#how many will it take before geralt realizes something is up? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shaotie · 1 month ago

Text

Where You Belong - Outline

**WARNING** for lots and lots of **SPOILERS** below

I'm the kind of person who likes to read the entire plot of a movie on wiki before deciding if I'll watch it, so for anyone else out there who likes spoilers here's the entire outline for my Where You Belong au 😃🐢💚

Arch 1: Can Nobody Hear Me? - Chapters 1-23

The story begins a few years post krang invasion, when the turtles are adults. After Leo saves the life of a deer yokai the villain (an all-black doberman pincer yokai named Excalibur along with his mystical pet yokai, an oversized gecko named Geralt) is enraged at his meddling and hits him with a mystic attack, depositing mystic energy inside Leo's head. As a result, he is left is unable to use his ninpo, wield any weapons, and stripped of his ability to communicate - both verbally and non-verbally - so he can't tell anyone about the wicked yokai or what he did.

A series of unfortunate events results in Leo being taken by the dog yokai, mystically afflicted so he cannot escape or fight back, branded as a slave, put to hard work, severely abused by the temperamental dog with a quick temper, and kept locked away in a location deep underground inside a pocket of mystical rocks that blocks the signal from the subcutaneous tracker Donnie placed on him years prior.

The harsh conditions he is forced to live eventually results in the rise of dissociative identity disorder (split personality disorder) and comes close to taking his life. Instead of tending to his injuries, Excalibur dumps him in a New York alley with the intent of purchasing another slave, where Donnie's tracker picks up on him and his family brings him home and does their best to help him heal from his many injuries - physical, mental, and emotional.

Although the mystic energy deposited inside his head was removed when he was left for dead, Leo is still unable to talk because of something else that mystical attack did to him, so his family learns sign language.

Meanwhile the alternate persona in Leo's mind (from the dissociative identity disorder) becomes an sentient life force connected to Leo's mystic powers (named May) who is evil because she was born as a result of the mystic energy Geralt deposited inside Leo's head and Excalibur's shocking abuses that tramatized Leo's mind, and she tries to take control of him so she can kill his family.

Arch 2: Twists and Turns - Chapters 21-40

A dramatic turn of events involving Excalibur and Geralt results in May taking control, but once disconnected from the inner broken recesses of Leo's mind she becomes her own person separated from the horrors that gave birth to her, and no longer wishes to harm anyone - instead she wants to enjoy the simple things in life like feeling the rain on her skin and gazing at the stars, but worries that she's taking away from Leo's quality of life because of how they have to share a body and feels she was a mistake and shouldn't exist at all.

Meanwhile Leo's family know about the dangers and when they realize she has taken control they do a mind meld to get her out of his head, refusing to listen to Leo's arguments that she changed and is good now - thinking he only believes this because he is under her evil influence.

After removing her mystic life force, May (who left willingly for Leo's sake) dies and Leo is left bereaved without the extra person he had grown accustomed to talking to him in his head, and he mourns her loss because of how she had been a constant in his life and had changed to become a better person (like Draxum, who is part of their family now).

Meanwhile, to cover the many scars on his face and body from Excalibur's attacks Leo asks Mikey to make him a black hood and a new mask - one that symbolizes his connection to his family and May (whose mystic life force was a bright pink).

When he is well enough, Leo insists on resuming his hero work, but does so with Donnie in the Hidden City, where he fulfills a promise he made to May before she died by doing good with his life in helping to free others who have been forced into the life of harsh slavery (which is legal in yokai society because the powerfully influential Big Mama pushed for it to have slave fighters for her Battle Nexus).

Because Excalibur reported him as a runaway slave, one of their Hidden City missions when Leo is by himself he is discovered by the police, tranquilized, arrested, and has his subcutaneous tracker and mystic powers removed by them.

Instead of being returned to that disgusting dog, Big Mama shows interest in the ninja hero and purchases him as another slave fighter for her Battle Nexus - having a shock device attached to the back of his neck (called a neuro-tech disruptor or NTD) as 'encouragement' for him to do as he is told and giving him the stage name Red Jitsu (while tricking his family into believeing the fighter 'Red Jitsu' is really a zebra yokai and not their missing son/brother).

Leo refuses to take the life of another but agrees to fight when he discovers killing in the Battle Nexus was made illegal by the Council of Heads. Now, when the killing blow was to be made, a mystical system automatically portals the loser out of the ring.

In the underground slave quarters, Leo befriends a fellow slave rabbit yokai named Usagi, who understands sign language (including his three-fingered adaptation), but is devestated when - a few months later - a fight is rigged and he is killed in the Nexus ring.

After that Leo become so despondent he gives up on life, thinking that his family weren't looking for him in the first place but not knowing they had been searching for him everywhere. On the night of a one-time-only Council-of-Heads-approved revenge match to the death against the yokai who killed Usagi, Leo gives up - deciding it would be better to die as an honorable hero than take the life of another and feeling he no longer has a reason to live - but his highly anticipated fight catches the attention of his family, who realize 'Red Jitsu' is really Leo and come to rescue him.

Leo can't simply escape with them however, because the NTD is programmed to repeatedly shock him if he tries (until he either returns or is killed by it), so their rescue plan ends up being foiled and he is sent away to a genius alligator by the name of Kaiman. But because he knows now that his family is out there searching for him, unbeknownst to Big Mama Leo has a renewed appreciation for life.

Arch 3: A Useful Warrior - Chapters 41-75

Since a 'broken' slave is not profitable in the ring Big Mama sends Leo to a business associate of hers named Kaiman to 'break him Big Mama style,' but the alligator discovers he is different from all the other slaves she sent his way because of retaining his Hamato honor. So he deviously keeps him for himself, separated from his family - not only on a different planet but in a different dimension - and forces compliance through such means as shocks, punishing hallucinations, and mind control (all from the NTD that is his creation), as well as manipulation and conditioning.

While there, Leo befriends an artificial life form named Cammie, who looks like a gray fox yokai and - despite being created by Kaiman - is a sentient life form who has free will and her own distinct personality, and is proved to be a living person (think Data from 'Star Trek: TNG' only female, a tangible holigram, looks like a cute fox yokai, and possesses emotions from the moment she was created).

Via a teleportation device of his own creation, Kaiman takes his ninja warrior on many dangerous outings to different planets and dimensions, resulting in them crossing paths with the 2012 turtles where he passes off the mute Leo as an associate by the name of Othello Von Ryan. But Leo manages to get alone time when he goes to the bathroom and secretly uses 2012 Donnie's security camera, revealing who he really is (via sign language) and that Kaiman is his captor but he can't escape because of the NTD attached to him. This results in an (unsuccessful) adventure where the 2012 turtles board Fugitoid's ship (2012 iteration) to try and save Leo.

When Big Mama discovers Kaiman tricked him and kept her useful warrior for himself she tries to get Leo back, but bumping heads with such an intelligent villain results in her death. Since the biggest avocate of slavery is now dead there is an uprising among yokai who are against slavery in the Hidden City, resulting in the Battle Nexus being destroyed and slavery abolished.

Although believing other life forms to be beneath his species and he harshly mistreats his warrior slave to keep him in his place, Kaiman views himself as an honorable person and releases Leo when he feels his services are no longer required.

Leo goes home but behaves differently as a result of the conditioning from Kaiman - who skillfully used his genius to force compliance. Eventually some problems on his home planet result in Kaiman making Leo assist him again, but he upholds his distorted sense of honor by not forcing him back into slavery providing he separates himself from his family and doesn't tell anyone about their arrangement. Leo feels he doesn't have a choice but to comply - partly because of his fear Kaiman will kill his family if he refuses and partly because of how he has been conditioned to obey Kaiman and doing so gives his life some sort of warped sense of direction and purpose (similiar to stockholm syndrome but not quite as severe).

Leo moves out of the lair to protect his family and in between doing Kaiman's bidding he starts fighting for a living under his Battle Nexus alias Red Jitsu in a place called the Cavern Games (communicating with those who don't understand sign language via a program in his wrist com Donnie made for him). But he can't keep his arrangement with Kaiman secret for long before Donnie finds out about it and his family fight to save him - ultimately resulting in the death of Kaiman and leaving Leo feeling like he is lost with no direction without Kaiman there to tell him what to do.

Arch 4: A Time for Healing - Chapters 76-89

During his time being forced to work for Kaiman Leo professed his love for Cammie, who returns the gesture and after Kaiman's death her program is downloaded into Donnie's systems (with backups upon backups as a precaution) so she can live with him and his family in their New York sewer lair.

Meanwhile Leo discovers that back when May was taken out of his mind Draxum found reminents of invisible mystic energy leftover from her death so he put that energy into a vat of mutagen to find out what would happen, resulting in May returning in the form of an inquisitive cute kitten yokai (around 5 years old) and Leo takes on a fatherly role in her life. But Karai comes to him in a dream and tells him to make the most of their time together because it won't last long.

Coming to the wrong conclusion that May was destined to die, Leo becomes overly protective of her. But one day as their family are all relaxing on a beach, an amphiptera (snake-like alien with arms, fiery wings, and fire powers) - who had been seeking revenge after Kaiman and his ninja slave previously attacked her people - finally finds Leo after searching through outer space for him, resulting in a fight that ends in his death.

Leo is welcomed with open arms in the mystic realm by Karai, Usagi, and his ancestors, but despite having a place there and feeling a sense of inner peace (which he is told is a gift for earning a place in the mystic realm) he still misses his family on earth and longs to be with them.

His desire becomes reality when Karai discovers Raph and Donnie are helping Mikey open a portal to the mystic realm to get Leo back after Draxum helped them mystically heal the mortal wounds on his deceased body. Leo chooses to return with them and Karai sends him home with a gift, so that when he wakes up in the med bay he is able to talk again and the story ends with a happy reunion between him and his family.

🔹🔹🔹

🔹Where You Belong Masterpost

🔹My Main Masterpost

14 notes · View notes

wolves-and-dragons · 3 months ago

Text

A Lark Among the Wolves and Dragons: Chapter 42

Main Masterlist

Chapter 41

Synopsis: After being rescued from the elven ruins, Aemma learns everything she can from her uncle Jaskier concerning her long lost mother. Through Jaskier's eyes, Aemma also discovers extra pieces of the Lady of Larks' past.

CW: strong language, violence, mentions of Scoia'tel warfare, mentions of the Lady Lark's trauma (Minors DNI).

"Geralt?" Jaskier looks over to see his friend standing by, covered in blood as a result from the fighting that took place earlier.

Upon seeing the man, knowing exactly who he was after seeing him in the throne room years ago, Criston was quick to draw his sword and get in front of Aemma and Aemond. Ivan did the same out of sheer reflex. Swords pointed at the witcher as he attempted to approach. Geralt stood back, confused.

"Whoa, whoa, what's going on?" Jaskier gets in front of the two knights. "What the fuck is this?" Roche runs to the side. "Stay back!" Criston warns Geralt. "Ser Criston!" Aemma tries to call out. "You didn't think I'd forget the likes of you, did you now...White Wolf?"

Upon hearing those words, Aemond drew his own sword, ready to slay the witcher himself for Aemma's sake.

"Aemond, stop! Criston, Ivan! Stop this!" Aemma runs in front of the trio next to Jaskier. "Princess, stand aside," Criston insists, "this man is dangerous." "I know," Aemma nods, "he is. But he is no danger to us, Ser. Sheathe your sword."

"White Wolf?" Ivan realized, turning to Criston, "Ser, I know exactly who this man is. This is Geralt of Rivia. The witcher." Criston gave Ivan a somewhat incredulous look, "how do you know him?" "He is well known throughout the Continent, everyone knows the white haired witcher. He saved my village once from a pack of monsters many years ago. Before I was born that is, but the elders would tell this tale many a time when I was a child."

"Sir Criston, put your blade away," Roche orders, "the witcher is under my protection. Whatever grievance you have with him must be put aside." "Is this not the same man who is wanted for regicide?" Criston scoffs, "the same man who assassinated your king?" "It was a different man, a different witcher," Aemma speaks up, realizing what Criston was implying, "Geralt never slayed any kings. If anything he tried to prevent it, tried to stop the same man from taking me to the Scoia'tel, but it was too late."

"There, see? A trustworthy eyewitness here to affirm Geralt's innocence," Jaskier exasperates.

"Didn't you want this man dead before, Aemma?" Aemond brings up, "for taking your mother away? You had plans, if I recall. To make him confess his crime before stabbing him in the heart and feeding his body to your dragon."

Jaskier looked to Aemma, shocked, "Aemma? What-" "That was my desire once before," Aemma admits, "but new information has come to light, information that...greatly contradicts what was told to me as a child. I...I don't know what to think," she turns to face the witcher, "I don't know what to think of this man. But I don't wish that anymore. Now sheathe your swords," she turns to Ivan and Criston, to which Ivan quickly obeys, though Criston waited, "...by order of your princess," Aemma narrows her gaze, and Criston reluctantly does as he was commanded.

Sensing her determination, Aemond also put his own sword away; it was unwise, after all, to anger Aemma any further then she was already was with him.

Seeing he wasn't in any immediate danger, Geralt turns to Aemma, taking out a sword. Criston was about to draw his own again, as was Aemond, but Geralt turned it over, presenting Aemma the hilt, "I believe this is yours," he tells her. Attached to the hilt was also the silver medallion Vesemir had made for her.

Eyes wide in surprise, Aemma took both items, clutching them close, "I didn't think I would see these things again. I thought the Scoia'tel would've destroyed them or sold them or something along those lines. How did you get these back?"

"One of the Scoia'tel was using them during the fight," Geralt explains, "I took it back." Aemma looked to Geralt, surprised he would've done something like that for her. She nods in understanding, "thank you."

Aemond tilted his head a little at this interaction trying to get a better understanding of this man. He didn't know much about witchers, specifically this witcher, save for what little he heard from Aemma as a child, and none of it had been good. He did hear stories of Geralt's kind from Continentals who came to visit back in King's Landing, when he and Aemma snuck to the docks that one night. Mutant freaks. Unholy, demonic spawn stripped of their emotions like the monsters they slay for coin. Another thing Aemond had also picked up concerning witchers was their unrestrained proclivities towards women, the likes which could make Aegon look like a prudish saint in comparison.

Geralt, however, didn't strike him as such an individual as the witcher stood there in his stoic demeanor. He did, after all, selflessly return Aemma's possessions, surely someone deprived of their emotions would not have acted in this way.

The white hair witcher was definitely something of an enigma.

The contemplation was rudely interrupted when a certain individual started yelling various curses both in Elven and the Common Tongue.

The Woodland Fox himself, who had been captured during the battle, was struggling against his bonds as two of the Blue Stripes kept him restraint.

"Is that the one?" Aemond whispers to Aemma, to which Aemma nods in response. "Iorveth the Scoia'tel commander, the one who wanted justice," Aemma confirms. "He is quite a fighter I will give him that," Criston speaks up, "these Scoia'tel don't play fair, that much is certain."

"What exactly happened?" Aemma inquires.

Criston gave the prince and princess a summarized version of the fight.

--------------------

After the two knights along with the Blue Stripes snuck out of Flotsam, while Jaskier was giving his distraction, the group ran into the forest. Roche apparently had an informant somewhere in the woods that gave him the bandit's whereabouts, though neither Criston nor Ivan knew it had been the witcher. Upon finding the Scoia'tel, the Blue Stripes soldiers did not hesitate to ambush the bandits and a fight ensued.

Unknown to Criston or the any of the Blue Stripes, Geralt had been in the middle of enacting his own plan with Iorveth. With the information from the captured second in command Kieran, knowing that the witcher Letho had double crossed the Scoia'tel, Geralt had Zoltan take him into the woods to meet with the Scoia'tel Commander to deliver him this grim news. Naturally, Iorveth did not believe the white hair witcher's claim, and so had plot a ruse to pretend Geralt had captured Iorveth so as to deliver him to Letho at the old ruins. The moment Letho confirmed for himself that he had betrayed the elves, Iorveth did not hesitate to have his men appear from the trees with the intention to execute Letho.

Before that could happen, however, Roche and the Blue Stripes came onto the scene. A fight broke out as a result. At least Geralt had been kind enough to give Iorveth his sword so as to give the elf a sporting chance against his enemies. Geralt meanwhile had gone after Letho, but not before swiping Aemma's sword and medallion away from one of the elves.

Iorveth struck down every Blue Stripe he could get his hands on until he finally came up against Roche himself, a moment Iorveth has been waiting years for. The two clashed swords, seemingly at a stalemate at first, until Iorveth got the upper hand and disarmed Roche. Before Iorveth had a chance to deliver the final blow, Criston stepped in and parried the elf's sword. The two engaged in a one-on-one fight. This felt familiar to Criston in certain ways; it brought the man back to days past, from before joining the Kingsguard, before coming to King's Landing, when Criston had been sent to fight off the Dornish incursions. Like the Dornish soldiers, the Scoia'tel had a habit of engaging in asymmetrical warfare, albeit in a different landscape. There was also something else, in the way the elven commander fought; Iorveth was fast, light on his feet, not quite unlike the way Ivan fought when he and Criston would spar.

Alas, Criston was outmatched and quickly disarmed by Iorveth, who kicked back the knight. Once more, Iorveth was prepared to deliver the final blow, but then Ivan pushed some Scoia'tel elves aside to jump front and block Iorveth's sword.

Ivan pointed his sword at the older elf, panting from his earlier exertions; the young half elf did his best to steel his expressions, feeling rather intimidated from the hard stare Iorveth was giving him. There was little doubt in Ivan's mind that the older elf knew exactly what he was, despite keeping his ear concealed behind a scarf. That suspicion had been confirmed when the elven commander addressed Ivan in his native tongue,

"You take their side, In'hied?" Iorveth questioned, tilting his head in curiosity, "you keep your elf blood well hidden, do they even know what you are?" "I am a knight of Westeros," Ivan answered back in the same language, "I have sworn to protect the blood of the king and his family, that includes the princess you have stolen away. It would be in your best interest to return her to us so we may go and leave your comrades be." Iorveth only made a small mirthless smile at that, "you refuse to answer my question, boy. Very well..." Iorveth then made a fighting stance, "you wish to side with those who'd soon see you dead should your true blood be revealed, than so be it...I shall treat you as I would any other d'hoine."

The two clashed swords. Being light on his own feet, Ivan was able to match Iorveth step for step and steel for steel. While Ivan had youth on his side, Iorveth was the more experienced fighter, having centuries of fighting on his side compared to what he saw as a small boy in his eyes who was barely past two decades of age at most.

Being occupied with fighting Ivan, Iorveth didn't see Criston sneak around and hilt the elf in the back by the hilt of his sword, and then sucker punched Iorveth across the jaw. Ivan then kicked Iorveth's dropped sword away from him, leaving the elf defenseless. Iorveth faced Criston, contempt in his eye, which became more intense when Roche joined in and apprehended Iorveth. "What is your name?" Iorveth had inquired of the knight. "Ser Criston Cole," was what Criston answered. "Huh..." Iorveth said back, "Ser...and here I thought you Westerosi knights prided yourselves in being honorable...even in battle."

Criston ignored that insult and turned to address Ivan, "what was it, he said to you?" he asked. Ivan wasn't sure how to answer that truthfully, so he offered this as a response, "he thought me at a disadvantage due in part...to my age."

-------------------------

"Once the battle was all but concluded, Commander Roche deigned to search for the two of you amongst the ruins," Criston finished his telling of the story.

"Your efforts are to be commended then, Ser Cole," Aemond praises, "Same as you, Ser Ivan."

Ivan looked over to where Iorveth was being held by the Blue Stripes, only to quickly averting his gaze when he saw the look of seething hatred and contempt in the elf's green eye.

"Considering these two were instrumental in the capture of Iorveth, I am inclined to agree," Roche quips in. "The kingslayer is still out there," Geralt speaks up, "he escaped during the battle." "We'll have another chance," Roche assures.

Aemma tried not to react to that news, tried not to let it get to her that the same man who kidnapped her and then tried to drag her back to the Scoia'tel camp was still on the run, and was still possibly holding a grudge against her- no not her, her father- and still wanted justice of his own.

Aemond turned his gaze to the Woodland Fox, trying to form an opinion of him now that he was captured and not likely to cause harm. This was the elf who called for justice from Aemond's arrogant uncle, the one who apparently orchestrated the assassination of the Temerian king and the kidnapping of Aemma to hold as a hostage. From Aemond had heard back in Flotsam, Iorveth had a reputation- putting it mildly- for his seething hatred of humankind and what they did to him and his people, and having more human kills to his record than any other elf still alive. Aemond had to wonder if part that hatred stemmed from whoever took the elf's missing eye- something Aemond could disturbingly relate too as he still held a similar grudge albeit on a subconscious level. From what he heard from Cole, Iorveth was also a very skilled fighter, fast and light on his feet, making Aemond think of the way Ivan fights.

Must be an elf thing, the prince thinks.

Iorveth brought his attention to aforementioned prince, "you..." he sneers, "Mine eyesight must be getting old, or the dragon lords had thought to send someone else in place of the one we asked for." "Your plans have failed Iorveth," Roche states with a certain air of triumph, "your own calls for justice will be awaiting you at the capital." "...that remains to be seen," Iorveth says in a low tone, standing straight to remind the Blue Stripes Commander of their height difference, before turning his head to address Ivan in his native language, "no matter how close you are to their family, the dragons will come for you eventually...especially when they begin to notice how slowly you age as the years go by. Did that ever occur to you, boy?" Ivan turned away to face Criston, refusing to make eye contact with the older elf. Of course, he has thought about that, though not necessarily at the time he took the Kingsguard oath; Ivan knew half-elves do have a longer life span compared to humans, but he was never told how long those lives can last.

Iorveth then turned his attention over to the princess, shocking everyone by addressing her in High Valyrian of all things, "Gaomagon ivestragon aōha kepa ziry owes nykeā gēlȳn naejot se Aen Siedhe. Daor matter skorkydoso olvie jēda emagon rēbagon, nyke nykeēdrosa intend naejot gūrogon zȳhon egros hae issa trophy tolī nyke behead zirȳla rūsīr ziry." (Do tell your father he owes a debt to the Aen Siedhe. No matter how much time has passed, I still intend to take his sword as my trophy after I behead him with it)

Aemond moved in front of Aemma in response, "do not speak to her, bandit" he warns, "especially in the Valyrian tongue." Iorveth only made a small, mirthless smile in response, clearly proud he was able to rattle the young Targaryen prince. The elf stood straight once again, reverting back to his native tongue, not seeming to address anyone specific,

"And to think the Virgin of Aedirn wanted to meet you. She was certain you were the one."

Aemma stopped in her tracks upon hearing those words, something that didn't go unnoticed by Aemond. He gave the elf a hard stare, wondering what he was he said that Aemma picked up on (worth noting that while Aemond does know Aemma knows some rudimentary elven, he doesn't know she's fully fluent in it thanks to Vesemir). Ivan and Geralt, both also fluent in Elven, did a better job hiding their surprise at that cryptic statement.

"...back to Flotsam with you," Roche states, shoving Iorveth forward, "there's a place in the prison barge just for you, you whoreson."

"Are they going to execute him?" Aemma asks. "...it is a possibility," Jaskier admits, "the question is if they will even bother with a trial beforehand."

Aemma had mixed feelings about that. She may not care about Iorveth or the Scoia'tel considering what they put her through personally, but that didn't mean their grievances were not legitimate, she understood that now. And part of her was curious to Iorveth's cryptic message.

"Well we better follow," Jaskier states, placing a hand on Aemma's shoulder, "As I said before, we have much to discuss."

Aemond took another look at Geralt who followed Roche before addressing his cousin, "what made you change your mind about him?" "I don't think I have fully," Aemma admits before giving a brief description of Geralt's amnesia, hence her hesitancy to carry out any justice she believed was due, "it wouldn't seem right to do something like that right now," she concludes, "especially when it turns out I don't even know the full story. I only know what my father had told me when I was a child."

"Hmm," was all Aemond said.

-------------Flotsam Tavern------------

Back in Flotsam, there was a celebration it seemed amongst the locals, especially when they saw Roche walking into town having the Scoia'tel commander held captive. Despite Commandant Laredo's initial anger at the Blue Stripes and Jaskier for their deception, he decided to let that insolence slide in favor of commending the group for the removing the threat to the village. Roche took Iorveth to the prison barge and Geralt had disappeared to wherever most likely for some unfinished business.

At the tavern, Zoltan had ordered a mug of ale when the Westerosi trio walked in and behind was a woman he had not seen before, but could see right away this was the long lost princess the trio had been searching for. He smiled, thankful to Melite that the daughter of the Lady of Larks was safe and unharmed. Having remembered the Lady Lark, the dwarf could see the resemblance in Aemma as well.

Jaskier had gone off shortly once they arrived to remove the frock and put back on his usual ensemble before rejoining the lot at the tavern with hopes of making up lost time with his niece. Aemond insisted he, Criston, and Ivan move to another spot in the tavern so as to grant Jaskier and Aemma that space to bond with conversation.

It started with some small talk over a meal, to which Aemma was quick to devour given how long it's been since she a decent meal to fill her belly. Once satiated, this soon led into Jaskier regaling Aemma of his own adventures as well as her mother's adventures as well. "She did not!" Aemma laughs at one tale, finding it difficult her mother could've found herself in such a situation. "Oh but she did," Jaskier insisted, taking a sip of vodka he ordered, "those soldiers wouldn't leave those two she-elves alone, so she took upon herself to give them a taste of their own medicine. Obviously it pissed them off, and rather than acknowledge their hypocrisy, they saw fit to chase her out of town. Not that she minded, she was more often than used to the road life."

"...nobody ever told those kind of stories before," Aemma realizes, "whenever anybody told me about my mother it was always either about how beautiful her singing was...or her approximation to my father...it's almost like she wasn't even a person half the time, just a wisp of what she really was. She had a life before me, before her time in court, a crazy, complex beautiful life."

"It really is a shame about that," Jaskier says in a low tone, "...what did your father ever say about her?" "she was someone he loved dearly," Aemma tells him, "someone who was taken away from him by...by a bad person, and he never saw her again after that." "That person being Geralt, the one you wanted to feed to your dragon at first," Jaskier realized to which Aemma nods.

"Gods, that man really did brainwash you," Jaskier mutters, though Aemma didn't notice. "I know the witcher doesn't have any memories of me or my mother," Aemma says, "the sorceress Tris said she was trying to work on that." "She is," Jaskier nods.

"I told Geralt if he can regain those memories he would tell me what he knew of the nature of my parent's relationship," Aemma explains, "but now that I found you, my mother's brother, maybe you could tell me something about it."

The joyful demeanor on Jaskier's face disappeared at that request.

He remembered that time when he was reunited with his sister once again when she was taken by the sorceress Yennefer to save her when she was at death's door. He remembered when they were on the road to Nilfgaard, how (y/n) how fought hard to make it appear she was well and that her time in King's Landing had not effected her, tried to deny both to others and to herself that the abuse Daemon had put her through hadn't damaged her in any way. The reality was the opposite, and he remembered the times (y/n) would thrash in her sleep at night, only to wake up screaming in terror, and still thinking she was in danger, only to calm down when she realized she was safe and away from King's Landing and from the Rogue Prince. This had also led to (y/n) crying upon realizing that not being there also meant she didn't her daughter in her arms anymore. There were even times during the day when (y/n) would experience full blown panic attacks on the road seemingly out of nowhere, and not even his nor Geralt's soothing assurance could dissuade her during those times.

It had taken a great deal of time and patience along with some wise counseling from their vampire friend Regis for (y/n) to finally admit that her captivity and the abuse she endured along with having Aemma snatched out of her arms had caused significant intrinsic damage to her psyche.

It had taken some time longer for her to process the trauma, and come to terms that even though she wouldn't be the same person, even though she would still get upset about it at times, she was not damaged beyond repair.

Jaskier wanted to tell her all, and yet...

"It's not a happy story, Aemma," he tells her, "and even if I could, it is not my story to tell." "What do you mean?" Aemma frowned a bit. "your father...he did things to your mother. Bad things," Jaskier explains in a somber tone, "your mother kept those things to herself at first, especially when I came to see her in King's Landing, but I could tell something was wrong. Those bad things had a way of bubbling up to the surface at times. She had nightmares, both during her sleep...and when she was awake."

Aemma put her hand over her mouth to contain the shock. She knew her father could be scary at times, but he was never cruel, not to her, her stepmother, or her sisters. What were those horrible things her father inflicted upon her mother?

"But how- I mean...no, he couldn't have hurt my mother. He loved her, why would he hurt someone he loved? He tried to protect my mother, he tried to protect me from the White Wolf."

"He really did drum that into you, didn't he," Jaskier realized, "Aemma, your mother wasn't taken away from you that night, she wanted to leave. Geralt and myself, we did everything we could to get the both of you out of there, but then your father ripped you from your mother's arms before the two of you could get past the portal-" "my father took me from my mother?" "He didn't- of course he wouldn't have," Jaskier exasperates, "he would have conveniently left that part out."

"But why would-" Before Aemma could finish her question, she looked in Jaskier's eyes and saw flashes of memories past to that night in King's Landing, where Jaskier along with Geralt and (y/n) and some strange woman Aemma did not know were crossing through a portal. It looked like they were in a hurry. She saw Jaskier cross and eagerly await the rest of the party, only to see Geralt and (y/n) go through and the portal close without Aemma in her mother's arms.

She saw her mother cry out at that moment,

"AEMMA!"

The flashback ended and Aemma had no words to say at this point.

"Aemma?" Jaskier gives his niece a confused look at her newfound state of shock.

Aemma quickly gets on her feet and runs out of the tavern past her cousin and the two knights, who were now wondering what the Bard had said to upset the princess.

Chapter 43

#the witcher #house of the dragon #hotd #geralt of rivia #oc #the lady of larks #jaskier #iorveth #vernon roche #aemond targaryen #aemond x oc #zoltan chivay #criston cole

6 notes · View notes

tiisshu · 11 months ago

Text

did i ever post this particular j/askier/g/eralt allergy thing on here? its over on my ao3 and i had to read it before i remembered writing it lol.

Of Course

"Geralt! There you are, old boy!". Chirped a vibrant and cheerful Jaskier. He had been traveling down along this road for the better part of the morning, it had started out as a dreary and damp spring but it had dawned bright and warm and Jaskier had began the trek to some of the smaller villages along the western realm of Velen. He couldn't really remember ever coming this way at this time of year before, usually choosing to stay in the larger cities where warm fires and crowds could chase away the gloom of mud and the smell of the decaying leaves along some of the less maintained roads. But here he was delighted to have happened upon the stopped Witcher near a stream refilling his water bags.

The answering groan made the edges of his smile widen, " Ah there he is, knew it was that overwhelming charm I missed. What you up to, huh? On your way to another Adventure? Monsters to kill?". Geralt recapped the final water bag and straightened, looking the bard over and trying to remember how many years had passed this time in blissful silence. He supposed there were worse times to have run into the chatty and opinionated Jaskier.

Still, he knew he'd regret it as he often did, Jaskier just... never seemed to assess the danger in a situation with any real skill and Geralt was left with far more objectives in a fight than necessary. He was hesitant to send the bard away though, something that had remained a touchy subject but mostly left unsaid since what had happened in the Mountains

. . . .

In truth, it really didn't take long. The regret that is. After a couple hours of travel and Jaskier's incessant ramblings of this banquet and that woman, and various other tedious things the pair fell into a sort of rhythm with Jaskier singing various lines to himself and making adjustments to a ballad he was composing and Geralt riding atop Roach at a pace that allowed the Witcher to go over some details in his mind on a contract he was hoping to pick up along the way. Each of them lost in their own task.

Huh.. ihh...

Geralt snapped out of his thoughts instantly, for a moment scanning the countryside- wondering what had broken his concentration when Jaskier suddenly twisted to the side and aimed a trio of sneezes at the ground.

Hih'Isssh! Issshuu! Huh' ih'Shiew! "ah, Bless me. Hitting the ol' dusty road a little too hard perhaps", He joked as he dug through his pockets in search of a handkerchief.

He always seemed to have one or two on him, though he'd start out the night without one. Odd little mementos of a love affair, he had once quipped after a party had gone particularly well and somehow he had arrived back at their inn with three tucked into his lute case. He supposed adding the tears in while he played "Her sweet kiss" had been a bit much, but he had been well rewarded for the efforts. Thrice.

Geralt hummed and tried to regain his momentum with planning when Jaskier slowed in pace and tilted his head back, lips parting slightly as he hitched, searching with half closed eyes to see if he could catch a sun ray to help it along.

"Huh... Hih' ... Ahhk'SSSHU! Eh'Hisshiew! 'Tsuu! Gods, s..s-still?", he turned away from the path and blew his nose, huffing indignantly when he found it did nothing to quell the itch deep in his sinuses and he could already feel his breath catching. Geralt sighed heavily and leaned forward slightly, swinging his leg over Roach as he dismounted. Jaskier cast him a fleeting look before he was burying his nose in the handkerchief again, his shoulders shaking with each hitch.

Hae'esshiew! Hishhah!.. Hngkxxt! "I.. Hih'.. I was kiddig about the dusty ro-ah- road", Jaskier tried to explain, realizing that this sudden sneezing really could only be explained by some sort of allergy. Fuck .

It didn't take a Witcher's senses to see just how miserable the bard was. The area around his nose and eyes was beginning to take on an irritated pink hue that stood out starkly against his natural complexion.

After each volley of sneezes Jaskier would cough dryly as he tried to catch his breath, a wheeze was beginning to be audible as he scraped in each breath before he was off again sneezing helplessly into his handkerchief.

Hng-xsst! 'tsuu Snf ...hih'Tshiew! Huh.. Heh.. F..fuck...

"Jaskier".

Huh' Ehg... W-wud? D'esshiew

The Witcher plucked one of the vibrant red blooms from one of the towering shrubs along the path and unceremoniously shoved it up under Jaskier's nose. The bard only managed to tilt his head quizzically and look up at him with those watery blue eyes before realization and the dawning need to sneeze hit him.

"Fuh..fuck Gera-ah-AhhShiew! Hae'eh hih?... Hih'Isshuu! Hngk'tsuu huh.. Ahh'Sssshhiew!

Despite the growing nagging feeling that he should be more sympathetic, Geralt had to roll his eyes, of course the Bard would be allergic to the hardiest and most abundant plant this side of Midscope.

"Honeysuckle", Geralt said then, answering the bard's cut off question. He tossed the picked flower and turned to gather Roach's reins to keep the horse from wandering off grazing.

Jaskier had distanced himself from the offending flower and was mopping futilely at his face as his body tried to rid itself of the invading threat, great allergic tears running down his cheeks and soaking into the collar of his doublet where an angry red rash could be seen cropping up along the jawline.

Heh.. Oh cuh-come on- uH'Hisshiew!

Jaskier at this point thought death might be preferable.

Leave it to him to cause such a scene so soon after convincing Geralt to allow him to accompany him, it had taken absolutely ages, but here he was being a mess in front of a Witcher.

That Witcher, in particular.

He'll tell me to leave again, he thought glumly, blowing his nose as thoroughly as he could now that the sneezing was dying down and being replaced by a dry itchy feeling beneath the surface of his face and a thick oppressive stuffiness that left him needing to breathe out of his mouth exclusively. Lovely.

The next thing he knew though he was being hoisted to his feet effortlessly by the larger man and hauled over to the horse. Geralt managed to extricate the soiled handkerchief from the bard and toss it into an unused saddlebag with a concerning wet squelch.

"Do you need an invitation?", Geralt growled when Jaskier stared at him uncomprehendingly. His watery gaze ping-ponging between the Witcher and Roach.

Geralt prickled with what he assumed was Jaskier just being a little shit and clarified, " Unless... you'd rather stay here", he gestured to further down the path where another Honeysuckle shrub grew.

The Witcher had planned their route down by Pyke Isle where he had heard talk of a few contracts, but as the season was just beginning it's shift towards warmer weather, they'd be better off heading north...

He narrowed his eyes at the bard and gestured toward Roach. Jaskier cleared his throat and seemed to remember himself and clamored to raise himself into the saddle. As if to remind him of what exactly had led to this sudden shift in plans Jaskier felt that demanding tickle buzz to life along the sensitive walls of his sinuses for one last comment and he raised an arm to bury his face in the crook of an elbow.

Hih' Ih... Snf Hih' Isshiew!

Geralt decided that was enough, he pulled a simple square of fabric out of one of the other saddlebags and handed it up to Jaskier before stepping back and tugging Roach's reins gently to begin the trek back to the crossroads so they could travel north.

"You owe me", Geralt said for good measure, couldn't have the bard thinkin' he had grown soft in his old age.

But Jaskier only sniffled and for once was silent.

#sneezeblr #snzfucker #sickfic #snzfic #allergic!J/askier #The W/itcher snzfics #reblog?

16 notes · View notes

friendlyreaderandco · 10 months ago

Text

Alrighty!!! Hello hello. Since I’ve had such great luck with the fic finding help (thank you for all of the help) I figured I would repost my currently missing scenes and one new ask. These should all be completed stories on Ao3.

1. (New) GeraltxJaskier. These two fall into bed together and the next morning Geralt realizes Jaskier was too quiet the night before based on the other times Geralt’s overheard his bard find his pleasure. He gets a bit insecure and spirals thinking he didn’t please the other so in the next few towns he forces him to keep his distance hoping to encourage the bard to find someone who pleases him. Jaskier doesn’t though and Geralt is baffled. Then the Witcher decides to get hammered and the bard interrupts and says something like “don’t drink too much. I have plans for you and need you sober.” At which point Geralt tells him to find another partner and jaskier finally breaks down and asked Geralt what’s been up with him and Geralt opens up about his feeling and Jaskier says, “first of all darling we’re going to talk about how many times you’ve listened to me. Second I was simply overwhelmed and didn’t want you to be (maybe annoyed) by my talking.” Then they leave before Jaskiers finished his set, which Geralt asked about and he says some things are more important and they live happily ever after.

2. (RE-ASK) Stiles x Derek. I remember less about this one but I did try to find it by keyword with no luck. In this one Derek and Stiles are going on a first date and Derek is driving them. Stiles is acting odd. And Derek asked him why he’s not fidgeting or touching his stuff without permission and finds out one of the ladies (Erica and Alison maybe) “reminded” stiles that he’s super annoying and to curb all of his behaviors. Then Derek has to tell him how much he likes stiles for who he is! I know it’s a bit vague. I also kind of remember stiles sitting on his hands, getting permission to go through the glove box and put on a different cd and I believe their date was in a diner type setting.

3. (RE-ASK) JaskierxGeralt had recently gotten together and they are camping in the woods when Jaskier wakes up in the middle of the night (possibly due to a nightmare but I wouldn’t count on it) and decides to go take a bath in the river nearby and after a few moments Geralt joins him. During their conversation Jaskier says he has to act and Geralt should be used to it. So of course Geralt takes that in the worst possible way and says something along the lines of “you have to act in front of me?” Luckly Jaskier reads his self-hatred quickly and panics trying to explain that he doesn’t act because of Geralt but has to sometimes in front of him. I know, vague. Probably why I can’t find it 😭 I don’t remember anything else!!

Any way figured I’d try my luck once more, just in case anyone knew with some answers stumbled across it. Any help in locating these is greatly appreciated!!!

Ahah! Number 1 has been located by myself as I delved the Archive! For anyone interested, please see the link below for What Happens Next by Xxenjoy!

Number 2 has been located!!

#geralt x jaskier #ao3 #fic finder #geralt of rivia #gerskier #jaskier #the witcher #please help #send help #derek x stiles #sterek fic search

8 notes · View notes

thenightling · 2 years ago

Text

Which Witcher is Witch?

Note: I know there are multiple-in universe Witchers. This post is specifically in regard to the title of the franchise. It's time to address something in The Witcher fandom. In the Witcher novels you have a monster hunter (called a Witcher) named Geralt of Rivia, who adopts an orphaned princess from a fallen kingdom. Her name is Ciri. Geralt had accidentally claimed Ciri via a magical invocation known as "Law of Surprise." When you call upon Law of Surprise in front of someone, whatever they gain next now belongs to you. It can be as random as a sack of flour or a puppy. But the thing about Law of Surprise is it invokes Destiny itself and once invoked it cannot be denied. The person who called upon Law of Surprise cannot decline what he has claimed and the person who has to give the thing cannot refuse to give it or Destiny will intervene to make it happen. Geralt had invoked Law of Surprise (without realizing it) in front of a pregnant royal. When he learned she was pregnant he fled rather than take her child. Twelve-years-later the kingdom was sieged and Princess Ciri was the only survivor, forcing Geralt to embrace his Destiny and accept her as his adoptive daughter.

Now, when I first got into The Witcher a fan boy scolded me that Ciri could not count as a "real" Witcher and that "the author said so." He insisted that because she never underwent the Trial of the grasses she would never count as REAL Witcher no matter what was said in the novels or video games. This was before I learned how the novels and video games actually end, mind you, or perhaps I would have had a better rebuttal for this totally-not-a-misogynist. Recently I saw some interviews with the showrunner and writer for The Witcher Netflix TV series. I am well-aware that there have been many deviations from the novels but I do find it a suspicious tell that the two main things that seem to offend certain fan boys are 1. The canonical realization that Jaskier is bisexual / pansexual and 2. The idea that Ciri will become a Witcher, herself...

The best scenario ending of the third Witcher video game (Witcher 3: The Wild Hunt) is Ciri becomes a Witcher, herself, and goes off on her own adventures. In the novels Ciri eventually ends up in another universe (possibly our own) where she rides off the Knights of The Round Table. The TV series is already hinting at going in the direction of Ciri becoming a Witcher, herself. And now the showrunners have pretty much confirmed that Ciri is the actual main protagonist of the show. But there are angry fanboys whining "But Geralt is The Witcher!" No. Not necessarily. The title may be subversive. You thought you were following the adventures of The Witcher this whole time when you were watching Geralt but the reality is Ciri is who the title is for. Ciri is also The Witcher. Now there are angry fans whining and bemoaning the idea that Netflix has "changed The Witcher" and made Ciri the main character even though "The title is for Geralt." Not necessarily. I'm not sure why so many of the fans seem to be reacting badly to this. It was kind of expected the whole time. It's how the video games end, which are actually set after the novels. And in the novels she rides off with some of King Arthur's men. She's pretty much The Witcher there too. I'm getting deja vu of the angry "My adventures with Superman" fans from just a few days ago who whined about what a "Simp" Clark is for Lois- meaning he's doting and devoted to her and wants for her happiness. Superman was always like this... Fanboys, this sort of sexism went out style in the sixties.

#The Witcher #Ciri #Geralt of Rivia

26 notes · View notes

thelostgirl21 · 1 year ago

Text

OMFG! I never saw that article! 😍 It's so awesome!

Also, I wish I knew at what point they decided to just... delete entire scenes and dialogues to replace them with "Extraordinary Things", and what was Hugh's first response/reaction to Joey's suggestion to have Jaskier sing for Radovid instead.

Like, did Joey come up with that idea BEFORE they started shooting?

Or did they shoot that scene in the carriage with Philippa (first scene Hugh and Joey ever shot together, apparently), Joey saw how many layers of emotions and intent Hugh could convey with his eyes, realized that what Jaskier just might need, first and foremost, is someone that shows an interest in listening to him play with a desire to better understand him; and therefore allowed his "inner Jaskier" to take over, compose, and sing something for Radovid?

Because, as "fun and flirty" as the dialogue in that leaked audition scene was, I don't think it would have succeeded in making as deep a connection between them as "Extraordinary Things" did.

Radovid's little "pick your favorite, please," when asking Jaskier for a song, him showing genuine interest in listening to what Jaskier wants to sing about the most (rather than dictating what he'd like to hear from him)...

The amount of respect and interest Radovid is showing for Jaskier's art is not so much about Jaskier's technical skills per say, but more about his songs revealing his innermost thoughts, and the way he perceives and experiences the world around him.

Yes, showing appreciation for Jaskier's lute playing and singing itself, and talking about how the instrument and the artist can elevate each other is nice - especially if it's used as a metaphore for something that would have been relevant to the scene or the context.

But Jaskier already has "fans". However, the people closest to him (except perhaps Ciri) on the show tend to show very little interest in the content of his songs or his singing.

Perhaps things have changed with Geralt since the mountain. But he once said that his singing was like ordering a pie and finding it has no filling; and that the Countess of Stael might have left him because of it.

Yennefer's first time hearing him sing happened while she was threatening him (and she referred to him as a "sing-songy twit" when she saw him again in Season 2. It was said affectionately, but still)...

Yarpen said Jaskier couldn't do anything for him, because he has "ears and good taste".

That "fan" Jaskier met at the docks was an entitled arsehole that didn't care much about the things Jaskier was trying to share or tell through his songs. He just wanted to point out all the things that "needed fixing".

Seanchai was perhaps the first to truly acknowledge Jaskier's storytelling as being something valuable and powerful - worth preserving and saving.

But she valued his skills as a bard as a means of inspiring and bringing hope to others...

So maybe... just maybe, what Jaskier needed was someone that truly paid attention to his words, showed interest the "heart" of his song rather than the "art", and told him that said heart was so beautiful, fascinating, and precious, that it was worth getting to know and even learn.

Radovid is a very active listener that yearns to be a part of Jaskier's world, and to connect with him... Someone that shows interest in what matters to Jaskier and offers support.

"Extraordinary Things" was a stroke of genius, because it allowed Jaskier to be at his most emotionally vulnerable and sincere with Radovid, and helped Radovid realise that it was safe for him to trust and allow himself to be vulnerable and honest with Jaskier as well.

Without it, you'd have had two deeply traumatised souls that have learned to hide who they truly are from others as a survival mechanism in their respective worlds, struggling with letting their guards down and allowing people past those barriers.

So yeah, I'm kind of curious to know at what moment the inspiration struck Joey to have Jaskier be the first one to emotionally strip down naked right in front of Radovid under the "cover" of a song, and what Hugh's response to that idea was.

And I'm also very curious to know who came up with the idea of having Radovid learn Jaskier's song, and then sing the first few lines of "Extraordinary Things" back to Jaskier when Jaskier is questioning him about what he wants.

Was it one of the writer's ideas (as a sort of follow up to the song that Joey had composed), was it Joey thinking/knowing that this would be the best way to get Jaskier to give into his growing feelings for Radovid? Or did Hugh feel that this is how Radovid would respond...

Because there's something very poetic and deeply touching in the way that Hugh sings it... Taking Jaskier's song, and expressing a desire for it to become their song, in a way...

It's a lovely way for Radovid to express a desire to form a relationship with Jaskier, while voicing his concern about his playing "being shit" and looking like he's nervous about falling short of expectations (according to what Hugh said in interviews, Radovid makes a connection with Jaskier that he's never made before, as no one's ever been that honest with Radovid), and having Jaskier responds with "maybe that's something we can work on", sort of showing a desire to commit to the relationship and figure things out with him.

Regardless of how that moment came to be, without Joey basically going "less talking more singing", it never would have occurred in the first place.

And Hugh's acting choices when it comes to how Radovid responds to Jaskier are basically just perfect...

There are infatuations that feel like people are moving too fast in a relationship without knowing each other while idealising the other partner...

And relationships that just sort of "realistically take off right away", because there's this sort of recognition that there's a unique type of compatibility between two people, and both of them wish to explore it while showing a willingness to make efforts, confront their own flaws and issues, step out of their usual comfort zone, and rely on each other to make it work.

And Joey and Hugh's in character interactions are able to convey that. It's absolutely fascinating to watch.

For Cassie Clare, who we luckily get to see more of in Season 3 as Philippa Eilhart, she highlighted that it was a "masterclass" to watch Batey and Skinner play off each other.

“There were scenes that I got to kind of observe. … Philippa's there but she's observing [Radovid] with the Jaskier," Clare said. "You almost don't have to act those moments where Philippa's like, 'I think something could happen here,' because you could feel this chemistry and them playing off each other, and being so present."

"You had to be so present, throwing lines in and the script is so in your body that they could play around that. It was beautiful. It was like a masterclass, being an owl on the shoulder watching over here.”

Also

"He's just really fun to act with," Skinner said. "He ad libs and stuff, and you just have to sort of listen and try and tell the truth."

Now, how much of radskier is finally just them flying around what was given and just landing back on the script when they had to move the plot forward ? I am finally gonna assume from now on that every line is an improv 😅

#Jaskier #Radovid #Radskier #My thoughts #Other people's awesome thoughts #If you ever feel yourself useless #Remember there are actual people writing for Jaskier's character on “The Witcher”...#Only to have Joey show up and let Jaskier loose and just allow his inner bard to do whatever the fuck he wants...#And now he's got himself a boyfriend that's basically the literal embodiment of the fandom just staring at Jaskier with huge heart eyes...#And wanting to figure every little thing about him...#And Jaskier's just thriving!#Seriously season 4 and 5 better not fuck up that romance after they built such a solid and lovely foundation for it in season 3...#Let Jaskier have his Extraordinary Things...#It's not a want it's a need and he needs it! I say!

88 notes · View notes

bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 5 years ago

Text

A Great Treasure

(Jaskier just constantly getting kidnapped by dragons and dressed real pretty? Yeah. I’m into it.)

tw: gratuitous, almost My Immortal levels of outfit description because I am A Ho For The Look, dragons being horny, Geralt being soft as fuck but also kinda horny

---

The next dragon that took Jaskier wasn’t nearly as sneaky. Nor was it green. The great, sapphire-blue reptile swooped down above the road in broad daylight and plucked the surprised bard up with its great talons, disappearing over the tops of the trees before Geralt could so much as think to pull his sword. The Witcher heard Jaskier’s startled cry echo out over the forest and urged Roach into a canter. He departed from the beaten path and took off in the same general direction the creature had been headed. “It hasn’t even been three full fucking weeks yet. Fuck.”

Hello, Jaskier! I’m a friend of Etheid’s, the dragon introduced herself. The draconic method of telepathic communication still bothered the bard a little but the blue dragon’s voice seemed more sing-song than Etheid’s had been. Certainly more feminine. Call me Lythos, or Lyth for short.

“Nice to meet you, Lythos,” Jaskier muttered, clenching his eyes shut tightly. “Let’s talk more when we’re on solid ground, yeah?”

Afraid of heights, bardling?

“Just a smidgen of a little bit.”

Worry not, we’re nearly to my tower.

“Another tower?”

Whatever happened to talking on solid ground?

“I’ve been kidnapped by two dragons in one month. I’m curious.”

I doubt this will be the last time you’re kidnapped by a dragon, either. Not until one of my brethren gives up during their turn or loses the bet.

“Their turn? What bet?! What are you talking about?”

I will explain the situation to you more fully when we land. There is much to be discussed. Many things to plan. Many rules to be determined and recorded for the others.

Jaskier sighed, glad he’d left his lute tied to Roach’s saddlebags today, and let himself be carried off to yet another strange adventure. “So you guys are just going to keep swooping in and stealing me away like this because it’s fun?”

Yes. And because Borch said that you and Geralt are kind-hearted and friendly mortals. We dragons don’t meet many such humans in our travels; we’d like to reward you somehow.

“So you’re rewarding me by kidnapping me?”

That’s why we included the second part of the deal, with the elaborately designed outfits. It’s not just because we enjoy collecting treasures from all over the Continent and squirreling them away to play with later; it’s also our form of payment to you. If you’re dressed from head to toe in silk and gold when Geralt rescues you then there’s no time to stop and take those items off before you ‘escape’. You can keep them or sell them; anything you are given by one of us should be considered payment for services rendered.

“And the service that Geralt and I are providing is...entertainment?”

Correct. It would be unfair to use up so much of a Witcher’s time without paying him.

“You’d be surprised how many people do that, actually,” Jaskier griped. “Village after village, turning him away without payment just because he’s a mutant and a freak. It’s horrible!”

Now you understand why my kin are so desperate for something good in the world. The love between you and Geralt is pure and strong, that is the other reason we chose the two of you.

Jaskier blushed. “We’re just a couple of flimsy mortals that happened to bump into each other and get along. Most of the time. It’s a very human thing to do. There are other couples in need of some emotional urging, if you’re looking to orchestrate a romance.”

No, we wish only to further yours. Now, would you care to look through the clothes I’ve gathered? We have at least another day before your Witcher finds us.

“Less than a day if he chooses not to pause for meditation, the fool.”

He will not risk losing you, Lythos sighed happily. I checked in on him earlier; he is meditating and gathering his strength. He has admitted his love for you now and is determined to prove himself. How dreamy.

“That is absolutely precious! Ugh, I love him so much.”

Then let us make you lovely, so that when he arrives he is doubly excited to see you.

“I can’t argue with that logic. Not from such an ancient and wise creature.”

Flattery gets you everywhere, bard, Lythos teased. She huffed out a thin cloud of steam and Jaskier chuckled in return.

“I know.”

---

“Are you kidding me?”

Absolutely not, the dragon shook its snout. Try them on. Unless you don’t like it, of course; I have other options, too.

“No, it’s all very lovely. It’s just...I get to keep them?”

Of course. I don’t want to make you change your clothes in the middle of Geralt’s daring rescue. That would totally ruin the romance!

“I suppose that would be rather odd. Even Geralt might catch on to something like that.” Jaskier held clothes the dragon had preferred in his hands, glancing once more at the suggested shirt. “What exactly is this supposed to be?”

It’s a tunic, of course. What else could it possibly be?

The bard gesticulated towards the dragon, holding the apparent tunic out for inspection as if he was shocked or surprised by Lyth’s choice. “It’s completely sheer!”

Yes, and it will make you look so very delicate, Lythos urged. Just try it on with the pants. Just once. You can change if you don’t like it, like I said. There’s a whole closet of costumery at your disposal, Jaskier.

The bard sighed and pulled the pants on first. They were made of a deep, peacock blue silk and hugged him in all the right places. He turned back and forth, observing their fit in the full-length mirror Lythos had provided. His legs were defined but the material wasn’t overly tight; it hadn’t bunched up near his thighs or ass like silk of this kind usually did. “Were these tailored to fit me?”

Yes, they were.

“How? I’ve only been here for a few hours and you pulled these directly from the armoire!”

Etheid passed along your measurements to the rest of us so that we could better prepare.

“Right, of course. Dragons. Bets. All that fun stuff,” the bard sighed. He tugged the gossamer shirt down over his head and tucked it neatly into the waistband of his high-waisted trousers. Jaskier glanced towards the mirror again and discovered that he looked...he looked amazing.

The shirt had been designed with a low, swooping neckline that revealed both his collarbones and a good portion of his chest. The thin, almost translucent white material left whatever the shirt did cover still almost entirely visible. When he blushed it could be rather obviously traced all the way down to his mid-chest. The giddy bard mussed his hair a little and did his best pouting ‘rescue me’ face; oh yes, that’s the way to do it.

Jaskier looked downright sinful.

“You are absolutely brilliant, Lythos! Geralt is going to lose his mind when he sees me in this ensemble.”

So you’ll wear it?

“This particular outfit is my new favorite. I’ll have to wait until the next dragon shows up before we can turn a profit from this whole bard-napping melodrama venture.”

There is always the jewelry. I can give you a few extra pieces to sell since you love the clothes so much; I have too much of the stuff sitting around and collecting dust anyway.

“Would you like it if I let you choose all my jewelry? I’m afraid I tend to go a bit overboard.”

Yes, yes! The dragon huffed happily, filling the space briefly with a cloud of steam. I have temporary earrings and bracelets and necklaces. I even have anklets if you so desire.

“Goody!” the bard rejoiced. “I love anklets! I never have good enough reason to wear them, though. This will be lovely. Do you mind if I roll the pants up to my knees? Geralt does so love the sight of my bare skin. I think it would drive him absolutely mad if we showed a little ankle for the Witcher.”

Please do whatever you see fit, my friend, Lythos insisted. You must sparkle for your White Wolf. You must look the part of the treasure he seeks to find!

“Ah, so I’m a treasure this time instead of a damsel?”

Hmm, yes. I think that makes it more interesting. What kind of treasure would you like to be?

“Geralt’s,” the bard breathed dreamily. The large, winged reptile rolled her eyes and huffed again.

Duh, that’s the point. I meant like...pirate treasure? A king’s treasure? I’ve never done roleplay before. Mostly just burning down the houses of rude nobles and kidnapping some princesses upon request. I’m not incredibly familiar with human treasure.

“Oh! I could be your hoard!”

You’re brilliant! Of course! This will be so fun. What if you laid in my tail when Geralt arrived? Like I was guarding you?

“Well then how would he get me away without hurting you?”

I could make him give a speech? Woo you away from me with your words?

“Oh, that’s very clever. Very dramatic. I love it!”

We do make a good team, I think.

“Do you have any makeup? This look would be excellent with some eyeliner.”

You are definitely as entertaining and fun as Etheid promised. I’m sure that Aramaris will enjoy you just as much.

“Wait, who’s Aramaris?”

They chose the next lot after me. Then, after Aramaris has their turn, Vertos would like a chance to partake.

“Hold on a minute. There’s a waiting list of dragons who want to kidnap me?”

And see Geralt come running to your aid, yes. It is rather sweet to watch and we are all very bored. We’re going to see who can make you the prettiest and get Geralt the most worked up.

“So this is just a game to you?”

As I said before, it is both a game and a legitimate matchmaking endeavor. Additionally, we’re compensating you for your time and trouble.

“I suppose,” Jaskier agreed. “Plus this outfit is absolutely to die for.”

Yes, and now to the makeup!

---

Geralt was very confused and very tired. He had tracked the dragon through the woods to yet another ancient, dilapidated tower. Jaskier was hidden at the top, no doubt, probably terrified out of his mind. This was the second dragon to capture his idiot bard in a fucking month, though the first time had been extremely unorthodox. Just plain odd, really, considering Geralt’s previous experiences.

Oh well, nothing he could do now except climb the tower and rescue Jaskier.

---

Jaskier was waiting for his Witcher to arrive while reclining within the coil of Lythos’s enormous blue tail His pants were only a half-shade brighter than her scales and the contrast was remarkably artistic (perhaps by design). The bard was barefoot and his pants were rolled up to just below the knee. Lyth had insisted on decking him out in lots of jewelry since Jaskier was to be her supposed hoard. It will be more realistic and believable if you’re dripping with silver and sapphires, bard. He found himself unable to argue with her logic once again.

Jaskier had a handful of thin silver bands around one ankle, a silver cuff around his left wrist, and another bejeweled cuff at the top of his left bicep, beneath the shirt. Lythos had added a thin silver chain around his neck, which fell to just above his chest hair and ended with a teardrop shaped sapphire pendant. Some kind of crushed gemstone powder had been dusted atop his collarbones and into his hair, making him seem to sparkle in the midday sun. He’d added a light, smudged layer of kohl around his eyes to widen and darken them like he had once at court. The dragon had also demanded that he slide several rings of various styles and sizes onto his long, tapered fingers. It will draw his attention to your hands, she explained. You will thank me tonight, I’m sure.

That suggestion had Jaskier blushing brightly and Lythos had nearly snorted fire from laughing so hard at the young man’s reaction.

Here he comes! She announced, bringing Jaskier’s back to the present. His blue eyes fixated on the thick wooden door that led from the chamber where Lythos lay curled and ‘guarding’ him to the bedchamber where he’d stayed the last two nights. Very shortly after her announcement there was a determined grunt, a heavy thud, and the door crashed open to reveal Geralt.

The Witcher was breathing heavily and his nostrils were flared but he wasn’t wearing his armor. He hadn’t been wearing it last time, either, and Jaskier wondered if he was already onto their little charade. “You know I won’t win if we battle,” Geralt admitted, staring across the room at the lounging dragon.

His eyes flickered to Jaskier for a moment, widened when they took in the bard’s appearance, and then returned to staring down the monster.

I don’t intend to fight you, Witcher, Lythos said, projecting her bored words into both of their minds. Jaskier knew that she was faking the cold disinterest but his heart still picked up speed when one of her large claws hooked beneath his chin and raised him into a slightly taller sitting position. Though I suspect that you’ve come to take back my newest treasure and I am loathe to let it go so soon.

The Witcher nodded, unable to form words. He was nervous for the life of his bard but he was also slightly distracted by the way Jaskier was being forced to arch his neck and tilt his head that way. The bard looked so fucking breakable and soft, surrounded by scales and held partially aloft by such a strong and pointed appendage. His eyes were wide and completely focused on the Witcher, his own peril seemingly irrelevant even as he gasped against the scraping claw. Geralt shook his head to clear it and narrowed his eyes even more. “Don’t hurt him.”

It’s my treasure, Lythos hummed dismissively. I will do with the human lad as I please. Go away, Witcher, and leave us to play.

“He’s not a toy,” Geralt growled. He reached for his sword and cursed when his hand swiped through empty air. He knew bringing a weapon up so many flights of stairs was pointless but he still should have kept it on him for safety. Jaskier made a gentle, nervous noise and the Wicher flinched. “Please don’t hurt him!”

You would barter for the human? For his safe return?

“Take me instead,” Geralt offered. He held his hands up in surrender and took a slow step forward. Lythos lowered Jaskier back down to his lazily reclined position and raised her scaly brow. The bard was shocked; he hadn’t been expecting the Witcher to do something so drastic right away. He’d anticipated some kind of argument first.

You would sacrifice yourself for him? Trade yourself to me in order to save him?

“Of course,” the Witcher scoffed. Lythos could hear his slow heartbeat starting to accelerate. “I love him. I’d do anything for him.”

Hmm. Little treasure, what do you think?

“I can’t let him do that for me. He’s a Witcher, I am merely a traveling bard. The world has more need for him than it does for me.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt half-whimpered. A pleading tone bled into his words as he took another step forward, this time towards the bard, “You foolish man. I know you. You’d grow bored here. You’d grow antsy to travel. You’d try to escape and you’d get yourself hurt or killed or...”

I protect what is mine, the dragon interrupted. He will be safe here. I will keep him happy and entertained.

“Please,” the Witcher sighed. He dropped to his knees and bowed his head forward, white hair falling in a curtain around his ridiculously attractive face. “Jaskier was the first good thing Destiny ever did for me. I can’t lose him.”

I have seen into your heart and know these feelings to be true, Lythos intoned. She spoke as if she was making a very difficult decision and not sticking to a vague pre-determined script. You may take the bard and go, but you must hurry. I may change my mind.

Jaskier clambered out from between the coils of her massive tail and allowed Geralt to sweep him up into those strong, stable arms. He clung to the Witcher’s neck and buried his face to hide his smile. Lythos said her final goodbye to the bard alone; I hope my kin treat you fairly. If they do not, let me know, and I shall take care of it. Thank you for the lovely time.

“Thank YOU,” Jaskier mouthed.

And then they began to descend the winding tower staircase.

---

“I hope I never see another dragon again in my life except for maybe Borch,” Geralt panted, urging Roach into a slightly faster canter.

“Yeah,” Jaskier said, smiling a little to himself. “Running into another dragon so soon after two nearly identical kidnappings would be very strange.”

#geraskier fic #geraskier #like 2.5k words i think #soft geralt #geraskier ficlet #in league with dragons #protective geralt #the dragons treat jaskier like a paper doll #let's dress up the bard #and mess with the witcher #that'll be fun #geraskier fanfic #geralt x jaskier #ooooh boy #in league with dragons pt 2 #we've kidnapped the bard so now what #how many will it take before geralt realizes something is up?#inhuman jaskier

192 notes · View notes

bethdutten · 3 years ago

Note

Could you possibly write something for Bucky/Frank/Geralt (whichever you feel fits) where the reader feels like they talk too much so they'll stop talking in the middle of a sentence, sometimes just won't talk for a day, and constantly asks if she's annoying?

I’ve been in a very Bucky mood lately so hope you like it!!

It wasn’t hard to be considered the most talkative in a group like this— Steve was always reserved, Natasha was a silent and observant presence, and Bucky, well. He wasn’t quite comfortable saying much yet.

But it wasn’t until Tony made a comment during dinner with everyone that you even noticed.

“At least we have someone to talk for the rest of you guys,” he’d smirked from across the table, pointing at you with his fork. “You always been like that?”

You blushed, taking a sip of your wine to hide your face. You cleared your throat, shrugging. “I, uh— didn’t really— I didn’t think I talked that much.”

“You don’t.”

The table all turned towards Bucky, utensils scraping against plates ceasing. He was picking at his food slowly, eyes down, seemingly oblivious to the pause in conversation.

Steve’s gaze shifted to you, giving you a sly smile as everyone else seemed to slowly go back to their meals.

You frowned, glancing over at Bucky, but he didn’t meet your eyes or say another word. The conversations felt a little forced after that.

Now you were more conscious of how much you talked.

When in meetings with the group, you’d catch yourself being the only one talking for awhile, and cut yourself off mid-sentence, giving a quick apology before you asked someone else a question so you wouldn’t be the only one talking.

You still forgot sometimes—you’d gone years without noticing, really—and would be laughing with Steve or ranting about a problem with Natasha before the fear would creep in again, and you’d have to ask, “Shit, I’m being annoying, aren’t I? I’ll shut up.”

You made it a point to just not talk at all some days; smile and nod at anyone who said anything to you, but those days made you realize even more that you did most of the talking.

No one seemed to really notice until one night you were sitting in the main living space, an old episode of Succession playing while you scrolled on your phone. You felt the couch dip beside you, and turned to find Bucky settling in with a blanket on his lap, giving you a shy smile as he threw a corner of it in your direction.

You thanked him quietly, burrowing into the soft fabric as you stared at the tv, not really seeing what was in front of your face.

“I miss your voice.”

You turned, the sudden comment by Bucky taking you by surprise. “What?”

He shrugged, picking at a loose thread in the blanket. “You haven’t been talking much. You used to all the time. It was.. I dunno. Comforting.”

You felt the corner of your mouth lift, asking softly, “Yeah?”

He nodded, glancing at you and giving you a grin. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t think anyone was really listening to what I said half the time.”

“I listen,” Bucky said earnestly, and you basked in the warmth and genuine acceptance you were feeling from him. You wondered how he was able to do that so easily, knowing not many people made an effort to make him feel that same way.

“I’d listen to you if wanted to talk,” you gently promised, but quickly added, “But I don’t mind if you don’t want to, either.”

Bucky bit his lip, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “Would you want to, uh, maybe go to dinner sometime? We can… listen and talk.”

You laughed, the warm feeling in your chest only expanding. “I would really like that, Bucky.” The tenseness that seemed to always reside in his shoulders relaxed, and he leaned a bit more into the couch, a flash of the self-assured Bucky that sometimes comes through.

“Good. So, what is this show about?”

You explained the dynamic of the Roy family while Bucky cuddled closer, and if eventually you ended up dozing together with your head on his shoulder and his left arm curled around your side in comfortable silence, then you’ll just keep that moment to yourself.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes request #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky fic

902 notes · View notes

fandom-junk-drawer · 3 years ago

Text

The Witcher Headcanon (Modern AU) - Fighting

Jaskier is not much of a fighter. Or, at least at he doesn't look like much of one.

He mostly relies on his Scary Dog Privilege when Geralt is with him to get out of having to fight. Being Besties with a Witcher Pack has it's perks.

Not many people want to mess with you when there is a big, scary looking Witcher following you around. Even less want to mess with you when you are regularly seen hanging out with five.

The only problem is that he can't seem to keep his mouth shut. He always has something to say when someone insults Geralt, or gods forbid, Yennefer. And he usually ends up having to have Geralt save him.

While he talks and jokes a lot and will sometimes get into minor fights when he's with Geralt or one of the other Kaer Morons, he is much quieter when he's alone, or with his band. He desperatley tries to avoid confrontation when he's alone.

If he can't avoid a fight, then he'll try to throw the first punch and then run like the devil. It's not the most dignified technique, but it works.

Fearing for his safety, Geralt had tried to teach him how to fight, taking him out to Kaer Morhen to train with the other Witchers.

Lambert thought it was a joke at first. Surely no one could be that mediocre, could they? The Witchers kept waiting for him to show some kind of improvement and start beating their a**es, or at least land a punch, but it never happened.

Jaskier just kept ending up getting layed out over and over. It seemed that the only thing he was good at, and got even better at was dodging their strikes.

It was almost comical, the way he squeaked and squawked as he barely managed to dodge, looking as if he was managing by pure dumb luck. But the longer it went on, the more Geralt noticed the oddness.

Jaskier didn't seem to be putting much effort into landing a hit. It was almost as if it wasn't that he couldn't, it was that he didn't want to... The few punches or jabs he did throw seemed to be purposfully bad, more of a distraction than an attemtp to strike. There were a few times where Geralt noticed some of his dodges seemed way too fluid and deliberate to be accidental.

Geralt had a talk with his brothers. There was definitely something there, some kind of skill, but their current technique wasn't bringing it out. Jaskier knew they weren't trying to hurt him. They came up with a plan. It ended up being a very bad idea. For the Witchers.

At the next training session all four of the Witchers had come at him at once.

Jaskier had mangaged to dodge a few strikes at first, going with his comical dodging act, had thrown a few punches and kicks, and then he'd tried to run, becoming more frantic as he tried to find an escape route. He'd floundered up after getting hit a few time and started begging them to stop, an odd desperate note in his voice. When they didn't let up, his tone took on a strange, hard edge. He'd felt a hand grab him by the arm...and the knives had come out, and everything had gone to h*ll.

Yennefer had been p*ssed when she found out after they contacted her to come calm him down. She'd spent the afternoon healing the more serious knife wounds and b*tching at them.

How dare you push Songbird to that point!

Ar*eholes, every single one of you!

I'm seriously considering taking away your Bard Priviliges for a week!

Come on, Lark, you are coming home with me!

You're sleeping on the couch when you get home, Geralt!"

Geralt finally understood why Jaskier resorted to trying to talk or joke his way out of a situation if he was alone, and in a heavily populated public space.

Geralt finally realized that Jaskier would fight someone twice his size, or fight any drunk who put his hands on Yennefer, because he knew Geralt would step in before things...went too far.

Jaskier had a feral side that could ruin his reputation, his image, and his career if any bystanders saw it.

After finding out about Feral!Jaskier, Geralt always tried to make sure that either himself or Yennefer were with Jaskier when he was out. It worked for the most part, except for the one time it didn't, and Geralt ended up having to call his brothers to do clean up duty.

268 notes · View notes

nocapesdahling · 3 years ago

Text

Logs on the Fire

Geralt of Rivia x GN! Reader

My Masterlist

Summary: You spend the winter at Kaer Morhen with Geralt.

Rating: M (17+)

Warnings/Tags: Established relationship; Soft! Geralt of Rivia; Implied sexual content; Fluff; Domesticity

A/N: I haven’t seen The Witcher season 2 yet, and can’t wait to watch it. This was inspired by experiencing Kaer Morhen in the games and enjoying exploring during that sequence in Wild Hunt. I also really loved the idea of wintering at Kaer Morhen with Geralt.

Word Count: 1.6k

When Geralt had mentioned joining him at Kaer Morhen for the winter, you had experienced a moment of hesitation before saying yes. This would be your first time joining him there and though you had met Vesemir, Coen, Lambert, and Eskel before and liked them all, this would be your first time spending the entire winter in a secluded area with them. You had also hesitated out of surprise, which you hadn’t even attempted to conceal from Geralt, knowing that he would be able to read it easily. You loved Geralt and you knew that he loved you, but witchers’ strongholds and safe places weren’t something they revealed to just anyone.

As though he could read your mind, and who knew maybe he could?, Geralt chuckled before pressing a kiss into your hair. “You’re not just anyone, and I don’t want to be without you for the winter. Come with me.”

You didn’t put up even a token protest, curious to see Kaer Morhen and smiling to yourself as you imagined spending the winter there with Geralt. “Alright, I’ll pack.”

“Make sure you pack warm enough clothes, love. It’s colder in the mountains.”

You smiled to yourself, even as you made sure to grab your heaviest cloak. “I’ll have you to keep me warm.”

Geralt’s “Hmm” sounded so affectionate that it almost made you laugh. It would be a good winter.

You lay on your stomach, reading on Geralt’s comfortable and warm bed and watching the snow fall thick and fast through the open doors to the balcony. You knew that Geralt would scold you if he saw the doors open, but with the fire the room was warm enough and it was such a beautiful view. How could he blame you?

Geralt had been out training that morning with Vesemir, so you’d had the room to yourself and you couldn’t help but think that you’d never experienced a winter so peaceful or pleasurable. You hadn’t realized that Geralt never felt safe outside Kaer Morhen, not truly. He was always on guard, watchful. When you’d settled in for the winter, you’d watched some of the care and worry disappear from his eyes and face. He’d always be watchful, but here when you were safe in the company of other witchers he let his guard down and he took his time. You’d spent entire days in bed, somehow learning even more things about each other and what you enjoyed, and you’d been right. He did keep you warm.

You watched the snow swirl in the wind outside, feeling yourself begin to doze before you heard footsteps on the stairs. You shook your head in fondness, knowing that the only reason Geralt made noise coming into his room was so he didn’t scare you. You marked your page in your book before jumping off the bed to close the balcony doors. You had gotten one closed and were working on the other when you heard a throat clear behind you.

“How many times have I told you not to open those? You’re going to catch your death.” Geralt’s voice was dry as he watched you stop pulling at the other door. “Then, where would I be?”

You turned and looked at him, taking his expression in. He was joking, but he also wasn’t. He didn’t want to be without you, which worked out because you didn’t want to be without him either. If you had any doubts before this winter, then all of them had faded away. Geralt had let you in in ways he hadn’t before, and you had somehow fallen deeper in love with him.

You sighed, making eye contact with him. “I won’t do it again.”

Geralt stepped closer and clasped your hand, “I know you won’t. Not when I’m not here to keep you warm. Why don’t we have a bath, and we’ll open them again?”

You smiled at him before throwing your arms around his neck, “Really?”

“Yes, really.” He pulled you closer into his body as he buried his nose in your hair, “Let me get the water.”

Geralt had reclined into the tub, which you’d both moved to face the open balcony doors, and you had squeezed in alongside him. Your head rested on his chest as you traced his multitude of scars and watched the snow.

You felt his intake of breath and then heard his deep voice from above you, “You know, I see why you like this now.” Here he paused and moved his hand from the side of the tub to run it up and down your back, “It’s… peaceful.”

You hummed and listened to his heartbeat, luxuriating in the warmth of the water and his body. You liked listening to his heartbeat. It in one small way proved that he wasn’t what everyone said he was. He may be a witcher, but he was also a man. And especially to you, never a “mutant”. You lost yourself in watching the snow swirl through the air outside, feeling your eyes begin to close.

“I’m glad you’re here. With me.” His voice was hesitant as it always was when admitting some kind of emotion.

You smiled against his chest before pushing yourself up as much as you could to look into his yellow eyes, “I’m glad I’m here too, Geralt. I love you.” You knew that he might not say it back, he rarely did, but you knew he loved you in return because he showed you every day. And he called you love any chance he could in private.

He grasped your chin and tilted your head up, kissing you deeply and pouring all the feelings he couldn’t express in words into the kiss. You squirmed on his lap, trying to pull yourself closer in the limited space of the tub and feeling him beginning to react against you.

Geralt pulled away from the kiss and stared at you for a moment before speaking, “Come on, love. As much as I want to make you come here in this tub, the water is going to get cold and the snow is going to get in. And most of all, there’s a bed right there.”

Given Geralt spent most of his time on the Path, when he had access to a bed he liked to use it. You couldn’t help the sigh at him stopping you there, even with the promise of the bed. Then again as you watched him get out of the tub, that wasn’t a bad view either. It never was. He tended to the fire, stoking it and making sure it was large enough to heat the room before walking to close the balcony doors. He stood in front of them, looking out at the snow for a moment, before closing the doors and turning back to you.

“Now, where were we?”

You watched Geralt as you lay next to him by the fire, his arms around you, lazy in your satisfaction. His long white hair had dried in a few knots that hadn’t been helped by your fingers and his face was relaxed. You leaned in and kissed each of his cheekbones then his lips before leaving the warmth of the blankets.

His eyes blinked open, “Where are you going? Come back.”

“I’ll be right back. I’m just getting something.” You went over to the mirror and grabbed your brush before returning to the blankets and the warmth of Geralt. He pulled you in close and wrapped his arms around you, which you enjoyed for a moment before trying to separate yourself. “Geralt. Geralt.”

You knew he was ignoring you. “Geralt, love.”

“Hmm?”

“I want to brush your hair.”

“My hair?” His voice sounded sleepy, but also surprised. You’d never thought of doing this for him before, but now that you had it was all you wanted to do.

“Yes, your hair. I want to take care of you.”

He shifted to holding you in his arms and pushed himself off the floor, ignoring your flailing arms as you attempted to grab his shoulders out of surprise. You knew he wouldn’t drop you, but most men wouldn’t have been able to pick you up like that. Then again, even if it sometimes slipped your mind, Geralt wasn’t most men.

He sat you down on the bed and stood for a moment, watching you scoot further onto the bed before patting the edge in front of you. With some hesitation, he settled himself and held himself tense even as he felt you move closer to him. You watched the fire cast shadows onto his face, his expression unreadable.

“I’m sorry I never offered to do this for you before.” You began to brush his hair slowly, taking your time. You hoped that he’d find this as relaxing as you found it. You loved his hair.

The two of you sat in silence for a long time, broken only by your humming of a song your mother used to sing to you as a child, before Geralt spoke.

“I don’t know if anyone’s done this for me before. Taken care of me the way you have. You know that I love you?”

“I do, Geralt. I do. And we take care of each other.”

“We do, love. We do.” He turned his head, so you could see his smile before turning back to face the fire.

You continued brushing his hair, smiling to yourself. This had been the best winter you’d ever had with the best man you’d ever known, and it wasn’t even over yet.

Likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

A/N: I have a few other winter and Christmas fics that I’m excited to post and finish writing as well.

I have a SFW Alphabet for Geralt on my Masterlist if you would like more Geralt.

2K notes · View notes

emma-ofnormandy · 2 years ago

Text

hey look, i managed to write a thing despite my muse going the way of my energy as well. a little yenralt thing because they’re on my mind and I am countering my reoccurring fears for them in season 3.

“What are you watching?”

The deep tenor of Geralt’s sent the sorceress’s heart leaping in her chest. Lost in her own whirling thoughts, Yennefer had not realized that he had awoken.

They had made camp off the main road a way, a clearing by a creek their haven. Ciri had promptly drifted off to sleep, the days of travel wearing on her and Geralt had not been far behind. It was not long before their snores had mingled with the bubbling of the water and Yennefer had been left to her own devices. As exhausted as she was, sleep had been elusive, and she had soon sought solitude in the sky above.

“The stars,” she answered vaguely, her violet gaze never pulling from the inky expanse.

She had a fondness for the burning lights of the sky, their presence a recurring comfort she had grown to rely on. Much of her life had been weighed down by abandonment, her trials and tribulations across the centuries taking those closest to her away, but the stars had remained, and she had come to find herself reliant on their steadfast appearance.

“Have you found the answers to our problems up there, by chance?”

It had been the first lighthearted thing he had uttered to her since they had set out from Kaer Morhen and a glimmer of something resembling hope trembled within her.

“I do not believe they hold the key to defeating malefic elven specters, political unrest, or vengeful kings,” she countered. If only their situation was simple enough that the answer could be found within the binding of an astrology book.

“That is too bad.”

Though there was a fair amount of space between them, she could feel the heat from his presence as he shifted beside her so his gaze, too, watched the stars.

She wondered what it was that he sought in them. Did they also bring him a sense of comradery or comfort like they did her or were they simply something he’d grown used to watching in the years spent traveling alone.

It was not long before a streak of light shot across the steady backdrop.

“They say a shooting star is good luck.”

His words had been spoken so softly that she had almost missed their utterance. “I cannot see how that could be as they are falling into obscurity.”

Though it was too dark to see, Yennefer knew he watched her, uneasy with her bleak response.

“Some survive.”

A bitter chuckle echoed in her chest; the likeness was not lost on her. Some did survive, a few for centuries, but their continued existence was not something many saw as a sign of good. She had heard men tote the end of civilization based on the recurrence of a falling star.

“You are right, some do survive. They survive long enough to hit the ground and destroy everything in their path.”

The sorceress did not dare chance a glance at Geralt as the morbid words hung between them. She knew the Witcher had no intention of insinuating such a bleak end to an event most found marveling, but after all that they had been through, their disastrous beginning to this misadventure, how could she look at such comparison any other way.

It was only when his fingers brushed against hers and she felt the weight and warmth of his hand over her own, that the tremble of hope she felt extended not only to their rekindling but also to the regretful end she feared.

#yenraltsource #yenralt #geralt x yennefer #the witcher #yennefer of vengerberg #geralt of rivia #the witcher netflix #geralt #yennefer #mine: writing #otp: important to someone

53 notes · View notes

annmarcus63 · 2 years ago

Text

Geralt wakes up with a heavy gasp, sitting on his heels trying to discern the surroundings. Nothing seems missing, the camp is as he left it, before he passed out, that is. Roach comes to nuzzled at his side, in worry for his master, who pets her with affection, the witcher pushes her aside with a comforting pat and stands up. Nothing hurts, not really, There's only the faint memory of burning pain, and something he can't quite place, resting inside. His head hurts, he's having flashes of something, a sorceress. She's threatening him, no, not him, Jaskier, but the bard is not here, he's at the next town, waiting for him as accorded last winter.

What do you want from him? If you're here you surely you're aware he's under my protection

Bastard played with my poor heart

It is dawn, the birds have not yet woken up. Geralt finds his way back to the camp and begins to pack his things, leaving the metal pot for last. He heats a cup of water to wash off the gritty feeling in his mouth. He suspects a curse has been placed upon him. Though it seems, not a strong one. It's possible the sorceress wasn't expecting to face a witcher. No, she did mention the White wolf as her objective. And then, Geralt realizes that he can remember her words, but separated from each other. Every word makes sense, but when he tries to put them together, he fails to give them mening.

Roach finishes her breakfast, which consists on the patch of tall grass she slept on the night before, and the rest of the apple net that Geralt bought for her two days ago. "Sorry, girl. Once we get there, I'll make sure someone takes care of you." He knows the mare is tired and hungry, both are.

"Sorry, girl. Once we get there, I'll make sure someone takes care of you." He knows the mare is tired and hungry, both of them are. Four days on the road without proper rest and a decent meal takes its toll sooner or later. He prepares her, making sure her gear and saddlebags are well tied but not too much, she gets grumpier when the pressure on her belly makes her slow. He hopes to find Jaskier unharmed, and if he’s unharmed, oh how he long to shout at him for his stupidity. Jaskier’s cock is a natural trouble bringer, maybe he should cut it off for him, that way he'll never have to save his bard from himself ever again.

He arrives by noon. On the outskirts of town, humble little houses of farmers and minor merchants. Children stop their plays to look at him with earnest curiosity, mothers and fathers look at him with distaste. Despite Jaskier's songs, he's still an unwanted guest, although, it's nice to be look with distaste rather than with hatred.

He can distinguish the tall roofs from the wealthy houses and temples downtown. Surely, Jaskier would be waiting for him in the fanciest inn, but Geralt wouldn't go there, yet. If someone can help him with the aching feeling in his chest, that someone must be living outside of town. He asks around and yes, a young lad with muddy hair points him to an old house near a wrecked pig farm.

He can smell the characteristic scent of herbs, poison and magical ingredients before knocking on the door. An attractive woman with gray hair and brown eyes regards him with indifference. "Do you require ingredients, witcher? I'm short on a few of them" she says, stepping aside to let him in. She closes the door with a tired sigh. The house is rather small and has too many objects hanging from the ceiling. He bumps his head with a couple of them before settle in a safe corner. Geralt wonders sometimes is better to ignore the curiosity. A cat died once for it. Yes, he laughs internally at his own joke.

He takes a pouch full of coin and throws it at a small table next to her. She turns instantly to grab it and count the coins inside.

"I'm listening" she says with a satisfied smile on her dry lips.

"A sorceress pay me a visit last night. She placed something in me"

"A curse?"

"You tell me" The woman approaches him with her arms raised, to place her hands on his chest.

Geralt tenses at the unwelcome touch. She talks under her breath so quickly that Geralt can't understand and then she jumps with a joyous screech, her eyes sparkling with mirth.

"This is gold. It's not a curse, witcher, is something far more disturbing"

"What is it?" Says Geralt, angry at her blissful way.

"It's not a curse. You surely must know that magic doesn't work the same on your kind" Geralt just glares.

"It is a simple spell. Neither harmful nor durable. A love spell to be precise"

"A what?" Fuck.

You'll stay away from him

Alright, alright. I'll go and leave him alone. After all, I already found his someone else

"A vengeful love spell particularly directed at someone close to you, of course." The sorceress explains. His mind stops when a nasty hunch settles in his guts.

Jaskier.

Unrequited love.

Vengeance.

Well, fuck.

"Can you get rid of it?"

"I'm afraid not. It’s a too powerful spell for an old rag like me. But there's is no need to worry. Based on your expression I imagine you know for whom the spell was placed" He'll kill Jaskier. No. He'll punch him so hard that his balls will fall off.

"You'll have to avoid this person until the spell worns out. Two weeks at least" Great, Jaskier is just around the corner. If he's lucky, he could slide through town without meeting him. He'll send him a message with some excuse.

But there is something missing "No, you are mistaken, I don't feel love for that person." He cares for the bard, sometimes a bit too much, but well, the fool worth the trouble. Most of the time. But it wasn't love, is it?

"It's a spell for you, but a curse to the other person." Apparently, his internal fight is visible "You'll love this person, knowing you're under a spell but you won’t be able to tell. The spell will disappear, and with it your love for them."

I already found his someone else

"A broken heart" Geralt whispers with a sinking feeling. Is Jaskier in love with him? No, he isn't. Geralt would have known. He can identify the gooey scent that accompanies love in all people. Like orange peles and guava left under the sun. Jaskier never smell like that around him.

"You'll only need to stay away from this person. Now, if you don't require anything else from me..." Geralt grunts while closing his eyes, in a futile attempt to ease the ripping feeling on his chest. It's unfair, so fucking unfair, not for him but for Jaskier. If he's really in love with the witcher then this will destroy him, Geralt will destroy him. No, Geralt would not allow it. He'll not hurt his friend.

He walks to the door desperate to leave the place, to leave the city. "Are you sure that four months will suffice?" the woman nods with a reassuring smile.

"Close the door behind you, please" And Geralt does.

The unpleasant smell of pigs and shit reaches his nose in a hot wave. Roach is tied to a small post in which he left her, she'll be really huffy when Geralt takes her back to the road. Damn, he promised her food and rest, she's tired, even when Geralt isn't anymore. Maybe he could ask the farmers to sell him a net of hay, but he's out of money. He was counting on the bard's money to rent a stall at the stable inn for Roach. What is he going to do? He sees the muddy lad from before carrying two buckets of water. He would send a message with him to Jaskier asking for money. No. Impossible. The idiot would come down running to meet him.

He would have to take a nearby contract in exchange for Roach being fed. Yes. It seems that's the better option, but first, to send the message to Jaskier. He searches for the famous muddy boy, when the most terrifying sound reaches his ears.

"Geralt? is that you, you gorgeous bastard?"Jaskier's voice

#geraskier #geralt x jaskier #geralt of rivia #the witcher #geralt #jaskier x geralt #based on a old fic idea i had but can't find #lovespell #Geralt it's a good friend #a bit softer than WitcherNetflix #but still somber and taciturn #one of those ships where one guys is the moon and the other the sun #and the moon shines bright like a diamond nearing the sun

65 notes · View notes

pherryt · 2 years ago

Text

And now for some snippets!

Full disclaimer - snippets are not constrained to just the new sentences I made, as some of the new sentences were woven into pre-existing text, I also wrote a ton more today for one of these, and also because they wouldn’t be as fun without the rest of the scene

Inkpot Gods:

"Nami, my sweet, I can't wear this."

Everyone froze at Sanji's words, turning to look at him in shock. Had he just said no… to Nami?

Nami blinked at him in clear astonishment. "Yes, you will," she said slowly and firmly. Then she obviously thought better of the words and flashed him a bright smile and said sweetly, "You'll do this for me, won't you, Sanji?"

Zoro rolled his eyes, because everyone knew Sanji would do whatever Nami wanted in a second, and Nami was never not going to take advantage of that. Whatever momentary hesitation had made Sanji say no, it wouldn’t last.

"Of course, Nami," Sanji said, because, as expected, he was unable to really say no if one of his precious ladies asked him to do something, but his voice was devoid of his usual energy and lacking of all fawning. His face had a sickly smile on it, one Zoro had never seen before. Sanji lifted the full mask to his face and Zoro was even more shocked to notice a tremble in his hands and a blank – no, a haunted – look in Sanji's eyes.

One minute the mask was about to touch Sanji's face, the next Sanji's hand must have spasmed or something, because the ceramic mask shattered in his hands, shards falling to the deck with a light clinking sound. A look of guilty relief flashed over his face before it was wiped away.

Sleeping Witchers:

“There are more,” Geralt said. “There’s five more witchers besides him in this town. Your spell only registered one.”

She startled, biting out a curse. “Then it seems I need to examine them all, find out what has caused such a large discrepancy. Once could be an exception, but five…” she shook her head. “There has to be a reason my spell didn’t pick them all up.”

“I have an idea about that, actually,” Jaskier said, surprising everyone.

“Oh? Well, don’t keep it to yourself, bard. Out with it,” Yennefer said with an imperious wave of her hand.

Jaskier stuck his tongue out at the mage, ever cheeky. Their relationship was a strange one, and Lambert didn’t get how Jaskier could even tolerate her presence in the keep or, more importantly, around Geralt. Not given the history there.

“I’m no mage, of course, but your spell was built after studying one that had failed.”

Her eyes widened in realization, but the rest of them weren’t far behind her in understanding what he meant. “Incomplete data set, skewing the results. Of course.”

“You know what this means, right?” Jaskier leaned forward eagerly, elbows on the table as he looked around at all of them earnestly. “It means there could be many, many more Witchers out there that we didn’t even know about.”

Lost Boys:

Grunting, Zoro said, “Your point?”

“Well, we’ve got four choices ahead of us,” Ryoga said, gesturing at the tree tunnels. “And since we already know none of them can take us home, any choice we make doesn’t really matter. If they don't matter, then none of them can be wrong. So, if we know where we're not going, and don't care what's on the other side, does it count as being lost?"

“So, no wrong choices, huh?” Zoro mused. "Alright, let's go this way." They turned down one of the tunnels made of gigantic roots. It was quite dark, what with the gloomy rain obscuring what little light would have otherwise filtered through the gaps. If nothing else, it was pretty sheltered under here from the rain. Still, Zoro was hungry. He could survive a little rain if there was a chance at food someplace close. They emerged from the other end of the tunnel and Zoro barely dodged the whistle of a blade. He fell into Ryoga and the two of them sprawled in the wet grass, Ryoga’s umbrella skittering away from him. But Zoro had no time for that, as he rolled to his feet to face the enemy. A… skeleton? A massive skeleton welding sword and shield. The blade that had missed Zoro and Ryoga by a hair was lodged in the tree root above their heads, giving them a chance to regroup. A quick glance around as he kicked the umbrella towards the kid showed Zoro that this wasn't the only skeleton here. It looked a right proper horde, actually, and they were all slowly turning to face them. Luckily for Ryoga, the rain had stopped and he didn't stay on the ground long enough from the wet to saturate his clothes. Good, Zoro thought. At least there's one blessing to be had. “No wrong choices, huh?" “Hey, you're the one who said that!" Ryoga protested angrily, retrieving his umbrella. He gave it a shake then quickly put it away as he, too, eyed their opponents.

Wip Poll Results & Follow Up

I wanna thank everyone who voted in my silly fun!

There were 33 votes (discounting the 1 I put in just so I could track the poll while it was open, so it's actually 32) and what wound up being a 3 way tie!

So first, here's the breakdown!

# 1 at 5 votes each:

Lost Boys (One Piece/Ranma 1/2 Crossover fic)

Sleeping Witchers (Lambert/Aiden centric Sequel to Forgotten Song)

Zosan Inkpot Gods (One Piece)

# 2 at 3 votes each:

Old Guard/Supernatural Crossover

I Don't Care (One Piece rated E fic)

# 3 at 2 votes each:

Her Boys (Marvel - Natasha centric prequel to Broken Angels)

Second Chances Series (Witcher)

Skif/Wintermoon rewrite (Velgarth or Valdemar)

# 4 with, you guessed it, 1 vote:

Witcher/One Piece Crossover

So I guess that means I'm writing 15 new lines total - 5 for each of the top tier fics. Also, i had 3 of my crossover projects in this list and 2 of them got a fair amount of votes (and one even wound up tied for first!), so that pleased me greatly. I always worry folks won't want to see those, but they're too much fun NOT to write.

Anyway, the game didn't say WHAT to do with those sentences after I wrote them, So here's what I'm gonna do - i was tagged by @i-less-than-three-you for a WIP game that I didn't wind up doing because it wasn't Wednesday by the time I could access anything to respond.

If you want to know anything more about one of the above wips or to see a snippet from a particular one, send me an ask (but specify which content you want) :D

#wip #poll results #wip snippets #inkpot gods #zosan inkpot gods #sleeping witchers #lost boys #one piece #witcher #ranma 1/2

6 notes · View notes

ladyclwriter · 3 years ago

Text

Exile

Geralt x gn!reader x Jaskier

Summary: Geralt, your ex, didn't expected that Jaksier's new fiance was, well, you.

Angst, spicy mentionings, white wolf toxic behavior, Jaskier call's reader "daisy" ( the flower

Not even slightly close to any canon chronological line

He could recall perfectly those days. The sun always seemed to shine brighter when you were by his side, so those memories were all golden to him. Even the blue-ish white snow looked warmer every time he pictured you struggling to take your boots out of it. His smile was always genuine when he lifted you up to Roach, cursing about you could do it alone. Indeed, with you, his smile was always genuine.

Geralt didn't knew if his bard friend actually gave any fake smiles on his life, but he could see you had the very same effect on him. With one puffy arm around your waist, Jaskier laughed in pure joy, proudly showing off his partner while you didn't really looked any shy by his side.

The white wolf froze instantly as soon as you both entered the room. He died a little bit inside — if there was anything alive on him — once the realization hit, holding him where he was, standing far away near a huge marble cornerstone.

Minutes, maybe an hour after you arrived, he noticed you weren't as happy as he thought you were. Yes, you were still as shiny as back in the travelling times. Your smile was as pure as his friend's, and you two seemed like the perfect pair of two little happy canaries. Except for some forced smiles you cracked. Eyes drifting away from time to time, shifting weight from one feet to another. He knew those signs now. You were uncomfortable, maybe bored. And you probably didn't wanted to be there. Still, you laughed at your boyfriend's jokes, and even brought some up.

Geralt felt, for the first time, the weight of his body battling with gravity. He couldn't move his feets, couldn't take his eyes way either. And whatever those feelings inside him were, he was barely dealing with them.

Some bard started singing in another side of the room, Jaskier screaming something about being offended. It took 5 minutes to a duet start, and only then, the Witcher saw your eyes daze towards his. You were laughing at your boyfriend, but without any specific reason, your gaze got pulled into that direction. The whole world seemed to darken and freeze.

You would spot that silvery hair anywhere. The sensation of golden eyes fixated on you, sending shivers down your spine would always be familiar — maybe that's why you've been feeling so uncomfortable and terribly fighting to look at the direction it came. It was an accident. Something inside you guessed it, you knew he was there, even if you fought to believe and accept it. You didn't wanted to look at that specific point, but laughing and swinging with Jaskier, you lost the control of your curious eyes. And you regretted instantly.

As inconsequential and childish your boyfriend could be, he always knew when something was off. He did felt it before, but now he got it straight. “My daisy? Are you alright?”

You couldn't answer. Not when you suddenly forgot how to breath, starting to gasp for air, tearing up with a wolf staring directly into your soul with a grey frown. So you started walking, as fast as you could without calling attention, towards any sight of exit. Opening double doors, you found yourself in a balcony, desperately taking in the winds of the night.

“For fuck's sake, daisy!” he appeared on his puffy clothes, closing the doors behind him, rushing towards your crying self holding at the stone fence. “Are you alright? Anything happened? Did I did something wrong?”

Worried hands took your face gently, turning you to him, so he could search up the answer of his many questions. “Can you talk to me? Can you even breathe? Come on, my daisy, was it Barbara? I know she's a bitch. Was it that bitch?”

“Jaskier!” you exclaimed, silencing him instantly. But he succeeded at stealing a little smile from your lips. “Just... Just give me a moment”.

He held you still, blue eyes filled with worry, eagerly waiting to get the reassurance that no, he didn't did anything wrong. Anyways, some seconds later he walked away, not taking his gaze off you; hanging head with hands on the stone, trying to recover yourself. It took you long minutes to look up, thanking silently the night serene for embracing you. Then you smiled as you realized your favorite bard was there, looking at you all the time, with a puppyish face.

“Feeling better, daisy?” he asked sweetly. You agreed, back of hands wiping face. He didn't knew if he should break the distance, but give you your space seemed better anyways. “We can go home if you feel... Sick”

You felt like it, yes. But his quiet understanding made you own an answer to his questions. So, avoiding blue eyes, you mumbled. “I saw my ex”.

He paused. Blinking, processing and recalling all those stories you told him at your most vulnerable moments. “That one who left you alone in the woods?” shook your head yes. “Oh no. I'm so sorry, my daisy. I would never guess he was from royalty”

“He isn't. But it's not your fault, so don't be sorry” taking a deep breath, you approached his red-cotton dressed body. Arms around him, head under his chin, you inhaled his perfume.

Jaskier was safety. You never, never had that fear of waking up and not seeing him by your side. You never hesitated before saying something, and mostly, you didn't even had to say anything. You were always shining with him, but he never required you to. And he was the one there with you. “I didn't wanted to ruin your party, dandelion”

“You know I'd trade all these peacocks for only two minutes with you”

“No need. You have me forever” meeting gazes, the smiles were as reciprocal as all your feelings. And just when you delicately approached faces to kiss each other, the doors got open.

Shutting your eyes closed, your grip on Jaskier tightened as you desperately kept taking his scent. You knew who was there.

“Gods!” your boyfriend almost screamed. “Geralt of Rivia himself! And in fancy boots! But, um, as much as I love meeting old friends, I'm busy right now”

But you tilted your head up, frowned at him with a hint of anger and intrigue. “Friend? He is your friend?”

“A very old one, indeed. What's the matter?” his smile was so pure and innocent that you could barely believe your ears. Then, just because it was necessary, you looked towards the intruder. He looked as shocked as you were. “What? Why do you two look like if you discovered the queen's most nasty secret? Is there something on my- oh.”

The three of you were frozen, taking in whatever the destiny arranged. “Oh. Oh fuck. Oh fucking fuck” he put one of his hands on his forehead, the other one on his waist, taking some steps back.

“What the fuck is happening here?” you asked, even if no one seemed to have the answer.

“This must be witchcraft” you trembled as you heard his low, husky voice. Now, his eyes avoided you.

“No fucking way. You two will tell me what the damn plan you made!”

“I didn't see Geralt in ages!” the bard physicalized the time with a gesture of hands. “I didn't even knew he was still alive. I didn't knew you two knew each other!”

“So do I!” you shot back, a little louder than you wanted. Now you were with a hand on the forehead, turning your back to the two. “For god's sake”

The three of you stood there, no one daring to say anything or move a finger. Indeed, the only one who didn't looked conflicted and full of things to say was the bard. So, he cleaned his throat, crossing arms with the cold breeze.

“Geralt, you... What did you wanted here?” cutting the chat, the blue eyed asked, very low and cautious. He was conflicted, seeing his love and his only one friend there. Even more when he knew your side of the story, and knew the Witcher way much more than he wanted to.

Gold and blue sky met, in a silent short conversation. “I wanted to talk to your partner”.

“We have nothing to talk” you stated instantly.

“Look, I know what I did, but I can explain-”

“No need to. Now get back inside there”, you said it like an order, without even hesitate.

Geralt looked at his friend, looking for any help. Jaskier loved you enough to know he had to interfere. You would never be able to move on from your past relationship without this talk. So, he walked until he was in front of you, and touched your arms, lightly rubbing his thumb. “My daisy. We both know this is for the best. Please, give him a chance”

“Why? Why should I? The facts are facts, and I'm with you now. There is nothing to discuss” you insisted, but Jaskier didn't looked like he would give up.

One hand on your face, he looked into your eyes before kissing you. Gently, slowly caressing your lips with his, making your body warm even with the cold of the night. “Yes, you are with me. Just talk to him, and we're going home. Alright?”

Home. How you fucking wanted to be home. Knowing he was stubborn, and always did anything he said he would, you turned around to face your past. Crossing arms and leaning your body against your boyfriend's, you raise an eyebrow. Geralt took a minute to watch his old friend wrapping arms around his old lover's body, breaking his very own heart a little more.

“A monster was following us. Something you could've never faced, I could've never killed with you by my side” started after cleaning his throat, now staring at you, and only you. “Indeed, I had to battle with things that would use you as a weakness. We would not stay together further”

“So you leave me in the middle of the night, in that creepy fucking forest, full of wolves and moving trees?” there was no way you could pretend you weren't angry.

“I said, a monster was following us. I got away before he attacked, and my plan was to come back after defeating him” turns out I didn't, he wanted to say. “But the battle took me away from the camp, and there were more of them. I finished after dawn, and realized I went too far”.

You pressed yourself more against Jaskier, who held you stronger, noticing your anguish growing. He gave kisses on your cheek, neck, and put his nose in your scented hair.

“You would be gone before I came back. So I took it as a... Fate sign. And moved on”

“Just like that? Like if I was nothing?” oh, how it enraged you. Fighting tears, your voice got as high as it could without becoming a shouting. “Like if we were nothing?!”

“Don't you say things like that. You know damn well what you meant to me” he took one step closer, pointing a finger towards you. You too stepped out, but Jaskier kept you close.

“Guess it wasn't that much, since you just fucking left!” you screamed the last words, involuntary tears in your eyes. “I almost died, Geralt. Those fucking wolves and branches almost took my fucking life!”

“Do you really think I do not feel fucking miserable everyday? Don't you think I feel guilty for loosing you? No, you could never know how I asked for death every night I spent without knowing if you were safe” spitting words, you could see golden eyes shine with tears.

“You could never know how I wanted to kill you for believing that you left me to die”, you whispered.

You fainted, covered by bites and deep cuts and blood. Woke up at an stranger's house, a family of merchants who took care of you. Of course, you had to pay back by working for them for a while. And it was at one of these jobs that you met Jaskier. He was singing “burn, butcher burn”, and even after beating up some men that owed the family you worked for, you couldn't stop laughing at him.

Now you weren't. The pieces clicked together in your head, and you stared at your boyfriend. So the song was about Geralt.

“As much as I want to clear things between us, I don't think none of us wants to fight now” none of us are ready to get rid of our bad bloods, for they are the only thing keeping us apart. “I came here to ask for your forgiveness. I know you are with Jaskier, and I don't plan to be friends or anything. Just, please, forgive me, so I can try to move on like you did”

“You won't stick too long to be friends, anyways” you shot, glancing back at him. “Oh, and I know how much of a shitty friend you are. You and your sharp tongue and cold heart”

“You never complained of my sharp tongue those times” it came out in a growl. He only realized what he said when both you and Jaskier looked deeply offended, his eyes falling to the ground. “I'm sorry”

You crossed arms, feeling one of your boyfriend's hands caressing it. Breathing deeply, you started pondering. Indeed, he had a sharp tongue in all possible meanings. You would never dare to try to be friends, for sometimes, in the middle of the night, you missed him. He felt the same.

With him, you felt at the top of the world. Living dangerously with adventures and heavenly tent fucks, he was your very own crown and a home that never settled down. Now, you were both your own exiles. At least, you had the sweetest man alive by your side. And Jaskier did had a sharp tongue too.

“I know it doesn't bring any good to me to hold a grudge against you, so you can have my forgiveness” you said lowly, a big and bright smile growing on your boyfriend's face, who kissed your cheek, happily.

“It's the right thing, darling. I'm happy for you” indeed, every single time you talked about your ex, he wouldn't stop buzzing about the forgiveness part.

Taking Jaskier's hand, standing by his side, your face was like stone, certain of every word. “Now go, Geralt. I don't want to see you ever again” even if something inside you did wanted to.

“I'll go. I'm leaving by the side door as soon as the musicians start. But” oh no. “Can we talk alone? Thirty seconds”.

“No” you answered instantly. Then you felt Jaskier's hand slipping away from yours, for whatever reason popped on his head.

Despair made your body shiver inside, blood heating no longer just with hate, scared of anything that would come from those “30 seconds” that Jaskier strictly mumbled in a possessive way, before closing the doors.

You froze, but Geralt walked towards you with the most intense glaze ever. He always looked like a predator whenever you turned him on back at those times, and it would always drive you crazy. But now, years after that burning passion, you did felt like he was a wolf. Golden eyes piercing, burning every trace of you. But he didn't stopped too close.

“Daisy. He calls you daisy” whispered on his very own growl way. “I called you love”

“So what?” your voice barely came out, a whisper as you cursed yourself silently for wanting to feel his hands in your body, fighting the urge to touch him. One step closer, he lowered himself, your faces inches away.

You closed your eyes, not because you expected one of your hot, messy kisses. But for you couldn't look at him that close. Jaskier is outside. He trusts me.

“I'm his daisy, and he's my dandelion”

Geralt took a deep breath, warming your ear as he bent down even more. Not daring to move one finger — he knew he didn't had to —, he breathed again, showing your urge for him was reciprocal. At that little second, all your time together came back to your mind. The screams, whether for anger or pleasure. The crying and laughing. The back-to-back battles, the stargazing. Every single moment came back at you, turning your whole self to crumbs. He knew it, for he felt like that too.

“And you are my love” for fuck's sake, you didn't knew his voice could get that low. You shivered, trembled visibly, frowning to control your emotions.

You almost fell to your knees. It was hard to come back to the crowd, having to kiss Jaskier wildly to not cry on his arms, to not regret everything you did all your life, to keep focusing on your healthy and happy relationship. He knew what he was doing, and you both knew it was truth, when he said, before walking away:

“And I will, forever, be your love too”.

I feel like this could've been so much better worked and written. Please tell me your thoughts, my insecurities are eating this whole thing 😁

Anyways, thank you so much for reading. Reblogs are appreciated 💕💕💕 love ya

Taglist: @spideysimpossiblegirl @sunndust

#the witcher #the Witcher fanfic #the witcher netflix #geralt of rivia imagine #geralt imagine #geralt x reader #jaskier imagine #jaskier x reader #love triangle #exile #taylor swift #the witcher imagine

127 notes · View notes