#modern!geralt of Rivia

[cardierreh15]

Did I tag you in the hopes that I can maybe get a little snippet for Knight in Shining Leather? Absolutely!! 😍 Pretty please?

And your other WIPs sound amazing, too!

👀 If that’s what pookie wants that’s what pookie gets! Tea is under the cut 😌

[thedemonofcat]

“What do you do?” Geralt asks, trying to be conversational with the beautiful man he had somehow gone home with last night.

Julian looks at him incredulously over breakfast for what feels like forever and then says, “…I’m a singer.”

“Oh, local?” Maybe Geralt could go to a show.

“No, in town for a gig. Leaving first thing tomorrow.”

“Oh.”

That was disappointing. He knew it was only one night of fun, but he had hoped to try his luck and ask Julian out.

“If you want, I could give you my number. We could text?”

“I’d like that.”

———

Jaskier has no idea how he stumbled upon the one man on the continent who doesn’t know he’s a popstar, but he’s rolling with it.

At some point, Jaskier had to know this was coming. He and Geralt had been watching TV when one of his own performances appeared on the screen.

“Hey, Julian,” Geralt said, his tone laced with curiosity.

Jaskier braced himself. It was only a matter of time before Geralt put the pieces together.

“That musician—Jaskier—kind of looks like you,” Geralt remarked.

[wehavekookies]

First of all, how are these five years old already.

[fangirleaconmigo]

Modern AU where Jaskier posts all of his song to youtube. He doesn't have very many hits so he doesn't think much about taking them all off one day when he is rethinking his social media strategy.

He is shocked when his handsome but introverted neighbor (Geralt is his name) calls him at one am panicking. (The man has never even used his number. Jaskier came up with some painfully transparent excuse about a neighborhood watch just to get him to take it.)

Geralt's daughter Ciri has woken up with a nightmare and apparently the only thing that gets her to sleep is Jaskier's singing. However, Geralt is panicking because can't find his videos. He rambles about not being able to find them anywhere and he feels stupid, bad at social media, he shouldn't have called, etc.

Jaskier is intrigued. "I didn't even know you knew about my music."

"You mention it every time I see you in the hall."

"Oh, you are unbearably blunt. Touche, touche. In my defense, I didn't know you listened when I rambled on."

"I do." His neighbor sounds affronted.

"Alright then."

"Is that a yes? You'll sing to her?"

Jaskier isn't done questioning him. "You really play her my music?"

*Pause*

"She hears your music."

"How."

"I might listen to your music at night. To wind down. She just overhears. She's gotten used to it."

Jaskier feels quite smug. "Well alright. Anything for my fans. Put the little one on."

Geralt rolls his eyes but smiles and puts the phone on speaker. Ciri shrieks with delight to hear Jaskier's voice. After she falls asleep, Geralt sneaks out of her room whispering a thank you.

"You know," Jaskier says playfully. "My voice is better live. I could come over sometimes to sing you lullabies in person."

Geralt is glad you can't hear a blush over the phone.

"Yes. Ok."

"Yes?" Jaskier crows.

"Yes. I'd like that."

--fin

Inspiration

[humblebardd]

Jaskier: you know why I called you in here, right?

Geralt: yeah, because I accidentally sent you a dick pic—

Jaskier: *stops pouring two glasses of wine* accidentally??

[artistsfuneral]

modern au Lambert who only meets Vesemir after reaching his mid-twenties. Lambert who grew up with his abusive father. Lambert who fights tooth and nail to get custody of his two younger siblings. Lambert who is at his wits ends because everything seems to be falling apart right now and he has no idea how to ask others for help - doesn't even consider that there's someone he could ask.

Geralt and Eskel, who finally take Lambert by the hand and pull him and his siblings into their little, weird, but tight-knit family. Vesemir who takes one look at Lambert and goes "yep, that wet raccoon is mine now"

[its-bread-bitch]

Modern Geraskier would be Jaskier in the sluttiest, most colorful fashion forward outfits imaginable, serving cunt 24/7 and Geralt in one hoodie/t shirt that’s falling apart and only gets washed once a month. Geralt is not serving cunt. He’s giving 1AM Walmart depression run with ‘tism rizz that only and VIOLENTLY affects Jaskier.

[fandom-junk-drawer]

Modern Day Geralt and Jaskier being two halves of the same idiot

[wannabe-goth-babe]

We are missing a glorious Geraskier opportunity here: Renfaire AU. Geralt and the wolves are knights who joust and Jaskier works as a bard. Jaskier walks up and starts flirting between jousts. Geralt gets distracted by the pretty face in the audience when Jaskier is on his break and gets decimated by Lambert.

I want this so bad.

[hannibard]

Hear me out: CEO Yennefer x employee turned sugar baby Jaskier

(Or it could be geraskefer. Rich power couple Yennefer and Geralt x struggling musician Jaskier)

[dapandapod]

Particular with nicknames

Why hello there! This was written last september (2023) and has since been sitting in my draft, making me rewatch streams because no pathetic reasons at all i swear. Anyway, here is Jaskier having a Moment TM when Geralt uses a very specific nickname. Thank you @ahh-fxck for helping me beta read <3 much appreciated! Please enjoy streamer!Geralt and Pathetic!Jaskier! <3 On Ao3 here

For all the love Jaskier has of words and language, he is strangely picky with nicknames.

It’s not that he dislikes them, he is just strangely neutral. Alright, that’s not true.

His famously ill-advised and stormy relationship with Valdo came to mind. Jaskier had fallen promptly out of love with him when he was called ‘Snugglebutt’ in front of all of their friends. They were together for another month or so past that, because Jaskier thought himself cruel and wanted it to work.

Well, it did not.

Nowadays he shares a flat with his long time best friend Geralt, one of the few constants in his life and the one who just might own about two thirds of his heart.

It’s not a big flat, but they have a room each, a small kitchen, and a shared living room. That is also where Geralt has his small streaming corner set up, back against the wall and facing the room.

Easier that way to keep it clean if he streams with the camera on, no accidental flashing unsuspecting viewers that way. Something learned by trial and error, as Jaskier tends to run warm and just forgo pants. And shirts. And socks.

They also share their flat with a terrible little cat named Roach, who has never quite warmed up to Jaskier. Took to Geralt the instant she saw him, however, and the two are inseparable whenever Geralt is home.

All of this in itself is not an issue. Oh no, all of this is more than fine.

Watching Geralt be sweet with the terrible little furball makes Jaskier’s heart ache pleasantly, listen to him coo about her fur being so shiny and smooth, what a good girl she is, wow look at that yawn!

No, the problem came up the first time as Geralt was lazily watching TV on the couch, back to their little kitchen where Jaskier had just served her royal highness some very expensive cat food.

Roach does as she always does when Jaskier is involved, and simply walks out. It’s routine by now, and the food is usually gone by morning. It’s more about Jaskier knowing his place at the bottom of the list than not liking the food.

But as she returns to the living room with Jaskier trailing after, considering plopping down on the couch too instead of working on his doctoral thesis, Jaskier finds himself fundamentally changed.

“Hi baby.” Geralt says, voice all sweet and dark and gravelly, and fuck.

It is very much aimed at Roach, who is being a cutie, begging pets from under the table. But Jaskier’s insides do a kickflip, his brain short circuits.

Flushing deeply, Jaskier can’t control the little HRK sound escaping his throat.

He is frozen in his tracks, tongue tied and feeling absolutely pathetic. Geralt turns around to look at him with a questioning frown.

“You ok there?” he asks, Roach climbing the couch and up to the backrest, demanding attention.

“Just peachy,” Jaskier squeaks out, and then flees to his room.

Holy fucking shit and mother of turds.

Baby?? Of all the nicknames in the entire world, that is the one Jaskier is going to have a meltdown about?

Just, the lazy way Geralt said it, Jaskier feels like an old maid, clutching his pearls.

It’s fine. He will be fine.

It was meant for Roach, of course, it’s fine.

It is not fine.

Geralt is streaming, talking with some other players. He is not a big name, but he does have a following, and sometimes gets invited to other streams if it's a multiplayer game.

Jaskier is moving around the living room, untangling the nest that their couch has become recently, blankets and hoodies and socks thrown everywhere. He is also holding a banana, somewhat forgotten in his new mission to make the couch sittable.

Part of his distraction comes from listening to Geralt talking, there is a lilt to his voice when he is on stream. It is unclear if Geralt is aware of doing it, but Jaskier can listen to it forever.

While in the process of moving one blanket over to the footrest, Geralt laughs at something said in his headphones.

“Oh baby, I didn’t know you cared!”

Jaskier drops the banana.

Feeling like a deer caught in headlight, Jaskier is unable to do anything but staring, feeling heat climbing his neck, up to his cheek.

Then Geralt’s eyes meet his over his screen, his face is neutral but his eyes are knowing.

Fuck fuck fuck he is in so much trouble.

Maybe it’s fine to have that many blankets. Perfect for hiding, perfect for pretending the way Geralt says ‘Baby’ doesn’t go on loop in his head, and will be for days.

Jaskier is in a constant state of fear.

Ever since the Stream Incident, as he has come to call it, there is this new tension whenever they are in a room together. Where Geralt will look at him consideringly, where Jaskier will pretend everything is as per usual.

He has gotten better at not freezing, but a thrill runs through him every time Geralt uses That Word, making very unsubtle eye contact as he does.

How is his poor heart to cope?

Sometimes, late at night, when Jaskier is unable to sleep and he knows Geralt is still streaming, Jaskier joins in to watch. It is uncertain if Geralt has figured out it’s him or not yet, he has sneakily named his account to Bardelicious, and doesn’t usually join the chat.

Tonight, Geralt is playing a fantasy game. A monster hunter and his bard, fittingly enough, and he makes light commentary about things in the game.

Until there is a scene where the bard does something noble, stupid and somewhat foolish.

“Oh, baby.” Geralt says sadly, shaking his head.

The chat goes absolutely wild, more than one asking him to say it again, to call them baby, which is a little weird and also absolutely fucking valid.

“Why are people so weird about that?” Geralt says, chuckling. The replies roll in, and his eyebrows climb up his forehead. Jaskier’s heart is beating hard, because this could either be really good or really bad.

“Sexy? Doubt that.”

Jaskier regrets it as soon as he presses send, and by then it’s too late.

‘It is when you say it.’ was all he wrote, but it was the first thing he had written in there. Geralt doesn’t know it’s him.

It should be fine. He is fine.

Some more responses follow, but Geralt is strangely quiet. The game scene plays out, the monster hunter and his bard having a nice bonding moment.

It’s soothing to watch, to hear Geralt’s commentary every now and then. He falls asleep with his phone in his hand, earbuds still in.

The next morning, Jaskier is woken up by the scent of coffee and a hungry Roach yowling in the kitchen. She only does that when Geralt is around, so it is safe to assume he is up.

Which is a little odd, because Jaskier fell asleep before the stream was over, and he feels like death warmed over.

His jaw cracks when he yawns. Lured by the scent of coffee, he manages to get out of bed.

Geralt is indeed up and about, Roach winding affectionately around his legs as he prepares her breakfast.

“Morn,” Jaskier rasps, scratching his stomach and giving another yawn.

Roach doesn’t even look at him, fully focused on her man and her meal. The bowl is placed on the floor for the queen herself, and like the gremlin she is, she eats it without a fuss. Little bastard.

Jaskier joins Geralt at the bench, seeking coffee like a flower seeks the sun. He can stop when he wants, coffee is not an addiction, it is a way of life.

“Were you up all night? Hand me a cup, will you?” he says, reaching for the fruit bowl that Geralt for some reason keeps religiously stocked.

In reply, he gets one of the typical hums, which could mean absolutely anything, and two cups. Jaskier pours for them both and Geralt adds the usual unholy amount of sugar to Jaskier’s, which makes him smile.

“Any plans for today? I really should be working on my thesis, but I can’t be arsed.”Jaskier leans back against the counter and sips at his coffee, which is still a little too hot.

Geralt is watching him over the rim of his mug, sipping on the steaming coffee.

“I have a thing I thought to try,” he says, voice gravelly, eyes locked on him.

It makes Jaskier’s stomach flip, and he takes a too big sip, the drink burning his tongue and all the way down his throat unpleasantly.

“Yeah? Anything you want help with?” Jaskier asks nervously, realizing he is still holding his chosen fruit without eating it, so he puts it down on the counter.

The corner of Geralt’s mouth ticks up into a crooked smile, and yeah, Jaskier is in danger. It is way too early in the morning for Geralt to be such an absolute heart throb.

“If you are willing.” Geralt says, and Jaskier finds himself nodding despite himself. If Geralt asks him if he is willing, the answer will probably always be yes.

“Sure! Uh… What is it?”

Geralt takes a step towards him and puts his cup on the side of the counter. Then he grabs Jaskier’s cup out of his hand and puts that down too.

His heart is beating so hard he can feel it in his throat, his hands now clammy and gripping the counter behind him.

Geralt inches forward, the space between them shrinking fast. He stops just shy of touching him, and tilts his head, white hair falling over his shoulder.

“So I was streaming last night,” Geralt begins, and oh dear, oh no. “And there were some interesting comments that I couldn’t get out of my head.”

“Uh… Oh?” Jaskier says dumbly, and Geralt huffs a soft laugh, breath hitting Jaskier’s face.

“You're particular with nicknames, right? I mean, you are still mad at Valdo.”

With growing worry, Jaskier is starting to realize where this is going.

“He called me snugglebutt. In front of people. That’s embarrassing!” Jaskier defends himself faintly. Geralt leans in an inch more, leaning against the countertop and crowding Jaskier against it. Fuck.

“But that’s not what you think when I say ‘Baby’, is it?” Geralt’s eyes are trained on him, and smiles when he notices Jaskier’s flustered little sound, the way heat climbs up his cheeks.

In a weak attempt to save face, Jaskier looks down, anywhere but meeting the intensity of Geralt’s gaze.

It has the unfortunate effect of noticing how close they are, how Geralt’s t-shirt rides down just enough to reveal collarbones, how his hands flex against the counter.

“Tell me if I’m reading this wrong, Jaskier,” Geralt mumbles, leaning close enough for his nose to drag against Jaskier’s cheekbone.

Jaskier pulls in a breath, tilting his head in a way he hopes is invitingly.

“You’re not.” Jaskier whispers, and is rewarded with Geralt putting a hand on his hip, letting his nose drag along Jaskier’s neck. “You really, really not.”

“Is it the nickname? You look so startled whenever you hear me say it.” Geralt asks, one finger finding skin under the hem of Jaskier’s t-shirt.

“Just you. Pretty sure you could call me snugglebutt and I’d thank you.” Jaskier confesses, blurts really, when the rest of Geralt’s hand sneaks under his shirt to find his lower back, playing with the soft hairs there.

“Good to know,” Geralt smiles against his skin and Jaskier braves turning his head, their cheeks brushing together.

“Are you going to kiss me anytime soon, or are you gonna let me keep suffering?” Jaskier breathes, his hands finding Geralt’s and tracing them up his arms slowly.

“Hmm,” Geralt says, considering with a cheeky grin, the absolute bastard, so Jaskier takes matters into his own hands. Quite literally.

Geralt’s face is warm, rough stubble and barely visible scars and imperfections brush against his fingers. Geralt must have turned into it, because their lips slide together, coffee and morning breath mingling as Jaskier finds himself now properly pressed against the bench and Geralt’s body.

Then he is being kissed harder, deeper, and Geralt hoists Jaskier up on the counter, using Jaskier’s thighs to pull him closer, closer still, and presses open mouthed kisses against his neck. With a gasp, Jaskier scrambles to find a grip, to get some control of himself, but it is very, very hard to focus.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing to me, baby?” Geralt murmurs against his skin, and Jaskier full body shivers. “I can feel you watching me, you are even in my streams.”

“You knew about that?” Jaskier asks breathlessly, stealing a kiss when Geralt shifts to look at him.

“If you wanted to be discreet, maybe you should have chosen something else than ‘Bardelicious’.” Geralt smiles, and Jaskier pouts and pinches his side in revenge.

“Why didn’t you say anything then?”

“Why didn’t you?” Geralt counters, and well, this won’t go anywhere.

“I like listening to you. I like listening to your voice as I go to sleep,” Jaskier says quietly, and Geralt hides his face in the crook of Jaskier's neck.

“Did you get any sleep at all last night?” Jaskier asks when Geralt stays there, melting into his body.

He doesn’t get anything but a muttering grumble in reply, and Jaskier smiles and strokes his hair.

“I need to find a nickname for you too. I refuse to be the only one being absolutely useless as soon as you open your mouth.” Jaskier murmurs into Geralt’s hair.

“Gmmrmgmg.”

“What’s that?”

“I said, ‘like it when you say my name.” Geralt says, and Jaskier is melting all over again.

“Well then, Geralt,” Jaskier purrs. “Let me finish my coffee, and then we’ll take a nap.”

Reaching for coffee without really letting go turns out to be hard, and when Jaskier with some struggle finally gets a hold of his cup, the coffee is still unreasonably hot.

They nap in Jaskier’s bed, both of them crawling in under the blankets and curling up together. Jaskier’s chin resting on top of Geralt’s head, Geralt’s arm slung over Jaskier’s chest.

When Geralt wakes up and press Jaskier into the mattress, it doesn’t take long for Geralt to discover exactly how to fluster Jaskier enough to splutter broken syllables.

It’s alright.

When Jaskier has recovered from being melted goo, he will return the favor.

[thedemonofcat]

Jaskier is at a Christmas market—having fun browsing by himself—when he feels a tug on his coat.

He looks and sees a little girl clinging to his coat, halfway to sobbing.

Asking her if she’s alright and where she last saw her parents just makes her full-on sob. Jaskier panics and starts singing to her. Miraculously, she calms down.

He then guides her to one of those security tents, so they can make an announcement or something.

While Jaskier fully intended to just drop the girl off with the proper authorities, she’s still clinging to his coat. And she sniffs pitifully when he tries to leave.

Oh well.

He’ll stay until her parents show up.

It wasn’t long before Jaskier spotted a frazzled-looking man with white hair striding into the security tent.

“Ciri,” the man said, relief washing over his features as the young girl finally released Jaskier’s jacket and ran to him. “Don’t ever do that again,” he murmured, pulling her into a tight hug.

“I’m sorry,” Ciri said, her small voice muffled as she buried her face against his chest. “I just wanted to look at the lights.”

The man sighed, his tone soft but firm. “Next time, ask me first, and I’ll take you. All right?”

She nodded, sniffling slightly, and he gently smoothed down her hair before turning his attention to Jaskier, who had been standing quietly to the side. “Thank you for finding her. I’m Geralt. And you are?”

“Jaskier,” he replied, offering a polite smile. “My name is Jaskier.”

Geralt raised a brow. “Your name is Buttercup?”

“Ah, you speak Polish,” Jaskier said, visibly impressed. Few people understood the origin of his name. “Technically, my name is Julian, but I’m a musician. Jaskier has a better ring to it, don’t you think?”

“It suits you,” Geralt replied, his tone almost thoughtful before he added, without missing a beat, “Pretty as a flower.”

The line hung in the air, and Geralt blinked as if realizing how cheesy it sounded, but Jaskier’s amused grin suggested he didn’t mind one bit.

[milsuphaart]

The first date and the last date (as boyfriends)

[cardierreh15]

Knight in Shining Leather

I do not give anyone permission to repost or copy my work!!!

Warning 18+: Violence , Cursing , Attempted SA , Blood , Gore .

Pairing: Geralt Of Rivia(modern) x Nessa (Black!Plus Size Female)

Description: Geralt being a knight in shining armor.

Word Count: 2.2K

One shot

It was a beautiful autumn night. The night’s air smelled of cinnamon and pumpkin. With it being just cool enough for her to wear a cardigan over her shoulders. Pretty soon, she would get too warm to even rock it.

It was roughly 9:45pm and she had come from a night out with the girls. Her best friend insisted that she drive her home since she stayed so close by. But Nessa was too hardheaded to let her do that. Besides, the walk wasn’t even 20 minutes away.

But a lot can happen in 20 minutes can it?

Her thick heeled boots clicked loudly on the asphalt, echoing throughout the street and bouncing off of the other buildings. She lived in a small town, so it was no surprise that almost everyone was in the house by now.

Nessa had her hands tucked in her pockets, at this point walking absentmindedly. She didn’t even realize there were two men walking about a few yards behind her. She didn’t think much of it, perhaps they were trying to make it to their destination too.

But their footsteps grew a little impatient.

This caused her to take further strides; holding her purse tightly in her arm as she tried to sneak her hand into it to retrieve her pepper spray.

‘Get her!’ One of the males exclaimed.

A panicked gasp escaped her lips as she did her best to take off but they were close enough to snatch her up by her cardigan. ‘HELP!’ She exclaimed before a man placed his large hand over her mouth and held a butterfly blade against her face. ‘Shhhh, shhh. Now, just be a good girl.’ He whispered against her ear.

She then bit down into his fingers and stepped on his foot. The criminal yelped out in agonizing pain.

‘Fuck you!’ She exclaimed before she was instantly grabbed by another male.

‘Get the bitch into the alley!’

‘No! No! Stop!’ Nessa begged and pleaded as she tried her best to fight back. But they weren’t having it.

They slammed her against the wall and she whimpered out in pain. ‘Urgh!’ She fell to her hands and knees. ‘Please— take whatever I have… it’s all material— I don’t want it! Please.’ She insisted, sobbing as she held her chest.

The bald headed guy began to dump out all of the contents in her purse and searched through it. ‘Awww, the bitch ain’t got nothin’. Lipstick, tampons, some other make up, — a wallet…’ he then looked at her name and then started going through her wallet where he snatched out $500. ‘I found a jackpot…’ then he walked over to the the ginger haired gentleman who towered above her.

‘How much ya find?’

‘$500. And It’s a Chanel wallet, taking that too.’ The male chuckled.

Nessa was on her knees before them as if she were praying to her God. Her hands shook as if her bones were chilling in the Arctic.

‘Nice,’ the ginger chuckled as the bald guy passed him some cash. ‘Now, the question is… what do we do with you?’

‘Hmmm. She’s pretty cute. She’s thicker than the rest of em. And you know I looove when they fight.’ He said as he shoved the wallet and the cash in his back pocket.

She instantly knew what baldy meant, and it caused her to panic a bit more. Until suddenly, the ginger just happened to step out of the way, and the bright LED street light caused a thick shard of glass to glisten in her eye.

Carefully leaning down as the two men bickered about who were going to have their turn with her first, she then grabbed the glass in her hand and waited.

The ginger sighed and rolled his eyes, ‘whatever. Fuck it. I’ll hold her still.’ He then squat down before her, ‘Alright sweet heart, you’re gonna—‘

Nessa instantly swiped the glass upward, aiming to stab him beneath his chin but instead, slicing his cheek.

‘AUGH!’ He practically jumped back; feeling the stinging pain at his cheek. Ginger grabbed the gasp and looked at the bright red blood in his palm. ‘You fucking bitch!’

His partner instantly brought her up to her feet, disarmed her and slapped her across her face so hard, he split the inside of her cheek.

She fell to the ground, her mind spinning as if she had swallowed a whole bottle of tequila. She could only hear the sound of their voices. They were so loud in her ears.

‘Kill that bitch! Kill her!’

She didn’t even know who was saying, all she knew was that she was pretty sure she was going to die in this filthy ass alley. And it would probably take her loved ones days to find her knowing these fools.

The ginger some how had the strength to pull her up to her feet. ‘You fucking— BITCH!’ And he kneed her in the stomach before she fell back down to the ground again. He kicked her, several times in the ribs.

Nessa whimpered out, choking on the air that was fighting so hard to come into her lungs. She lifted her hand up, in a “I surrender” kind of way, ‘please. Stop.’ She was too weak to scream for hell at this point.

‘Stop? Haha… oh wait til we’re done with you… get her up.’ Ginger said to Baldy.

Suddenly, everything felt like it was moving much slower than she was. Between the two antagonists, was a pair of bright golden eyes that reflected in the shadows. She thought she was hallucinating so she just laid there, accepting her fate that was to come.

When Baldy lifted her up to her feet, her head rest back against the brick wall. ‘Come on… make it quick.’ She breathed out tiredly.

Ginger chuckled and then Baldy chimed in. ‘Suit yourself.’

Suddenly, a bright flash whipped through the air like something out of a supernatural movie.

Nessa felt Baldy’s grip on her grow weaker and she noticed a thin line across his neck. A dribble of blood came leaking from his lips and his nose. She then noticed the sunken glare in his eyes.

His neck became a waterfall of his blood and a millisecond later, his head fell to wet the concrete and his body followed.

Nessa felt her stomach turn at the sight. She stumbled backwards in fear; immediately covering her lips to hold back the throw up that tried to fight its way out.

Ginger let out a scream as he saw his buddy’s head roll at his feet.

She felt too damn sick and scared to move really. Also, she couldn’t get over — how could someone be that talented with a blade that:

A.) No blood had spilled on her.

And

B.) None of them were able to see or hear him coming.

Ginger instantly pulled his gun out and walked over towards Nessa. ‘Whose there!? Come out!’ He snatched her up and pointed the gun at her head. ‘Come out! Or I swear to God, I will blow this bitch’s brains out!’

‘Please—‘ she started as she held her hands up.

‘SHUT UP!’ Ginger yelled as he looked all around. ‘Alright,’ he then clicked off the safety, ‘I’ll give you to the count of 3… come out— with your hands up… and I won’t kill her…’

‘Why would you think they’d come out for me?! I-I don’t even know what’s going on!’ She said out as she wiped her bloodied nose.

‘Shut. The fuck. Up. I swear you’re making this so much easier!’ He said as he continued to look around, ‘ONE! …. TWO!….’ He pressed the barrel against the back of her skull.

On three, a white haired male stepped from out of the shadows; those damn golden eyes making an appearance before he did. He wore black leather, and held a huge sword in his right hand. He had a scowl on his face that could kill instantly.

Ginger’s mouth fell slightly as he watched the tall, unearthly being approach the both of them. He stepped back, ‘Y—you… it can’t be. B-BACK UP!’

He just kept walking towards them. The sound of metal clinked with each step.

Ginger had finally hit the wall and Nessa looked back at the both of them.

‘Y—you’re dead! Y-you’re suppose to be dead!’

‘Says who?’ The white haired male asked, ‘You?’ His head fell to the side. Then he looked behind him, noticing the women who still stood there. He then looked back towards Ginger, ‘Go ahead… shoot her.’

Nessa’s eyebrows tugged into one in confusion. She wanted to impose on this reunion but she was hurting too bad to talk.

Ginger’s bottom lip trembled as much as his wrist did when he held that gun.

‘Go ahead…’

Ginger swallowed his spit, glancing over at the beautiful woman. He just didn’t have the guts.

The white haired male let out a sigh, ‘I knew it,’ and stabbed Ginger in his abdomen with the shiny sword.

Ginger began to choke. Wheezing as if he’d punctured his lung.

Nessa let out a harsh gasp and covered her lips in shock.

‘You’re… a coward.’ He twisted the blade to open the gaping wound more, ‘You pray on the weak… women and children… you and your friend don’t deserve to breathe for another second.’

He then snatched out the sword from Ginger’s abdomen and the male fell forward.

Nessa just stood in her spot, watching the man who just tried to kill her moments before, choke on his own blood and eventually took his last breath as the rest of him seeped into the cracks and crannies of the destroyed asphalt.

She was too frightened to scream, to run but also… her body was riddled with pain. Anything extreme would’ve probably caused her to pass out. So instead she asked, ‘A-are you gonna kill me next?’

The being then pulled out a dark cloth and wiped his shiny sword off in one swipe, ‘If I wanted … you’d be dead already.’

Well that was quite evident. She took in a deep breath as she just watched him sheath his sword and bend down to go in Ginger’s pocket.

She peaked over, ‘… he-he said you were suppose to be dead… are you like someone important?’

He didn’t say anything, instead he retrieved her money from the corpse and then ventured to the next.

‘Could I at least— know your name?’ She asked as she began to pick up her purse and the rest of her belongings. ‘You did save me after all, I would like to know who you are… In case I don’t ever see you again.’

He smirked as he grabbed her wallet out of the headless corpse and looked at her ID. She had a glorious smile. A smile that could turn any rainy day into sunshine.

Vanessa Hodge, December 18th, 1997, Address…

He took a mental note of her address before slowly rising to his feet and walked over to her.

She looked from his hands to his chest, that donned a silver necklace with a wolf engraved in it. She wondered what that meant.

‘Here,’ His voice brought her out of her thinking trance, ‘Your things.’ He looked down at her as she rose to her feet and threw her purse over her shoulder.

‘Thank you.’ She said softly before wincing at the pain in her cheek.

He lifted her chin to examine her.

Nessa hissed at the sudden, searing pain.

‘They most certainly did a number on you…’ he said as he looked at her split eyebrow. ‘Come. Let’s get you fixed up.’

‘Alright… only— if you do me a tiny favor?’

‘Hmm.’ A mere stranger, asking him for favors? He wasn’t the type to be handing those out. Especially without pay.

Yeah, she had no idea who he was.

‘You tell me your name…’

Was that it? She wanted to know his name? She almost got taken advantage of, got her shit pushed in and almost got her brains blown out but — she wanted to know his name?

‘I-I think it’s fair… I’d like to know who my knight in … shiny leather is.’

It grew quiet once more before he rested his hand on the handle of his sword and lifted his head with a gentle smirk.

‘I mean I think it’s also fair because you’re still a complete stranger and—‘

‘For someone who is in a lot of pain, you sure do talk a lot.’ He said as he shifted his weight and folded his massive arms across his chest.

Nessa felt the heat rise to her neck, her cheeks and then her ears. She looked off to the side, trying to avoid eye contact for a moment.

God you’re gonna blow this.

‘My name is Geralt. Now, if that is all you request, we should leave now.’

She let out a gentle puff of air and quickly walked towards him, ‘Lead the way.’ She shrugged.

Geralt swiftly turned around and they headed in the direction Nessa was heading.

‘So, you’re gonna tell me what you do and why you walk around with those things?’ She asked; swiping her dainty manicured finger at his silver handle.

‘No.’ He mused

‘And— Please don’t touch the swords.’ He said, hearing the cling that she left behind with her touch.

‘Oh— sorry.’

[humblebardd]

Jaskier: hey, do you have a bag I could borrow?

Geralt: the only bags I have are the ones under my eyes, and they’re specifically designed to carry the burden of my existence.

Jaskier: literally all you had to do is say no.

[fangirleaconmigo]

Roommates AU Geraskier

Jaskier wonders. What do he and Geralt have? Is it a fling? Just sex? A mistake that somehow keeps happening? He thinks about it so hard he's lucky he doesn't burst a blood vessel. But he can't work up the guts to ask.

One day, they are sitting on the couch watching Wonder Woman. Jaskier is only half watching because he is so worked up with uncertainty.

He says it without thinking. "A truth lasso, huh?"

Geralt has his arm slung casually behind him on the couch, and he hums.

Jaskier glances at him, then quickly looks away. "You could do a lot with a truth lasso."

The hint of a smirk briefly plays on Geralt's lips. "Anything's a truth lasso if you try hard enough."

Jaskier's eyebrows shoot up. He leans away from Geralt on the couch, giving him a questioning look.

Geralt shrugs. It is a challenge.

Jaskier pops up and goes to his bedroom. He finds a belt and comes back. Geralt is still sitting on the couch with his thighs splayed wide. Jaskier stand between them, dangling the belt by the buckle. "How about this?"

In one swift moment, Geralt graps Jaskier by both wrists, wraps the belt around them, and tugs Jaskier down onto his lap.

Jaskier stumbles, but even with his wrists in a hold, manages to fall onto Geralt's lap straddling him.

And ohhhh, it is nice. It is so lovely.

Jaskier's hands are bound and pressed against Geralt's broad chest. His hips are tight against his stomach. He can feel his body grow warm as desire trickles through him.

This is how it happens.

He worries. Geralt distracts him by making him horny and hard as all fuck.

It is absolutely going to work again.

Geralt kisses his jaw tenderly, then his neck, and with Geralt's lips against him like a warm brand, Jaskier melts.

He melts. He always fucking melts.

No. Goddamnit. Not this time.

"Well," he clears his throat and pulls away, trying to sound authoritative and not at all breathy and aroused. "This is nice but what I was hoping was for you to put it on because--"

"I love you," Geralt says.

Jaskier falls silent. It feels like the entire world stops. He knows what Geralt said, but he can't quite believe it. "What?" he squeaks.

"I love you," said Geralt. He slides both hands up his body and stops when he is cradingly Jaskier's face. "I love you and I'm with you. Only you. For as long as you'll have me. And that's the truth."

And then they are kissing.

And now Jaskier knows.

No lassos required.