

Another bottle of spirits, this time a stolen Nilfgaardian booze smelling absolutely terrible with the aftertaste of dirt, and another bright idea later, and Jaskier and Geralt once again find themselves sprawled halfway across Jaskier’s bed.

Geralt had to pull him up the stairs by the hand to keep their balance, or so they told themselves. The White gull Geralt ended up downing tastes terrible on the second day he notes, shifting and pulling the warmth by his side closer.

Jaskier grunts in his ear and knees his thigh, but only when he tightens his hold around hot, sweaty fingers does Geralt realize what he’d been missing. Jaskier is tangled against him, arm trapped under himself in an angle that will promise complaints the moment he wakes up. It is warm, and it is comfortable, and Geralt is slowly coming to terms with what pleases him.

Relearning how to share a bed is much easier when you have an anchor, a focal point, or it would have been if Geralt wasn’t startled awake by Jaskier almost falling out of bed. They resettle, Jaskier now firmly between the witcher and the wall, and the back of Geralt’s hand pressed against his lips as sleep reclaims him.

It doesn’t matter if they are awake or not, they reach for each other like a weed craves the sun, like roots seeking dirt, like vines growing where they find purchase.

The day Geralt wakes up and finally finds courage, he kisses Jaskier’s palm, and Jaskier kisses his lips.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #holding hands #hand holding prompts 2021 #shuddup i am so in time it's not been years #fluff #friends to lovers #getting together #dapanda writes #jaskier the bard #geralt of rivia

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

Stranger Things

Where the 20 Chain Links Lead by fandsart

Steve has always known he’s stupid. While it wasn’t exactly something he took pride in, it hadn’t really ever bothered him until he started socializing with what could probably be described as some of the smartest people in Hawkins. It doesn’t help that most of those people were so much younger than him.

A character study of one Steve Harrington, and a glacial slowburn Steddie fix-it fic

chat with you, baby (flirt a little, maybe) by desiccatedwithering (acornsofthemind) (+ podfic)

"Hey, shitheads!” Steve “the hair” Harrington barks, looming in the doorway like a monster from the Abyss. “What the fuck are you doing in here? Get your asses down to the gym right fucking now.”

Eddie gapes. First of all, the audacity— Second, he’s never been much for physical fights, but if this douchebag thinks he can bully any of Eddie’s kids, he’ll have to go through Eddie first.

“Let’s go! Move it!” Harrington snaps, making an impatient gesture down the hall.

SVSSS

Achievement Unlocked by The Feels Whale (miscellea)

One day, after five years of reasonably peaceful marriage with only a few kidnappings and sex pollen incidents, Shen Yuan is sent back to his old body without warning. Luo Binghe makes a deal with an alien entity calling itself the System to perform a mission in exchange for the ability to bring his husband home.

The mission is simple; [Uncover secret transmigrator plotline and flesh out the character wiki!]

At least it will be once he figures out what the words ‘transmigrator’ and ‘wiki’ mean.

Or: That one where Shen Yuan and Luo Binghe don’t realize they’re in a domestic fluff bonus chapter.

Written for the 2021 MXTX Big Bang with art created by Ataratah

The Witcher

The Footsteps We Follow by thiswildheart

Look, Jaskier's got a lot going on. He's painfully aware that there are cataclysmic events happening and that the troubled teenager he knows might save the world or speed along the end of days. He's also in love with a man who's never even admitted that they're friends, which is almost as bad.

Oh, and he's still working as the Sandpiper, only now a terrifying eldritch creature has entrusted him with the Song of the Seven to give hope to the elves and help them fight back against their oppression. It's probably the bravest thing he's ever done, but not everyone sees it that way.

Luckily he knows some people who excel at last minute rescues.

... then he just has to figure out how to tell Geralt why so many people are trying to kill him. This is going to go great.

Clone Wars

Every Shadow by Kenobster (kenobster)

The days on Kadavo were long, but the nights moved quickly. Hundreds of pairs of wide, sleepless eyes haunted the space of the holding cells. Droves of terror clogged the heavy, sweaty air, and every sound, however faint, was like a physical ripple across the crowd. Every sound. The jingling of keys, the clicking of locks, the thudding of boots, and that’s how the nights on Kadavo started—with a gradual increase in the degree of quiet.

OR—during the mass casualty event following Kadavo and Zygerria, Obi-Wan and Anakin seek ways to cope with trauma.

Shadowhunters

We All Want (to Change the World) by opalish

It starts with Simon, which explains why the entire process is such an unrelenting headache.

or, Alec's startlingly quick journey from Head of the New York Institute to Inquisitor.

#happy weekend! #once again i need to change this series to fornightly or monthly fic round up because i am Not uploading weekly #but i'm too far into this series at this point #i've got to stick to the tag #my posts #fic recs #stranger things recs #witcher recs #sw recs #shadowhunters recs #svsss recs #weekly fic round up

[ghostinthelibrarywrites]

if you have time i would love to see what you do with prompt number #5 “i can’t believe i married you” with geraskier please!! i feel like geralt would say this when jaskier is being silly and ridiculous but also jaskier would use it when geralt gives him only one good morning kiss instead of two lol. but only if you have time!!!! 💖✨💖✨

Jaskier is still half-asleep as he shuffles to the fridge, his eyes bleary and unfocused after a late night of composing. Hoping for a few slices of last night’s leftover pizza, he opens the fridge, only to let out a little shriek of surprise when he finds a pair of bulbous eyes staring back at him.

“Geralt!” he yelps. “What the fresh fuck is in our fridge?”

His witcher appears in the doorway, already dressed and ready for the day. “A drowner head.”

“Right, good,” Jaskier says. “Let me rephrase. Why the fuck is it in our fridge?”

“It didn’t fit in the freezer.”

“Geralt!”

Geralt’s lips twitch. “Its brains are useful for potions. I’m going to harvest them later.”

“Not in our kitchen, you’re not.”

“Would you prefer the bedroom?”

“Geralt, I swear to Melitele, if you get drowner brains on the duvet—” Seeing the grin on Geralt’s face, Jaskier breaks off, scowling. “I cannot believe I married you.”

“Hm. Jask, we’re not married.”

Ah, right. They’ve been together so long, Jaskier forgets that sometimes. Their friends and family are always complaining that they act like an old married couple anyway. “And if you keep putting drowner heads in the fridge, we won’t be!”

Geralt comes to press a kiss to Jaskier’s forehead. “Go take a shower and I’ll make coffee and deal with the drowner.”

“You’ll make the coffee before you touch drowner brains, right? Avoid cross-contamination?”

“Drowner brains are good for you. Protein.”

Jaskier huffs and turns on his heel to leave the kitchen. “I want a divorce.”

“Again, not married.”

Jaskier starts up the stairs, calling over his shoulder, “Then we should get married just so I can divorce you.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!” Jaskier makes it to the top of the stairs, then pauses, registering what they just said, and turns around. “Geralt?”

From downstairs, there’s the rumble of Geralt’s answering hum. “Hm?”

“Did we just get engaged?”

“I think that’s traditionally what comes before marriage and divorce.”

Jaskier hurries back down the stairs so fast that he nearly trips over his own two feet. He finds Geralt standing right where he left him in front of the fridge. “Do you really want to get married?”

Geralt looks at him like he’s started singing in gnomish. “Sure.”

“Sure?” Jaskier lets out an exasperated laugh. “Geralt, my love, this is one of those things where I’m going to need an unequivocal yes or no from you.”

Geralt leans against the front of the fridge, frowning slightly. “I never thought you wanted to get married.”

“What?” Jaskier is bewildered. “When did I say that?”

“Back when you were dating Vespula.”

“Geralt, I was twenty-two when I dated Vespula! That was nearly a decade ago! Of course I didn’t want to get married.” Jaskier throws his arms around Geralt’s neck. “I never thought you wanted to get married. All that witchers walk alone bullshit.”

Geralt’s lips twitch. “I think that ship has sailed by now, Jask. I think it sailed about five minutes after we met.”

“Well yes, probably,” Jaskier says. “So, Geralt, will you marry me?”

“Seems like a lot of trouble to go through just so you can divorce me over drowner brains.”

“Darling, you should know by now that it’s going to take more than drowner brains to get rid of me. I told you when we first moved in together and I’ll tell you now, you’re stuck with me.”

“Romantic.”

“You know you love it.”

Geralt’s eyes crinkle as he smiles, pressing a kiss to the tip of Jaskier’s nose. “Yes, I’ll marry you.”

The few times Jaskier has pictured proposing to Geralt, he’s imagined grand gestures: singing a love song in front of a crowded stadium of fans, holding a sign as he jumped out a plane, a moonlight boat ride and a four-string quartet. But standing with Geralt in the kitchen, still in his boxers with a drowner’s head in their fridge, somehow feels more right than any of those fantasies.

They just hold each other for a moment before Jaskier pulls away. “Want to go get breakfast to celebrate?”

Geralt’s eyes are soft with fondness as he watches him. “Did you propose just for an excuse to go get pancakes and mimosas?”

“Like I need an excuse to get pancakes and mimosas.” Jaskier is smiling stupidly. “Let me go get showered. I can be ready in twenty minutes.”

“See you in an hour.” 

“Har.” Jaskier turns and hurries up the steps. In the bathroom, he draws back the shower curtain, slapping a hand over his mouth to stifle his shriek at what he finds inside. “Geralt!”

“What?” Geralt calls from downstairs.

“What the fuck is in our shower?”

“Oh,” Geralt says. “That’s the rest of the drowner.”

“Excellent. Just so you know, I’ve changed my mind about that divorce!”

***

Tag list: @kueble @mollymawkwrites @feral-jaskier @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @dawnofbards @thisislisa @tsukiwolf42 @mosaicscale @rockysstupidity @fontegagrilledcheese @kuripon @help-i-need-a-cool-username @julek @flowercrown-bard @eveljerome

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #ghost's writing #prompt fills

[thewitcheress2389]

Hi there 🙋🏻‍♀️. I just saw your touch starved fic and it literally melted my heart. If you feel like it, I'd like to request one with Netflix Geralt where the reader is a fierce warrior who's too stubborn to admit she's sick, until she faints one day. He takes care of her and doesn't let her get out of bed until she's recovered. I was thinking your 219 and 230 prompts. Thank you 💐

Thank you!🥰 Sure thing!

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Stubborn as a Mule

It’s rather hard for you to accept help from others, especially when you’re sick.

#219 "I won't let you do this alone."

#230 "You're overworking yourself... Please take a break."

You were a warrior. A fierce one at that. One that both man and monster feared alike. However, you weren’t a witcher. You didn’t carry two swords on your back, didn’t pity yourself with villager’s contracts, and you went through no mutations.

Just one badass woman.

However, you’ve learned from experience that it’s important to have something made of silver on you. So, you carried a steel sword on your waist and a silver dagger to match. This was just something you learned from your witcher companion.

Geralt of Rivia.

You met the witcher by accident at a tavern. Sometimes but not always, you do hunt a monster for coin. He overheard that you were going to hunt a wyvern, practically told you not to be an idiot, and came with you.

Let’s be honest, he wanted a share of the profit.

But anyway, that’s where he learned of your stubbornness. Not only that, but he started to realize that your companionship was nearly as bothersome as Jaskier’s. Still, there was some softness in his heart (that he would never admit), and he wasn’t about to let a woman get hurt because of your lack of knowledge.

That’s why he stuck around, much to your annoyance.

No matter the irritation between the two of you, there was still some sort of friendship that was there. Perhaps it was mutual respect for strong warriors, but who knows. This is why he gave you some tips on how to fight monsters. While you acted like you didn’t want the help, he saw you practicing from time to time.

But then you fell ill, Geralt could sense it. 

He was then introduced to a more stubborn version of you than ever before.

You guys were stopping to rest for the evening, and Geralt was giving his beloved Roach some much needed grooming. The witcher didn’t need to look over his shoulder to hear the sword of your blade slicing nothing. However, he could also hear your ragged breath, and smell the extensive amount of sweat on your body.

Even he knew this had to stop.

“Y/N, you need to stop.” Geralt said without turning around. He heard your blade stop moving as you panted to catch your breath.

“Just...Just mind your horse.” You growled back, stumbling a little as a wave of dizziness overcame you. Geralt sighed at your retort but did as you said. Roach shook her head, causing her mane to fly about and make her witcher step back.

It was as if she was telling him to help you, no matter what.

“I get it. I get it, Roach.” He said while patting the mare’s neck and looking over in your direction. You looked worse than you sounded, pale and shaky. But you were more stubborn than a mule when it came to accepting any form of help.

Still, he had to try.

Marching over to you, he quickly moved to grab at the hilt of your sword, preventing you from doing a downward strike. Slowly, your eyes moved to glare at him. Geralt met your annoyed stare with his icy amber eyes.

"You're overworking yourself... Please take a break." Geralt said to you as you ripped your sword out of his grip.

“I’m fine.” You forced yourself to say after regaining your footing.

“You’re sick.” Geralt retorted, watching as you went back to training. 

“No. I’m not. Just...mind your own business.” You said, not being able to come up with a better excuse.

“You being sick is my business.” He brought up again, watching you intently with his cat-like eyes. You shot him another glare, but your irritation just added more stress to your already weakened body.

You felt very light-headed.

“I’m...not...sick...” Your voice trailed off as your body finally gave in to its state. Luckily, Geralt was quick to catch you as your sword clanged loudly on the ground.

“Stubborn as always...” Geralt said with a shake of his head as he took your small body into his arms and moved to place you on one of the bedrolls. Now unconscious, you were a lot easier to tend to. The witcher was able to get some water from a nearby stream to help cool your fever.

He was no doctor, but he figured he was doing something right.

As night began to fall, Geralt was cooking some small game over a fire, waiting for you to wake up. It didn’t take long for his sensitive ears to pick up your movements. Looking up, he saw you slowly sitting up and removing the wet rag from your head.

“Okay...maybe I’m sick...” You admitted with a sigh, causing Geralt to smile a bit.

“That’s better.” He praised you, causing you to pout slightly. He then moves over to offer you a bit of food, which you hesitantly accepted.

“You know, sometimes it’s easier to accept help than to deal with things by yourself.” Geralt told you, and you sighed, looking past him and at the fire.

“I guess I’m just used to handling things on my own.” You told him quietly, but then he just smiled before nodding in understanding. He’s been there, having to do things on his own. As much as he acted like he enjoyed it, it was all an act.

The witcher did get lonely sometimes.

So, he was finally glad that you opened up to him a little bit instead of shutting him out. It was a start, but Geralt was determined to crack past that wall of yours, even if he knows he would act just like you if the roles were reversed.

But as he was thinking, he saw you moving to get up.

"I won't let you do this alone." Geralt said sternly, grabbing onto your shoulders to practically push you onto the bedroll. You huffed in annoyance, but you couldn’t hide the trace of a smile that was on your lips.

“Thanks...” You whispered it more to yourself, but Geralt still heard it. As you laid back down on the bed, Geralt reapplied the wet rag to your forehead to calm the fever.

Again, you were only human, meaning you weren’t going to recover as fast as he would.

But the witcher didn’t care if he had to wait days here with you as you healed. He was going to be your nurse, taking care of you, until you were all better and ready to butt heads with him some more.

Geralt could only hope that this brings you a little closer to him.

When you finally did recover, he was shocked to find that Roach was looking tidier than ever. Someone brushed her mane, tail, and even gave her a little bath.

“I was bored...and I couldn’t stand seeing your horse so dirty.” You told him one morning as you threw his things at him. You woke up healthy, no longer sick, and way before him.

The way you worded this seemed like it was an insult at him, but Geralt looked past your stubborn and fierce facade to see the truth.

This was your way of thanking him for being by your side.

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