#at least not like dandelion and regis? so these two are delightful

[horsegirlcahir]

i love writing dialogue. so much. especially when it involves geralt of rivia being called a dumbass

“Geralt. If you want to discuss this,” Dandelion says, voice suddenly and uncharacteristically serious, “talk to me like a human being. Talk to me like a friend. Because if you keep up this charade of begrudgingly asking for advice couched in general discussion and then acting as though you have no intention of taking it, I’m not going to waste my time or yours.” “Bloody hell,” Geralt mutters, feeling somewhat as though Dandelion has smacked him upside the head. “Alright.” And then, a little awkwardly and much more clearly, “I… apologize. I do want your — I don’t know. Your help, I suppose. Your advice.” “Good,” Dandelion says. “Your apology is accepted.” He straightens up a little, sitting primly.

+

“Geralt,” Regis says shortly. “Dandelion and Milva are too concerned with their own goings-on to address your lying directly to their faces. You are certainly able to lie to Cahir, because he is, due to the attachment I spoke of previously, unwilling to address it. I mean no offense to them when I say this: do not insult my intelligence.”

[jaskierswolf]

13 with Regis/geralt, Regis was just kicked out and he won't cry he's not supposed to cry vampires don't cry so he can't cry help he's crying

My last @thewitcherbog rarepair! 7/7. I have some Geraskier planned for next week so thank you for your patience, and I hope you've enjoyed the something different this week!

Pairing: Regis and Geralt (cameo by Dandelion cos it's me) Rating: T CW: Discussions of addiction

_ No one was perfect, that was something that Regis understood perfectly well. In fact, he was rather under the impression that the longer one lived, the more flawed one became. It was easy to pick up bad habits and harder to shake them, no matter how desperately he tried to be a better person. His addiction to blood had been bad, and he had no doubt that it was probably the darkest part of his life, but since then everything was an uphill struggle and most days he felt like he was slipping back down the slope.

But he never caved.

At least not to blood.

Addiction was a strange thing though, it never quite left you once it had poisoned your mind. Blood was just exchanged for other less harmful things, but moderation was not something that Regis was very good at. It was all or nothing. That went for his relationships as much as the more material items in life, leading to a whirlwind of romances that always left him broken-hearted- shattered. The hollow, empty ache in his chest left him feeling desolate and for days at a time he would struggle to hold his human form, fighting the beast within him that raged and hissed and spat, begging for revenge… for blood.

This time was no different.

He had been a pretty young thing with a sense for adventure and no sense for self-preservation. Most importantly, he had allowed Regis to completely dote on him, providing extravagant gifts to soothe any fear his lover may feel in his presence. It had been wonderful, utterly delightful, a whole week of blissful embraces and love sick hearts.

Until a young lady had turned the lad’s head and Regis was left alone once more, his heart mangled on the ground beneath his feet. So he shifted into his bat form and fled, the wind carrying him across the Continent, colder, higher, snow almost unbearable on his wings.

He flew without thinking, not really knowing his destination until the crumbling keep of Kaer Morhen came into view, tugged away in the heart of the mountains and hidden away from the monsters disguised as men. Circling the castle twice, he peered into the windows until he located his dear friend, lounging with Dandelion on the bed as the poet attempted to tune his lute.

“Bloody thing!” Dandelion hissed under his breath, not noticing the bat now perched on the windowsill. “The cold is messing with the strings. How on Melitele’s Continent am I supposed to compose great epics if the damned thing won’t stay in tune!”

“It’s warmer in the hot springs,” Geralt replied, not looking up from his book.

“Oh but then the humidity! Really, witcher, have you learnt nothing from our years of adventure.”

Regis watched his two friends fondly, the familiarity of their banter warming his heart, but regretfully he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle the poet’s pontificating so with a surge of magic, Dandelion fell back against the bed, his lute cradled to his chest. The Witcher’s eyes flashed in the dark and his nostrils flared.

“Herbs… Regis?” Geralt glanced around warily, and Regis could see the way his fingers itched for the swords that weren’t quite there.

With a heavy sigh, Regis landed on two feet in front of the witcher, not wanting to worry his friend any longer than necessary. “He’ll be okay, I promise. He’s just sleeping.”

“What’s wrong, Regis?” the witcher asked, clapping a hand on his shoulder and squeezing gently.

Geralt’s eyes were so earnest in their emotion, wide and filled with a heart wrenching concern that Regis felt something break inside of him. Tears welled up in his eyes and a lump caught in his throat, but he wouldn’t cry. He couldn’t cry. Vampires didn’t cry, and certainly not higher vampires. So he flung his arms around Geralt’s neck, biting his lip to muffle the sob that threatened to escape. Tentatively, Geralt hugged him back and Regis melted into his embrace. The witcher was his oldest friend, and their friendship was a love far deeper than any romance.

He was safe with Geralt; the irony of which didn’t escape him.

“Thank you, Geralt,” he mumbled into his friend’s hair.

“Anytime, Regis, anytime.”

_

Taglist: @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde, @comfyswitcherblanketfort, @fontegagrilledcheese, @dani-dandelino, @dapandapod @damnbert @officerjennie @feraljaskier @geralt-of-riviass @kueble @gilberik @llamasdumpsterfire @wherethewordsare @trickstermoose67 @alllthequeenshorses @skai6

[riviae]

ppl i think regis would get along w/ really well despite never officially meeting them (not counting yen or ciri bc obviously regis would get along w/ them): 

note: under read more due to length

eskel: 

they’re both level-headed & are very familiar with the feeling of being the only sane person in a room. now when geralt or lambert say something incredibly absurd, they just give each other the look™ 

because of how similar eskel & geralt are, regis immediately feels at ease around the witcher. they were different, of course, but many of the fundamental principles which endeared regis to geralt could also be found in eskel. their friendship comes across as quite natural despite having not known each other for long. 

regis is delighted to hear about what geralt was like as a child. eskel tells a bunch of stories, reminiscing upon their childhood & all the trouble the two wolf-school witchers got into. pretty good times all around. 

they also both like animals so eskel introduces regis to his goat, lil’ bleater, while regis introduces eskel to his... ominous conspiracy of ravens. eskel’s admiration of regis increases tenfold after that. 

when eskel returns to the path at the start of spring, he fondly notices that he has three ravens trailing him every now & then. he starts feeding them seeds & grain when he stops in villages for supplies/lodging. the ravens return the favor w/ gifts, starting w/ giving him dead mice or shiny pieces of metal & ending w/ runestones & other witcher-related supplies (likely at regis’s behest).

they also exchange letters every now & then thru the ravens, which eskel enjoys more than he’d admit out loud. unlike his usual clipped speech & monotone, eskel is much more expressive & open in his writings, to regis’s pleased surprise. there are a few times where eskel’s letters are even longer than regis’s--a feat, truly. 

one full moon, the wolf school witchers (eskel, lambert, and geralt) get so incredibly intoxicated on mandrake hooch that they bet regis that they’d be able to land at least one hit on him as a trio... in regis’s giant murder bat form. humoring the three men, regis complies and transforms in the courtyard. lambert immediately passes out at the sight of regis’s teeth. geralt suddenly recalls a vivid memory of regis’s attack on stygga castle & in the case of self-preservation, forfeits entirely by dropping his sword. he then throws up in a nearby bush & joins lambert on the ground. eskel drops his sword but not out of fear--instead, his animal-loving nature comes out full-force and he ends up drunkenly patting regis’s head and scratching his chin. regis gives a happy churr of approval in response.

when vesemir wakes up early the next morning, completely unaware of the previous night’s events, he finds it odd that the keep is so quiet, but goes on w/ his routine. when he goes to the courtyard to check on the horses, he instead finds the 3 witchers asleep--with regis, /still/ in his bat form, acting like a fluffy pillow for the 3 men, one wing wrapped protectively over them as they slept. upon closer inspection, he sees that lil’ bleater is wrapped up in regis’s other wing, sleeping soundly. 

vesemir: 

rocky start at first bc uhhh why is there a higher vampire in our keep, geralt? but after actually getting to know regis, vesemir becomes quite fond of the vampire. being a fairly old witcher, he enjoys being able to chat w/ regis about things that were popular in their youth. at one point vesemir realizes that regis was actually the same vampire he’d heard of back when he was first starting out on the path--that vesemir had even seen contracts for the vampire’s head but he ignored them bc while he was young, he wasn’t idiotic enough to actually go after a higher vampire (lol @ geralt). they even share a laugh about it. 

old slang words!! they both get to use ‘em in colloquial speech w/ each other & laugh at their jokes while the other witchers just roll their eyes. 

regis helps update the keep’s knowledge on both higher & lower vampires, penning his own bestiary of sorts on his species, but focusing on techniques & concoctions that could keep witchers safe from harm. 

regis’s curiosity regarding the trial of grasses becomes apparent & vesemir gives the vampire whatever books still remain on the process. regis is delighted to see that witchers did have vampire genes in them (from bruxae tongue, specifically). 

bonus points for vesemir trying to “sweep up” all the vampire-hunting paraphernalia the keep has, attempting to hide the (lower) vampire skulls, fangs, tongue, claws, etc., that  they had displayed like trophies. regis isn’t all that offended to begin with (his inner scientist was actually intrigued by the vampire parts that the witchers kept preserved), but he does break into a fit of laughter when he stumbles upon vesemir trying to shove an entire stock of black blood potions into a cabinet & ends up dropping all of them at hearing regis approach--the room smells horrid to regis for weeks after tho. 

“did you... did you really think geralt never drank black blood in front of me? he was contracted to hunt down a higher vampire.” “...i just didn’t want you to think i was worried about you attacking us.” “hmm, the more i learn about witchers, the more i wonder how your reputation as heartless monster killers has persisted over the centuries.” 

priscilla: 

it’s an immediate friendship that blossoms between them. dandelion feels a bit jealous that regis feels comfortable to laugh & joke about his nature in front of priscilla when it took regis months to even reveal he was a vampire to the hansa in general. regis reminds him that the first time he so much as smiled and showed his teeth, he had let out a scream and nearly fainted. 

regis does his barber-surgeon magic™ and provides priscilla w/ a medicinal concoction to add to her hot tea every morning. it helps incredibly well and lets her speak/sing for longer. similarly, regis also gets a salve for priscilla to put on her scars that help them heal a bit more. eventually, she no longer wears a scarf around her neck and regis is thrilled at the sight. 

regis is a big fan of priscilla’s singing. as he himself is not the greatest singer, he finds that he loves listening to her singing as he journals/reads/etc. one time he even dozed off, having been so relaxed, that when he wakes, he finds that priscilla had draped a blanket over him & even managed to prop a pillow behind his head w/o waking him. 

priscilla confides in regis when she first thinks that she may be pregnant. given his abilities, he was able to smell the change in her hormones & was able to give her the good news. he goes into barber-surgeon mode™ rt after tho & gives priscilla (and dandelion, once he gets over the shock that he’s becoming a father) a bunch of notes on what sort of diet, exercise, etc., she should do while pregnant. dandelion goes to oxenfurt at regis’s behest to ‘borrow’ more accurate anatomy textbooks and they both pour over the info., wanting to make sure that if he was for some reason predisposed when priscilla was giving birth, dandelion could at least handle it/know what to expect. 

shani: 

they’re both practicing physicians & it’s a shame cdpr didn’t let them meet (even if they were in diff dlcs).

both get to teach each other different medical-related things!! 

regis is more self-taught (but i do headcanon that he learned a lot of his abilities as a barber-surgeon while in the Humanist’s company) & relies on a mix of experience, textbooks (some even written by other higher vampires), and general word-of-mouth (i.e., herbal remedies he’s learned from different villages along his travels) in his practice, tho his specialty is surgery... and haircuts lol 

shani actually attended medical school at oxenfurt academy so her knowledge is much more /by the books/ so to speak. bc of this, she’s able to help regis ‘catch up’ on human anatomy terms that aren’t as commonly used by higher vampires (which is where regis got most of his knowledge). also, what shani lacks in experience she makes up tenfold in skill and problem-solving. for instance, she’s able to show regis a sewing technique to close up a wound that she created to save thread since she worked on battlefields for the most part

they both enjoy academia and learning in general, so besides medicine, they also chat about things ranging from politics to philosophy. shani eventually becomes the dean of medicine at oxenfurt in the series, so it’d be nice to imagine that this decision was influenced by regis, who noted that she would make an excellent professor/researcher 

regis normally gave haircuts to men, but got the chance to give shani a haircut when she lamented that her bangs were falling into her eyes too often during surgeries and she didn’t want to wear a headband (they shared a laugh thinking about geralt and the headband he used to wear).

anyway, they remain great friends and shani even manages to rope regis into giving a few guest lectures at oxenfurt after she becomes dean. while he frets a little about the possibility of the students, all curious and bright, realizing he isn’t human, the lectures end up being a big hit. and regis can’t deny that he enjoys the attention... it’s not everyday that he gets to ramble about medicine & certain surgical procedures and have a full lecture hall of students eagerly jotting down his words. 

[jaskierswolf]

The Grass is Greener Pt.1/3

Summary: Jaskier's mother is coming to stay and his garden is an absolute mess and his lawn mower has seen better days... luckily for him his ridiculously hot neighbour is there to lend a hand. 

Geraskier

CW: Shitty parents being shitty.

(Prompted by @alwenarin and based on this post by @infinite-mirrors)

________

Jaskier stared forlornly out at his garden. His mother was due to come over on her yearly visit and the next few days of his life were going to be hell. His mother was the sort to blast into his life like a fucking tornado, pull apart everything that he had built for himself and leave him broken, shattered into a thousand shards of glass. He wasn’t even sure why he still let her in, probably some childhood trauma that meant he was desperate to please her, to make her proud, but what did he know? He wasn’t a therapist, much to her displeasure. Anything would have been better in her eyes than a musician and occasional bartender.

He didn’t make much money. His band hadn’t taken off yet and only really had a small but dedicated following online that donated pocket money in exchange for small previews of new tracks or little poems that could be given to lovers or in greetings cards. Most of his rent was paid for in the tips he made at the bar. He was lucky to have the house at all really. He shared it with his housemates: Priscilla, his bandmate and ex, Essi, her younger sister, Valdo Marx, his former schoolmate, professional rival and absolutely twat face who lurked in his attic room and never really came out to talk to them, and last but not least, Regis, a kind scholarly type who had been living in the house before the other rooms had become available and most importantly made excellent homemade gin.

Said housemates had agreed to fuck off for the weekend so he could pretend that the house was his in a last ditched attempt win over his mother.

Of course, none of them had helped to tidy up before leaving and he’d spent the last twenty-four hours deep cleaning the house, and bolting the door to Regis’s bathroom shut. The gin in the bathtub wasn’t ready to bottle yet and he wasn’t exactly going to drain the tub of his elixir. He’d moved the furniture in his friend’s rooms around enough to make it look like they weren’t extra bedrooms, more… rooms that just happened to have beds in case he had company. Priscilla’s room now resembled a music room, Essi’s room had been turned into a makeshift study, Valdo’s he’d left a mess and claimed it was just an attic, and Regis’s room was sort of a library if you squinted hard enough.

That just left the garden.

“Bollocks!” He moaned.

None of them really cared much about the garden, apart from the box down the end which housed Regis’s herb garden for cooking. The rest of the garden a mess. The grass was practically a wild meadow filled with weeds. He quite liked it. He enjoyed looking at the dandelions, daisies and buttercups but his mother would have a fit.

Where was he even going to start?

Lawnmower. They must have one. He stumbled through his back door onto the patio and made his way to the shed that honestly barely lived up to its name. It was falling apart and leaked horrendously, but luckily inside was one rusty looking lawnmower.

“Bingo!” He grinned and pulled the mower out of the shed. It was heavier than it looked but luckily Jaskier was also stronger than he looked. Even so he wasn’t entirely how he was going to start the damn thing.

Perhaps Geralt would know…

Fuck.

Geralt.

Geralt had just adopted a newborn baby. Her name was Ciri. Most of the time Geralt just called her ‘Cub’ which Jaskier found to be incredibly endearing, a fact that had nothing to do with his teensy little crush on the mechanic.

He pulled up Geralt’s number in his phone. He’d been delighted when Geralt had given him his number, yes maybe it was because Jaskier kept turning up at Geralt’s doorstep after shifts at work because he’d forgotten his keys and none of his bastard housemates were answering the door and Geralt just happened to have a spare key, but the main thing is he had Geralt’s number.

After that they’d conversed a few times over text. Mostly if one of them was running to the shops and wanted to know if the other needed anything. Occasionally Geralt would text to ask Jaskier if he could watch Ciri for a short while if Geralt needed to leave the house. Once Geralt had even given him a lift to work because Jaskier’s bike had gotten a flat tire and he didn’t have enough time to walk all the way to the bar. So they weren’t exactly strangers but he wouldn’t really call them friends.

In fact Geralt was still listed as Hot Neighbour in his phone. He meant to change it, it was just that you couldn’t argue with the truth. Geralt was his hot neighbour.

 J —Hey Geralt! Is it ok if I mow my lawn? I don’t want to wake Ciri if she’s asleep. :)

He stared at his phone intently until about an eternity later, Geralt replied.

 G — The child must not be an obstacle.

Jaskier snorted as he read the response. He read it aloud a couple of times trying to mimic Geralt’s rough husky voice and managed to give himself the giggles.

His phone buzzed again.

 G — I can hear you laughing at me.

“Oh shit!” He almost dropped his phone and his cheeks felt like they were on fire. “Sorry Geralt!” He called into the air.

 G— Hmm.

Jaskier scoffed. Who text back “Hmm”? And why did Jaskier still find that so attractive?

But never mind that! He had the green light. Operation Finally Make His Mother Proud, or FMHMP for short, and yes you could absolutely say that if you tried hard enough, was go! He was going to mow the lawn like a proper adult!

He tried for about six years to turn the mower on but without any success. He kicked the lawnmower in frustration and the whole damned thing fell apart.

“Fuck it!” He yelled as he hopped about on his good foot that hadn’t been battered by lawnmower.

He sulked back into the house and flopped down dramatically on the sofa. It was over. His mother was going to hate him and he would die as a disgrace to the Pankratz name and the Lettenhove estate.

He was half way through his pity party when the doorbell rang. He grabbed his phone to check the time. Strange, his mother wasn’t due for another three hours.

“What the fuck?” He mused and padded over to the door. To his surprise Geralt was standing on his doorstep with Ciri tucked safely into a baby sling on his chest and behind him was a shiny lawnmower. “Ah. Geralt!” He grinned.

Geralt turned to the lawnmower and back to him. “Thought you might need some help.”

Jaskier blushed. “Right. Yes. Of course. Come on in!” He stood back to let Geralt through. “Oh, actually do you want to come round the side gate? The lawnmower probably shouldn’t come through the house. I’ve just cleaned up.”

Geralt grunted but followed Jaskier around the side of the house and into the back garden.

“What the fuck, Jaskier?” He grumbled when he saw the state of the lawn. “I thought you said you were mowing the lawn, not trying to find it!”

“Ah, yes, well. That is an excellent point.” Jaskier stammered, pulling at the hem of his shirt nervously. “You see my mother is visiting.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow. “Your mother, how old are you? Twelve?”

Jaskier gaped at his neighbour. “Geralt!” He whined. “I’m twenty-nine! Mother is just a cow.”

“Hmm. Fine. Let’s do this.” Geralt pulled Ciri gently out of her sling and passed her to Jaskier. “Hold her. I need to grab her stuff. This will take longer than I thought.”

“Oh hang on!” Jaskier called after Geralt but it was too late and Ciri began to cry. “Umm. There there.” He cooed and rocked her gently. “Shall I sing you a lullaby, cub?”

She didn’t answer, babies rarely did, so he decided a lullaby would be fine and began to sing in hushed tones as he rocked her in his arms. Geralt wasn’t long but he seemed surprise to come back to Jaskier rocking his daughter to sleep in his arms.

“Hmm. She likes you.” Geralt noted.

He was carrying Ciri’s car seat and a bag was slung over his shoulder. In his other hand was a large electric contraption with some nasty blades at the end. He dumped the scary looking monster and placed the travel cot on the patio table. Once Ciri was safely asleep they got to work.

Or more accurately, Geralt got to work. Jaskier mostly just watched and made sure Geralt had all the refreshments he needed. He also kept the conversation going by listing all the grievances his mother had with him from her last visit, Geralt hummed and grunted but didn’t offer much in return but it didn’t matter. Jaskier was more than capable of holding an entire conversation by himself.

“And then she starts wittering on about how my sister has a perfect husband and a darling little angel.” Jaskier moaned. “So of course then it’s ‘Julian why don’t you have a wife?’”

“Julian?” Geralt asked.

Jaskier glared at his neighbour. “Don’t ever call me that, I beg of you.”

Geralt shrugged. “I won’t. Just asking.”

“And I tell her, for the hundredth time, to say partner or spouse or lover or you know… not gender specific because she knows! Geralt! She knows. I don’t know how many times I have to tell her.” Jaskier sighed. “Oh, umm I’m bisexual just to give you some context there.”

Geralt nodded. “Right.”

“So of course she starts complaining that I always have to make everything gay, and I’m like… ‘Mother, I am gay!’” Jaskier announced with wide arms.

Geralt looked up at him, pausing halfway down the lawn that was now starting to resemble a lawn. “So why not tell her you’re seeing someone?” He asked. “Solve both problems if you say it’s a guy.”

Jaskier put his hands on his hips and tilted his head. “Yeah.” He scoffed. “Until she asks to meet him.”

Geralt shrugged. “I could do it.”

Jaskier’s heart jumped in his chest. “You what? Geralt!”

“My ex has been bothering me about finding someone.” He grumbled. “Two birds, One stone.”

Jaskier narrowed his eyes at his insanely hot neighbour who was now apparently suggesting they… fake date??

“What exactly are you suggesting here?” Jaskier asked slowly. “You pretend to be my boyfriend for my mother’s visit and we what? Send a few photos to your ex to prove you’re moving on?”

Geralt smirked. “As long as you promise not to fall in love with me.”

Jaskier’s jaw dropped.

Well fuck. _______

Next