#Platonic!Geralt x reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ametrictonofaudacity · 10 months ago

Note

Okay so consider!!!

Yandere platonic Geralt!! Generally very cool!! Very nice!! But if you fuck up you have to deal with (what you have dubbed) the get along cuff. Which is literally him just making you sleep next to him and tying your leg to his with a bit of leather cord. It’s thin so he can easily snap it if there’s a danger, but he’ll wake up if you move it.

Also Jaskier being completely fine and okay with this would be hilarious, I would love to see you write a scenerio!! (Idk why but I picture a modern reader, like one who got dropped in the Witcher from the modern world)

I love this ask!! I also love the trope of a modern character in a medieval setting, I think it was all the ‘Modern Girl IN Middle Earth’ fanfics I read (an actual tag on ao3) so I have a weakness for it!! Also Jaskier just going ‘eh’ is so funny to me.

Warnings: forced proximity, captivity, kidnapping, some level of being infantalized, being tied to another person as a form of being restrained, future Stockholm syndrome. Jaskier is complicit, up to you whether he is also a yandere or not. Also the fact Geralt can smell emotions

“You know this could be like, an actual danger?”

You try and reason your way out of your situation, like reason has ever worked on Geralt before. He ignores you, mostly, concentrating on tying the knot around your wrist in a manner that you cannot undo the knot but it also didn’t cut off your circulation. He slips a finger under the cord, testing the knot and the cords strength, and you hear him make a satisfied rumble. You were still getting used to that, to the various sounds the Witcher made to express emotion.

“No it’s not. The cord’s thin, and if I have to fight I can snap it easily. Plus this area doesn’t normally have monsters, not this time of year.”

He stands, towering over you from you spot on the ground, near the fire, and you tilt your face up. The yellow light throws his features into a harsh countenance, makes his face all angles and scars, golden eyes reflecting the light the way a predators would as he glared down at you, scowling. You tighten your fingers in the wool cloak he had given you, so long ago, the fibers catching in your nails.

He must see something in your gaze, or maybe it’s the way you know you probably reek of anxiety right now, but his stance softens, the scowl melting away into something softer, not a smile because you knew he was still very, very upset with you, but not a harsh frown that made you feel small and stupid and like all the things he thought about you were true.

He crouches, making himself smaller next to you, and you feel your shoulders start to unwind. It was strange, being around someone who was so perceptive to your emotions, but seemingly had no clue how to address or handle them, beyond his own instincts as a Witcher and his limited interpersonal skills. His very limited interpersonal skills.

Seriously. You were pretty sure the guy only had two friends.

“You’re going to try and run again. Maybe not tonight, but I clearly can’t trust you to behave without me keeping my eye on you at all times. Since I can’t do that while I’m asleep, this is the solution.”

He motions to the thin leather cord, and you scowl, face twisting into something you know is ugly but doing it anyways. He wouldn’t be intimidated, you knew, he seemed to view you as some helpless kid, even though you were a fully grown adult who had been attending college.

“You wouldn’t have to watch me if you just let me go, Geralt. You can’t… you can’t just not let someone go home, that��s not right.”

You snap, fingers burying further into the cloak to stave off the chill that was only getting colder, creeping up your arms and legs to your torso and making you shiver. It had just gotten dark, the little fire Geralt built crackling away and too small to provide much warmth but rapidly gaining strength, and you shiver, leaning toward the fire and away from the Witcher.

“We’re not having this conversation again. You can’t survive out there on your own.”

Your face flushes, angry, and you bury your face further into the cloak. He had a point, to some extent. You weren’t used to the world of the Witcher, with its monsters and it’s hardships, weren’t used to the roughness of medieval life and all of its struggles. You were used to the modern world, where distances could be travelled by car, not horse, and you didn’t have to endure biting cold in the winter and blazing heat in the summer.

“That doesn’t mean I can’t at least try, Geralt. What kinda person would I be if I didn’t at least try to get home?” You protest, and there’s the sound of rustling, a muttered curse. Looks like Jaskier was back with wood.

“Ah. Seems I walked into a horribly tense situation.”

Jaskier remarks, but his voice is light, not taking your predicament seriously, even as his eyes land on the tether around your wrist and Geralt’s as he feeds wood into the fire, which licks up the logs and sticks eagerly, hungry for fuel. You scowl, face buried in the cloak to hide your sour mood as much as possible. Geralt didn’t care if you were pisses off or not, he cared when you were afraid not when you were mad, but Jaskier would do everything in his power to pull you out of your bad mood. From telling stories to playing little tavern songs, he would be relentless in making sure you cracked a smile at least once, and you didn’t feel like having to endure the bards attempts to cheer you up right now.

“Is tying them to you really necessary though, Geralt? They look like a kicked pup, can’t you be a bit more lenient?”

Jaskier wheedles, and wow, he might actually be your favorite person right now. You peek up from the fold of the cloak, and he’s got a hand on a hip, shifting his weight with a concerned frown. He looks entirely disapproving of the whole thing, which makes your heart soar. Maybe he would actually be able to get Geralt to listen to him.

“They’re lucky I don’t tie them on Roach all day.” Geralt grumbles, setting up the bed rolls. You could feel every small movement he made, the motion tugging gently on the thin tether.

“Oh you grump. Stop being so rude.” Jaskier huffs, sitting next to you, and you quietly despair how easily he gave in, how quickly he yielded to what Geralt wanted to do. You tuck your face back into the cloak, dejected.

“Hey now, it isn’t all bad. There are worse places to sleep. I can recall a few of them myself.”

Jaskier’s hand lands on your shoulder, and you glare, annoyed. You didn’t want company, or comfort, or any of it. You wanted one thing, and it was something that the both of them were denying you.

Jaskier, because he was Jaskier, seemingly didn’t notice. Which wasn’t the greatest.

“Yeah, sure, I guess. Never slept tied to somebody, though.” You say pointedly, and the annoyed rumble Geralt gives is almost worth it. Sharp gold eyes narrow at you slightly, before Geralt huffs, turning back to his task.

“I have! Well, it was more I had been knocked unconscious, but it still applies, I think! And those ropes were rather coarse, my wrists were aching for days!” Jaskier recalls. “Geralt had to rescue me, it was quite the adventure. I wrote a song about it, at some point, although I never published it. I really should rework that song, actually, come to think of it.”

He rambles, his voice filling the tense silence between you and Geralt, and you feel your shoulders start to relax. He was good at that, chattering to fill the silence that would drag on for hours between the two of you if it wasn’t for him. You sigh quietly, leaning into the warm hand clasped on your shoulders as the fire grows in strength, the bedrolls almost fully prepared.

“Alright. Jaskier, you take first watch, and I’ll take over in an hour or so.” There must not be many monsters around, you think, for Geralt to be so comfortable letting Jaskier take watch. Jaskier nods, slipping away your side as Geralt approaches.

“Not a problem! I was feeling wired tonight anyways, a few more hours though and I should be able to sleep well enough.” Jaskier agrees amicably. “Although I am a bit surprised, you normally insist on first watch.”

“Wanna get (Y/N) down.” Geralt huffs, and Jaskier nods.

“Fair enough, I suppose. They are criminally lacking in the sleep department, they’re beginning to get bags, poor thing.”

You scowl at Jaskier, annoyed.

“I’ve had these since middle school, first of all, not my fault I have insomnia.” You scowl, and jerk when Geralt all but drags you to the bed roll, barely waiting for you to finish talking.

“Hey!” You protests, annoyed, but he’s too busy ‘getting you settled’ as he liked to call it. Fussing over the blankets and the best roll, making sure your body was protected from the harsh winds that even the fire couldn’t stave off.

“Jaskier, stop keeping them up.” Geralt grumbles, sounding more tired than annoyed. He drags you closer, and it must be a Witcher thing to radiate heat like a furnace, because he was chasing off the cold without even trying, the same arm that you were tied to securing you against his chest.

“Pretty sure I can sleep on my own.”

You snark, and Geralt rolls his eyes.

“Not for the next week you aren’t, if that. Now go to bed.”

You scowl, glaring up at him. With the blanket over you, the fire, and the heat radiating off his body, you were tired, sure. But not tired enough not to say something, not when you were being treated like an idiot who couldn’t do anything for themselves.

“You can’t just- Geralt this isn’t right, and you know it. You can’t just- keep me here!”

You protest. Arguing with Geralt was much like arguing with a wall, honestly. Stubborn and just as likely to listen to you as the bricks that made up the walls of your old college.

But walls could come down. You just had to get through to him, make him realize that what was doing wasn’t going to work. You weren’t strong enough or fast enough to escape him, not without some clever plan or tricks up your sleeve, and you were pretty sure that an Olympic level athlete would still have issues trying to outpace him. So your only hope was getting him to listen.

It was a fragile hope, but it was the only hope you had.

“We’re not talking about this right now. Go to sleep.”

Geralt grumbles, and you open your mouth again. The warning rumble in his chest cuts you off, and you swallow.

The sound was exactly that. A warning. Geralt had never hurt you before, not really, but whenever he got mad things were miserable. Jaskier would be irritated with you for ‘putting Geralt in a mood’ as he put it, and you would be without the bard’s chattering to fill the heavy silent between you and Geralt. Not to mention the awkwardness of being forced to ride atop Roach with Geralt, the silence thick with tension between the two of you, or the way you would hope desperately for the day to end so you could go to sleep.

No, it was better to keep the Witcher happy. For all parties.

“Alright. Good night.” You finally mutter, and he sighs, the tension leaving his body. You feel his torso loosen, relaxing behind you, and you feel your hand shaking, just slightly. Or a little more than slightly. Your stomach twists, and Geralt sighs.

“I know you don’t understand. But you’ll realize this is what’s best for you.” He says it like it’s supposed to be an assurance, smoothing a hand over your hair like you’re a particularly fussy child, and you consider, for a second, twisting and biting that hand. Driving your teeth deep enough to draw blood and make him listen to you, for once.

You don’t, mainly because you know he would just move it fast enough your teeth would just snap at empty air.

You close your eyes. With the almost stifling heat behind you, and the too-heavy weight of the cord on your wrist that logically shouldn’t feel as heavy as it did, sleep does not come easy. Eventually, though, you feel your consciousness slip away into oblivion.

#yandere platonic Geralt of Rivia #yandere witcher #yandere platonic Geralt #platonic yandere x reader

104 notes · View notes

fanficsforfun · 1 year ago

Text

It's so annoying how it's virtually impossible to find any platonic fics... They're harder to write, I know that, but I want something to read!

My ask box is open if someone finds something and feels like sharing (no angst though, please)

#fanfic #fanfiction #platonic fanfiction #fluff #george wealsey x reader #fred weasly x reader #yondu udonta x reader #geralt of rivia x reader

27 notes · View notes

mlm-writer · 1 year ago

Text

Old Friend (Geralt x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Show!Geralt of Rivia x Gender Neutral Reader (can be interpreted as platonic or romantic) Rating: Mature Words: 1670 POV: Second Summary: The Big Tober Day 21 - “I did what I had to do to protect those I love… I had no choice!” Note: Don't @ me for still posting things that were supposed to come out in October. Tags: angst, mention of Ciri & Yennefer, ft. Jaskier & Milva, murder and dark magic

Everyone would agree that Ciri was an unlucky girl with a life tainted by tragedy. Every time you spoke with her about her past, you felt a little pang in your heart. However, sometimes you envied her. The way Geralt reserved his warmest of smiles for his charge, the way the most powerful sorceress spent her time teaching Ciri and the power Ciri possessed sometimes made you feel like she was, in some way, a very lucky girl.

You spent life on the run with Ciri, Geralt and Yennefer. Most of the time you felt like you were family, sometimes you felt like an extra, an unnecessary weight, but no one told you to leave. You had nothing to teach Ciri that Geralt and Yennefer couldn’t. They had it covered from sword to spells to alchemy.

Then things kept going to shit and before you knew it, Geralt was flirting with death and Ciri was missing. You wanted to go find her, but Yennefer insisted you stayed with Geralt. “You can heal anything!” Geralt exclaimed as you exhausted yourself once more. He was capable of loud verbal abuse. You should’ve counted that as a win, but it was hard to, when Geralt was still bed-bound.

“I’m doing everything I can!” You yelled back. Milva entered, her hand landing on your shoulder. It has been the same song over and over again ever since Jaskier revealed Ciri was on her way to Nilfgaard. Geralt proceeded to demand more of you. Milva forced you out. Jaskier was waiting for you with a brew of herbs that would help you recover your strength. “I’m really doing everything I can,” you sobbed by the fire.

Jaskier put his arm around you, comforting you the best he could. “I know. He knows. He is just… Geralt.” You leaned against the bard, letting his body’s warmth seep into yours. You sat by the fire until it got dark. Jaskier eventually let you be to mull over your thoughts in peace. When you had the strength you used your magic on those that did appreciate it. You were weak, but even a little was for many enough to pull their foot out of the grave.

Exhaustion gnawed at your bones. Your muscles felt like they were weighed down by the state of the world. You took a stroll out of the camp, trying to avoid Jaskier and Milva. They meant well, but their words were not enough to distract you from the power you lacked.

When the lights of the camp were far behind you, you stopped walking. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, knees colliding with the muddy ground of the forest. From a secret pocket sewn into the coat you’ve had for over two decades, you procured an amulet you haven’t worn since you met Geralt all those years ago. The deep red gem reflected the light of the moon onto your eyes. Deep within the stone you could see an old friend. You promised Geralt you’d throw this trinket away; you promised you would never give in to temptation again, but despair had forced you quite literally to your knees. You clenched the charm tightly in your fist. “All is fair in love and war,” you whispered as you stared down at your fist, noticing how red light seeped between your fingers. “These are times of war and… I love him.”

Those words spoken aloud strengthened your resolve. You closed your eyes as you put the thin golden chain over your head, letting the amulet fall right where your heart was. As soon as that metal hit your chest, you felt an old friend occupying your mind once more. “I always knew you’d come back,” it told you. It gave you visions of how to help Geralt. The methods dancing on the grey moral spectrum, but led by these visions, you made your way back to the camp. You entered the tents of the sleeping patients you had helped earlier. You touched those that you didn’t think would make it to the morning. Their life force entered through your fingertips. They breathed their final breath. You felt the weak energy pooling together. One tent, two, three, you passed though the whole camp, taking what you needed from those that were not likely to hold onto it for long anyway. Each time you took, darkness rose to your skin, revealing your deeds in the night.

Your veins had turned black by the time you entered the final tent. Geralt was fast asleep as well, too injured to even hear you entering, too unwell to open his eyes and ask you what you were doing there. A black tear rolled down your cheek as you placed your hand on his chest and let go of all the energy you had collected. The life energy of the people that died that night flowed from your chest down to your fingertips. In his sleep, Geralt inhaled deeply as the energy filled him. It only took a moment, but it felt like an eternity as you felt the weight of the lives you took to save the one most dear to you.

When you were devoid of all the energy but your own, you collapsed on the ground, legs too tired to keep you up. You took deep breaths, trying to avoid looking at your hands. However, in the end you just needed to know how bad things were. You raised your palms, the sight - though expected - still horrifying. Your skin had blackened from the dark magic. Your hands felt fine though. “You did well. This is only the beginning of what we can achieve. You’re meant to take what you please,” the old friend’s voice echoed through your skull. The words were reassuring, but you knew all too well where things could lead. You reached for the amulet, ready to rip it off you. “You need me. Without me you’re useless. You can’t protect the ones you love.”

Geralt had you once believe otherwise, but it only took one glance towards him to show you where his faith in you had led him to. Even the great White Wolf could be wrong sometimes. Defeated, you slowly let go of the amulet, allowing it to occupy its old spot. “Everything will be fine. You will be fine,” the being spoke through the amulet to you. You had heard those words a million times from Jaskier, but only now did they actually soothe you.

The next morning you woke up from stirring on the bed. You hadn’t dared to leave the tent and slept on a chair. “Geralt,” you whispered, aware of your surroundings the moment your ears picked up on the rustling of blankets. You forgot what you looked like, immediately rising from the chair and joining Geralt at his side. You inspected the wound on his leg, but it was not there anymore, a new scar adorning his skin.

Your eyes didn’t meet Geralt’s until he sat up on his own. “What did you do?” His voice dripped of venom. You lifted your head to meet his yellow eyes, darkened by the deeply furrowed eyebrows. Your throat felt tight, so tight that not a single syllable could make it through to the cold space between you and the Witcher. He called your name and reached out. You were frozen in place as his calloused fingers traced the black marks on your face. “What did you do?” He repeated the question, emphasising each word with urgency.

Black tears pooled in your eyes, the first few already rolling down your cheeks by the time you found your voice once more. “I did what I had to do to protect those I love…” You swallowed a lump in your throat. “I had no choice.” Your voice trembled, each word shaking more than the previous one.

Geralt was visibly seething as he grabbed your arm, his grip tight. “What did you do?” He demanded, voice booming in the small space. You tried to free yourself.

“Geralt, please, you’re hurting me!” “Say it!”

He knew you. He knew you from the moment he met you. He knew the person you could be once you gave up on your ‘old friend’. He knew what you did then and he knew what you did last night. He knew, but he didn’t want to. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted to have mistaken that familiar amulet around your neck. However, things were exactly as it seemed and just like things never changed, Jaskier and Milva came in right on que.

Jaskier called out for Geralt, tried to calm him. He immediately commented on how he seemed to be better, proceeded to ask how. Meanwhile, Milva freed you of Geralt’s grip. A crowd had formed at the entrance, but you couldn’t see anyone in the room but Geralt. “How many have died tonight?” Geralt demanded to know, Jaskier and Milva now in between you two. They tried to calm him. “How many?” He roared.

His fury eventually ripped the answer out of you. “I don’t know! I only took from those that were not likely to make it to the morning anyway.”

“Jaskier…” Geralt’s voice was quieter now he got his answer from you. He turned to the bard. “How many people died tonight?” Jaskier turned to Milva, hoping she held the answer.

“42,” she spoke with surprising steadiness. She then looked at you, shaming you with her eyes alone. She was not the only one who despised your existence after that night. Jaskier pleaded for your life, then left with Geralt to find Ciri. You had to go your own way, fend for yourself once more. If it wasn’t for your aching heart, it was like you never met the Witcher at all. He never wanted to see you again, but even as you walked with your backs facing each other, you felt like you would see him again. It was a funny thing… destiny.

—————

REBLOG TO SUPPORT YOUR FANFIC WRITERS

Likes do not help exposure!A comment in tags or replies can sustain a writer for months!

#gender neutral reader #male reader #the witcher #the witcher s3 #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #geralt x male reader #geralt x gender neutral reader #geralt of rivia x reader #geralt of rivia x gender neutral reader #geralt of rivia x you #geralt of rivia x y/n #the witcher fic #dandelion #jaskier #milva

170 notes · View notes

thewritersaddictions · 1 year ago

Text

Requests: The Witcher: Geralt of Rivia- Spellbound

Pairing: Geralt of Rivia x Fem!Reader & Ciri x Platonic!Fem!Reader

Pov: Geralt Of Rivia/ Ciri

Warnings: Mages, magic, fighting, Kaer Morhen, Angst, Fluff, memorial statues, death/revival, female witcher!Reader, falling back into love, happy family vibes.

Summary: The only female witcher is frozen in time at Kaer Morhen, but when Geralt brings Ciri there, something magical and extraordinary happens. Reuniting two past lovers.

A/n- @ firefly-graphics for dividers; this is a request.

WC- 2.4k

Requests Master List // The Witcher Master List // The Heros Master List

The first and last female witcher statue stands in the middle of Kaer Morhen. It’s a daily reminder of my failure to protect her and that I must try to be better for her sake. Vesmir had been a helping hand when I lost her. He was the only father figure I had, and I was more than grateful when he chose to have the stone figure of her placed in Kaer Morhen. It was a reminder of how little there were of Witchers like us, but also that love was forever.

It just stung too much, and I needed to leave Kaer Morhen. Spring was starting a new, and with that, paths and plans were already ready to be brought to action. I packed my little things and took Roach back on the dirty trails that were now not covered in inches of snow. Yet, this path led to a world I’d instead have never been a part of. A law of surprise that leads to a child. A child born to be the princess of Cintra.

Many more happened before I knew the law of surprise would put her and me on the same path. I’m more than surprised when it leads me straight to her. In an effort to firstly protect the princess and secondly help her because the duty has sadly fallen to me due to the war. I bring her to Kaer Morhen. I get her there to learn and to be supported by Vesmir; then again, I’m reminded of a promise that I must protect Ciri in every possible way, as I couldn’t do so for Y/n.

Y/n statue stares at me. Her frozen, hurt face, I can hear the echo of screams and how quickly they were cut off before I could make it to the fight. Her beauty hasn’t left her face. A smile that is in the back of my head, but her voice. That beautiful voice. The only thing that could lull me to sleep and keep my spirits high was fading ever so quickly in my mind. All I had left of her were the memories and the statue. Her dress flew in the wind as she was frozen head to toe.

It had been a mage, an unhappy mage, that had followed us to the mountainside. I remember it now being about me. The memorial was about many things. Y/n had been the only female witcher, so for one, it was a remembrance of that fact alone. Y/n had also said that if she ever died, in battle or at home, she would love to be able to gaze at the morning sunrise and sunset setting.

I hadn’t realized how long it had been until I arrived at Kear Morhen. Years had passed, and I had gained the child princess and a few friends in those years. Yet even with the people around me, there was still an ache in my chest, so looking at her frozen staring with that scared expression only caused the hurt to grow.

I introduced Ciri to everyone. Vesmir understood that this was a unique matter at hand. He helped me in any way I needed. I wake Ciri every morning before the morning rose above the mountain tops. “Come, let’s go practice.” At first, it was with swords and then with combat. And every day, Y/n watched us, unmoving and silent. Every day, like clockwork, Ciri would get distracted as she wandered off the battle arena and towards Y/n’s statue. “Who is this?” There was a tiny plaque at the bottom of her lonely statute—Y/n’s name written in a language known to only a few witchers, one of which was Y/n.

On the plaque, it reads:

Y/n, L/n

The First and Only Female Witcher

We miss you.

“Someone important,” I tell Ciri, and that’s where I leave it, but I feel I should know better. Ciri will go on an adventure to figure it out herself, regardless of what I want her to know about it. “Let’s return to practice before you get distracted even further,” I tell Ciri, and she follows me obediently, but there is something, and I can feel it as if Ciri is drawn to Y/n.

–

Geralt doesn’t talk much about his past, and I know he’s got secrets he’s unwilling to share with me right now. There is just something about that statute. I can’t read the plaque below it, yet I do not care. There is a beauty around her, so everyone had to go to bed to rest every night after I sneak out of the room and walk down to the statue.

I sneak out to talk to her. Unlike Geralt, she couldn’t give me a look of not understanding or dismissing me when he’d heard enough about my thoughts. I just want and need someone to understand me. I would walk out and talk to her for nights in a row. About anything and everything. How training was going, how much I missed my grandmother, the war, and the magic I felt pumping through my veins. Anything that scared me I talked to her about.

One night, I thought I got caught. I had snuck out after a late dinner. Geralt had said I needed to do more training than when we first arrived here, yet we had already been here for ages. His words and his calm demeanor pissed me off. “You don’t think I can do it, do you?” I yelled at Geralt. I was standing up from the table. The chair slid and scratched the floor in the process. “I never said that,” Geralt said calmly. “Yet you never say I’m doing good; you just grunt and walk away. You don’t even talk to me about anything. Everything is a damn secret, I just want to understand, yet that was the most difficult thing here.” I screamed before stomping to my room, leaving half-uneaten food on my plate. The sound of echoing feet happened hours later, and when I peeked my head out of the room, there was nobody in the living space.

“I just don’t understand why he doesn’t talk about things. I just want him to teach me and not just grunt at me and then tell me to repeat what I was just doing.” I fuss at the beautiful statue. She’s cleaned every day, and she almost looks real. If I just climbed up and touched her, she would come to life before me. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not cut out for this stuff,” I mumble as I look down at the ground before me. I must be too into my thoughts because I don’t hear when Vesmir comes behind me.

“I see you’re out here talking to our beautiful Y/n.” Vesmir said, “Jesus, you scared the shit out of me, Vesmir.” I said, grabbing onto my chest and holding my fast-beating heart. “Wait, did you just say her name?” I asked, whipping around and asking Vesmir. He smiles down gently at me. “Of course, this is the only female witcher ever. She was the best of the best and a loving woman.” Vesmir adds before stepping further next to me. “I’m assuming from your reaction that Geralt hasn’t told you of the story about our dead Y/n.” I shake my head, “Hmm, I wonder, I must tell you now.”

“So the story goes as follows. Y/n, the only female witcher, was with Geralt. God, they were in love with each other. They thought a hell of a lot of monsters together, but of course, a love story must always have a villain to it. There was a mage, according to Geralt. That had not taken his various forms of saying no to heart. The mage had dragged Y/n into the fight that unfortunately put her in this frozen state.” Vesmir says, and as he continues to talk, he looks fondly at her.

“So Geralt and her were together; no wonder he’s so tightlipped about her. He wouldn’t even tell me her name.” I say sadly, looking back up at her. “She is beautiful.” I say in a low, sadden voice, “Y/n is beautiful, I bet she was a great listener.” I say I hear a chuckle from behind “I wish I could have met her.” I say out loud, clearly. My hand sits on the stone base of her boot. “I figure she would have loved to have met you. You are much like her Ciri.” Vesmir adds.

Just then there’s this moment of consuming silence. My hand still wrapped around her boot. “Ciri?” I hear Vesmir behind me. “What are you doing?” He asks, there’s shock in his voice, and a bit of terror. “I don’t… what are you talking about?” I ask looking up from the gravel beneath my feet.

Her statue is lite up with a light blue hue. “I wasn’t… I was just holding her foot that was all I promise you.” The blue hue grows with strength until finally it echos into the sky, streaming onto every single surface it can touch.

–

I can sleep here, regardless of the anger that Ciri is pushing towards me. I can only ever sleep here at Kaer Morhen. It brings the past memeoties to the brim of my mind. Y/n fliters through my thoughts. Her voice echoing through my head, the sound of her laugh, the spring scent that followed her around. She was nothing like a witcher, her emotions open and willing to be connected with someone else. I ache in the best and worst ways for her. Yet I don;t dare tell Ciri about her. I can see it now, if Y/n was around she’d just love Ciri. Y/n would be so happy to be acting like her mother. As much as Y/n understood that she was the only female witcher, she also wished to be normal. She wished that she could have kids. It was a sad conversation that the both of us had to have.

My eyes open with haste. A blue bright light pulling me from my dreams of my perfect family. There’s this searing blue light that is filtering through the walls of Kaer Morhen, and my thought flutter over to Ciri. I hope Ciri is alright. I jump up from the uncomfortable bed. I run through the halls, Ciri’s door is left open. Panic starts to set into my bones. I run around the others coming out of there rooms. The blue hue is fading away, and for a moment I swear I can hear Y/n’s voice. I push that away from my thoughts, as I frantly look for Ciri. I find that the front door is open wide, and when I look out there’s nothing but crumble stone all over the ground.

“Geralt?” I hear Vesmir say. I look up front he ground swallow hard, bearing for the worst. Instead it’s not the worst. “I need you to believe what I’m about to say.” He says steadily. “Vesmir what are you talking about?” “Just let me finish alright, Ciri has awoken Y/n.” I stand there, my heart beats and my jaw leaps down to the ground in shock. We had tried everything, spells, magic, ruins to fix her condition. “Geralt?” A sweet voice calls from the dust before it all clears.

There she is, standing in all of her glory. Grey hair that flows in the night wind. Y/n hasn’t aged a single day in the many years that she’s been frozen in her stone state. My hands shake my heart beats so fast I can hear it in my ears. I’ve never fetl a source of panic and relief all in one little moment. “Is that really you?” My voice is shattered and my heart feels as if it’s been broken and put back together all over again. “Oh my dear Geralt. I think you and I both know that it’s me.” Y/n says as her eyes flicker over tot heston slab we put her on, and then to Ciri. My eyes widden with shock. Y/n is most defintly not up there anymore, and the expression on Ciri’s face is easy to read. “Let’s take this inside, is that alright Vesmir?” Y/n asksher voice floating into my ears. It calms my racing heart.

The walk inside is odd, and perfect all at the same time. We all sit at the same table that Ciri had just recently yelled at me. “Who may this be, Geralt?” She asks me, and it pulls me away from just staring at her. I use to stare at her all the time. Her beauty was always hard to not get distracted by. “This is um… this is Ciri.” I introduce her to Y/n. Y/n smiles sweetly over at her. “It’s a pleasure to met the person who fixed my rather unforotunate situation.” I forget how eloquent Y/n spoke most of the time. “I didn’t know that was going to happen.” Ciri speaks for the first time. “I told Ciri about what happened. Maybe that has something to do with this miracle.” Vesmir says looking over at me. I want to be anger with him and Ciri but the soft, and gentle hand that settles on my arm brings me back to earth. I can’t dare to be mad at either of them.

“I think we should thank them Geralt. As for without their efforts I would not have come back to you.” Y/n says looking over at me. I nod simply. “Thank you for bringing her back to me, Ciri. I owe you a lot more now.” Ciri looks at me notching her head to the side. “Geralt you don’t owe me anything. I just wanted to know moe about Y/n.” Ciri says look at he pair of us. “I would love to tell you more about me in the morning I’m rather tired.” Y/n says it like there’s nothing wrong with that fact. “Will you take me to bed, Geralt?” Y/n asks me, her grasps holding me tight. I shake my head not able to talk just yet. “I missed you.” Y/n says as we walk towards the room we used to share.

Completed on: 08/27/23

Posted on: 08/28/23

The Heros-

150 notes · View notes

biscuitbox23 · 9 months ago

Text

The Stag and the Warbler

Pairing: Jaskier/Dandelion x Witcher!Reader.

Summary: The bard has written a song about you. And it has given you a lot to think about.

Author's note: It's a late night thought I've had for a while. Jaskier has always been my favorite character in both the Witcher games, books and the tv show. I wanted to give him a bit of honor by writing this :) —also a little Skyrim reference cuz im not creative in song writing.

Warning: platonic love, fluff, kind of a bittersweet ending.

As Jaskier strummed the strings of his lute, he hummed the tune of a popular ballad. "Our hero, our hero, claims a warrior's heart…" he sang but then paused mid-verse, his forehead creasing in concentration. "I tell you, I tell you, the Witcher comes- no, that does not sound so good," he muttered.

You couldn't help but chuckle at him. You busied yourself with grooming your loyal steed, Melorax. The horse stood still, contentedly munching on bits of hay. While you brushed off dust and dirt from his coat, you could see the tiny frown written on Jaskier's face as he tried to come up with a better verse for his song.

Curious, you asked him, "Who is this hero exactly?"

Jaskier looked up, glad for the distraction. "Ah, well," he said, his fingers stilling on the lute. "It's just a tale, my friend. A story of a brave warrior who fights for justice and honor."

You nodded, understanding the stories that Jaskier shared with you during your travels as a Witcher. Tales like these were always inspiring and entertaining. Jaskier had been your companion for quite a while now, and you had grown fond of his musical talents and witty banter. He would often compare your kinder nature to his friend Geralt, who hailed from a different Witcher school whom you had heard of but never met. After grooming Melorax, you approached the front of the horse and kissed his soft muzzle. The horse whinnied softly, and you smiled at him, feeling content.

"You know I just hunt monsters for coin," you recall, sitting near him as you started the small bonfire.

"Well, yes. But, Y/n of Verden makes a good song subject. Don't you think?" Jaskier smiled widely at you as you put your hands near the fire for warmth. His fingers began strumming on his lute, calmly humming with the tune of his renowned instrument.

You began to listen closely. "With a silver sword gleaming and signs so fierce and cold…" Jaskier sang, "Believe, believe, the Stag of Verden has told."

"Stag?" You asked sheepishly, looking over at him with an expression of confusion.

"Umm… do you prefer to be called deer?" Jaskier asked sheepishly.

"Just confused with the Stag part…" you replied.

"Well, you remind me of a stag."

"How so?" You asked.

"Well, you're strong, very resilient, and almost similar to that of a protector of the realm," Jaskier beamed with poetic pride.

Upon hearing those words, a sense of pride and appreciation washed over you. It was rare for a Witcher to receive such positive recognition, as they are empty vessels of beings whose sole purpose was to slaughter monsters and collect payment. Being regarded as a hero was a new and unexpected experience for you. However, it was evident that most people still saw you as an exterminator who only existed to rid the world of dangerous pests rather than a true hero. All you let out was a slight chuckle.

Jaskier turned his head towards you, and his eyes met yours. He noticed the corners of your mouth curling up, and your eyes sparkled. Curious, he leaned slightly to his right and tilted his head, trying to catch a glimpse of what had caused this reaction in you. "What's so funny, Y/n?" he asked, his voice full of genuine interest and amusement.

"Oh, nothing," you jested. With a look of concern on the bard's face, he turned his gaze back towards his musical instrument, the loot. He asked in a questioning tone, "Is there something wrong with my song? Don't you like it?"

"I assure you that I like it," you said to the worried songwriter before returning to warm your hands by the fire. "Please continue."

Jaskier's face lit up with joy as he responded, "As you wish." He meticulously plucked the strings of his lute, producing a melody that seemed to flow effortlessly from his fingers. His body swayed with the rhythm, and it was clear from his performance that he was a true virtuoso of his craft.

"In the heart of the woodlands, where shadows dance and play Beware, beware, the Stag is on her way For monsters she'll conquer, with every foe she'll slay

You'll know, you'll know, the Stag brings light to the gray."

You were captivated as the bard plucked at the strings of his lute, his voice soft and sweet as honey. The music wrapped around you like a warm embrace, easing the tension in your body and calming your mind. The bard's songs were beautiful masterpieces of melody and meaning. What impressed you the most was how his music seemed to capture the essence of the world around you, bringing to life the sights and sounds of your travels in a way that words alone never could. Being a Witcher often meant living a life of solitude and danger. It made you feel isolated and alone. But having the bard by your side changed everything. His easy conversation and quick wit were a constant source of comfort and amusement, and you eagerly looked forward to every new adventure with him by your side.

By the end, you knew you could never repay the bard for all he had given you, but you were grateful nonetheless.

"You know one thing," you thought to him, "you remind me of a Warbler."

The bard chuckled at you with his sweet smile, "a warbler?"

"Yeah, those birds that sing a lot," you recalled.

As you reminisce about your childhood, your mind wanders back to when you were a young girl, growing up in a Witcher school. Life wasn't easy for you, especially since you were a frail child with a mother who struggled to provide for you. Days at school could be long and tiring, and you often find yourself exhausted by the end of them.

One particular memory that stands out to you is the sound of the Warblers that would perch on the window sill of your room. Their melodic songs would echo through the walls, piercing your ears and keeping you awake at night. You would try to drown out the noise by covering your ears with your pillow, but it was no use - the Warblers always seemed to find a way to sing their way into your thoughts. Despite the annoyance they caused, however, you couldn't help but feel a sense of comfort and familiarity in their presence. After all, they had been a constant presence in your life for as long as you could remember.

"They were annoying when I was young," You scoffed playfully, "I hated listening to them sing whenever I wanted some peace. Now that I'm older, I wish they still sang to me," you look at the burning bonfire as the warmth engulfed the front of your body. “I like your songs, jaskier, even if you played the same tune for a week. I won’t get tired of you.”

"Huh…" Jaskier gave your statement some thought, "I've never had anyone think of me that way." He sat over next to the fire, feeling a bit cold.

"Why? May I ask," You cocked a brow at him.

"I'm a bit of an exasperation and––" Before Jaskier could continue, he stopped himself. He could ruin his godly reputation in front of you, and he did not want that.

"A skirt-chaser?" You continued.

"Oh- No, no, not that," you can sense the embarrassment that overcame his confidence.

"right, alright," A mischievous chuckle escaped your lips as you heard the mention of the notorious bard. His reputation preceded him, and you couldn't help but be amused. Word on the street was he had a knack for breaking up marriages or being the third person for sleeping with married men's wives. You won't deny it. Jaskier was handsome and quite the romantic.

The atmosphere was serene as if the world had a standstill. Not a sound except for the gentle rustling of leaves as the wind passed through the trees. "Can you sing me a song, Jaskier?" You asked, "Please?"

As Jaskier continued his endless string of tales, you couldn't help but politely express your reluctance to hear more. In response, Jaskier flashed a sweet smile and said, "Yes, you may, Y/n."

One day, Jaskier won't be around you. One day, you won't ever see him again, and it will be just you and Melorax on the lonely road. It could happen tomorrow, or it could be years from now. You tried not to dwell on that possibility, but it was always there lingering at the edges of your consciousness. But that did not matter now. It was a love that grew deep inside you that you have never felt. It's a companionship that was a strange yet familiar feeling. One day, he will see you as a monster like everyone else did when they saw you. Despite this, You listened intently to his stories and musings, even when they seemed nonsensical or meandering. You laughed at his jokes and marveled at his wit. You knew these moments were precious, and you never took them for granted because you will never know when that moment will end.

A/n: hey guys :) I apologize if my interpretation of Jaskier and the Witcher universe had errors. I was busy with school to read the books and watch the show for extra context and accuracy and did this all by itself. Overall, im unite happy with how this turned out.

#the witcher #the witcher netflix #the witcher fanfiction #jaskier x reader #jaskier the witcher #witcher netflix #dandelion #jaskier #the witcher 3 #biscuitwrites #Show some love guys <3

54 notes · View notes

jasmines-library · 2 years ago

Text

You'll Be Okay.

Geralt of Rivia/The Witchers x Injured Reader.

Summary: Growing up in Kaer Morhen as a female Witcher was never easy, but you always had your brothers beside you. Although you only see them a few times a year, you are still close, trusting each other with your lives as you have done many times before. So what happens when your brother, and best friend, gets infected by a creature you dedicate your life to hunting?

Warnings: Blood, gore, cannon typical violence, angst, choking, near death, swearing, stabbing, weapons, loss/grief, whump, angst, hurt/comfort, a bit of a slow start.

Notes: This can be interpreted as completely platonic, or as a Geralt x reader, or Eskel x reader, it’s up to you to choose. This also takes place during S2E2 of the Netflix show.

Word count: 4.1K (it got a little out of hand...)

⭒ Masterlist ⭒

Kaer Morhen was far from silent. The snow had settled on the blue mountains casting a misty haze across the sky and the Witchers had retired home for the winter. They sat gathered round the dim firelit hall sipping on beer and sweetened mead as they boasted about their scars and the exciting stories behind them. Witchers were rare to stumble upon.The trials were dangerous and most people died before completing them. There were as little as 20 witchers left after the massacres, where many of the few men died. Female Witchers were incomparable, unheard of. The trials were nearly impossible for boys, let alone a young girl. Though, some spoke of a woman with eyes as golden as the blazing sun whose magic and strength was comparable to that of mages. A woman who not only passed the trials but exceeded trials beyond those alongside Geralt of Rivia.

You sat slumped against the table in the corner of the room with a dark beer in hand as you studied the scenes of your brothers before you. Many had not returned home. Being a Witcher was a dangerous art and not always a wanted one. You knew that. You could be killed or fatally injured at any unexpected moment. It’s why you all had to keep a keen eye out, a single slip up and it could be game over. Your golden eyes glazed over the men before you. You would be lying to say that your stomach knotted in the absence of Geralt and Eskel. You had grown close with the pair, Geralt had been there throughout your trials, easing you though the burning pain as the herbs coursed through your veins like fire and patching up wounds you could not. Eskel had helped train you to fight. He taught you to never give up. That you could do anything they could. Your enhanced senses meant that you could hear the rattling of the door handle before it slammed open and the muttering died down like a flame. A hooded figure stepped into the room. His pale hair fell in ragged ringlets in front of his face and his eyes that correlated yours melted from the piercing gaze they held as he pulled his hood down. Surprisingly, in tow was a young girl, perhaps around the same age you were when you began your trials.

“Here comes trouble.”

You leaned forwards in your seat as Lambert stood and approached Geralt.

“Where the fuck have you been?” He folded his arms.

“We thought you got lost. Or killed.” Coën jested.

Geralt's eyes softened and a smile crept onto his lips. “Not yet. Sorry.”

Lambert smiled before embracing his brother tightly. “Brother! I knew you’d make a fucking entrance.”

A tall figure lurked towards the front of the room. His hair was much like Geralt’s; it shimmered softly under the light and his eyes were much like yours. Upon his face his moustache and eyebrows were littered with greys.

“Wolf.” When he spoke his voice was firm though you could hear the relief. “You’re home. Finally.”

“Vesemir.” Geralt said, addressing the man. He was as close to a father as Geralt had. As close to a father as all of you had. The young girl who arrived with Geralt, clung to his side, anxiously, wrapped tightly in a fur shawl, which was so large that it tickled her rosy cheeks. Geralt gestured to her. “Had to make a few stops.”

“Hmm.”

A sort of uncomfortable silence encased the room as people waited for what would come next. The cracking of the flames was the only thing heard before you rose from your chair, the old wood creaking as it shifted, and made your way towards your brother. His face lit up with anticipation.

“Geralt of Rivia.” You chuckled. “You never fail to surprise.”

Geralt studied you carefully as you spoke. He noticed all of the new blemishes in your skin and the fresh scar that ran across your eyebrow and down your cheek. He took in your eyes and the way their yellow hues shifted in the light and the smile that was pressed on your lips. He admired your hair and the way you kept it; different from the last time he saw you, but still he liked it. He had missed you.

“Y/N. Long time no see.”

Your lips curved further upwards and your eyes glistened. “Too long.” You pulled him in close and welcomed the slow beating of his heart. He was alive.

“He’s home!” The tender moment was broken by the slamming of a knife in one of the tables followed by the rest of your brothers swarming the man.

It was darker still when the room continued to erupt with laughter at Lambert’s very animated retelling of one of his jobs. The young girl - Ciri, had made herself comfortable with a goblet, her face was lit up with an ecstatic grin. She reminded you much of yourself when you were her age. The wind howled outside, rattling against the door and pounding at the windows.

“Best job I had all year.” Lambert chuckled, taking another swig of his drink, spilling some of it down the side of his face and onto his shirt. He cursed and patted at it with a rag before tossing it back on the table.

Vesemir raised his goblet aloft. “Each of your faces is cause enough for celebration. You’re safe. You made it back. You made it home.”

A series of glasses and goblets were raised in agreement. You raised yours high, morning the missing face of Eskel and your other brother who didn’t make it.

“Here’s to another winter together.”

There were a number of murmurs and follow up toasts, the sound of glasses clinking together and chairs shuffling.

Geralt raised his cup “To the brothers. To our sister. To family.”

“To family” chortled everyone.

A strong draft rushed in as a booming voice sounded from the entrance to the hall. “To forgetting the fucking path! For one fucking night. Who’s ready?”

“Eskel!”

You rushed forwards and embraced him. His expression was tired and there was a thin sheen of sweat cascading across his brow. His dark hair fell across his face where it had fallen out of the tie he had scrapped it into.

“Are you alright?” You asked him as you furrowed your brow. “You look like day old shit.”

He chuckled, placing a hand on your shoulder and making his way into the room “Yeah?You should see the other guy.”

Geralt eyed him as he stepped forwards, revealing the long, branchlike hand that was shoved into his bag.

“The bout lasted six hours. I’d have got the fucker too. If I hadn’t lost my elixirs.” He threw the bag on the floor. It landed with a thud which ricocheted throughout the silent room and unsettled the grime on the floor. “Took her hand though.”

“What’s that?” One of your brothers rolled the bag over with his foot. “Is that a leshy?”

“Walked like one. Talked like one. Sort of.”

“Sort of?” You queried, raising your brow.

“I haven’t crossed a leshy in a while.” Geralt said, turning the branch over in his calloused hands. “Not in Kaedwen.”

Eskel pulled down the hem of his coat slightly. It was long and green, frayed at the edges. Bloodied bandages poked through from underneath. “Well count yourselves lucky. Unless you’re aching for the sting of one of their fucking roots.”

“Fire through the heart is the only thing that puts one down.” Vesemir said firmly. “Six hours in, that didn’t occur to you?”

Laughter scattered about the room and Eskel’s face darkened as he made a beeline towards Ciri, who took a sip from her goblet, trying to avoid his gaze and retain her laughter. He made it pretty impossible not to when his face was inches from hers. “Who the hell are you?”

“Princess Cirilla of Cintra. Pleasure to meet you.”

He did not return the greeting, only glared at her for a brief moment before grunting and slipping away. You could tell that something was wrong.

~~~

Your sword rang loudly across the courtyard as it made contact with Geralt's. He grunted as you advanced forwards, forcing him back against one of the pillars. You smirked, pressing the sword closer to him. He shoved you backwards, using his extra strength to force you to the floor. The snow was cold on your body, despite the layers you were wearing as you rolled underneath him, grabbing his uninjured leg and pulling him down to the ground. Scrambling quickly to your feet you forced the sword from his hand.

“You’re getting sloppy, old man.” you chuckled.

“Or maybe I just let you win.”

Shaking your head, you held a calloused hand and helped him up from the ground.

“When you told us you called law of surprise, Vesemir and I told you ‘big mistake.’ You said you promised you wouldn’t claim the child.”

“I had to save her.”

“I know. And you knew I would call you out on it.”

Geralt hesitated and placed his sword in a sheath. “Yeah.”

Your eyes found their way to the floor, tracing the little indents in the snow carved by the shuffling of feet.

“What?” Geralt asked.

“Nothing.”

Geralt's stare spoke for him and you let out a deep sigh.

“Eskel. He’s acting strange.”

Geralt sighed and brushed the hair from his face. “I noticed it too.”

“I sense something is changing, Geralt. Keep Ciri close.”

~~~

Eskels party raved on as you sat, tucked away in the corner with a glass of mead observing the way the flickering candlelight cast a gentle glow over everyone's faces. The witchers swayed and danced and kissed with women from the nearby village. You observed how Eskel was fondled over desperately by a fair haired woman. He hollered and pulled his arm back protectively when she got a fraction too close to his wound that was no longer leaking crimson, but burned like fire. You watched how Geralt, who had been previously absent, walked briskly towards him with angry lines etched on his face. You edged closer, something was telling you this wouldn’t end well. And you were right, you rose quickly to your feet when Eskel got up in Geralt's face. When you pushed the two of them apart, Eskel eyed you angrily.

You could tell his shoulder was bothering him and that he was in more pain than he let on.

“You know, it's funny,” Eskel grunted at Geralt, “Me and the others, we come back here, all banged up. Rock troll busts Lambert's eye. A werewolf takes a chunk out of Coen’s arse…” Eskel’s gaze turned to you and he drank you in, lingering on the pink scar that ran along your face. “And Y/N… Y/N here gets her face torn up by a Bruxa. Was out for days.”

It’s clear from the way that Geralt watches you that you didn’t tell him that one. Eskel smirks and cocks his head. “Hmm, but looks like she didn’t tell you that one did she? And…what do you come back with? All i'm saying is when I find a princess, the last thing i'm gonna do is play knight.” he jested.

He swung at Geralt who quickly countered the punch and pulled his brother into a hold. You skidded to a halt besides the two trying to separate them. Eskel’s face was raging with anger, his eyes piercing like a thousand tiny daggers. “Eskel,” You told him sternly. “Do us a favour, and go to bed.” His teeth clenched and he pulled his hands into fists but before he could do anything, the woman pulled him away down a corridor and deep into the keep.

You turned to leave, to go back to your corner or to join another Witcher, expecting Geralt to return to Ciri or wherever he had been before he caused the stir, but instead he gripped your arm and forced you to face him. You looked at him inquisitively.

“Y/N…”

“Geralt.”

“Why didn’t you tell me about the Bruxa?”

You turned away from him, walking back to your goblet. “I didn’t think it mattered.”

“But you told Eskel?”

You whipped back around, his face was laced with concern and frustration. “I didn’t tell Eskel. He was there.”

“He was hunting it with you? Then why didn’t he stop it before you got hurt? I swear to the gods-”

“Geralt. Stop. He found me… we were both coincidentally hunting the same Bruxa.”

“You hate Bruxae.” Geralt stated.

You hummed and sipped your drink. “There was a rumour about a local village being attacked by a vampire. Things had been slow and the pay was good, so I went to check it out. You know Bruxa, they’re quick and she got me from behind. Winded me and pinned me down so I couldn’t get to my weapons. Took a chunk out my face with her claws and nearly drunk me dry. That’s when Eskel found me. He shot her down and took me to an Inn. He saved my life Geralt. I can never repay him for that.”

It was the high pitch buzzing followed by the rapid vibrating of the medallion slung over your neck that caused your head to snap up. Everyone stopped. A low, guttering rumbling spread its way across the room.

“Maybe Eskel’s leshy wants its hand back.” Coën said.

Vesemir’s golden eyes scanned the room, trying to follow the pattering and heaving creaking. “Wield your wits, kids.”

Everything seemed to happen very quickly. Everyone scattered to keep Kaer Morhen safe, darting between corridors and brandishing themselves with their weapons. You slipped away from the crowd to try and find Eskel, if he was preoccupied and didn’t notice, or it was his leshy, he was in trouble, and you felt as though you owed him protection. Geralt, to your surprise, joined you in the eerily silent corridors. You had a feeling he wanted to get to Ciri, but knew he was needed in the fight or, perhaps after your story about the Bruxa, he felt as though he needed to stay by your side.

The weight of your sword was comfortable in your hand as you released it from its sheath, it was almost like an extension of your body; an arm made of silver, a protector, a deadly limb. The sound of your footsteps mixed with the steady drip of water seeping through one of the many spidering cracks in the tall ceilings. Sometimes they seemed never ending as though there was no escape from Kaer Morhen, you would be trapped in its walls forever. A low rumbling ricocheted throughout the keep, shaking the walls and blowing out some of the sconces, plunging more of the halls into darkness. You gripped your sword tighter.

The grand oak doors creaked as Geralt forced them open. The room was dimly lit by the moonlight which flooded in from the skylight and from the chandeliers which swung wildly on their hinges. The pair of you edged your way inside, your eyes and ears sharp as you scanned the room.

“Oh God…” You recoiled. On the left side of the room, the girl Eskel had been with was pinned against the wall, suffocated by a thick rope of branches. One protruded awkwardly from her mouth, a river of blood coating her chin and the offending branches. There was a thud, and you raised your sword aloft to slice through the thick vine that darted out towards you. A second one raced towards Geralt, who sliced through it as though it was butter. The pair of you readied your swords, turning to watch each other's backs and making your way further into the centre of the room. Glinting as it caught the light, your sword swung to destroy another branch, which had made to grab your ankle. The room was silent for a worrying moment. Then, the two of you were assaulted from all sides. The leshy growled as its arms attacked from all sides, breaking walls and bending the wooden framing of the windows. The pair of you swung your swords with precision, slicing and ducking to avoid a deadly ending, though no matter how hard you tried, the two of you were outnumbered. One of the vines, as thick as your arm, wound itself around Geralt, slamming him against the wall with a grunt, out of your reach.

“Geralt!” You cried, trying to make your way over to him in vain, whilst dancing between the onslaught of vines. You could see the witcher struggling, wheezing and clawing at the second branch slivering across his neck, binding him to the stone pillar. You could see him straining, his hands struggling to grip the sconce that hung just out of reach, mocking him. The branches’ attack ceased for a moment, as the leshy rolled in. It was tall and spindly with a humanoid face that looked very pissed off. Geralt dropped beside you as the creature squealed in pain; he had managed to burn the wood with the sconce, casing it to drop him to the ground. With your face stony, you pointed your sword at the leshy. With the help of the flames from Geralt's sconce, the pair of you backed it behind a table. Geralt jabbed the flames at the creature, which caused the bark of its skin to blister and it to growl. When it turned its head towards you, your face dropped.

Staring back at you were the piercing, green eyes of another witcher. “Eskel?”

It came out as less than a whisper, your voice betraying you, revealing the fear behind your mask.

“Y/N…” Eskel panted back. “Geralt.”

The leshy, Eskel, grunted in pain as it stood, tossing the table it hid behind to the side. Geralt dropped the flames and held his sword in front of him. It was only seconds before Eskel was firing vines and the pair of you. Geralt thrust his sword downwards, deep into one of the branches coming towards him. Eskel howled in pain and tossed his brother back into the doors before turning towards you. Desperate to get away from the danger, you rolled across one of the benches. The branches shot over you as you backed away. You were about to strike again, when two protruded from the walls and gripped both of your arms, yanking you backwards against a second cold bench. Two more slithered around your ankles, pinning you to the piece of furniture. They were harsh, thick with thorns and rough surfaces that scratched against your skin. You grunted, squirming to get free, but you were stuck.

“Eskel.” You strained, “I don’t want to hurt you…please.”

The leshy bent over, towering above you so that you could see the scarring on the wooden version of Eskel’s face. When he spoke, his voice wasn’t the witty, gruff voice you were used to, but a fragile, pained whisper. “I came back here…I knew something was wrong.” He swallowed thickly, struggling with his words as you struggled against him with gritted teeth. Where was Geralt? What had Eskel done to him? “I don’t know what happened...”

One of the leshys arms jabbed itself into your shoulder, drawing ribbons of crimson blood. You screwed your face up and bit back a scream.

“I thought I could fight it.” Another branch into the same shoulder. You groaned and clenched your jaw. The next few words were broken and hard to understand, you weren’t sure if it was because of the hazy pain you were in, or because Eskel was struggling against the leshy. Probably both. “I thought…you could help me like I helped you…”

Eskel stared at you, before turning away and screeching loudly. Vessemir stood in the doorway, his sword sheathed behind his back and a javelin which he had just thrown lodged inside the bark of the creature, Geralt stood beside him, weapon at the ready. It yanked it out and ascended into the ceiling as Vessemir removed his sword and began to cut the vines from around you.

“What is this?” He grumbled, pulling you up to your feet.

“It’s Eskel.” Geralt replied. “The leshy’s infected him.”

Vesemir faltered. “But that’s not possible.”

‘

“That’s what we thought.”

The room creaked, the ceiling cracked and the chandeliers swayed as the three of you circled the room. You held your weapon in your off hand as you nursed your injured shoulder. When the leshy’s failed attacks wore thin, it descended from its place in the ceiling and made a beeline for the door. The elder witcher was quick to notice and ordered Geralt to shield them shut. Pissed that its simple escape route was no more, Eskel stalked towards Geralt, albeit didn’t make it very far because you and Vesemir assaulted him with chains that were pinned to the walls. The hooks dug into the bark, keeping him in place. You wound them tightly as he thrashed, suspending him off the ground. Vessemir’s attempts to calm him, telling him you could save him were futile. He just knocked the man to the side, attacking him with lengths of branches, sending him careening to the side.

“Hey!” You yelled, stabbing one of the branches with the point of your sword. The creature turned its attention back to you. It vines wrapped themselves around you, suffocating you in a bone crushing grip. One hooked itself around your neck like a python, coiling tighter and tighter until you felt as though your head might fall off from your body. Eskel cocked his head and studied you closely, his eyes twinkled. No amount of yelling or distraction could draw his attention away from you. He was hooked, conflicted between wanting to kill you and wanting help.

“Eskel…” You wheezed, “Please…stop.”

You were completely unaware of the distressed calls of the other witchers and the hum of Geralt's sword as he cast a spell over it, causing it to glow white hot. You were absorbed by the face of your brother as the branches tightened around your body. Your lungs burned and you tried to suck in air, much to the protest of your ribs, which cracked and shifted uncomfortably. It was when that coppery taste flooded your senses and blood fell from your mouth that you stopped struggling. Your vision blurred as you choked, gasping and spluttering. Your ears rang and white spots obscured your vision as you stared blankly up at Eskels face. When Geralt drove his sword into the leshy’s heart, your body slumped to the floor.

“Y/N!” Geralt was quick to your side, rolling you over to face him, agitating the raw wound on your shoulder. You cried out in pain.

“Shh, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. “ he hushed, taking you in. He eyed nervously the blood that was seeping from your mouth and ears, some streaming down your nose. There were angry bruises already forming on your neck and winding around your body. As your spluttering began to cease, your eyes began to flutter shut.

“No. No, no, no, no. Keep those eyes open.” Geralt pleaded. You whimpered as he pulled you into his arms, holding you securely to his body. Your head lolled against him as your eyes fluttered. You missed his call to Vesemir, who led Geralt down the hall. You missed the anxious calls of your brothers, who were aghast to see your condition. You didn’t see the way that Geralt’s face contorted at your pained whimpers and the scattering of people trying to make room for you. You missed it all as you slipped into unconsciousness.

~~~

When you awoke and your eyes had adjusted to the light, the first thing you were aware of was the dull pain that radiated throughout your body. A throbbing ache mixed with a sharp stabbing pain. The second was the anxious, golden eyed stare of Geralt of Rivia.

“You’re awake.” He whispered, as though he were trying to convince himself.

You groaned as you tried to sit up, ignoring the pain in your shoulder and across your ribs. There was still a slight wheeze to your breath.

“Easy,” He told you. “You took quite a beating.”

Your voice cracked as you spoke, dry from lack of water. “How long…?”

“A few days. We had to lace you with elixirs…” Geralt sighed deeply. “You had us so worried, Y/N.”

“I’m sorry.” You muttered. In that moment, you remembered something, like someone had turned on a light. “Eskel?”

Geralt shook his head. “Gone. I’m sorry.”

You nodded solemnly. You knew that the chances of saving him were slim, through a rough tear spilled from your eyes.

“It’s okay.” Geralt placed a hand on your shoulder that wasn’t covered by a bloodied bandage. “It’s okay. We still have each other. We have our brothers. We will be okay.”

————

307 notes · View notes

z00oo1 · 2 years ago

Text

Fic Recomendations

Does have a lot of Y/N stories but if you want to get rid of that you can use the interactive fic extension heres the link!

Thomas Shelby

Love Is Sweeter Than Vengence @pherelesytsia

Burglars break into the mansion in search of the safe and stumble upon the lady of the house.

A Small Mishap @garrison-girl-08

which someone hurt the reader (wife) and she didn't tell Thomas until he found out himself.

The Layers of Thomas Shelby @theonewiththefanfics

Fear was an emotion Tommy elicited in others. He never thought he'd feel it himself. Not like that. Never like that...

Don’t Be Late @dandelionprints

When Tommy makes a promise to his wife he could never imagine that breaking it could potentially cost Y/N her life.

Ellie Williams

Glue @whore-era

_ jackson's sweetest girl crushes on the town's grumpy asshole.

Risk @scentedmarkerhq

"That’s not a risk I’m willing to take,

argumentive @hotxcheeto

Ellie gets mad at fem reader because of a little fight

Tommy Miller

Then & Now @musings-of-a-rose

Be Your Armour @heartpascal

tommy x platonic reader

Violent Delights, Violent Ends @ay0nha

Tommy wanted to hold you, scratch softly at your skin like he had when he met you. His heart always ignored the warning of mixing business and pleasure. You were clever, though, discovering that his touches were exchanged for information and nothing more.

Anakin Skywalker

Its not too late @starlazergazer

Anakin gets a second chance

Flirting with the darkside @starlazergazer

Daemon Targaryen

Scarlet Bound @barbiedragon

Dragons, deaths, and dreams will dominate your world all while being bound to your brother and husband, Daemon Targaryen.

Captial @arabellasleopardcoat

You think you married the plainest woman on earth, and you look away for one second and suddenly she is not. Typical. At least, for Daemon.

Aril @bohemian-nights

Children are a blessing from the Gods. They fill one’s halls with cherubic laughter. Gracing each chamber that they occupy with sweet little melodies. And yet Dragonstone’s halls remained empty.

Geralt Of Rivia

The Ballad of Orpheus and Eurydice @ro-is-struggling

Life was good when Geralt was by her side. They were in love and happy... Until they weren't and she was left alone once again. After spending so much time under his protection, she had forgotten how dangerous the world was for creatures like her.

Spellbound @thewritersaddictions

The only female witcher is frozen in time at Kaer Morhen, but when Geralt brings Ciri there, something magical and extraordinary happens. Reuniting two past lovers.

Love, Persevering @starryeyedstories

On his journey to Kaer Morhen for the winter, Geralt makes his yearly visit to you.

The Cottage At The Edge Of The Woods @starryeyedstories

When monsters are cruel and the Continent is crueller, Geralt knows he can always find a few days of peace with you, the gentle healer who lives in the cottage at the edge of the woods.

#tlou fanfiction #the last of us #joel miller #ellie williams #tommy miller #starwars #anakin skywalker #daemon targaryen #daemon targeryen x reader #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #geralt of rivia #geralt x reader #thomas shelby x reader #the witcher

192 notes · View notes

writerscafehub · 7 months ago

Text

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀: 𝐕𝐢𝐜

@sunflowersteves || @sunflowerstevesmain

From one to five stars, how would you rate your writing? (No downplaying yourself!)

3.5 bc I read an old fic the other day and I’ve improved soooooo much but there’s always room for improvement!

2. What do you think makes your writing stand out from other works? I feel like I’m really good at requests.

Sometimes I think it’s hard to imagine what someone is asking for, but as a daydreamer I feel like I can visualize it so well.

3. Are there any writers that inspire you?

Famous authors include Toni Morrison, Stephen King (minus the cocaine💀), and Neil Gaiman. In the server, literally everyone inspires me all the time and is so so supportive. Some mutuals that I so aspire to write like are @moonlightprose, @fushic0re, @darkficsyouneveraskfor, @fluffyprettykitty

4. What’s the fic you’re most proud of?

I would have to say first time (a carmen berzatto x reader) or broken hearts (eddie munson x reader). I think I really capture Carmen and Eddie’s characterization, especially how they would act in a relationship. Also, for sure my best angst.

5. Which character(s) do you find easiest to write and which do you find most difficult to write?

I’m a hyperfixation girly so the easiest are ones that I’m currently obsessed with (joel, miguel o’hara, etc.) and the most difficult are the ones that I still love but have fallen off the obsession wagon (Steve Rogers, geralt, din djarin, etc.)

6. Who or what do you find yourself writing about most?

Smut bc I’m a hoe ✨ also it’s been a year and joel miller wont leave my mind, so

7. Tell us about a WIP you’re excited about!

This has literally been on my WIP for over a year, but it has to be a notting hill AU with Sam wilson. I’ve been excited to write that for ages.

8. First fandom you ever wrote for?

Marvel. I wrote a spider girl fic when I was in middle school lmao

9. Any guilty pleasure trope(s)? jealousy fics and protective fics,,, yum

10. A trope you’ll never, ever write for.

Prolly the divorce trope bc I get so mad at characters.

11. Wildest fic you’ve ever written?

It was a request but eddie munson x reader with a guitar head in the coochie and it was great.

12. Favorite pairing to write for? (platonic or romantic!)

I love poly fics! Love Stucky x reader and steddie x reader are my fav. they’re just so good.

13. Do you listen to anything while you write?

I usually have to listen to classical or lofi beats bc I’ll get distracted soooo easily.

14. One-shots or multi-chaptered works?

One shots

15. Have you ever daydreamed about side adventures/spin-offs from your fic? Tell us about them!

As a certified day dreamer, absolutely. Any longer fic I’ve written, I literally day dream how it’s gonna play out. I did that a lot with ain’t no sunshine (joel miller x reader).

16. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

I am so bad at angst and I would love to write action/violent fics but I always feel like I can’t describe it for the life of me.

17. What’s the nicest comment you’ve ever received?

Someone commented that they turned my notifications on so that they could see when I posted the fic and that made me giggle and kick my feet.

18. Have you ever gone outside of your comfort zone for a fic? How did it turn out?

It’s currently a work in progress, but it’s a period smut fic. It’s not necessarily out of my comfort zone but more of I’ve never written a fic like that before. It’s for Miguel. I’m so ready 👀

19. Tooth-rotting fluff or merciless angst?

tooth-rotting fluff

20. Do you have any OCs? Tell us about them!

I do not ❤️

21. If you could enter the universe of any one of your fics, which would it be and why?

I would die in literally every sci-fi or fantasy world that I love (star wars, game of thrones, lord of the rings, the last of us, attack on titan, etc.) so I’m gonna have to pick marvel. I’d have a fighting chance.

22. Is there anything you wish your audience knew about your writing or writing process?

tbh the hardest part for me is starting. Introductions tear me down every time rip. Sometimes, I just start in the middle because it’s so much easier.

23. Copy and paste an excerpt you’re particularly fond of.

You pause, just for a moment. You could feel the adrenaline kick into your system, and a numbing pain flushed out your senses. The blood felt warm and sticky—prompting the sleepiness to feel calming, and it urged you forward into its safe surroundings. But then you felt it. Panic. Panic rose in your neck as you looked around for someone. Your hand darted out to try and find them, but your mind was starting to become blank from the fuzzy warmth of pain. Joel. You needed Joel.

24. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

Ok listen, I wanna write so bad. The last fic I wrote was in March and I’m feeling that writing withdraw. My brain needs to get into hyperdrive so my fingers can type all day long. I have so many fics planned

#✯ 𝐕𝐢𝐜 ✯

22 notes · View notes

cinebration · 2 years ago

Text

Thirty Percent! (Geralt of Rivia x Platonic!Reader) [Request]

Hello!! I love your writing, it's quite immersive and your range is admirable! If requests are still open, I'd like to submit this for consideration: a platonic, close friendship with Geralt of Rivia where the MC has some or significant power and/or skill of her own. Where the relationship is centred on mutual respect and rapport, they work well together, and seek each other out. Feel free to take or leave as much of this as you want, and take as much time as you need. Thank you!!!!—Requested by anon

I think I went hard with the banter-bicker dynamic, but I love that. Apologies if this missed the mark a little. I really ejoyed writing it!

Warnings: monster blood, violence

Gif Source: cavilhenry

Viscous, black blood covered the silver of Geralt’s sword as he slashed at the bloedzuigar. The creature’s leech-like mouth, an oval maw filled with sharp teeth, contracted with a screech of pain, the monster thrashing in the murky swamp water as more black fluid spilled out of its wound.

Geralt leapt back, the water resisting his motion, as the creature swiped with its spike hands, its reach equivalent to Geralt’s. The monster only had an inch or two on the witcher, but the water gave the thing an advantage Geralt lacked as he waded through the morass, feet catching on submerged roots and uneven clumps of mud.

With another vicious screech, the bloedzuigar lunged forward, hacking with its claws. Geralt twisted away, nearly losing his grip on his sword. Hitting the water face-first, he dove beneath the surface and kicked hard, propelling himself away from the creature even as it slithered after him with greater agility.

Geralt gasped for breath as he surfaced, spun around to face the creature.

Gone.

The water chopped in small waves around Geralt from his own hurried escape. With only a half-moon for light, the water was dark, the bottom hidden behind feet of murk and disturbed silt. The creature’s blood floated as a darker patch to Geralt’s right.

Readjusting his grip on the sword, Geralt stood still, minimizing the minute movements of his body sending ripples out through the water. The bank of the swamp rose behind him, cypress trees clustered thickly and preventing easy escape. The attack would come from the front, but whether the creature would surface again when its preferred delicacy—intestines—was still submerged under the water in the witcher’s torso remained to be seen.

Geralt edged toward an open gap between the trees, gaze fixated on the deceptively placid surface of the swamp. His movements sent tiny ripples across the water, marring the reflection of the half-moon.

The witcher’s calf pressed against gnarled roots, the slope of the swamp floor changing underfoot. Geralt glanced over his shoulder at the bank, calculating how long it would take him to haul himself out.

The surface of the swamp broke in a violent fury, the bloedzuigar shrieking as it launched itself at Geralt.

“Fire!”

Something arced over Geralt’s head, spinning with perfect precision. It struck the bloedzuigar on its razor-filled mouth, breaking with an audible snap. Odorous liquid spilled over the creature, stunning and disorienting it.

Scrambling up the bank, hands and feet slipping in the swamp muck, Geralt shoved his hand toward the creature and muttered, “Igni.”

Fire shot out toward the bloedzuigar. The creature burst into flame as the oil coating its mouth and upper torso caught fire. Geralt hauled himself further up the bank as the creature thrashed, dying screams rending the night air.

You peered through the cypress trees at your handiwork. “See, now wasn’t that effective?”

Geralt seized you by the waist and threw you down. He landed beside you as you issued protest.

The bloedzuigar exploded, spewing acid against the protective line of trees.

You chuckled wryly. “I forgot they do that.”

Geralt rolled onto his back, shook his head. “You forgot.”

“Yeah, I forgot. I’m not a witcher. I don’t have everything about the beasties memorized—that’s what the books are for!”

“I agreed to let you tag along—”

“Tag along?” You snorted, hauled yourself up into a sitting position. “I do not tag. And even if I did, you are lucky I was around. With all the swamp water on that thing, Igni would have done precious little to singe the bastard. You’re welcome.”

Geralt grunted, neither protesting nor agreeing.

“Next time, I’ll create myself an oil bomb, and then I won’t need a witcher throwing signs to destroy a creature.”

Geralt’s yellow-gold eyes flicked in your direction, a shadow crossing his dour features. “You won’t go alone.”

“I can and will do whatever I please. Perhaps next time you can accompany me and see my latest inventions at work.”

“Inventions.”

“Not everything is swords and spells and potions, my dear witcher. There are other things that save time and energy. Think of the trebuchet and the power it delivers across vast distances, doing more damage than any battalion in an army on an open field.” Snorting again, you rose to your feet and stared down at the supine witcher. “But since you saved me from horrendous acid, I’ll buy the first round at the tavern.”

“With what coin?”

“‘With what coin?’ The gods quiver to hear such blatant prevarication. I believe we agreed that I would earn thirty percent of your profit on this hunt.”

“Ten percent.”

“Thirty, and I do not aim to bargain unless you agree to give me more than that. So let us retrieve our reward—”

“Ours?”

“—ours,” you repeated, kicking him sharply in the ankle, “and get some food and ale into us before midnight strikes, thank you very much.”

A mild chuff of amusement slipping past his lips, Geralt took your offered hand and hauled himself to his feet. As you both returned to your horses, he wiped the ichor from his silver blade.

“And dry clothes,” you added, the squelch of Geralt’s soaked boots and the scrape of his soaked pants audible. “You know how much I dislike to see pruned skin.”

The witcher eyed you again. “I didn’t agree to sharing my chambers with you.”

“No, you didn’t, but it is a sad fact of life that plans change.”

“Such as reducing your thirty percent to ten percent.”

Swinging up into your saddle, you shot Geralt a flinty look. “Then I will take a pound of your flesh as the remaining twenty percent.”

The witcher chuffed again as he slid the silver sword back into its scabbard and hauled himself up into Roach’s saddle. “None of the creatures I have fought have managed a pound.”

“Yes, but I know when and where you sleep.”

Geralt mulled this over as you both nudged your horses back to the road running past the swamp. “When I first found you trying to blow yourself up—”

“I was unsuccessful,” you protested, both indignant and relieved.

“—you were meeker than—”

“If you say a field mouse, Geralt, I will personally catch your hair on fire.”

The witcher wisely held his tongue, but a faint smile curved his lips.

“If I was ever so meek as you claim, it was that all my courage and effort was focused on not killing myself with my experiments.”

He grunted. “You still try.”

“With much better results,” you countered. “And if I hear you complaining, I will let the next bloedzuigar drain your blood and eat your partially-digested intestines.”

“You said you would buy the first round?”

“How easily you evade the subject, witcher.”

“From your ten percent of wages?”

“Thirty!”

The witcher’s quiet chuckle carried across the field.

#Geralt of Rivia x Reader #Geralt of Rivia #Geralt of Rivia imagine #Geralt x Reader #Geralt #Geralt imagine #Henry Cavill x Reader #Henry Cavill #Henry Cavill imagine #The Witcher #requests

213 notes · View notes

ellieslittleburrow · 5 months ago

Text

Summary : Geralt wants to help you. You don't want his help.

Warnings : A father caring for his child.

A/N : Your name is Rivvie/Raven. It's genderneutral and i chose it for you!!!!! Took me a while to come up with it so shush

----

Steps pierced your ears as they stormed closer to your aching stiff body.. You shrunk in fear, retreating into yourself, unsure of who it was or what they were going to do to you. But when a familiar silhouette emerged from the trees-

"Geralt..." Your body unconsciously jolted up to a sitting position. It hurt, but you lifted your head up anyway. "I'm..I'm okay." You huffed, swallowing the pool of blood that coated the borders of your lips. You straightened your back, attempting to look as composed as you could. But the browns and reds smeared across your face proved otherwise.

The man who stood before you extended his hand out to you, his eyes piercing through to your soul. But when you didn't comply, anger contorted his features and he sucked his lips inwards in a refraining manner. "Get up."

You hesistantly took his hand, wincing as he pulled you up to your feet, but you didn't have to react before the latters betrayed you, ending up in a loss of balance and a striking pain starting at your knees and traveling all the way up to the rest of your body. Thankfully, Geralt's quick reflexes saved you from fully hitting the ground. As you were falling, he crouched and wrapped his hands around your waist., holding your upper body close to him before forcing you up again.

"No!" You yanked yourself from your father figure, a confident frown on your face. "I can walk on my own..." The words struggle to leave your throat. Geralt sighed.

"Come on, chil-"

"I'm not a fucking child Geralt." You instinctively pressed your hand against the tree your back has been hugging throughout the whole ordeal. "i can take care of myself. I don't n-"

"Yes you do."

You winced at the sudden rage that filled his voice. Through gritted teeth, he continued. "You do need me- Look at you, you can barely stand-"

"Don't yell at me." But despite the fear that washed your body cold, you yelled back in response. You don't need his help. You can defend yourself. He reached for your hand but you slapped it away with more force than intended. You are not a child.

Or maybe...You are because the witcher's features contorted even more, his eyes darkening subsequently-You discreetly leaned away, shrinking slightly more.

"Then you shall stop acting like one..." The words raged out of his lips. "Look at you, all bruised up and refusing help. You know i don't mean you any harm, i just don't want you to get hurt." The veins on his neck growing more prominent.

You....You did know that, but you didn't care. He won't be there forever. "I can take care of myself." You insisted, turning on your heels.

You head for the forest, the direction home may have been unknown to you, but senses work in a magical way, making it so that you never needed to know. You just felt.

You limped through the forest, passing by clusters of fallen logs and traps, steadying yourself whenever you could reach a tree. You'd gladly rather die there than ask for help from Geralt, who lazily but firmly marched behind you.

He called your name a few times. Even yelled. But you were persistant this time. He will not make you apologize. You weren't sorry. You needed to prove to him-that you did not need his help.

"Are you going to keep ignoring me?" The witcher spoke again and unconsciously, your head almost twisted over your shoulder.

Aren't you allowed to be angry?

"That's not the behaviour of a grown individual, Rivvie." Geralt's voice dripped with provocation, firing up your aching body into a hot boil. But you still didn't ans-

"That's enough, Raven." A sudden authoritary growl thundered through the forest. "I just want to help you. And i'm not asking." Before you had the time to protest, your feet were swept off the ground and you found yourself nailed to Geralt's chest.

An awkward position for you to jerk your body, he wouldn't have dropped you, you'd just jolted and thrown your body up and down in vain. Geralt's strong. His arms alone wrapped around you so tightly you'd actually feel claustophobic. You would if it were somebody else's arms. But...Geralt's your...safe haven. You just don't want him to know that.

You huffed, growling as you turn your head away from him, burying your chin into the acromion shaping his shoulders. "I don't need your help." You groaned, stressing your words in an attempt to sound...more stern.

But Geralt simply grunted a cold and blank "Okay." causing you to uncomfortably shift in his embrace. He lifted you up a bit to adjust your body, causing a ached whimper to leave your lips. "Sorry.."

"I..." You start but....maybe you shouldnt push it? After all, he really just wants you to be okay. "It's okay..." You readjust your head back to your frontal view, eyeing Geralt, whose face was only inches away from your own.

"T-thank you.." You hide your face into your chest, unable to furthur embarass yourself.

Geralt stayed quiet for a moment, but then he grunted, a silent "you're welcome" you're familiar enough with.

With that, you rested your head on his chest, finally accepting the situation. You gripped his shirt as softly as you could and closed your eyes. Maybe having them there wasns't so bad after all.

-----

I read somewhere that most *readers* are white-fied. And it just opened my eyes. I hope this does indeed include all and everyone. I hope this was pleasant to read for all of you guys, comments are much appreciated. See ya in the next one! ❤️❤️❤️🥀🥀🥀

#the witcher fic #father figure fic #father fic #father figure #father x daughter #daughter!reader #adoptive father troop #the witcher x daughter #henry cavill x daughter #geralt x daughter!reader #geralt x daughter #father geralt #henry cavil x daughter #henry cavill x sister #platonic!reader #daughter x father #sibling fic #sister!reader #protective siblings

75 notes · View notes

derelictlovefool · 4 months ago

Text

❝🇬🇺🇮🇩🇪🇱🇮🇳🇪🇸❝

Author: Achilles, he/him & they/them pronouns

Status: Hobbyist, low writing activity

Writing: OC x Canon, Reader Insert, Original Fiction

Requests/Suggestions: Open

note: i'm a full time student so any requests I get will be done when and if I have time and they spark my interest!

Active in regards to fandoms & characters simply means most enthused about and interested in writing, inactive means least interested in writing but still willing if the idea sparks my creativity.

❝🇫🇦🇳🇩��🇴🇲🇸❝

active | inactive | semi active

❝🇨🇭🇦🇷🇦🇨🇹🇪🇷🇸❝

active | inactive | semi active

Dean Winchester | Sam Winchester | Castiel | Charlie Bradbury ||| Joel | Tess ||| Wade Wilson | Tony Stark | Pepper Potts | Bucky Barnes | Steve Rodgers | Thor Odinson | Bruce Banner | Natasha Romanoff | Clint Barton ||| Harley Quinn

The Doctor (4, 9-15) | Jack Harkness | Rose Tyler | Donna Noble ||| Sweeney Todd | Mrs Lovett ||| Geralt of Rivera | Jaskier/Dandelion | Yennefer of Vennenberg ||| Hakon | Aiden | Lawan | Frank ||| Alvin Murphy | Roberta Warren | Addison Carver | Cassandra | Sarge | George St Claire

Mo | Dustfinger ||| Penelope Featherington | Benedict Bridgerton | Anthony Bridgerton | Colin Bridgerton | Eloise Bridgerton | Violet Bridgerton | Kate Sharma | Edwina Sharma ||| Jason Voorhees | Michael Myers | Bubba Sawyer | Brahms Heelshire | Thomas Hewitt

Eddie Gluskin ||| Ethan Winters | Karl Heisenberg | Alcina Dimitrescu | Donna Benniviento | Slavator Monreau | Mia Winters | Chris Redfield | Leon Kennedy | Ada Wong | Claire Redfield

Jack Morrison | Gabriel Reyes | Cole Cassidy | Genji Shimada | Hanzo Shimada | Mei ||| Sans | Papyrus | Asgore | Undyne | Mettaton | Queen ||| Gary ||| Calax Gothard | Domino Swift | Lola Del Carmen | Sonoya Vernilion ||| Asra | Nadia | Dorian | Portia | Muriel ||| Merlin/Hamish Mycroft

OC's: David Thorn (Slasher), Z (God Symbiote), Xander (Robot)

❝🇹🇷🇴🇵🇪🇸❝

Tropes I enjoy writing:

❝🇼🇮🇱🇱 🇩🇴❝

— male/trans/enby/gn!reader (I'm here for the guys and gays)

— oc x canon, oc x oc, canon x canon, reader x canon, reader x oc

— sfw & nsfw

— platonic, queer-platonic, romantic, familial, etc.

— headcannons, one-shots, multi-parts

— AU's, crossovers

— gore, violence, toxic relationships, death/angst

❝🇼🇴🇳❜🇹 🇩🇴❝

— fem!reader (There's thousands out there already y'know)

— genderbends

— pregnancy related topics

— self harm topics

— incest, paedophilia, zoophilia, necrophilia and any of that nasty crap

— non-con

— infidelity

— Characters I really don't know or care about </3

#Request Guidelines #mobile guidelines bc I like to format things now and having everything accessible via mobile is nice for me personally lol

7 notes · View notes

theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 1 year ago

Text

The Witcher Masterlist

One Shots

Whoreson Prison Blues - Jaskier x Reader (Ft. Geralt)

A Short Break - Jaskier x Reader Ft Geralt (all platonic)

Batter and Bard - Jaskier, Reader, Geralt (all platonic)

Imagines + Mini Fic

Imagine Jaskier trying to tell you how he feels

Imagine Geralt realising how pissed you are after running into you again

Imagine Jaskier confessing that you are his true muse

(Return to the Easy Navigate Masterlist)

#theladyofmanyfandoms masterlist #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #theladyofmanyfandoms #jaskier imagine #jaskier x reader #geralt imagine #geralt x reader #witcher x reader #witcher imagine

40 notes · View notes

axiina · 1 year ago

Text

CHARACTER LIST

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Genshin Impact:

Mondstadt:

Albedo

Amber

Bennett (aged up only)

Diluc

Eula

Fischl (aged up and platonic only)

Jean

Kaeya

Lisa

Mona

Noelle (aged up only(?))

Razor (aged up only)

Rosaria

Aether

Sucrose

Venti

Liyue:

Beidou

Chongyun (aged up only)

Ganyu

Hu Tao

Keqing

Ningguang

Xiangling (aged up (?) and platonic)

Xiao

Xingqiu (aged up only)

Xinyan (aged up only)

Yanfei

Zhongli

Shenhe

Inazuma:

Arataki Itto

Gorou

Kaedahara Kazuha

Kamisato Ayaka

Kamisato Ayato

Kujou Sara

Raiden Shogun

Sangonomiya Kokomi (platonic only)

Thoma

Yoimiya

Yae Miko

Yun Jin

Snezhnaya:

Tartaglia

Khaenri’ah:

Dainsleif

Arcane:

Caitlyn

Ekko

Jinx

Mel

Viktor

Vander (platonic only)

FNAF:

Glamrock Freddy

Glamrock Chica

Montgomery Gator

Roxanne Wolf

Sun/Sundrop/Sunrise

Moon/Moondrop

Vanessa (platonic only)

Michael Afton

Eldarya:

(I can also write character x character)

Ezarel

Nevra

Valkyon

Leiftan

Chrome ( A New Era)

Karenn ( A New Era)

Miiko

Ykhar

Ewelein

Keroshane

Koori

Huang Chu

My Candy Love:

(high school era only)

Lysander

Castiel

Nathaniel

Kentin

Armin

Alexy (platonic only)

Rosalya (platonic only)

Amber

Iris

Kim

Violette

Melody

Final Fantasy VII:

(I can also write character x character)

Claud Strife

Tifa Lockhart

Aeris Gainsborough

Sephiroth

Vinvent Valentine

Zack Fair

Rufus Shinra

Genesis Rhapsodos

Reno Sinclair

Haikyuu:

Karasuno (aged up, 18>):

Kōshi Sugawara

Yū Nishinoya

Tobio Kageyama

Shōyō Hinata

Kei Tsukishima

Tadashi Yamaguchi

Kiyoko Shimizu

Keishin Ukai

Nekoma:

Tetsurō Kuroo

Yaku Morisuke

Kenma Kozume

Lev Haiba

Aoba Johsai:

Tōru Oikawa

Hajime Iwaizumi

Shigeru Yahaba

Yūtarō Kindaichi

Akira Kunimi

Kentarō Kyōtani

Fukurodani:

Kōtarō Bokuto

Keiji Akaashi

Akinori Konoha

Shiratorizawa:

Wakatoshi Ushijima

Eita Semi

Satori Tendō

Tsutomu Goshiki

Kenjirō Shirabu

Johzenji:

Kenjirō Shirabu

Itachiyama:

Kiyoomi Sakusa

Inarizaki:

Shinsuke Kita

Atsumu Miya

Rintarō Suna

Osamu Miya

Tears of Themis:

Artem Wing

Vyn Richter

Marius Von Hagen

Luke Pearce

The Arcana:

Asra

Nadia

Julian

Muriel

Portia

Lucio

Valerius

The Witcher:

(I can also write character x character)

Geralt of Rivia (platonic only if x reader)

Yennefer of Vengerberg (platonic only if x reader)

Ciri

Jaskier

Eskel

Lambert

Fringilla Vigo

Emiel Regis

Tissaia de Vries (platonic only)

Rience

Milva (sfw only)

Avallac’h

Eredin Breacc Glas

Imlerith

Caranthir Ar-Feiniel

Coën

Vesemir (platonic)

Iorweth

Hunger Games:

Coriolanus Snow (young Coriolanus only)

Lucy Gray Baird (platonic only)

Sejanus Plinth

Tigris Snow

Katniss Everdeen

Peeta Mellark

Effie

Haymitch

Johanna Mason

Finnick Odair

Stardew Valley:

Sam

Elliott

Sebastian

Shane

Abigail

Emily

Haley

Maru

Baldur's Gate 3:

Astarion

Gale Dekarios

Karlach

Shadowheart

Wyll

! I do not write works with children characters/characters who are physically children !

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I might have forgotten someone, so ask me if you are interested in a character and they are not on the list

#character list #genshin impact #arcane #fnaf security breach #eldarya #final fantasy vii #haikyuu #tears of themis #the arcana #the witcher #encanto #stardew valley #my candy love #amour sucre #hunger games #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #baldur's gate 3

31 notes · View notes

thedoubleexposurephotography · 2 years ago

Note

It’s one of the first nights of the reader sleeping outdoors in Jaskier’s world. They look up to see the stars and the moon only to be caught off guard by how different they are from what they’re used to, and are reminded of just how far they are from home. Fortunately, Jaskier is right there to help comfort them.

Pairing: Jaskier x Fem!reader (platonic/pre-relationship if you squint real hard)

Warnings: anxiety attacks

Word count: 2024

Author’s notes: Reader is one of those people who travels the country in a camper van and works remotely. Also, sorry, anon, for taking 2 months to write this. Hopefully you like it!

What a wild day.

Currently you were lying in your sleeping bag in front of a fire under the wide open sky. The night was still. Well, mostly. One of your new companions, Jaskier, he said his name was, was seated not far from where you were trying to sleep playing a lute, an instrument you were sure hadn’t been popular since the renaissance. Your other companion, Geralt, was sharpening his swords, his white hair and yellow eyes gleamed in the firelight. All around the three of you were completely normal night sounds. If anyone happened upon you, they wouldn’t think anything was amiss.

But previously you had been minding your own business driving your camper van along I-90 through Minnesota toward South Dakota for your next work assignment. Next thing you knew the world went bright and suddenly you were definitely not in Minnesota, and nearly hitting the two men you were currently camping with. Once you stopped the van, and once your heart stopped beating like it was staging a coup against your rib cage, you saw Geralt approaching your van with a sword drawn. Immediately you jumped to grab the one weapon you had: your nail bat wrapped with barbed wire (what could you say? You were a fan of, and inspired by, both Stranger Things and The Walking Dead, and you hated guns). You had jumped out of the van to confront both men. Some tense words had been exchanged, but when it became clear you weren't a threat, Jaskier managed to talk Geralt into standing down. All you could really say at that point was “What the fuck?”, “Where the fuck?”, “Who the fuck?”, and after noticing how they were dressed, “When the fuck?”

There was shock on all sides when the three of you realized what had happened. And then another question was added to the list: How the fuck?

To your credit you only nearly fainted.

But once the shock wore off, you started to panic. How were you supposed to make it in a world like this? You came from a world with indoor plumbing and vaccines and being able to change your underwear every day. The people of this world probably still believed in the four humors. How would you adjust? How would you survive?

Jaskier was the one to approach you and try to calm you down. He went to talk to Geralt out of your earshot and when they came back, they invited you to come along with them, at least until they could find someone who might be able to help you.

You are not an idiot. You were a woman who up to that point had been traveling the United States alone in a van. You’d come across your fair share of suspicious and scary situations. That’s why you had the nail bat. You’d learned to listen to your instincts and heed any alarm bells in your head.

When you looked at Geralt and Jaskier, there were no alarm bells. So you agreed to accompany them. It’s not like you had any better options. You went back into your van, packed some essentials in a backpack, changed into more suitable clothing, and abandoned your van where it crashed.

And so here you were now, truly roughing it in a new world with a bard and…..whatever Geralt was (you still weren’t clear on that part).

You couldn’t sleep, of course. Your mind was still racing. You tossed and turned unable to relax enough to drift off. Your brain just couldn’t reconcile the fact that you are in a completely different world. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto. This story was The Wizard of Oz, and you were Dorothy, Geralt was definitely the Tin Man, but you couldn’t decide if Jaskier was the Cowardly Lion or the Scarecrow.

With sleep utterly escaping you, you rolled onto your back to stargaze. Because of the lack of light pollution, the view was incredible. Billions of stars twinkled in the sky for your viewing pleasure. The moon was full tonight as well, shining bright and casting plenty of light on the world below. But the more you gazed, the more panic started to bubble in your chest again. It’s not like you expected the night sky to be the same in a different world, but now it was obvious. There was no Orion, no Cassiopeia, no Ursa Major or Minor. Nothing in the sky was familiar to you. The stars were different. The moon was different. The world was different.

You really weren’t in Kansas anymore.

Trying to keep your breathing even so you wouldn’t hyperventilate, you scrambled out of your sleeping bag with all the grace of a convulsing newborn giraffe and raced off to a nearby rock formation so you could have your anxiety attack in peace and privacy.

As you hurry away from camp, Jaskier calls for you, his voice full of confusion and concern. “Where are you going? Are you all right?”

“The stars are different!” Is what you shouted back over your shoulder, your voice cracking with panic.

A pause. “What?”

You spun around and pointed up at the sky. “The. Stars. Are. Different!” You repeated, as if that’ll explain what you mean. You whipped around toward the way you were heading and continued toward the rock formation. You walked around to the far side—out of sight from Geralt and Jaskier—and slumped against the wall of one of the boulders, finally allowing the tears to fall freely.

The sobs that escaped you were ugly and anguished. You were feeling sorry for yourself, but you also thought of your friends and family back home. How they would eventually realize you were missing, how detectives and the police would investigate your disappearance, how there would be no trace of you, how everyone you loved would never know what happened to you and whether or not you were okay. These thoughts cut you to the bone. All you wanted was to go home, but all you could do right now was cry behind a rock and feel sorry for yourself.

Footsteps approached and you quickly wiped at your face and took some deep breaths to calm your crying. You’re not sure why you cared, but you didn’t want Geralt and Jaskier to think you were some blubbering baby. . You didn’t want them to think you were going to be a burden.

Jaskier rounded the corner, and you huffed in annoyance, crossing your arms over your chest. This pity party didn’t allow for guests. You just wanted to be left alone. To his credit, Jaskier looked sheepish at his intrusion. He gave you a bashful little smile, but the look on his face became concerned.

“I know this is a stupid question,” he said, “but are you all right?”

You shot him an incredulous look. “Oh, yeah, I’m just peachy,” you spat sarcastically.

Jaskier held up his hands in a placating way. “Right. Yeah. In my defense, I did say it was a stupid question”.

“And you weren’t wrong”.

The bard sighed. He looked like a kicked puppy.

“Sorry,” you mumbled. “I swear I’m not normally like this. It’s just—”

“No, no, I understand. I suppose I’d also be a bit surly if I was in your place,” Jaskier said. His eyes met yours, and you could see the empathy in the cornflower blue depths. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

You made a sound that was somewhere between a scoff and a bitter chuckle. “Send me back home?” You asked with a wan smile, knowing full well it was impossible for Jaskier to accomplish.

He chuckled. “I would if I could,” he assured you earnestly, and you believed him. “Unfortunately I am but a humble bard, and traveling between worlds is just slightly beyond my abilities”.

“Only slightly?” You teased lightly. “You must be quite the bard, in that case”.

Jaskier smiled. “Perhaps I could serenade you with a soothing song? I’m much more confident about doing that”.

“That’s very sweet of you, Jaskier, but I’m not in the mood for music right now,” you said. “Maybe once the shock of everything has worn off”.

Silence fell between you two. Jaskier was fidgeting like he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the right words. You scrubbed a hand over your face, also at a loss for words.The tension was uncomfortable, so you let out a little groan of frustration.

“Fuck, I could use a hug right now,” you said, raking a hand through your hair.

Jaskier paused, thinking. He nodded resolutely. “I can do that”.

Your eyes shot to the bard, and you laughed nervously. “Oh, uh, no, that’s okay. I was just being facetious. I wasn’t actually asking”.

Jaskier approached you with his arms open. “Nope. No take-backs. You requested a hug, and a hug you shall have”. He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and pulled you into an embrace. For the first few minutes, you were rigid in his arms, unsure of what to do, but then you figured what the hell, and wrapped your arms around Jaskier’s waist and relaxed into him. The two of you stood like that for a while, and you had to admit, it was comforting. Jaskier had a warm, welcoming air about him that transferred easily into his embrace. Little by little you were able to calm down.

You’re the one who broke the silence first. “I’m never going home, am I?”

Jaskier held you tighter. “I don’t know”. He started rubbing your back in soothing circles. “But Geralt and I will look after you. We’ll figure something out,” he promised you.

You snorted. “Something tells me Geralt won’t be enthusiastic about that”.

“I know Geralt seems like he’s unbearably crotchety and cantankerous,” Jaskier said, trailing off at the end.

You waited for Jaskier to finish the statement. When he didn’t, you asked, “And?”

“No, that’s it. He’s unbearably crotchety and cantankerous”.

A small laugh bubbled out of you in spite of your mood, and Jaskier chuckled along with you.

“Ah, there we are. A smile and a laugh,” Jaskier said. He pulled away from you, still holding you by your shoulders, and gently smiled down at you. “In all seriousness, Geralt fancies himself a stoic mutant who doesn’t feel normal human emotions, but he does care, even though he’ll never admit it. He—we—will make sure you find your footing in this world until we find a way to send you back to yours”.

His words touched you. You’d known this man for less than a day, and he was doing his best to make sure you were okay. The last vestiges of your anxiety melted away, and you finally felt a sense of calm.

“Feeling better?” Jaskier asked you.

Nodding, you replied, “Yeah, I am”. You gave him a small smile. “Thank you”.

He returned your smile. “It’s no trouble at all”. He put one arm around your shoulders and started leading you back to camp”.

Geralt gave you both a look when you returned. Jaskier gave him one back and the Witcher replied with one of his signature grunts . You ignored the exchange, and snuggled back into your sleeping bag. Once settled, you closed your eyes and tried to fall asleep, but you were distracted by shuffling noises on Jaskier’s side of camp. Next thing you knew, the bard was laying out his bedroll next to your sleeping bag and setting his lute next to your backpack. He laid down next to you, settling himself down for the night. The two of you laid on your backs next to each other, gazing at the stars.

Jaskier raised his arm and pointed to a group of stars. “That’s the Winter Maiden,” he said, and told you the story. He points out other constellations and explains the lore to you. You do your best to listen, but after awhile, sleep finally sneaks up on you. That’s how you finally drift off, with the stars in your eyes and Jaskier’s voice in your ears, bringing you the comfort you sorely needed.

#Jaskier #Jaskier imagine #Jaskier x you #Jaskier x reader #julian alfred pankratz #the witcher #the witcher netflix #witcher geralt #geralt of rivia #jaskier x y/n

49 notes · View notes