#this bard is so me and so not me and i will protect him till the end of time
You Hurt The Bard ?? You HURT The Precious Dandelion ??? Oh ! OH ! JAIL For Netflix !!! JAIL For Netflix For 1000 Years !!!
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when you suddenly stop visiting them
Genshin Impact x GN Reader
Featuring; Xiao, Diluc, & Venti
pardon me for some partial errors, it's 12 in the morning and i am on xiao brainrot
Xiao wouldn't think much of it at first, a part of him sighed in relief when you didn't show up at the balcony to start talking his ear off like usual. He very much did enjoy the temporary quiet.
You'll be back the next day, so he should savor this moment of solitude.
That was what he had repeated to himself until you didn't show up the day after that, and another day after that, and another day after the day after that. The adepti had grown impatient. Was he not suppose to feel happy about no one bothering him anymore? yet here he was growing anxious pacing back and forth wondering where in the world you had been for the past four days.
Even Verr had noticed how nervous his demeanor had been ever since you stopped visiting the inn, some could say four days isn't at all too long but his anxiety had sky rocketed from that short amount of time.
Where in the world could you have gone? thoughts of the possible horrible things that could have happened to you had only been swarming his thoughts. The thought of you possibly being dead scared him. He fought the urge to get up and start looking for you himself.
He himself didn't know why he was reacting like this, but tried to convince himself that the sense of duty to come and protect you was only because of his contract to protect the people of liyue. right?
But he was sure you were fine, you were fully capable of protecting yourself and he did not once doubt your abilities. Although he wouldn't be bothered at all if you'd decide to rely on him.
The nervous feeling in his stomach only grew for each passing time, he had even started to roam around the entrance of wang shu inn just incase you were to come.
Getting lost in the feeling of worry, he grew unaware of the creeping presence behind him.
Cold hands had covered his eyes from behind, and in an instinct he had thrown whoever the being was over his shoulder and pointed his spear at who had ever dared to lay a hand on him.
The adepti's eyes had widened at the sight of you on the ground rubbing your cheek, and almost immediately, an arm had enveloped you into a hug.
"wh- huh? a-ah.. nice to see you again too xiao" You awkwardly chuckled, not knowing where to put your hands in the position you were in you had settled on rubbing circles onto his back.
Xiao quickly parted from the hug and firmly held your shoulders, the half-hearted glare that was sent to you was merely brushed off by a light chuckle.
"Where have you been?" visibly wincing from his tone, the male slightly loosens his grip.
"O-oh sorry about not visiting ehe.. i was caught up with extra commissions and all that.."
From your reply, Xiao took a shaky breath that you of course didn't miss. Your eyes softened at this, honestly he hadn't know why your absence had bothered him this much.
Taking a hold of his hand you smiled at him "Sorry about not notifying you before hand and worrying you Xiao. i'll be sure to tell you next time."
Staring at you for awhile with a dazed expression, he quickly retracted his hands and scoffed at you. Quickly turning around in attempts of hiding the pink hue that had made its way on to his cheeks.
"Bold of you to assume i was worried about you. A-anyways, i have my duties to attend to, i do expect to see you at our usual spot."
You were one of the familiar faces that would often visit the tavern, and surprisingly enough had done the minimal to gain his interest. Diluc had found out that you never did come to drink alcohol (strangely enough) but had taken a liking to the apple juice that they sold.
He kept a mental note about the times you would usually visit, and made sure he was the one to be at the counter. Enjoying the small conversations you both would have.
Which is why the man was perplexed when you hadn't come today.
However, Diluc wasn't one to make a fuss and jump into conclusions. So he had come to assume that you were probably just too busy or got held up with your duties being the director of the cathedral. He'd get the chance to talk to you the next time you pay a visit, which was about a day or two from now.
But alas you still hadn't come to show. At the end of the day he closed his shop in a bit of a glum, where were you? he had to admit that he had grown worry some. Perhaps he should ask one of the knights of your where abouts despite his distaste for them, then again he didn't really have a good reason to see you.
The man was organizing his wine bottles lost in thought, not until the tavern doors burst open.
There stood a panting blonde traveler, a green bard, a floating mascot, but most importantly you.
"Direct us to the least suspicious table if you would please!" The green one announced. Diluc would've swatted them away if he wanted to, but seeing as you were associated with them he decided against it. You felt him eyeing you suspiciously as you could only look down in hopes of him not recognizing you. Which was already very much unlikely.
"Huh? i guess people rarely go upstairs.. but wouldn't a bard prefer to be somewhere more noticeable?"
"Ehe great thank you good bye~!" The three quickly dashed to the second floor, Diluc could only sigh at being brushed off, but before you could run off to follow the three he quickly took a hold of your wrist and pulled you behind the counter.
Ah. He recognized you. Of course he'd recognize you.
"ahEhehaha- hello Diluc uhm you see-"
"Those three are suspicious, care to explain why you're tagging along with them?"
"Well you see-" The door slammed open as knights entered abruptly, Diluc had quickly shoved you under the counter before you were caught. Silently thanking him in your head, you kept quiet.
"Ah Master Diluc! have you seen three theives around?"
"What happened? why have you mobilized so many guards?"
"Haven't you heard Master Diluc? Three thieves were trying to steal the Holy Lyre"
Hearing this, Diluc discreetly eyed you from under the counter, a sweat dropped from your forehead with two of your hands clasped on your mouth as to not break your cover.
"Oh? how odd"
You tuned out the rest of their conversation, mostly trying to think of a way to explain how you had been caught up in this mess of a situation. Perhaps you could've avoided this mess if the green bard had decided to let you know of the plan before initiating it.
Getting lost in your head while cussing out the bard, you didn't realize it when the knights had left.
"Hm, today i think i'll have a glass of.."
"You can put down the bottle you stole from behind the counter, and [name] you can come out now."
Seeing you crawl out of your hiding place in embarrassment, he couldn't help but heave a sigh. He had been entangled in to another situation with the knights of favonious, but hey. He gets to see you, so that's a win.
Venti would often have performances at the statue by the cathedral, he was quiet the well known bard with a decent amount of people stopping by to listen to his captivating voice.
And among the crowd of people he'd always recognize familiar faces, more specifically you.
After his performance he'd always stop you to have a fun little chat, and soon enough you both had become somewhat good friends. You had never missed a single one of what he liked to call 'concerts' and he on the other hand would sometimes dedicate a song to you.
He was confused when he hadn't seen you among the crowd of people who had come to watch him perform.
Feeling disheartened at your absence, the bard cut his performance short to look for you. With a few disappointed groans of course but he could care less right now. Unlike some others, he isn't the type to wait awhile.
The bard would go around town asking people about your where abouts, only to be disappointed each time they'd say they haven't seen you all day either.
A day had passed and he started to grow even more worry some, had something bad happened to you? He looked all around mondstat but still couldn't catch wind of you.
Ah if only he had asked you for where you lived, maybe then he'd be able to see if you were home or not. Come to think of it, he should try asking one of the knights for your home address. But then again, he doubted that they'd easily disclose information like that.
With another day of being unable to find you, his anxiety only grew. Trying to stay positive and telling himself that you'd be okay and just fine wasn't at all working anymore, he felt himself about to have a full blown mental breakdown.
His crest fallen face was directed onto the ground, he felt nothing but worry and distress. What could have happened to you? and was it something he could prevent? He's already asked the traveler to keep an eye out for you, though he still has heard no word of you.
"oh im sorry-"
He paused realizing that the person who he had bumped into was you, you looked pale and had a mask to cover your face. The bard couldn't help but leap into your arms and give you a tight hug. Only to feel dejected after you pushed him away.
"*cough* ah venti, im sorry i-i've been bedridden for the last few days" Your voice was raspy from your cold, yet he still beamed at the sight of you. Oh thank celestia that you were fine. He blinked away the tears that had formed from the corner of his eyes.
"A-ah! wait you should get to bed then what're you doing out here!"
"i had to go get some ingredients for soup *cough* i-its fine"
He furrowed his eyebrows at this and quickly snatched away the bag of goods from your arm "Hey! what are you-"
"I'll be taking care of you till you feel better then! come now lead the way to your abode!"
You could only sigh and succumb in agreement, having someone to take care of you while you have a cold could be your best bet.
"Great! now watch as my lyre strums your cold away!"
If you couldn't already tell, the quality deteriorated as i got to the end and imsorryforthat. but it's like 12am in the morning and im kinda tired. im on my daily xiao brainrot so yes. i will be posting alot from this man <3
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t/w: non graphic description of injury
The first time Jaskier gets hurt, protecting Geralt, the Witcher is too shocked to even speak. He kills off the rest of the mercenaries in a fit of rage and rushes to the bard's side.
The arrow pierced him right in between two ribs, but the wound, thank the gods, isn't deep. Jaskier's breathing is heavy, his eyes wide and scared. He sneakes a look at his now bloody undershirt.
"Don’t look." Geralt advises him, as he begins treating the wound. It's probably for the best that Jaskier loses consciousness a few moments later.
Jaskier wakes up feeling warm. He rolls onto his side, immediately regretting doing so, because of the jabbing pain in his ribs. Slowly catching his breath, Jaskier’s eyes trail down to look at his own abdomen. There's a bandage wrapped around his chest. The pain is still there, but it's dull.
It takes Jaskier a moment to realize that he is in fact, outside. He is wrapped up in a bunch of blankets and he's lying ontop what seems to be two bedrolls and Geralt’s cloak. And there's the delicious smell of food-
"You're awake." Geralt grunts, standing up from his place beside the campfire. "Thought you'll be out till dawn". He walks over to where Jaskier is lying and kneels down beside him, handing him a bowl of stew. "Eat".
Jaskier obeys. Sitting up turns out to be quite the challenge, but once he gets through that, he manages to eat.
Geralt is still sitting beside him, his expression grim.
"What?" Jaskier finally asks, starting to feel irritated. He's the one who got an arrow between his ribs, for Gods' sake.
Geralt lets out a small sigh. "What you did back there was very stupid. Don't do that again".
Jaskier stares at him in disbelief. "Oh," He blinks twice. "Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't know that saving your life is considered stupid".
Geralt turned to glare at him. "You could've gotten killed" He growled. "You almost did".
"Almost." Jaskier emphasized, crossing and uncrossong his arms with a slight wince. "I saved your ass, Witcher. You didn't see that archer. If I haven't jumped on you, he'd hit you straight in the heart. Where's my "thank you"?".
Geralt kept glaring at him. "...Why'd you do it?".
Jaskier blinked. "What?"
Geralt groaned quietly, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Why'd you risk your life for me?".
Jaskier stared at him as if he just asked him the dumbest of questions. "...Because you're my friend? What kind of question is that?".
"I don't have friends".
Jaskier sighed, giving Geralt a tired smile. "That's not true. You have me. And I'll always try to keep you safe. I know you'd do the same for me".
"Not at all".
"You're a bard".
Jaskier smiled, giving Geralt a wink. "You say it like it doesn't mean anything. To remind you, I did save a Witcher’s life today".
"I'll take that as a "thank you". Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lie down".
Geralt didn’t move away from his place, as Jaskier was trying to fall asleep. After a while, Jaskier felt Geralt lying down behind him and curling up against his back.
Maybe it was just his imagination, but he felt someone nuzzling his shoulder, followed by a soft whisper of "you're an idiot, jask. thank you".
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The Bards Sister Geralt XFemale!Reader Part 1
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
Summary: Geralt of Rivia and his long time travel companion Jaskier find themselves in Jaskiers home land. A place geralt had not only never seen nor heard of. Jaskier is ready to reunite its his family after traveling and exploring the world for 20 years. The one person he missed the most was his baby sister (Y/N). Who he hadnt seen since she was 5. The journal is long, but the pay off is grander then they would ever be able to predict. I know i am trash at summaries.
Trigger warnings: NONE a lot of Geralt and Jaskier in this first part. Your charicter doesn’t come in till closer to the end.
Pairings: GeraltxReader JaskierxSister!reader
Word count: 6,095 longest fanfic I’ve ever written!!
A/N: hello my loves!!! I got my Insperation back!! I’m hopping i will be regularly posting agin!!! I ove you all so much you consistent love and supoort has not gone unnoticed. The constant likes and reblogs truly means the world to me. I love every single one of you so much. Thank you for believing in my writing the way you do. All my love -Lilith ps. I have reviewed and edited but I will be doing a more in-depth review soon!
“Where are we going, Jaskier.” The Witcher’s brooding voice echoed threw the flowered valley. His horse trotted not far behind his companion. Jaskier looked back at him and just rolled his eyes.
“How many times have you led me on endless roads, towards the middle of nowhere speaking little to no words to me no matter how much I ask?” Geralt said nothing. Jaskier snorted looking back towards the road.
“Exactly. No shut up, your brooding is giving me a headache.” The bard was giving the witcher a taste of his own medicine. The idea that Jaskier was leading him to somewhere he had no idea of the location, made him uneasy. Did he trust his bard? Absolutely without a doubt. Would he ever admit it to him? No never.
Their travels continued till the sun was barely hanging in the sky. The air had grown crisp replacing the harsh burning of the full summer sun. Jaskier pulled his mare to the side of the road, climbing off her, tying her to a tree. Geralt followed, realizing they were stopping for the day.
“We still have a couple hours of daylight left.” Geralt said as he took Roach’s saddle and tack off.
“We don't need a couple hours, we are nearly there. Maybe an hour and half.” Geralt cocked an eyebrow at Jaskier.
“Then why did we stop?” Jaskier pulled his saddle bags off his horse, putting them beside a log as he gathered some sticks for the fire.
“Because I have to debrief you as to who we are going to see and you must bathe before we do so. The stream here will do the trick.”
“Gods Jaskier, will you just tell me where we are going? The secrecy is bullshit.” The broot of a man was losing his patience with his friend.
The duo had been on the trip for nearly two weeks. They left Tramieria and headed east. Much further east than Geralt could ever remember traveling. Yet the bard seemed to know exactly what turns to take and when. The closer they drew to their destination the more the witcher could hear his heart beat faster.
“Jaskier if this is some stupid plot for me to protect you from some man who’s wife you slept with again-“
“It's not Geralt-“ Jaskier pinched the bridge of his nose, his stress causing a minor headache. “Just go bathe then I’ll tell you everything.” Geralt studied his friend, his eyes searching his face, his ears tuning into his heart beat trying his best to figure out what he was getting himself into.
With a low grunt the witcher grabbed his last set of clean clothes and the bar of soap from the bard's hand before stomping off to the river.
“Clean EVERYTHING!” Jaskier yelled over his shoulder. Only getting an unfriendly finger in return.
Nearly an hour later, the sun was completely hidden behind the canyon, the glow of the fire Jaskier started illuminating their small camp. Jaskier’s fingers strummed mindlessly at his lute, his eyes fixed on the stars that were making their presence known more, humming to himself softly. He heard his friends footsteps as he approached, his hair was wet at his shoulders. A fresh white Cotton tunic hugged his muscular build, black trousers hugging his legs. He smiled nice for once. All thanks to the lavender and honey soap Jaskier had received as a gift.
“Now don't you look better.” Jaskier said with a chuckle. The witcher sat down across the fire from him, his golden eyes staring heavily at the bard.
“Spill your guts Jaskier.” Jaskier rubbed his hands over his face and nodded. His eyes looking anywhere but at his friend.
“I haven't been completely forward about my family life.” Jaskier’s eyes landed on the moon above them. It was nearly full, he was doing well with time. He knew they would reach their destination well before the next full moon.
“Jaskier.” Geralt’s harsh voice broke the silence. With a loud sigh Jaskier finally looked his friend in the face.
“I’m royalty Geralt.” The Witcher’s expression did not change. He just looked at his friend. He could hear Jaskier's heart beat become uneven and unsteady. At first he thought it was a joke but the nervous energy radiating from his long time friend made him think better.
“My family, they are wonderful people. My mother, bless her, taught me everything I needed to know about writing and music. Convinced my father to let me train at Oxenfurt Academy. My father is a noble and loyal king. He served our people well. Still does to my knowledge. I haven't been back in nearly 20 years…” the bard trailed off, his eyes fixated on his hands, his fingers twildilling with a ring he had on. The ring was that of his family. Their crest engraved into the gold.
“I was never meant to be a noble. I lived for adventure, for more than just sitting on a throne and watching people come and go. I was never fit to be king. My parents knew that. They understood. Understanding people they are.” His voice trailed off again, hopping his friend would say something. Ask a question. Anything. He didn’t know where to go next.
“Why didn't you ever tell me?” Geralt finally asked.
“Because it never came up. My family never needed me. I never needed them. I love them all dearly of course. But we were never the closest people in the world. Well, my sister and I were.” That caught the Witcher’s attention. His eyes narrow slightly, he made sure to not let his expression scare the bard into not telling him more. He was genuinely curious about his family. But he couldn't lie and say he wasn't disappointed that in the 7 years they traveled together he never heard of them.
“You have a sister?” The bard's eyes lit up. His memory raced with images of his tun little sister chasing him around the courtyard screaming, yelling his name. Her giggles and laughs pulling at his heart strings.
“Yes. Her name is (Y/N). She is about to be 25. Big age for a princess. I havnt seen her since she was very little.” His heart started to break softly. His neglect to his baby sitter weighting heavily on him.
“I write her often, as much as I can. She was...well, a surprise to my parents to say the least. I was 15 when she was born. I left home at 20. I was only around for her toddler years. I never got to see her grow, blossom into a young woman. I missed so much.” Jaskier had to fight back the tears, his throat becoming tight and dry. His body filling with regret.
“I just kept pushing it back Geralt. I alwasy said I’d make it home. I alwasy had it in the back of my mind to go back and see her. But I never did.”
“Why now?” Geralt asked.
“She wrote me a few months back. It was nearly a book. It was filled with tales of her new travels around our country. She had been training heavily with an unmanned matester of combat. She traveled the countryside with the man. She referred to him as an uncle. In the letter she asked me if it was true that I’d been traveling with you. She said the songs and tales of Jaskier the Bard traveling with the White Wolf made it to her ears.” Jaskier stopped talking for a brief moment, rummaged around his rut sack and pulled out a notebook. He untied its string and a large pile of papers fell out into his hand. He unfolded the parchment and scanned the writing.
“I wrote her back that week. Only to receive this in return.” He began to read;
“Oh dear Jaskier!! I cannot believe its true. I thought he was only a legend. The white wolf. Please tell him he is a hero here. We love his stories. Many have written books of him. Children run round calling themselves the butcher of Blaviken here to save the damsel and distress. I love his stories, mainly because they involve you. Please come visit me this year. I miss you terribly. I want to hear of your travels with the wolf. Mother said he is more than welcome to stay if he wishes to travel with you. I do miss you Jaskier. More than I think you know. I do not mean to guilt you or make you feel bad as i know you are traveling the world to your heart's content and would never want you to feel as though I do not support you-“ Jaskier stopped reading for a brief moment. A small tear dripped onto the page he was reading. Geralt listened to every word he read. He couldn't help the small tug of his lips when he read about the children pretending to be him. It was a breath of fresh air for the witcher. He had constantly been told he was a monster. To hid your children from him. Yet here was an entire country that loved him, yet he had no idea. Jaskier cleared his throat and continued. “But i miss my brother. And maybe, just maybe. I could come with you. If you deem me fit. I have been working tirelessly with a friend of fathers. He trains me in not only swordsmanship, but Herbology, and monsters as well. I can name nearly every monster that has inhabited the Continent and how to slay it. He thinks I’m ready to leave the nest and I think mother and father are getting a bit tired of me as well. I cannot stand another somber, dull, dinner party with nobles who look at me like a piece of meat. So please. Visit me soon. Come and stay a few days. Catch up with your dear sister and maybe, if he isn't too busy and if it doesn’t inconvenience him, bring the Wolf with you. He’d be a welcomed hero. All my love dear brother.
(Y/N) Irene Pankratz
Jaskier folded the letter, placing it inside his notebook before safely storing it inside his sack again. He ran a hand over his face, his eyes slowly moving from his hands to his best friend. They sat in the silence for a while. Geralt’s brain replaying the words he had heard from his friend.
“You could have told me about her Jaskier. Why didn't you? You’ve been in contact with her all this time, planning to see her and your family again. Bringing me along for the ride, yet not a single word in 7 years. Do you not trust me with such a secret Jaskier?” Jaskier was taken aback by his friend's words.
He never knew his secrecy would have such an impact on his friend. When it came to Geralt he learned long ago, the little words, the better. The witcher can only handle so much before he loses interest and stops listening or walks away. He never in a million years would have thought he cared about his life that much. It warmed the bards heart to know his dear friend, the only brother he ever had, cared that deeply for him.
“It has nothing to do with not trusting you Geralt. Is has everything to do with the shame I hold for not seeing her sooner. For treating her like a dirty secret form the world. There is no logical reason for me to keep my family such a big secret. Yet I have. For 20 years.” Geralt’s hands rubbed together softly as he listened to his friend. He understood the secrecy. He was a box full of secrets that nobody could get into.
“Its okay Jaskier. I understand the secrecy. Is that where we are going tomorrow?” Jaskier nodded, a smile appearing on his face.
“Her birthday is the next full moon. I’m hoping my gift will be a good start in time lost.” Geralt looked at him curiously. He hadn't noticed any major item in Jaskier’s possession that could make a good gift for a young princess.
“You’re her gift Geralt. I wrote her back after that letter and told her I’d be back for her next birthday. But that you simply were to busy with your work. I told her that you greatly appreciated her support and that youd consider writing to her in the future. She has no idea your coming with me.” Geralt didnt know how he felt about being a gift. He never ever saw himself as a gift to anyone. More of a burden the a gift. He shook his head at Jaskier and tutted at him.
“Jaskier if your that broke you could’ve asked me for a few extra coins for a real gift.” The witcher attempted to joke with the bard. It made Jaskier smile more. Geralt could be funny, but his humor was incredibly dry, much like Jaskier’s father.
“Geralt! Did you just try and joke around with me??” Geralt rolled his eyes, laying down stretching his muscles as he looked up at the starts.
“Best get some sleep Jaskier, you’ve got a rather big family reunion tomorrow.”
The next morning Jaskier was up and awake before Geralt, a rare sight. He truly hadn't slept more than a couple hours that night. His nerves kept him awake. He feared his sister wouldn’t be as loving as he pictured, she had every right to be mad at him, hate him even. By the time Geralt was up, Jaskier had bathed, changed and had his horse completely ready to go.
Geralt had to do everything in his power to not laugh at his friend. He looked rather ridiculous. His normal bright attire was replaced with a royals outfit. A green and blue velvet tunic and some extremely uncomfortable looking black trousers. His hair was combed back and his face was freshly washed. He even cleaned under his fingernails. He looked rather ridiculous in Geralt’s opinion. He couldn't help the low chuckle that left his lips as he put his bed roll away.
“I don't understand why you're laughing. I have some clothes for you to put on as well.” Geralt’s expression changed instantly, from humorous to angry.
“No. Absolutely not. What I’m wearing is perfectly fine. I’d wear it to meet any king or queen.” A bag was chucked at him, he barely caught it before it smacked into his face.
“This isn't any normal king and queen Geralt. This is my family. And besides, you are no ordinary witcher in my kingdom, you’ll be treated as royalty there. You may as well look the part.” Geralt huffed and threw the bag of clothes back at his friends feet, glaring daggers at him. He hated dressing up with a burning passion. Everything was too tight, not easy to fight in. If anything happened he’d have to rip the seams on every piece of clothing to be able to maneuver his weapons properly. And fancy clothes dont have space for weapons. He didn't like that one bit. Jaskier looked at his friend. His eyes pleading with him.
“Please Geralt. Just for today and her birthday. I couldn't care less what you wear at any other point on this trip.” He had walked closer to Geralt now. About a meter away from him. He extended his hand, the bag in his hand. Geralt looked from the bag to his friend. His teeth and jaw clenched.
He let out a loud huff and grabbed the bag from the bard.
“Fine.” He said through gritted teeth and began taking off his clothing. Jaskier smiled before turning his attention to Roach, getting her stalled and tacked so when Geralt was dressed they could leave.
“If we move with a bit of a haste we could make it there before breakfast.” Jaskier said as he mounted his horse, looking at his friend. His hand slapped over his face. The witcher looked utterly ridiculous in his new attire. The bright red and orange vest a-top a cream tunic, his legs tight in some disgustingly ugly corduroy pants. The pants were obviously smaller than the seamstress he bought them off claimed them to be. The ends of the pants came nearly mid calf on Geralt’s legs. His pasty white ankles and feet shining in the early morning sun.
“Jesus Geralt. Those are worse than the ones I got for Pavetta’s party.” The bard could no longer hold in his laughter. Did Gerarlt look like a nobleman? Sure, but his size, white hair, and bright yellow eyes really didn't help the situation.
“Jaskier, I will kill you for this.” Geralt grumbled angered as he pulled his socks up his feet and over his calves. Luckily for him (and Jaskier) his boots went higher than his pants, making it harder to notice that the pants he was wearing were way too small.
“At least I’m not making you wear a big hat with a feather, those are truly hideous.” Geralt mounted Roach, more carefully then he normally does in fear his pants could bust at the seams.
“I had to wrap you up nice and pretty to present you to my sister.” Jaskier commented as he led his horse; Napoleon to the main road, Geralt and Roach in tow.
The two men rode in a comfortable silence for some time, but as they got closer and closer to Jaskier’s home, all Geralt could hear was his frantic heartbeat. Jaskier’s palms get sweaty and his throat dry, no matter how much water he drinks from his water skin.
“Jaskier. You need to calm down. Your fucking heart beat is driving me insane.” Geralt hissed. They could see the end of the valley they had been traveling in. Geralt looked out in the distance, his eyes saw the castle first. It was very far, but he could tell how beautiful it was from where they were.
“Maybe you just shouldn’t listen to it then.” Jaskier barked back.
“You know I have no control over it, idiot. Take a deep breath. I know you're scared, I understand. But from the sounds of it your sister desperately misses you, I don't think she would ask you to come see her if she was going to hate you.” Geralt didn't talk much at all, that everyone knew. He was a man of few words. But when he did speak it was wiser than most people ever expected. People tended to forget the age of the white haired man, as he stopped ageing physically in his late twenties.
Jaskier smiled softly at his friend's words, he listened to him and took a few deep breaths, calling himself down. Geralt was right. His sister seemed eager as ever to see him again.
The two men approached the entrance to the city. Geralt was more than shocked. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen a city so beautiful in his entire life. The streets were lined in beautiful stone, flowers, vines, greenery all around every corner. The banners that were hanging on the outside of the main gates caught Geralt’s eyes. The crests on them were brightly colored in greens and blues, a very large diamond in the center. Their horses rode into the entrance of the town. Jaskier’s heart was calm, steady, his face was bright and had a smile Geralt had never seen on him before. He was finally home.
“Welcome to Inritha (In-Rithe-A) the capital of Unthya (Un-The-A) Geralt. Welcome to my home.”
Their horses traveled down the stone brick road slowly, the city was buzzing already even with it being the early hours of the morning. Geralt was surprised to see everyone look so...happy, care free. Enjoying their lives. They looked as though nothing was a fret, no monster looming. Geralt was mesmerized by the city. The buildings were built out of what looked to him like limestone, a building material he so rarely saw in other parts of the Continent. The buildings were being taken over by vines and moss, flowers all over. He’d never seen so many butterflies in his life.
“Jaskier-'' his voice was barely a whisper, the bard turning to look at him as they rode side by side. Jaskier couldn't help but smile as his friend admired the beauty he himself had so easily forgotten over the years.
“I know, it's beautiful. I've forgotten myself.”
The two men continued riding their horses up the road closer and closer to the castle. The longer they road tho more attention they got from passer buys. Geralt could hear their whispers.
It couldn't be. Could it?
THE Geralt of Rivia? Here in Inritha?
Mummy look! It's the butcher!!
Has Prince Jaskier finally returned home?
For the first time in what seemed like his entire life, the hushed whispers Geralt heard as he rode through a city were not of hate and disgust. But of admiration and curiosity. The entire time Geralt and Jaskier rode through the city, he never once had the urge to grab either of his swords that were at his side.
The two men approached the gates of the castle, four armored guards stood outside. The put their hand up in motion for the men to stop. One who looked as tho to be the commander of sorts stepped forward poking between both men. Eyes lingering for a long while on the two.
“State your name and what business you have in Inritha at this early hour.” Jaskier dismounted his horse, waking a few feet forward.
“My name is Jaskier Alfred Pankratz son of Dastrill and Alvere Pankratz. This is my companion Geralt Of Rivia, we are here on behalf of my sister, (Y/N) Irene Pankratz’s 25th birthday.” Jaskier bowed his head lowly, keeping eye contact with the commander in front of him.
“Prince Jaskier?!?” The man clearly looked flustered and embarrassed for not recognizing the prince of his own kingdom. All four men quickly bowed their heads.
“Please accept my apology your highness, we welcome you home. As do we welcome your honored guest.” Jaskier smiled and told the men to not trouble themselves with an apology. Geralt continued to watch from atop Roach, still not use to being idolized instead of feared. Honored guest. Geralt thought to himself. He could get use to the new treatment. Jaskier remounted Napoleon the gates to the castle walls opening. The both road threw, all four men bowed their heads as the two walked threw. Not once did they threaten Geralt’s life. They were led by a guard to the stables where they left their horses.
Geralt could hear Jaskier heart beating again in his chest as they were led inside the castle. Geralt tried to concentrate on his friend, to be there for him but he couldn't help but let his eyes wander all over the castle's walls, it was a bright exterior. The walls polished, candles everywhere. Large windows allowing for natural lighting. Nothing dark or gloomy about the castle at all. He felt uplifted..cheary almost. As they neared the entrance to the grand hall where the King, Queen, Princess along with some others were. Geralt could hear the light conversation, and the clicking of silver on plates, they were eating breakfast. But he could still hear Jaskier’s heart beating in his chest. Geralt placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder as they walked, giving it a soft squeeze. The action made Jaskier more worried if the witcher was feeling alright, as it was abnormally out of character for the man. But he said nothing, appreciating the gesture.
They got to the door and just as the guard was about to push the doors open Jaskier grabbed his arm.
“Could we maybe skip the loud over dramatic announcements of my arrival? I have not seen my family in years.” The guard only nodded, bowed his head and walked back outside to his post. Jaskier looked over at his friend, as he put his hand on the door ready to push it open.
“Now or never.” Jaskier said as he opened the door. Both men walked into the large room, the talking stopped almost instantly. Geralt stood at the door, not wanting to impose on the important reunion of his friend and his family. He followed Jaskiers gaze to the table ahead of them in the front of the room. The room was lined with huge floor to ceiling windows, the light of the early morning sun shone brightly making the marble floors glisten.
“JASKIER!!!” The loud scream of a girl nearly made Geralt jump out of his skin, his hand reaching back for a sword that wasn't there in instinct.
It made Jaskier jump but the smile that covered his face was even bigger than the one he had seen as he walked through the city. Geralt followed Jaskier’s gaze to a young woman. The sight of her alone made Geralt want to pass out. He wasn't sure if he had ever seen someone so beautiful in his entire life. Her hair was the same chestnut brown that Jaskier had, but it was long, hip length. She had it pulled back slightly out of her face, a few baby hairs framed her face. Oh her face. Geralt thought as though he was looking at a living breathing angel. He heard her chair scrape roughly on the ground before it loudly crashed on the floor. She raced around the long table from her mothers side and sprinted to her brother. She practically threw herself on him. Her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. He quickly wrapped his arms around her, stumbling back a few steps. Everything was quite as the two embraced. Geralt's eyes went to the king and queen who were now standing. The queen looked just like (Y/N) but her hair was black, long stripes of grey peeking through her hair. The crown atop her head glistened in the light. Her right hand was tightly around her husband's arm, her other hand placed softly over her mouth as she looked at her children. Her husband looked much like Jaskier. His hair was the same color as both of their children, but much like his wife’s, much of it had turned grey. His eyes were the same cornflower blue that Jaskier had.
Minutes passed in silence before Jaskier put his hands on his sisters shoulders, pulling her away from him. He put one hand on her cheek as he examined her features. Her pale cheeks were damp with tears. But not sad tears. Tears of joy.
“My sister, how you’ve grown.” Geralt could hear the tears in the bard's voice. He couldn't see him but he could hear everything.
(Y/N) fingers gently brushed over her brother’s face as she smiled at him.
“My brother, how you haven't aged a day. You look just as I remember you. Maybe a few more wrinkles.” She teased. He laughed softly. Wiping his eyes with his hand before pulling her into another bone crushing embrace. She was much shorter than Jaskier, barely shoulder level with him. Geralt was shocked to remember she would be turning 25 in two days. She was still young in the face, beautiful. He wanted nothing more than to see her more up close.
While the siblings spoke their parents moved from the spots at the table, standing behind (Y/N). Alvere was the first to pull him into a tight embrace after her daughter let go. Her fingers gently combed through his hair as she inhaled his scent deeply.
“My dear son how I've missed you.” She whispers slowly into his ear. Geralt was starting to feel bad for eavesdropping. Not that he could help it. He was still standing at the entrance to the grand hall yet he could hear everything.
Jaskiers father hugged him next, it was not nearly as long as the outer two but both men were okay with it. Understanding that their relationship had never been one for long father son hugs.
“It is good to see you again my boy.” His hand clasped down on his son's shoulder.
The four of them stood close together, smiling more than Geralt ever thought possible. It almost made his heart turn. Deep, deep, deep, down the witcher longed for a family that would look at him the way they looked at Jaskier. He often cured the universe for not giving him an option when it came to what he had become. He clung to the few memories he had of his mother. But as years passed they became harder and harder to remember, more painful. But he had. Made a new sort of family over the years. From Jaskier, to his brothers at Kaer Morhen.
“(Y/N), mum, dad, there is someone I’d like you to meet.” Jaskier turned his head towards the door to the hall. Geralt stood tall, shoulders pressed back, his hair framed his face gracefully. Even in the entirely ugly attire he was in, he made himself as presentable and as proper as possible. (Y/N)’s eyes grew bigger when her eyes met his. He once again was taken aback by her beauty. Her eyes were a powerful emerald green matching similarly to the color of her brother's tunic, but brighter. Her mouth fell slightly agape when she realized who it was. The eyes were a dead give away that he was in fact a witcher, but once she saw the silver medallion that rested on his chest, she knew.
Jaskier nodded his head for Geralt to walk forward and he did, his footsteps were light, his pace slow and steady as he walked closer to the royal family. (Y/N)’s hand gently covered her mouth in excitement. Her eyes flickering to her brother who grinned at her.
“A bit of an early birthday gift.” He winked. Once Geralt was closer to the group Jaskier turned so he could introduce them, at his sister's side. All eyes were on him. Even the few people who were still seated at the table were looking at him. He started to feel a bit more uneasy. He started to remember how far away his swords were if he needed them. This alone was beginning to make him panic. He was not used to being welcomed into royal courts unless it was specifically for a hunt.
“This is Geralt of Rivia, one of the most feared, renowned, and skilled Witcher’s the content has to offer. And also my best friend.”
Geralt's eyes were back on (Y/N)’s, his worries dropped more when she smiled brightly at him. Her eyes gleamed.
Geralt bowed his head to the three of them, “ it is an absolute pleasure to meet you, your highnesses.” (Y/N) was nearly blown over by the sultry sound of his voice. She had only heard stories of the witcher. Never see him for herself and definitely had never heard him speak. She never expected a monster hunter to be as handsome as he was. She admired every feature he had. Her eyes fixating on his chiseled jawline, the light gray stubble across his chin and cheeks.
“My, what a pleasure it is to meet such a famed warrior as yourself Geralt!” The king spoke before (Y/N) could, which she was happy about as she did not trust her voice to not waver at his beauty in that moment.
“You my dear are very popular around here. Your stories are legendary. The school children even host yearly plays, Reenacting your most beloved stories.” (Y/N)’s mother added her finger pointing light hardly at Geralt. Her hand came out gracefully from her side to shake the Witcher’s hand. He gently took it, a small smile pulling at the corners of his lips. His attention returned to (Y/N).
“I’m terribly sorry I’m the birthday gift from your brother this year.” She shook her head almost as soon as the words left his mouth.
“Do not be sorry Geralt-'' the way she said his name made him feel as though he could keel over. “I would like to thank you, for protecting my brother for the years you have. He never skips on his gratitude for you in his letter to me. For that we are all eternally grateful for you.” She reached her hand out. Geralt wasted no time in grabbing her hand, shaking it gently. He was dying inside, but he couldn't let her or anyone else see. He took a gentle step towards her, his head lowering softly, his soft lips were placed on the back of her small hand. The small action made the young girls' faces burn red. Her eyes flicked to her brother who smugly smiled, knowing danm well his gift was going to take the cake.
“Well, you both should come join us, we just started eating.” The king said with a smile, with a quick wave of his hand two more places we set.
(Y/N) gently removed her hand from Geralt’s. Walking towards the table, both men in tow. As she reached her spot she moved her plate and glass to the middle seat that had been prepared, leaving Jaskier a seat next to their mother and Geralt a seat next to her. They all sat and waited as food was served to them. (Y/N) could feel Geralt watching her as she ate, her brother deep in conversation with her parents about his most recent travels. But she wasnt listening. Her attention was only on the man seated to her left. She looked over at the man, eyed him up and down then turned to her brother. For the first time she noticed how ugly their attire was.
“Gods Jaskier who dressed you two?” She asked as she sipped her orange juice. Both men looked at her. Jaskier looked a bit hurt and Geralt only snorted.
“I told him the clothes were horrendous.” Geralt said beside the young woman making her giggle. The sound made his heart beat faster. This was also when he realized how sensibly everyone else in the room was dressed, and how much they stood out. (Y/N) was in a thin white cotton dress, it was around knee length and a light sweater was on her shoulders. Her mother and father dressed similarly. Their clothes looking normal, comfortable.
“Oh my dear brother. What have you done to the poor witcher.” She laughed, turning her attention to him. She could see how uncomfortable the clothes made him. The vest was way too tight and he was practically bursting out of his pants, not that she minded, she gladly enjoyed the view.
“He is torturing me. That's what.” Geralt scoffed and she couldn't help but giggle again.
“You're so dramatic Geralt it's truly not that bad.” Her head flicked to her brother.
“Jaskier don't be rude.” She tutted him like a mother, it made Geralt snort under his breath as he took a bite of his eggs. She stood and walked behind him. He was stiff at her movements.
“Do you mind?” Her fingers were on the strings of the vest. He shook his head no and she quickly untied the tight strings, and it fell from his shoulders. She took it off and handed it to one of the maids
“You can burn that horridly ugly thing.” She said as she sat back down.
“I do not remember you being so rude, little sister.” Jaskier quipped.
“What I think is rude is how you made sure you got the more presentable clothing and dressed your poor friend in those horrendous colors. Have you seen his pants, Jaskier?? It's a miracle he can still breath.” Her eyes looked towards the witcher who was already looking at her with a cocky smirk on his face, glad she was putting Jaskier in his place for the ugly outfit choice.
“I can take you to the seamstress later today, if you’d like Geralt.” Her smile was like a drug.
“I’d appreciate that m'lady.” He said softly.
“And I can show you around the city, both of you. But in return I would like to hear some of your stories, first hand if that’s doable.”
“That sounds like a reasonable trade.” Geralt quipped back.
“Then it's a date, Witcher.”
“A date it is.”
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Sort of a prompt I guess? I think it would be funny if geralt and jaskier got married in by accident (fairy married or something like that maybe?) and don't know how to or can't undo it so they just decide to go along with it till they can and by then they relize they don't want to? I don't know what do you think
fuck yeah. I love accidental marriage aus!
tw: accidental marriage, self-doubt
Geralt raises an eyebrow. “And this will tell me whether or not I’m in love?”
The witcher allows Jaskier to rub the blossom beneath his chin. It tickles very briefly but Geralt is too focused on the way his bard’s blue eyes are shining in the early August light to be bothered. Geralt is too busy staring at the way Jaskier’s brows have scrunched together and the way his cute pink tongue pokes out from between the tight line of his lips as he keeps concentration.
When he’s finished, Jaskier hands him a fresh bloom and declares: “Now you have to do me!”
Geralt returns the favor, ignoring the way heat creeps up the back of his neck at Jaskier’s particular wording of that order. When he thinks he’s done, he lowers the flower to his side and shrugs. “Now what?”
“Is there yellow on my chin? Yours is practically glowing from all the gold in your stubble! You’re in love, Geralt! Fantastic!”
“You might be worse off than I am,” Geralt smiles softly, thumbing some of the pollen from Jaskier’s chin and wiping it on his own dark armor. No point in ruining any more of the bard’s fancy silks. “I guess we’re both smitten.”
“Congratulations!” a high, sing-song voice suddenly calls from the dark of the forest. Geralt shoves Jaskier behind him, sheltering as much of the bard as possible with his shoulder and chest. The arm that isn’t already wielding his silver sword curls protectively backwards, keeping Jaskier close.
“Who goes there!?”
“That’s quite enough posturing, Master Witcher,” a lower, equally melodious voice informs him. Geralt doesn’t lower his sword in the slightest. From the tree-line emerges a line of Faerie folk, dressed in billowing gowns of bright, summery colors. At their head is a tall, slender woman with large green eyes and fiery red hair. “We’ve only come to congratulate you on your marriage. You did follow the tradition rightly, and we’ve come to bestow our blessings upon you both.”
“Your wedding,” the strange creature replies. “He pledged himself to you with the flower pollen and he did the same in return, yes?”
“I didn’t know it was-”
“It matters not,” the woman interrupts. “It has been done.”
“Can you un-do it?!” Jaskier cries, flinging himself to his knees. “I never meant- He wasn’t supposed to-”
“Wasn’t supposed to what?” Geralt asks, interrupting the bard’s sobs. “We’re married?”
“By Faerie law,” the woman nods. Jaskier shakes his head and Geralt’s heart falls into his boots. Of course, he realizes. Of course Jaskier wouldn’t want to be tied down, especially not to... someone like me.
“He doesn’t deserve this,” the bard pleads, and Geralt’s head snaps up. What? “He doesn’t deserve to be trapped any more! He doesn’t deserve to be tied down by Destiny or Fate or- or-” Jaskier hiccups, tears flowing freely over ruddy-red cheeks “-stupid bards.”
Geralt realizes, very suddenly and with no small amount of shock or awe, that Jaskier truly does love him. The pollen...
“It only works if you’re in love, right?” he asks the Faerie matron. She nods.
“The magic only takes if you’re both in love with each other,” she explains, the light of understanding finally dawning in her eyes. “And I would not have been summoned to give blessing if you were not deeply enamored with each other.”
“Hmm,” the witcher hums, smiling down at his bard. He helps Jaskier to his feet and winds his arms around the slighter man’s waist. “I do, Jaskier. I love you very much.”
“I love you too, of course. Ardently and with all of my being.”
“Then, Jaskier and Geralt, married this day by the laws of my people, will you accept our blessings?”
Jaskier nods before Geralt can ask for clarification and the witcher knows already that his newly minted husband will probably be the death of them both. The woman places the palm of her left hand over their joined ones and speaks clearly: “May you never part unless by death. May your lives be long and prosperous and filled with love and song. May the forest always guide you safely home, for you are bound eternally by the love in your souls. Let it never burn out.”
And then, with a flash, the Faeries were gone.
“So...uh...” Jaskier rubs nervously at the back of his neck with his free hand. Geralt tangles their fingers together easily and smiles.
“How about we head to the coast for our honeymoon?” he suggests. Jaskier throws his arms around his witcher’s neck and kisses him straight on the mouth. Both of them smile into it, like idiots, and turn back toward the road.
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All Things Come to an End
Venti, Xiao, Zhongli (Separate) x Human Reader
To love someone is truly a miraculous thing. Having the ability to trust someone with your heart and to grow old with them. Unfortunately, not everyone has that luxury. Ah ~ To be human and live a blissful ignorant life.
Though they live these lives for the future happiness of others. It’s a trade of sorts. Watch over everything you love and protect it till the end. Though that end will be a long ways away. Maybe one day fate will allow you two to meet again.
Warnings: Reader Death, Angst
Lyrics From You Are My Sunshine
🎶 You are my sunshine. 🎶
My only sunshine
You make me happy
🎶 When skies are grey 🎶
Days filled with laughter, rolling down hills, splashing in puddles, all while the wind dances alongside you both. Being with Venti feels like being a child again. Your heart being filled with a childlike carelessness and freedom.
Though slowly the laughter fades. The wind dies down as you watch the leaves flutter weakly, begging for a more exciting dance.
A familiar green beret rested by your side, nested comfortably atop a familiar bard’s head. Dark bags were painted under his eyes, barely revealing a hint of his true age. What reached out to him were hands cracked and wrinkled due to the cruel mistress of time. If only the winds can smooth your skin to its former glory like a sculptor and their stone. Alas, this is not how your story ends.
The finale is quiet with an open window signaling the end. Gently cradling your hand, the bard dresses in a solemn smile.
“May the wind guide you to where you need to go. Let this love of ours forever grow. Y/N, my gentle breeze. Let these words put you at ease.”
🎶 The other night dear 🎶
When I lay sleeping
I dreamt I held you in my arms
When I awoke dear, I was mistaken
🎶 So, I hung my head and cried 🎶
It’s always the smallest of things that hurt the most. The once comfortable silence now pierced through the air like an arrow. The room you once resided in now served as a reminder of how cruel reality can be. Even a gentle breeze running through his hair reminded him of the gentle touch of your fingers.
Now the adeptus wished for 3 simple things from the owners of the inn; a plate of almond tofu when requested, to tell patrons to leave him alone, and that Y/N’s room to be left how it is.
It felt foolish to be sentimental over a simple human.
No. That’s wrong.
You taught him that after all.
Even if everyone looks the same. Each and every person has their own story to tell and view of the world. The way you spoke so passionately about others, yet kept to yourself intrigued him. But the story he wanted to know the most was yours.
Humans lived short yet interesting lives. Until the day his contract is void. Years, maybe even centuries he’ll pride himself in protecting those stories you loved so dearly.
🎶 You’ll never know dear 🎶
How much I love you
🎶 Please don’t take my sunshine away 🎶
There’s 26 letters in the English alphabet and none of them can help him piece together how much you changed his world. Not even the languages of old could help place the right phrase upon his lips.
Zhongli’s throat closed when trying to read out your eulogy. His heart crumbled as his voice rang out robotically, forcing air to escape his throat. Each word was another affirmation that you were gone. That bright smile, kind eyes, days spent under the sun with you. All have disappeared.
He knew that this would happen one day. Though it always felt too soon. Human youth is so fleeting, yet it feels like forever. The former geo archon even changed his appearance to match yours over the years. Unlike his form though, you didn’t choose to grow old and wither away,
Who could’ve guessed that even he didn’t realize how deeply he loved you.
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Xiao would probably be a bit hover-y when he starts travelling with the party, because fighting things to protect Liyue has been his job and purpose for over a thousand years and now suddenly it. Isn't.
Sure, there's still fighting, but not nearly as much and... It's not his purpose, anymore, not the way it was before, and what. does he do now.
And he was doing it alone, before, for so long, it's been so long since-
He doesn't want to think about that.
So he's probably a bit hover-y, trying to figure out what he's supposed to do now, how he fits with these people, deals with them. What needs doing? Is anyone else doing it, satisfactorily? Can he do it?
And while he probably does need some sleep at some stage, mostly the hours drag on from dusk till dawn. There's only so much sitting around he can do. He's not used to having this much time to sit around.
The party clears treasure hoarders out of yet another set of ruins and sets up camp for the night, planning to tackle the puzzles in the morning. Xiao takes watch. He always does.
And it's not like anything around here is going to get the drop on him, so he turns his attention to the nearest puzzle, for something to do.
He's quiet, so as not to disturb anyone, but Venti, who is there I have decided just now, gets up and joins him. Many hands make light work, and they both wince, subtly in Xiao's case, as something grinds open.
Fortunately, no one stirs. But it is high time Xiao got some sleep too. He's been putting it off long enough. There is a brief, quiet argument, but if Xiao is not going to be reasonable about this then neither is Venti. He hits the Conquerer of Demons on the head with a wine bottle.
The Traveler watches from where they are pretending to sleep with a hand over their mouth to stifle their laughter.
"You could help me, you know," Venti pouts as he carries Xiao over to to his bedroll.
"Shh-h-hh." The Traveler giggles, gesturing to Razor, who is the only person who is actually asleep here. I saw a post by @quilliumwrites I think, about the Traveler not needing sleep and Razor insisting that they do. It's like that post about cats herding their humans to bed except it's a wolf-boy herding three cat-like immortals who don't need sleep nearly as much as he does.
Xiao wakes up furiously well-rested. Venti is going to pay.
Miss Lisa told Razor once that drinking too much is bad for you. Venti drinks a lot. It must be bad for him. Razor is always trying to curb his intake, and now Xiao is going to put more effort into helping him. Venti might be able to resist the efforts of a young mortal, but resisting the efforts of the Vigilant Yaksha is considerably more difficult. How many bottles does the Anemo Archon have. This is ridiculous.
The Traveler pretends not to notice any of this, because it is ridiculous, but also very funny to watch without getting involved. Venti's a god. He'll be fine. Ish.
Diluc isn't sure where this Xiao guy came from or what his deal is, but his bard-god-pain-in-the-ass brought actual money this time and this is a business.
What happens to the bottles once they leave his possession is, however, none of his.
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So here’s an idea for a heartwarming thing between kaeya and venti: somehow the truth of Kaeya’s origins comes out to the group, where he was actually from and what his purpose was supposed to be. And kaeya looks a bit uncomfortable, not knowing how the others would take it, when Venti just shrugs and is like(1/3)
‘Be that as it may, as long as mond is where you call home, and you wish no harm on its people, then you are just as much a child of mond as any other. Your origins hardly matter in that regard. Mondstadt is home for any who wish it to be, of course.’ (2/3)
Because, Kaeya may already consider this place his true home, but hearing that you really *do* belong, right from the god of the land himself, is probably comforting on some level he hadn’t even acknowledged till then. Just,,, venti welcoming kaeya with open arms, because of *course* he would (3/3)
....I’m not crying, you are.
They get into a fight and Venti defends or saves Kaeya and he’s just like of course I’d save you, I protect all my people and Kaeya’s like... I’m your people? Venti’s like obviously???? but it’s a real cute moment
Kaeya: Why do you trust me? My true purpose was--
Venti: But not anymore?
Kaeya: I mean, well, no, but--
Venti: As the second-oldest archon, let me tell you, it doesn’t matter. My purpose a hundred years ago was to see how many cecilia flowers I could put into my mouth. Rex Lapis had to come all the way from Liyue to prevent me from choking BUT I got 100 in my mouth WITHOUT shapeshifting too much
Kaeya, who legit just thought Venti was a human bard: Back up you’re the second-oldest what now--
Venti hears Kaeya practicing his speech to confess the truth and immediately starts drafting his own acceptance speech because he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make sure all his people feel welcome and free to live the lives they want to
Kaeya: Wait, I thought you hated Albedo because you don’t know his origins
Venti: No??? First of all he’s really pretty and Rex trusts him, second of all he’s shifty af because every time he’s alone he goes all “if I one day destroy Mondstadt... destroy everything....” tell me that’s not weird
Venti having a LONG talk with Diluc about listening to the people you love and how your past doesn’t matter, only your present
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✨ hurt/comfort prompt! ✨ just geralt feeling very, very tired and overwhelmed after a particularly complicated hunt (which lasted weeks), returning to the inn where jaskier is waiting for him. jaskier knows that something is wrong, but he only realizes the gravity of it when geralt, out of nowhere, starts crying. and he has never seen him cry.
Nonie, I love you. I am a hoe for some emotional release. Without further ado, let us make the boy cry.
Warnings: talk of a nasty hunt? of people being the real nasties? not much tho
Jaskier was stirred from his disappointingly light sleep by an unexpected weight on the bed. He rolled into Geralt, sleepy confusion fading when he recognized his wolf and curled around his hips, resting his hand at the small of the larger man’s back.
Geralt grunted, tearing at his gloves with a heavy scowl on his face.
Jaskier sat up next to him, only now realizing Geralt was still in his armor, boots and all, “Here, love. Let me.” he was still groggy with sleep but his hands worked faster than Geralt’s.
When he’d taken care of the gloves, he unbuckled the rest of his armor, tossing it to a chair in the corner with just enough care to keep Geralt quiet. He didn’t notice till he was done how the witcher was holding his breath. He took long inhales, holding it until he couldn’t any longer, then stunted exhales that made Jaskier worry he was sick.
The bard untied his hair, running his hands through the length in a practiced soothing motion, “Are you alright?”
Geralt nodded, wiping a hand over his face, “Tired.”
Jaskier slid off the bed onto the floor to unlace Geralt’s boots. He knew that tone all too well; the hunt was over and he had given everything he had and more. The last time he’d heard it the witcher had slept for three days.
Jaskier sat back on his heels, having removed his shoes, and looked Geralt over for wounds he may not have noticed from the high of his potions. What he found broke his heart.
Geralt was shaking, not from any wound or fever, but from exhaustion and a kind of pain no salve could fix. His fists were clenched tight and he glared at the ground as if it had chosen his path for him, bitter and angry and lost. He must have heard some change in Jaskier’s heartbeat, sparing him a worried glance before shaking his head ever so slightly.
Jaskier rested a hand on his knee, rubbing his thumb over his knee cap as he whispered, “You don’t have to tell me.”
“Human,” Geralt blurted out the word almost before Jaskier had finished, “it was a man…"
Jaskier swallowed his disgust and morbid questions, straightening to stand on his knees and resting a soft hand on Geralt’s stubbled cheek, “Do you feel guilty?”
Geralt snarled, “Fuck no.”
“Good, good…” the bard whispered, still not quite sure why he was so tense but worried nonetheless.
"When does it stop?" Geralt's voice was barely audible as he hesitantly set his hands on Jaskier's waist.
The bard brought his other hand up to cage the witcher’s face, looking into his golden eyes usually so alert and perceptive and only seeing sorrow, “What darling?”
At first, Jaskier thought it was a trick of the light when he saw tears welling as Geralt searched his face, looking for something he was sure he couldn’t give. As a tear escaped despite Geralt's best efforts, Jaskier realized he'd never, in thirteen years, seen his witcher cry.
"When-" Geralt sniffed, looking up at the ceiling, "-when will the people I'm supposed to- want to protect stop being the vilest things I come across?"
In that moment the pain in his chest felt so real Jaskier could have sworn his heart turned to stone, "Geralt…"
He found himself close to tears when those shining gold eyes met his and he thought for a moment he could share a fraction of his burden, "I don't know, love. I- I can't tell you…"
A look close to distress clouded Geralt's features as his breathing became more ragged and even more tears flooded from his eyes. As scared and hopeless and utterly exhausted as he was, he nodded, accepting his fate as he always eventually did, "Don't cry, Julek." He muttered, burying his head in his bard's neck.
Jaskier embraced him as fully as he could from his position on the floor, rubbing a soothing hand up and down his back as he whispered, "Love, there's nothing wrong with crying."
Geralt's body shook with the first of many sobs that night, clinging to Jaskier with all he had left, "It fucking hurts."
Jaskier felt tears run down his own cheeks as he did his best to soothe his witcher, "I know, dear heart… I know… you deserve so much better…"
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💔Dainseif x Reader
a bit Houseki no Kuni crossover/ characters
It's been so long since the fall of Khaenri'ah, there isn't much I remember from those times. Most of which are small facts and details most likely lost to time. Though there is one precious thing or person I remember before the Gods' wrath fell upon the city, their name was Y/n. I remember their lovely smile, their warm embrace, the softness of their skin, and their melodious voice whispering sweet nothing into my ear.
Sadly they were taken from me in the destruction of Khaenri'ah. It was my duty as the Twilight Sword to protect the people of Khaenri'ah, to protect them, and I failed. A curse of long life was placed upon me as many of the people turned and transformed into monsters.
I fell into despair when the strange goddess from Celestia appeared before me. If I were to stop the rebellion from the abyss, she would return what I lost. At first, I had no idea what she could have meant, but I would learn soon. In desperation, I foolishly agreed to her wishes, looking back now I shouldn't have so stupidly agreed. The gods have never blessed me in the past, I should have never hoped they would in the future. After so long many details of Y/n have faded, and at times I wonder if they were just my imagination. Yet I did meet strange people along my travels, one of them had grown dear to me.
The last thing I remember is seeing a red sky with a strange goddess glaring down at everyone below. Red and black cubes floated about her. Some was calling out a name, Y/n I believe, then suddenly everything goes black as I was shoved to the ground. During that time of darkness, all I could feel was a strong will. I didn't want to perish and return too... I can no longer remember. Whenever I try to search my mind all I can find is a strange figure standing ahead of me, with its hand outstretched to me.
When I finally opened my eyes, I found myself surrounded by ruins that had long burned. Plants grew through the fissures in the destroyed stones, many skeletons were scattered along the ground. I felt strange for some reason, looking down at my arms, they sparkled in the sunlight. It shined a gleaming blue, it looked like Noctilucous Jade. My whole body seemed to be made of it; my legs, fingers, even my (Hair length) hair glimmered of the gem. Who am I?
I shakily got to my feet, as my body shined in the sun. The land ahead was a beautiful green as the leaves and trees swayed in the gentle wind. I was quite obviously alone, but why? Why was I so desperate for life? Maybe If I wander about I'll... Find my answer.
As I tracked the abyss, I came across a small group of the abyss mages. Who was occupied with corning some poor wanderer, raising my hand and unleashing my power made quick work of the horrid creatures. Something was off about this wanderer, so I approached cautiously. This being looked to be made of precious material, jade perhaps. Yet their form looked familiar to me, somehow.
A brief image of Y/n flashed in my mind. Yet I quickly shook my head, they are not the same. Everyone from Khaenri'ah
"umm, thank you, sir," They said as they slowly stood.
As looked them over, and noticed they wore greatly diminished garments of a Khaenri'ahen citizen. "Where did you get those clothes?" I asked.
"I don't know, I just woke up with these clothes," The being said as they looked down at their clothes.
"So wondered, why do you travel teyvat?" I asked them.
"I do not remember, I just remember not wanting to parish and return to someone. Yet I can't remember who?" they said with a confused look in their eyes. " Why do you travel?"
"That is not important," I said simply.
"So why do your eyes appear so sad?" They asked again.
"What do you mean?" I asked them.
"You seem lonely. Can I travel with you, just till I find my answer," They begged?
Staring at their sparkling face, I couldn't shake that feeling of familiarity. Still, if they really are a tiny few of Khaenri'ahen that survive, and didn't turn into monsters. I guess their companionship would be fine I suppose.
"If that is what you wish I won't stop you, but I will be following dangerous monsters. I will not always be able to protect you, so follow at your own risk," I warned them.
"Thank you, Mr... Umm,"
"Dainseif," I answered. ," And what of your name?"
"Mr.Dainseif," They smiled warmly
"I don't remember my name, I'm not sure if I have one," The being said.
"Hmm, well from now on your name is... Jade," Dainseif said.
"Well, my name is jade. Mr.Dainseif,"
It has been 500 years since the fall of Khaenri'ah.
I have been traveling with Jade for almost as long, even when they learned many things of me. Even when the abyss princess offered Jade the option to join her and her war on destiny, Jade always remained by my side.
"Why didn't you leave with Lumine, jade?" I asked them.
"I understand her, but I don't think the entire fall of Khaenri'ah is your fault. And I don't think you're a bad person, so you must be doing this for a good reason," Jade smiled.
"No, I'm doing this for a selfish reason. The gods of Celestia promised me, that if I take down the abyss, they would return Y/n to me," Dainseif said with a sad and bitter look on his face," I was foolish to accept, but I now know better to anger the gods."
"You must really love this Y/n. That so sweet," Jade smiled warmly.
"I think they would have agreed with you, but it's unlikely they would actually return them to me," I explained.
"Well, it wouldn't be godly of them if they don't uphold their own promise right?" Jade asked.
"I suppose, but who can say," I said as a sigh escaped my lips." I really do hope Y/n is waiting for me at the end of this journey."
"So it's off to mondstadt right?" Jade asked with an excited smile on their face.
In mondstadt we met a very odd but familiar-looking traveler, he looked very similar to Lumine, but with longer hair and different clothing. With him a floating child accompanied him, they seemed to be interested in Mr.Dainsleif. Soon they accompanied us on the hunt for the abyss herald. Soon we found ourselves in wolvendom
"Stay here Jade, I'm going to look around for further clues. If danger comes around, just find me, or run to safety and I'll come and find you," Dainsleif said gently to me.
"Alright, be careful," I said with slight worry on my face.
Dainsleif nodded as he patted my head softly. As I waited for his return My mind tried to dig further into my hazier memories. She remembers running with someone pulling her past the destruction of Khaenri'ah. Yet I was pulled from my thoughts when the traveler and Paimon shortly arrived.
"Oh, where did Dain go?" Paimon asked.
"He went to investigate the area further," I answered." He'll be back soon."
" O-oh alright. Hey, Jade right? So how long have you been traveling with Dain?" Piamon asked.
"For as long as I can remember," I answered simply.
"What is Dain like, if I may ask?" aether asked.
"Well. When I first met him, he was quiet and hard to talk to since he mostly kept to himself," I said, as I thought back. " Though Know he is very caring in his own way, and he is very lonely behind his stoic face."
"Lonely? W-what makes you say that?" Paimon asked.
"Well, a long time ago he lost his lover. And at times, I think he projects them onto me," I said slowly.
"What do you mean?" Aether asked.
"Sometimes when he is in time of sorrow, he would hug and hold me close, and whisper sweet things to me, but the name he calls is Y/n," I said sadly." The next day he would ask me to forget about it."
"Wha that so sad, Paimon feels sorry for him," Painmon frowns.
"What about you? Why do you travel with him?" Aether asked.
"At first I simply followed in hopes to learn about myself, and why I am this way along my journey with Dainsleif. Maybe learn what I have forgotten, but know I follow Dainsleif to keep him company. I can learn about my origins after Dain finishes his journey." I smiled.
But before we could continue our conversation, abyss mages and hilicurls appeared. They surrounded us as they slowly closed in on us. Aether readied his sword, as I unsheathed my sword as well.
The fight was tough, I got scrapped and chipped along the way but we managed. It of now was an ice shard flew past and cracked a good chunk of my face. Half of my face was broken off, but thankfully traveler made quick work of the monster.
"Ahh! Jade are you okay?!" Paimon gasped.
"I'm fine, thou could you help look for my face?" I asked.
"Jade!" Dainsleif called out.
I slowly and nervously turned to face Dain. As I slowly opened my one eye and saw the sadness and worry in his eyes.
" What happened? I thought I told you to run away at the first sign of danger," Dainsleif said as he cupped my cheek and held me close.
" We were surrounded, there was no choice but to fight," I said to him.
"You need to be careful, you're too fragile," Dainsleif sighed as his fingers traced the cracks on my face. As I stared I could see he wasn't seeing me.
"I'm fine, I just need the left side of my face," I said as I looked away.
"Y/- Jade, please be careful," Dain stuttered as he looked away bashfully," I'm sorry."
Soon the two groups parted ways as Aether and Paimon watched them leave.
"Wow, Dain must really miss this Y/n person if he mistakes two different people," Paimon sighed sadly.
"Something tells me there destiny and journey are more intertwined then they relieaze," Aether said veguly.
"What makes you say that?" Paimon asked.
"Aether is not wrong about that," Venti said as he suddenly appeared.
"AHHH! Tone deaf bard what are you doing here?!" Paimon gasped.
"I was around dragon spire for awhile. Those two have such a tragic story," Venti frowned sadly.
"What do you mean?" Paimon asked
"The princess the knight searches for has always been by his side, and the companion made of beautiful jade's answer had always been beside them," Venti said sadly as he strumd his lyre.
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People linked by destiny will always find each other
This is one of my earliest fanfics and think I never posted this here on tumblr, only on ao3
In wich Ciri and Geralt find each other and Geralt takes on the role of her (foster-/god-) father. After a few weeks they happen to run into Jaskier, who has not forgiven Geralt...
CW: Mention of Ciri experiencing trauma, nothing too specific, just how it shaped her current behavior
Chapter 2, 3, 4, 5
Chapter 1 of 5
Geralt did not care if it was destiny or something else, but when Princess Cirilla, the child he had unwillingly bound to himself with the law of surprise, stood before him in the woods, he knew that he needed and wanted to take care of this girl, to protect her and to learn everything he needed to know to make her life a happy one.
After he had been so stupid to push away the people he had actually cared for and that had cared for him, he needed to do right by this girl that had stood before him all alone, and who had experienced so much trauma in her short life.
Now it was his responsibility to make sure she was safe, teach her everything she needed to survive and flourish in this cruel world and most importantly feel loved. So he dusted off the heavy heart in his chest which existence he had so eagerly denied, but in the end had not been able to protect from being broken by his own stupid words thrown towards a bard.
In the first days they travelled together Geralt had noticed that Ciri acted way too grown-up for her few years on this earth. She was very serious, polite and did not complain about or ask for anything. He knew this was a facade she had put up as a coping mechanism. He gave her the room to get to get to know him.
And he always gave her choices - riding on Roach or walking, making camp now or later - and respected her decisions. He knew that at first she had tried to give the choices back to Geralt or to take the choice she thought would be the smaller effort, as if she was afraid he would just leave her behind if she turned out to be a burden.
After a few days Ciri quietly asked if she could take Roaches reins. He showed the girl how to approach the yet unfamiliar horse and to his surprise Roach was gentle and patient with Ciri, letting herself be petted. So Ciri took the reins in her small hands and from then on the horse was a steady presence at the girl’s side.
In the evening Geralt showed her how to remove the saddle and how to properly dry off the horse with a hand full of hay. Ciri eagerly learned to take care of Roach, when and what to feed her or when they should stop for Roach to drink and rest. Ciri got more relaxed and sometimes he even saw a faint smile on her face when she petted the horse’s neck.
But the first time Ciri’s earnest little face really light up with a smile was when he picked up sweet strawberries from a farmer. It had felt like the greatest honor to be bestowed upon him. And she opened up more and more. One night she asked for a second helping of their dinner, a day later she asked to ride a while on Roach and another night she told him that she liked the roasted rabbits more than the stew he had cooked the night before.
And when one evening she quietly asked if they could make camp now because her feet hurt he was in no way annoyed but truly honored that she finally trusted him enough to voice something like that - only slight nervous, but without fear.
It was a delight when she started to talk. Not just the polite answers she had given him in their first few days together, but she started to tell him things. Sometimes she talked about her favorite foods, a game she had loved to play with her friends or about the fat orange cat from the cook that she had loved dearly and other times she told him about the last days with her grandmother and the attack from Nilfgaard.
When she started to ask about his swords he offered to teach her basic fighting stances and moves. The girl was an eager student.
Ciri took a liking to the life with the witcher. She started to love all the little chores that were part of their traveling days, like gathering wood for a fire or herbs for their meals and even scrubbing their cooking pot. But taking care of Roach was still her favorite.
One day Ciri insisted that they stop when she saw fields of wildflowers. She gathered flowers and present them to the horse one after another and memorized the ones that Roach’s liked to eat, so she could gather more of them the next time. And she loved to comb and braid the horse’s mane.
The first time he saw wildflowers braided into Roach’s mane his heart had stopped for a moment, till he realized it was not Jaskier’s work but Ciri’s. When he had travelled with the bard, Jaskier had also taken a liking to the horse and surprisingly Roach had let him braid his mane and to Geralt’s confusion even seemed to like it. Ciri’s worried reaction to Geralt’s cold expression made him soften his face to a smile, telling her how lovely their horse looked.
It had been unexpected for the witcher how much the thought of Jaskier and the reminder of his absence did upset him. Finding Ciri and traveling with her towards Kaer Morhen had distracted him largely from thinking about the bard but in that moment Geralt felt how much he had screwed up. He could not remember why he had said those cruel words to his bard.
And this was not the only instance where Ciri made him think of Jaskier. When the girl had started to opened up to Geralt, it had hit him how her cheery personality and absolute trust in him reminded him of his former traveling companion. It was a bitter reminder that only few humans were so relaxed and careless around him and how he had driven away one of these precious few.
For Ciri’s protection Geralt had suggested to cut her hair short and wear trousers as a disguise. Ciri warmed up to the idea quickly. With the trousers it was far easier to ride on Roach and to climb rocks or trees and it took way less time to comb and wash the shorter hair.
Geralt greatly enjoyed it, when the girl was happy. After all the trauma she had experienced he was amazed about her ability to find joy in little things, like beautiful flowers or the pretty song of a bird. He was often amazed by her endless energy. In the evenings she often danced around their fire, telling him old bedtime stories from her early childhood.
And she sang. Ciri loved to sing. But to his utter dismay the songs she enjoyed most were from none other than Jaskier - the famous bard, as Ciri liked to call him. She told him that the bard had - unknown to Geralt - visited the Citran Court regularly, performing at many bankets over the course of Ciri’s life. And the girl was absolutely smitten with the bard.
Link to the next chapter on tumblr and ao3
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A dragons wish - Chapter 4
Kindly read on AO3
They were loud and messy, just like Tolkien had described them. There were bits and pieces of food flying around, ale was splattered on the floor and table. They laughed and sang, ate and cheered. Ruby was glad she had bought this much food otherwise they would have eaten her out of home and house.
Looking at the gathered lot she couldn’t help but smile. Even her dragon seemed to gradually accept them. It had started when Ori had walked up to her, fidgeting with his fingers and asking if there would be something to read that hadn’t been destroyed. The joyful spark in his eyes and the excited squeal had almost melted her heart.
The dragon reacted strangely, just like when Bilbo had handed her the tray and the tea-set he only grumbled low and swung his tail from one side to the other, watching the young scribes every movement. Not controlling, but rather protective.
There was still another strange thing she had noticed. Whenever Throrin was near the dragon would uncurl himself and openly watch the king, urging her in his direction with gentle, and not so gentle, nudging against her ribcage. Shaking her head she tries to forget the strange thoughts.
“Tell me about your adventures,” pleaded Ruby after bringing out a large tray of cookies.
Dori urged her to sit down, while Ori was immersed in the book she had brought him. Bombur seemed to make sure her plate was never empty and even the stern warrior, Dwalin, looked out for her, refilling her cup with tea and sliding her the sugar before she could even ask. Balin was just about to begin telling their story as Nori cleared his throat.
It was unusual for the king’s spy to direkt any attention towards himself. Still, he eyed her with a piercing gaze, noting her every movement and word. He found it strange for such a young girl to live all alone in this mountain where there should be a dragon. She had enough food ready for all of them as they arrived, as if she had known they would come. On top of that Thorin was acting strange, well, stranger than normally, and Dwalin looked like he just had seen a puppy in a carton at the corner of the street, free to adopt. Something was off, he just couldn’t put his finger on it.
“Mistress Ruby, I hope you do not mind me asking, but do you live here all alone?” he asks, well aware of the looks his brothers were giving him.
“Ah, well yes… I do live alone. Have been on my own here since I can remember. That reminds me. Why don’t you send a message to lake town, so the others can come home as well? The ravens came back a few years ago. They don’t really like me, but I tolerate them,” her dragon snorted as she mentioned the ravens, all they did were laugh at her whenever she had tried to send a message to Bard through them.
“When exactly did you arrive? Was the dragon gone then already and where is he now?” the thief wouldn’t so easily back down, not even the murderous look from the oldest of the Ri brothers could stop him now.
In the meantime it had quieted down around the table. All eyes were on Ruby and Nori, most of them concerned for their hosts' reaction and wellbeing, some angried by the rude behavior of a member of the company and one pair confused, yet somehow knowing.
“I, I arrived some time ago. You could say the mountain is all I know. Besides lake town I haven’t been anywhere else so far,” she stopped hesistand of how to answer the second question of the dwarf.
The dragon had curled himself back up around her heart, snoozing peacefully. She didn’t know why, but he had taken a liking to the dwarrows he once had killed and robbed off their home. But maybe that were her feelings and he just accepted the fact. He had been acting strange since she first shifted into human form. Valuing books and tea over gold and jewels and now even having the desire to protect the rightful King under the Mountain instead of roasting him alive.
“The dragon is currently sleeping and as it seems he doesn’t mind you being here,” she answered truthfully.
Chaos broke loose. The fact that the dragon was indeed alive and sleeping somewhere in the mountain, presumably, made the resting dwarrows wary once again. Dori grabbed her and Ori and pulled them closer to himself as if to shelter them. If he knew who he was pulling close…
Dwalin and Thorin were immediately on their feet, knocking over their stools and scattering some food across the floor while Bilbo shrunk, nearly vanishing under the table. Bombur nudged Bifur, who pulled out a knife while Gloin eyed the fast halls.
“Where is that ugly fat snail?!” Thorin rumbled to no one in particular.
Outraged, the dragon jumped up and against her ribs. Ruby let out a small yelp by the sudden impact forcing the air out of her lungs. It was one thing to tolerate them, but hurting a dragon's ego was never a good idea.
Ruby could feel the familiar warmth rising from her chest and lungs up her throat. She had to bite her own tongue so as not to curse. There was no way they would not notice if there would be smoke coming from her mouth or worse, fire.
“But I am very small and very cute,” Ruby managed to say, trying her best to calm the dragon before he would break her whole rib cage in the attempt to escape.
“Yes, you are very sweet,” Dwalin mumbles to her and the whole company's surprise.
The dragon stopped his attempts and returned to his spot around her heart, grumbling and growling lowely, but rather pleased with the praise, non the less vary and with one eye open. This had been dangerous. Ruby couldn’t have ever forgiven herself if she would have harmed any of them. She would need to be more cautious.
“I need some air,” she excused herself rather poorly.
Separating herself from Dori she nodded apologising in Balin's direction and rushed past the startled Thorin. Ruby could feel Noris eyes staring at her back just like the worried looks from the rest of the company.
“What were you thinking?! She is our host! Did you even consider …”
The voices grew quieter until they finally faded away. The cold wind blew through her hair, made single strands dance and pulled on her several braids as she reached the very top of the wall. In the distance she could see the faint lights of lake town shining through the fog and the dark.
It was quiet out here. When she had still been at home, on earth, she had always longed for peace and silence. Now it seemed less peaceful and rather suffocating. They all had been so happy, probably positive that the journey was over. And yet there were so much more to come.
Her heart tightened at the sheer thought of losing any of them, of seeing them run into battle, into their death. The dragon growled threatening and she eased his and her worries by starting to hum. It had become a habit over the years. Whenever the silence would become too heavy she would break it with something as simple as humming.
For some reason Ruby ended up with the song ‘Still into You’ from Paramore. She climbed up onto the outer wall, opening her arms, closing her eyes and just enjoying the wind. Yes, maybe even after sixty years she still wasn’t over that stupid crush she had on the king that Tolkien had killed in the end. Yes, it didn’t help that Peter Jackson had casted Richard Armitage. And hell yes, why on earth did they resemble the movie characters so much?!
For a moment she thought about letting herself fall and stretch her wings for a bit, as she spun around herself again and again, when two strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist, easily lifting her up and bringing her away from the edge.
“What were you thinking?! She is our host! Did you even consider …” Dori immediately started his lecture.
Nori could only roll with his eyes. He had heard all of this more than a million times. That he would not come far by being so nosy and rude and that he should finally stop upsetting everyone around them and consider the feelings of others … bla bla bla.
“Yeah, yeah. I get it, you nagging old mother hen. For how long did we know her? Three hours? Four? There is something fishy here and it is not the soup.”
Turning around on his heels he followed the strange little girl calling herself their host. She was strange and his instinct told him that she was hiding something. A bit further behind him he could hear the hesitant steps of his younger brother echoing from the walls. For some reason Ori had already let that little redhead into his heart. Ori had always had a soft and big heart.
His heart however nearly stopped when he saw her. Dancing on the outer wall, eyes closed and humming a strange tune. She turned and turned, her arms extended and her feed always seemed to find the right foothold. Even though she danced right on the edge her movements were precise and confident.
Before Ori could let out a high pitched squeak, Nori quickly covered his mouth. He didn’t dare to startle the girl and risk her falling off the wall. Signing in Iglishmek he urged Ori to go and get Thorin and better not let Dori know. Otherwise their brother might indeed blow up or at least get a heart attack.
It didn’t take long and to Noris' discomfort Ori not only brought Thorin and maybe Dwalin, but also Dori and Bombur. Rubbing his temples the spy only pointed at the still dancing and humming girl.
Nori witnessed, for the first time on their whole quest, how all color drained from the king's face. Gently Thorin approached Ruby and waited till she slowed her spinning and turning and then quickly wrapped his arms around her middle, carrying her away from the edge and back inside.
What a particular and strange behavior for their king and leader. Looking to the side Nori could spot Gloin and Balin joining them with a large raven on Gloins arm. Dori leaned at the wall, his eyes wide open and one hand clutching his chest. It was obvious that the mother hen was not too far away from a hysterical attack.
“What were you doing?!” Thorin grumbled, horror in his voice, looking down at the small creature, still secure in his arms.
“Well, it is a wonderful night for a dance under the moon, don’t you agree?” tilting her head back until the back bumped against his chest she smiled up.
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Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader
Word Count: 1631 words
Summary: The reader compares herself to Yennefer, and Geralt being taken aback because he didn't know she had an image problem
You and Geralt knew each other very well, all things considered.
He had saved your life a number of times, and you had done the same in all the years that you’d traveled by his side. You were, by all accounts, a friend of the witcher, if he had one and he cared for you.
However, he had never given you much more thought other than that.
He traveled with you, and shared tales of battle with you, but there was nothing more than that…
The appearance of the sorceress greatly bothered you and it wasn’t until Jaskier pointed out who strangely you had been acting that it ever registered in the white-haired man’s mind.
“What’s crawled down her corset?” the bard teased, sitting down beside Geralt by the fire, gesturing over to where you were, leaning up against a tree.
As best he could tell, you were picking at your boot laces with the tip of a dagger, far away from the rest of the search party.
It was strange for you, but Geralt hadn’t given it much attention before now. After all, you had never really been all that sociable with strangers before.
...Not that Jaskier was a stranger at this point in your travels.
“Not a clue-you could go ask her yourself, bard” Geralt grumbled, missing the obvious chance to check on your himself, not that he cared.
He had never opened his eyes enough to realize just how much he admired you, or how much he cared about your well being.
For as long as he’d known you, you had always taken care of yourself without a problem, and you had made it very clear that you weren’t some damsel he had to save.
If you had a problem, he was sure you’d figure it out.
...Because you always did.
Geralt didn’t even really register that Jaskier had left his side until much later in the evening. You two had been sitting there against that tree for a few hours, talking in hushed whispers.
“Sun down, time to turn in” he called, that same demanding tone in the man’s voice as his was of ordering you both to his side. You didn’t really want to stop talking to Jaskier, but you knew better than to argue.
After all, Geralt had made it very clear you weren’t to be left alone with any of these thugs and criminals without him.
The last thing you wanted was to deal with the witcher’s attitude.
You had agreed to sleep a few feet away from both Geralt and Jaskier, as a compromise to sleeping between the two of them. The original offer was intended to keep you safe but you just felt smothered.
Both men knew that you could protect yourself just fine.
“What did you talk about?” Geralt wondered gruffly, making it clear that he wasn’t really asking. His eyes didn’t move from where you were a few feet away, but it was obvious that he was talking to Jaskier.
...He was only ever talking to Jaskier.
“Interested all of a sudden? Well grumpy, our fair lady is feeling rather ignored in the company of the witch” he shrugged, poking fun at the much larger man.
It didn’t make sense at first.
Sure, Geralt could comprehend what Jaskier was telling him, but it didn’t add up in his head. You had never been the jealous kind, and you had nothing to be jealous of in the first place, but that wasn’t the strangest part.
The strangest part was that you cared.
Geralt had never even thought about you having any sort of feelings for him, but that clearly wasn’t the case.
“Yennefer? Why would Y/N care about Yen?” he questioned, his yellow eyes flicking to the other woman away from you for a moment.
You two were opposites in a lot of ways, but similar in some too. In all accounts, Geralt had assumed that you two would become allies, rather than enemies.
“Oh sweet Geralt, how blind you are” Jaskier grinned, finding himself more and more amused as the moments ticked by. He had never had the upper hand on the witcher like this.
But for once, it would seem that the bard knew something that he didn’t, and it would be a lie to say that it didn’t feel nice.
“You can ask her yourself, witcher” the smaller man grinned, using his earlier words against Geralt now. If he wanted to fully understand you, he would have to get the truth from your lips.
That was just the way it was.
It took hours…
Hours of complete and total silence, staring into the dark for Geralt to decide that he should actually talk to you about the issue at hand.
He had no clue how it would go, but he wouldn’t be able to rest until he figured it out.
After all, he wasn’t going to travel with the two of you with only Jaskier rambling to keep him company. He would surely go insane.
“Geralt? What are you doing? Is everything alright?” you gasped, reaching down to retrieve your blade from your side as soon as you felt him, shaking you from sleep.
You had no idea what he was doing, but you knew that he wouldn’t be waking you if it wasn’t important.
“Jaskier told me something earlier, and I need to hear it from you” he muttered, not even bothering to keep his voice down. He couldn’t give a damn if he woke the others.
He already knew Jaskier could sleep through anything, and in truth, the two of you were his only concern.
Not that he would ever tell you that.
“Jaskier says a lot of things, why couldn’t it wait till morning?” you groaned, wiping the sleep from your eyes before you sat up, realizing that you weren’t going to get to go back to sleep until you figured this out.
Nothing ever kept the witcher up, so it had to be really eating him up.
“Are you jealous of Yennefer?”
It came out of nowhere, and was much more blunt than you’d been expecting at this hour, but you didn’t bother arguing.
Of course you were. Everything she was, was what you’d always wanted to be. She was feminine and beautiful, while still holding her own with the men.
You had worked your entire life to be a warrior like she was, respected and well known, but Geralt was the only one who’d ever even treated you as such.
...Not to mention the very simple fact that you’d seen how Geralt looked at her, and men never looked at you that way.
However, you didn’t exactly want to tell him that.
“Of course not, don’t be a fool” you huffed, thinking about rolling over and going back to sleep. Geralt may have had a point but that didn’t mean you had to talk about it.
You would get over it eventually.
“What would I even have to be jealous of her for, witcher? The feelings you have for her? Or maybe her stunning beauty?” you asked, realizing in a single moment that he was challenging you.
Geralt thought that he knew how you felt already, and you weren’t going to prove him wrong.
The Witcher only sat there for a moment, shocked that you went so quickly from calm to aggressive.
“What are you talking about? I have no feelings for her” Geralt tried, assuring you as best he could. However, you had a feeling that he was lying to you.
What sort of man wouldn’t recognize that sort of beauty?
“You’re lying to me, I’ve seen the way you look at her”
This time, the harshness in your voice was gone, leaving only pain and anguish. You had always loved Geralt and of course you did. He was the only person who ever gave you a chance, but you weren’t the sort of woman he was attracted to.
...And you couldn’t change that.
“It doesn’t matter, we need our rest” you shrugged, turning away from him in upset. You weren’t going to have this discussion, especially not at this hour.
It wouldn’t change anything between the two of you anyway.
Now, Geralt wanted nothing more than to argue. He didn’t like the way the conversation had gone but you made your opinion on the matter abundantly clear.
You weren’t in the mood to talk about this, now or ever.
Geralt had been thinking about your conversation for days now, at this point.
He had never seen you acting this way in all the years that he’d known you but it had clearly bothered you. It had been driving him mad, but the worst part was that it wasn’t even the truth.
Geralt had always had a sort of tension with Yennefer but it wasn’t something he would ever do anything about.
It wasn’t real love, not like what she deserved, and not like what you deserved.
In truth, he didn’t deserve either of you but that didn’t change the fact that Geralt couldn’t shake something in the pit of his stomach. It was something he’d been shoving down for what seemed like forever.
...It was a very obvious attraction to one of his oldest friends.
Now, Geralt had no idea how to react in that moment, staring into the woods, actually contemplating the fact that he was in love with you. There was no way he actually felt that way, right?
It didn’t make any sense.
In all the time that he’d known you, you two had never once acknowledged the fact that there could be anything more between you...but he couldn’t help it.
The Witcher wanted you, and he had no idea what to do.
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2 with jaskier and eskel please?
Jaskier takes another swing of the bottle, a pleasant burst of fruit and honey filling his mouth as he passes the bottle of Est Est to Eskel. "And then, he fell flat on his ass! Would've been dead if I hadn't swooped in and thrown a blade at it's foot!" Eskel laughs, a warm sound that leaves Jaskier heady with want.
"Good to know not all witchers are as stuck up as Geralt is, it took me half a decade to coax a chuckle out of him," they both delve into giggles at that, and Jaskier takes another sip of the wine.
"True, but we're not as pretty as he is." No, that won't do, it really won't. Eskel grimaces as he watches the same slide off of Jaskier's face.
"Is that what you think?" Eskel shrugs, trying to play it off.
"It's what I know." And clearly, he's been told wrong.
"Let me touch you." Eskel scoots closer in invitation, lip caught between his teeth and scar pulling down his face with it. Jaskier straddles him, wine thrumming through his veins as he cups Eskel's cheek, pressing a soft kiss to the other. "Words will not convinced you, will they?" Eskel's lack of answer is answer enough.
"Look, Jaskier, I know you to be a good man and all, but I'm not," his voice remains steady, though it goes breathless at the end, "I'm not here for a pity fuck." Jaskier sits up, looking into lovely browns that barely manage to hide insecurity.
"Neither am I, darling." He tucks himself into Eskel's neck, pressing slow kisses up the skin. His hands trails down his pecs, And Eskel's breath hitches when Jaskier glides over his nipples. "Sensitive, are we?" Eskel chuckles, and they're pressed so tight that Jaskier can feel it in his own chest.
"You're one to say, don't even need to touch your cock to cum do you?" Jaskier hums, listening to Eskel's slow heart as he drags his hands up his arms.
"You've got such nice arms, you know." He presses into a muscle, loose from their drink and earns himself a groan. "You're so strong, but every witcher is, isn't that right?" Eskel shrugs, hums noncommittally. Jaskier trails down the thick of his abs and, and back up over his tits.
"Still, it's not your strength that attracts me," Eskel raised a brow at him.
"Is it my impossibly thick dick?" Jaskier laughs, presses a gentle kiss to the witcher's lips.
"Yes, but also no." He wraps his arms under Eskel's, and hugs him close. "It's the warmth in your eyes, the scars of fishhooks on your hands from a life you don't remember living. It's the gentleness you treat people with, as if each is a child worth taking care of rather than a fifty year old drunk." Eskel huffs at that.
"I swore an oath to protect."
"You swore no oath of such, Eskel. You swore to kill monsters and stay out of human affairs. And yet..." he thumbs over the scars that split down Eskel's face. Their lips are parted, sharing breath, and sharing quiet. "What attracts me to you is the bravery in these scars."
"The stupidity, you mean, bard."
"Do you know what bravery is?" Jaskier continues on, "It's courage to stand again in the face of failure, no matter how long it takes to find your feet." Eskel's breath hitches, and Jaskier takes the moment to press gentle kisses up his scar. "You're so beautiful to me."
"Tell me again, and I might believe you."
"Well," Jaskier says, pulling back to look into Eskel's eyes, "I'll tell you forever, till I die. You’re gorgeous."
He keeps telling him for eons and eternities, and Eskel finally begins believing him.
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So I Don’t Forget Again: A Breath of The Wild fanfiction
Entry 170: Rito Village
Even though I can’t fly and most of their techniques involves the intricacies of flying and shooting at the same time I’ve still learned a lot. Teba said we were going to take a break today; he had noticed my arm started acting up yesterday and thought I needed a break. Yesterday he thought I just might not have stretched enough before training but seeing me this morning he thought I might have pulled something and suggested I ask Saki to take a look at it.
I guess I’ll have to visit the Domain soon. I’m not even near finished with the medicine I have now. Feels like a waste to have not finished this stuff before getting new medicine, but I was given an excess amount since they didn’t know how long I was going to be gone for.
Bossa Nova kept nudging my arm and side, I think he’s noticed too. That or he just wants scratches and pets. After getting here he practically had been getting them nonstop from just about everyone. With no one petting him I guess he now wanted me to pet him, and he nudged me less after I pet him. There’s also plenty of foliage here. I think Bossa Nova is getting spoiled here. I hope he’ll be okay with leaving when I’m done here.
I found Amali calling out for Kheel. She had gone missing and Amali was searching around the whole village. Though things are much safer, the Yiga have been around attacking people.
Teba and I had been using them in training as targets. I understand it’s to protect everyone in the village, but… I feel nauseous seeing the bodies pile up.
I offered to search outside the village for Kheel.
She was at Warbler’s Nest. She wants to finally have singing practice with her sisters but they refuse to go and she refuses to leave till they join her. I told her that if she had to practice here I or some other warrior should be there. It seems she doesn’t know about the Yiga. I thought about explaining the situation to her but I shouldn’t scare her, what if she becomes too scared to leave the village even when it is safe. I tried telling her there were other dangerous creatures around like wolves, but she still refused. She didn’t need to practice here every day, but it had been so long she at least wanted to sing here just once. I told her that I wanted to hear their singing and didn’t want to miss a thing, so I asked her if she’d please come with me to find her sisters so I could hear their recital practice.
First Kheel and I checked back home and found Genli at the cooking pot, she wanted to do some cooking and had sent some of the others to help her collect some missing ingredients while she prepared. She did tell us where she thought some of the others would be at like the store and such.
When we were searching Amali spotted us and was relieved to see us back safely. She told Kheel it was still too dangerous to be out. I explained I’d be there to look after them, but Amali wasn’t happy. Apparently Teba had told her we were taking a break and told me I was to be resting, not fighting still. I explained the situation with my arm but that only got her to say that was even more reason to rest. She then sighed, saying I am an adult who could make choices for himself but she highly recommended that I return to the zora before my infections get worse and become more permanent, maybe even stay with them till I’m fully healed since all the Divine Beasts had been appeased now.
Even if I’m still fighting, for me, just staying here is a rest. Amali paused for a moment then so softly told me that whenever I needed a break I could always come back here. She then told me to go back to playing with my sisters as Kheel seemed to be getting impatient. She then got flustered noticing what she had said and apologized. In a lot of ways I am rather similar to Kass and with how I’m always with her daughters, playing with them and such whenever I returned from training with Teba I was like a big brother to them. Kass had spoken much of me before Amali and I had actually met, and the tales were so accurate, she felt like she had known me for much longer than we actually had, so in a way I felt somewhat like her own child as odd as it may sound. Especially with how Kass spoke of me in a similar way he had of their daughters.
When Amali and I were hugging Kheel joined in, confused but didn’t want to be left out. I promised her I’d be more careful and that I’d go see the zora doctors soon and return better than ever. Amali said that when I come back, I should bring my boyfriend so she and everyone else could meet him, though with Kass’ many tales of Sidon he sounded like a great person. I think Sidon would like that and I told her I’d see what I could do.
Cree was buying goat butter. Notts was supposed to be helping but seems she wasw slacking off and Knotts was out fishing. I had to do a bit of climbing to reach her, but we found her on her stone perch and she joined us in our search. Knotts was very close to the village, on one of the pillars which were connected by bridges, there’s a little lake on one of them and there we did some spear fishing to get a hearty salmon. They said I fish funny; I didn’t think spear fishing could differ so much from zoras and rito but I suppose like fighting it can surprisingly be very different.
We all returned to the kitchen to cook with Genli. We made Salmon Meuniere, and it’s delicious! They wanted to make seconds but I convinced them not too so we wouldn’t spoil our appetite for dinner.
On they way to Warbler’s Nest they rode on Bossa Nova’s back, constantly giving him pets which I think he was very pleased with.
After some practice they asked me if I sang too. As far as I could remember I didn’t think I ever tried. They… didn’t seem too pleased with the result. I’m now their pet project of sorts. They want to teach me so I can become a great singer and serenade “The fish prince”. It’s common practice to sing to win someone’s heart and they wanted to help me with my relationship with Sidon. They said cooking was good but since I travel so much, I need to do more like their dad who sings a lot for their mom and them. They then got the bright idea of getting Kass to teach me, since we both have deeper voices than them and maybe someone with a slightly more similar range to me could help more. They pushed and pulled me all the way back to the village and demanded that Kass teach me. This whole affair was kind of embarrassing, but… the thought of singing for Sidon is nice.
After practice I assisted Amali in the kitchen again. Many of the Rito dishes involve a meat of some kind and I think many of them would be good for traveling, maybe not the fish meat pie, but many of the other ones seem like they could work like the Salmon Meuniere.
Kass and I did some chatting after dinner. He asked me it this is what it’s always like when in stay in a place after appeasing the Divine Beast, all the training I had been doing. I told him it differs from place to place, but this time… all I have left is finding the Master Sword and Defeating the Calamity and I want to make sure I’m ready. I told him staying in places is more like today, learning something, entertaining children, just… living here, and training to be a warrior is a big part of living here, though I had been training to excess lately and I told him I’d probably be letting up on it. Kass told me it was a good idea, I did so much fighting already and even if the art was my one true love, too much of anything was never good.
We just chatted, I’ve just chatted with others before, but this just felt especially nice. I wonder if it’s just Kass being Kass or what Amali had told me before, but I just really liked this. Maybe it was the soft playing of his accordion when we hadn’t talked for a while, just watching the sunset.
I asked Kass what he was going to do if I defeated the Calamity. Kass told me he’d still be searching for ancient songs. Even if I completed my task, that didn’t mean his job was done, and being a bard is his life, he’s not just doing it because of a dead man’s wish, like me and my journey.
Kass paused for a moment telling me he still didn’t have a song for Revali but he did have a song for someone else, the hero from a hundred years ago. Kass told me that though I can’t remember much his master was there when the Calamity had struck and met the old, dead me. Kass told me of how his teacher had loved Zelda but she had clearly fallen for someone else, the dead hero, and that likely colored this song, but even with jealousy he believed the hero would return and poured that belief into a song. It was still something that could possibly shed some light on my fogged memories even if heavily warped by another impression of that man.
“An ancient hero, a Calamity appears, Now resurrected after ten thousand years. Her appointed knight gives his life, shields her figure, and pays the price. The princess’ love for her fallen knight awakens her power/And within the castle the Calamity is forced to cower. But the knight survives! In the Shrine of resurrection he sleeps, until from his healing dream he leaps! For fierce and deadly trials await. To regain his strength. Fulfill his fate. To become a hero once again! To wrest the princess from evil’s den. The hero, the princess-hand in hand-Must bring the light back to this land.”
Kass asked me if the song had helped any. I… feel something tugging at the back of my mind, but I can’t seem to quite reach it. I know there was something bright, but… nothing else. But the song, I died protecting Zelda? Kass told me his teacher had witnessed it. And it was as Kass had explained before, his Teacher wanted to help and seek out the ancient songs of the hero long past to help me, and after he died Kass took on his wish. Kass said that it was too bad the hero would never return. After all he died saving the princess. He knows, he learned of my past when I had my panic attack, when he had me read through my journal with him. He knows, but… it’s like back in the Zora’s Domain now. He did however tell me that should I meet the princess I should give her my condolences for being a different person, her knight gone, and if she lives, to try to let her down easy about Sidon and I. I asked him if it was a shock to find out when I was panicking. He told me he had a suspicion ever since we solved that deer puzzle together, so he wasn’t surprised. He then started giving advice. Talking about grieving, how he had tried to deal with his feelings about his teacher passing, someone like family to him. About working with your worries, being so scared about the people you care about when traveling. About getting stuck in your head when you have no one else to talk too, one piece of advice that really struck me was speaking aloud to yourself, even just hearing the words not just in your head can make quite a difference. About how to deal with the deathly loneliness all that plus traveling through such barren landscapes on your own can bring.
Kass asked me if I could do a favor for him. He just wants to see me one last time before I set off to fight the Calamity, share a day with him and Amali and his daughters if I could. He said it might be a selfish wish, but to place his own heart at ease before I go fight the thing, he wanted to see I was prepared and felt ready to do so, maybe by then he’d have a song all of his own for me, he had a lot of material to work with after all.
Kass just pulled me into a hug when I started crying. I thanked him and told him I’d be happy to and that I was just happy to be here with everyone. He told me he was happy too.
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(care to share your dnd iliad au, asking for a friend <.< )
yes absolutely. it came to me after I finished the song of Achilles and has haunted me since.
my friends characters are Hector and Paris, respectively. this is because one is a big strong dragonboy and one is a bard. also because of the premise of my campaign them being favored by multiple gods makes a lot of sense. you’d think I’d want them to be Achilles or Patroclus but nah, plus I think it’s more likely they would steal someone’s wife and cause a war.
And I also overanalyze everything, but here specifically it’s Hector and Paris’s relationship as brothers. Hector is incredibly pious and honorable, and yet he defends his brother who is cowardly and straight up stole another man’s wife. There has to be some level of familial love if Hector is willing to fight and die in a war caused by his brother’s own selfish desires. And I think that reflects on both characters well. Like just in our session today, Ragna (fighter pc) straight up drop kicked an npc just because he was being mean to Frog (bard pc). That familial love that persists between them despite their differences, I truly think Ragna would fight in a war of Frog’s own making. Would he give him shit for it? Oh absolutely. But would he fight till his last breath, in an effort to protect Frog and his decisions? definitely. And likewise, when Paris kills Achilles, it is an act of revenge. There is no doubt in mind, that he is blinded by grief and rage and the loss and desecration of his brother. And Frog would absolutely do the same with no remorse.
Their relationship as brothers is the focal point that I almost entirely ignore the actual plot of the illiad (Achilles and Agamemnon’s fight and the war) and just think about how funny it is that Ragna would call Frog a coward and it would hurt Frog’s feelings so much he would try to fight the dude who’s wife he stole who is leagues beyond him. like a bard trying to win a sword fight. no wonder Aphrodite has to swoop in and save him.
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to say the truth (or lose his love)
Fandom: The Witcher
Also on AO3
Part 1 of the to say the truth (or lose his love) series
General Audiences / No Archive Warnings Apply
In order to fulfil his contract, Geralt has to either kiss his true love, or find the Faery Queen's lost son. He assumes the latter will be easiest.
Jaskier had been feeling antsy for almost the entire day now. He didn't exactly know when it started, but as he looked at the apple Geralt had handed him in lieu of lunch, he suddenly realised that his insides were shaking and he was not at all hungry.
“There's a town three hours north.” Geralt announced as Jaskier was contemplating the implications of his ever-growing anxiety.
"Ah! Lovely! An actual bed to sleep in tonight!” He tried to measure his voice, but he knew Geralt could hear the artificiality of it. He had never been a very good actor.
As they travelled in uncharacteristic silence, Jaskier's antsy feelings only grew and grew. Instead of becoming louder, as he usually did when he was nervous, he turned almost as quiet as the stoic Witcher himself.
“You okay bard?”
“What? Oh! Just looking at these beautiful trees, and all those-” Jaskier’s voice broke as he suddenly realised that alongside the path grew "buttercups." Fuck.
“You sure you're okay?”
“I'm sure!" Jaskier was sure he was not okay, and he did not know who he was trying to get to believe otherwise.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Fae.” Geralt grumbled before the bard could even ask what the new contract was. "Been stealing the grain. Poisoning the cattle. The mayor's wife is about to give birth, they're fearing a changeling.”
“Aha.” Jaskier just replied. “Are you waiting till tomorrow?”
“Sun’s still up for another few hours. Might as well try to find them now.”
“Yes. Right. Well. I'll just. Wait here for you to come back. Don't step in any circles, okay?”
And off the bard went, waving his lute questioningly at the innkeeper. Geralt rose an eyebrow, surprised that Jaskier hadn't insisted on coming along, as he usually did. Not that he minded. When the little town's mayor had told him about the village’s problems, Geralt had dreaded the prospect convincing Jaskier to stay behind almost as much as he was dreading fulfilling the contract. Not that he was going to complain, dealing with those damned Fae would be enough of a bother without the ever-blabbering Jaskier digging himself into holes he would not be able to climb out of. Still, weird. The sharp smell of anxiety hadn’t left the bard since early that morning, and Geralt made a mental note to keep a closer eye on him. Just to make sure he stayed okay. Not because they were friends , but, well, Geralt couldn’t imagine that an anxious bard could earn a lot of coin. And winter was coming up, and Geralt wasn’t so heartless as to leave Jaskier for the winter without any sort of security that the man would be okay. Not that he spent his time in Kaer Morhen worrying about the bard. No, they weren’t even friends.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The Fae were not hard to find. Geralt had stumbled upon the first circle less than half an hour after leaving the village, meaning they had been living there for longer than the mayor had insinuated. Which also, Geralt realised, meant it would be more difficult to make them leave. He grunted and grabbed one of the sugar cubes he usually reserved for Roach, tossing it into the grass in the middle of the circle of blooming dandelions. A voice like the softest bells immediately replied.
“Witcher! Our Queen has been expecting you!”
Their Queen. That explained the proximity to the village. If the Court was big enough that it was ruled by a Queen rather than a Lady, it was properly able to defend itself against angry, overconfident villagers.
“What an honour,” Geralt grunted sarcastically.
“She's straight ahead,” the little fairy, a tiny green thing, pointed. “Take a right at the Oak, she's waiting near the buttercups.”
The creature said the final word as if they were supposed to mean something to him. He supposed they did. The bard's clothes always had a buttercup pattern. Not that he had been staring at the bard, no. He had just noticed it whilst repairing one of Jaskier's doubles. Just to stop his whining, not because he cared. He was just a nuisance, making his life more difficult every step of the way.
Ignoring the fairy's pointed look and carefully manoeuvring around the circle, Geralt made his way to the promised Queen.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“You're back early! I don't suppose the Fae were incredibly forthcoming and ready to move immediately?” There almost seemed to be hope in the bard's voice.
“No.” He sighed. “They want payment.”
“Of course they do. And surely they weren't as forthcoming as to actually tell you what they want?”
“Wait what?” the surprise in Jaskier's voice was genuine. “Since when does m- a Fae Queen clearly state what she wants? That makes it suspiciously easy.”
“How did you know there was a Queen?”
“What did she want? Honey? Fish? Coin?" Jaskier pointedly ignored the question.
“True love's kiss.”
“What.” Geralt almost wished he could have a painting made of the stunned look on the bard’s face. Just because it looked so funny, not because it made the bright blue eyes stand out gorgeously, not because it emphasised the beautiful curve of the young man’s eyebrows, not because- Geralt quickly shook his head.
“She wants me to kiss my true love. Or, alternatively, she wants me to deliver her son home.”
“Ah. So. Great, I'll- I'll go get my stuff. Leave you to- to find Yennefer.”
“Why would I try to find Yennefer?”
“You just said 'true love'?”
The Witcher rolled his eyes. “Yennefer is not my true anything. Now, did you see any suspicious adult men here during your performance?”
“Did I what now?”
Geralt started humming.
“Geralt! Are you singing?! And not even one of my songs?”
“Sh! I’m trying to remember...” And, to Jaskier’s flabbergasted surprise, the Witcher started to softly sing.
“Twenty years he’s come and gone, in winters lies he here.
But now, my child, the time is come, for him he holds so dear
to say the truth, or lose his love, the lute will let you see
my son, at last, should travel home with him he loves or me,
to him he loves or me. ”
Jaskier stared at him, eyes and mouth wide open. “You can sing.”
“That’s not the point, Jask-”
“You. Can. Sing!” The bard now truly sounded offended. “And you say that’s not the point? Geralt, How many times have I tried to get you to sing along with my songs? My ballads? And not even just in public! You refused to sing when we were sitting next to a campfire gods knows where-”
“I have to say Geralt, if I knew it took a meeting with m- with a Fae to get you to sing I would have-”
“Your lute,” Geralt interrupted. “The lute should reveal the fairy prince. Did you see anyone strange whilst I was gone?”
“You can sing.”
“Anyone in the audience? Jaskier, please.”
“Nobody in the audience looked out of the ordinary, Geralt. And I doubt that the fairy prince would calmly stop to listen to music so near to his mother’s court.”
“The Queen said that she knew her son was in the village. We have to ask around, see if anyone here disappears during winters. That must be something people notice.”
“You’d be surprised,” Jaskier laughed, and Geralt couldn’t help but detect a bit of bitterness in the bard’s voice. “But if you’re so insistent, I’ve been asked to perform again when everyone has put their children to bed. So you can sit there and endlessly wait till your medallion starts vibrating or whatever, but I am pretty sure it won’t. There will be no fairy princes in the audience tonight.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
There were no fairy princes in the audience that night. Instead of staying hidden in the shadows, Geralt had wandered through the inn during Jaskier’s performance, carefully observing the guests. He had spoken with the innkeeper, the mayor, a few women who were all too willing to gossip about the ins and outs of everyone in the village, but he had heard nothing that could help. He kept thinking about the words the Queen had sung. The time had come for someone to say the truth? Who? The person the prince held dear? The prince himself? And why would the prince lose that person if the truth wasn’t spoken? He stared blankly as Jaskier carefully wiped the lute down, inspecting it for any potential damages. The lute will let you see.
“Oh, are you done brooding?”
“I need to borrow your lute.”
“Wait, are you telling me you cannot only sing, but also play? Twenty years we have been travelling together, twenty long years and-”
“Not to play. To see.”
“Listen Geralt, if you don’t know the difference between glasses and an instrument I don’t know what to-”
“The song, Jaskier. It says the lute will let me see the prince, so maybe I have to hold the lute.”
The bard looked at him doubtfully.
“I won’t let any harm befall it. I know how important it is for you, Jaskier. I promise I won’t damage it. I will protect it like- Like I protect Roach.”
“Fine. But if you-”
“If something happens to it, I will do everything in my power to repair or replace it. I swear.”
“Good.” Jaskier bit his lip. “And make sure you return it before dinner. This is a well-paying crowd.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Geralt felt like a fool, wandering through the village holding Jaskier’s lute. It didn’t help that the lute wasn’t helping. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, nobody knew of anyone disappearing during winters, and, as far as he could track, there were no secret lovers either. So he did the only thing he could think of, and, lute in hand, walked back into the forest.
This time it took even less to find the fairy Queen. She seemed to be waiting for him, unsurprised that he came alone.
“You brought the lute.”
Geralt nodded. “I am sorry, your highness, but I have been unable to find your son. If you could but tell me how he looks li-”
“Give it to me.”
“The lute. Give it to me.”
“It is not mine to give.”
The Queen smiled and waved her hand. “Don’t worry, Witcher, I know how much it means to the one it belongs to. He will get it back.” Geralt just looked at her. “He will get it back, whole, undamaged, in the exact state as it is now, before sunset.” the Queen specified. “I mean no harm to your bard.”
“He’s not my-”
“The lute, Witcher.”
Geralt sighed and, carefully not to enter the circle, handed the lute to the brown-haired lady.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
She did not break it. She did not enchant it, or cut its strings, or anything else. Instead, she played. One of Jaskier’s songs, Geralt recognised it. Not that he listened to the bard when he played, he tried to tune it out most of the time, but it wasn’t like he was completely able to avoid hearing the endless stream of music that joined him every place he went. After that song was done she played another, and another, and another. All of them written by Jaskier. She did not sing, though some of her servants would hum the occasional line or dance along.
It was getting late when Geralt spoke again. “You are a talented player, Lady, but I promised I would return this instrument to its owner before dinnertime. I could fetch you another lute from the village, if you want?” He knew from experience that even slightly antagonising a Fae court would make his task of getting them to leave exponentially more difficult.
“Ah, no, I think I like this lute better. It carries memories, you know,” she replied, continuing to play. Geralt was surprised at how suspiciously amiable this entire contract had gone. Any other Fae would have deviously tried to trick him by now, or forcibly dragged him into the circle. “Besides, the lute is not yours. I will return it to him who owns it.”
“You want me to fetch Jaskier.”
“Oh, there is no need for that. He is already on his way. He is pretty pissed, Witcher.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The moment the words left the Queen’s mouth, Geralt heard the distant footsteps of the bard. He indeed sounded angry, but, as Jaskier came closer, Geralt noticed he smelled more of fear than of fury. Geralt frowned. Jaskier was never afraid. Sure, he would be scared of husbands he cuckolded, or the monsters Geralt fought, but never scared like this.
“What the fuck, Geralt. I lend you my lute, you promised you would keep it safe, and you hand it over to someone else? A Fae Queen? Are you mad? Are you short of a few marbles? A few thousand marbles, perhaps?”
“Hello, Julian.” The Queen said, before Geralt could say anything in defence of his actions. “You know I won’t ever let any harm come to your instrument.”
“I know m- I know. But he didn’t!”
“I promised him I would not harm the instrument, and I promised that you would have it back by sunset. He had no reason not to give the lute to me.”
“He still should not have. Give it back.”
“Come and get it.”
“Why now? Why like this?”
“It’s been twenty years, Julian. It’s time. And since you refuse to do it, I am forcing your hand. He has to know. You’re being unfair to him by keeping silent. He will discover someday, anyway. You have to make a choice, either reveal it now, voluntarily, or I will force you.”
“Fine.” And before Geralt could say anything, before he could step forward, grab Jaskier and drag him away, Jaskier stepped headfirst into the fairy circle and grabbed his lute from the Queen's outstretched hand.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
He didn’t die. Or faint. Or grow old rapidly. Jaskier just stood there, next to the Fae Queen, cradling his lute, and nothing changed. Geralt blinked. That was not true. Something did change. He became a little taller. His ears were a little bit more pointy. His smile a little wider, and everything about him became more regal than any king Geralt had ever seen.
“What. The. Fuck, Jaskier.”
“Geralt,” the bard said, with a mocking bow, “meet my mum. Mum, Geralt. Though you already knew that.” He stepped out of the circle, still firmly clutching his lute, and Jaskier became, well, Jaskier again. Not that he had ever not been Jaskier, but still.
Geralt just stared.
“I am sorry Geralt, I wanted to tell you, I really did, but I didn’t know you, and then Filavandrel gave me this lute, and- and I just sort of started following you, and- You never even admitted I was your friend! The only time we ever talked about Fae you just told me you thought all of them were cheating bastards!” Geralt winced. “Yennefer never told you? I am sure she knew. And- I mean, I never aged! We have been travelling for two decades and I still look as young as when we first met! Do you mean to tell me you never noticed?”
“I thought- Your salves and-”
“Those can’t completely stop someone from ageing! I-” Jaskier’s voice suddenly went from exasperated to really quiet. “I’m sorry. I’ll go grab my stuff from the inn. Don’t worry, I’ll make sure no Fae will ever harm you. I- I’ll see you in a bit, mum.” And with those words, Jaskier turned away and left.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“He did want to tell you, you know.” The Queen’s voice sounded from behind him. “He was just afraid of losing you. I hoped this would give you two a push in the right direction, but it seemed like I was wrong.”
“Jaskier’s a faery?”
“Jaskier is my son. He is High Prince of the Summer Court, and will inherit my throne in a couple of centuries.”
“Centuries? He is immortal?”
“As long as he doesn’t get himself into too much trouble, yes, he is.”
“Jaskier’s immortal. He won’t die.” Geralt stared in the direction the bard had disappeared in as his brain and heart rapidly embraced feelings had refused to acknowledge for the past twenty years.
“He has lived for over six hundred years, and he will live at least another ten times that.”
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
By the time he arrived at the inn, Jaskier had already packed his belongings and was saying goodbye to Roach. “Jaskier!”
“I’m sorry Geralt.”
“I love you.”
There was a loud twang as Jaskier’s prized lute hit the ground.
“I love you. And I didn’t tell you, and I didn’t tell myself, and- I thought you would die, Jaskier! I thought you would die, and leave me here, and it was easier just to pretend I didn’t like you than to admit it and see you grow old and leave-” Geralt’s words were cut off as the bard’s, his bard’s, lips hit his. The smell of flowers, the taste of honey, the soft touch of Jaskier’s hand on his cheek- It was beautiful and gorgeous and real.
“You don’t hate me? For keeping this secret so long?”
Geralt just shook his head and kissed.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The village’s cattle were safe, in the end. So was the harvest, and the mayor’s child, or any other baby born, for that matter. The Witcher had fulfilled his contract and received his coin, and by the time a young Oxenfurt graduate passed through the village singing a song of a white-haired Witcher and his Faery love, the people had long forgotten about their own encounter with the White Wolf of Rivia. It was not like they could know that every winter, Kaer Morhen bloomed wild with tiny, yellow flowers. Or that, every summer solstice, the Fae Queen’s celebrations were attended by a witcher. Or that, for many, many, many years to come, a humble bard and a friend to humanity, with rings on their fingers, would travel the Continent, never leaving the other’s side.
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The Blacksmith’s Daughter
Pairing: Geralt X Reader
Word count: 3,259
Warnings: Swearing, slight dirty talk, mentions of death, gross wound
Summary: The blacksmiths daughter in the upper northern kingdoms, is the only reason Geralt of Riva trusts to not only fix his weaponry but his wounds. He travels long and far to see the half mage, every year. During the many years he comes to visit her town, she grows feelings (love like feelinsg) for the creature. one particular visits she realizes she can no longer hide these feelinsg from him. [possibe part 2 if interested]
My father only had one child before my mother died. My mother was someone he always referred to as his soul. The light of his life. She died when I was just a babe. He never remarried, saying he’d never disrespect the love of his life. My mother was a mage. The healer of our village. Her powers passed in some aspects down to myself, but not enough to be considered a full mage. I gained the ability for immortality like my mother, unless by blade or beast. My eyes were different from those around my small town, bright emerald green. My father loved my eyes; “Just like you lovely mother my deer.” He always said to me.
Even with the limited magical abilities I possessed I chose to help my father in his smithing shop. I started when I was 16 that was nearly 30 winters ago. I haven’t aged much past 24. Making all the locals continuously fight for my hand. My father never wavered tho. Knowing I wanted to marry for love.
Over the last 30 years I've become one of the most well known smiths in the upper northern kingdoms. I've been called upon to make weapons for the mightiest King’s, even the Lioness Calanthe herself. My blades were well known across most major cities. I had apprenticed many young men to help and the money I began to bring in, made it able for my father to retire about 10 winters ago. My craft did not only extend in my weaponry but also my herbal skills. I was responsible for training the town healers and herbalists. My mother's talents passed onto me. I was a force to be reckoned with.
“Y/N?” My youngest apprentice, Apollo called to me from the front of my shop. Placing the sword I had been sharpening on a shelf I walked to him. I was covered in soot and dirt, my long [hair color] hair resting in a messy bun atop my head. My hands were covered in thick leather gloves that my father crafted for me many years ago to protect my fragile hands. As I approached the window that my customers spoke to my workers threw I saw a man. He was tall, much taller than myself and even Apollo. Apollo was a strong young man, about 6 '1 a decent build, still looked like a boy. But this man made him look like a child. His shoulders were broad and his hair was a striking silvery grey. I knew who he was, all too well.
“Ahh Geralt of Rivia. I thought you were long dead.” My words were followed with a soft chuckle, as the corner of his lips twitched up in a small smirk. His Bard at his side beamed at me.
“Good evening Y/N. How wonderful to see you!” Jaskier said smiling. I took my gloves off my hands along with my messy apron, glancing at Apollo. He’d never met the famed witcher before.
“Apollo be a dear and go finish with Lord Ferdinand's items. He’ll be back soon to collect them.” He nodded his head before walking back to the forge along with my other two apprentices. I opened the small door to the side of the window and stepped about of my shop, the cool Autumn air chilling my warm skin after being over a hot forge for hours.
Jaskier was the first to approach me, bringing me into a tight embrace. I gladly returned the gesture. I pulled back to examine the bard.
“My how you still have yet to age. Always shocks me.” He laughs and pulls out his prized dagger. He had won it in a game of poker many years ago from a lord. The blade alone cost more than anything he possessed. He didn't need the protection. Due to the brooding witcher he always traveled with. I had mended it and only I had mended it. He never trusted another with his blade. Just as his counterpart.
“It's in need for a good sharpening, maybe a polish to the handle? As always you’ll be paid for with not only my coin, but my recommendations as we travel.” I smiled and took the dagger from him and placed it in my belt before tuning to the brooding witcher.
The relationship we shared was like one I didn't share with any other. When he came through my town, I not only fixed and mended his weaponry but also his wounds. I was no longer an active healer. Unless it was for one particular witcher with a pair of striking golden orbs that could pear into the depths of my soul. He could pry out any secrets I never told anyone. Even my father.
My father loved Geralt. Always made comments about how I should pursue him whenever he came to town. Foolish old man thinking a witcher of Geralt’s status stopping for a blacksmith's daughter. Even one of my caliber. Many years ago he traveled with a mage named Yennifer, I adored her when she came with him. An adoring young thing, always willing to teach me new ways in medicine.
They were lovers for many years until they drifted apart. Yennefer found love in her first mate Istredd. They married a few years ago. Occasionally Yennifer would pass through and we’d catch up over a pint of ale, and she'd tell me of her travels looking for a cure to her empty womb. I pitied the woman, she desperately wanted children.
Knowing women of Yennifer’s caliber were who Geralt went for always made me hesitate from telling him my true feelings. I had fallen madly in love with the witcher. He stayed weeks at a time some years in my town, killing monsters in closer towns and being our own personal Witcher. The townspeople loved him, contrary to many other villages and cities.
“How many wounds am I healing today, wolf?” I asked as I approached him, his small smirk formed into a genuine smile as he embraced me. My arms around his broad shoulders as he bent to hug me. I could feel him grimace under my touch as my chest pressed to his own. I pulled away with a soft frown before lifting his shirt softly. Revealing a large deep gash spreading from his upper chest to his pant line. The gash was angry, yellow pus now oozy in certain areas. My brows lifted on my forehead in shock.
“You bloody idiot. How long has this gone untreated?” I asked quite harshly as I walked back into my shop, gathering my cloak and notebook full of orders to fill. I placed Jaskiers Dagger on a shelf.
“I’ll see you lads tomorrow, don’t forget to lock up tonight. Send for me if you need it.” I called my three workers in the back who all smiled and nodded before refocusing on their tasks.
I walked back out to the two men who were waiting for me. I shot a glare at Jaskier. “You let him walk around with an infection like that ?” I snapped as we started walking to the edge of town, passing the tavern and inn they both had spent many nights in.
“He refused to see anyone other than you, we’ve been traveling to see you for three consecutive days.” I directed my glair to the witcher who had a sly smirk on his lips.
“It's not that bad you drama queen.” I scoffed at his words before reaching over and brushing my fingertips along the cufeather-light. He hissed in pain and nearly doubled over.
“Yeah not that bad. You idiot loaf.” We walked at a quick pause up a small road from the main, up to my small cabin on the outskirts of the forest. I opened the door placing down my belongings before, sitting Geralt down on a chair in my kitchen. Jaskier on the other side, his hands on the book that had set there that I read in the mornings.
I rushed around my kitchen grabbing the herbs and viles full of oils and serums. I grumbled to myself at the stupidity of the witcher while I filled a pail with clean water. “Shirt off.” It wasn't a question or anything he could argue with. I knew he wouldn’t. I could hear his grunts of pain as he peeled his black shirt off. Once the pail was full of water I grabbed a box full of fresh wrapping and set everything on the table as Jaskier read unbothered.
I crouched in front of Geralt, my fingers tracing the angered skin surrounding the gash. I inhaled deeply, the scent of the wound filling my nose. It was badly infected but nothing I couldn't fix.
“Werewolf?” I asked, knowing I was right. The smell of the wolf’s claws being the first I could smell.
“Yeah, a real fucker too. Nearly broke my blade.” He hissed, In part of his anger at his last hunt, and due to the stinging of the alcohol I had poured on the clean cloth dabbing and cleaning the wound. His muscles contracted under my touch. I sighed but continued my work, spreading a lavender oil over the outside of the gash, soothing the skin. I grabbed a jar scooping out a helping of a cream made of hemlock and musk mallow to help the infection. After a thick paste was covering the gash I placed a few pieces of gauze over it keeping it protected. Once I was finished I looked up at the witcher, who was watching me intently. His amber eyes are boring into my emerald ones.
“I suggest you stay here a few days, till you’re healed more. So I can keep an eye on that infection.” I said with a soft smile. He grabbed a pack off his hip and placed three coins on my table, making me shake my head.
“Geralt, keep it I-“
“You just used so many fucking things on me. Take the money. Replenish your stock.” I rolled my eyes taking the coin from the table and putting it in my pocket, knowing I’d be giving it to the needy in town. I had plenty.
Jaskier placed the book he was reading down and smiled.
“Know that the broot is no longer dying, care to get some ale?” He asked, making me laugh.
“Let me see your sword first.” I was the only person on this plant that he allowed to touch that beloved sword. He pulled it from its sheath and handed it to me. I looked over the blade, seeing the dullness, and how fragile the silver was.
“Lucky for you, we replenish our silver last week, I have plenty to fix this blunt blade.” I placed the sword back in its sheath before placing it on a hook on my door. I walked back over to Geralt, taking his chin in my hand making him look up at me from his seated position.
“If you ever come to me with an infection like that again. I will kill you instead of heal you.” My threats fell flat, I knew that. He chuckled softly before kissing my hand softly.
“Thank you, my dear, Y/N. I already feel better.” I smiled softly and looked over at Jaskier who was just watching with an exasperated expression. He knew we had a weird relationship and truly couldn’t understand why we never became anything more than friends.
“How about that ale?” He said after clearing his throat. I nodded, grabbing his shirt from the floor and helping it back over his head. The men left their items in my home after I insisted they stay with me instead of going to the inn. And we were on our way to the bustling tavern. Filed with laughing people celebrating the end of the week with the sweet peach ale our town was best known for. Geralt and Jaskier found a table as I went to thbarkeep.
“Ahh Y/N!! How are you, my dear?” He asked as he filed the tankers with the cold bubbly ale.
“Quite well August thank you. Hope your ax is doing better?” I asked, speaking of the ax I had fixed for him less than a month ago.
“Oh works wonderfully!” He smiled sweetly at me passing me the tankers and I pulled out the coin but he held his hand out.
“First rounds on the house.” I smiled and nodded at the man grabbing the tankers turning my back to him and walking back to the two men I left. As I approached I saw Annabel. A quite permisquess young thing, not that it was my business what she did with her body, all over Geralt. I felt envy course, threw my body as she groped his chest. I saw his face contort in pain as she brushed her hand down his chest, and he gently pushed her back, but of course, she didn't get the message. I walked up behind her, setting the ale on the table firmly before taking her wrist in my hand spinning her to face me.
“He is hurt, a massive gash, infected puss all over the bandages. Stop. Touching.” My voice was harsh as I glared at the young woman. Her head dropped as she walked away from me in a hurry. I let out a huff as I sat next to Geralt. I could almost feel his smirk as he looked at me. I lifted the tanker to my lips sipping the sweet ale as did Jaskier who was also smiling at me.
“I'll stab your eyes out of your head if you keep looking at me like that Bard.” I spat and he rolled his eyes standing with the ale in his hand looking over at a group of young women.
“I’m going to party, but now I’m also leaving you two alone too” He pointed his free hand in between the two of us, “figure out what the hell you are. Don't wait up.” He left us as he walked to the group of women ready to brag about his adventures with the feared witcher. My cheeks were warm at his words, as I gulped down more of the ale, ignoring Geralt’s persistent gaze as he drank his ale.
“Any idea what Jaskier may be talking about, dove?” He asked, his arm now draped around my chair, his fingers brushing my arm lightly.
“Don't get any smart ide,as Witcher, you're in no place to fuck with a wound like that.” I didn't look at him.
“No one said anything about fucking dove.” That godforsaken nickname made my nipples harden. And my cunt moisten. I finally turned to him, he was inches away from my face. His ale is now on the table. His hand gently cupped my face.
“I’m serious. Even if I wanted to, you cant. It could break the scabs forming.” I couldn't help but lean into his warm rough calloused hand. My hands were similar in feel due to my craft.
“I never mentioned fuking dove, but if you really wanted to. You’d be my first pick.” His lips were inches from mine. My breathing became more erratic at his words, my heartbeat was quickening. He chuckled softly. Inhaling deeply.
“I can not only hear your heart but smell your arousal, my love.” I bit my lip softly and closed my eyes gently. I wanted to, more than anything. But I couldn't just fuck him and ignore the love I felt for the man.
“You’ll leave soon Geralt. And my heart cannot handle it.” It was now or never. I pulled back a little looking in his eyes. “I've been in love with you for many many years. You coming threw and staying when you do is the happiest I am all year, but I know you do not feel the same. I can't fuck you and then watch you leave. You may leave now and never speak-“ I didn't even have the chance to finish my rambling because his lips were pressed to mine. His hands now both on my cheeks. His lips were rough and tasted sweet. It lasted mere minutes. Before he pulled away.
“I will always come home to you, my dove. If you’ll have me.” He said with a smile. My heart was beating faster again. His hands were now holding my own.
“I've never been good with words, but there is a reason I only trust you to tend to my wounds and my swords. You are not just another woman to me. I need you in my life. If you’ll have me, I'll always return to you after every hunt and If I’m needed far, you’ll come with me.” My eyes were welling with tears at his sweet words. It was all I ever wanted him to say. This time I pressed my lips to his. It was softer than before, longer. Full of more passion. More love than any kiss I had ever shared.
“I’ll always take you in your stupid bafoon.” He chuckled softly at my words and leaned back placing his arm around my shoulders again, his eyes scanning the crowd, landing on Jaskier who was singing his least favorite tune. But even the hated song couldn't damper the Witcher’s smile.
“You’ll now need to ask my father for his blessing if you plan to take me with you,” I whispered, nodding my head to the direction of where my father was seated, talking to his companions laughing and joking. Geralt cleared his throat and got to his feet, his fingers laced on my own. He led me through the crowd.
“Mr. Y/L/N?” Geralt asked, his shoulders pressed back as he stood behind my father, his hand not leaving my own. My father turned, saw our hands then the face of the man I was with.
“Geralt!! So good to see y, ou my boy!” He stood and patted Geralt's shoulder.
“How’s the hunt these days?”
“Very good sir, I um... actually have a question for you.” My father smiled and looked at me. Winking.
“What's that lad?” He asked.
“Can I have your blessing to take your daughter's hand in marriage?” I nearly choked on my own spit at his words. My heart is now hammering out of my chest. My cheeks bright red as I squeezed his hand. My father laughed and threw his hands in the air.
“Finally!! A more than worthy suitor for my dear daughter!” The men behind him cheered a few men in the bar looking over eyes burning into Geralt in jealousy.
“You are the only one for my daughter's dear boy. My dear wife Gladdis wouldn’t have been happier. You protect my daughter. With your life. And you have my blessing.” My father stuck his hand out and Geralt let go of mine to shake it.
“I’d die before a hair is harmed on her head, sir.” My father laughed.
“So it will be a wedding in the future! A round on me for everyone!!” The tavern cheered and my father hugged me, kissing my cheek before whispering, “I Told you,my dear. And you thought I was wrong.” I laughed softly and hugged him tightly. An arm wrapped around my hip. Jaskier cheered and started to play a tune on his lute. Geralt bent down his lips by my ear.
“I love you to the moon and back, dove.”
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Herding Wolves Chapter 1
Summary: It‘s early spring and Jaskier is looking to reunite with Geralt again when a white wolf with suspiciously amber eyes blocks his path.
The bard lets himself be dragged through the woods by an obviously cursed Witcher only to get the shock of his life when he is led to two other wolves. One of which is badly injured.
Decided to finally copy what I have of my fic onto tumblr, cause I’ve been posting fanart and stuff for it, so I might as well put the fanfic here too XD And it’s good posting practice
It’s also on AO3 if you wanna read it there.
The frost turning the streets into a slippery mess was slowly retreating, birds beginning to chirp merrily outside his window in the mornings, hoping to attract a mate. Spring was waking up the land like a soft kiss from a lover and with it Jaskier too became restless.
He had wintered in Oxenfurt as he was wont to do, relishing in the often bright minds of his students, the good wine and food. The sheer artistic chaotic energy that enveloped the city at all times helped to keep the melancholy at bay, which always seemed to creep up on him in the darkest hours of the year.
But now as the first leaves presented themselves on the trees Jaskier felt his energy levels rise. His fellow professors noticed, scoffing at him with amused smiles. Like a bird, they said. Ready to migrate back to the road for the summer. They didn‘t understand the appeal, but didn‘t begrudge him for his habits. He always brought a fresh wind to the academy, but would he stay too long they‘d probably have to throw him out the next window or something.
He was barely managable while subdued because of the cold. They didn‘t want to be around him when he was at his brightest, just knowing the academy would desolve into chaos in weeks if he ever decided to stay for the summer. Or burn down. Probably both.
So it was in everyones best interest that he left to search for his muse as soon as the roads were crossable again. And he went, singing and happily strumming his lute with a spring to his step that didn‘t disappear even after hours of walking.
Bright blue eyes shone as he took in the beauty around him, greedily soaking up the still rather weak rays of the sun. He travelled light as always and stopped in every village no matter the size, playing his songs and holding an ear out for rumors about a Witcher.
He travelled along the Pontar river, passing Rinde and was on his way to Murivel, when he once again had to set up camp in the wilderness.
Jaskier tried to avoid doing so whenever he wandered the roads alone. It was one thing sleeping in the open with a Witcher at his side, or even with a group of travellers. It was very much different when he was on his own. Much more dangerous, to be exact. Despite running after a Witcher for over ten years now he was still but a mere bard with only a lute and a dagger to defend himself.
Oh he was positively wicked with a dagger, that was for sure. And his lute was surprisingly sturdy (probably elven magic) and just as useful as a club as it was as an instrument. But both of these facts wouldn‘t protect him from a group of bandits or trained military men.
Or a pack of wolves for that matter.
Jaskier flinched when he heard the first howls, far too close for comfort. He had half a mind to pack his things and try his luck elsewhere, but it had already gone dark, the crackling fire the only reliable light source. So he could only sit there and hope the wild animals would shy away from the flames.
Once again he wished that he had the senses of his dear mutated friend. Being able to smell threats from a mile away was super convenient when having to set up camp in an unfamiliar forest.
Thankfully he hadn‘t encountered any beast while out foraging.
Trying to keep his racing heart under control he took the kettle away from the flames and poored himself a mug of strong herbal tea. A knack he had developed during his time lecturing in Oxenfurt. Damn he was getting old if he had already swapped his evening wine with tea. Frowning he tried to make out his face in the dark water and was debating if he should take out his small mirror to check for grey hairs, when something huge, white and furry jumped into the camp with barely a noise made.
Jaskier would forever deny the high squeak he let out. The mug went flying, watering the plants as the bard scrambled to his feet, grabbing his lute and holding it out in front of him like a sword.
The white wolf stood on the other side of the camp fire. It was huge, easily coming up to Jaskiers hip and it scowled at him as if he was offended by Jaskiers choice of weapon. It let out a low huff, the very picture of being unimpressed.
It was the familiar behavior, the golden eyes, but most importantly the obvious wolf medaillon that made Jaskier lower his impromptu weapon.
„Oh no, you don‘t get to look at me like that. You know my lute can pack a perfectly good punch. And has a longer range than my dagger. It‘s a perfectly sensible choice of weapon! And anyway you have no ground to criticise me given that I‘m the on currently with two opposable thumbs! What happened?“
He had placed his lute back on the ground and rounded the fire to get to his friend as he talked, not for a second leaving the beast out of sight. Sure it looked and behaved like Geralt, but that could very much also be a ruse. He would never hear the end of it if he accidently got mauled by an animal because he had mistaken it for his friend.
Letting the wolf sniff his hand first he only received a short warning growl when he carded his fingers through the thick fur. Jaskier smiled when he felt Geralt push into the touch afterwards, pointedly looking in the other direction. The attention of wandering hands searching for any injuries soon proofed to be too much however. Geralt danced away from him with a bark and scratched at the ground.
„Alright, alright no more touching. Sorry for being worried about you.“ Throwing his hands in the air he stood again.
The plan had been to go back to his bag and search for some leftover jerky for his friend, maybe play the lute afterwards and then in the morning start to puzzle out the mystery that was his wolf turned friend. But Geralt would have none of that as it seemed. He barked at him again, urgent, something like desperation in his tone. And when Jaskier only looked at him incomprehending the wolf bolted forward, snatching Jaskiers fine silk sleeve and pulled.
Jaskier bent over, caught off guard and off balance, not captured arm flaying around in an attempt to not face plant into the dirt.
The wolf barely gave him time to find his footing again, pulling again which forced Jaskier to take another step in the direction Geralt wanted him to go.
„Okay! I get it, I get it, you want to show me something. Can‘t it wait till morning, though? I can‘t see in the dark like you can, you know!“
A growl answered him. Geralt let go of his sleeve, instead circling him to be able to push him from behind.
„Fine! Demanding and rude as ever I see. Lead the way then.“
With the reassurance given that Jaskier would follow, the wolf shot off with a bark. „Geralt wait! Human eyes! I can‘t see shit!“
The glare that was sent his way whenever he stumbled over a root or nearly ran into a tree because of the effort to keep up made Jaskier want to hit the man turned animal. As if it was his fault that he couldn‘t see in the dark! Really, the nerve.
They, or rather Jaskier, stumbled through the night for what felt like hours. Together with the exhaustion that always came with a day of walking and the late hour the bard was starting to get downright cranky. Between heavy breaths (Geralt didn‘t deem it necessary to slow down for his handicapped companion) he voiced his displeasure, cursing everything from pushy Witchers, to crazy mages and weak human eye sight.
Until they reached a well hidden assembly of boulders, crumbled in a way that made for a natural overhang. Jaskier clicked his mouth shut suddenly not so sure anymore if the White Wolf at his side really was his Witcher friend. Was there a monster that could lure people out by disguising itself as cursed friends in need? If so that was a very stupid hunting strategy. Even if he had fallen for it.
The reason for his brief resurfacing of self-preservation instinct were the two wolves laying under the overhang. One was about as huge as Geralt and must have been some sort of lighter colour. Jaskier couldn‘t really tell if it was a shade of grey or brown. What he could tell was that the wolf was curled around another, smaller one that was definitely black as coal.
The White Wolf nudged him forward with a low whine. And as Jaskier let himself get pushed closer he saw the reason for the urgency. The black wolf was laying in a pool of blood, several arrows burried deep in his hide. Three cracked and knawed at ones lay not too far away. An indicator that his packmates had tried to wrench them out before looking for aid. The wounds that came from that wouldn‘t be a pretty sight, Jaskier was sure.
The wolf was puffing out air from wheezing lungs and that definitely didn‘t sound good either. Even with Witcher healing Jaskier understood that time was of the essence should a lung or other important organ have been hit.
Both foreign wolves tensed as Jaskier came closer and the bard halted in his steps as the bigger one of them rumbled a low warning growl. An answering, even louder and more impressive one came from Jaskiers side, followed by an exasperated bark.
The grey or brown one whined, snout pressing against the head of his injured pack mate, who was watching Jaskiers every move with a sort of wary resignation, ears held flat and tail tugged between his hindlegs.
It was a truly adorable yet sad sight and Jaskier didn‘t care anymore if these were Witchers or wild animals or monsters. He would help, if it was the last thing he did.
„It‘s alright. I‘m Geralts friend. You know the humble bard, who graced a ride along. You have to have heard my hit debut Toss a Coin somewhere in your travels!“ That earned him a rumble that sounded almost like a groan from the black one and an unimpressed stare from the greyish one. Which Jaskier decided to ignore. „I‘m here to help. As long as you promise not to bite my hand off when I‘m starting to treat that. Geralt? Be a dear and go back to my camp, bring me my bag, I‘ll make a fire in the meantime so I can see what I‘m doing. And Blacky?“ The black one outright snarled at him. „Oh prideful one, I see. We‘ll think about fitting names later. Anyway don‘t bleed out on me while I‘ll prepare everything, okay?“
His eyes had adjusted as best as possible to the meager light trickling into the forest from the stars and moon above. The circumstances weren‘t the best, but he had always had an affinity for fire, so this one was lit in no time. He kept up a running commentary while he worked, mostly to calm himself.
The two wolves didn‘t move, but kept watching him with their golden eyes and Jaskier was seriously doubting the soundness of his idea to send Geralt away. He didn‘t know these two. Heck he wasn‘t even entirely sure if they were really transformed Witchers or not.
Jaskier wanted to help. He really did. He also wanted to keep his hands and throat intact, though. He needed both for making noise! He couldn‘t just start whistling songs should some maw liberate him of his vocal cords. Not that he would be able to do even that should one of the wolves (probably the uninjured one) decide to rip out his throat. He‘d be dead then. And dead bards can‘t tell any tales whatsoever.
Despite these worries Jaskier inched towards the overhang and knelt down a few inches away from them once the fire was set. Close enough that he could touch the smallest ones flank, should he dare to stretch his arm out all the way.
In the firelight he was able to make out more. The uninjured wolf was mostly a dirty brown with a few darker streaks of fur here and there. He was scarred, three marks running down his face, twisting one side of his mouth into a permanent snarl. The other one was just as morbidly decorated. A fine vertical line trailing up and down one of his eyes. Not to mention the dozen scars only partly hidden by thick fur.
„Someone did quite a number on you, huh?“ Jaskier muttered, shuffling closer still and letting his hands hover over the wounds as he rattled off what damage he saw and what he would need to treat it. „You wouldn‘t happen to have one of your potion bags around? Would potions even work for you right now? What with the different build and all-“
The brown one sneezed at him, lifting his head enough to shake it before nosing at his injured companion again. Jaskier couldn‘t help but smile at the adorable sight.
„Right, no potions either way I presume that was what this was supposed to mean. Now-“
At that moment Geralt sprinted back into the camp again. How he could be so big and yet so silent was beyond the bard. But then that had been a mystery even before the man had been turned into an animal.
He had Jaskiers bag dangling between his teeth and trodded over, tail tugged low with barely concealed anxiety.
„Thank you. Now little wolf please don‘t bite my hand off. I‘ll have to remove the arrows and that will hurt.“
He waited after he said that. He had gotten another snarl at the new nickname, but after that the dark one swept his gaze over to Geralt, who had come to stand on Jaskiers right side, tense as a bowstring.
They were locked in some kind of staring contest, while the brown one shuffled nervously behind his kin. In the end Geralt won the arguement. The black one gave a low whine and settled, head facing away from Jaskier, yet his visible yellow eye watched every move.
Jaskier didn‘t need the nudge from his friend to understand that he was allowed to go on. He appreciated it nonetheless.
Pulling the arrows out was a horrible business, worse than cleaning and dressing the wounds afterwards. He warned the wolf in his care of each move he made, narrating the whole process in a low, soothing voice he usually only reserved for traumatized children or sleep deprived Witchers waking up from nightmares.
When all was said and done the adrenalin had left his system once and for all and his eyelids were drooping. The thought of trudging back through the dark to get to his bedroll, probably to get lost along the way, was not an option. So he flopped onto a grassy bit near the fire and let sleep claim him.
He wondered if the Witcher wolves would still be there in the morning.
Note: Gonna post a chapter every other day so as not to spam you guys until I’ve caught up to the AO3 version. Note that the fic is still ongoing. Current status: 7 chapters complete, chapter 8 in progress.
Feel free to leave prompts and I’ll see if I can work them into the story~
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Part 2 of the series ‘Jaskier has unexpected talents (and it is probably not what you are thinking)’ Link to ao3
1. Fire on tumblr/ on ao3
2. Wood on ao3
3. Pancakes on tumblr / on ao3
4. Nimble Fingers on tumblr / on ao3
“Why is Jaskier chopping wood?” Eskel asked Geralt, who was leaning against a doorway. They watched the bard, who was standing, legs slightly bend and a shoulder width apart, in a courtyard of Kaer Morhen, lifting a heavy axe above his head.
“No idea,” Geralt replied, “never seen him chop wood before.”
Geralt and Jaskier had arrived a week before and two days later the first snow had followed them up the rugged mountains. Today was uncharacteristically sunny. When one found a protected and windless spot outside, it nearly felt warm. The sun reflected on the sharply polished edge of the axe.
To Geralt’s astonishment none of the other witchers had been surprised when he brought the bard with him. And to his relief all the witchers, who were in most circumstances reserved towards humans, had been welcoming towards Jaskier. Normally they all looked forward to spending a couple of month just in the company of others like them without any humans around. But Geralt guessed that by this time they knew the bard was a friend of his and that Jaskier had the potential to brighten the mood by offering some fresh entertainment with his music during long and dark winter evenings.
The bard had taken off his doublet. The sleeves of his shirt were rolled up and his chest hair was visible through the loosely laced front. The sun shone on him and Geralt could see droplets of sweat gleaming on his forehead.
“So you and the bard, eh?” Eskel asked, with a smirk and sideway glance at Geralt. Geralt grunted and said, “we are friends … traveling companions.”
Eskel laughed silently. Geralt’s arms were crossed in front of his chest and he almost looked relaxed, contempt, deliberately not looking at the other witcher. “So the ...ahm … excitement we can all smell on you when you look at that handsome bard of yours is just a coincidence?” he asked with raised eyebrows and a wicked smirk.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” growled Geralt.
They watched Jaskier swinging the axe down with precision, cleanly splitting a log, the two halves tumbling down the chopping block. The muscles on his exposed arms were clearly visible.
When he was wearing his ridiculous clothes, the colorful doublets and high waisted trousers, holding the fragile lute in his hands, the bard appeared to be smaller, leaner. Geralt had assumed that it was intentional, that it was somehow beneficial to his profession as a bard to look less strong, less threatening. But now his strong body and defined muscles were visible through the sweat soaked shirt that clung to his torso.
Geralt tore his eyes away from his friend. “So you would not have a problem when - let’s say - Lambert were to make a move on the bard?” Eskel asked him, amusement in his voice.
Geralt could not suppress a growl, “Lambert will keep his fucking hands to himself”.
“Ah,” was all Eskel answered with a knowing smile, playfully bumping his shoulder into Geralts.
“It’s okay, you know,” he continued silently, more seriously.
“What,” Geralt growled through gritted teeth, “is okay?”
Jaskier bend down to retrieve one half of the split log, putting it on the chopping block, so it was standing upright. He lifted the axe again, gripping it firmly with his two hands before he swung it down, splitting the log with an audible crack into quarters.
“Caring about someone, wanting someone,” Eskel answered.
Jaskier bend down again to retrieve the second half and Geralt felt heat rising to his cheeks as he willed himself to look somewhere else, breathing deeply to slow his treacherously increased heartbeat.
“I don’t need anyone and I don’t want anyone needing me,” Geralt answered, looking down at his boots.
“Oh, the old lie we witchers tell ourselves,” Eskel said with a sympathy in his voice that irritated Geralt.
“It’s no lie, it is our way of life,” was Geralt’s retort.
“And yet here we are,” Eskel said, looking at the bard.
Jaskier repeated these movements for a while till he had produced a decent pile of quartered logs that lay around the chopping block.
“Does the bard know,” Eskel began, feeling Geralt tense beside him, “that he does not have to chop the wood? That we have a barn full of chopped wood and that most of our fireplaces can handle bigger logs?” Geralt led out a breath, a mix of relief and amusement.
“Or did you not tell him so you can enjoy this view for a while longer?” Eskel asked, wicked grin back on his face. Geralt huffed.
Jaskier leaned the axe to the chopping block, bending down to gather up the chopped wood. When he turned around he spotted Geralt and Eskel standing in the doorway and a smile brightened his face, wiping away the crease of concentrating on his forehead. He made his way towards them, arms full of the chopped wood.
When he reached the witchers he said, “you two are just idly standing around watching me doing all the work?” He thrust the armful of wood to Geralt, “make yourself useful and help me bring the wood into the barn.”
Eskel laughed, “oh, so you DO know about the barn full of chopped wood? So tell me, bard, why do you chop wood when you know we already have a barn full of it?”
Jaskier looked at the dark-haired witcher with a bright smile and Geralt was not sure why that made him so angry. “I just love chopping wood,” Jaskier answered, “the physicality and simplicity of it, the way that you instantly see the result of your work, the smell of the chopped wood, it just is so … satisfying. And your axe is really good, pretty sharp.”
Geralt could see that Jaskier’s sweaty face and arms were dusted in fine wood shavings and the intensity of the smell that was pure Jaskier gave him the strange urge to gently wipe away the dust from his forehead and pressing a kiss to his temple, tasting him.
Eskel turned to him with an audible inhale through his nose, a raised eyebrow and a wicked smile.
“Yes Geralt, you really should make yourself useful and help your bard with this satisfying work”, Eskel said, turning around, walking back into the keep.
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