#and we know Geralt talks

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 38

Jaskier has kept a secret for years. The ring with dandelions carved into it that he wears every second of every day is the only thing keeping him from turning into ash. He sleeps with a lovely woman one night, desperately trying to move on from Geralt (it doesn't work, he is still very much in love with his best friend) only to awake in the morning and find- FUCK She stole his ring! That conniving little-! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! What does he do!? He races to the mirror and it confirms his worst fear. The glamour the ring gives him is gone. He can't see his reflection. He reaches a hand up to his mouth and feels his fangs. No- Nonono! Then his worst fucking nightmare ON TOP of his worst nightmare happens. He hears the stomping footsteps of a witcher approaching their room. Godsdamn it all. He hears the doorknob jiggle and.. Alright, he'll be the first to admit it, he panics. "DON'T COME IN, GERALT" The doorknob jiggling pauses. "Jaskier? Are you alright?" "Y- YES! Perfectly peachy! Don't come in!" Jaskier rushes around the room, pacing in panicked circles like a caged beast. He was a caged beast. He reaches to close the curtains of the only window in the room and like an idiot, he fumbles in place and ends up with his hand in the direct sunlight. He shrieks in pain and holds his hand to his chest. Geralt, scenting agony and hearing Jaskier yell, barges in without another moment of thought. Only to see Jaskier scrambling away from him in fear. In all his years of knowing Jaskier, he has NEVER been afraid of him. It physically pains Geralt to see it now. He doesn't understand why he wasn't allowed in. There's no lover of Jaskier's hiding in a corner embarrassed at being caught, Jaskier isn't indecent or anything, so why-? Then he looks at Jaskier, truly looks at him, and sees his blue eyes are glowing, and his mouth - Parted open as he pants - reveals fangs. Geralt's eyes dart to Jaskier's neck and it's confirmed. The worst part of it all, is the way Jaskier's eyes keep glancing between the door out of the room, and Geralt's silver sword. Geralt is infuriated. Not only did the woman Jaskier take to bed last night turn Jaskier into a vampire, but she also made Jaskier fear Geralt because of it. When Geralt says he isn't going to harm (let alone KILL like Jaskier had feared) Jaskier for the twentieth time, Jaskier finally believes him, and begs him to help him track the woman down. Geralt is intent on killing the vampire that ruined poor young human Jaskier's life. Jaskier is intent on getting his human-glamour, sunlight-immunity-enchantment ring back from this human he slept with, so he can go back to pretending he's human, like he has been doing for the past hundred or so years.

[spielzeugkaiser]

[MASTERPOST]

Eskel is like "I WILL read this book about... A wolf and all his friends? Dancing and being. happy... 🥺"

[vulpinesaint]

man whose smile is like. pus. :|

[zkretchy]

anyhow ...hi @alllthequeenshorses​

I am currently busy trying to figure out if for this lil spontaneous au idea I do wanna go all into the new quest but make it Kiyan and detective roadtrip or such

or if I myself wanna lean more towards Kiyans more canon place simply because that’d leave me with a body to bring him back to instead of just murder (think of it as a combined “who did it” with amnesia and also a possible happy ending beyond justice via revenge killing-I have many notes discussing this with myself and I do tend toward the latter because it can still allow for a somber “get revenge and die peacefully” end but with trauma literally buried leading towards more mystery stuff and idk if any of the things I wrote even made sense)

here is miniscule context

[wren-of-the-woods]

Ooh! How about held for the wip guessing game? <33

Thank you for the ask, Emma! This is from my AU where Renfri lives. It's probably not what you were going for with this word but it's what I've got 😂

She feels around her surroundings, trying to get a sense of what she is dealing with. The coffin is small. The lid only moves a little when she pushes at it; it is not locked, but it is held closed by the soil atop it.

Send me a word and I'll tell you if it appears in my WIPs!

[teatitty]

I feel like people don't appreciate enough that Dandelion is a fast slippery little fucker. Granted we don't see this much since the books are heavily Geralt POV, but it's mentioned that a lot of his dalliances involve him scaling up houses, jumping out of windows, sliding down drainpipes, running along rooftops etc and that is hard as fuck to do

He's basically committing AssCreed level parkour and is able to outrun almost anyone who comes after him. When he's not travelling with Geralt, he has to be able to get out of trouble by himself somehow and since he's not a fighter that means being good at running, hiding and talking

Not only this but in Last Wish, as someone pointed out on my posts once, it's shown that when riding his horse, he can effortlessly lift one leg to hook over the pommel of his saddle while playing his lute at the same time the horse is moving. That's a lot of skill and balance and knowing your own horse's temperment and what they're willing to put up with. He's not just a casual rider he's an experienced rider pulling off shit that you'd only see from pros

Idk man it's just a little irritating how often he's reduced to "horny silly bard" when he has these skills under his belt too and is obviously capable of keeping up with hunting parties and actual warriors without much issue ya know?

[alpaca-clouds]

One thing about Halsin

I am currently thinking way too much about Halsin, because... Again, I love this dude. He just is one of the most wholesome of your companions and... I did not know I needed a hunky, hairy elf, but apparently I needed a hunky, hairy elf.

But writing a bit more about him, I also have to say, that I also love him for the whumpy and angsty stories you can write for him. Given all we know, there is quite a lot of whumpy material in his past. Be it with him and the drows, or be it just the fact that he has already lost so much in his life.

(Also, yes, I am still going with: He is a werebear. Might write something about that later.)

Something I cannot help but think about, though, is... Well, look, I am not better than y'all. I am sexualizing the hell out of this man. Because... I mean... Just look at him! I am a simple man, and I just really would like to climb this mountain, you know?

But I cannot help but also think about how - if the character was real - he would feel about it. Because I can see that within the universe... Well, he is exotic. There are not a lot of hunky, hairy elves around. And while within elven society he would probably be seen as ugly (because usually elven societies do like androgynous looks - and DnD is not really different in that regard), he would also probably be seen as exotic enough that quite a few people would go: "But it's a kink!"

Especially given the fact that folks at the Sword Coast are generally quite liberal when it comes to sleeping around, I can kinda see a lot of folks just wanting to climb that mountain once, if you get my drift.

So I can see him both getting flirted with a lot - and sexually harassed as well. And given how he talks about his Underdark experience for the most part (as if it was not traumatizing at all), I think he would try to brush it off. But that does not mean, it is not hurting him, right?

Especially as he is yearning for a closer connection. Or has been for a long while before the curse at least. He wants a partner (or more).

And it might be I am projecting a bit much of book!Geralt onto him there, who is very much in a similar position (because he is a Witcher folks wanna bang him, but he wants a relationship and family, which nobody wants to have with a witcher).

And man, folks. Thinking about this just makes me want to hug this big bear of a man.

[perseruna]

Endiness made a beautiful long post with all his quotes on that topic that I think is very informative and worth looking at, so here’s a link to that. And with that already discussed, I thought I’d make a thread of all his changes that we are aware of, because when you look into them, you find that none of his “book accurate” changes are actually book accurate. 

His decision to make Geralt grunt and cut his lines.

HC: "All the grunts, I either added or I didn't say anything and just grunted instead. It was often up to the other actors to go, 'I think he's not gonna say anything now.'"

JB: "Henry likes to cut his lines, 'cause he's lazy. No, he literally just likes to cut them. He likes to do more up here [frames his face with his hands] and just with face and hmms and grunts. There's a lot of hmms, and so I often have to take a lot of his lines and turn it into a lot of my stuff so that the plot happens."

So, as everyone who has read the books knows that Geralt is and always has been a yapper. Gerakt often talks or thinks in monologues, and definitely not in short grunts.

Of course when the audience started making fun of Geralt for not being able to speak in full sentences Henry promptly went back on admitting the blame and instead said that the big bad writers were the ones who didn't give him lines, and now it was his life’s mission to fight for a book accurate Geralt who speaks. 

Roach’s death scene

After S2 came out, Lauren received a lot of backlash for Roach’s death scene, with multiple sources citing that she wanted the moment to be more “comedic” before the brave Henry Cavill stepped in and refused to participate in such horrible anti source material activities.

LH: "Henry was so unhappy with the line. Finally I said, 'You know what, you come up with something. I trust you, you know this material so well, you know the book so well, you don't even have to pitch it to me.' And he came back the next day with a beautiful speech that's at the end of 'Sword of Destiny' when Geralt is facing death.”

This is the line he ended up using:

“Enjoy your last walk across the meadow and through the mist. Be not afraid of her for she is your friend."

This was Lauren’s response AND the original line.

LH: “Here's what was scripted, in homage of the fact that a previous Roach had existed, and another one will exist soon. It's hardly a joke. Henry wanted a longer, more emotional moment, which I was more than happy to give him. Don't create drama where none exists.”

So in S2 Geralt ends up quoting a part of his monologue from ‘Sword of Destiny’ when he’s at his lowest after thinking that Yennefer had died at the battle of Sodden Hill, and he has nothing left to live for. Which to me doesn't work that well with Roach at all. That line was a response to Geralt thinking he's lost the love of his life, not his horse. In my opinion, the original line Lauren penned out is more heartfelt and actually more emotional and more book accurate as well.

The absolute removal of any Triss and Geralt “romance”

This one we don’t have that much information on in comparison to others. But there were multiple reports that at the beginning of S2 Triss and Geralt were supposed to have some kind of a romantic scene with each other which then was cut during production, and it was largely speculated that it was due to Henry Cavill. 

“Several months ago we reported on a sex scene happening between Geralt and Triss, sometime in the first half of Season 2. That didn’t happen, as we all saw, but here’s what we know about the original plan for that: Geralt and Triss are in a room together, they seem friendly at first. They are playing some kind of weird game. Whoever wins a round, gets to ask a question. We’re not privy to the exact flow of the conversation, but it eventually leads to both of them ending up in bed. We can only guess why this was cut, but perhaps it was thanks to Henry Cavill.”

Now, irrelevantly on your feelings on book Triss and Geralt you have to admit that that short-lived “romance” is indeed a part of the books and therefor book accurate. So the removal of it would go against Mr I’m fighting to make this show as much book accurate as possible. 

The removal of the Yen and Geralt sex scene in S2

"We just wanted to be very careful that it was true and real, and it didn't turn into something that we, as actors, didn't believe it should be," Cavill stated. When Yennefer and Geralt unite, they embrace, but it doesn't go further than that. He continued: "We wanted it to be emotional rather than sexual. It was really, really important, and we had to lean away from what was originally on the page." Initially, Geralt and Yennefer were written to have a more passionate night. Henry Cavill and Anya Chalotra went to "The Witcher" producers and explained why they thought a steamy evening was not the way to go. "These are people who believe one thing about the fate of another and then find out something else is true," Cavill said about Geralt believing Yennefer was dead. "That's not how they behave," the actor added. "How they behave is they just want to be with the person and emotionally recognize their existence again in that shared space.”

This one is a bit tricky because I am willing to get behind an actor who doesn't want to do a sex scene out of comfort reasons or whatnot, but Henry saying that "That's not how [Yennefer and Geralt] behave”, is quite absurd in my opinion. Because that is very much how Geralt and Yennefer behave, especially in the short stories and ToC. They are inherently a very sexual couple who come crashing in and out of each other’s lives while having very passionate sex. But I can understand wanting this scene to be more “emotional” (as if sex isn't emotional), so this one I am willing to give him a bit more leeway on. (But then again looking at the blinds saying that he refused any sex scenes because oh his “ideals” and was allegedly really nasty to Anya about it, well..)

Geralt being the perfect father figure to Ciri with no flaws and no struggles (which inevitably snowballed into the Yen Betrayal Arc)

This one I don’t see talked that much at all, and to me this one is his most detrimental one. 

@LHissrich: “In interviews, Henry explains how he felt strongly that Geralt NOT be bumbling, nor a struggling father figure. In fact, a lot of S2 is about how Geralt does come from a loving (albeit unconventional) family. Henry was passionate about this shift, and we discussed it a lot, and ultimately thought it was wonderful for his character development. But it also had the domino effect of changing what Ciri needed from Yen when she entered the picture. Thus, introducing the idea of balance.”

So I don’t know about you, but I love when characters have flaws and naturally progress be it for good or bad, some would say that that's what story telling is about, well that someone wouldn't be Henry Cavil. Geralt being a struggling father figure at first, someone who makes mistakes and learns from them and tries is very much a prominent theme in Blood of Elves and is actually very real, people make mistakes! Especially in huge shifts such as “becoming a father overnight’ but we didn't get that because Henry refused to play it that way. What we got is Geralt who already basically knows exactly how to parent, he always knows what to say, what pep talk to give and also doesn't hold any resentment and any negative feelings towards Vesemir at all. It's all one dimensional happy family here! Which goes against not only the books but what he preached about fighting tooth and nail to make the “forgotten” male characters three-dimensional as well because the horrible feminist Lauren only thinks about female characters. 

Lauren then goes on saying that “it also had the domino effect of changing what Ciri needed from Yen when she entered the picture. Thus, introducing the idea of balance” So, it is fair to speculate that Henry’s refusal to showcase Geralt having any flaws at all and act book accurate snowballed into The Controversial Yennefer Betrayal Arc. 

These are the ones that I can remember off the top off my head, so there might be more, there’s probably more that we aren’t even aware of. I think putting them all together showcase a very interesting picture. One of Henry Cavill never actually understanding who Geralt fundamentally is as a character, and of him not being a team player at all. I just hope that more and more people are aware of the insane PR his team did for him when it came to this show, and that more people are able to see through it. 

[geraskierfanficprompts]

Prompt 90

Jaskier accidentally ingests a love potion, and becomes obsessed with Geralt. He sings him songs, reads him poetry, hugs him and compliments him and blows him kisses. ... Okay so he's acting as he always does. But he desires more touch and affection from Geralt, and who is Geralt to deny his enchanted friend? But Geralt eventually has to leave for a hunt, and Lovepotioned up Jaskier would be in terrible danger if he came with, so Geralt commands he stay back at the inn. He comes back to an absolutely inconsolable bard who keeps asking Geralt what he did wrong, and how he can better for Geralt to love him again. Geralt awkwardly tries to talk his friend through it, before giving up on talking and just giving Jaskier a quick chaste kiss. Jaskier stops blubbering and immediately is overjoyed, enjoying Geralt snuggles the rest of the night. Jaskier sleeps in a bit the next morning, but Geralt wakes him up with a kiss to his forehead and a tender hug. For the rest of the day, Jaskier looks more surprised with every touch or sentence Geralt gives him, which is a tad odd, as the first day of the potion, Jaskier seemed only happy and relieved when Geralt gave him love. Now, Jaskier seems shocked by Geralt's audacity, though still very happy about it. Geralt finally reaches Yennefer, who Jaskier did not know they were on their way to visit. Geralt asks for Yennefer to lift the love potion's curse from Jaskier, only for her to explain it's not there. It was clearly one that wore off in a day. That mean this entire day Jaskier wasn't enchanted but he and Geralt kept acting like it. Jaskier profusely apologizes, already in tears, and confesses he just liked Geralt giving him affection, touch, and praise. Geralt pays Yennefer for her time wasted and scoops up his bard to head back to an inn so they can calm down. Geralt is embarrassed, but not angry, per se. He tells Jaskier this, and gives him a kiss on the forehead. "All you had to do was ask, Bard." "I promise it was real at first!" "I know, Jask." "But you kissed me and held me and-" "I know, Jask." "I'm sorry." "It's forgiven, bard. We don't have to stop." That night, both bard and witcher fell asleep, wrapped around each other, both's lips bruised from kissing.

[spielzeugkaiser]

hi, first off i really love your art. the h/c and warmth really hit me where i live and your illustration style is fantastic. lately i've been obsessed with the post where an unwell milek thinks geralt will leave him behind. was that an ingrained insecurity, assuming his super-witcher dad wouldn't have time for a sickly human kid?

[MASTERPOST] - Ahh, thank you for the ask! Yes, this scene.. I actually saw this a bit differently! It's not about Milek fearing Geralt will leave him behind, he actually wants him to. They need to find his Pa!! I think he often feels like a burden; Jaskier knows this, but Geralt isn't aware of this yet. Milek just wants to pull his weight, especially with Jaskier. A little sneak peak to their struggles regarding this:

Meanwhile Jaskier continues to struggle with his omega status.

[iliumheightnights]

Clark kent (Cavill) and his boyfriend/husband- dealers choice. Sitting down to watch the witcher and as soon as Geralt starts talking we pause and look at clark.

“Babe? Go ‘hmmm’ for me”

"Hmmmm." M/n blinked at his boyfriend. "So...um..." He put his hands together and took a breath before pointing at Clark. "Do you have a secret acting career I don't know about or do you have a secret twin brother?"

Clark looked even more confused. "What are you talking about?"

"Do you...do you seriously not see it?" M/n almost made a noise when he saw how confused Clark still was. "I'm just...you look EXACTLY like Henry Cavill. Are you sure that's not you!?" "Honey. I promise. I'm not a secret actor. Okay?" He pulled M/n into him. "Okay." For a while, they sat there in an embrace. Suddenly M/n pulled out his phone. "I'm ordering a Geralt costume. I NEED to see you in this. I swear I'm not going crazy."

[lassieposting]

Okay so

In the last ep of S2, we see Jaskier asleep in a room at Kaer Morhen. There are three interesting details about this scene.

The room actually looks somewhat lived-in compared to the empty, spiderweb-ridden rooms Ciri explores in an earlier episode. Jaskier hasn't been at Kaer Morhen long enough to have a lived-in guest room.

When Yennefer gets him out of bed, we see him grab his coat, which is lying next to a mostly-empty bottle of booze. He also asks Yen if she's making a hangover cure, because he feels like shit. He wasn't drunk when Geralt asked him to take Ciri home, so we know that his first night at Kaer Morhen, he got white girl wasted.

He's mostly dressed in bed. Like, he's still got his boots on, even. The only thing he seems to have taken off is his coat. But he's not shivering or curled up like he's very cold. He seems quite comfy.

This makes me think five things.

Jask met Geralt's family for the first time and promptly got blitzed with them. That's why he's the only one in the keep with a hangover - they can't get drunk on his booze.

What do Jaskier and the Witchers have in common to talk about? Well, Geralt, of course. Not only do Vesemir and the boys get a detailed rundown of every amusing anecdote Jask has from his 20+ years travelling with Geralt (along with a heaped helping of Poetic Drunken Yearning - gods, where did Geralt get this walking bag of feelings?), but Jask also gets treated to Every Embarrassing Thing Baby!Geralt Ever Did.

The room looks lived-in because it's Geralt's. Everyone was too busy drinking and spilling tea to think about making up a guest room for the bard. So when Jaskier finally passes the fuck out, and Vesemir tells Lambert to find him a bed to sleep it off in, Lambert goes "Eh, close enough" and sticks him in Geralt's. Geralt's twink. Geralt's problem.

This is also why Jaskier is still almost totally dressed, boots and all. Lambert is so not going there: he's a Witcher, not a nanny or a nurse. He drops Jask on the bed, flings a blanket over him and calls it a day.

At some point post-S2, Geralt is going to wake up in a cold sweat at like 3am and realise that leaving his bard unattended with his family was a Terrible Idea and they definitely swapped stories and he's not going to hear the end of it from anyone for a really long time

[fan-goddess]

A Mutual Feeling Of Hate

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Strong!reader

Summary: As Aemond Targaryen rounds up the male Strongs, he realises one man is missing, and in his hunt for him, he finds you…

Warnings: Explicit talk, p in v smut, breeding kink, murder, talk of SA, oral f receiving, praise in Valyrian, riding, sadism and masochism, jealously sex, exhibitionism, marking, let me know if I’ve missed anything

Taglist: @valeskafics, @arcielee, @blue-serendipity,

Authors note: I’m not as happy as I’d like to be, but still here we go hope you guys like it. It was my first time writing on Google docs 😅

Harrenhal had never truly been your home. Throughout the years you were forced to live there, in your eyes it had always been your husbands. Although according to him and, in the more recent years to come it would soon become the home of yours and his children too..

Your husband, Geralt Strong, had been merely a second son when the two of you first married. Yet after the tragedies that struck Lord Lyonel Strong and his eldest son and heir Harwin, it soon hit you that your husband was only an accident away from being appointed the supposed honour of representing his house as its Lord. However, you were not the only one who noticed this predicament, as soon after Larys was appointed with no wife or children of his own, your husband decreed it was time for you to fulfil your wifely duties, and provide him with heirs of his own.

He’d been drunk every time that he tried to force himself onto you, but apparently he was too weak-souled to do it while sober. The man would become so incapacitated, that he’d pass out from overindulgence before he could even properly get off his breeches. For the first time in your life, you were grateful to be married to such a weak minded man.

Although, to play your role in the supposedly ever so slowly closing in win of his succession, you would force yourself to finish taking off his breaches, and stroke him till he burst in your hand, to make it seem like he’d actually completed his part. When he eventually spilled, you would always feel disgusted, wanting nothing more than to wash it all off and clean your whole body of his filth, and yet you found a strange joy  in it. Thinking that whenever you were forced to lick the salty taste off of your hands, you were practically eating his children, and his legacy from your very hands. In a strange way, you found honour as you played one of the gods…

Still, when your husband was not drunk, and managed to have his way with you, you still requested moon tea. A wet nurse that you surprisingly found yourself becoming close confidants with named Alys, would somehow always come to you whenever you need it, a small vial in her hand in preparation.

However, when the banners of war were officially brought out of hiding, and calls for soldiers and blood broke out amongst the land, your husband became much too preoccupied by the impending doom of Harrenhal to bother you. You can remember clearly in your mind the day Daemon and his men came for you all. It was something everyone present would remember. Ser Simon, the man who led House Strong while Larys was in kings Landing, was not a man in your eyes that day, as he surrendered easily during the assault of Daemon's attack. It was not difficult to spot Daemon Targaryen amongst the many of his men from your window, the colouring of his hair making him stand out when his helmet was shrugged off, and the wish that your husband could’ve been more like him stood out to you whenever you saw the man. You could not help but feel envious of the usurped queen whenever you saw him standing valiantly and without fear.

That however, was why It was strange, when the prince and all of his men left all of sudden in the night. All pondered over the reason, but then came the sound of a dragon's wings, and the distinctive noise of a dragon's roar, the sound of it echoed and vibrated through the air. It was not Daemon coming back, no. It was the colour green of their banners that told you who they were, and what this meant for you. It was time for you to shed yourself of that ‘Strong’ husband of yours.

Your husband in question has pushed past you to look on in horror as the men in green and gold marched closer. And while he was gawking down below at the sight, you yourself took hold of the intricately carved dagger that was gifted to you by your mother. There was no real need for you to be quiet, as Geralt's eyes remained solely on the now revealed Targaryen below, and when you stood behind Geralt silent to also get a glimpse of the sight, you were most definitely not disappointed.

It was not hard to decipher that it was Aemond Targaryen who stood there, and demanded that a sword be given to Simon Strong. The eyepatch that hung over his disfigured left eye made it easy to realise which Targaryen stood there. He uttered something to the trembling man, but sadly you were unable to hear what it was he spoke.

You were surprised though, when Simon Strong it seemed had finally grown a backbone, as he fought the prince in what was seemingly a trial by combat. However, it seemed he grew it too early, as the sound of clashing of swords was soon over, and instead the sound of a dragon's cry echoed soon after. It wasn’t until you heard the screams till you realised that the prince had fed the mangled corpse of the man to his dragon Vhagar. He made the man, who to you was undeserving of his own blood, into something as meaningless to his dragon as a common sheep. If you weren’t occupied with standing a few paces back from Geralt ready to strike him down, you most likely would’ve gone down to the prince and given him your utter devotion and loyalty, if he didnt make you into food for his dragon too that is.

The voice of Aemond Targaryen rings again, as you yourself twirl the dagger in your hand in preparation, and it booms loud enough for all to hear throughout the castle. “Bring me the rest of the men who possess the blood of House Strong!” You cannot help but feel excited at the tone the prince holds. Madness, and a type of pure unrelenting rage. It’s not hard to tell what the intention of his demand is, even the dumbest of men would be able figure out what he wants to do.

You almost miss your opportunity as you get swept up in your own excitement. Still, you make a noise similar to a yelp in an attempt to draw Geralt's attention from the spectacle below, and when he responds just how you had planned for him to act, with his body and neck turning swiftly to you in sudden alarm, you waste no time in plunging the dagger deep into the flesh of Geralt's neck. You can feel the warm specks of his blood as it splatters onto your face as you withdraw the blade, and as he staggers towards you while clutching the profusely bleeding wound in a poor attempt to stop it, you cannot help but find yourself smiling at the utterly pathetic sight. Thanks to the one-eyed prince and his hatred, there will be no more ‘Strong’ men left to stand in your way to freedom, and no so called ‘respected’ witnesses to your crime.

There’s a small series of grunts that manage to make their way from your husband's blood gargling throat. Although, soon his stumbles become too weak, and he collapses onto the hard stone floor. His movements are weak, as he seems to use all of his energy so he could look up and stare up at you. If you were honest with yourself, the sight before you feels like the greatest honour you could ever think of, to watch the life leaving Geralt's eyes. You feel like you are playing one of the Gods, because thanks to you, they are now forever immortalised with a permanent look of confusion and betrayal.

It hits you though, a thought of realisation that makes your very spine shiver in annoyance. The thought being, that there is no doubt about it, that the prince already has a list of names of those that he needs to kill in his rampage, in order to properly eradicate the house Strong once and for all. If he didn’t… Well then, the prince is more of an idiot than you took him for. Your husband was the man set to inherit everything if and when Larys Strong is to pass. So there is no doubt in your mind that he’ll be one that the prince will wish to make sure is dead at his feet.

There is a sudden knock at the door that drives you away from your thoughts, and you just know that it is the prince's men who have come to fulfil their orders. You take a moment to prepare yourself to play the role of the already mourning wife. The tears you feel drop from your eyes are fake, and yet as you open the door a fraction, the men who look at you see no difference. They’re young, only a couple name days older than you, and you thank the gods because of it, as with their inexperience they will be unable to decipher your tricks. In their eyes, you have already seen the taking of your husband, and by the blood on your face, he was taken not so long ago with some force.

They say no real words to you, other than a small grunt you presume is a type of apology, and leave you to your supposed mourning of your husband in solitude. Though as soon as you shut the door, you grab a chair and manoeuvre it to the window to watch the show below go on.

The sight of the one eyed prince successfully slaying an entire house brings a small smile to your face. He makes the man or boy say their name, and what makes them a Strong. The first to be slaughtered was Ser Simon, and soon after it was clear to all that not even the unclear bastards, with blood muddled and unknown origin, were even safe. None were spared from the Kinslayers blade.

From the balcony soon after the full-blooded men were slaughtered, you watched the beheading of an eleven name day old child. From your understanding of Harrenhal, the only reason that boy was here was because his mother was forced upon by the wrong man, and he refused to allow her the opportunity to rid herself of the child. It’s a sad sight, even you must admit, but there is truly nothing you can do other than let the show below go on.

It’s not long until the pile of corpses stops being enlarged, as the prince's men are forced to halt in their duty in bringing the men. The sounds of bloodshed are soon broken by the many sounds of high pitched women crying for their loves and their families. When you turn your head to look back at your own husband, still laying there in his own blood and filth, you can’t help but let out a scuff of disgust and disbelief, before turning back to continue to watch the prince.

You cannot help but ponder when it’ll happen. What will happen when the prince will eventually realise that no man has come forward to be slaughtered bearing the name of your husbands. Though it appears as soon as you begin to question it, the prince questions it too. “WHERE IS THE MAN THEY CALL GERALT STRONG?” He shouts. His voice somehow managed to echo over the sounds of the crying wives and daughters that resonated from their windows.

One guard steps forward, possibly one of the two who had visited your chambers earlier, but he’s too far to tell or not. He leans to whisper something into the prince's ear, and when the guard leans away, the prince looks somewhere in your direction. You can almost swear that you lock eyes with him, though he soon quickly looks away, before whispering some words to a knight, and beginning to walk towards the part of Harrenhal you reside in.

He disappears from your line of sight, and you begin to wonder if he’ll be searching all the rooms for Geralt. Though once again, It’s not long before you hear the sound of your chamber door being opened, with a loud creak of the handle. There is a sound of footsteps, although they seem to halt quickly. If you had to guess, they must have spotted the corpse. When you turn your head slightly, your eyes once more meet the single lilac eye of the princes. Although he does not make the contact last long as he breaks it to stare at the pitiful view of Ser Geralt Strong, still laying there in the pool of his own blood.

His face gives no indication of any particular emotion other than annoyance. Though you can’t help but notice an unfamiliar glint in his eyes as he looks back at you. “I thought I had ordered my men to bring me every living male strong.” It is not a question, as there is not a single inch of confusion in his tone. This was a statement.

“I know…” It's a strange feeling that resonates within you the longer the prince looks at you. One that makes your entire body strangely burn in a pleasurable sense. Not that you’d ever know what that would even feel like… “Your men followed their orders as they were told, my prince. As he was not alive before your men rounded them all to be apart of your genocide.”

You see that glint once more in his eye. It looks almost similar to admiration?

“I presume you are Geralt Strong's lady wife. Did you truly hate the man that much for you to risk your safety to kill him?” Again, this was not a real question. This was another statement and a demand directed for you. From the look in his eye, he already knew the answer.

“You are correct.” You say no more, and you don’t even need to, as the now dried blood that is still present on your face, slightly sticky to the touch you figured, and your eyes that have managed to remain bone dry with a matching expressionless face. They seem to say more than you ever could. Plus if anything, it seems the prince is the more emotional one in the room between the two of you. His own face holds in its possession a small smile, which looks much more akin to a prideful smirk, while your own is hellbent in an attempt to stay blank.

The two of you stay silent, him standing there not taking his eye of you, while you yourself continue to sit in your chair unmoving. It was strangely peaceful, until the prince began to walk towards you and took your throat in his hand, holding it firmly to not allow you head to move, but not too hard that you couldn’t breath.

“I suppose I must thank you…” He seems to muse, taking in your face as he presents it to himself. “Although-” He cuts himself off, peering down at your stomach with an almost pondering look. “How do I not know that you are currently hiding a Strong inside of your womb from me at this very moment?”

“Because I drink moon tea of course, my prince. Why would I wish to potentially burden my future children with the tainted blood that ran through my husband's veins, when there are hundreds of men throughout the seven kingdoms who easily possess blood ten times purer than his ever did?”

“And who are these men then my lady? Could you name a few so I may have an idea of your idea of pure blood?” He’s playing with you. Testing you even. And yet you must admit that it’s honestly the most fun you’ve had in Harrenhal the entire time you’ve been held practically as a captive there.

“Well there’s your brother of course, the king of the seven kingdoms…” The trail was unintentional, but you couldn’t help but let the next words die on your tongue just so you could admire the thundering glare on the prince's face at the mention of the king. You had heard about the disputes between the two, but you had no idea that this supposed brotherly hate ran so deep between them.

“Tell me who else,” He growls. The sound of it mixed with the feeling of his hand tightening around your neck sending the pure feeling of electricity straight to your already wet core.

“Why there’s many men, my prince! It wasn't like it was hard to possess purer blood than that of a Strong! There’s Dalton Greyjoy… Cregan Stark… Joffrey Arryn… I would even count your own Uncle Daemon to be possessing purer blood than my husband. He is probably one of the few men I would allow to give me my pure children…” With each man you list, the prince's face darkens more and more. You intended to play with the prince at first by making sure to name the men who appeared to side with his half-sister in regards to the throne. Similarly to how he had been teasing you moments ago. However, it seems you played too close to the flames. As when the name of his uncle, and now the name of a man seen as a sworn enemy of the crown, is mentioned from your lips, the prince pulls your face towards his own by the grip on your neck, and claims you with a fiery kiss. The warmth of him spread throughout you, and It truly at that moment felt like you were playing with a true dragon…

“What about me, sweet girl? Am I of purer blood than that of your dead tainted husbands? Am I worthy enough to overflow your womb with my seed and show the kingdoms of how worthy I am?” His whispers make your whole body burn up, as if the blood of the dragon was running through your veins.

“I cannot say my prince… I think you’ll have to show me if you truly think you are worthy enough…” It is the feral-like sound from which the prince releases from deep within, that reminds you once more who it is who is about to claim both you and your body. A dragon. That is what stands before you, and is ready to claim you and change your life forever.

The feeling of the prince's body forcibly overpowering your own as he drags you from the chair you were previously on to the bed, brings a feeling throughout you that Geralt could never have ever achieved.

“Present yourself fully to your prince.” The words drip with lust and desire, as he does not even wait for you to properly respond. Instead, he just tears the weak material straight from your body, leaving you left in only your small clothes before him. His single eye roams over your body greedily to take all of your nude self in. However, you can see it stop at the sight of your heaving chest, your shallow breaths leaving your chest to stutter slightly.

“Gevie…” He mutters before taking a hardened nipple in his mouth and sucking hard, no doubt forcing deep coloured marks to form soon after this is over. His mouth wanders even lower though, sucking and biting gently in his wake, before stopping at the skin of your inner thighs, biting softly at the flesh. The sensations make small whines to leave your mouth whenever his teeth seemingly went deep enough to leave indents of his teeth.

The prince does not appear to be in a hurry. As instead of acting like a true dragon would and just taking you, he just stares at the fabric concealing your dripping core from him with a hooded eye. He does not even attempt to move it, as a lone hand of his simply brushes over the fabric lightly. Your head tilts back at the pleasure, so you are unable to see him grinning proudly at the sound of your whines for him when he does this again, and again. Maybe this is your punishment for mentioning his traitorous uncle? Or maybe he is just simply teasing you again…

“Please my prince… show me how I deserve to be blessed with your seed…” You whine, the words must have driven some part of him, as the next thing you know, your smallclothes are being torn off you like the rest of your clothes, and a warm wet tongue is feasting on your cunt giving you the best pleasure you’ve felt in your whole life.

“Oh fuck!” You shout. There is no real need to be quiet, as who is there to hear you? While you yourself are moaning loud enough for the seven to hear, you almost miss the sounds of the prince's own groans, seemingly already addicted to the taste of your arousal that all but leaks from your quivering body onto his awaiting and eager tongue.

“Ao sylutegon se sȳrje … kesan brōzagon ao ñuha mērī ābra sir till se mōris…” He groans into the depth of your cunt, the vibrations adding that extra arousal needed to begin your push over the edge. The words themselves mean nothing to you, and you find that you don’t really care, as you feel the coil deep within you begin to tighten more and more. “Please my prince let me cum!” You shout, “Please my prince!” You try to stop yourself from releasing, you really do, but at the sight of the prince's head seemingly nodding in allowance, you feel yourself releasing on the prince's talented tongue harshly, leaving you breathless and lightheaded.

While you attempt to try and recover from your peak, you can still feel his tongue inside of you, the wet sounds reaching your ears. He acts as if he was trying to claim and taste the last remnants of your peak and arousal, before he no doubt soon rips another from your quivering body.

As the prince lifts his body up to take off his own clothing, you get the glimpse of his arousal covered face. In the current light, you can see his mouth and his chin shining, and it spreads an entire new feeling of arousal within you you didn’t even know was possible. It only worsens though, as you watch him collect some of your juices from his chin with his finger, before sucking on it with an appreciative sound as the taste glides over his tongue.

“Do not call me your prince, call me by my name. Call me Aemond.” He mutters, before he silences your response as he bends to your level to claim your lips with his own.

It’s the combined taste of your arousal on his lips, and the feeling of his erect cock touching the skin of your inner leg, that makes a pathetic whine leave your lips. You almost release another, when the prince, no Aemond, backs away for a moment to look at you with a hooded expression. He truly looks like a dragon about to devour you…

The prince's hands trail over your sweat layered skin with the kind savagery only seen belonging to a man in war. Because by technicality, he is. Aemond Targaryen has no idea when he will die in this Targaryen bloodshed, so he makes sure that he acts on his desires and takes all that you will give to him with great pleasure.

He pumps his cock a few times, to which you watch with eager eyes at the sight of beads of his pleasure coming from the tip of his cock. Much to your surprise and gratitude though, he inserts himself slowly inside of you, and the mixed sounds of his and yours groans of pleasure echo in the room, mixing as one.

Soon, the feeling of the prince's careful and precise thrusts whilst pleasurable, becomes not enough for you. Your legs hook around the prince's waist, and you take Aemond by surprise as you turn the two of you over and take no time in beginning to bounce harshly on his cock.

The deep groans that the prince lets out at the new position are easily one of the most beautiful things you’ve ever heard in your entire life. “Qogralbar… Konir sagon ziry… sȳz līve gūrogon aōha pleasure hen aōha dārilaros…” Again, the strange words' ,most likely to be that of Valyrian, are lost on you. But the way they sound coming from his tongue specifically, spark something almost primal deep inside. The grip that Aemond has on the skin of your thighs, will no doubt leave harsh and deep coloured bruises, and yet when you feel the sparks of pain from his actions, equally arousing sparks of pleasure get sent all the way up your spine.

Your hands grasp at Aemonds skin for some kind of stability, and your nails dig into his skin so harshly as you try to ground yourself, that you can see small droplets of blood beginning to mark the surrounding flesh. The very sight of it though does not deter you, and if anything it makes you harsher in your efforts for another peak to wash over you.

Although, Aemond surprises you by gripping at your hips and beginning to harshly thrust himself upwards into your wet heat. His cock reached the rough patch deep inside of you that you never knew existed. You were so invested in this new pleasure though, that you had no idea that at this development you had begun to practically shout your pleasures loudly and clearly into the room.

As his cock head bullies that spot inside you, one of his hands reaches to take hold of your neck similarly to earlier. But the grip he holds you now is harsher and less careful, and it makes you breathless. “Oh fuck…” You murmur as your head begins to fill with a strange fuzziness sensation. You feel like you could honestly die there and then. You’ve never felt this type of pleasure before. Never with your husband, and not even with yourself whenever you tried exploring your body as a young girl. The feelings that Aemond was giving you, made the entire world numb, and your body fucking electric.

“Will you let me shoot my seed deep inside you?” Finally, he speaks some words you can understand, other than his deep groans he was serenading you with moments ago. “Will you allow me to show the seven kingdoms the woman who carries my babe in her belly?”

The whine you let out is involuntary, as well as the imagery that comes to mind of you walking eagerly with the prince, a swelling belly officially holding the babe of a man worthy of possessing his blood inside of your womb.

“Yes my prince… show me exactly how worthy you are of me…” A devious idea comes to mind, and a smirk is present on your face as you next speak. “Show me if you truly are better than my husband, the Strong…”

Aemonds face visibly darkens with anger, and the grip that he holds your skin with tightens. His thrusts are harsh as he forcibly brings you to your peak, the feeling of it all rushing through your body at speeds you had no idea was imaginable.

Even when you feel yourself try to recover, the overstimulation begins to set in as Aemond continues to thrust up into you, even as you begin to go numb all over. Still, you’re thankful at the sound of Aemonds deep growl as you feel the warmth of his cum fill you to your brim.

As you gaze down at the heaving body of Aemond, your eyes drink him all in. The blood that you had caused to be brought up from his chest, ran in small delicate trails down his skin, and it excited you all over again to see it. 

A knock rings from the door, and to your surprise, Aemond merely sits up to hold you in his arms and tells the person to enter.

It is not a man who enters, but a boy who looks as if he was already scarred by the war he has joined. It is a pity to even look at, but it certainly looks up as you see the shock on the boy's face when he observes the room and spots the body of your former husband, now stiff and pale on the floor.

“What is it you need?” Aemond snaps, his tone making the boy's eyes snap to look at him, only for the boy's eyes to wander to you, and takes over you unashamedly. He is only able to see the nude form of your back, and yet your body still burns with a mixture of embarrassment and arousal at the situation.

“Ser Cole said that when we are sure all the male Strongs were dead, we were to await your orders my prince.”

“Now that the males are dead, I command you to tell the others to make sure that they leave no Strong alive, except this one… this one will be of great use to me…” Aemond murmurs, a single finger tracing the skin of your face to look only at him, as he gazes at you deeply.

You can hear the door shut behind you, and while the silence overcomes the room you cannot help but question Aemonds previous command. “What of the women like me?” The prince raises a single brow, as if he is confused. Yet he is Aemond Targaryen, the man who has near successfully committed a whole genocide on a single house in one day. You cannot allow him to dodge a question on the basis of fake confusion. “Women born not of house Strong, and yet sold to them to be wedded and bedded for their blood to be spread?”

“Why little one they too must die, for they have had the seed of a strong taint their womb forever more. While you on the other hand my lady, knew of the tainted blood of House Strong, and rightfully rid yourself of any opportunity to taint yourself. House Strong must die, my darling, and not only by blood, but by name as well. Surely you must understand, given out shared hatred moments ago?”

“Is my name not Strong currently, my prince?” You tease. Your face widening in a content smile as Aemond dots wet and no doubt marking kisses on the skin of your neck, high enough so your collars may not cover them, so all could see who has done this to you.

“Soon my darling… soon it shall be Targaryen. And it shall also be the name of my son who is currently sleeping in your belly…”

His hand traces your skin, and you hope he does not raise it higher in fear that he will hear the sound of your heart racing at his words. You cannot find yourself able to reply to him, as the words seem to die in your throat. Instead, you simply lay your head on his shoulder, and try to blank out the high feminine screams of your fellow women as they begin to echo on the cold castle walls. The single tear that begins to roll from your eye could easily have been from the emotional turmoil you have faced, or it could easily be sadness and regret of what you have just done. You will never know…

High Valyrian Translates Part:

• Gevie - beautiful

• Ao sylutegon se sȳrje… kesan brōzagon ao ñuha mērī ābra sir till se mōris - You taste the best… I will call you my only woman now till the end

• Qogralbar… Konir sagon ziry… sȳz līve gūrogon aōha pleasure hen aōha dārilaros - fuck… thats it… good whore take your pleasure from your prince

[catscraftsandcommentary]

So I had some time to think tonight at work (in between operating heavy machinery, swearing at the materials, and trying to keep the line running, fun times!) And I asked myself, "self, hypothetically, what might @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU look like in another generation or two - once people really get used to witchers being The Good Guys (TM) and helping out?"

And I was like "well, they'd probably get invited to social events - ooh! Who'd like which events best?!? What would that look like?"

Geralt, as we all know, detests anything too formal or Warlord-focused. He enjoys weddings and receptions, but his TRUE favorite is baby christenings. Seriously. Put him in a room with a tiny baby and he's happy as a clam. He'll happily growl away (or weaponize his puppy-dog eyes against) grannies, aunties, and other family members to hold the baby for as long as possible. He's also 90% of the reason that witchers are now rumored to be able to bless babies.

When Mouse and Treyse bring this new rumor to the council, everyone has to just sit. And process for a minute. Because what the ever-loving fuck?!? (Jaskier immediately writes the sweetest lullaby ever, "A Witcher's Blessing", and it is the ONLY song that Geralt ever sings in public, and only ever to babies and small children. Multiple women blame this for their immediate conceptions.)

Jaskier adores weddings and festivals of all types, and if a happy couple includes details of how they met and/or fell in love with their wedding invitation, there's at least a 50% chance that he'll show up to the wedding with a personalized love song, holy shit.

Ciri loves tourneys. Loves watching them, loves displaying in them, loves sneaking into competing in them (omg, heir, NO), loves WINNING them. She's a menace. She has various stealth coats of arms that she rotates between when she's not supposed to be competing, but her favorite is the battle goose. Obviously.

Eskel doesn't like crowds or being the center of attention, which are almost inevitable with public invitations, but he does enjoy being the +1 for his family. Several of his and their interests overlap, and even where they don't, he likes to see them enjoying themselves.

Yennifer becomes well-known as an extremely efficient - albeit terrifying - treaty negotiator. She'll talk to both sides, get a list of their must haves, deal-breakers, would-likes, and don't-wants (as well as - perhaps more importantly - the reason why each of those are on that particular list). Then she draws up a draft and viciously negotiates a compromise. She is genuinely surprised the first time that both sides thank her for her help.

Vesemir, with all his long years of teaching, loves visiting schools and seeing any sort of student performance or sporting event. Kindergarten to university, drama to music to dance recitals to track and field meets to football games to student symposiums to science contests to... He buys out bake sales and funds club field trips and donates several fortunes worth of antique knick knacks to various schools. He's invited as a guest lecturer, a commencement speaker, a competition judge, a referee.

Lambert and Aiden, at some point, discover bachelor's parties, call dibs, and never look back. People learn very quickly not to invite witchers to their stag nights unless they want the entire party to get horrifyingly drunk - but at least Lam and Aiden will make sure that everyone makes it home (or to the wedding) safely. Perhaps not soberly, or sans hangover, but definitely without major injury. (And if the bride asks nicely and the groom and friends weren't total jerks, Lambert can usually be counted on to make a hangover cure. He really is a softie at heart.)

Dragonfly and Serrit get tapped for the odd bachelorette party or ladies' birthday parties. Anything that falls under "I want to be able to drink and party with my friends without worrying about some strange guy hurting one of us." They are extremely protective and have both been drunkenly proposed to several times. (Livi finds this terribly amusing. Gweld just wants to know if he can watch.) Milena and Zofia sometimes go with them.

Milena loves going to wedding showers and baby showers, but outside Kaer Morhen, she has to stay in sight of Lambert or one of his brothers. Lambert's rule. (She got KIDNAPPED, okay? He's allowed to worry!) Usually she'll take Geralt (there might be babies! He's excellent protection!) or Eskel (he's very quiet and has excellent manners, and his signs are impossible to fight) for the more, ah, female-heavy events. If anyone asks, they're her brother-in-law and genuinely like spending time around kids. And very, very married.

[islenthatur]

So we all know the stories where Jaskier collects Witchers like dnd players and dice, how could he not!? And we all know that the ones where Witchers collect Jaskiers friendship too.

But honestly, I just want a fic where the Witchers mounts and lil bleater just collect the noisy-colourful-being-withsnacks...

Animals are smart okay, the horses talk to eachother because how else would they get civilised conversation and of course they'd brag about who carried the heaviest for longest, how many times their stupid people got hurt...

Roach starts off complaining about the noisy-being that followed them one day that just never stopped making noises or trying to pet her. The years pass and the complaints turn into fondess and she comes home more full and cared for than she had in a long time and her witcher does too.

The others, Scorpion, horse, lil bleater all want to meet the human, try to ease their own witchers burdens and just... does.

Jaskier is away from geralt for a competition, and suddenly, he has a very insistent goat bleating at him, pushing him off the road towards Eskel who was injured.

It just goes on from there... Lambert's mount Horse finds him, lips at the pants roach knew held sugar cubes and both Lambert and Jaskier stare at eachother awkwardly while he feeds horse the cubes.

Word travels between the mounts, a hawk that was a familiar to a Griffin flys down and rests on Jaskiers lute while playing, scaring the fuck out of him but shows him to another injured witcher.

Then the mountain happens

Roach loses her horse mind in anger at her Witcher, there would be no more soft songs, no more flowers in her main or apples, her Noisy-foal gone...

The animals revolt, it's a hard season for all witchers and when Geralt gets back after Cintra and Jaskier is with him the animals just go absolutely ballistic in joy and surround him

All the witchers are just watching with the most adorable wtf faces ever.

[schleiereule-94]

A Bard and a Witcher – Part 1

Pairing: Geralt x Jaskier x aFab!Reader

Summary: You were after some fun when you made your way to the inn this evening, and boy did you find it. Both the bard and his witcher friend are more than happy to satisfy your desire.

Warning(s): SMUT MINORS DNI, porn w/o much plot, fingering, penetrative sex (lots of it), unprotected p in v, threesome, dirty talk (both degrading and some praise, cursing), rough sex, size kink, belly bulge, oral (both f and am receiving), she is not talking much but enjoys being used

Author’s Note: This is my first fic, so I hope it is up to standards... Not beta read and not an english native, so be kind if you find mistakes. I have a second part almost done (bc I am a horny mess for these two...).

You didn’t know what you were getting yourself into walking towards the inn this night. You were just looking for some distraction, some fun for a change. A good looking stranger, some beer and maybe even a dance. But now… 

You didn’t see the witcher in the corner at first. You sat at the bar listening and laughing at the bards’ songs. He was young, good looking. His name was Jaskier and he looked exactly like what you were after. You’ve thrown him some looks that made him almost stumbled over his words. 

“A short break to water my throat” he announced shortly after and he walked up to you at the bar, grinning sheepishly. “You’re funny” you complimented him. “And you look… breathtaking” he replied with a dramatic gesture, eyeing you up and down. He extended his hand to you “Jaskier is my name.” His gaze got stuck on your breasts. You smiled and leaned a bit more towards him to grant him a better look into your cleavage. “Y/n.” You moved to the side to make just enough space at the bar so he could squeeze in next to you.  “What brings you here bard?”, you asked as he took his place and grabbed a pint of beer from the barmaid. Your arm touched his lightly and you felt the warm feeling of excitation building up in you. “We’re on the way to Cintra.” “Cintra, hm. That’s a long trip. Who’s we?” you asked innocently.

He nodded over his shoulder to the darker part of the inn. Sitting there was a big, bulky figure, a grey hood over his head, long white hair spilling out from under it. You couldn’t make out the face clearly. When you squinted your eyes to see the stranger better he suddenly looked up and golden eyes stared directly into your soul. Your heart missed a beat and your breath hitched. The bard must have taken notice of your reaction as he let out a laugh. “That’s Geralt. Geralt of Rivia, I’m sure you’ve heard of him?”. Without taking your eyes off the man you nodded slightly. “Yes, yes I have heard of him.” The yellow pupils bore into you. A weird feeling bordering on fear stirred up in your chest. It made you want to run away. Your legs tensed, but you kept staring back captured by the tension in your connection. Slowly you felt how this tension sank down into your lower belly and straight between your legs. Your thighs were pressing together now to create some friction as your arousal grew quickly. You gasped and tore your head away to look at Jaskier. “You travel with Geralt of Rivia?”. You sounded more out of breath than you liked. But Jaskier didn’t seem to notice. “Yes. We share a wonderful journey and friendship” the bard stated proudly. You tilted your head and blinked, a picture being painted in your head. A filthy picture involving the bard, you and a witcher.  “Is that the only thing you two share?”, you asked quietly. The bard stared at you dumbfounded. You looked at him through your lashes. “You share a room here?”. “Yes, it’s cheaper. But why..? Oh, ah” Jaskier seemed to finally grasp what you were asking. “He would never interrupt, I’ll make sure of that.”, he said reassuringly. You caught his hand which was nervously fidgeting with a coin and used it to pull him even closer to you looking him deep in the eyes. “What if I want him to?” Jaskier stared back, swallowed dryly as he considered the idea.

It’s not like he had never thought of it. Sometimes he spied on Geralt when he was with a woman, listening to her moans, his ear pressed to the door of the room. Or trying to peak through the keyhole. He knew the effect Geralt had on women and was jealous of how easily they fell apart for him. Maybe having him there would make for a good learning experience. And if it was what he had to do to touch this beauty here… Slowly he leaned back on his chair, then cleared his throat. “Ehm, I ehm have not done.. I’ve never…” his look went to Geralt who’s eyes were fixed on you. “Your his friend, right? Surely you can convince him” You started drawing slow circles on his hand with your finger. You heard Jaskier breath in and out and felt how he shimmied in his seat, you weren’t sure if it was his nerves or signs of arousal. A look up at his face gave you an answer. His eyes sparkled with lust now. “So you are that kind of girl, hm? One man is not enough?” His voice had acquired a slight rasp and his gaze was now shamelessly fixed on your breasts. You grinned and shrugged “I just like to have fun. And you..” you grabbed his shirt to pull him close, pressed your lips on his surprised face and slightly bit at his lower lip before releasing him again “…look like you’d love some fun” you grinned. Jaskier’s face was flushed red and he looked breathless. Just how you liked your men, you thought with a wide smile. He stood up from his chair and leaned against you. You could feel his hard bulge through his pants pressing into your thigh. “Give me a moment”. You watched while the bard made his way to his witcher companion. He started whispering into his ear and Gerald’s gaze wandered back to you. His face did not show any indication of emotions, neither interest, nor lust nor rejection. You felt your cheeks redden under the scrutiny of the yellow eyes as your heart started to pump your blood faster. Geralt turned his head to Jaskier but you couldn’t see what kind of response he was giving his friend. You felt high or tipsy, even though you had barely drunk half a glass of beer.

Jaskier made his way through the crowd back to you. “Come with me, now” He took your hand and almost violently pulled you out of your seat and towards the stairs leading to the first floor. You looked back over your shoulders and saw Geralts eyes following you both with an unreadable expression on his face. You smiled at him while Jaskier dragged you up the stairs towards their room. From the corner of your eye you spotted the Witcher slowly getting up from his chair…

The door crashed shut behind Jaskier and he immediately started kissing you sloppily with his mouth wide open, tongue asking for entrance into your mouth. You pressed yourself into him, kissing back fiercely. His hard cock pushing and pulsating into your lower belly. His hands were nestling with your dress, trying to pull down the sleeves. He finally succeeded on one side, pulling out your breast. Your nipple hardened immediately in the cool air. He turned you around and held you from behind with both arms, breathing hot air into your neck. “S’that what you wanted little whore? Hm?” Instead of giving an answer you ground your hips back into his hard-on. You felt how slick started to pool between your legs. Jaskier pinched your nipple between two fingers and made you moan. That same moment the door sprang open. Geralt filled the whole doorframe. Both you and Jaskier froze for a second. You looked up at him “Here to join?” you finally asked when none of you dared to move. The two men looked at each other for a few seconds before Geralt stepped into the room without a word and closed the door behind him. One more step and he stood just centimetres away from you. You could feel heat radiating off his body in waves. “How does she feel?” he asked Jaskier in a low growling voice. You felt a jolt of arousal moving down your spine when he finally looked at you. Jaskier had managed to get your other tit out. “She feels great, I mean, look at them” he grinned at his friend from behind you and groped and squeezed your boobs. “Was so eager to get both of us on her. I bet she is wet for us already. Can you help me out here and get her clothes off?” “She is wet like river”, Geralt stated while putting his hand on your hips. “I can smell it.r” With a hard tug your dress slipped over your body, fell to your knees and you were left in your soaking undergarments. One of Jaskiers hands immediately started travelling over your belly downwards leaving a trail of fire on your skin. Geralt brought his hand up under your chin to tilt your head up and you sank into the stare of his yellow eyes. “I could even smell you down there in the inn. Such a needy little whore”. His other hand grabbed your now free breast just as Jaskier’s slipped under your waistband.  A long finger plunged into your dripping wet pussy while Geralt’s calloused fingers brushed over your nipple. You moaned loudly and your hips started bucking all by themselves. Sandwiched between the two men you felt so turned on you couldn’t think straight anymore. Trying to get as much relief as possible you ground down on Jaskier’s finger. It was not enough. You needed more. Geralt grinned, reading your pained facial expression exactly right. “Give her one more, this whore wants to be stretched out properly” he instructed. Jaskier immediately complied. But even two of his delicate fingers did not go deep enough. You panted and bucked your hips against his hand inside of you. “Hm, let me help” Geralt pushed the underpants down to your knees before cupping your cunt and Jaskier’s hand on it. His huge hot palms easily engulfed both. You let your head fall back onto Jaskier’s shoulder breathing hard. Both men were looking at you intently while Geralt slowly added his finger to Jaskier’s into your pussy. You let out a groan as you felt it going deep and brushing at just the right spots. You could feel an orgasm building up. “Ah fuck” you muttered as the men started to pump into you. Their movements were not very coordinated and slow, but the feeling of both of them pushing your walls while fondling your breasts and Jaskier licking your earlobe was too much. You clenched down on the men’s fingers as your orgasm hit you. Your kneeds became wobbly and you fell back into Jaskier who let you both collapse onto the bed. 

The sudden loss of the fingers inside you made you hiss. Jaskier turned your head around and kissed you deeply, taking your breath away. Meanwhile, Gerald took a chair from under the table by the window and put it down in front of the bed. You felt limp in the afterglow of your orgasm, sinking into the sheets as Jaskier wriggled out under you. You watched him take off his boots and shirt, then his pants. Turning your head to the right you directly looked into Geralt’s devouring eyes. He sat in his chair, wide-legged and still fully dressed. His eyes scanned every millimetre of your body while he palmed himself over his pants. Your eyes went wide, that bulge looked really big. The witcher once again read your expression perfectly. “Jaskier will open you up. So you can take me like the good whore you are” he growled, adjusting himself in his pants. The arousal that had subsided a bit now slammed back into you, both at the witcher’s sight as well as Jaskier climbing back onto the bed. He was now fully naked, his cock standing erect in front of his body, dripping from the tip. Your mouth watered at the sight. The bard buried his head in your neck to bite at your shoulder. This sent a shiver down your spine and you arched your back up to meet his body. His stiff member pressed into your abdomen. “Please”, you whisper “please”. “Please what little lady?” Jaskier licked your ear. “You want to feel me inside you?” “Yes, please”, you pleaded, your cunt clenching around nothing. Jaskier sat up, straddling your belly, looking down at your face. His member laid hot and heavy on your belly, slowly leaking sticky precum on your skin. He spat in his hand and started pumping himself while you squirmed below him, trying to get some friction where you needed it most. His cock was not the biggest you’ve ever seen, but long and slightly curved upwards. You wanted to touch it. Picking up some precum from your belly you replaced Jaskiers hand to stroke his cock. He threw his head back with a loud moan. He reached behind himself to find your clit. Rubbing small circles, just as you had done on his hand earlier, he had you panting and writhing beneath him in no time. His chest was heaving and your fingers felt like ice and fire when they scratched lightly over his abdomen. There was no way he could wait any longer. He lowered himself onto you, sucking on one of your nipples and lined himself up, slightly nudging at your entrance. You squinted your eyes shut at the feeling. You needed this, so badly. You locked eyes with the bard when he finally slid into you, slowly but steadily until he hit your cervix at the very back. You both let out a cry of ectasis as he bottomed out. You gripped his shoulders while he slid all the way out, just to slam back in again. From there he buried his face on your side and started to buck his hips into you fervently. Rocking up and down, you glanced over to Geralt. He was still sitting in his chair watching the scene intently. But his hand was in his pants now, slowly stroking his still covered dick. “I want to see it” you mouthed at him, unable to form actual words as white heat pooled in your abdomen every time Jaskier hit that spot deep inside you. You watched, fingernails digging into Jaskier’s arched back, as Geralt unbuttoned his pants, slowly and unhurriedly, and his member sprang free. It was big. Big and fat with an enlarged red tip and clearly visible pulsating veins. You almost blacked out from that sight alone while Jaskier’s rapid rhythm and grunts started to send you over the edge again. 

You yelped at the sudden empty feeling and your orgasm died down, your hole fluttering and clenching around nothing. You looked up at Jaskier now straddling you again with watery eyes. “Why?” you managed to stutter. “Wanna come into your mouth, whore” a sex-drunken Jaskier replied. “Slide down” He pushed you downwards towards the foot of the bed. Your calves dangling from the bed your face was now in front of Jaskier’s cock which had slipped between your breasts. With both hands you pushed your heavy breasts up to cover his member completely as he started to slide back and forth between them, lubed up by your juices. The angry red head, still slick from your juices, peaked out from your cleavage rhythmically and you stuck out your tongue to lick it. Jaskier gasped and pushed himself up even more. You opened your mouth to take him in. The angle was shallow but you blew your cheeks and sucked hard.  “Ah fuuck” Jaskier cried out quickening his pace once more. Another sound filling the room caught your attention and you saw Geralt slowly stroking himself from the corner of your eyes. You didn’t think you could get any more turned on. But the tension from the orgasm you were just denied still lingered in your belly. You desperately needed some relief. You tried pressing your thighs together but that took you nowhere, everything being way to slippery from Jaskier’s and your fluids. You couldn’t speak with Jaskiers dick slipping in and out of your mouth so you started wining instead. Jaskier was way too absorbed watching his cock slide between your tits and disappearing into your mouth as to hear or care about your misery. But Geralt did.

You realized he had gotten up from his chair when he pulled at your feet to drag your ass way down to the edge of the bed. Jaskiers cock was now directly above your face and he was piercing it down your throat. You tried to swallow as much of him as you could without gagging. His moans became quicker and louder and it was clear he would not last much longer. You opened your eyes you had closed in shock when Geralt had moved you. In-between Jaskier’s thrusts you could just see the other man, nacked from his hips downwards, standing at the foot of the bed looking down on you. You opened your legs wide to give him a better view. A deep thrust of Jaskier brought tears to your eyes and left you gasping for air, so you didn’t see Geralt kneeling down onto the floor. He took in the sweet scent of your pussy, now so strong it overpowered even the fire burning in the corner. He had smelled it from the moment you had entered the inn. This beautiful woman, flirting both with him and his friend with not much more than looks. A pretty whore who could not get enough dick. He would need to show you what it meant to be properly satisfied. As much as you seemed to enjoy Jaskier, he knew that only he could give you what you really needed. Looking up at your face covered by his friends ass who was pushing into you, his cock jolted. It was such a dirty scene.  The sounds you made left him feeling dizzy from arousal. And your scent, god… he turned his attention back to your cunt, bringing his nose closer to breath it all in before putting his hands on your thighs. You felt him licking a long stripe over your slick covered hole all the way up to your sensitive bud, which made you jerk and groan into Jaskiers dick. The man over you now sounded desperate and you brought up your hand to massage his balls. That finally undid him. After a last brutal push down your throat you felt him tense up and he emptied himself into your mouth. You caught the warm liquid on your tongue and tried to swallow as much as you could. You almost choked on the cum when Geralt sucked your clit between his teeth. Jaskier collapsed onto the mattress next to you. You looked over a small string of semen ran down over your cheedk from the corner of your mouth. “God fuck, this woman is the death of me” the bard moaned, breathing heavily. Geralt laughed into your pussy which made you gasp. His big hands dug into your flesh as all your muscles tensed up in anticipation of another orgasm. You heard Geralt’s lapping sound as he drank up your juices, which should have been embarrassing, but only drove you closer to the edge. The moment his big finger entered you it was over. With a cry you arched your back, eyes only seeing white, your hands fisting the sheets for dear live. The witcher worked you through this one with his mouth slow powerful strokes of his finger, pitying you after your last release was denied. 

And here you are now, covered in a fine layer of sweat and semen looking down at the white wolf as he licks his fingers clean of your juices. He takes his shirt off over his head and throws it into a corner. Fully naked his figure is even more imposing. And his dick is so. big. Fuck, how are you going to take all this? The slight feeling of fear creeps back into your still heaving chest, mixing with the lingering arousal. “On your knees whore” the witcher commands with a low growl. You are already spent, not sure how to move. Jaskier is still laying a few inches next to you, watching and again toying with his flaccid dick. Apparently, you took too long to react. Big strong hands grip your midsection and you are thrown onto your belly. “On your knees” the witcher growls again. You scoot back onto your knees, all your legs and arms shaking, both from exhaustion and excitement. Geralt grabs your hips on both sides and pulls you backwards to the edge of the bed. A burning slap echoes through the room and you cry out as a hot sting covers your buttcheek. “You do as I say or you get punished” Geralt snarls. You take a look over your shoulder. The witcher towers over you, it’s both frightening and turning you on. “Yes sir”, you stutter frantically trying to hold yourself up on all fours. Your task gets easier as Geralt’s grip on your hips gets even stronger. “Such a beautiful pussy” he grunts “asking to be filled up”. You’re panting in anticipation. “Please”, you whisper. “Please what, whore? Use your words!” His yellow eyes are burning with lust now. “Please, please fuck me, Geralt, I need it so bad” you cry. “Not had enough yet, hm” His huge tip is prodding at your entrance, the stretch already sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. You shake your head “not enough, sir.” “Hm, we better make sure to fill you up then” he says and finally starts pushing into you. You’re grateful he’s going slowly. Your walls burn as he steadily pushes in his thick girth splitting you in half. You hiss and he groans loudly. “Fuck, so tight. Such a perfect pussy. M’gonna ruin it for good” the witcher mutters, watching as his cock disappears into you. Mercifully he gives you a few seconds to adjust until you start circling your hips, grinding back into him. “Insatiable, that’s what you are, an insatiable whore” he says with a smirk on his face. He pushes in the last centimetre, his pelvis now flat against your ass. You can feel his heavy balls on the back if your thighs. “You want me to fuck you, whore?” All coherent thoughts have left your head as you sit there speared down on his dick. The only thing you manage is a quick nod and a pleading look over your shoulder. And that’s all that’s needed for Geralt to drop his last inhibitions. With a loud groan he snatches his hips backwards to push into you again full force. You cry out and land on your elbows while your hips are held up by Geralt’s strong arms. He thrusts into you again and again and you see stars. “That what you wanted, hm? More dick? Does this fill you up completely now?” His pace is relentless, your walls being literally attacked every time he buries his cock in you. Your mouth is agape, shouting loudly every time he enters you, violently hitting your cervix. “Yes” you cry, “So good. Please. Need. To cum.” Your vision blacks out. You feel how Jaskier fondles your hanging breasts while every thrust catapults you nearer to heaven. “Yes, come on my cock, let me see how good it feels to be finally satisfied” Geralt groans and with a loud, long shout of his name you come.

The witcher doesn’t stop. He fucks you right through your high, his eyes squinting from pleasure as you get even tighter clenching his dick, trying to milk his semen from him. But he’s not done with you yet. As you come to your senses you are once more picked up and thrown onto your back this time. Geralt is above you, his white hair falling into your face as you are gasping for air like dr owning person. His hand finds your clit and he starts rubbing it with his thumb. You almost jump at the feeling, being way too overstimulated. You try to writhe out below him but his huge body is keeping you in place. Your eyes fill with tears, you can’t take it, you shake your head. “So you finally had enough?” Geralt asks but he doesn’t wait for you to answer but pushes back into you hard, making you gasp. You feel sore, your body too tired to do anything else than lie there. You cling onto the sheets while your breasts are rocking up and down with his rhythm. You hear a moan and watch how Jaskier is stroking himself feverishly next to you. The veins on his arms are standing out, from how hard he is fisting his dick, his face contorted into a grimace of pleasure. He bucks his hips and cries out while a short spurt of cum shoots out of him. It’s all he has left after you milked him with your mouth. His dick feels like it’s burning, and he palms it lightly, coming down from his high, watching how Geralt thrusts into you at a punishing pace, making the bed move in jolts. Slowly he gets up to heat some water over the fire.

“Look at me”. Geralt yanks your head back forward to face him. He sits up and puts your legs on his shoulder. “I’m going to finish you. Until you can’t think anymore.” He pulls you towards him violently, his cock once again taking up all of you. Your eyes roll back into your head. Your mouth is wide open but can’t make any sounds anymore. The new angle is even deeper, something you didn’t think was possible, and you feel like your soul is being ripped from your body. You can see yourself from above being devoured by the witcher, your sounds reduced to a weak whimpering. Geralt leans forward, folding you in half. You feel so small under him, like his toy. You can feel his balls slapping against your ass, tensing up. He’s almost there. His rhythm gets more choppy while he’s chasing his release. Looking down on your body he sees the outline of his cock on your stomach every time he fills you up. “So. Fucking. Good. You take me so good, such a good whore” he mutters, his hand pressing down on your belly, felling himself pushing in and out of you. The pressure is way too much. With an animalistic cry that doesn’t seem to end and only faintly sounds like “Geralt” your body convulses. Every single muscle in you twitches, your walls strangling the witchers cock, asking it to finally release its seed. One, two thrusts more and Geralt finally starts to come apart, eyes closed, shooting white ropes into you, painting your walls. You gasp, hands clenched around his wrists as you feel him twitch inside you for what feels like an eternity. Then he collapses on top of you, taking your breath away. You try to move him, but your arms are void of any strength. His warm cum is slowly dripping out of you as his dick softens inside you. 

Geralt moves and you frantically gasp for air. He moves his hair out of his face, looks down on you and runs his thumb along your bottom lip. “Well done kid” he says warmly stroking your sweaty forehead. Jaskier strides over, halfway dressed already and hands him a warm wet cloth with which he starts to clean you up carefully. You feel a wide smile stuck onto your face while the warmth of the bed and Geralt’s hands on you lull you to sleep. You feel the two men tuck you in and arms that embrace you in a hug before you pass out completely.